Charlie (my muse who happens to look very much like Sherlock) and I introduce you to where I will be placing my various one-shots for my many roleplay characters over the years. **I do not claim to own/create any of the images posted here, just the characters**
Time for writers to self-promote or at least show some pride in yourself! What is a chapter or one shot or even just a paragraph or sentence that you wrote that you can't get over or just love so much?
I know it can be so hard to show self-love for ourselves as writers, but I give you permission to do so!
Tagging some of the writers I follow who may consider participating: @samwpmarleau, @eidetictelekinetic, @buckyhoney, @blackinkpen, @cosmonauthill, @crimsonrae, @mamashitty, @boxofbonesfic
Summary: Damian returns to his parents’ home after his father passes away. Takes place in 1996.
Using the following prompts by @creativepromptsforwriting:
Prompt #112: use the words sigil, secret, and sorrow
Prompt #84: use the words orange, spices, and sweetness
Prompt #269: There is a common saying about the calm before the storm. But no one ever talks about the deafening silence after the storm hit.
Permission to reblog, @creativepromptfills.
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For the first time in a while, Damian had a weekend off. He was certainly grateful for it, but now it meant he had some free time to finish cleaning out his parents’ house. It was not a task he had been looking forward to in the weeks following his father’s passing. However, it needed to be done in order for the house to be sold. And Damian knew he would regret it if he did that without giving the place at least one last look over.
To Damian’s relief, Colton Green had passed fairly peacefully. He knew that his father’s heart had shattered upon the loss of his wife the year before, so he was at the very least happy to think that the two of them were at last in each other’s arms again. The funeral for his now late father had taken place a week ago, but sometimes it still felt like just yesterday. Going through his death and the necessary goodbyes had been hard and tumultuous, filling Damian with a range of emotions. And sorrow was somehow only one of those many feelings. Losing one parent had been hard enough, especially with the reign of terror currently going on in Europe, but having another go not very long after made Damian’s whole life feel like just one devastating gale. So he permitted his work as a fairly new Auror to shield him, working through the rain and sleet alike as best he could.
There is a common saying about the calm before the storm. But no one ever talks about the deafening silence after the storm hit. The creak of the front door opening was the only sound that echoed through the one-floor ranch house. Damian was used to being greeted by stillness at his own apartment, but hearing it here was eerie. It was no secret that this place would never be the same now that its previous inhabitants would no longer be returning, but the reality of it all was still harsh to accept. As he shut the door behind him, Damian took a moment to close his eyes.
Almost immediately, his mind went back in time to reminisce. Because his mother had been gone the longest, she was the first to appear. The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled at her son. While Maria Green had not returned to her Florida hometown in quite a few years, her skin remained just as sunkissed as it always had been. The smell of spices filled Damian’s nostrils, anise and cinnamon if he remembered correctly, as she moved to greet him. Her lack of physical presence was not lost on him, but he was comforted by the phantom scents. Maria’s mouth moved soundlessly as she appeared to call for his father, who was seated in the living room reading the paper. The scene was laid out like a typical Sunday morning, judging by how Colton set aside the large comic section instead of his usual stock market updates. Despite being retired, the old man still took the time to see how his investments were doing.
The visual faded away as Damian opened his eyes again. He savored the still lingering scents from the brief memory as he headed for the kitchen. There, his moment was interrupted by a different sweetness hanging in the air. Brow furrowing in both distaste and puzzlement, Damian wondered where the slightly soured smell was coming from. It didn’t take long for him to locate the bowl of untouched past-their-prime oranges on the countertop. Damian couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, despite the flies he waved away on approach. The fruit had clearly been untouched for some time, indicating that his father never had any intention of eating them. Therefore, Damian could see the orange being an obvious sigil of Colton’s love for his late wife.
He had heard often of the tale of how his parents had met. While on a business trip in Miami, Colton had decided to take a brief tour of an orange grove. There, he had become quickly entranced by the owner’s daughter. He did not impress the farmer with his New Yorker banker background, but Maria was just as smitten. In an almost fairytale-like fashion, the pair showed one another their different lifestyles: that of a southern belle and a Yankee city slicker. Damian’s mother was certainly more than just a simple farmgirl, running the numbers and a great portion of her family’s orange farm behind the scenes. And his father was not just a stiff white-collar worker, having no problem rolling up his sleeves and getting some dirt under his nails with cars and gardens alike.
Colton promised Maria the world, even if he didn’t have a single penny to his name. But her family never consented to their union, despite everything Damian’s father tried to do to please them. His mother was choosing someone outside of their class and culture, and the couple had no choice but to leave Florida and the orange trees behind. Colton started by taking Maria around the country, showing her all that he could just as he promised. Over the next few years, his parents traveled to each and every state. They would have gone further if Maria hadn’t discovered she was pregnant while they were visiting the Grand Canyon.
Growing up, Damian had heard most of the story from his parents, but some of the details could also be pieced together with help from their massive scrapbook collection. The books the pair had made of their journey were beautiful, and Damian made sure to collect them immediately after disposing of the rotting oranges. He took a seat on the couch with the multicolored stack of books beside him. While he knew his parents had been expecting him and his sister then, it was interesting to watch the pages skip from the Grand Canyon right into their wedding planning in Niagara Falls. Their honeymoon had been spent between New York and Canada, giving Colton and Maria a bit more time together before they welcomed Damian and his twin sister into the world.
Despite how the pregnancy itself had not been depicted, nearly every moment following the twins’ birth had been captured. Damian did not have any personal memories of the sister he had shared his mother’s womb with, as she had passed before taking her first breath, but his parents’ scrapbook allowed him to see the pair of them side-by-side. One would have thought she had died later on, she looked so serene in the photos. But out of all of the rest, his sister’s pictures were the only ones that did not move. Even after all these years and never having known her, Damian couldn’t help but feel the pain of yet another missing piece to his heart at the sight.
He shut the book, balancing it briefly in his palms. The sight of the cover blurred slightly as the tears came. The silence around him was stifling, somehow more overwhelming than constant noise. Damian had never felt so alone before, and this grief cut deeper than any physical blow he had ever received. And unlike a bruise, the hurt would take much longer to heal, if it would at all. He missed them all greatly, but all he could now was say goodbye and move forward with their memories.
