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๐ฆ๐š๐ฆ๐š๐›๐ž๐š๐ซ.

02/20/2021 05:36 PM 

a time to heal [1]

  A Time to HealMAMABEAR***  There is a saying regarding seasons of one’s life that is known throughout the world and realms, and it goes a little something like this . . .   ‘to everything there is a season. . .and a time to every purpose under the sun.a time to be born and a time to die.a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which has been planted.a time to kill and a time to heal.a time to break down, and a time to build up.a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together.a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing.a time to get, and a time to lose.a time to keep, and a time to cast away.a time to rend, and a time to sew.a time to keep silent, and a time to speak.a time to love, and a time to hate. . .. . . a time for war,And a time for peace.’ [ecclesiastes 3]  *** War. Bloody war.Molly hated war.So much had been lost over the last two wars. . .Her brothers had been killed.She left her job as a Healer in order to protect her family from the one thing she hated . . . war.What was the point of it all?What was the point of her staying home. . . leaving what she loved in order to protect those she cared for most in this world. . . only to have her child taken from her at the end of it all?It seemed ridiculous now. . . and along the way, she lost a part of herself.Molly spent weeks hidden away at Shell Cottage.She remained in her room for days on end - not eating, not drinking, not doing anything but lying in bed or sitting in that bloody rocking chair thinking about how she hadn’t been able to save Fred.She spent months and months brooding and wasting away into basically nothing but skin and bone - which was nothing like the Molly everyone knew and loved.The powerful, courageous, brave and bold Matriarch had lost herself in grief.She’d pushed her husband away, her children away - save for Ginny and Bill - and now she was left with nothing but a memory of who she had once been.To the outside world, her and Arthur were the perfect couple.They loved each other.They had a large family they couldn’t always provide for in the most lucrative of ways, but somehow made ends meet.Molly believed their love was idolised. It made her heart happy to know her children and their friends had a couple to look up to when shaping their own relationships, but what was not always shown through those rose-coloured glasses her children wore, was the sadness and heartbreak that was slowly building up because of the war.Molly and Arthur loved one another so much - that was certain - but the war and the toll it was taking on each of them individually had been slowly growing and growing over the years, and the final straw for Molly - the final point of break - was losing Fred to the war.She wanted to be with Arthur, but she couldn’t look at her husband without seeing Fred in those matching eyes they shared. . .and Arthur’s smile. . . oh, Fred took after his father in so many ways.The twins always looked like a younger version of Arthur.Molly hadn’t even been able to spend much time with George - and she hated herself for admitting it - but it made her sick every time to see his face because all she saw was Fred.What sort of a person . . .what sort of a mother thought that way?It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see her family.It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hold George in her arms and tell him everything was going to be okay. . .It wasn’t that she didn’t want Arthur’s comfort. . .It wasn’t any of that.She wanted them so bad!It was the guilt and shame of how her grief had taken so much from her. . . it was that which kept her away.It was the fact that looking at her family made her think of the one person she could not save. . . and she hated herself for that.It’s what started her journey of self-discovery. It was in her pursuit to find herself that brought her here to St. Mungo’s, working as a Healer once again.. . . but it was in her pursuit to find herself that she was beginning to lose herself even more than before.Why?Because yes, Molly needed an identity outside of her family and being the ‘homemaker’, but her family had always been her driving force - her reason for getting up in the morning - and now without them, she was finding herself lost in work.She hadn’t even spoken a word to Arthur in (and yes, she knew the exact number of days) ninety-one days . . . because after returning to the hospital, she reconnected with an old colleague who had invited her out for a drink.It was harmless. . . for her. He wanted more, but Molly was a married woman and would never cheat on Arthur.She just wanted. . . to feel something with another human (and she wanted that person to be Arthur but of course she was too bloody stubborn and terrified to go home!) and that was why she had agreed, but the problem with her choices (other than the obvious: she was a married woman) was . . . she was the mother to the now famous Ronald and Ginny Weasley, the best friend and girlfriend of Harry Potter, and someone who very quickly became quite popular in the various Wizarding Papers and Tabloids - including the Prophet - once being spotted at the local pub sharing a pint with a man who wasn’t her husband.This wasn’t the woman she knew herself to be.This wasn’t Molly Weasley at all.She wasn’t the type to end up on the front page of a scandalous magazine.The scandal brought publicity to St. Mungo’s - which the higher ups and the hospital appreciated due to lack of funds coming in to help aid the Ministry for Medicine thanks to the war.Though, anyone who knew Molly personally, knew, the scandal, the grief, and the mess she’d made of her life was killing her inside.The last three months and one day - ninety-one days - had been the worst of them all.In her anger during one of her outbursts toward her mother for being so daft and not coming home to her dad, Ginny informed Molly that Arthur had begun dating a colleague. A woman Molly had known for years had her eyes on Arthur and had been waiting for an opportunity to sweep in and make him her own.She knew why he moved on . . . because of her mistake.He was angry.He was hurt.He was lonely.He was sad.He was grief stricken. . . and he felt his wife had abandoned him.Molly knew.The once strong and impenetrable Weasley pair had been broken all thanks to their grief and stubbornness in not coming home to each other.Molly knew this was why he chose to do what he did.. . .but he never knew the full story.He never knew she didn’t allow anything further to develop from that night.He only knew what the tabloids told him that. . . THE MOTHER OF RONALD WEASLEY, BEST FRIEND TO HARRY POTTER, SEEN OUT WITH A MAN WHO IS NOT HER CHILDREN'S FATHER. . . for more of this juicy inquiry, read page 7. (Even in war and the loss that came from it, the news didn’t care about whom they did or didn’t hurt. All they cared about was a sale.)Molly knew in Arthur’s anger he read page seven.She knew he read the lies and speculation.. . .and she knew it was in his anger and hurt and the feelings of betrayal he inevitably harboured, that he chose to find the comfort he needed in someone else.She knew it was why they were now legally separated.Molly didn’t even blame him.He had been patient and waited for her.She had been the one who continued to push him away.Molly Prewett Weasley.The woman who was looked up to by so many children whom she cared for had made a mess of her life. . . and had gone from role model to example of “who not to be” overnight.. . . all because she allowed the grief of her son’s death to take over. . . and snuff out all the light she had left to keep her going in life.. . . but for everything there was a season.   A time to kill and a time to heal. . .   And as the emergency bay doors of St. Mungo’s opened. . . Molly’s - and the Weasleys in general - time to heal and mend what had been broken and lost was about to begin.“What have you got?” Molly asked as she stepped forward to greet the resident working on her service.She was standing in the middle of the corridor just outside of where the madness was taking place, where she preferred to be presented to before actually stepping inside so she could focus on her patient rather than the busyness that was St. Mungo’s Department for Accidents and Emergencies.The resident looked nervous - which was odd, seeing as he was normally one who was quite sure and . . . almost cocky even . . . when it came to presenting cases to Molly.He was always the one who was obviously trying to prove himself to his mentor, so if he was having a hard time spitting out whatever it was that was going on with this patient. . . something was not right.“Oh enough nonsense, already!” Molly went for the chart, but the resident pulled back so she couldn’t have it.Molly’s brows raised in shock.Her arms crossed over her chest, and she now glared at the young man.“If you have any intentions of keeping your job, I suggest you hand over that record.”The resident did as he was told, but he looked pale. . . ill even.Molly was genuinely perplexed by the entire endeavour.She didn’t even open the file before speaking once more. “Calm yourself, dear. It’s only a patient. If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe you were about to tell me someone from my family was - -”Molly’s words faded into the background.Her entire world slowed down and came to a complete halt as the facial expression on the resident confirmed the words she had only been speaking as a mere joke.Her heart began to race faster than she knew what to do.Her mind was mush.She tried to move but her legs were nothing but jelly.Fabian died in the field of war.Gideon died on the table from war.Her mother died from the grief of losing her favourite sons to war.Her father died from dragon pox.Bilius died from dragon pox.Fred was killed in the war.. . .hadn’t she suffered enough grief in one lifetime?Who could possibly be next? DON’T THINK LIKE THAT!Molly shoved the chart back toward the resident and flew down the corridor and through the entrance of the Emergency Wing.She stopped and stood in the middle of the Department as soon as her eyes landed on her family arriving through Apparition - some together and some apart - she mentally listed each one of them who arrived . . . as if she was doing a headcount to see who in Merlin’s name was not alright!Percy was first.Bill and Fleur came second.Next there was Ronald, Hermione and George. . . Molly had to fight the tears when she saw them.She hadn’t seen her boys in quite some time, and George. . .oh George.She couldn’t help but struggle to fight the sick feeling which tried to arise within her at the sight of George.All her mind allowed her to see was Fred.YOU ARE A HORRIBLE MOTHER. Molly gulped back the bile which rose in her throat at the sight of him. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?Following, came Harry, and, finally, Ginny, who rushed over to the hospital bed where someone in their family was clearly unconscious.A person whom Molly had yet to lay eyes on.She didn’t see Charlie.Charlie.Was it Charlie? NOT CHARLIE. NO. IT COULDN’T BE. . .BUT IT COULD BE! HE WORKS WITH DRAGONS. HOW MANY TIMES DID I TELL HIM I DIDN’T WANT HIM GALLIVANTING ACROSS THE WORLD WORKING WITH THOSE DANGEROUS BEASTS??!!?!?!?! She began to panic, but had yet to find the courage to move, and just when she convinced herself it was Charlie, her eyes landed on Madeline McGuiness - Arthur’s new. . . whatever she was - who arrived and rushed over to the bed, kissing the forehead of the patient, whom Molly could now see clear as day was her husband.Molly’s everything. . . sank.Her head spun at record speed.She also had a strong desire to hex that woman for daring to touch Arthur with her lips!TO EVEN BE NEAR THE MAN SHE - MRS. MOLLY WEASLEY - LOVED.HER HUSBAND - - THANK YOU VERY MUCH!She didn’t blame Arthur for his actions in grief, but she sure in Merlin’s name blamed that bloody woman for stooping so low as to date a married man whilst his relationship with his wife - the mother of his seven children - was in crisis.A person should know when not to date another, and this was one of those times that even in legal separation, it was not right!. . . but all she could do in that moment was worry about his safety.She didn’t care if he didn’t love her anymore.She didn’t care if they never worked out their differences.All she cared about was that the love of her life was going to make it out alright.“Arthur. . .” Apparently, his name left her lips louder than she expected because at that very moment, the heads of those whom she loved - though was mostly estranged from - all turned and stared at their mother - even Madeline looked her way.Molly stood there wide-eyed toward all of them.From where she stood - on the other side of her family and her husband’s new . . . whatever she was - Molly felt as if she was on the outside looking in at the life she once had - at the life she was meant to be living again.She was dressed in sky blue scrubs - because after one too many instances back in the day when she worked as a resident where projectile vomit and other bodily fluids were constantly flying about, she learnt never to wear anything but scrubs when working a shift in the Emergency Wing.Her long mane of curls was pulled back into a ponytail.She wanted so badly to step forward and meet her family and inquire what happened, but she was so afraid. . .and at that very moment, another attending, Richard Reynolds - the man whom she’d gone to the pub with - arrived to take on the case.“I think it’s best I handle this one, Prewett," he said eyeing Molly as her resident - who she would scold later- handed him Arthur’s chart.Molly cringed when he referred to her as ‘Prewett’.She didn’t have any qualms with her former Surname. She had a problem with Richard using it as a slap in the face because he knew she’d lost her husband after their outing together and was now barely holding onto her children.After she rejected any more outings offered by him, Richard had been awful to her, and made it a point to call her by her Maiden name rather than her married Surname.She knew it was just his way to add salt to the wound and to make his own pride feel better for being turned down.“You know the rules regarding family, Mollz.”She felt herself cringing again - only Arthur and a few others were allowed to call her that.Back in the day, before Richard turned into a complete cockwomble, he was one of those few Molly considered a friend, but now that he had done a 180 flip and become a completely different person, he was nothing to her any longer - well, other than an absolute pain in the arse!Normally, she would’ve fought back and told him never to speak to her in such a way - she held a higher rank than he did, after all - but there was not much of a fight left in Molly.She was tired of everything.“Not to worry, though. Your precious Arthur is in good hands.” He flashed her a sly smile - one that made her want to vomit up sick all over him.Due to the state of shock and horror and fear and embarrassment and shame and guilt and pain and grief she felt, the normally strong and bold woman, who wouldn't dare allow this arse of man anywhere near her husband, the Matriarch and Healer was paralysed before everyone whom she loved and hated as Richard approached her family and went on to inform them all that Arthur had a heart attack.  To be continued. . .

