#his parents found the grave and the statue boy on a dig and brought him home as an artefact to be admired from behind a glass case

[reineydraws]

op. op pls i devoured your fic rec list. do you have. perchance. more to share. pls. (if you want ofc) jason requires All the hugs. esp when he gets to be Safe in bruce or dick's arms again like they're protecting him even though hes all grown up now and doesn't need protecting but that's his Family and they Love Him op im having emotions (tone lighthearted i just think you have good taste in fics and am wondering if you would want to rec some more? no pressure LOL)

anon, this has to be one of the best compliments ive ever received in my life lmao thank u for saying i have good taste in fics 😂

ive got 10 more recs for ya! i tried to centre it on jason with bruce and/or dick but there are a couple that have an even focus on other siblings too. those will still have the good jason stuff in it tho. 😌😌

also this time not all of them are h/c lol soz some of them are just fluff 🙏 but they do all have good family feels!!! and im pretty sure jason gets hugs in most of them too haha.

anyways, onto some (more) good jason todd family feels gen fic! once again: word count rounded to the nearest thousand, and listed in no particular order.

The Cave by lurkinglurkerwholurks | 4k

jason and dick get stranded on an island and dick is injured so jay goes to explore the island on his own and finds a sketchy cave he goes to explore. shit happens. as a younger sibling myself, i found it pretty accurately captures the complexity and the depth of sibling feelings and relationships (esp dick's older brother-ness) in a situation thats been dialed to 11.

through the valley of the shadow by Goldmonger | 10k

jason gets captured and tortured and inadvisably makes his way out of the building even though he's exacerbating his wounds bc he doesnt want to risk waiting for a father bat that will never come. bruce does get there in time and jay recovers at the manor, to his great annoyance and reluctant warmth.

Ornaments by haunt_the_stars | 2k

it's the holidays & bruce is counting kids (checking in on them) when he finds jason crying by the christmas tree bc bruce buys them all a new ornament every year and jason doesnt have any after his death and it's not fair he missed out on so much of his youth. i cried reading this but it was also cute. (tbf, literally any time jason contemplates the teenage years he missed out on due to his death etc., i cry lol.)

and if only i could make a deal with god by foreverstudent | 21k

one of the ones with a more even focus on everyone. id actually say it's about bruce. feels are good tho, and jason does get a hug. the bat boys get sent back in time and find a bruce that just started being batman standing in front of his parents' graves and wondering if he should stop being batman to find happiness in marriage. the boys unanimously decide to convince bruce to give up the bat so he can be happy, even though it majorly risks their own futures (and in dami's case, his actual life).

Tap Out by coyote_nebula | 8k

jay's at a gala and gets poisoned and as he struggles to breathe (and his family panics), he contemplates all the other times he felt like he was gonna die. focuses heavily on the concept of tapping out as a way to practice boundaries, esp in his relationship w bruce.

You, Me, and the Humanity in Between by JUBE514 | 66k

this is kind of fantasy realism? and this is another fic that focuses more evenly on everyone. bruce keeps finding these kids that arent really human, adopting them and giving them a childhood (and family!) anyways. it's sweet and my favourite thing about it is that the boys all pass around bruce's gotham knights sweater for comfort clothing. also there's a part where john constantine is like "h o w do you keep finding them?!?!" it's good lol. ah and i just love when stories explore what it means to be human.

The 70 Days After Groundhog Day by Ptelea | 44k

this is a dick pov fic that goes through the aftermath of a time loop only jason remembers. it's not often you get to read about the after effects instead of the time loop itself, which i thought was cool, and it goes into the way jason and his relationship to the family has changed bc of this thing only he remembers. focuses most heavily on dick & jay.

Commencement by ivy_and_ivory | 3k

jason invites bruce to his uni graduation :') what i like the most is that jason's not just thinking of how he feels now, he's thinking about how he'll feel in the future. he might still feel weird about bruce now but in the future he thinks he'll have wanted b to be there. it makes me so soft to read about this jason that's looking toward the future again, instead of focusing on his death and his past.

The Bedtime Chronicles by SillySunshine | 5k (series)

the rule is, as long as bruce can pick you up, he can still ground you. 😤 the first fic is robin jason and it's all v fluffy and adorable. the second fic is red hood jason so it's angsty and then hilarious (obvs b can still pick him up) and then fluffy. we love sappy father & son fic in this house!

pantry by envysparkler | 4k

one by one, jason's siblings congregate in his apartment to get away from bruce/seek refuge after a hard day/generally annoy him. jay-centric, tho all the siblings + bruce star pretty equally. fluff & humour! spoiler alert: eventually he escapes to the manor lmao.

[tiesthatbind-tf]

A lad finally gets some of that coveted spotlight!

Benjamin Bane (just Ben or Benji, thanks) may be the youngest of the active Autobot team as their sprightly scout who’s got a chip on his shoulder he wants to hurl into the next Functionist or Decepticon picking on him for his size, and who’s been through quite a bit despite his age, if the burn on his left arm, the slide bite on his right hand  and the multitude of old cigarette burns he’s reluctant to explain are anything to go by.

When not on the field, he’s an avid dancer (with a love for ballet, something he could only pursue in secret until recently, and something which forms the core of his offensive style) and a good enough artist that he, alongside Mirage, are the two assigned to decorate armor for the team.

His smiley, chirpy facade hides quite a couple of issues, including PSTD and self-esteem issues, anxiety attacks, and an urge to please those he trusts even if it comes at his detriment.

More to his story below. (TW for child abuse)

Benjamin Bane (Bumblebee) would be hard-pressed to come up with a single good memory concerning his biological family during his childhood, and not for the lack of trying.

Born to an upper middle-class family in New York comprising a bullish, hot-tempered police sergeant father and a housewife mother, he grew up in the shadow of the son his father, who came from a family of law enforcers, wanted him to be in order to carry on the family legacy.

