Which Drawing App do you use? Do you have any tips for getting into digital art?
I use Fire Alpaca, and as for tips. Hmm, just explore the app you choose to use, everyone has different ways they like things. I would suggest to draw a picture on actual paper, take a picture of it and use that picture as a sorta base for the digitial art until you get more comfortable drawing on a tablet/laptop.
I’m seeing a bunch of posts that make me think most USAmericans don’t know about The No Surprises Act.
It was passed in 2021 (thank you Biden) and essentially states that if you don’t have insurance or your insurance doesn’t cover a service you need (or want) you are entitled to a Good Faith Estimate of the cost of care. (If your insurance does cover the service, you should be able to estimate the cost of care based on your deductible and co-pay.)
As a healthcare provider who does not accept any insurance, I am very careful to not violate The No Surprises Act. Why? Because for every penny more than $400 that the Good Faith Estimate was “off” (or if it wasn’t provided), you are entitled to a refund for that amount.
Y’all. Ask for a Good Faith Estimate. Get it in writing. Compare it to what you are paying. If you are not provided an estimate or if it’s wrong by more than $400, demand a refund.
I’m reforging this for the second time in five minutes because I needed to add that part of this is also about what your health insurance provider is required to do. They’re required to tell you what your out of pocket cost will be. If you contact them and they say actually they don’t know but your copay is X%, you can ask them to call the provider and get the codes they plan to use to bill for your services. If the provider is in network they’ll have negotiated rates in place so the insurer will know exactly how much you can be charged for that service and then they have to tell you. No surprise huge medical bills even if you are insured.
Adding onto this. If you have a surgical procedure that involves anesthesia, the No Surprises Act also accounts here. Most anesthesia companies/providers are OON (out of network) with most, if not all insurances. If your service is performed in an in-network facility, they are REQUIRED to bill as in-network due to this law.
time travel fanfic idea where Jason comes back to before he was adopted, him and Batman still meet and he still ends up being adopted by Bruce Wayne, but he just refuses to acknowledge Batman and Robin, he acts like a civilian boy, he has over thirteen extracurriculars that Bruce does his best to keep up with. He regularly works out and trains all the fighting he's learned over the years, he goes on a gap year before college to recuperate the all blades and pretends to be the civilian in a family of crime fighting vigilantes.
He's doing pre-med and keeps nagging his siblings to go to college too (Cass, Tim), Duke is the one who spends more time with him bc everyone else is nocturnal and sleep through the day, but Jason likes to drive Duke to his classes and pick him up so they can have lunch together, Damian had a hard time at first, because Jason speaks every language that he speaks and all bat related things have to stay at the cave, his league training didn't prepare him for a civilian brother.
During an attempted kidnapping during one of the Wayne galas, Jason's whole plan almost gets blow up because one of the guys has taken a woman hostage and his Red Hood fried brain just pounced on the dude with all his might, wrestled him for the gun and kept him stuck under his boot with the gun pointed between the guys brows.
He had to pretend to be scared when Batman came to the rescue and act like he didn't know how to handle a gun.
+ Alfred 100% thinks Jason was on a children gang and that's why he's so good with knives, guns and rifles, but who's he to say anything about people's past
For the writers struggling to rid themselves of the classic ‘said’. Some are repeated in different categories since they fit multiple ones (but those are counted once so it adds up to 100 new words).
Note: everyone is entitled to their own opinion. No I am NOT telling people to abandon said and use these. Yes I understand that said is often good enough, but sometimes you WANT to draw attention to how the character is speaking. If you think adding an action/movement to your dialogue is 'good enough' hate to break it to you but that ruins immersion much more than a casual 'mumbled'. And for the last time: this is just a resource list, CALM DOWN. Hope that covers all the annoyingly redundant replies :)
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“Girls want a Superman, but they walk past a Clark Kent every day”
You fuckin CLOWNS think you’re a CLARK KENT? Not on my fuckin watch. You dumb, headass motherfuckers are barely a Guy Gardner and you think you’re a CLARK KENT? The amount of disrespect is unreal.
Listen here, wannabes: My boi Clark is 240 lbs of PURE KANSAS BEEF trained from a young age by Ma Kent to Love and Respect women as the Intelligent, Independent beings they are. He is shy rambling about tractors and casually moving the copy machine when my pen falls behind it and he would NEVER demand I be sexually or romantically interested just because he’s nice.
WARNING: THE STORY AHEAD CONTAINS THE FOLLOWING
FORCED MARRIAGE
MURDER
DARK THEMES
READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
Description: Haven had thought she could finally rest, the war was over, she had beat the big bad. But then why was everyone trying to force her into a marriage she didn't want? When her best friends turn on her she decides she's had enough. They want a wedding, find they'll get they're wedding, but her husband won't live long enough to enjoy much of the marriage.
Haven Jamie Potter stared at herself in the mirror. She was currently wearing a beautiful wedding dress, and her hair was braided and pinned up in the back. Her makeup made her face glow, but none of it made up for the lack of a smile or emotion on the seventeen-year-old's face.
She didn't want to get married; she was being guilt-tripped from all sides.
After the war had ended, she thought she would finally get to live her life the way she wanted to. Mrs. Weasley had other ideas, though. The woman used her son's death as a tool to make Haven agree to marry her youngest son, Ron.
Haven had gone to Hermione for help, but the girl agreed that a wedding might be what was needed to bring joy to the entire wizarding world, not just Molly. She tried going to Professor McGonagall, but she agreed with Hermione; the only ones sticking up for her were George and Luna. Neville was still in the hospital healing from the war.