Hardin

02/20/2021 05:22 PM 

drabbles

.topQuoteContainer{ width:480px; font-family: Georgia; font-size:20px; text-transform: uppercase; padding:10px; background:#4b1919; margin-bottom:10px; margin-bottom:10px; text-align: center; color:#fff; } .topImageContainer{ width:480px; height:150px; padding:10px; background:#4b1919; margin-bottom:10px; margin-bottom:10px; padding-top:20px; padding-bottom:20px; } .writingContainer{ width:500px; height:500px; background:#4b1919; margin-bottom:10px; margin-bottom:10px; } .innerWritingContainer{ width:440px; height:440px; padding:20px; font-family: Georgia; font-size:12px; text-align: justify; color:#fff; background: #000000; margin-top:10px; overflow: auto; display: inline-block; } ๐•Ž๐•ฃ๐•–๐•ฅ๐•”๐•™๐•–๐•• ๐”ป๐•’๐•ช For a guy like me there wasn't many good Christmas memories. There were no fun times or Christmas for that matter after my adoptive mother passed away. I hated Christmas. That was until almost two years ago and on. A little over two years ago I had one person enter my life who brought a light I didn't know I needed. She may not be mine but she's the closest thing I have to family aside from her mother. For me, though she is like my own child and I will always protect her as such. Now I know the memory, right. Well, I don't have just one... I have two.Ever hold something so.... so tiny and fragile? Like if you moved the wrong way this tiny little human would break or shatter into a million pieces. While worried about her mother and if she would make it. Then being removed from the room when they had to save Bianca's life. Its something I wouldn't wish on anyone. To watch as your best friend started slipping away.... However when she was in the clear and in recovery they let me hold Luna.. I remember laughing because I had to correct them, let them know i wasn't her father. But little did I know just how much of a father figure I would become. I soon realized just how much this little one would have a piece of my heart. With one look.. just one and her tiny little fingers gripping around one of mine... I was sold... 100% wrapped around her little digits. I knew in that moment I would give my life for her in a heartbeat, even if she wasn't my flesh and blood.Now I know you asked for one but as you watch a little one grow, learn and adapt to the world around them it's hard not to have more. She may not have understood what Christmas was but watching her and helping her open gifts on Christmas morning for the first time. The smile on her face and the giggles that spewed and filled the room could warm even the coldest of hearts. I was never asked to be a father figure to this little moon but damn I don't regret a single minute. It's little memories like this I will always cherish because of her little moonlight I am a better man than I was before.  “๐”ป๐•ช๐•š๐•Ÿ๐•˜ ๐•š๐•ค ๐•’ ๐•จ๐•š๐•๐•• ๐•Ÿ๐•š๐•˜๐•™๐•ฅ ๐•’๐•Ÿ๐•• ๐•’ ๐•Ÿ๐•–๐•จ ๐•ฃ๐• ๐•’๐••.”

๐๐‹๐€๐‚๐Š ๐๐€๐‘๐€๐ƒ๐„,

02/20/2021 03:53 PM 

-CS

1. Would your character kill? Under what circumstance? --- He would, and has, but only in certain circumstances. He doesn't like to kill people unless he absolutely has to, and in some cases he's definitely had to. IE; Killing his parents so they wouldn't force his brother into the cult. 2. Has your character committed any crimes? What and why? --- Being a vagabond and always traveling, he's definitely committed crimes, mostly theft but only from people he knew could afford it. He had to eat somehow. 3.  What is the most evil thing your character has done? --- Faked his own death and abandoned his friends and his little brother. 4. What is the 'best' thing they've ever done? --- Killed his parents so that he could spare his brother a life of hell. 5. In your character's eyes, what is the worst thing a person could do? --- The worst thing someone could do is hurt a child. He's run into a few child ghost, and it often enrages him if they were murdered. TIDBITS1. What is your character's favorite color? --- Korain really likes the color red. A lot of clothing he owns is red, but a more darker red. 2. What is your character's favorite food? --- He's mostly keen on his own culture's food, so he often eats Korean meals. 3.  What are 2 of their biggest pet peeves? --- Two of his biggest pet peeves are people who talk with their mouth's full and people who don't shower. 4. What is one thing they never leave the house without? --- He never leaves his house without a gun ever since he was shot. 5. What is a hobby that they enjoy? --- Korain really enjoys taekwondo and is remarkably good at it. CORNERSTONE1. What are 3 of your character's strengths? --- Being able to speak with and see the dead. This helps in the event that the ghost was someone who was murdered, that way he can bring their death to justice. He's also very charming, which helps him get away with a lot and get whatever he wants. He can sing, but this is not something he often announces. 2. What are 3 of your character's weaknesses? --- Korain is VERY stubborn, which often gets him into trouble. He's a lone wolf, which is bad because he gets loney easily. He also can be brought down a size when it comes to his brother's well being.3. What does your character hope to improve on? --- His desire to push. The reason he got shot was because he was determined to solve a cold case, however this often puts his life in danger and he needs to practice being more careful instead of just diving into situations. 4.  How does your character prefer to resolve conflict (talk/violence/trickery/etc.)? --- Korain doesn't know how to properly display his emotions, so in bad situations he usually just becomes a smart ass. Which... could be bad in his case, considering he could piss off the wrong person and be killed. 5. Does your character hide their feelings? In what scenario would they share their feelings (if any)? --- He does, very much so, and often hides them with sarcasm.  