That he was a gentle, bubbly, sensitive child who loved following his mother around in the kitchen and spending his free time drawing did not bode well for the image his father wished to portray, and it didn’t take long for the discipline intended to mold him into a ‘man’ to become horrifically physical when he was barely five.

His mother, already used to his old man’s temper and quick hand, would often step in to take the punishment meant for him whenever he did something undesirable, though she couldn’t save Ben from the man’s wrath completely, and by the time he was nine, he was never seen without a hoodie in school and had perfected every excuse he’d been told to repeat when asked why he could not take it off or why he would come in on some days with a split lip.

He was small for his size, quiet, and took great pains not to be noticed, which had the opposite effect of making him the target of every other larger child looking to blow off steam, and he became good at running.

Really good.

There was no running from home however, home where the walls were insulated so neighbours wouldn’t hear what was happening within, and while some days would be better than others, there wasn’t a moment that he didn’t break into a cold sweat whenever he heard his father’s footsteps approaching his room.

With his mother unable to bear more children due to an illness, his father furiously continued with the campaign (sometimes the carrot was used  though mostly it was the stick) to mold him into the son the man wanted, so he could make the cut during the streaming process prior to high school where students would be sorted into their future occupational classes.

What support he might have had from his mother in his young years also evaporated, as she pushed him to be the son his father needed him to be to keep the peace, putting the weight of the household’s sanctity on his slight  shoulders.

He was forced into marksmanship lessons (where his first attempt to fire a gun went awry and left him with a deep slide bite wound), multiple self-defence classes to toughen him up (helpful for bullies whenever they didn’t come in packs), and a series of workouts to encourage a growth spurt so he could catch up to other potential cadet  candidates.

The little sliver of hope that he would be good enough to make the junior police  cadets went up in smoke when he was assigned to the manual class instead, owing to his size and his visceral aversion to handling firearms.

Branded as worthless and only good for paying off the ‘debt’ accumulated from the classes his father had earlier forced him into, Ben entered high school with his self-esteem scrapping at topsoil and digging deeper, and had it not been for a chance encounter with another boy who was evading a group of military-classed students intending to instil a lesson about talking back to those higher in the hierarchy, it might have dug itself into a grave.

The boy, who introduced himself as Guillermo ‘Memo’ Gutierrez after Ben dutifully sent the bullies scattering, was also assigned to the manual class and both of them  decided to stick together for safety in numbers.

Ben had ruefully accepted his lot in life after years of being broken and beaten down. Memo, however, had a loving and supportive family; this kept the spark of his defiance to the system alive and he kindled it in Ben’s by giving his friend a safe space to escape to whenever the situation at Ben’s home became too intense.

Among Memo and Memo’s family was the first time where Ben opened up about his interests, could speak freely and found acceptance for what he liked and who he was.

The desire to reclaim the things he loved pushed him to seek out part-time work, which he eventually found after befriending a girl, Charlie Watson, who had helped put an end to the harassment he and Memo endured at school by playing the hierarchy to their favour and wielding her Navy ‘prime-pick’ status.

That she actually wanted nothing to do with the class she was pushed into (Navy) and wished to pursue a career in automotives despite parental objections was something that she and Ben bonded over, and she brought him to the scrapyard her uncle ran where he found work sorting out car parts and helping perform repairs.

He began to pursue art and dance in secret with part of his pay (keeping his sketchbooks and supplies at Memo’s place and taking dance lessons under the guise of after-class study sessions), while saving up the rest and planning for the day he would eventually break free of his father, ‘debt’ or no ‘debt’.

During this time, he subtly packed away important items and was careful not to anger his old man more than his mere presence already did on a good day——something which would become increasingly hard when the Clampdown began.

He would hear his father rant over the dinner table about how ungrateful the protesters who were made up mostly of the Manual Class were, how they weren’t worth the safety net they were demanding for the job they were doing, how they needed to know their place.

He would hear, as time went by, about how his father would beat the ones who were arrested, and more than once, how he would be killed if he, as the man’s son, ever did something as stupid and insolent as that.

He bit his tongue through all this and reluctantly refused Memo’s offer to join a peaceful protest for better wages and workplace compensation.

The protest turned violent after police assaulted those taking part however, and as he watched the news hoping to see if Memo was alright, he saw his friend among those who were tossed into the dreaded black vans to be brought over to stations for interrogation.

His father, fielding a call from a colleague about the batch of protesters being brought in, told them to separate the adults from the teenagers, who would be easier to break, and it was at this point Ben’s spark turned into a bonfire.

As his father got dressed for work, he crept into the man’s study and managed to figure out the combination to the safe where the man’s gun was kept, retrieving it and aiming it at the police sergeant who came in and demanded for him to stand down.

Ben, in turn, demanded for his father to call the station and have Memo released, and when his father laughed at his audacity, mocked the way his hands shook while he was holding the gun and threatened to beat him senseless once this was all over, he shot the man close enough to the head to clip an ear to prove a point, before repeating his demand again.

This time, his father complied and called the station to order for Memo’s release; Ben’s relief however was all the momentary lapse of guard that his father needed to rush in and attempt to wrest the gun back, and in the struggle, he accidentally shot his father in the knee.

Under the hail of threats on how he was going to die once his father got hands on him, Ben flung the gun where the man could not reach, grabbed one of the bags he had secretly packed and ran out of the house to the screams of his mother.

He called Charlie and explained the situation to her, as both of them made their way to the station where his father worked to pick up Memo, who was confused about the state of affairs.

At 18 years, Ben was now a fugitive who could no longer go home; Memo brought him to the manual class district where Ben could hide among allies, and it was here that he spent a few months in hiding, disguised as a manual worker.

However, still fully terrified at the thought of his father eventually hunting him down within the confines of the city, he made plans to leave and head to the West Coast, far away from any chance that he would meet his old man by accident on the streets.