Eventually, after the news got out about the possible wedding, Haven was forced to agree to marry Ron. She went to the bank the day she agreed and had them draw up a magical contract for her future husband to sign.
The contract said that he couldn't touch any of Haven's money or properties without her permission; it also said that he could not lay his hands on her unless it was in self-defense.
Haven knew that Ron was going along with this for her money; she had a feeling that Molly was trying to get her hands on Haven's money through her son. Well, Haven would gleefully watch as their faces fell the second they realized what Ron had signed.
She still couldn't believe he had signed the contract without reading it. She knew Ron didn't like to read, but who doesn't go over a magical contract before signing it? Whatever— it worked in her favor.
Haven turned to the door when it started to open, the old thing giving a loud creak as the hinges worked. She would have to see about getting those oiled or putting a silencing charm on them.
"Oh, Haven, you look beautiful!" Hermione said as she rushed into the room. Haven just smiled at the girl, inwardly hiding her dislike of the bushy-haired girl.
Haven considered her friendship with Hermione over; the girl had agreed with the idea of this wedding. Hermione knew good and well that Haven didn't like Ron romantically; hell, she barely tolerated the guy as a friend.
Haven hid her hands in the fabric of her dress to hide the fact that she was clenching them. She could feel her nails dig into her palms as she pretended everything was all right.
"Thanks, Hermione. You think Ron's down there already?" she asked, hoping her hatred for Ron didn't leak into her voice.
Hermione laughed. "Yeah, he's down there. He's excited to get married to the woman he loves."
Haven laughed softly. Loved? Ron didn't love her; he loved her money—something he would never lay hands on, thanks to the contract.
Haven held back a sigh as she turned to face the door; her dress was very constricting around her chest and waist. She was glad it wasn't the dress everyone wanted her to wear. Everyone had wanted her to wear Mrs. Weasley's old wedding dress, but she had put her foot down. If she was being forced to marry someone, she was going to have the dress that she wanted.
She had fought for the decorations, flowers, music, and food that she wanted. She refused to let Mrs. Weasley plan the entire thing, and she had told the woman as much.
Haven's lips twitched into a smirk as she remembered the way the woman's face turned beet red when Haven refused to back down and told her, point-blank, that if she didn't get to have the wedding she wanted, there would be no wedding.
The second she said that, everyone agreed that it was Haven's wedding; she should get to have the wedding of her dreams.
Haven watched as her bridesmaids walked down the aisle first. Luna was her maid of honor, something that Hermione was clearly upset about, judging by the glares she kept shooting the younger girl. Haven didn't care; Hermione had wanted this wedding from the start, and Luna had tried to fight for Haven to be forced into this marriage.
Closing her eyes, she tried to steady herself; the scent of the flowers outside was overwhelming. All too soon, it was her turn to walk down the aisle; she would be walking down by herself. She had refused to allow Mr. Weasley, nor anyone else, to walk her down.
She kept a fake smile on her face as she walked out of the Burrow. She was holding a bouquet made out of purple orchids, freesia, lily of the valley, and a little bit of ivy.
On the tables were vases with hyacinths and white roses in them.
If people knew flower language, the bouquet wouldn't stand out much, but Haven had made sure to look up the Victorian flower language while picking out the flowers for the wedding.
The flowers each had their own secret meanings.
Freesias normally meant friendship, but a white freesia, from what Haven read, could be seen as a secret betrayal and represents broken bonds. Orchids represent exoticness and elegance, and they also symbolize strength and luxury. It was a small reminder to herself that even if she was going through with this sham of a wedding, she was still independent and in control.
The lily of the valley, if anyone asked, she could say the lilies were to represent her mother. Under the surface, however, it was meant to show that she saw this wedding as a betrayal. Lilies of the valley normally symbolize a return to happiness, but in the Victorian flower language, they could also symbolize betrayal.
She had the ivy twisting around the stems of the flowers, keeping them tangled together. Ivy normally represented fidelity—perfect for a wedding—but if ivy was twisted, it could hint at a person being trapped. Haven considered this wedding a trap, even if no one else but a few saw it the same.
Even the flowers on the tables symbolized how much Haven disliked this entire wedding.
Purple hyacinths symbolized sorrow, jealousy, and resentment. Haven was putting it out there, clearly, that she resented this wedding, and going through with it was going to fill her with sorrow.
White roses framed the purple hyacinths. White roses could represent purity and new beginnings, but they could also hint at betrayal and false happiness.
Once more, the ivy in the vases was twisted around the flowers.
Haven stood at the back of the aisle as everyone turned to look at her. She could see a few people glancing at the vases and her bouquet in confusion; she could even see some concern on some people's faces.
She kept a soft smile on her face as she walked down the aisle, her hands gripping the bouquet tightly the entire way. She felt like she was walking right into her very own prison; she had to keep reminding herself that she had a plan. This wasn't the end of her world.
She wasn't going to lie—the look of lust in Ron's eyes gave her the chills. She knew what happened during a person's wedding night; she would just have to deal with it and make sure she got revenge in the future.
Haven didn't pay much attention to the vows until it was time for her to speak up. She spent more time watching Ron, his family, and the crowd discreetly.
Mrs. Weasley was crying into a tissue with her husband trying to comfort her. Bill and Fleur were next to them, and she could see that Bill was beaming, but Fleur was frowning. The half-veela's eyes kept glancing from the flowers in Haven's hands—her empty eyes—to Ron. It was clear that Fleur realized something was up, but she couldn't do anything since she wasn't sure what was wrong.