๊œฑสœแด€แด›แด›แด‡ส€แด‡แด… แด˜แด€แดก๊œฑ

02/20/2021 03:32 PM 

Sophia's Basics

Name: Sophia Marie VasquezNicknames: Soph, Wolf Girl, Wolf BabeAge: 22Date Of Birth: November 13thResidence: Angel CovePast Residences: Wherever I wanted to go at the timeSexual Orientation: Bi-SexualRelationship Status: SIngleEthnicity: AustraulianHair & Eye Color: Blonde - Blue (Gold-yellowish when phasing or in wolf form)Height: 5'6Weight: 130lbsBackground: Sophia was born a wolf, her father was an evil Alpha who loves to torture, use and do unspeakable things to inncoents (humans). He even killed his own kind, when she became of age at 16 and phased for the first time, he told her the truth, what she was, what he was and once she phased. She changed, she use to be sweet, caring and loving towards everyone, but her fathers evil side took a hold of her. Causing her to do the same or worse unspeakable things to people, especially men, she used them for money, sex or whatever she wanted and tossed thema side. Once her father could control her completely he had Sophia kidnap a rival Alpha's daughter Pnina. A few weeks later she snapped out of it waking up in a strange place, she looked around and realized what she had done. She felt so ashamed and now she is onthe right side of the dark vs light supernatrual world. She has flashbacks of what she has done in her past, and even scars from killing others; hunters, wolves and even her father.ย ย 

๐’ข๐“Ž๐“…๐“ˆ๐“Ž

02/20/2021 03:06 PM 

Oink Oink
Current mood:  amused

Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all What happens when you leave crumbs? The birds will follow you home, and if you feed them, they will never leave. Nicolette knew this was far from over. If only Dave had followed the rules and never sent Gypsy that request. She would deal with her cousin later as to why she sunk back into the pits of hell for a couple of bucks. She was a f***ing Kennedy, for f*** sakes. There was no need for her to open her legs for anything other than love. If she hadn't learned anything before tonight, Nicolette was sure this episode was the cure she needed. One could hope, at least. As the midnight blue Bugatti moved through Los Angeles's streets, the music played in the background. Not any music. It was the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack. Fitting, it seemed. As she programmed the address into the GPS, Nicolette knew she didn't need it, but there was something funny about at least one person knowing where she was going. As the car pulled into the lot, she looked around at the scum walking the streets. It was pitiful the way Americans took care of their own. Pay them nothing and expect them to survive in a world where you will never make it if you don't have money. Most of these street urchins lost to drugs, but not all of them. Occasionally, a mother and child would catch her eyes. Those were the ones that broke the heart she never thought she possessed. She never gave them cash, but she would get a hotel and a hot meal for them. Money meant drugs, and she was opposed to numbing yourself to make it through another day. Nicolette checked her watch before exiting the car. Dawn had broken a few hours prior, and the only vehicle in the parking lot had a fast-food sticker on the bumper. There is only one person that could be. Dave was in the office and more than likely stuffing another lard-filled meal down his throat. Maybe she would help it along. Nic grabbed one last thing. A duffle bag from the trunk. The moment Nicolette stepped into the building, she smelled it. Body odor, rancid food, and greed. Some would say the latter had no scent, but for Nic, she could sniff out a money-grubbing pig the moment she smelled one. She walked down the hall of the dilapidated office building, her nails raked across the wall, a forewarning to her arrival. She would play fair with Dave by giving him a chance to run. It was too bad. The only thing he worried about was running out of ranch for the pizza he was dunking it in. As she slipped inside, Nicolette pounded on the walls of the old building, following the scent of cheap food. Step by step, her stomach filled with laughter. She could only imagine the look on his face if she carried an ax behind her and not the duffle bag. Honestly, it might save her a lot of work. Fat bastard would have a heart attack all on his own, but what fun would that be? Dave deserved all the bells and whistles that a woman like Nicolette could provide. She was a force to be reckoned with when someone f***s with her family the way he did. "Who the f*** is out there," Dave yelled. Pushing back his chair with a squeak of the wheels, the three hundred and fifty-pound man waddled from the office, greasy bib still attached. The moment his eyes took in the person in front of him, panic set in. Dave wasn't ready for another encounter with Nicolette, but she couldn't wait for hers. With a smirk, Nicolette advanced, shooing him back in the office, "Oh, go eat the rest of your food. You don't want to waste your last meal, now do you?" As she pushed her way into his office, Nic placed her hand to his chest, forcing the rotund man to step back in against his will. "Sit the f*** down. We need to talk about what you did last night. I'm sure even with all that sh*t clogging your arteries, you can remember sending my Saint of a cousin on a date with Rocco Lucchese," Nicolette said. "Saint? Who the f*** are you kidding. That bitch is a whore, and one of the best, I might add," Dave laughed as he picked up another slice of pizza. As he stuffed the pie into his mouth, the grease ran down his arm, his face littered with remnants of the meal, "You need to get your f***ing glasses checked if you think that dumb bitch is a Saint. By the way, how did her date go?" Dave laughed as he ate, food spilling from his mouth. "Have you no shame? Jesus Christ, man, you eat like a pig. Oink oink," Nicolette cackled. As the memory of Frank Paloma eaten alive by a pack of feral pigs forced its way into her mind, she knew that was too good for Dave. He deserved something special. Something that only Nicolette could give him. As she sat across from the man, her right leg crossing to expose her long legs to him, the way he looked at her was not the same as the food. He seemed to almost orgasm from the sh*t that went down his throat. Maybe you can fall for food. God knows if his weight was any indication he fell in love a lot. She wondered if the fast-food establishments would grieve when he was gone? They would soon find out just how dedicated to their customers they were. "Can you leave? I sent the f***ing money to the whore already. Not my fault if she went missing afterward," his voice rang out in a snarky tone. With a simple tap of her fingers on her knew, Nic heard all she needed. That a**hole knew what was going to happen to her cousin. "Missing? Oh, you fat f***, there is nothing wrong with Gypsy. She is home with her daughter, where she belongs. Now, Mr. Lucchese, well, he doesn't swim very well. I hope he paid you in advance?" she asked. Nicolette wasn't prepared for the shock on the man's face. He looked like a ghost walked through the room and slapped him. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" she laughed. Dave fumbled for his words as he wiped the grease from his fingers, "Bitch, why the f*** are you even here? I have nothing for you other than a hard d*ck. You want some of this?" Dave was showing his fear as the time ticked away. Grabbing his phone, dialing, the other end of the line rang once before being picked up. "Let me speak to Mr. Lucchese. It's important," he said. As silence filled the room, Dave listened to the man on the other end scream that his boss went missing fourteen hours prior. Sitting back in her chair, Nicolette smirked. It was one of those Kodak moments. "Seems like you were the last one to speak to poor Rocco. Can you imagine what's going to happen to you when his people come looking for him? I don't know much about the Mafia, but when the boss ghosts, so do the last people in contact with him," uttered Nicolette. "The whore was the last one. Not me. All I did was set up the f***ing hit, nothing else. F*** you bitch," Dave screamed. Nicolette shook her head, but this time, the laughter wasn't there. She didn't know for sure that Dave set Gypsy up until now. His confession sealed his coffin. Pushing her lips to a drastic bow, she grabbed the bag on the floor, pulling out a handgun. "Now, here's the deal. I hate these things. I don't even know how to use them, but Rocco was kind enough to leave this behind, so I guess that was heaven sent?" she said. As she twirled the weapon around in her hand, pointing it at Dave as she tapped the floor. "Do you remember when Gypsy complained to you that Frank Paloma used a gun on her? Raped her with it before he hurt her?" she asked. "What did you say to her when she cried for months over that ordeal?" Nicolette asked. Dave's eyes widened to the size of saucers, shaking his head, "She never told me. I swear it. She never said he hurt her." "You f***ing liar. She cried to you, and you told her to suck it up and be a real woman," she screamed. "Get on your f***ing knees," Nicolette demanded. "F*** you," Dave screamed. "One, two," she said, her finger on the trigger of the gun. If she got to three, Dave was going to ruin all her fun. She smirked as he dropped to his knees, putting his hands in the air in self-defense. Did this man think Nicolette had anything that would closely resemble a heart? As she moved closer, Nic rubbed the nozzle of the gun across his lips, pushing down on his bottom lip. "Opened wide. Come on, Dave. Just pretend it's a burger. Open up and say ah," she laughed. His mouth opened just as Nicolette pushed the gun into his mouth, holding it, so the barrel laid across his tongue. She wondered for a moment if he could taste the last kill? Could he taste gunpowder, or was it clean? "Wrap your lips around it. You know, like Gypsy did. Wait, different lips, but same results. Close the mouth," Nicolette said. Moving the weapon in and out, she f***ed his mouth with the revolver, disgusted as a thin line of saliva dripped down his chins. Dave mumbled, sucking off the gun, his eyes filling with tears. For a second, Nicolette caught the image of her cousin doing the same. She knew Gypsy well enough to know she begged for her life when she was assaulted. In and out, the weapon slid with his saliva as lubrication. He was lucky. She could have f***ed him dry, but this was much more fun. "All of this, well, sorry Dave, but it's boring. I've seen better p0rn," she laughed. She pulled the trigger, the empty chamber rang out, but nothing happened. "Sh*t," she said. Completely clearing the weapon in his mouth, Nicolette shrugged her shoulders as though she was shocked. Far from it. The young woman would never use a gun on anyone. She was more personal when it came to death. A gun has no soul. "You f***ing bitch. Dumb f***ing cunt," Dave screamed. Without hesitation, Nicolette grabbed the letter opener on the desk, ramming it through the side of his head, a direct hit to the temple. As she pulled back, her fist slammed into the skull one more time before the fat son of a bitch fell forward, face-planting on the dirty floor. She left the weapon inside his head, knowing that when they ran it for prints, nothing would come back. Her birth was never recorded. She was the ghost that no one ever wanted for a haunting. "Well, then, it looks like my work's done. Remember Dave; gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins. You f***ed up, fat boy," Nicolette laughed as she left the building. She would rid the world one pig at a time. "Oink oink, Mother f***er"  