To his surprise,  Charlie and Memo elected to join him in the move, and the three of them left together on a  Greyhound bus; Him to escape his father, Charlie to escape her future with a military complex which her father died for and Memo to protect his family after he was named a person of interest in the protest.

However, they were forced to stop in Texas when police were inspecting passing buses for runaway Cold Constructs. Here, they met Ian Hart (Ironhide), a rancher secretly helping Cold  Constructs escape ownership by crossing over into Mexico to start new lives.

Ian, seeing how they ran from the bus, assumed they were young Cold Constructs and immediately took them in and offered them shelter; when they explained their situation, he kept his offer, letting them stay until they had their plans sorted out and paying them for work done on his ranch in the meantime.

All three of them grew fond of him and spent a month working on his ranch, helping out equally between his longhorn cattle and the Cold Constructs who would come in scared, starving, and seeking refuge from bounty hunters looking to bring them back to the establishments they were assigned to.

Someone however, had gotten wind of Ian’s clandestine operation, and the man was arrested during a midnight raid, though not before he flung Ben, Charlie and Memo into a secret basement with three Cold Constructs who he told them to help cross the border the next day.

They did as they were told, but decided to return to the ranch to figure out how to help Ian, and when they came back there, it was to come face to face with two strangers who were also seeking Ian after seeing him on the news.

These strangers introduced themselves as Omar Parvez (Optimus Prime), Jace Zayden (Jazz) and Preston Wan (Prowl), members of a rebellion that had sprung up in the UK, and upon hearing that they had been with Ian for the past month, requested for their help in tracking the man down to save him from a terrible fate at the hands of government interrogators.

Realising that they were now caught up in something bigger than they ever imagined, Ben nonetheless accepted the request, unwilling to stand back and do nothing while a good man suffered.

Youth, size and a lifetime of abuse would not be an obstacle to him helping someone else, especially with his best friends  by his side.

[alllwritenow]

blame it on the stardust

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Elena stared at herself in the mirror, the shadows under her eyes long since covered by makeup and the exhaustion in her bones hidden by the curve of her smile. She knew better than most what time healed and what it didn’t. Her grief was far from spent, but life didn’t stop, not for anyone.

Turning away from the mirror, she tucked the journal in her bag and headed down the stairs for the requisite stilted morning banter with Jenna and Jeremy. Jenna was frantic and Jeremy was sullen and she refused to let her heavy heart weigh them down. She acted as explicitly normal as possible—fake it till you make it—and filled a travel mug of coffee for herself and Jeremy without comment, earning a reluctant smile.

“Ride?” she asked him after Jenna had left, and didn’t argue when he shook his head, ignoring the itch in her hands that wanted to drag him close and hold on until he broke down and cried like he hadn’t since they left the hospital. Instead she flicked his ear, hid a grin at his scowl, and went to wait on the porch for Bonnie.

Her friend’s smile was still careful around the edges, hidden worry in her eyes that Elena forced herself not to grimace at. Bonnie loved her, of course she was worried. Elena loved her back and she wouldn’t begrudge that concern. She returned Bonnie’s hug and held herself to the present by sheer force of will as Bonnie told her all about her Grams and their ancestors and her apparent psychic powers.

Elena knew what Bonnie was, knew the magic and potential, far greater than her own, that lurked inside her friend. She was prepared for this conversation, ready to be supportive and excited by turns. She was not prepared for the crow that slammed into the windshield, the spike of fear and unease that lingered.

She was not prepared for the handsome, chiseled face of Stefan Salvatore staring at her from across the hallway.

Her throat closed and her heartbeat tripled in pace and she knew he heard it, knew his senses, so much more than advanced than hers, could detect the effects of shock and panic and secret thrill of delight on her system. Her lips were numb as she agreed with Bonnie’s assessment of his hotness and listened to her friend’s theories on who he was.

What was he doing here? Who did he think she was?

Katerina had never spilled her secrets to him, had told him only what would make him love her, true or not. He knew nothing of doppelgangers and curses, of endless flight from brutal monsters until you became one yourself. Or he hadn’t, but then, her memories of him were incomplete, second-hand, filtered through Katerina, and over a century old.

The fear and confusion and sense of strained reality lingered throughout the day, enforced by the weight of his focused attention and broken only by her worries about Jeremy, Bonnie’s predictions, and Caroline’s forced cheerfulness. She didn’t follow through with her weekly visit to her parents’ graves after school and instead dug out the journals and sketches hidden beneath the floorboards under her bed, pouring over fragments of dreams and flashes of memories not hers as she scrambled for a sense of control in a world gone spinning off course.

She hadn’t thought she’d be lucky enough to go unnoticed forever. To have a life free of the supernatural other than her own magic and Bonnie’s inevitable awakening to the powerful witch she was meant to be. Not when she’d been unlucky enough to be born in the same town Katerina had fled to, the land where Tatia had once lived. But she wasn’t ready, and she hadn’t expected this. One of the brothers Katerina had seduced and fallen for and left behind. And if one was here, where was the other? Did he still live as well?

They seemed decent enough, in the bits and pieces of memories she had to go on, one more kind and one more sharp but both very human and very in love with Katerina. What would that betrayal, the loss of their humanity, and a century and a half of immortality have done to their natures? She couldn’t trust that her memories or her face would keep her safe, much less her loved ones.

Elena wasn’t just a doppelganger. She was a Gilbert and she knew what her ancestors had done to protect themselves from vampires, knew the secrets that lived in her purely human family tree, had suspicions about her Uncle’s oddly nomadic life.