Charlie was next to them; he looked uncomfortable in the formal robes he was wearing. Haven figured that made sense; he was used to rougher clothes, suited for handling big, dangerous animals instead of formal wedding attire.
Percy was next in the row. He was sitting straight up and looked right at home in the formal robes. He did look a bit confused as he glanced at the flowers decorating the Burrow's backyard. Apparently, he knew Victorian flower language, unlike the rest of his family.
George was next to Percy; he was frowning during the entire wedding. Most people would put it down to him having lost his twin brother not long ago, but Haven knew better. He was upset that the girl he saw as a sister was being forced into this sham of a wedding.
Next to George was an empty seat. Haven insisted that it stay empty to represent Fred. Despite the anger she felt at the older Weasleys, she still wanted to have a small bit of Fred at her wedding, even if it was an empty chair.
Ginny was one of Haven's bridesmaids, so she was standing up at the altar with Hermione, Luna, and Haven. Ron's best men were Dean, Seamus, and Neville. He wasn't close with them, but he asked them to be his best men because he thought having his brothers up there would be embarrassing.
After the wedding, things passed in a blur. Haven had to pretend she was happy with married life while, on the inside, she was screaming curses at the ones who caused this.
A few weeks had passed since the wedding, and Haven was dealing with married life the best she could. She couldn't put her plan into action right away; she had to wait for the right time. She felt awful that she had to consummate the marriage for it to be legal, but if she wanted to avoid suspicion falling on her later, she needed to go along with it.
It was only recently that she had overheard Molly questioning Ron; she felt anger fill her when she overheard Molly ask if he had been slipping fertility potions to her as planned. Haven should have expected this, but she hadn't; she couldn't help but feel like an idiot for not checking her food and drinks for potions.
The Weasley family was naturally fertile, so if Ron had been taking the potion as well, then it was probably a given that Haven was pregnant, considering the two had had sex a few times since the wedding. Each time, Haven spent an hour under a hot shower—something Ron didn't pay attention to.
She backed away from the room containing her mother-in-law and husband. Later that night, Ron mentioned wanting to buy a new broom, so when they went back to school, he would be ready for Quidditch. Haven just said he would have to buy it with his own money; she wouldn't buy it for him.
"What do you mean, your money is my money?" Ron argued.
"Ron, didn't you read the contract you signed before we got married? It said you couldn't touch a knut of my money, any of my properties, and you can't use spells or lay a hand on me to force me to give you any money."
Ron's face turned red, indicating his anger. "Why would you have me sign something like that? Don't you trust me?"
"It's not about trust, Ron. According to the goblins, everyone who marries into the Potter family has to sign this contract. My mom had to sign it when she married my dad, my grandma signed it when marrying my grandpa, and so on for the last century."
"I can't believe you would make me sign that!" Ron screamed, his hand twitched, and Haven knew he wanted to curse her.
"I can't believe you didn't read it! If you had, we could have worked together to change some of the wording, but since you signed it, I thought you had read it and were okay with everything in it." Here, Haven slumped, giving the impression she was upset and defeated.
"I didn't think for even a second that you hadn't read it. If I did, I would have said something, I swear."
Ron saw the way Haven was slumped and felt relieved that she hadn't meant to do this on purpose. He supposed he should have read the contract, but he thought if there was anything important, Haven would have told him about it.
He had no idea that Haven was well aware he hadn't read a word of the contract. He also didn't know that she was lying through her teeth about everyone who marries into the Potter family needing to sign the same contract.
"Fine, I'll just use my old broom until we can figure something out. I'm going to go for a fly," Ron spoke, grabbing his old broom from his trunk before he started leaving the room.
Haven realized this was her chance. She waited until Ron was gone before slipping her invisibility cloak over herself and sneaking out to the back, where Ron was flying. She then snuck a spare wand she had found in the attic out of her pocket, aimed it at Ron, and cast two spells.
The first spell was to cause Ron to try some dangerous Quidditch stunts; the second spell was to cause the broom to break once he was at a height that, if he fell from, would kill him.
Before she left, she cast another spell to keep the others from noticing him flying so high, then she burned the spare wand and snuck back up to the room she had been sharing with Ron.
Now all she had to do was wait. She was curled up on the bed, wrapped in the covers, while reading a Muggle school book. She was trying to finish her Muggle education; she was done with the magical world.
The magical world was outdated, and sure, the Muggle world wasn't perfect, but it was still better than the world that forced her into this sham of a marriage. Soon, she heard the sound of something slamming into the ground, then there were screams.
To keep up appearances, she jumped up, forcing a panicked and worried look on her face, while inside she was dancing with glee. She grabbed her wand and ran downstairs, stumbling and almost falling if it hadn't been for Hermione grabbing her arm.
She gave Hermione a nod, and the two continued running towards where the screaming was coming from.
The two girls burst out the back door and saw Mrs. Weasley screaming on the ground, holding Ron's lifeless body. Hermione screamed in horror, covering her mouth, while Haven hid a smile and plastered on a look of horror and devastation on her face.
She stumbled over and fell on her knees next to her now ex-mother-in-law. Haven reached a trembling hand out towards Ron's face.
"R-Ron, sweetie, wake up! This isn't funny!" She made her voice waver, acting like people would expect a horrified wife to be if she saw her husband's dead body.
George ran up and gathered Haven into his arms, hiding Ron's body from her sight. Haven forced herself to start crying, sobbing into George's arms. While everyone would think her tears were of grief, she knew that they were tears of relief. She didn't have to put up with Ronald anymore; she didn't have to go through the motions.