๐“ซ๐“ฒ๐“ฝ๐“ฎ ๐“ถ๐“ฎ,

02/20/2021 02:34 PM 

DARKNESS.

MORALS1. Would your character kill? Under what circumstance?She would definitely kill. Bad guys, people who cross her, people who f*** with her friends and family. She wouldn't even bat an eye. 2. Has your character committed any crimes? What and why?Yes, she conspired GHOUL'S murder because he was raping her. 3.  What is the evilest thing your character has done?Same as above. While GHOUL was a bad person, she conspired to murder and then played it out like it was just something Lucy did. 4. What is the 'best' thing they've ever done?Mi-Sun considers giving birth to her daughter the best thing she's done. 5. In your character's eyes, what is the worst thing a person could do?Stab their family in the back. TIDBITS1. What is your character's favorite color?She really loves the color purple. 2. What is your character's favorite food?Mi-Sun really loves Mexican food. 3.  What are 2 of their biggest pet peeves?People who are full of themselves. People who hurt children. 4. What is one thing they never leave the house without?She never leaves the house without a weapon on her and her keys. 5. What is a hobby that they enjoy?She really really enjoys baking ever since Ludo got her into it. CORNERSTONE1. What are 3 of your character's strengths?a. Her abilities. b. Her wit and charm. c. Her leadership. 2. What are 3 of your character's weaknesses?a. Yu-Ri.b. Moon.c. Her past. 3. What does your character hope to improve on?Mi-Sun definitely wants to learn to control her attitude better so that it doesn't interfere with her leadership role. 4.  How does your character prefer to resolve conflict (talk/violence/trickery/etc.)?Mi-Sun is definitely a more 'in your face' kind of person. Most people are scared to piss her off. 5. Does your character hide their feelings? In what scenario would they share their feelings (if any)?Mi-Sun is very vocal when she's angry, however, when she's sad she likes to hide it. She thinks it's a form of weakness to show her sadness around people. 

theรก tou paradeรญsou

02/20/2021 01:22 PM 

rules.

I am here to roleplay as Princess Diana aka Wonder Woman. Refrain from asking me to portray other roles for you. I will not. I am a multi-para to novella player. I do read comics. I will respond to quick starters if they inspire me. Usually, I choose to discuss stories first though. I suffer from some very severe carpal tunnel and tennis elbow. There are times that I just cannot physically write. I am sorry. It happens and I will do what I can to get better as fast as I can. Please do not rush me or make me feel bad about this. It is just not nice to be so impatient or intolerant with me, it will make me second guess writing with you at all. I write for a group called No Man's Land. You can ask me about it or you can just write 1X1's with me, either is fine. I like action-orientated and adventure stories after all I am a superheroine. I do not want to roleplay tea and crumpets or a trip to McDonald's. I also do not write a female character only to become barefoot and pregnant.  Wonder Woman is bold, strong,, and fierce. She will have her moments of weakness but for the most part I want engaging stories that make sense for my charcter, not "I want to be a knocked up housewife dribble." Love interests I prefer will always be Superman or Steve Trevor. I do not really like the Batman/Wonder Woman ship. It does not necessarily mean it cannot happen. If she does come across a Batman she likes (which is not likely on this site) it may come to pass she winds up loving him. But, this is likely to happen when pigs learn to fly.  Love interests do not just happen either, they must be established in active role-play and not be forced. Psycho's especially Batman ones need not bother me. I am a nice person but will not tolerate crazy. If you have issues with women writers' that is on you and its has 0 to do with me. I do not want to discuss it. I do not want to know about it. I do not care. Deal with your issues before you approach me, I will not be your damn therapist. A Batman has continued to stalk me and act crazy with me for no rhyme or reason, he makes profile after profile after profile and I am saying it as clear as day- If you are this person, LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have never ever done anything to you or wronged you in any way, shape or form. Your issues with women have nothing to do with me! He has even gone so far to add me on discord only to call me a bitch and say I am the reason he hates rp.  The funny thing was I was only nice to this person so it leaves me rather frazzled. I do not want this character ruined, so if you are this person. I am asking that you please stop hassling me. I do have all the token names you have used and your discord, do not force my hand to out you to everyone and the site. I am a DC Comics player however I will play with Marvel characters if I like them. I tend to favor Spiderman or Deadpool and most other Marvel characters I like are all Xmen. I do not care for The Avengers, sorry. So no Thor or Iron Man stories with me. Not into it. I prefer to stay mostly in character unless its merely small talk. I do not want to know all the detail inner workings of your reality and I am not revealing mine. Let's just write and be cordial to one another. Savvy? I am here when I am here. I never forget a response I have to do even if I am out of commission for a while. There is no need to remind me about anything. I have a good memory. I am not into lewd, bdsm, p0rnographic, vore, furry, lolita or any other weirdo kinky writing you may have.  Nope. Not happening. I am a classy woman, treat me that way or get lost pervo! No cyber sexting.  I do not exchange any personal information with anyone. Discord is an unknown at this time as it has done nothing but upset me. (see rule #8)  If you have read these, just sign your name below and let us get to writing together! Love, Diana.

๐’ข๐“Ž๐“…๐“ˆ๐“Ž

02/20/2021 01:01 PM 

In Exile
Current mood:  blah

 

Hermione Draculea( Granger)