Elena had been ingesting vervain since she was old enough to be trusted alone in the backyard, enabling her to cultivate a hidden little garden. She regularly dosed her brother and her friends and had become the unofficial punch spiker for school dances specifically so she could slip some in with the booze. Cheerleading and daily runs in the woods kept her fit and stronger than she looked. She knew Mystic Falls, knew the land it had been long before the town itself, could see the bones of what it had been during the Civil War beneath the modern structures. Her magic was limited in power, the curse of her bloodline, but she had centuries of knowledge to draw on in how best to use it. And she knew vampires, knew them as well as any human ever could.

She didn’t want to hurt anyone. Never wanted to kill anyone, even if it wasn’t their first death. But she and Katerina shared more than just a face, and if it meant protecting her family or her friends, she would do what she had to do.

Including going to a party by the falls when it was the last thing on her mind. She used to be good at parties. Used to be the party, her and Caroline and Bonnie. School wasn’t like Mean Girls, even in a status-obsessed small town like theirs. Outside of Founder events, no one cared about your last name. But they were cheerleaders and for a certain limited definition that mostly existed in Caroline’s head in a teen movie montage sort of way, they could have been said to rule the school.

And then her parents died and the legacy in her blood smacked her in the face with an only kind of dead boy and now she was drinking shitty beer laced with vervain and faking an engaged conversation and a smile so wide her cheeks hurt directed at whoever was next to her whenever Stefan looked her way. He had clearly not gotten the memo about her strong desire to avoid any significant interaction with him and his gaze prickled against her skin.

Later she would curse herself for her inattention, for her selfishness. If she’d been less concerned with avoiding an awkward and potentially dangerous conversation with Katerina’s ex, if she’d been more concerned with the danger to everyone else, oblivious innocents with no idea of the danger lurking in their midst, maybe Vicky wouldn’t have been bitten.

When she heard the scream, followed by the unmistakable sound of Jeremy’s voice shouting, her heart stopped in her chest, terrified that she was going to lose him. But he was fine, holding up a rapidly-sobering Vicky. Matt’s sister was bleeding from a wound in her throat, eyes glassy and hands fluttering wildly as she mumbled, barely audible over the commotion of the party. “What the hell?! What the hell.”

“What happened?” Matt demanded before Elena could, eyes darting between his sister and Jeremy as he pulled Vicky away from the other boy.

“I don’t know, man, I just found her like this. I know Tyler was giving her grief earlier, but I don’t think he’d do this.”

Elena stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Jeremy’s as Matt turned to his sister just as she checked back into reality. “Mattie? This guy, he, he bit me, Mattie! I think he was on drugs or something? He bit me and then he got really angry and said something about me being dosed and then he ran off.”

Jeremy flinched against Elena and she grimly hoped that this horrible night would get him to stop stealing her pain medication. “You should get her to the hospital, Matt. Human mouths have a lot of disgusting germs in them,” she told him, completely serious and also hoping that Vicky’s accusation of drugs and her own words were enough to keep anyone from digging deeper.

Matt nodded, still scowling at Jeremy, and Tyler who had joined the circle of drunken students watching the drama unfold, and started pulling Vicky toward the parking lot. Elena caught Stefan watching her again and narrowed her eyes. “Go home, Jeremy, I’ll meet you there. Caroline’s mom will probably want to talk to you, see if you saw anything that might help them ID the guy, and you need to sober up first.”

He shrugged her off, but didn’t argue, and she took it as a win as she stalked toward Katerina’s ex, giving in to the inevitable.

“I know you didn’t do this,” she told him, before he could speak, and ignored the way his eyes widened, leaning closer to ensure only he could hear the deadly intent of her next words. “But if you brought someone with you who did, Damon or anyone else, you need to get them out of my town. Mystic Falls is not welcoming to any vampires who feed without consent.”

She didn’t wait for his answer, if he had one, just turned and left, hoping to find Bonnie or Caroline to catch a ride from.

The next morning the news showed a very generic sketch, the reporter asking people to be on the lookout for a non-local man on drugs who attacked people in the woods. Elena grimaced and didn’t protest when Jenna turned it off, muttering something about an asshole ex who had a lot of nerve to warn people about other men instead of himself.

School was a mess. Jeremy didn’t seem to be high, for once, but he was avoiding her and so was Caroline, for reasons Elena didn’t understand. Stefan kept trying to get her alone, clearly wanting to know what she knew. She finally escaped with the end of day bell and took a moment to center herself in the bathroom, reaching out with her faint thread of magic.

It led her to the Grill, Caroline crying at a table as Bonnie awkwardly tried to comfort her. “How come he didn’t go for me? Why do the guys I want never want me?”

“Oh Caroline, boys are dumb,” Elena said, dropping next to Caroline in the booth. “So very dumb.”

Caroline whirled on her. “It’s easy for you to say that! You always say the right thing, I always say the wrong thing. I work so hard and got to know him and flirted and he still picked you.”

“Stefan?” Elena asked, shocked and mad at herself for missing this. She’d missed too much lately and it needed to stop now. “Caroline, I’m not interested in him. He just won’t leave me alone and I don’t know why.” She did know why, knew how much he’d loved the last woman to bear her face, but she could hardly explain that. And the rest of her statement stood.

Caroline, brilliant friend that she was, pivoted on a dime from heartbroken envy to protective rage. “Who does he think he is? God’s gift to high school? If he doesn’t leave you alone, we will ruin him,” she said furiously, already pulling out her phone to start the various text chains that would accomplish just that.

Elena laughed, pulling her in for a hug before she could hit send and roping Bonnie in too. “I love you. Can we save ruining for another day and have a sleepover tonight? I’m thinking rum floats and movies about talking pets.”

Bonnie snorted and Caroline giggled a little wetly into Elena’s shoulder before nodding, priorities realigning again. “Definitely. I just got some new gold face masks. We’ll be the fanciest drunk girls in Mystic Falls.”