G E N E R A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Name: Aston Ethan Bradley
Nickname: N/A
Gender: Male
Birthplace: Cornwall, UK
Birthdate: October 7, 1974
Current Residence: Bradley Hall, the family estate
Employer: Himself
Occupation: Art dealer, owner of the Bradley Company
Blood: Pureblood
A P P E A R A N C E
Height: 5’ 9
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown
Dominant Hand: Right
Other: Small pawprint tattoo in remembrance of a childhood dog on the inside of his left wrist
Playby: Daniel Brühl
B I O G R A P H I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Aston is from a long line of art dealers. The Bradley Company specializes in their own line of artwork as well as being a mediator between galleries and artists. Their works range from paintings (moving and not) to sculptures from all eras. Naturally, Aston was surrounded by wealth and opportunity his entire life. He traveled often with his father, who was the head of it all.
Aston dreaded going to Hogwarts, as it meant that he wouldn’t get to travel with his parents. His mother urged him to focus on his studies even when he was home for the holidays, which made him envious of his cousin Thomas Hawkins’, especially when the younger one attended school and still got to go away to Egypt and beyond. But, he had to be the responsible older one, and he tried to not take his jealousy out on Tom. He was secretly glad, however, when he heard that Tom had disappointed his aunt with his career choices.
But Aston always had much more important things to deal with. Even though he would rather be seeing the world, he did throw himself into his work. Charms and, surprisingly, History of Magic took his fancy because of their relationships to his family’s work. He discovered that “wanting to ask more questions” relating to his “homework” permitted Aston to meet with the Bradley Company artists and learn more about their craft. The list of names he collected from those meetings Aston continues to carry and update to show his respect for them. His mother always knew her employees by name, so he learned to follow suit. Aston’s father began grooming him to take on the position as head of the company, considering how he had no other siblings to take over after both of his parents’ passings. Most of the job unfortunately involved a lot of accounting and desk work, much to Aston’s chagrin. But, he is the heir, afterall.
Stefan Bradley succumbed to the flu of September 2012. He passed away peacefully at Bradley Hall with his family around him. A few months later, Aston began to notice that his mother was changing: the names she once could recall were harder to find, tremors in her hands, and going up the stairs required much more effort. Everly Bradley was diagnosed with dementia, further leaving Aston entirely in charge of the business very quickly. But Aston held his head high while also making sure that his mother was properly cared after in Bradley Hall.
One final goal that Aston needs to complete is finding his partner in life as well as business. Female or male, he does not have a preference. He would just like to find someone to settle with before his mother completely leaves his side.
C O N N E C T I O N S
Parents: Stefan Bradley (father - deceased 2012), Everly Bradley (mother)
Romance: Collette Kingsbury (girlfriend since late 2015)
Notables: Thomas Hawkins’ cousin (mothers are sisters)
O T H E R T H I N G S
Education: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Slytherin House
Wand: Aspen, twelve and a half inches, dragon core, reasonably supple
Patronus: Whippet
Sexuality: Bisexual
Spoken Languages: English, German, Italian
Likes: Spending time with his artists and his dogs (current: grey Whippet named Cassius)
Dislikes: Stress, being stuck in the office
Song: The Tudors' Main Titles - Trevor Morris
character profile - Rowan Goodfellow {star sailor}
G E N E R A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Name: Dr. Rowan Sebastian Goodfellow
Nickname: N/A
Gender: Male
Birthplace: NASA Hospital, Mars
Birthdate: November 1, 2065
Age: 35
Current Residence: TBD
Employer: NASA
Occupation: Medical support
Blood: A+
A P P E A R A N C E
Height: 5’ 7
Hair: Dark brown
Eyes: Green
Dominant Hand: Right
Playby: Sebastian Stan
B I O G R A P H I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N
As a resident Martian born right in the heart of the NASA base, it was only natural that Rowan one day join the ranks. The new world of opportunity and experience, where his family had come generations before to build the Goodfellow name. A family of scientists and explorers working to make their mark on Mars and beyond.
Rowan joined NASA after he finished his residency, stepping forward as the new Dr. Rowan Goodfellow. Medical science was his main area of expertise, especially concerning the impact of the human body in space. Rowan became a part of the main medical team, then worked his way up to join the brand new group working towards expanding the human race beyond the current solar system, pushing technology and human capabilities to their limits. What could possibly go wrong?
Rowan has a hard exterior, something he developed while growing up. His younger sister Andromeda has special needs, requiring him to remain strong and independent. He loves her deeply and helped his parents care for her ever since she was little. Now that he has to spend most of his time at the base, he is able to pursue what he loves but sometimes feels bad that his family has to be left behind. Her smile always brightened up his day.
C O N N E C T I O N S
Parents: Ryan Goodfellow (father), April Goodfellow (mother)
Siblings: Andromeda Goodfellow (younger sister, 28)
Tension: Regan Rutledge
O T H E R T H I N G S
Education: Medical doctorate and the hell that leads to it
Sexuality: Whatever
Spoken Languages: English
Likes: His little sis
Dislikes: People who don’t think things through
Song: Million Miles an Hour - Nickelback
G E N E R A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Name: Thomas Osiris Hawkins
Nickname: Tom
Gender: Male
Birthplace: Cairo, Egypt
Birthdate: July 30, 1980
Current Residence: NYC, New York
Employer: DARK
Occupation: DARK operative, specialty in runes and rune tattoos
Blood: Pureblood
A P P E A R A N C E
Height: 6' 1
Hair: Dirty blonde and brown with hints of red in certain lights
Eyes: Light green
Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous
Other: Multiple runes tattooed across his back, back of his hands, arms, and thighs in various colors (a majority of them are in the traditional black) that he can trigger to be visible and not on command
Playby: Tom Hiddleston
B I O G R A P H I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Fascination with ancient cultures and the human body runs in the Hawkins family. Although, it has not always been in the best ways: the first generations of Hawkins were grave robbers. Some searched for treasures, others for cadavers to experiment and probe.
George and Melody Hawkins were no different. George was an explorer, traveling the world with his healer wife and little Tom to find tombs and treasures. It was his father that led him to be interested in the ancient writings, despite how neither of them had no idea what they truly said. The way that the designs curved and meant multiple meanings drew Tom in quickly as he learned to read English. When he was thirteen during one of the many visits to Egypt over the summer (of course they were almost always there, given his middle name), Tom met with an elderly tattoo artist who taught him some simple meanings to the hieroglyphs that he tended to see on the walls.
When the summer ended, Tom begged his parents to let him come back the next year to learn more. George was thrilled, considering how it would help them understand those inscribed on the tomb walls. Melody was a little disappointed, as she was hoping that her son would make a name for himself as a healer, but she did see how passionate he was about it. So each summer, Tom returned to the elderly man's tattoo parlor to learn runes and glyphs. His second visit his mentor permitted him to try using his tattoo needle. His mother was not pleased when he returned to England with a small rune on the inside of his right wrist. Tom did his best to keep it concealed from her, but her disappointment was clear.