Not to mention, no one could suspect her. She had been playing the role of the perfect wife without hesitation. Ron and she had disagreements, but every couple had those, so it wasn't suspicious.
The next few hours were a blur. Haven had to keep acting like a shocked, grieving widow while, on the inside, she was dancing with glee and screaming for joy. Hermione stayed near Haven at all times; if Haven hadn't already decided to find a way to stop their friendship, and if she hadn't been the one to "kill" Ron, she would have been thankful.
Haven explained to the Aurors that she had been in her and Ron's room reading when she heard something fall, and then Mrs. Weasley started screaming. She said that Hermione could vouch for her because she had to catch Haven when she almost fell down the stairs after she slipped.
Molly started screaming at Haven, blaming her for two of her sons' deaths. She didn't care that the Aurors said that the broom had broken on its own. According to them, the broom was too old and badly maintained, and the way Ron had been flying before he fell, it was just a matter of time before it broke.
Haven ran upstairs to the room she used to share with Ron, faking sobs the entire way. The second the door to the room closed, she broke out into a wide grin.
Her plan had worked; she was finally free of that red-headed bastard, and on the plus side, Molly now believed Haven was cursed and would be less likely to try to convince her to marry a different Weasley child—at least for the moment.
She started packing the few things she had lying around the room into her trunk. She had to resist the urge to hum as she packed; if anyone came up and heard her humming happily, that would be a big red flag.
She turned when she heard a knock on the bedroom door, the smile wiped off her face, replaced with a look of grief as she croaked out for whoever it was to come in.
Fleur walked in, looking concerned. "Haven, how are you holding up?"
Haven gave a watery smile toward Fleur. "My husband just died, and his mom is accusing me of causing his death somehow."
Fleur winced. "Perhaps that was a stupid question. I have another question that might seem a bit strange."
Haven tilted her head, acting confused. "Just ask what you want, Fleur. I need to finish packing since Mrs. Weasley clearly doesn't want me here any longer."
"Do you know what the flowers used for your wedding meant?" Fleur blurted out after a few seconds of silence.
Haven silently cursed in her mind while plastering a bewildered look on her face. "Fleur, what are you talking about? I chose them because I liked the look of them together, though the Lily of the Valley was chosen in honor of my mom—Listen, is now really a good time to bring up my wedding?" Here she made herself tear up. "My husband just died, and you're wanting to talk about the flowers at my wedding to him?"
Fleur frantically rushed to comfort Haven, apologizing for bringing the wedding up. Haven inwardly chuckled, glad she seemed to handle that perfectly. Now Fleur wouldn't suspect anything was wrong, hopefully.
Haven made herself cry in Fleur's arms for the next ten minutes before she seemed to gather herself and continue packing.
"Where are you going to go?" Fleur asked, her concern evident.
"I have a few properties. I was going to talk to—to Ron about possibly moving into one soon." Here she took a moment to gather herself before she continued, "I'm sure I can stay in one of them; one of them has to be ready to be lived in."
"Perhaps you could stay with me and Bill for a while?" Fleur offered, but Haven shook her head.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I want to be around any Weasleys right now. The red hair will just remind me of him." Haven made sure her face reflected sadness, acting like she was holding back tears again.
"If you're sure, Haven. If you need anything, I'm only a floo or an owl away." Fleur reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing before letting go.
"I know, thank you," Haven whispered and continued packing her things. Soon, Haven left the Burrow and entered Potter Manor. She spent some time exploring the place that would be her new home. The floors were made of some kind of wood, and the walls were made of light-colored stones.
She made her way to the master bedroom and jumped on the bed, staring at the wall with a wide grin. Her plan worked, and no one suspected a thing—except for Mrs. Weasley. People would put her blaming Haven down to grief, which was probably exactly what it was. The woman had no way of knowing that Haven was behind Ron's death. She could live her life as she wanted from now on.
~Time Skip~
Two months had passed since Haven killed Ron and made it look like an accident. Since then, she had it confirmed that she was indeed pregnant. Even though Haven hadn't wanted the baby, especially not with the man she got pregnant by, she couldn't help but already love her child.
The news that she was pregnant leaked to the press, and pretty soon, the entire wizarding world knew that Haven Potter, the girl-who-lived, was going to have a child. People walked up to her in the middle of the street to offer their condolences for her loss of her husband, and they also offered congratulations on her upcoming baby.
Haven acted exactly how people expected her to act. She pretended to be both heartbroken and hopeful—heartbroken over the loss of her best friend-turned-husband, and hopeful that she would soon have a baby to take care of.
Mrs. Weasley tried to say that Haven would be an unfit mother, telling people the baby should be given to her since she was the grandmother. People put it down to grief but still side-eyed her whenever she said something on the topic. It was getting to the point that people were concerned it wasn't just the grief talking.
Haven wondered if she would have to deal with Mrs. Weasley as well. She had been aware of the plan to get Haven pregnant. The woman was also the one who guilted Haven into getting married in the first place.
If Molly tried anything, Haven would retaliate, but until then, she would wait.
Late at night, Haven would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, and wonder if she was turning dark. She didn't feel anything for her ex-best friends; she didn't feel guilt for killing Ron, nor did she feel bad for cutting off her friendship with Hermione.
Hermione had tried to order Haven to go back to Hogwarts to finish school, to give the baby to Mrs. Weasley to raise while she was away. While Haven had been trying to figure out a way to break off her friendship with the other girl, she couldn't believe Hermione would tell her that. Hermione knew how much having a family mattered to her; she knew that Haven wouldn't be satisfied or happy to be away from her child for most of the year.