02/20/2021 12:04 PM 

Starter: A Toxic Love

It was mid day when Carlisle and Esme had been in the kitchen writing letters and sending emails to those who may be the to help them against the Vulturi. Jasper and Alice had left to do the same, as well as left Bella with something to do herself. It was nothing to look forward too. Each family member had contact who they could by mail, email and so on. Though it would seem that even that was not enough. They at first only got so many that agreed to be by their side. It was still at this time only a hand full. Edward took out some parchment and a quill. He began to write to a girl, one he knew in another life, one that like his daughter was born a vampire, but half witch as well. While he did this Esme saw him and knew as soon as she saw the quill who he was writing to, not to mention he had an owl in a cage behind him. " Edward...are you sure that's a good idea? I mean she was not made like Bella, she too was born, she is part human..." She said as he looks beside him and nods at her. " Yes, what not? After all she is the daughter of Draculea... Esme plus she is a witch, she could also gather others to help as well. Other witches and Wizards, possibly other vampires like her." Edward argued, as Esme sighs and nods in agreement finally. " Very well, your right, if anyone could be of assistance its Hermione." She said as she pats his shoulder and walks on. After he finished writing he let the owl out and speaking softly tells her to deliver the letter to Hermione Granger at Hogwarts. Hermione was leaving Hogwarts in a few days for winter holiday. She was planning on spending it with her parents, seeing that next year she would not see her adopted parents for sometime. Even though she still knew her true parentage, she still on occasion would visit the Grangers. Has she was packing, an white and red barn owl flew in her room. " Well hello there, what do you have? " she said as the little own flew from the window seal to her bed frame, letting the letter fall on her bed. Hermione picked it up and gave the owl a few nuts and a mouse. She read the letter. She was at first in a little shock, but part of her knew ' Cedric' was not what or who he said he was. The letter just confirmed her theories. She finished reading it and once she got to ' Help my family and friends prove to the Vulturi that born vampires are of no threat to them or our kind at all.' She put the letter down on her bed and looks at the owl and says, " Shall we fly my friend? " the owl screeches as Hermione called for Buckbeak, and jumping out her window lands on him in mid jump and they were off. Hermione arrived around the same time as the others, from Egypt, Ireland as well as Alaska and other places. She slid off Buckbeak and bows to him as she let him go off and hunt for food. It was then that Edward saw Hermione. He smiles walking towards her with open arms. " Hermione Granger, you came " he said hugging his old friend . " Yes, Cedric.. Or should I call you Edward ? Haha. No matter its good to see you." She said as he motion for her to fallow him to meet his family and the others. She met his family and they all seemed pleased she was there, even Bella, who thought she was a fairy tale, but Hermione let her know the story was complete fiction, just some of the people and places were real. It was not long after Carlisle called everyone in the front room for the meeting. He went on to explain the reasons for them being there and that confirmation was needed to be sure they would be there to see it through if a fight was to break out . Those that didn't decline stayed to go over the plan in different ways in case anything happened. Little did they know there was a spy among them. One who was sending information to the Vulturi. The fact Hermione was there put the spy in fear, for she was a born vampires, not from my just any vampire, but Draculea himself. With the the spy sent a letter to Demitri Vulturi in hopes to stay in his good graces. As well as she knew he could find Hermione and do away with her....She was jealous of Hermione and felt threatened by her. The spy was said to be friend to the Cullens but was offered a place with the Vulturi. Days went by and a messenger brings Demetri a letter from their spy.. It read: Dear Sir. I am writing to report they have brought in a witch to help as well, but not just any witch! The daughter of Draculea himself. Your humble servant, Delphine

Lazarus

02/20/2021 07:03 PM 

Moriarty and Miss Murder [Sample]

Yes, the extra drink he had picked up was indeed for Alexia, and he offered it to her as he spoke. “What do you suppose their minds actually have in common, apart from the endless dreariness and not having a single original thought among their pretentious brains? Sycophants and philistines, as shallow and tasteless as hard candy.” He paused a moment as he sipped his drink. “Just as hard to swallow too.” As their eyes locked he noticed she didn’t just look at your eyes when she spoke to you, she looked right into them, through them even, so deep it was like she was seeing beyond; a penetrative gaze to say the least. He wondered what it was she saw back there. Her own too, a stark contrast to his own almost black holes of deviance defection, hers bright and lively, full of life and intellect. They drew you in in much the same way her own penetrated yours, and what he saw in hers ran so much deeper than the cold facade she presented the world with.  Apart from the slight tilt in his head as his interest piqued, his posture didn’t change much, he was his usual confident yet relaxed self, in control and alert with an overactive mind taking in more than a normal brain should. Conversation or small talk, it mattered little, anything would do, she was clearly the most interesting person in here, it didn't take Sherlock to work that one out. Plus he was curious. Who wouldn’t be. He raised his brows at her words, again tilting his head in an amused agreement with her. Boredom. His mortal enemy. Most people bored him, in fact almost everything did, there was little that could not be improved upon. Most things and people had much room for it.  Yes he had noticed her attire, classy, expensive, yet minimal in decor and adornment. She was a woman with great taste, who knew she needed little more refinements than that of just herself. The darkness of her hair, and attire made her eyes stand out so much more, he glanced over her face briefly, as flawless as the rest of her. It wasn't often these days one met someone in the flesh that genuinely looked as good as they did in the pictures and articles that were printed about them. “Oh the press, how skilled they are at badly researched propagandic fairytales. Adorable aren’t they? Once upon a time there were real reporters, now they’re just repeaters.” He smirked.  No James wore no wedding ring, nor was he ever likely too. The friend he was here with bore no lipstick, in fact Jim would probably howl with laughter at the thought of Tiger wearing lipstick if he could read Alexia’s mind right now. As she half turned as if leaving, the posture did not fit completely, nor the position of her expensive footwear as he glanced down. He returned his gaze to her eyes once more  “Leaving so soon? Did I really bore you that much, already?” He pulled an expression of mock hurt. "I guess I really am losing my touch.” He said shaking his head at himself with a chuckle.As for his motives, beyond the satisfaction of general curiosity he still wasn't sure if he had any himself yet. That would depend on what she and her fellow colleagues and company had on offer that might catch and hold his interest. In truth he knew little of her, past various news articles and rumors among the underground as it were. But technology was something he was looking to expand in also. Just depended on the kind of technology available, and which societal organisations were involved with the company, as well as the whos and whys.  Moriarty's motives could change in an instant, he was soooo changeable; but to be fair he believed it was his only flaw.

๐•ธischief ๐•ธanaged

02/20/2021 06:06 PM 

Share Us.

***Made by M from Edits by M*** <br><center><a href="https://www.roleplayer.me/1684536&quot; target="_blank"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/OBcwEiK.png&quot;></a>  

๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜‰๐˜–๐˜ โ„ข

02/20/2021 02:34 PM 

Superboy & Clark (What If)