Eventually, as any young apprentice does, Tom became a bit bored from doing the same thing each summer. Yes, he was learning new runes and words each day, but it was beginning to lose some of its glamour. He started doodling on the side because his mentor would not permit him to tattoo all the time, but he quickly learned that he needed to better respect the runes as his paper lit up into flames. Tom was terrified, but also even more intrigued.
By the time he was seventeen, Tom had runes across his back, arms, thighs, and the back of his hands. He quickly learned that certain combinations did different things. And to his mother's relief, one of those combinations permitted him to hide all of the others when he wanted. Granted, it took him quite a few years to get to that point, but once he did she seemed to accept his line of work a bit better. Moving to America and getting the job as a DARK operative to continue his experimentation made him feel a bit more validated, but he can't tell his mother. Oops.
C O N N E C T I O N S
Parents: George Hawkins (explorer and world traveler, father), Melody Hawkins (healer, mother)
Romance: Hollis Vane (partner since early 2015)
Tension: His mother not being a fan of his work (but it's manageable)
Notables: His first relationship was with a gay man, but they broke up because his boyfriend was uncomfortable with Tom being bisexual; younger cousin to Aston Bradley (mothers are sisters); Selim Gerges, his first tattoo mentor in Egypt.
O T H E R T H I N G S
Education: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Ravenclaw House
Wand: Mahogany, twelve and a quarter inches, unicorn hair
Sexuality: Bisexual
Spoken Languages: English, Arabic
Likes: Runes, tattoos, high collars
Dislikes: People who don't take the time to understand his passion
Song: The Imitation Game - Alexander Desplat & London Symphony Orchestra
G E N E R A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Name: Raven Elizabeth Brown
Nickname: Ven
Gender: Female
Birthplace: United Kingdom
Birthdate: December 15, 1977
Current Residence: United Kingdom
Employer: the Organization
Occupation: Assassin, owner of The Unicorn Horn
Blood: Pureblood
A P P E A R A N C E
Height: 5' 11
Hair: Dark brown
Eyes: Hazel
Dominant Hand: Right
Playby: Gal Gadot
B I O G R A P H I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Raven (like most women one will meet) is more than just a pretty face. She does use her looks to her advantage, although being told she is beautiful no longer freezes her in her tracks she has heard it so often. Her parents have told her so as well as the many men (and women) she has chosen to affiliate herself with over the years. As a result, it takes a bit for Raven to be impressed or surprised by what others say to her. Most of her conversations are carried out with an extremely casual air, and it can almost be taken as if she isn't fully invested in the discussion.
Raven's childhood was a bit more eventful than most because of her perceived beauty. Her parents put her into Muggle beauty pageants, clearly taking advantage of their daughter as well as their magical abilities. Raven has taken care to block most of those years from memory, but the numerous trophies and crowns that still litter her family's living room are enough reminders. This also explains why she does not spend a lot of time with her parents, distancing herself from her family so that she can be her own person. Going to Hogwarts helped with that as well, of course, allowing her to make friends and focus on other things kids do. So when she was seventeen, she knew that she definitely wanted to go out on her own and figure out things.
So far, Raven feels that her life is lacking some adventure. Each night after work, she just goes home to her apartment to spend the rest of the night with her cat.
Raven used to be more adventurous. After she finished school, Raven moved out to live on her own and trained in martial arts as well as received her pistol certification. With this experience and her beauty, Raven began work as an assassin. The job did not last for too long with maybe only about three or four kills under her belt. The fact that she had to seduce people, only to kill them in the end, was uncomfortable (of course), so she left the assassin world behind after only about four years of work (from 1994-1998).
Now, the Organization has dragged her back into the game. There is no turning back, not with her kill count just going up and up and up…
C O N N E C T I O N S
Parents: Walter Brown (father), Diana Brown (mother)
Children: Chrissy (tabby cat)
Romance: Deckard Molton (ex-boyfriend, 1997-1998)
Tension: Deckard Molton (she broke up with him…)
O T H E R T H I N G S
Education: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Ravenclaw House
Wand: Cherry, nine inches, unicorn hair
Patronus: Crow
Sexuality: Bisexual
Spoken Languages: English
Likes: Cats, sparkling water, long walks on the beach, books
Dislikes: When people tell her how pretty she is, how people tend to treat her because of her looks
Song: Confident - Demi Lovato
G E N E R A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Name: Damian Luther Green
Nickname: N/A
Gender: Male
Birthplace: Niagara Falls, NY
Birthdate: July 19, 1976
Current Residence: Staten Island, NYC
Employer: MACUSA, Floor 47: Department of Magical Security
Occupation: Auror
Blood: Pureblood
A P P E A R A N C E
Height: 6' 0
Hair: Dark brown, appears black at times
Eyes: Green-blue (most of the time)
Dominant Hand: Right
Other: Eyes change color depending on what he is wearing and his mood
Playby: Benedict Cumberbatch
B I O G R A P H I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Growing up, Damian always learned to treat magic with respect and care. His parents viewed magic as something that should not be messed with; in a way, they were conservative with their use of magic, taking care not to use it for trivial matters and only when necessary. However, Damian was not much of an athlete or a scholar even during his time at Ilvermorny, so magic was his outlet and his passion. He hated studying and sports couldn't hold his attention for very long, so his wand was his main source of entertainment. And although he wasn't a fan of homework and essays, Charms and Transfiguration held his interest when it came to developing his skills. He wasn't the best at either by far, but his determination showed as he worked to master spells beyond his years.
As Damian neared his final year at Ilvermorny, he began to look into where he could apply his passion without feeling like he was back in school. Although DARK seemed to appeal to him because of his interests, the idea of being involved in a research-like environment made it out of the question. He wanted to be out in the world as well as developing his skills, and therefore Floor 47 and its Auror department drew him in.
Damian was working himself up the ranks when his parents both passed away in his early twenties. He knew that they were both proud of what he was making of himself, but he also wondered if they were also disappointed that he was choosing to dominate his magical ability so much. His mother had never quite approved of his growing dueling capability, and neither of his parents had mastered non-verbal spells themselves. In his darkest moments, Damian does wonder if he is taking advantage of magic too much as their beliefs always linger in the back of his mind.
Because of his rapid knowledge of spells, dueling has become almost second nature to Damian. He prides himself in his ability to produce non-verbal spells, which he believes provides him with some advantage. He also managed to produce a Patronus successfully at eighteen, but ever since his parents' passing the task has become much more difficult to accomplish. His next goal is to try wandless magic, although this is something that takes perhaps a much more brilliant mind. Damian is also hesitant to truly get himself invested in such a practice, as it contradicts his family's beliefs.