Across the room, unnoticed by them all, Damon Salvatore reevaluated the usefulness of the blonde as a target and moved on to other strategies. Instead of the first of many nights of horrific trauma that would have lingered in the back of her mind for the rest of her life, Caroline went home with her two best friends and invented a drinking game based on how many animal-related puns were used in a given scene.

Elena fell asleep in a tangled pile with both her best friends, happiness sinking into her bones, warding off the grief and the fear that had been swallowing her. This was how it should be. This was how it would be, and no vampire was going to ruin it.

-

Chapter Three

[maraudersmemoria-rp-blog]

Remus Lupin Application

OUT OF CHARACTER:

Name/Alias: Admin Sammy

Preferred pronouns: She/Her

Age: 21

Timezone: CST 

Activity: 8/10 - As a full-time student and a part-time worker I am going to be around but cannot give myself a 10

Do you have RP experience? I have 10 years of roleplay experience but this is the first group I’m admin for.

Triggers: Blood & Needles

IN CHARACTER

Full Name: Remus John Lupin

Face Claim: Nat Wolff (lol Wolff)

Preferred Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Pansexual

Age/DOB: 17/ 10 March, 1960

House: Gryffindor

Affiliation: Order of the Phoenix -- Remus Lupin was a man of brilliance whose life seemed to revolve around danger. He had never intended to go looking for trouble until it found him and grasped onto his heart with no intention upon releasing him. On the contrary, Remus Lupin’s life would only grow more and more troublesome as years went by. When a war broke out and all of his friends insisted that they were going to join the Order it was only right that he tag along with them. It was both the right thing to do and only fitting that such a trouble-ridden boy dig his grave ever deeper.

Species: Wizard/Werewolf

Blood Status: Half-Blood

Patronus: A great big wolf -- Remus hates it because this means the creature is not only an infliction of the flesh but also of the soul.

Boggart: As a small child it was wolves, then the full moon, it’s currently seeing his friends’ corpses with their blood on his hands, and will eventually change back to the full moon given that his friends will either be dead or in prison for killing them but hey, at least Remus didn’t kill them.

Quote: “I can’t go back to yesterday, I was a different person then.” --Lewis Carroll

Aesthetic: 

Hot Cocoa with Whipped Cream

Star Charts

Over-sized Sweaters

Cottage in the Woods

Worn-Out Books

Laugh Lines

Frosted Tree Branches

Pet(s): Barn Owl named Noctua

Occupation: Bookstore Keeper in Muggle London

Ships/Anti-Ships: 

+Wolfstar

+Chemistry

-Remus/Snape

-Remus/Forced

3 Positive Traits/3 Negative Traits: 

+Inquisitive

If you were to approach Hope Lupin and ask her about a characteristic of her son’s the first one she would list would be inquisitive. From the moment he opened his eyes for the first time, Remus was always studying the world around him and attempting to figure out how exactly things worked.

+Quiet

Remus quickly learned how to listen once he had been bitten. He was shuffled from treatment to treatment, cottage to cottage, told not to speak to the neighborhood children. Any time he broke that rule they were forced to leave again. He had started to learn how to speak up once he got to Hogwarts. However, old habits die hard.

+Collaborative

Remus Lupin does not know how to take care of himself when he does not have others checking upon him. That is not to say that he cannot survive but his standard of living goes down. However, when others are involved anything he puts his mind to improves immensely. Look at all that the Marauders had accomplished throughout the years, the achievement he is most proud of being the Marauders Map due to the skill it required to create.

-Impatient

Waiting is painful for Remus. When he has a goal in mind he wishes to rush in and get it done. People expect him to be the level-headed planner but the truth remains that he is as impulsive as his friends despite Dumbledore’s attempts to make him more responsible by naming him prefect. He supposes that is why James was made Head Boy.

-Temperamental

To pair up with the fact he is not the level-headed boy everyone expects him to be, Remus is rather temperamental. He tends to fly off the handle at even the most minor inconvenience, though that is usually of the self-deprecating variety.

-Dishonest

Remus’ life has been riddled with so many secrets that he has become somewhat of a pathological liar. The added negative for this trait? He’s a terrible liar. 

Example: In Prisoner of Azkaban when asked if he knew Sirius Black he threw his suitcase across the room and shouted “SIRIUS BLACK? NEVER HEARD OF HIM!” Despite all of the hullabaloo surrounding Black’s escape from prison.

4 Headcanons: 

Remus Lupin is not a morning person. He is used to late nights whether that was spent with his nose stuck in a book, out pranking in the corridors, or thrashing around the Shrieking Shack as a bloodthirsty beast. He does not seem to have a healthy sleep schedule so waking up before eleven in the morning is a struggle for our friend Remus. If you see him before he’s had his coffee it’s even worse.

Remus is considering actually getting a pet rabbit who he wishes to name Fluffenstein so that the rumors won’t be entirely incorrect. In the future he would joke with Harry about his classmates being under the impression of him having a badly-behaved rabbit as his “furry little problem” but every time he enters a pet shop he has to look at the bunnies and contemplate the decision for a good while. So far he has had enough self control to not pull off the act but we all know how impulsive he is.

His parents had been rather well-off until after he was bitten. After the attack they funneled most of their funds into experimental treatments for their son to no success. This led to a strained relationship between him and his father Lyall. Hope loves him unconditionally but Lyall resents his son, fueled by his own guilt for causing Greyback to target Remus in the first place.

Remus is rubbish at potions and baking but cooking is where he excels. He loves to experiment with recipes and flavors, which is especially convenient when on a budget and unable to afford a lot of foods.

Biography: 

Remus John Lupin was born to Hope and Lyall Lupin on March 10th, 1960 as a healthy baby boy. He was the pride and joy of his family, the prodigy. That all changed once Lyall shot off his mouth about werewolves in front of Fenrir Greyback, the most sadistic of the species that the Wizarding World knew about. At age five, Remus was tucked into bed, read a bedtime story, and left to dream about the stars. What they had not known was that Greyback had hidden himself inside the child’s closet to attack once the full moon had risen.