People took Haven's side when they heard what Hermione had told her. The public criticized the girl for being so insensitive. The point that Haven was trying to make, though, was whether she was turning dark. She was planning to kill Molly if she tried anything against her—for Merlin's sake! That felt dark to Haven.
But then again, she was giving the woman one more chance and had decided to only kill her if she harmed Haven or her child. She had only killed Ron because he wanted to use her for anything he could think of. She didn't know if this made her dark or not; she didn't feel like she was going to go on a killing spree.
Did dark equal evil? That's another question that had been nagging at her late at night. Remus had been a werewolf, a dark creature, but he wasn't evil. He was one of the kindest men she had ever known. So if being a dark creature didn't mean someone was evil, then it wouldn't make her evil if she were a dark witch, would it?
"Whatever, what does it matter as long as I don't go on a killing spree?" Haven thought as she closed her eyes, one of her hands going to the small, barely-there bump she had.
Despite only being two, almost three months along, she already had a small bump. It wasn't very noticeable, but thanks to her being smaller than average, the healer said that it was normal and nothing to worry about.
She couldn't help but wonder what gender her little ball of sunshine was. Was she going to have a little boy or a little girl? Would they have her black hair or her mom's red hair? She refused to consider the red hair from Ronald; if her child had red hair, then it would have come from her own mom in her mind.
She hoped the baby had her green eyes, just maybe not her eyesight. If she could spare her child the cursed Potter hair and eyesight, then she would.
Months passed by in a blur, and the healer was worried about how light she was. He told her to take it easy and try to put on some more weight. Haven had Kreacher make her food since she wasn't supposed to stand for too long. She managed to put on some weight, but not much.
During this time, she put together a nursery for her child. She was leaving the gender as a surprise, so she made it ocean-themed. There were painted fish swimming on the wall; thanks to magic, they were able to move.
Kreacher was excited to serve a new Heir Black; he had taken a total three-sixty in behavior after she destroyed the locket. He was a godsend these last few months when the healer ordered her to stay in bed, other than a few minutes of exercise a day.
Since she had nothing better to do, she started looking for baby names. She wanted a name that would honor her parents and godfather without directly naming the child after them. She knew some people would say she should name the child after Ron if it's a boy, but she would never do that, considering how much she hated him at the end.
It took some doing, but soon she came up with two perfect names—one for a girl and one for a boy—since she wanted to leave the gender a surprise. Not to mention, the healer had been having trouble getting a good reading on the baby, something about her own magic wrapping around the womb so tightly and protectively that it was hard for another person's magic to get through.
She would name her baby Orian Jamie Potter. Orian after her godfather and his family's traditions of naming children after stars, and Jamie after her dad.
If the baby were a girl, her name would be Selene Iris Potter, Selene after the moon and Iris after her mom. She was using the last name Potter instead of Weasley because she legally changed her name back to her maiden name after Ron's death.
Kreacher popped into the room, looking nervous. "Ma'am, there are Aurors here to see you."
Haven's eyes widened in surprise. Aurors? Why would Aurors want to see her, especially so close to her due date?
"Send them in, Kreacher. Oh! Can you bring me a cup of tea with a lemon slice?"
Kreacher nodded and popped away. It wasn't long before he returned with the Aurors and her tea. He handed it to her before popping away.
"Hello, I would have come down to welcome you, but as you can see, I'm currently stuck on bedrest until I give birth," Haven said to the Aurors, being polite.
The first Auror spoke, "It's okay, Lady Potter. It's for the best you're sitting down."
Haven frowned in confusion, silently setting her tea down on her end table. "Is everything alright?"
"We've gotten word that Mrs. Molly Weasley is planning to kidnap your child after you've given birth," the second Auror said bluntly, yet not unkindly.
Haven gasped and gripped her stomach protectively. "She was planning to what? Please tell me you arrested her!"
"I'm sorry, Lady Potter. She managed to get away before we could move in."
"We have the Aurors on high alert, ma'am. The second she shows up, we'll get her."
Haven couldn't breathe. Molly wanted to kidnap her child? She knew the woman wasn't all there mentally, that she kept trying to get others to support her in getting custody of Haven's unborn baby, but she never once thought the woman would resort to trying to kidnap her own grandchild!
She froze when she felt something break, and something wet started forming under her on the bed.
"My water just broke," she whispered in shock.
The two Aurors froze, eyes going wide.
"What?"
"I said my water just broke! KREACHER, GET THE HEALER! IT'S TIME!" Haven screamed the last part, and she was terrified. She still had a month to go; her baby was going to be early. The stress of hearing what Molly was planning to do must have been too much for her already weak body to handle at this moment.
The first Auror rushed forward and helped Haven lie back in the bed, summoning pillows to help support her back. It didn't take long before Kreacher popped in with the healer, who rushed into action.
The first Auror stayed while the second went to report in. Haven didn't know why one was staying, but she was just glad she wasn't alone. The Auror let her hold his hand through the contractions.
She was terrified. What if it was too early? What if she lost her baby? She wouldn't be able to continue if she lost them. Haven hadn't even met them yet, and already she loved her child with her entire heart; she didn't care who the baby's dad was. She would go through it all again if it meant she would have her child at the end of it.
"So, are you excited to be a mom?" the Auror asked, wincing when Haven gripped his hand tight.
"I-I am, yeah. Um, what's your name?" Haven said after the contraction was done.
"Oh, I'm Josh Griffin, Muggle-born. Pleasure to meet you." Josh said with a charming smile.