Damian has currently been working at MACUSA, Floor 47 as an Auror for about fifteen years. He is currently looking to team up with another Auror (most likely Sawyer since Scott became director).
In February of 2013, Damian and Sawyer went on a raid of one of Gasparini's potential storage facilities to try and catch him in the act of his illegal smuggling. The numerous booby traps to the building led Damian to cause a fireplace of fire, lightning, and acid to explode in an effort to save them both. The explosion did the job, but in the process, his hands became seriously injured and his wand destroyed. Damian is currently working towards his recovering at Spirito Santo, but it is unsure whether or not he will ever be able to perform magic again.
C O N N E C T I O N S
Parents: Colton Green (father - deceased 1996), Maria Green (mother - deceased 1995)
Siblings: Unnamed twin sister (deceased 1976)
Notables: Aisling OConnell (friend from school)
O T H E R T H I N G S
Education: Ilvermorny, Thunderbird
Wand: Redwood, thirteen and a quarter inches, phoenix feather, supple flexibility - destroyed February 2013; Cypress, fourteen and a half inches, phoenix feather, reasonably supple
Patronus: Goshawk
Sexuality: Straight
Spoken Languages: English
Likes: Spells/magic, dueling, cats, blue
Dislikes: Small spaces
Song: Rise - Katy Perry
character profile - Deckard Molton {angel of trauma}
G E N E R A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Name: Deckard Travis Molton
Nickname: Dec
Gender: Male
Birthplace: London, England
Birthdate: September 13, 1979
Current Residence: London, England
Employer: St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Occupation: Healer on the First Floor: Creature-Induced Injuries
Blood: Pureblood
A P P E A R A N C E
Height: 6' 4
Hair: Dirty blonde, varies between being on the long or short side
Eyes: Blue-grey
Dominant Hand: Left
Other: The St. Mungo's logo tattooed on the inside of his left forearm; often possesses a decent beard; needs glasses for reading
Playby: Chris Hemsworth
B I O G R A P H I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Deckard Molton has always been intrigued by aspects of the medical field. Ever since he was a kid, blood and gore never bothered him much. He was always interested in everything from minor scrapes and bruises to when the neighbor's daughter fell from her broom and broke her leg. He once came across a kitten that had had its leg torn off by a wolf, and it was his first real test at putting his medical instincts into practice. Miraculously, Dec was able to stop the bleeding and help put the kitten on the mend. Turkey lived with the Molton family for the next fifteen years.
Deckard is one of four children and is the second oldest after his brother and before his three sisters: Nathan, Ginger, Candace, and Jolie. After receiving his acceptance letter, Dec was placed into Gryffindor House. While Dec is fairly intelligent, his confidence and blatant attitude made him a definite choice for the house. While he was looking into pursuing medicine as a career (with much encouragement from his family, who was rather overwhelmed by his eagerness at times), he was fascinated by the magical aspect that could be added to it as well. His professors made sure that he was ready by showing him the most gory of images imaginable, and Dec was easily able to look past it all and determine a course of action. Naturally, with much practice and plenty of exams, Dec went on to work his way up to becoming one of the healers at St. Mungo's after graduating from Hogwarts. His current floor is the first with his main practice being with those patients admitted with severe creature-induced injuries.
In his free time (especially when he's not on call), Dec enjoys spending time with his young nieces and nephew. Their favorite pastimes together is baking, wrestling, and falling asleep on the couch.
C O N N E C T I O N S
Parents: Grace Molton (mother), Levi Molton (father)
Siblings: Nathan Molton (oldest brother, born 1978, Gryffindor), Ginger Molton (younger sister, born 1984, Gryffindor), Candace Molton (younger sister, born 1986, Ravenclaw), Jolie Molton (younger sister, born 1987, Ravenclaw)
Romance: Raven Brown (ex-girlfriend, 1997-1998), Marceline Dufresne (summer of 2000)
Tension: Raven Brown (she broke up with him…)
Notables: His brother Nathan has two daughters and a son who Dec babysits from time to time
O T H E R T H I N G S
Education: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Gryffindor House
Wand: Cedarwood, fourteen and a half inches, phoenix feather
Patronus: Capuchin Monkey
Sexuality: Bisexual
Spoken Languages: English
Likes: Blood, gore, taking care of people, experiencing unique cases, thunderstorms and rain, coffee, documentaries
Dislikes: Losing a patient
Song: Give Me a Sign - Breaking Benjamin
G E N E R A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Name: Kyle Alexander Lucas
Nickname: N/A
Gender: Male
Birthplace: Essex, United Kingdom
Birthdate: June 12, 1995
Current Residence: London, England
Employer: Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Games and Sports
Occupation: Wizarding Games Associate, Level Seven
Blood: Pureblood
A P P E A R A N C E
Height: 5' 11
Hair: Dark brown, wavy
Eyes: Brown
Dominant Hand: Right
Other: His left thumb is slightly crooked from a Quidditch match in his sixth year
Playby: Tom Holland
B I O G R A P H I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Kyle has always been a carefree kid, working hard not to let his anxiety get in the way of his present. Sorted into Hufflepuff House, Kyle enjoys the calm nature of his fellow students and has no problem spending his evenings with a cup of tea in the common room. However, when he told his parents that he was just having a good time chilling with his classmates and attending his classes, they encouraged him to try to join a club or team to get more involved. Kyle had always had fun flying his broomstick at home in the countryside, so one of his friends suggested he try out for the house team. Just for the heck of it.
As a first year, Kyle was only able to start off as a ball boy. Then at tryouts, they chose him to be a backup Seeker. As he took part more and more in the sport, Kyle fell in love with his teammates and spending his evenings zooming around the pitch. For fun, he dares his mates to see who would get the highest before jumping off into the lake. Swimming is another strength of his, which led to his confidence in taking part in the recklessness. By his fourth year, Kyle was the main Seeker of the Hufflepuff team. His first match in the position almost led him to have a panic attack from the stress, but he pulled through and was able to at least catch the Snitch to end the game.
Ever since that day, Kyle finds that he is able to meet situations a bit more calmly than he used to. His team is always there to support him, and because they are a team they handle each loss and win together. Kyle always considers his Quidditch team friends to be some of his closest mates and tries his best to keep in touch with them when he can during the holidays. During the quarterfinals of the house cup of his sixth year, he fractured his left thumb from a Bludger to the hand that nearly knocked him off his broom (which is currently the Nimbus 2001, although his heart is naturally set on getting himself a Firebolt one day). Hufflepuff placed third in the House Cup in 2010, fourth in 2011, and first in 2013.