After that he was dragged from experimental treatment to experimental treatment, being let down time and time again and having to move from one village to the next with no roots to be planted. He learned to keep himself distant from those around him, learned to observe more than he participated. None of the Lupins would have expected that he would ever be allowed to leave home for even a night. When Dumbledore arrived at their doorstep on Remus’ eleventh birthday, everything changed.

He was brought to Hogwarts with tremendous caution and instilled with a level of fear of his classmates that Lyall considered healthy. Hope told him the opposite: that he was supposed to make friends and live his life as much as he could. While Remus had intended upon following his father’s instructions it appeared fate admired Hope a little more.

Throughout his time at Hogwarts, Remus grew out of his shell more and more until reality set in as to what life would be like once he left the castle’s walls. He had to face the fact that, as a werewolf, he would have little-to-no future in the Wizarding World’s society. When it came time for his O.W.L.s and his N.E.W.T.s he admitted to Professor McGonagall that he would take everything available in the hopes of perhaps landing some form of job upon graduation.

Now that his time at school has come to an end, Remus has been thrust into an unforgiving world ravaged by war. How will he survive in this world that has already taken so much from him?

Para Sample: 

(600 Word Minimum) -- Will be redacted upon acceptance

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

The toddler looking to be about 4 years old in a blue t-shirt and no pants is Issaiak Jueronup Kattluauti.

He was told by Douglas Shaw, my classmate from 4th grade, 6th grade, same school for the years between including 7th and 8th. To suck his dice and Issaiak said no. So he said "let me suck yours" and he said no.

And so Doug otherwise known as Alex bashed him over the head with a hammer, a ball pin hammer. There should be skull indentions.

In 1992 I inspected his skull with him. I had lived in Texas. He had lived in Minnesota. I remember he said "is it always this cold?"

And i asked him "what do you mean? I thought you were from far away (up north)?"

And he said "what i mean is, i could get used to this"

He died in Texas, his body carried by gocart through the tubes until he got to a little known place in New Mexico that was small and dark, not alot of human traffic or from cars either. And he built his own tunnel and buried the bodies between the concrete building foundation and the concrete gas chamber foundation.

He used the gas chamber frequently for insurance fraud, him and his father. So between that smell and the natural bowling alley smell of grease and smoke from cigarette smoking patrons, the bodies wouldn't smell so much to be noticed. Especially with Lyme.

The list of the 36 isn't the men who were in the gas chamber with Bobby. Those were his friends. His friends that for one day came to back to life to be with him. To help him do what he thought was the bravest thing anyone could do. Die.

36 lives that broke my heart and his. And Blue/Byron who was spelling it as Brian, took in under his wing to help when they needed it most.

And they all have met my twin sister whom died in June of 2019.

And they all knew and watched over Bobby. As best they could.

Bobby didn't know. He says "I thought they were real"

They are. Ghosts have cell phones, too. And they work just like ours.

All those 36 are buried in that clay sand between the bowling alley and the gas chamber. And Bobby provided a list of all those children.

They were brutally sexualized and beaten. I talked about one time of my young friend whom kept me company after Denise had killed my grandfather, he kept me from drinking bleach in attempts to kill myself, which for some reason never worked.

Alex had told me want he had done to this little boy and threatened to do it to me. And I was going crazy wondering if he had hurt a child. I was listening to megadeth and pacing my carpet. Very energized and ready to fight and I kept wondering "but was it even true?"

And I heard a little voice strained. Sounded like he'd been choked to death and he said "hi, well ill tell you?"

And I asked if he could because his voice sounded to strained and I asked if he was sick.

And he showed me the gocart strewn over Devins knees was his body (Devin was murdered shortly after high school graduation in a jail cell because he had been pulled over and injested all of his drugs immediately and it was far too much. We were in the same grade. 6th) and Dusty was standing along with Alex in the back.

And he said "not yet but I'm about to be, I don't know what they will do with my body, please help"

And so I put him back in his body and he grabbed the steering wheel and wrecked the gocart. He told me "that didn't help, they just start beating me"

So I yelled "help! I need help! I'm a little girl!" Into the tunnel and it echoed. Devin and Alex went off on the slide to find me. They drove the gocart up instead of using the down slide. Which was available a mile south.

So Dusty laid him in the back and drove to Belen and began to dig the hole for his body.

I brought him to life several times but Dusty kept grabbing him and holding him still while he dug "I'll just bury you alive, I'm not like those other too. You're too small for me to beat you"

He cried and said he wanted his mommy and I told him he was in luck. His mom would die too if he kept hanging around me. And a year or two later, she was brutally sodomized, raped and killed.

She is on the southern grave. In a pink tutu. Age two. His soulmate who was to be the mommy of his kids. Her name is Jaunargia Laquitazio Apujatu.

His parents and hers are still living. They need to contact Los Lunas Police Department and ask to speak with the police chief. So they may gather the remains. They would like to be buried together and I will apply financial assistance of the Community Welfare Department.

They would like to be buried in South Africa. They would like to go home where they're no longer slaves or mistreated due to the color of their skin.

It was 6 weeks before I even asked why they had done what they done to him. I already accepted people did bad things. I was about comforting him and talking to him and helping him not feel lost or abandoned or hurt. And sad.

He said "well because I'm black, duh"

I was shocked. I said "are you sure? How do you even know that your black?"

"Because I go to school (day care) and the teacher always goes "you're one of them black kids, be good or else""

I asked "well don't they have any other black kids in Minnesota?"

And he said no. It was like my school. Just two or three in each room.

He went to school with me and categorized me "different than other kids because other kids were happy and genuinely loved their parents"

He did alot of research.