Underneath the beaming sun of recent noon, tall fields of grass and wheat surrounding the lonesome family home somewhere in Kansas, was none other than the Kent's farm and two weary parents of an unusual boy. Why the concern? Well, their son - Clark - has a biological condition. No, he's not defective or sick. Just unique. Right now, that uniqueness was uncontrollable and stranding him high above the farm, out of reach of his parents' caring embrace.   "We have to do something, Jonathan! Last time I just barely held onto him by the ankle... He might actually fly off for good!" Martha, the farmer's wife, exclaims. Nearly on the verge of gnawing at her nails much like how the worrisome anxiety in her core was eating at her from the inside out.    "I know! I... I know. I'll think of something, okay? I promise... Maybe I can use the old plane in the farm to get him down." The husband suggests, trying to keep his composure while a similar anxiety nags at him, as well. Unbeknownst to the couple, there's a third set of eyes on the 7-year-old idly drifting in midair. However, there was no sense of worry from this particular stranger's body language or expression. No, quite the opposite in fact: without being able to fight it, his lips curve into a grin of amusement. This individual was a unique young man, not so different from their Kent's dear Clark. You see, he was miles away from the boy and his family, though with his incredible hearing, it was as if he was standing in the same general area as the two. His innovative vision was just as otherworldly.  The young man makes a decisive decision before too long. With a quick survey of his surroundings, a gas station in the middle of nowhere, he scans for any signs of eyes looking his way. Barren of bodies, lucky for him. The last car took off barely a minute ago, and no signs that traffic was going to pick up any time soon. Within a blink and a gust of wind, the young man vanishes completely. Mindfully, he 'returns' within fair feet away from the Kent's farm, dust flowing pass him post immediate stop in his tracks. He's something to behold, though nothing anyone would associate with extraterrestrials upon sight of him. He stands at 5'11, a head of onyx shaggy hair, tattoos adorning his torso where his simple tank top doesn't reach, fitted jeans upheld by a belt, and a pair of worn sneakers. One could mistake him for a runaway trouble maker, or some sort of model of cliché bad boy aesthetics.    He casually makes his way toward the couple standing outside the house and looking hopelessly up into the sky. With a tone and structure of words that matches his carefree strides, he greets them.   "Hey! Hey... Uhh.. kinda' heard you two back there." The young man informs, pointing a thumb over his shoulder, smiling all the way. The couple's attention shift toward him with shock, taken aback by the unfamiliar soul.   "I--.. You heard us? Heard what , exactly?" Jonathan questions, dreading the possibilities of a stranger catching wind of what they were raising on their farm, and the word spreading to unfavorable people.   "E-everything is fine. You don't need to bother with u--" Martha began, though the young stranger chimes in with his hands lifting in a motion to show he comes in peace.    "Hey, it's alright. That's your kid up there, right?" He inquires, briefly shifting his sights skyward at the floating child. The two exchange stares for a moment before the young man's cyan hues settle back upon the couple before him. "I can get him down from there if you're having trouble."    "Oh.. I-- We would appreciate any help we can get, but you have to understand something, stranger... We can't let this sort of thing get around. He's our boy, you know. He may be different, but he's ours. " Jonathan responds.   "We love him dearly. We're doing our very best to help him through this. We would never intentionally put him in harms way." Martha adds.   "I understand. I'm not here for gossip material or anything like that. Just wanted to help a few people in need, is all." The adolescent assures calmly, soon turning where he stands. Sights fixing upward again.   "Thank you. You got something that could reach him? Otherwise, we could--" Jonathan begins, and the stranger gently cuts in.   "All fine. I got this." He informs and begins lifting off the ground. Ascending at his leisure as the couple look upon him with shock. They're not only ones, either. Wide blue eyes watch as that stranger ascend into the sky and approach. Soon the two boys were even level. Clark awkwardly floating at an near upside-down angle, while the stranger was upright like a natural. With a soft chuckle, the young man grips the other by the shoulders and turn him upright, as well.  There, a moment of silence creeps in as the older of the two bask in the nostalgia of those all-too-familiar brilliant blue eyes. The stranger is the one to end it.   "You okay, kiddo'?"   "Y-yeah.. I'm okay. Who... are you?" The child asks with deep curiosity, his expression looks as if he's trying to figure out one of the seven wonders of the world.   "Connor. My name is Connor. Yours is Clark, right?"    "Yeah, it is. How did you know?"   "Heard your parents yelling it. How about we work on getting you down from here?"   "Yeah, I want to get down. Are you going to carry me down?"   "Nope."   "No?"   "Yup. If I carry you down instead of teaching you how to get down, you'll just end up again when I'm not around."    "Oh. Okay... how do I get down?"   "It's not too hard. I guess it would be simple for you to use certain thoughts of things. To go down, trying thinking of a gentle river that flows down a slanted angle. It's slow and gentle." Connor advises, his hands retracting as his arms meet to cross over his torso. Clark heeds the advice and closes his eyes to envision the suggestion.   "A slow and gentle river..." He repeats softly.   "Imagine you're floating atop of that water and being carried down it. Down, down, and down a smooth cruise." Connor adds, while Clark heeds. Inhaling a deep breath, the boy exhales just as heavily.   "Down, down, down..." He repeats much like before.    "Oh my goodness! Clark, you got down!" Martha exclaims just a second or two before the two boys touch down on solid ground. She doesn't hesitate at all to come running, kneeling as she envelopes her son within a warm embrace. Relief soothing both parents.   "Huh, well would ya look at that? I can't thank you enough, stranger. You really got our boy down!" Jonathan speaks with evident gratitude as he joins the woman and child, his hand coming to rest upon Clark's shoulder.   "I was happy to help."   "Listen, if you need anything at all..." Jonathan attempts to offer, though Connor is well intending to decline politely.   "Seeing you three happy is reward enough, sir. I don't actually need anything at all."   "Are you sure? Not even a ride or something?" Martha inquires this time. With a subtle smile, the young man kindly declines again.   "Not a thing, ma'am. I'm good. Promise."   "Hm.. If you say so, but we won't forget the help you gave today." Jonathan makes known.   "Really, it's fine. You two don't owe me anything at all. Kinda' have to head back now, though. You three enjoy your evening." The male-in-black informs, already strolling off to take his leave; hands tucking into his pockets.   "Wait, who are you? You seem just like Clark... Do you know anything at all about him?" Martha calls out with a final question. Briefly pausing in his tracks, Connor peers over his shoulder to give an answer.   "Nah, never met the kid in my life. I'm just a boy from the big city. Be seeing you guys around, maybe." And with those words, the youth kicks off into the sky and flies off into the distance. With awestruck eyes, Clark watches from where he stands.   "Wow... That guy is super cool.."

Superboy, Connor Luthor, Clark Kent, Farm, DC

Devin

02/20/2021 01:27 PM 

lost love. feb task.

song: try - simple plan“You know how they say hurt people hurt others?” Devin sat across from her sister Tatiana, legs pulled up underneath her, a blanket and a cup of tea in her lap. “Dev, as much as I love you, you have a tendency to push people away and hurt them. No matter how much you try to push me away, you know I’m not going anywhere. But I think you made a big mistake letting Lucas go.” As much as Devin didn’t want to admit it, she knew Tatiana was right. One of the things she hated was how Tatiana had a tendency to hit her hard with the truth, even when she didn’t want to recognize it or admit to it.    Closing her eyes, Devin nodded her head slowly, dark brown eyes falling down to the cup she held in her hands as her brows furrowed slightly, the tip of her thumb grazing the rim of the cup. “Maybe I’m meant to be alone. That’s the story of my life, Tatiana.” Her eyes lifted to meet those of her sister’s gaze, a strand of hair falling into her face as she shook her head slowly. “I’m the best at letting people down, it’s what I do.” Her sister reached over to place a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You know that’s not true. We never grew up watching a healthy relationship, how are we supposed to recognize when we’re in one? I know you have trouble trusting people but please listen to me when I say Lucas was one of the good ones, and I know you will never forgive yourself if you don’t at least try to make things right with him before you lose him for good.”   ——————————————————————   Dev had been standing on Lucas’ step for the last ten minutes, pacing back and forth, she even tried to bolt back to her car once or twice. She was used to always being the one in control of every situation, she couldn’t allow anybody to hurt her that way. This time it was the opposite; she had no idea what the outcome of this conversation was going to look like or how he was going to respond. For all she knew, he would open the door and proceed to slam it directly in her face. She knew he didn’t deserve the way she treated him, always questioning him and never letting her guard down, when all he wanted to do was give her his entire heart. He didn’t deserve it and she knew that. He had begun to realize that too, it’s why he left. Her slender hand reached up to knock lightly on the door as she stood anxiously on that porch step, the cold bitter wind of the February air picking up slightly as it blew threw her hair. Within a few seconds, she could hear padded feet on the hardwood floor just on the other side of the door, followed by the click of the lock as it loosened, the door opening to his heartbroken face.    “I know I’m the last person you want to see, but please let me say what I have to say.” Devin spoke, waiting for that slam of the door. Instead, a sigh left the lips she missed as he gave a slow nod of his head, letting her know he was willing to listen. “I know I don’t deserve another chance with you. I’ve made more mistakes than I can even count, but I want you to know Lucas that if you can give me another chance to make it right, I will do whatever it takes.”    “Dev…..” His gaze fell to the floor, the crease in his forehead furrowing more as he processed what she was telling him. She stepped past the doorway, reaching out towards him as he grabbed her hand, stopping her. “Please, Lucas..” As she gazed up, a tear that had been caught in the corner of her eye fell to her cheek as she did her best to blink it back. “I’ll try…. I’ll really try. I promise. I don’t want to ever disappoint you or hurt you again. If you can give me another chance, I’ll try until I get it right.” His grip on her hand loosened, his bright blue eyes glancing up as she studied them for any signs of forgiveness. Instead, all she saw was the heartbreak deep inside his eyes and she knew.  “No, Dev. I’ve given you too many chances. I can’t do that to my heart again… I’m sorry. I need you to leave, I can’t do this anymore.” His lips moved into a tight line as he looked at her one last time for a brief moment, before turning and leaving Devin to stare at the door he had closed in front of her, her head falling as more tears came. 