Now in his final year at Hogwarts, Kyle's parents are encouraging him to figure out what he wants to do once he graduates. Although Quidditch had become one of his passions, he knew he wasn't cut out to make it a livelihood. After a few summers of mowing lawns, shoveling driveways, and delivering newspapers, Kyle applied to become an intern in the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry of Magic. He wants to see the world, but he also has no problem spending his evenings at home with a cup of tea.
C O N N E C T I O N S
Parents: Emma Lucas (mother), Owen Lucas (father)
Romance: Beatrice Quade (girlfriend)
Tension: … Bast
Notables: His father tends to be harsh on Kyle while his mother shares his anxiety; has a brown owl named Daisy
O T H E R T H I N G S
Education: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hufflepuff House
Wand: Holly, eleven inches, phoenix feather
Sexuality: Undecided
Spoken Languages: English
Likes: Swimming, tea with a squirt of lemon and a teaspoon of honey
Dislikes: His anxiety, stress
Song: Close Your Eyes - Breaking Benjamin
G E N E R A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Name: Christopher Josiah Doyle
Nickname: Chris
Gender: Male
Birthplace: San Francisco, California
Birthdate: April 25
Age: 34
Current Residence: London, England
Employer: Falmouth Falcons
Occupation: Professional Quidditch Player | Keeper
Blood: Pureblood
A P P E A R A N C E
Height: 6' 0
Hair: Light brown
Eyes: Hazel, but more green than brown
Dominant Hand: Right
Other: Diagnosed with low muscle tone at the age of three, and for this reason has to take a Strengthening Solution every night before bed to keep his health and muscles in shape; Taurus symbol on his left bicep as a tribute to his father (they were both born in that range, Chris in April and his father in May)
Playby: Chris Evans
B I O G R A P H I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Ever since he was young he had to work harder than everyone else to get what he wanted. Born several weeks premature, he suffers from low muscle tone and is required to take a Strengthening Solution regularly. In order to help build up his strength, Chris's father got him into Quidditch and surfing when he was four, buying him his first surfboard and broom (a Comet 260) and teaching him the rules of the game.
Although while he was a child the United States did not involve much in Quidditch, Chris was still able to play with other kids in his neighborhood who were also interested in the sport. He grew to become a Keeper, and his love for the sport allowed him to combat his strength issues. When he attended Ilvermorny, he continued to develop his skills by joining the Pukwudgie Quodpot team. And since Ilvermorny students are not permitted to take their wands home until they are seventeen, Chris spent most of his time off playing Quidditch with his neighbors and imitating the moves done by their idols in Europe and the league.
After several years of training following his completion of his seventh year of school, Chris began to send out applications to international Quidditch teams such as his own American one and a few others in England. Eventually the Falmouth Falcons chose him to be an extra Keeper. Chris moved out of his parents' house and purchased an apartment in England to spend his Quidditch season in. For a while his teammates made fun of him for being an American on a English team as well as the fact that he was the spare keeper who wasn't really needed. But eventually, he and his teammates became friends after a year together. Chris was adamant about remaining on the team, and helped out a lot at practices. During matches, he helped when it came to recovering rouge balls (except the Snitch).
It wasn't until their Keeper suffered from a rather severe head injury from a misaimed bludger (their Beater had hit it particularly hard at the opposing Chaser, who dodged at the last second) that Chris got the chance to actually play in a match. The moves that he developed from surfing allowed him to assist in his team's come-from-behind-win, allowing them to keep the score down low enough so that their Seeker could catch the Snitch. He has been respected by his peers ever since.
Known for being a bit of a womanizer and a tease, Chris has had several girlfriends over the years. Many of the relationships didn't last too long, and most of them were summer flings. Truly sweet and caring, Chris looks up to his father a great deal and tries his best to make him proud when he can. However, his father passed away from pancreatic cancer roughly two years ago. The whole experience was tough on Chris, and it changed his outlook on life significantly. Over the course of the last two years, Chris has spent most of his time with his mother. The Falcons allowed him to take the time off to grieve, but with the World Cup gradually approaching they are eager to see him return.
For the first time in years, Chris is hesitant about returning to Quidditch (and the real world in general). He wonders if maybe he should try and grow up, settle down in his life, and put his reckless, playboy years behind him.
C O N N E C T I O N S
Parents: Samantha Doyle (mother), Phil Doyle (father - deceased)
O T H E R T H I N G S
Education: Ilvermorny, Pukwudgie
Wand: Oak, eleven and three-quarter inches, phoenix feather
Sexuality: Straight
Spoken Languages: English
Likes: Surfing, flying, playing Quidditch or Quodpot
Dislikes: Being questioned after his strength and loyalty
Song: You'll Be in My Heart - Phil Collins
G E N E R A L I N F O R M A T I O N
Name: Flynn Octavian Ryder
Nickname: N/A
Gender: Male
Birthplace: London, England
Birthdate: August 29
Age: 38
Current Residence: London, England
Employer: Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Occupation: Auror
Blood: Pureblood
A P P E A R A N C E
Height: 6’ 0
Hair: Dirty blonde
Eyes: Sea green
Dominant Hand: Right
Other: Possesses a faint beard
Playby: William Moseley
B I O G R A P H I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N
(At age 22)
Flynn Rider is your typical little geeky photographer; the slow kid on the school field trips who always lagged behind, ogling at the statues with his old fashioned Polaroid Muggle camera clasped tightly to his chest. He was the one who always got what everyone called "lost;" but to Flynn, he was only on an adventure.
Ever since he was little, Flynn was often told that he had a wild imagination. But even as he got older, Flynn never admitted that to himself; instead, he claimed that he just saw everything else differently. He saw stories emerging from even the smallest of things just by gazing at them, and he wanted to capture the emotion and feeling in everything that he saw so that others could see what he did. When he went to Hogwarts, he was in Hufflepuff House, and even there was sometimes picked on for his rather dreamy and creative nature.
Sort of clumsy since he takes so much time surveying his surroundings, Flynn is always paying attention to detail; that is, stuff that attracts his attention enough to photograph it. So he is also easily distracted; so much that he sometimes loses focus on what's more important. His hobby has taken over his life, so to speak; and now he is a wanderer, traveling the world ever since he had left Hogwarts. He takes up odd jobs here and there, and has never stayed in the same place twice, save his hometown in London.
Flynn needs to be grounded for sure. He is a lost soul, unknowingly trying to find himself and his purpose. He always subconsciously thought that finding beauty in other things would help him find his own.
(Sixteen years later…)
Just after he turned 22, Flynn Ryder's true tale was revealed. Instead of a halfblood as he always portrayed himself to be, Flynn is actually a pureblood. Truly from London, he did not grow up in a poorer household as many would imagine. In fact, it was quite the opposite: his family is rich and rather powerful, his father in charge of the Auror department of the Ministry. He runs the place, making sure that criminals are found and locked up where they belong. No one has ever been on the run and free for too long.