He says he was "like a little lost sheep - black of course"

And he said I was most like the kids that abandoned him in the dirt, but nice of course and wanted to know why they were afraid of me and why I would make them stop if I knew what hid on behind closed doors.

That is when he met Byron. Because I only cried. And Byron told him the truth, that I was an orphan and my entire family either stolen or stolen and murdered and how Denise is bad. And how I had legal parents only.

He said that the other adopted kids he had found at least tried to like their parents that had adopted them

I said i did!

He said "but not really. Only lightly"

He said thathe found out that i saved all my love for my real parents and that was why I was different. That i didn't want anyone "fake" in my life. And he said it was a struggle to find that out.

He said he wondered for 8 months if he had been taken from a bad place to Hell where I was. Because he knew it certainly wasn't Heaven.

I told him "well its Earth! You certainly didn't go anywhere but down the street!" And I apologized for it being so bad but i did tell him I wanted to be his friend.

"Well I'm stuck here so well all I know to do is be okay, like you. Nothing more. Nothing less. Because i certainly am not happy without my true love"

I told him to see her, and he said he did but left her to sleep. And she went to sleep earlier than I. And he went back to her in the morning to wake her up so she could be happy.

But he said the happiest that he could feel wasn't happy at all. It was just surviving.

I told him he was one smart kid.

That made him feel good. Happy. It was and still is the truth.

So those 36 bodies were murdered brutally in filth by 6th and 7th grade boys. One per week. 76% are African American.

So it wasn't a mass suicide. It was simply the souls of those bodies coming back to life one more time to help a fellow injured soul find happiness in his death. It was a gift from the Gods and Heavens above.

Currently they are with their murderers and accomplises in the tunnels below the airport. And they are physically able as any grown adult in physical form and more capable than me being as damaged as my body is.

As they do not and cannot rest due to what those "children" did to them. They have peace.

RIP? I used to tell him... RIP little dude. And he would call me an old bitch. I would tell him "well its naptime!"

He forbade me to ever say it. He said "i will not rest until that scumbag is beneath the earth meeting his maker in the worst Hell i can imagine and all his friends, too, to boot!"

There is no rest for many. There are hundreds of spirits there. What we would call "poltergeist" as they have the ability to do things that no one else can -- be a ghost only and move things and be of physical form while still not having a body or someone being able to touch or see them.

Issaiak told me once "i ain't no Casper!"

And i laughed because I didn't want to call him dumb or throw it in his face that He was dead.

And then he told me everyday for 6 weeks. "I ain't no Casper but I guess ill play with you" we would read books or i would draw him pictures or he would ask me to mail a letter or card to his lovely.

And i did.

And it wasn't until he explained to me that people where he's been from had called white people Casper because of the KKK's outfits. I didn't realize he said it to category black between white.

And he told me that Minnesota was still segregated then and now in 2020 he tells me it still is. And it starts in the schools.

Defund the schools while y'all are defunding the police. The schools are the worst place for any child of color or not, but even worse for children of the darker skin.

I write this so you know that Bobby was royal. And so y'all know that you're waiting for a loved one from the dead, its gonna happen. First they must save us. They must save us.

Because they know we can't save them and we can't even save ourselves.

So id like my friends that i made after they were buried/brutally slain to be buried where they would like with a lovely large gothic tombstone taller than a man. Of marble and steel. With their names and BD and DOD. And you may add "little stars of Bethlehem" and please add "thank you" before the star part.

Then if Sugar Lane would be okay of it, the shirts the children of the man who owned it before the brother did, if there were a statue to be made of an eagle in a fire... Like on their shirts and a list of those that have lain there beginning in 1992. I think that would be really nice. I hear the sister/daughter and her husband are very wonderful people and their shirts were just about perfect to make a memorial with.

I am sorry their building burned. But i want them to know that Bobby chose it not because he knew they were buried there but because he knew of the abductions of children and the human trafficking that occurred there at Sugar Lane Bowl.

And he wants it to stop. The pain for children. Kidnappings and brutal assaults and he wants me to stop crying. And he knew the building was damaged beyond repair. But its because it was the HQ for child abductions in the 1960s through 1970s and beginning in 1980s for sexual assaults and kidnapping for sexual predators whom bought the children then in the 1990s, a site to pick up random individuals by human traffickers for the sex rings where people were forced to have sex with each other and paying customers.

She knows she's nothing like her brother nor her father and that is because she was stolen from her childhood home as well.

I hope she gets all the help She and her family needs. And I hope that they're doing just fine and well. And we can use the Community Welfare Department funds to pay her insurance deductible if Bobby didn't make financial assistance arrangements and if they allow a memorial statue then the funds will pay for that as well.

A nice large Garden like walls and roof made to do karate outdoors with solar panels to create heat and cool air can also be arranged. Nature doesn't grow well out here so something natural and hopefully in the future something will grow joyously in the soil to make it like a true Garden.

I would think any town of Bethlehem would need a Garden of Eden. Wood flooring and wooden walls shaped like tree trunks and branches which come over and hug each other. Like Tondre Road. But wooden. Maybe some concrete. Then vines grow to fill in the spaces. Natural light filtering between the faux branches and also spotlights for nightime.

A small snacking area of tree stumps and a little fridge that had fairies around it like magic.

A rounded glass for the north and south if enclosing is necessary. Glass that can slide to the east and west.

And a large playground with trees overhead for shade and premium lighting like the Becker street has. Beautiful street lamps to enlighten the park.

And a state of the art security system so no one ever gets hurt at that location again.

Bobby knew I would give back his money, only using what I needed. I know Bobby needs to do this. Not for punishment. Because his heart is so protective and loving and forgiving.

And if they could forgive him, he would like to pay.

He left me 90% of every thing he owns. All his cash. His houses. Cars. Trucks. In 2008 I promised if "life were reoccurring" if reincarnation existed and he somehow found me and had all the proof i needed, i would give him back 75% of what he left me.