Head Prat

02/20/2021 01:10 PM 

Bitter Truth

10 April 1998 “I don’t know . . . ” Percy’s voice quacked, his body pressed up against the wall of the office. He could feel the sweat race down his back, the pure fear that rose in billows of smoke from his gut and into his mind. He couldn’t think clearly, the pain that was still coursing through his body the only thing he could concentrate on. He repeated every curse in his mind, mouthed every jinx he'd been hit with. Still, he remained strong and standing, endured most of it through sheer stubbornness. It was the Cruciatus Curse that brought him to the ground, sent him curling into the corner with an inability to breathe beyond his own screams. They wanted information and for once it was information that he didn’t have. “Where did they go?” Wand pointed directly at his chest, Percy wiped the streaks from the corners of his eyes, stared up into the face of Nathaniel Avery, a face he had almost been comforted to see when he left the burrow earlier that morning. It was amazing what the body did against the will of the mind in moments of torture, how quickly pain brought all feeling back to him when for weeks he had felt nothing.  “I told you, I don’t -” The words were lost, consumed by the roar of agony that ripped from his throat. He could feel his body convulse even if it didn’t register through the pain; Percy could feel the burn in his muscles, the tearing of ligaments as he twisted and arced. The room went out of focus in the same jarring way it returned, white little stars that shot across the deep red that filled his vision. He could hear Nate sigh almost bored. It ended all at once, a strangled gasp for air that held a hint of copper in it. The cracks echoed into his core as Percy’s body relaxed as best it could, violent twitches that matched the horrific and dangerous pounding in his chest.  “He’s needed.” The voice. He knew that voice, and Percy tried to listen, to hear past the screaming that reverberated through his splitting skull."He has some things to answer for."  “Listen here, you little prick. You raise that wand to me again and I’ll obliviate you to the point you won’t even be able to feed yourself. Weasley is coming with me, and if you have an issue with it take it up with someone who gives a damn.” Large hands gripped the collar of his shirt and roughly he was hauled to his feet. Legs shook under his weight, pale face tinged green and the rough outline of Lukas Burnley sharpened. In a swift tug, Percy was propelled from the small office space he had been cornered in. Nothing was said, not even a look in his direction as Lukas steered him along the corridors, painful jabs in the back to make him walk faster. Each step a new discomfort was found, an ache that dully rose against the dying throbs of others, replenished his agony in waves. “What were they after?” The question was swift, left Lukas in a growl before either was fully in his office. There was a fear in his voice and comprehension dawned on Percy, that through Zoshia’s rampage he had managed to retain one of the family trees Percy had made them.  “I -” The cough racked his body, red blotches sprayed over his hand that started to tremble. He was going to die here, maybe not today but eventually. He could feel it, knew it in his soul. “The Order, they think I know their location.” Lukas nodded, the relief short-lived on his face as he took in every inch of Percy, eyes closed heavily. “Why are you still here, Percy? Why didn’t you get out?” He didn’t mean to scoff, the childish roll of the eyes that made his world spin angrily. “Where would I have gone? We can’t just walk out of here, in case you haven’t noticed.” The man's face morphed into a fatherly concern that created a longing in Percy’s chest for his own family, to have just a chance to fix things. "Why didn’t you go underground with your family?" Lukas stepped forward, his eyes heavy. “Tell me you didn't stay here because of Zosh.” Percy paused long enough for the gravity of what was just said to him to sink in. Long enough for his heart to plummet from his chest, an endless spiral through an ice bath, frozen and screaming, horrors compiling over the joy he should have been feeling that his family was alive. “Go with…?” He was looking for clarification, needed to hear that he misunderstood what he was just told. Where are they? A question Percy thought was meant for the order now made sense, became clear as day to him. They wanted to know where his family had gone, and Percy who had been staying at the burrow since he thought they were dead, was now seen in alliance with them.  Hands hit the table hard, Percy’s grip latched to it for support as his lungs stuttered in his chest, every ounce of pain amplified. They were alive. His dad and Bill had left the Ministry, took everyone underground. Everyone but him. “No. I - I spoke with my dad the day before they vanished. He wouldn’t of - they wouldn’t . . .” Words choked against the rise of emotions, the truth he knew both in his gut and heart, the bitter reality that they went without him. Even with everything his father knew was happening to him, the torture they were putting him through, they still left without as much as a word. No one looked back, tried to get in contact with him or force him to leave the Ministry behind, not that it would have been a fight. He had only just been speaking with his father about fixing things, mending the damage they had done, planned to speak to them about returning home. They left. They left him behind. They abandoned him to death eaters. Horror devoured him in a strangled gasp for air. It became harder to breathe every time he repeated it to himself, an unsettling sob that struggled to break free and came out in increments of sharp noises.  “Are you alright?” Lukas’s hands fell over his shoulders, forced Percy out of the ball he was folding into and to face him. He wanted to be sick, felt the pit of his stomach tighten and seize, eyes wide with anguish. Even if Percy lied, told Lukas he was fine the physical reaction to the news said otherwise, his own head shaking violently to the question despite the meager ‘yes’ that left him. His hand shook as it clamped over his mouth, stifled the scream that engulfed his chest in a wild flame.  “I’m sorry, I thought maybe you knew and decided to stay. Zoshia -” “I thought they were dead! I thought death eaters took them but…but they left me.” They hated him that much. Despised his very existence to the point they’d rather leave him to the death eaters than take him back, give him a chance to show he had changed. If they knew he was the one slipping information to Remus, would it have been different? Would it make them look at him differently, see that hurt had swayed him all those years ago and not greed and power? Or was he too far gone to them, so despicable that he was no longer seen as their son or brother? An awful noise broke the silence Lukas gave Percy, hot tears pooling under the rims of his glasses, the very tears he was certain he had dried up in mourning his family. Quietly, Lukas closed the door to the small space, breaking the open door rule and furthering it by locking and silencing the room. He kept his back turned to the young wizard suffering from an internal breakdown, ignored the spray of ink as the ink well hit the wall in anger. He allowed Percy the time to vent before he pulled himself back together. When he was certain it was over, the angry cries turned to exhausted sniffs, did Lukas turn back around. “Why don’t you go talk to Zosh?” His head tilted, a look that purely resembled his daughter’s. “I know you two are in a tiny row right now, but you don’t seem to have anyone else.” Shame piled on him, Percy’s chest caving in. He wanted to go to her, would have given anything just to see her. “A little row isn’t the word I’d use.” “It’s my fault though,” Lukas said, his shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug to Percy’s heavy eye roll. “She accused me of manipulating you.” Their eyes locked, Percy’s lips pressed in a firm line, an ache under his eyes as they narrowed against the puffy tender skin from his breakdown moments before. He didn’t say anything for a moment and then finally cleared his throat, speaking with a finality. “You didn’t manipulate me.” “I reached out to you for a very specific reason.” Lukas countered, his hands buried deep in his pockets. “Your annoying meticulous nature, even in breaking the law you aim for perfection.” Percy snorted, a ghost of a smile on his face.  “And because you care about Zoshia, and using her as leverage, yes I manipulated you into making that family tree.” He thought over the words for a moment, placed them alongside the other moments in his life where he had been clearly used and controlled for other reasons, selfish reasons. There was no comparison. Each instance he knew he was being twisted, his direction swayed but in making the family tree it was to his own accord. “Manipulation is a method of influencing a person or a situation unfairly. Unscrupulously. You are working off the basis that I wouldn’t have helped and you twisted my arm to get what you needed.” Percy’s chin lifted, his shoulders squared back. “I didn’t hesitate and still wouldn’t.” “Go talk to her, I know she misses your stupid face. Her words, not mine.” Percy’s mind wandered briefly, the back of his hand roughly drug under his eyes to remove any traces of his outburst. Anything, he would do anything, endure anything if it meant they kept their attention on him and not the Burnley’s; if he could keep switching the focus from them and to something else. Fixing the bridge he burned with her would have been a distraction, one that would put the focus on the Burnley’s and be their downfall.  “You and Zosh need to leave. I can’t keep pulling the focus from you, especially not with the way Zoshia is actively protesting Umbridge.” “Percy.” “She’s always wanted to go to Barcelona.” Percy looked at him, a silent plea to listen and get out while they still had the chance. “Please.” Lukas pondered the words for a moment, a look that held two meanings; only cowards ran, but that Percy was right. Wand out, he removed the silencing charm, the door opening enough to avoid trouble. “Rome, huh? Have you ever been?” “What? No.” Lukas’ head bobbed slightly. “I hear it’s lovely in the summer. You should go.” “Yes, let me add that to my to-do list,” Percy snapped. It took him a moment to put the words together with the pointed stare Lukas gave him before moving to the door, the shadow shrinking as someone drew closer to the room.  “I’m saying, as a good and close friend of my daughters, I’d be honored if you came, should you get the time off. Think of it as doing me a favor, you two can run around and geek out over history stuff and I’ll rest on a beach.” Lukas smiled as he backed for the door, a curt nod to the death eater that passed. “Just think about it.” It was an offer, a way out that Percy looked down at his feet in shame. It shouldn’t have been Zoshia’s dad making the offer, it should have been his own getting him out. “I’ll see about the time off, thank you.” Writer note: Percy still at the Ministry when his family went into hiding is something that always bothered me. It was the darkest period of time, one where I have zero doubts that Percy would have gone underground with his family had they asked him. His loyalty to the Ministry died with Scrim and for him to remain there makes no sense, but he shows up to the battle of Hogwarts after his family, meaning he wasn't with them. Yes, it gave for the 'powerful' reunion, and I use powerful loosely, but it also opened the door for questions of why Percy wasn't with them to begin with. The whole point of his leaving was because he refused to accept Voldemort was back. After it was his pride that kept him away, but had his family come to him to leave, seeing the threat around him, Percy would have gone with them.Ministry Falls Series; Part 5part 1 -> Before the fallPart 2 ->  Leading up to the CoupPart 3 ->  The CoupPart 4 ->  Flawed ProtectionPart 5 ->  Mending Family Ties  