Except Flynn.
His father, John Ryder, is actually his step-father. His mother, Amelia, married him a few years after her husband was killed at the Battle of Hogwarts. Flynn was young, but he remembers how much his mother changed upon marrying him. She no longer is bubbly and happy; instead, she worried over him and everyone wanted him to become a great Auror like John. His biological father had been not quite as heroic as John, having loved the beauty of the forest and nature (a trait that Amelia clearly saw in Flynn). Amelia wanted him to be successful in life, and that stress was what changed her the most.
Flynn immersed himself in the Muggle writings, finding Shakespeare one of many who seemed to have beauty woven in his words. He tried to create poetry and the like, but found in the end that photography was where his strengths were, as well as the ability to discover more natural, almost rarer beauty. It had taken him several years to learn that; not until he was thirteen and his mother was "happily" married to John.
To make a long story short, Flynn and John never seem to meet eye-to-eye. John saw Flynn as "unruly" and "delicate," almost like the stereotypical rich, spoiled boy. And it was that notion that brought him down the most. Practically shoved into the Ministry to try and prove himself, Flynn took his job at the Daily Prophet where he struggled greatly with the time pressures and ridicule. The other reporters often mocked his pictures, making fun of the time he spent taking each one. He became nothing more than the spoiled rich kid who was only in it because his "father" had the power to make it so.
Flynn hated the prejudice he endured. He wanted independence, to find himself, and to show the world how much his photography meant to him and could mean to others. Most of all, he wanted to show that he could do anything on his own, without the help of money, status, or anyone else. At seventeen years old, fresh out of Hogwarts and only two months into his Prophet job, Flynn just… vanished.
No one could find him. Not even John's Aurors. Flynn knows all of the tricks that can help him get by without being caught, choosing more Muggle methods than wizardry ones: not filling everything out on applications, spending barely enough time in a place to really associate with anyone, only occasionally using magic, never using Floo Powder, he altered his last name slightly, and rarely Apparated. Walking was his main mode of transportation, and areas barren of people are his favorite locations.
Once did he return to the little country house that he had once grown up in before his mother's second marriage; and in the process, he was nearly caught. He knew that John and Amelia were still hunting for him. He knew what would happen when he will return: the Ryders would celebrate and then he would be married to the daughter of a friend. And that was exactly what happened when he was captured. Stuck back in the life he loathes, Flynn is married to Catherine and they have a sixteen year old son named Harmon.
His wealthy background has allowed him to pick up languages rather easily; but his poorer days still allow clumsiness, lack of arrogance, and absence of certain manners to pull through.
C O N N E C T I O N S
Marriage: Catherine Ryder
Children: Harmon Ryder, Louis Boutin
Romance: Eva Boutin…?
Tension: Eva Boutin, Louis Boutin, Catherine Ryder, John & Amelia Ryder
O T H E R T H I N G S
Education: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hufflepuff House
Wand: Reed, ten inches, unicorn hair
Sexuality: Straight
Spoken Languages: English, tiny bit of French
Likes: Taking pictures of beautiful things, spending time with Harmon
Dislikes: Being an Auror
Song: Invisible Man - Theory of a Deadman
I was always an outsider... and now you've let me know it
Warning(s): Language, physical abuse (adult against child), mentions of blood
Word Count: 1912
Character(s): Flynn Ryder, Amelia & John Ryder
Summary: One of the final interactions between Flynn, his mother, and his stepfather before he ran away from home.
Using the following prompts from @creativepromptsforwriting:
Prompt #443: “You’re always saying you want to hit me. Here’s your chance!”
Prompt #372: “Go on. I won’t stop you.”
Permission to reblog, @creativepromptfills.
Title credit to ajkanes
Flynn always dreaded his return home at the end of the school year, but the start of this holiday was especially hard. This time, he was getting back from his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. That meant that he would no longer be returning to the place he felt to be his true home, and instead, head into the adult world. No more learning and fun times messing around with his friends, just dull responsibilities and serious gatherings soon to be had. The thought made Flynn shiver, despite the early summer heat.
He shoved the front door of the Ryder Estate open with a shoulder, his foot nudging his trunk into the foyer ahead of him. As usual, Walter appeared almost immediately to take it for him. Flynn was still unsure of how to take the butler’s assistance even after living here for the majority of his life. He managed to awkwardly nod his appreciation as his things were whisked away and up the stairs to his room. Even so, he managed to feel a little bit better upon seeing Walter. If there was anything Flynn didn’t entirely hate about the lifestyle his mother had married into, it was the kind people that had been brought into his life as a result.
John Ryder, however, was not one of them. At least, Flynn felt that to be the case. His mother, Amelia, would forever argue (or deny, more likely) that her second husband was not as coldhearted and soulless as her son thought he was. To her, he was a “righteous” and “dedicated” Auror, always a man of “honor.” But her son knew that while she claimed to have married John because of his impressive resume, it was purely for financial reasons. Flynn and his mother had been extremely poor ever since he had been born, suffering even more so after Flynn’s father had died. Left alone with a very young child, she had become desperate, and capturing the heart of a suspiciously single, older, wealthy man had somehow been the answer to her prayers.
Flynn had been barely two when he and his mother had moved into the Ryder Estate. In the beginning, he spent all of his time with the hired nanny and his mother. John was scarcely around the small child, only offering a grunt or two of acknowledgment when he was forced to be present. Flynn wasn’t blind. While he may have appeared to have been a saint for taking him in, there was a reason John barely looked at him twice and hardly cared about anything his stepson did: he had never wanted children. That much had been evident from the start with his spotless and elaborate household, in addition to the lack of a previous marriage.
Then Flynn became a teenager, and John felt he was able to lower his parenteral barriers. And to John’s credit, he tried to start more conversations between them, but the discussions were awkward. He treated Flynn like an adult when they did engage. And while this could be considered flattering, it almost always made Flynn uncomfortable and irritated. In time, John began to constantly do nothing but talk about his rights as the man of the household, how important it was for him to make their Galleons, and his career of tracking down bad guys. He did his best to include Flynn in the conversation as the “next man in line,” blathering on about his future responsibilities as head of the estate and as an Auror. But in Flynn’s opinion, all of it was a bunch of bullshit. John’s job was nothing but violence and a ridiculous waste of one’s life. It was nothing he was interested in, dealing with endless paperwork and stalking potential criminals.
To his annoyance, the older he became, the more John seemed to work mostly at recruiting Flynn into his world. In the process, he never let the boy get a word in edgewise, which only frustrated Flynn further. Sometimes he managed to snap a smart remark here and there, which never usually boded well for him, but what else could he say? Flynn knew his stepfather didn’t care what he actually wanted to do with his life, and in the end he really just wanted John to leave him the fuck alone.