Haven chuckled. "Nice to meet you too, Josh. Kinda wish our first meeting didn't happen like this though—Oh, fucking hell!" She cried out at another contraction before screaming.
"RONALD WEASLEY, IF YOU WEREN'T ALREADY DEAD, I WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU MYSELF!" She screamed to the ceiling, glaring at it as if she could glare at the man who put this baby in her. She didn't care that she had already killed him; if she could, she would kill him a second time for putting her through this pain.
The next few hours passed by in a blur of contractions before, finally, there was a wail of a baby echoing off the walls.
Haven slumped back against the pillows, sweat dripping down her face. "What is it?" she managed to croak out.
The healer turned to her and smiled. "It's a boy!"
Haven stared at the bundle in the healer's hands in awe, feeling her heart fill up with love for this tiny thing. "Welcome to the world, Orian Jamie Potter—OH, FUCK!" She cut herself off with a cry of pain, back arching at another contraction.
The healer quickly gave Josh and Orian before rushing back to Haven.
"There's another baby!" he exclaimed in shock. Haven stared at the healer with wide eyes.
"I'm having twins?!" she screamed before groaning at the pain.
It took fifteen minutes before the second baby was out.
"You'd better check to make sure there's not a third baby in there," Haven groaned, feeling sore all over. Her words got the healer and Josh to chuckle. Just to be safe, the healer did double-check before he healed Haven from the damage giving birth caused.
She sighed in relief. "I love magic."
With the help of Josh, Haven was able to slowly sit up in the bed. "What's the second baby's gender?" she asked as she was handed Orian.
"You have a beautiful baby girl," the healer answered, laying the baby in Haven's free arm.
She stared down at the two bundles in her arms; she couldn't express the love she felt for her children at that moment. Nor could she even begin to describe how happy she was.
"It's nice to meet you, Serene Iris Potter," Haven whispered, laying a kiss on her daughter's forehead before kissing her son's forehead as well.
Sure, there was still Molly to take care of. The woman couldn't be allowed to live if there was a chance she would take Orian and Serene from her, so she needed to go.
For now, though, Haven was just going to hold her babies and make sure they knew they were loved.
So I found a base on interest, couldn't find it anywhere else so it might just be from pinterest. I used it to draw this though! Here's a link to the original base
This is Eliza Potter from the one shot I posted not long ago, I couldn't really add the diamond on her back but there's the white streeks in her hair, the glowing eyes, and the small diamond pupil in her eyes.
This story is for @riftdaemon and it's lightly based on their AU. I put my own spin on it, Rift let me know what you think!
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Eliza didn't know why she was sneaking down to the Chamber of Secrets; perhaps she wanted to get a better look at the snake that had almost killed her a few days ago. All she knew was that something down there was calling to her; it felt like a small tug on her magic.
She was concerned that this could be dangerous, but her instincts were screaming at her to trust the tug. So that's why she was here, sneaking into the chamber after curfew, knowing she would be in trouble if she were to get caught. Thanks to her invisibility cloak, the chances of that happening were pretty slim, unless she ran into Dumbledore—for some reason, he was able to see through the cloak.
Reaching the entrance, she told it to open, then she paused in thought before she jumped down the chute. Salazar Slytherin wouldn't slide down to his chamber; everything she knew about the guy said he would find that insulting and demeaning, so she decided to ask for stairs. Eliza grinned when it worked. She walked down a bit before turning to the entrance and telling it to close.
She continued down, using her wand to make a light for her to see as she went further down. Reaching the bottom, she grimaced when she stepped on the tiny bones of what looked like a rat. Eliza would have to clean up down here if she decided to spend any decent amount of time in this place.
The air was dank, dusty, musty, and smelled of something she couldn't put her finger on. There was a cold breeze coming from somewhere that had her shiver and wrap her invisibility cloak closer to her—not to hide her, but to keep her warm.
Gathering herself, Eliza started walking, trying to ignore the small crunches of bones under her feet as she continued down the tunnel that she knew would take her to the Chamber of Secrets. Soon enough, she reached the area that had had the cave-in.
She stared at it; the tug on her magic was urging her to go forward, her magic itself seemed excited, but she didn't know if she could continue with all the rocks in the way. One wrong slip and she would be buried under the rocks with no way out, no one knowing where she was.
Eliza chewed on her lip, a bad habit she really needed to break. She had an idea, and she hoped it worked.
"Dobby, can you hear me? I need your help!" she cried out, taking the hood of her cloak off.
There was a sudden pop next to her, and she saw Dobby appear, looking star-struck. "Misses Potter needs Dobby? How can Dobby be helpings you, misses Potter?"
"Hey Dobby, something's tugging on my magic from the Chamber of Secrets, but I can't go see what it is 'cause this cave-in is in my way. I was wondering if there was any chance you knew how to fix it?"
Dobby nodded so fast she thought he would take to the air with the way his ears were flapping. "Dobby knows! Dobby can be fixing roof so Misses Eliza Potter can go check her magics."
With a few snaps from the house-elf, the cave-in was fixed, and there was a wooden beam holding the area up to prevent any future cave-ins.
Eliza beamed at Dobby. "Thanks, Dobby, you did fantastic!" She rushed down the hall, hearing the elf start crying and praising her for her thanks. She would never get used to house-elves.
She continued until she reached the entrance and hissed for it to open. Stepping into the chamber was weird; the last time she was here, she didn't have a chance to look around. Things had been hectic, but this time she was able to explore. She was a bit distracted by the huge snake in the middle of the room, though, and she was also distracted by the tugging on her magic.