He asked me "what proof"

I told him "my heart will know"

"So you don't know you're just telling me that you're willing to? Don't worry about it. I can just make more. Or go on welfare. That would be fun. Here tie my shoe"

I pulled his laces on his boots the way id seen him do for many days and tied it up tight. He asked me why I had. Why i had gotten on the floor and tied his boot.

I said "because i could"

He said he had only Asked because his back was hurting and i had teased him the day before about it being such a struggle he had to rest. A couple of days later he did buy sandals as i had recommended when I teased him which he wore with socks.

Big nerd.

Anyway my accountant will get with accountants and figure out how to help their karate business really get kicking it..

And what those BNSF railroaders really need is a nice local low priced general store close to the train depot. And I think they would know just the place. It just needs a little over haul.

Like some graffiti bodega of a small city. Or a little market with the rounded windows of the Little Hondrous Mexican place. Double panes and glazed to keep the air in cool or the air in comfortable warm. Some solar paneling and some better lighting. And of course registers and counters and shelving. Some meats and breads and some homemade food to go. A small deli/kitchen and a real dine counter in the back. Like the Mexican market in the old Blockbuster in Los Lunas. But instead of Mexican because Pete's makes amazing chile rellanos and good food, some country food. Like okra and collard greens and mac and tuna casserole and some old fashioned picnic food. May be even sell some picnic baskets to go.

That place on Becker. The entire Avenue feels so alive. So different than any other street,I used go just cry when i would drive in that area after moving here to New Mexico.

Until today i did not remember where those bodies were buried. I got in many fights there on Becker. I've had to hide and shield and run and tree says they gave me aid one night when I got really wounded and I was crying in my hiding place.

And so to pay back their kindness. I offer them ideas and a willingness to help fund. A small percent.

That night in February 1994 it was so cold and unexpected. Texas was so warm and I was so angry i had forgot my coat. I was just in a tank top and jeans. Dusty had broken my neck. Killed me dead. So my mommy woke me and told me to hide up against the bowling alley and i argued in a loud whisper "this place is BAD! I need to run and find some place else!"

And the sister/daughter and her then boyfriend had came out with the trash and i hid in the dark from the light and she said "oh you know what? Im going to smoke. Don't wait up"

And she confessed to me he beat her. I told her "just uh... A few minutes. Let me fix my neck and here uhh ill help you"

"Here use this" she handed me a broken pin hidden behind the air conditioner. She just placed it on top. "When you're ready. Ill leave the door open for you"

She knew what i was doing. Trying to save those kids. And she told me "you feel like I feel. He beats me, too. If you ever need help, just let me know"

And i told her i would help her. She helped me hide the body in a dummy waiter. I healed him 3 days later. While I stood next to him, she was scared. Didn't know what to do because he would stink. So i held the pin, healed him and let him out. "You need to leave here and never come back"

I beat him once a week. I couldn't best Dusty or 3 on one but I could beat him and i did, after 3 months he left. Alive. Never has she seen him again.

I did though. He moved into my neighbourhood in Texas. And i had him killed then. But Dusty took him to the hospital and had him put in a medical coma. He was executed this morning in the gas chamber. He had a glass eye. Because I hit him so hard with a baseball bat that his eyeball popped out. They couldn't reattach it.

I saw him a couple of years ago. About 5 years ago. He looked at me from his truck while I was in mine. And I got scared. I was so scared for days. I had to leave my house with my daughter after trying to sleep under her bed because of my heart condition, it wouldn't calm down and I needed sleep and I was a royal mess and I spent 3 nights in a hotel in Albuquerque. Because I couldn't settle the fear he caused me in my own home.

I'm not scared of him now. I've built myself up against him. But he was terrifyingly scary.

Now knowing I had to save her and not understanding why she couldn't do it herself but just accepting it. Only understanding that Dusty whipped me. Now I know the intimidation he gave her.

His twin is still alive and is a POS. But he just died and I'm glad someone finally listened.

His name isn't listed with the 36. Nor are the other 30 with him. They don't deserve recognition. Only tattle to tell that horrible people have left and the world is a bit safer.

They were in an adjacent gas chamber, different than the 37.

Anyway we all know she's a good lady and i think we can help her out on old Becker. Tree drew the architecture of what I said and can deliver it to her and her husband for consult. He's just emailed it. He's said.

Its been a long day for many of us.

Again i thank the many fire fighters I hope a ladder and slide of a fire truck like photographed this morning is included. Something sustainable and something elegant and mature.

I'm a hero

But I also need heros

So thank you to all that have been one.

To me, especially but also to others

I've spoken about 36 children and young adults that were smaller and weaker. Ones no one in,the world were able to save.

No one. Not one person. No one. Not even me.

And Lord knows i tried and I died doing it.

7.12.2020 ended the nightmares of so many. Bodies have been found and can be put in a home of their choice.

That is one of the best gifts from anyone and that came from Bobby and our two friends that ran out when told to.

Bobby could not had done it without those 36 dead supporting him.

Always do be careful of the dead. Many like to have friends. In Okmulgee at Dripping Springs there's a woman on the dock area in the camping section. She's so strong and she always always tries to get people to drown to be with her. But they always leave her she says. She's just a 3 year old girl. She does a magical lure and all that she can. Everything but mean. She's scary because she's so tempting. 835 people she's gotten to play but she's only drowned 8. In 462 years. Little like her that panicked that they forgot how to swim. I am terrified to go on that dock. In that water i will not swim. She's too sweet. I'm always too tired. So be careful.

This was different with Bobby. He didn't know that they were dead. And he claims they certainly didn't seem like it.

I believe him. But i also know its true.

They were dead. Dead nearly 30 years.

I forgot what started this post. But I'm done now. My back hurts and I'm tired.