However, right now, Flynn didn’t like that he had been left to be on his own. No one had met him at the train station; a sight that had really saddened and bothered Flynn. Instead, they had just treated his last last day of school like it was any other day. The second person to greet Flynn home, after the fucking butler, was his mother. He was willing to embrace her, accepting her kiss well enough. But deep in his gut, he knew the conversation coming later that evening at dinner: what his next steps were and when would he be starting to work.
Therefore, Flynn made a choice to turn in early for the night. He did the same for nearly every evening afterward, to his mother’s dismay. Now back under the same roof as the man he despised, he wanted to keep his distance. When his mother did get Flynn to have a meal with them, he remained tightlipped throughout. As usual, John boasted constantly about his day. But when he noticed Flynn barely acknowledging him, something seemed to change quickly. His mood became soured even with his stepson’s silence. Oddly enough it was as if he wanted Flynn to fawn over and view him as some sort of superhero, which he had never done before. Each night this occurred, the tension building and building. As a result, John left the table one evening fuming, muttering something about needing to “slap some sense into that boy.”
At the fifth agitation-filled supper, John officially rounded on Flynn. “I think you’ve been stewing over there for long enough. Do you have something to say, son?” he asked shortly as he lifted his wineglass to his lips. Flynn had to bite back a laugh, dropping his eyes to his plate. He could feel his mother’s gaze on him, telepathically indicating that he needed to watch himself as she always did in these situations. “Do you think you’re funny?” John went on coldly. “Think you’re a man now, better than me?”
Flynn lowered his fork slowly. His hand was starting to shake, even though the corner of his lips was perking upward in some sort of eerily amused smirk. He wasn’t quite sure what was coming over him at that moment. He had been holding himself together for so long and so well, now wasn’t the time to snap. But at the same time, maybe he too was reaching his breaking point. Flynn cleared his throat before forcing himself to look back over at John. “No,” he answered. He kept his tone and features light, but his eyes glittered furiously.
“No, sir,” John spat firmly.
“No, sir.” Flynn could feel his mother’s eyes practically burning holes in the back of his neck, but he kept his gaze focused solely on his stepfather. “I don’t believe I’m funny.”
“Bloody hell you’re not,” John grumbled in agreement. He paused for a moment to cut into his pork. “And?” John asked as he placed a piece into his mouth. The sound of silverware on the plates filled the silence. Flynn still did not drop his eyes, watching him. The other glanced back, waiting for him to say more. “And?”
Flynn shrugged. “I have nothing more to say,” he replied. He inclined his head in an obviously mocking way. “Sir.”
It took John a moment to register what he was saying, but his rage in response was instantaneous. He surged to his feet, but he only towered over Flynn for a few seconds as his stepson quickly did the same. This was not the first time they had fought, but it was not often that things became physical. The pair were soon inches apart, glaring into one another’s faces. Amelia gasped from behind Flynn, and he could distantly hear her scolding him. But both men ignored her, focused only on their hatred. “You little bastard,” John growled, spittle gathering on the corners of his mouth. “I should have made your mother dump you off at the poorhouse where you belong, you ungrateful little shit.”
“Tell me how you really feel, John,” Flynn snarled back. “I know you’ve hated me ever since we met. You’ve never given two shits about me, especially since I’m not like you and I’ll never be like you! I’ll definitely be better than you.”
John roared, shoving Flynn away from him. Flynn stumbled backward and against his chair. He did not fall, using the dining room wall to support himself. Finally, Amelia stepped in, placing herself in between the pair of them to try and hold John back. The gesture did protect Flynn somewhat, but the fact that she wasn’t trying to actually shield him hurt him to the core. His anger became frigid and more calculated.
“Come on, John,” Flynn taunted. He took a few strides closer, forcing Amelia to work harder at holding the larger man at bay. “You’re always saying you want to hit me. Here’s your chance!”
“John,” his mother pleaded, practically dangling from her husband’s arm as he gently but aggressively moved her out of his way. “John, please -”
“Go on,” Flynn went on when John strode towards him once more. “I won’t stop you.” Unsurprisingly, his stepfather took a swing at him. Flynn was able to dodge the first hit, being much lighter and quicker, but the second lower blow at his abdomen made its mark. He doubled over, the wind knocked out of his lungs, allowing John to land a punch across his jaw. Flynn fell to the floor then, stars dancing before his eyes. He tried to get at his wand in his back pocket, but he was too dazed to find it in time. John yanked him up onto his feet by the collar, shoving him onto the table. Glasses and silverware and food went flying. Flynn could hear his mother screaming and footsteps as the butler and serving staff hurried to the scene.
Blood flowed, thick and warm, from his nose and he felt the tip of John’s wand pushing at the base of his throat. “Who’s the man now?” John snarled through gritted teeth. “Huh?!” He pressed the wood harder against Flynn’s windpipe. Several red sparks flew, singing the younger man’s skin. “Huh?!”
“John, stop!” At last, Amelia managed to pull her husband off of her son. She and John gazed at Flynn as he sat up from the carnage that had once been the dinner table, gravy and porcelain covering his form. Everyone wordlessly stared at him, the room only filled with the sounds of John’s labored breathing and falling shards of glass. “Flynn,” Amelia said as softly and calmly as if she was going to ask him to pass her the butter. “Go get cleaned up.”
Flynn stared at her. He didn’t even bother to wipe his face, forcing her to look at him with blood dripping down his chin and the bruise forming on his left cheek. But it didn’t seem to matter, however, as his mother had already turned away to dote on John. So he left the room, his heart aching just as much as his body.
Warning(s): Anxiety, panic attack (with descriptions of dry heaving)
Word Count: 1494
Character(s): Kyle Lucas
Summary: After internalizing the stress of taking on his first solo project at work, Kyle’s anxiety finally reaches a breaking point.
Using the following prompts by @creativepromptsforwriting:
Prompt #834: “Please, tell me this is an emergency.” “Well, maybe you wouldn’t see it as an emergency, but for me, it definitely is.”
Prompt #215: use the words pillow, bathtub, and music
Prompt #415: “I’d love to change the world. But I don’t know what to do.”
Permission to repost, @creativepromptfills.
Title credit to Humanoid by Tokio Hotel
Why was this happening? This couldn’t be happening. Not right here, not right now...
Kyle swallowed back the bile building in his throat for what felt like the hundredth time, his eyes clamped shut. His heart was pounding loudly in his ears, and yet it somehow wasn’t tumultuous enough to drown out the thoughts screaming on and on in his head. His own voice had become an endless metronome, repeating the same phrase that made him want to cry and scream: I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this… It was neverending. It felt like an eternity before he was able to open his eyes, staring back at his pale reflection in the mirror as he tried to not succumb to the madness.