She followed it to a wall. At first, she was confused before she realized it must be another secret room. After telling the wall, in Parseltongue, to open, she watched as the wall slowly slid up into the ceiling. A plume of dust poured out of the room, and she coughed, waving her hand in front of her face to try to help.
Soon the dust stopped pouring out of the room, and Eliza knew that she would have to take a shower later for sure, preferably before someone saw her and asked why she was covered in dust.
The tug was getting harder to ignore now. It led her into the room, and she was hardly able to look around. All she was able to make out through her search for the thing tugging at her was that she was in a study or bedroom of some kind. In the corner, there was a chest, and the tugging was coming from inside, so she opened it.
Inside the chest was a strange gem she had never seen before. It was cut into the shape of a diamond, but diamonds don't glow radioactive neon green, do they? Eliza reached out to touch it as if in a trance.
The second she touched it, she felt her magic flare up and then pain. She screamed as she felt as if her veins were both too hot and too cold; her very nerves felt as if they were on fire. She didn't notice the diamond compress into a small green light and fly into her, merging with her magic. All she knew was that suddenly her upper back felt like it was tearing apart.
She felt something wet slide down her back and realized that something was tearing her back apart; she was bleeding. Eliza couldn't do anything; her throat was being torn apart with her screams of pain. This felt worse than any beating Vernon had ever given her; it felt worse than when Voldemort flew through her at the end of her first year; it hurt worse than when she almost died of basilisk venom just days beforehand.
It was a surprise that Eliza was still conscious; it was a testament to her pain tolerance that she hadn't passed out within moments of the pain starting. Soon enough, though, she fell to the ground, the pain becoming too much for her as she slumped into a heap on the rough, dirty floor.
She stayed on the floor of the hidden room for hours before she woke up. A groan was the cue that she was starting to regain consciousness. Eliza woke up, and her entire body felt sore and tender. When she went to push herself up, she felt something in the middle of her shoulder blades on the upper part of her back. She ignored it for now; she was more focused on trying to push herself up when her arms felt like jelly.
It took some time, but eventually, Eliza was holding onto the wall for support. Her legs felt like silly putty, and she didn't trust herself not to fall onto the floor again. She took this time to look around the room, to see what she could from the wall she was holding onto.
There was an old-looking bed in one of the corners with an end table on the side and a trunk at the foot of it. The rest of the room was filled with bookshelves stuffed full of books; there was a desk wedged between two of them. She used the wall and then the bookshelves for support as she slowly made her way over to the desk, which had a chair she could sit in.
Soon she was sitting in an uncomfortable chair that was probably over a thousand years old. Eliza started looking at the stuff on the desk. There was a leather-bound book in the middle of the desk, and her breath caught when she saw that there was an imprint of a diamond on the cover. She would take this with her when she left.
Lifting her head, she froze when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her scar was gone; it wasn't faded or hidden behind her hair—it was just gone. That wasn't even the most surprising thing, though; her hair had white streaks in it, and her eyes seemed greener and let off a soft glow.
"What in Merlin's name?" Eliza muttered, leaning in closer to the mirror, her eyes widening in shock. How was she going to explain this to people? Eliza knew stress could turn people's hair white, but she had pure black hair just hours before.
It must have been caused by whatever that diamond had done to her. Her eyes narrowed, and she gritted her teeth, noticing her eyes glowed more with her frustration. That was great—she had mood-telling eyes.
She gripped the desk and slowly stood up, and turned just enough so she could see her back. Her robes and shirt were in the way, so she quickly took them off before looking again.
She gasped at what she saw.
"Why is there a diamond growing out of my back!" Eliza exclaimed, alarmed.
The diamond from the chest was now fused into her upper back. How was she going to explain this? The hair, she could probably say she wanted to try a new look; the eyes she could maybe pass off as her magic being more reactive since the basilisk—but the giant Merlin-damned diamond growing out of her back was something she couldn't explain!
While freaking out about the diamond, something happened that caused more panic. Her hand started to tingle, causing her to look down right as it turned transparent like the Hogwarts ghosts, and she fell through the desk and back onto the floor before she could register what had just happened. Eliza stared at her hand in horror, her eyes glowing with her fear as her hand flickered back to normal.
What was wrong with her?
Her eyes landed on the book she had glanced at earlier. Eyes widening, she launched herself at it. The only thought running through her head was that this book might have the answers to her questions.
She grabbed the book and leaned back against the desk, not bothering to sit on the chair again, as she started to read.
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Dear Journal,
My experiments with this peculiar diamond have once more come to naught. I can perceive the power this gem holds, yet alas, I am unable to harness it for myself. Were I to command such power, I could discern from the diamond how best to preserve the lives of our students in these perilous times. I cannot comprehend why the other three insist upon sending our pupils to their families for months on end; surely they recognize that our students are at grave risk of discovery by the muggles who dwell about us.
Each time the students depart, we lose more of them to these accursed witch burnings. The others affect concern, yet if they truly cared, they would not so recklessly send our wards to such fates. I have constructed a small island, which I shall enlarge in due course; it shall serve as a refuge for my students. I care not for the objections of the others, for unlike them, I shall safeguard those who place their trust in me.
I hear that insufferable Godric calling for me; I shall attend to him in due time.
Salazar Slytherin
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Dear Journal,
I have been examining the Diamond once more. I cannot help myself—the gem fascinates me. All that power contained within so small a thing; truly, it is a marvel. Once I ceased attempting to claim its power for myself, even though such might have ensured the safety of my pupils, I began to receive flashes of images. I believe the gem is attempting to communicate with me. Though it may sound preposterous, perhaps with magic, anything is possible.