Head Prat

02/19/2021 11:27 PM 

Second Task

24 February 1995 They sat frozen in a moment in time, a breath that sat lodged deep in his chest and blocked paths for air to replenish his mind. All pride and excitement dissipated, Percy's chest that had been puffed out in importance earlier now caved in as he started out with the rest of the crowd. It seemed ridiculous, making people sit for an hour in the freezing cold, but every set of eyes were trained on the lake, mild whispers of anticipation.Percy had thought nothing of it, assumed at first that Ron, like usual, simply didn’t want to see him and tactfully avoided him. It had been stupid to write to his little brother, fevered words scrawled over the parchment that he would be there for the next task and above all else, judging it. He didn’t blink at the lack of response from Ron, Ginny’s small reply of a simple congratulations enough to give him a minor boost of confidence. It wasn’t until he set foot back in the castle that he felt the sting, the bitter memory of Ron’s reaction to him at the Yule Ball in place of Crouch. Even Fred and George showed some acknowledgment of him, the annoying mockery of Weatherby, but it was better than just flat out ignoring him. The hour had passed, the excitement in Bagman's voice as he announced it to the packed stadium, vibrated louder when gasps were heard through the stadium, not just the crowd itself, but the heads that broke the surface of the Black Lake. The puzzle came together before Percy. The stitch in his chest expanded, eyes wide behind the glasses with fingers clenched hard against the arms of the chair. Bagman’s words came together in a sickening churn of his stomach, Cedric swimming alongside another, guiding the raven-haired girl to the docks. Something was taken, something that each champion cherished the most. Percy had assumed it was a belonging, some prized possession. Never in his wildest nightmares did he expect permission to be given for people to be taken.Dumbledore would never . . . “Two minutes after the hour and Cedric Diggory is first to return!” Ludo Bagman’s voice rang out, the cheers from Hogwarts deafening. “With fantastic use of the bubble-head charm!” In every moment that passed, Percy edged closer to the railing, his heart pounding at the base of his throat. It wouldn’t be Ron. Crouch would have told him. Surely, he would have mentioned in his letter telling Percy that he was to judge the next task that it involved his little brother; that Ron was somewhere at the bottom of the lake. Thoughts stalled as the surface rippled once more, not like before with people but in a jet of red that shot into the sky that sent the crowd into a hush. In a flicker of desperation to prove himself wrong, Percy forced his eyes from the lake and into the sea of faces, eyes narrowed as he tried to make out any distinguishing features, find the shock of red hair and freckles. It was madness. To place students in danger as champions was one thing, but to use their friends or lovers as pawns was another. “And,” Bagman’s voices rolled, drawing out the word as the dark figure from the lake shot up from the depths. Percy bit back the scream that curdled in his chest, the wild gasp for air from the young witch that bobbed in the water, a terrified look on her face. “Here’s Miss Delacour! Ah what a pity, what a shame! But wait . . .” Like everyone else, Percy's attention flitted from Delacour and the struggle to pull her from the water as she fought to dive back down, to Bagman as he stood in excitement. There was a roaring scream of delight and fear as the pointed noise of a creature rose from the water. “It’s Viktor Krum as a, yes! An incomplete transfiguration of a shark but highly impressive all the same!” All color drained from Percy’s face as he shot to his feet in alarm to the faint face of the girl beside Krum. The sight of Hermione shredded any doubts he had that Ron wasn’t at the bottom of the lake. Sparked a terror that pounded through his veins. Everything in the stadium was silent, uneasy glances between the judges and professors alike with each minute that passed. Of course, no one would be left at the bottom of the lake, Percy knew it, but facts did nothing to stop the panic from spreading like a wildfire in his chest as the clock ticked well past the allocated time. At what point did they call it and go collect the missing? There was a violent tremor in his hand, nails running his arm in nerves as Percy leaned dangerously over the edge, scouring the lake for any sign of the last heads to rise. “You need to call this,” he whispered to Bagman. “We need to get them.” “Give ‘em a few more minutes, laddy.” Lips pressed in a thin line, Percy turned dangerously on Bagman. It took everything in his power to not throw himself at the man and knock the smug look off his face. It was all a game to him, zero concern for anyone involved as long as he got his entertainment in the end. He didn’t fight Harry’s name being pulled from the Goblet. From what Percy had heard, Bagman practically foamed at the mouth in glee at the prospect that Harry Potter mysteriously outsmarted Dumbledore and the goblet. Shoulder’s squared back as the clock ticked away, Percy’s nose curled with a snarl of warning. “Ay! What do we have here,” Bagman roared. Percy spun instantly, clung to the railing in an attempt to spot what Bagman had seen. For a moment he thought it was a trick, a means to distract him but then he saw the three dark shadows rising in a swell of blackness. Elation and dread fought for control inside him. If it was Ron, as he suspected, there would be hell to pay. Crouch, who said nothing to him, gave him no warning to prepare himself with. Dumbledore for even permitting this and Bagman for just being his usual self. Screams tore through the stadium the moment Harry broke the surface, Ron beside him and a small girl on the other side, and Percy’s knees gave way slightly in his strangled gasp of relief. He didn't wait for the announcement, didn't care to hear what Bagman had to say. In one single breath, he was gone, tearing down through the small passages, all duties forgotten as he forced his way past healers ready and waiting with towels. Ice pierced his skin as water flooded his shoes, the Ministry cloak weighing him down against the tide that tried to force him back. None of it mattered in that moment, not the suit he had saved up months for or the Ministry cloak he guarded with his life. His focus was only on Ron as he waded out to them, panic-stricken and trembling as he hauled his brother into a tight embrace that was unlike him, one that almost sent them both toppling into the lake. “Gerroff, Percy, I’m all right!” Ron grumbled. His hands pulled and pried against Percy’s firm grip on the front of his cloak, stumbled as he was pulled forcefully from the lake. Bagman’s voice rang out, the deafening roar of the crowd muffled against the blood pounding in his ears as healers swarmed. Words were lost to him for once, relief on his grey face as he hovered annoyingly beside Ron as he was checked over, made sure everything was okay. It wasn’t until Ron turned from him that Percy stepped back, the stitch in his chest still there, became more painful at being purposefully ignored by his brother. Head low, he retreated back up to the top box alongside the others to finish his job. * * * “Mister Weasley, how nice of you to-” “What are you playing at?” He was barely a foot in the door, face pulled back in a snarl that matched a tone he rarely used. The moment he heard the details, the horrific reality of what they had done Percy stormed through the halls of Hogwarts, legs working in muscle memory to where he needed to go. The astonished look on everyone’s face grew, Dumbledore’s smile still warm and welcoming, but it wavered in response. If anyone had asked Percy if he ever believed he would barge into the Headmaster’s office, ready for a fight, he would have laughed it off as a wild fantasy. But he stood now, red faced in anger and ready. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” “You gave them enough drought to allocate for an extra fifteen minutes,” Percy snarled, his hands balled in fury, the rise of pink in his face prominent against his severely paled complexion. Anger exploded in him like firecrackers. “Weasley,” Bagman interjected, a chortle at what was a clear overreaction. “There was no real danger.” “They just made it in time!” His voice carried through the headmasters office, a rage that burned so bright in Percy he wasn’t able to bring it back under control as he rounded on Bagman. “Why in the hell did you not call it!” “Percy.” The softness in Dumbledore’s voice set Percy on edge, the frustration that it was all just a game. The horror still lingered in the back of his mind, Ron’s gasp for air as he broke the surface of the lake. Percy knew Ron wasn’t in any real danger, that leaving people down at the bottom of the Black Lake would incite an attack on the Ministry and Hogwarts itself not just from their own people but every person from Beaubaxtons and Drumstrang. It didn’t quell the horror, didn’t stifle the noise that left him the moment he saw Ron’s head bob up from the water. All he felt now was fury riddled deep within, an undiluted and unfiltered rage that was unknown to him. “You do not really believe anyone was in real danger, I wouldn’t -” “You’re all allowing Harry to compete, so excuse me if I am questioning your intelligence in all of this, never mind your intentions!” Percy’s exuded an animosity that was like acid, each word burning, slicing, potent. There was a moment of silence, eyes wide in shock apart from Dumbledore who stood with the smile on his face. “I understand you're in shock, but you must remember that this is part of the tournament. It was part of the task and your brother knew and agreed, knowing full well what the risks were.”  His face rose in different shades of red from the suppressed rage he tried to keep harbored deep within him. He couldn’t understand it, couldn’t place the face he was glaring at to the one that everyone looked up to, himself included.  “I don’t care that Ron agreed or that he is best friends with Harry. He will not be included again. Ron. Ginny. George. Fred. My family is off-limits in this twisted little game. If any of them are included again . . .” His eyes sought out Bagman at the threat as well and narrowed in disgust. “I will make it my personal mission at the Ministry to bring you to your knees.” Dumbledore’s face was closed off as he seemed to consider the promise of hell Percy would bring. “I can see Bartemius is rubbing off on you.”  It was a backhanded compliment, one that slid under Percy’s skin. Chin high, he refused to let it be known that the words along with Bagman’s snicker bothered him. In a swift turn he was back out the door, words muttered under his breath of what he planned to say to Crouch when he saw him next.   




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