Kyle wasn’t sure when the panic attack had begun, but he had a feeling that starting a new project at Level Seven a few days ago might have been a trigger. For the first time, he was to lead an actual Gobstone tournament from start to finish. He had to find the teams, pick the dates, and make sure the venue would be set to handle the predicted number of attendees. There was so much paperwork involved, numerous meetings to attend and plan… It was a wonder Kyle hadn’t snapped sooner. His anxiety had never been fully managed, just kept under wraps by the few coping mechanisms he had. And that typically involved keeping his workload reasonably light. Having Bea by his side also helped, but Kyle quickly decided that overwhelming her (or believing he was overwhelming her, anyway) only made him worry more. So lately he had chosen to internalize his stress, and perhaps one thing had just led to another.
So here he was, struggling to get through his Wednesday morning. Kyle had managed to leave his bed without a problem, but when he had tried to brush his teeth his stomach had started to revolt. Since it had been hours since Kyle had last eaten, there was nothing for him to spit up into the sink, but the gagging sensation was no less uncomfortable. Next came the trembling, his hands shaking as he felt his heart pounding hard against his sternum. And then the chanting.
I can’t do it… I can’t do it…
Kyle ran a hand through his hair, stumbling back to sit down on the toilet, his forehead growing damp. His breathing was ragged, mouth gradually filling again with saliva.
He had to get to work… He had so much to do… So much to finish…
I can’t do it, I can’t…
Kyle coughed, retching again. He spat clear saliva into the bathtub on his left, his vision blurring from the tightness in his throat. His own stomach seemed to be trying to escape his body, but was unfortunately just as much out of luck as the rest of him was. Kyle didn’t realize how much time had passed with him leaning over the edge of the tub until his phone beeped from the other room. Wiping his mouth and eyes on the back of his hand, he went to retrieve the magicked device to see a concerned text from Bea. She had every right to worry, as he had not met her for their usual walk to work. Kyle’s heart rate did not slow at the sight, reminded quickly about how behind he was. He was able to respond with an apology, stating that he had gotten caught up with some things the night before and would be coming in later. Kyle felt sorry for the lie, especially when he sent the same to his boss, but he knew it would help explain his delay for the time being.
His phone slipped listlessly from his fingers once he was finished. Despite having sort of put his lateness on hold, his mood had not improved in the slightest. Kyle grabbed a pillow from his bed, seeking something to hold as he melted onto the floor. His legs bounced restlessly, chin slumped into the cushion as he stared into the empty fireplace across from him. For a moment, Kyle had been able to imagine Bea waiting for him. He could feel the warmth of her fingers in his, letting the sound of her typical greeting clear his head and heart.
But unfortunately, it hadn’t taken long for his brain to resume its gloomy and gutting version of music: I can’t do it, I can’t, I can’t… The lamenting phrase immediately erased all other thoughts from his mind, imprisoning Kyle in darkness.
Mum… The voice was small, like that of a child, but Kyle knew it to be his own. I need my mum…
His eyes welled with tears at both the title it spoke and the sound, and at last, he felt compelled to do something. Kyle crawled forward to the little pot of Floo Powder by the fireplace. Somehow, he managed to light a fire, toss in a pinch of the powder, and speak his parents’ address into the colored flames that appeared. Kyle’s head swirled for a moment as it was transported, and then he could see the familiar Lucas kitchen. The sight made him feel a little bit better already, but his heart was still beating faster than it should. “Mum?” he called. He could smell his father’s breakfast and hear his tea simmering in the teapot, so they had to be home.
“Kyle?” His mother entered the room. “What’s the matter? Shouldn’t you be at work?” Her expression was very confused and worried. Just like with Bea, Kyle did not like to make her upset, but she was someone he felt he could turn to when he needed to. She was his mother, after all.
“Just needed a second to chat with you, Mum,” he blurted out. His eyes teared up again, but he could already feel himself starting to feel better as he said how he felt out loud. “I’ve been feeling… really stressed lately. I’ve had so much going on and -”
Kyle’s words caught in his throat as his father entered the room from behind his concerned wife. To his surprise and dismay, Owen Lucas’ response to his son’s sudden appearance was much different than Emma’s. A small hint of annoyance flashed across his features as he moved to the table, barely looking at Kyle. “Please, tell me this is an emergency,” he grumbled as he sat down. “I have to head out in five minutes.” He dug into his eggs and toast without waiting for a reply.
Kyle felt as if he was nothing more than something the cat had dragged in. It didn’t help that he hadn’t finished brushing his teeth, combed his hair, or gotten dressed for the day; nor that he was speaking to them from the floor in the fireplace. “Well,” he mumbled, his mouth feeling as if he had swallowed ash. “Maybe you wouldn’t see it as an emergency, but for me it definitely is.” He desperately wanted his father to see him as an independent adult and to be proud of him; but when Kyle had these moments of weakness, especially in front of him, he seemed to have no chance of doing so. He instantly regretted contacting his parents. He should have just handled this on his own. It would have passed after a few hours.
Kyle’s mother gave her head a small shake. “Don’t mind him,” she said, waving a hand at Owen. She knelt by the fireplace. “Now, what were you saying, Kyle? You’ve been having a stressful time?”
Kyle nodded. He tried his best to do as she said, although his feelings were still hurt by how his father was basically ignoring him. “I think I’ve been feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all,” he admitted. “I’d love to change the world. But I don’t know what to do. In school, they always said that we all would somehow and I’m trying -”
His father snorted. “Lofty goals there, boy.”
“You’re just going through a lot, sweetie,” Emma said quickly, forcing her son to look at her instead. She gave him a small pat on the head. “Why don’t you just go back to sleep for a little while and then maybe you’ll feel better? You’re just overthinking things. It happens to the best of us.”
Kyle wasn’t sure about that, but he also didn’t know what to say. “O-okay…”
“We’ll see you and Bea Sunday for tea, yes?”
“Of course, Mum.”
“Wonderful.” Emma pressed a kiss to his forehead before getting to her feet. “We’ll see you then.”
“Goodbye, Mum. Bye, Dad.” As Kyle pulled his head out of the flames, the fire died away. He sat back on his haunches, staring into the dying embers. It didn’t take him very long to realize that while his heart was no longer pounding, he did not feel much better. In fact, he felt more alone than ever.
Hey, can y’all rb this if it’s okay to send you messages asking about your ocs, cause on god I wanna interact with y’all but I am terrified of being annoying lol
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