These visions reveal how to create curious creatures known as “Gems.” The matter is most strange, and I confess I do not fully comprehend it, yet I have recorded what I could. Likewise, I have glimpsed other beings—ghosts, though unlike any with which we magical folk are acquainted. I would dearly wish to study them; in the visions, these beings appear solid, yet they possess the power to render themselves transparent at will.
These “ghosts” seem to command abilities surpassing mere passage through solid matter; they may render themselves invisible, lift and manipulate objects with but a thought, and even project peculiar energy from hands and feet. I am persuaded that this is no magic known to us, yet what it is remains beyond my ken.
I have laboured to enlarge the island; already, a small child and her mother reside there. I came upon them just as the woman’s husband sought to strike the child’s head—having discovered her magical nature, he would have killed her. The mother defended her offspring. It is most unusual to find a Muggle who protects rather than persecutes her magical child. Perhaps the others were correct when they claimed not all Muggles would harm one of us; yet this revelation does not sway my resolve.
Muggles remain a threat, and it is folly to continue returning our pupils to their homes without the smallest measure of protection.
Salazar Slytherin
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Dear Journal,
The diamond continues to send me flashes of images, though their focus hath shifted. I do believe it now shows me the future. I behold the fate of a girl whose eyes mirror mine own. Perhaps she is of my bloodline, a descendant? ’Tis strange, yet in these visions, the girl doth touch the diamond and is imbued with its power. Mayhap this is the reason the diamond hath spoken to me through these images; it would seem to bid me record all that it imparts, so that my descendant, Eliza, may know its history when she at last discovers it.
Should these visions prove true, it appears my chamber shall lie abandoned for decades. I had intended it to endure, that future descendants might be made aware of our noble history. Yet in these visions I perceive the Slytherin name scorned and reviled, and another scion of mine driven to madness. It grieveth me to realize that I may not alter this course. I know not the cause, and therefore cannot forestall it.
I shall persist in my labours upon the Island. The Muggle woman, Primrose by name, proves exceedingly kind—far kinder than I had until now imagined Muggles capable of being toward magical folk. I have aided her in the construction of a dwelling and employed my magic to render it more comfortable for her and her daughter. I ensure to bring them sustenance, and the little girl, Violet, now runs to meet me with eager delight whenever I return.
I cannot deny that I feel a certain ease in the company of this small family. Only recently have I observed that I treat the girl, Violet, as though she were my own; perchance I ought soon to consider settling. I could find far worse than Primrose to court: she is comely, accepts magic without fear, and tends to her child with devoted care—so much so that she would have placed herself between daughter and deceased husband to protect the girl.
Truly, I could do far worse than to win the favour of such a woman.
Salazar Slytherin
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Eliza continued reading the journal, surprised and fascinated by the contents. She was also horrified when she realized that she had become a strange Gem-Human-Ghost hybrid thing.
Did this mean she was dead? Could someone be a ghost and still be alive? Maybe reading more of the journal would answer her questions. She really hoped it calmed her down because her eyes were glowing so bright with her fear that she didn't need to use her wand to light up the room anymore.
Reading on, she learned that she was most likely now a hybrid but was still alive. She should have a human and a ghost form, and she'd be like the strange ghosts that Salazar had seen in his visions. While she wasn't happy that she was partly dead, she was relieved she was still alive for the most part.
Standing up, thankful her legs no longer felt like silly putty, she tried to figure out what to do. How would she hide the changes? Maybe Dobby could help?
"Dobby!" she croaked out; her throat felt like she had just taken sandpaper to it.
Dobby popped in next to her. "Misses Potter needs Dobby's help?" Dobby took one look at Eliza and gasped in horror, "Misses Eliza Potter what's be happening to you?"
"Dobby, as you can see, there are a few changes I can't explain. Do you know of any way to hide them from everyone—even Dumbledore? Also, can you get me some water, please?"
Dobby popped away before coming back with a huge glass of water, which he handed to Eliza. He patiently waited until she drank some before speaking. "If Dobby were to bond to Misses Potter, I can bes using house-elvies magic to hide changes!"
"I thought you wanted to be free though?" Eliza questioned, feeling better now that she got some water down her throat.
Dobby shook his head, "Free from bad masters yes, but Dobby now bes needings new bond or his magic will bes getting weaker!"
"I'll ask more about that later, but if you're sure this is what you want, then sure we can bond?" Eliza said, very confused, but going along with it.
It wasn't long after that before Dobby and Eliza were bonded. Dobby used his magic to hide the changes that happened to Eliza, then he popped her into the Gryffindor bathrooms so she could take a shower. It took ages to scrub the dried blood off her back, but eventually she was done. She fell face-first into her bed and knew she would be tired the rest of the day.
She would try to find time to read the rest of Salazar's journal. It might have more answers for her, not to mention the rest of the books in that room. It was clear Voldemort had never found that room; he would have taken the books and the diamond if he had.
Eliza slowly drifted off to sleep, thankful her eyes weren't acting as a nightlight anymore.
Her hair moves like it's underwater, shifting between neon green and neon blue depending on angle and lighting. Ghost is very loyal to Phantom and will defend her Diamond's "flawless" and "perfect" image fiercely.
I love talking with neurotypical people about my executive dysfunction because I'm like "yeah there's this invisible wall in my head that I'm incapable of getting past no matter what I do and it stops me from doing things" and they're like what the actual fuck
Her hair moves like it's underwater, shifting between neon green and neon blue depending on angle and lighting. Ghost is very loyal to Phantom and will defend her Diamond's "flawless" and "perfect" image fiercely.
