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massimo:
eden dolohov: a seamstress massimo deemed to be more talented at mangling bodies than sewing pieces of cloths together. the grapple of her hands, though nimble and smaller in size compared to his, had the strength of a magnitude 9 earthquake. her touch automatically sent his mental walls to harden into thick slabs of concrete while his facial features skewed in reaction to her vehement inquiry. “it’s just the beginning, and you’ve already lost your wits… was your grand debut not up to par with the story you drew in your head ? —no, it must’ve slipped lestrange’s interesting mind to tell anyone of her plans.”
the young wizard might have brought believable justice to both roles he juggled, but the death eaters were truly his people. he didn’t have to stray too far from home to find common ground. despite his growing betrayal towards the masked clan, their night-tide souls, and their head-on determination to conquer destruction rather than fearing collapse… he respected it, he identified with it all. a gaping hole could be discovered where his moral compass should be and the relentless crimson found in them was the same darkness that rotted his core, too. massimo rossa was a far cry from a saving grace, he was no valiant hero for the human race. but he wanted to win.
a quick swivel of his hips allowed the ink cloak to be released from eden’s chain. with a tug and a paw, he flattened any imprint on the thick fabric and returned his gaze to the older woman, releasing a pent-up breath. “as delicious as your theatrics can be, spare me the tantrum. you’ll have another chance at whatever it is you missed tonight.”
eden felt her anger surge anew — who did this no-name think he was? her teeth audibly clacked as she ground them together for a moment, considering whether it was worth it to throw a stinging jinx at the young wizard’s face and be done with it. “oh, fuck you, i’ve been part of this since you were in nappies, crying out for mummy.” his robes now out of her reach, the witch busied herself with adjusting her own. a flick of her wand and — yes, they were back to the masculine-cut suit she was wearing at the beginning of the night. if any ministry official came across her tonight, they would assume her to be part of the wayward crowd, an innocent bystander.
there was a small amount of satisfaction found in knowing that she wasn’t the only one in their ranks who was left out of the loop tonight. “you don’t know what it was like in the real beginning, when she was still rebuilding our numbers, tracking down the deserters and evading capture.” she remembered those days well: bellatrix’s manic visits to the dolohov estate at wee hours, her grandfather running her through drills of his favorite curses until she couldn’t keep her eyes open. “all that work, and her idea of a grand return to the public consciousness is a glorified pyrotechnics display. that’s what frustrates me, massimo. how slow it all is, not whether i get any glory.” that was an outright lie, but he didn’t need to know about her personal ambitions.
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corvus:
In the midst of the chaos, he had managed to slip away. Report back how many have fallen and who of importance was affected. Instructions were clear. Corvus had played the victim. Allowed himself to get hurt. Let people believe that he had been shocked. Surprised. Sad even. He had returned however to where he was instructed to give the full report he was asked. Corvus had to sneak away now though without being seen and make his way back. He was taken back when someone grabbed him suddenly. He pulled his wand out and pointed it in the direction that he was grabbed when he saw familiar face and then lowered his wand. “Yes.” He responded without much expression. He set his wand back in his pocket and then looked her over. “You’re upset.” It wasn’t a question but more of a statement. “Did you think that you were going to play some big role? This is only the beginning, y’know. It’s not going to be the first or the last time it happens. There’s obviously more. Why are you so upset?”
“First time for you, maybe,” Eden bit back. “Pardon me if I’m a little put out with the mad woman whose bidding I’ve done for half my bloody life. You know who suggested using Polyjuice to kill Potter? Me. I broke into the Chamber of Secrets as a third year to get her basilisk venom. I’ve killed for her more times than I can count. I believe I’ve earned a modicum of respect, Corvus. If the Dark Lord were here, he’d...” Reward me. Validate me. She shook her head. There was no sense in trying to explain her feelings to the younger wizard — people rarely took her words seriously, unless they were a threat.
The gnarled branches overhead rattled in the wind. If she concentrated, Eden could hear the crackling of fires from their curses that had yet to be put out. “Bet she told that disgusting wretch of a werewolf her plans, too. Do I honestly rank lower than Greyback?”
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where: edge of the forbidden forest when: september 17th, post-death eater attack (around 9:30pm) who: eden + open to any death eater
“just what.” eden clawed frantically at her face to dismiss the glamour holding her grey mask in place. it fell to the muddy ground with a soft ‘plop’! “the bloody fuck.” summoned the mask back into her hands and twisted the terrifying visage once, twice, three times in her hands. a small part of her wanted to hurl it at the whomping willow. “was that?!”
she was accustomed to instruction - her grandfather, her teacher of dark magic since her youth, was very particular. thorough. bellatrix could be those things when she wanted to be, but tonight was chaos — and not the good kind. she’d been yearning for the chance to show off her skills in public for years now, not just in sporadic missions directed from the shadows. if she was to be a death eater in the fullest sense of the term, she wanted the assured destruction and rush of power that came with it. instead, she got a last-minute summons to a trite debate and no directive as to whom she should target. oh, she’d slung spells like she was born for it, of course, slashed the common folk down where they stood. she hoped they hurt, she hoped they feared her. but eden couldn’t rightly say she’d accomplished anything tonight, and that fact annoyed her to no end.
she grasped the robes of the nearest black-clad colleague she could find. anger seeped into her every word: “did she tell you that she was going to pull that stunt?!”
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where: outskirts of hogsmede village when: just after the attack, 8:30-ish? who: venus & z
she wasn’t sure which was worse: the attack, or its aftermath.
there were no bodies recovered from the quidditch pitch (yet, her mind helpfully supplied. a macabre little brain-version of the popup windows that showed up on the library computers near her flat), but dozens of wix were scattered about, looking for their families. some shouted names, over and over, their voices hoarse. there were little ones, clutching the robes of strangers, their wailing having long since turned to hiccuping sobs. and there were mothers - so many of them, clutching at their hair or rocking back and forth or standing with their mouths pressed into a hard line.
venus knew, logically, that she didn’t have to stay here, but something rooted her to the spot as she stared at the mums searching for their children in the darkened cobblestone streets. there was a quiet yearning in her heart, and that was strange, because why would she want someone to be looking for—?
oh. she wanted her mum to be looking for her.
but xuan flint was not here (or if she was, she was hastily making her way home, not looking for her eldest only disowned daughter). venus pushed those feelings down deep and began to make her way to the nearest apparition point — when she spied a familiar dark head of hair. he wasn’t xuan, but he was still maybe family dear to her.
“z?!” venus called. she could make for a pretty convincing ‘concerned parent’ herself. “z, what the fuck? are you alright!?”
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rcxiewevsley:
location: hogwarts stadium september 17th, 20:00 hours
Growing up, Roxanne had always heard about war stories but she never assumed that she would live through one. Who does, right? Roxanne was one of the hit wix that was assigned to the scene to try and arrest any death eaters that could be captured for questioning or to just bring them in to answer for their crimes. Roxanne managed to knock one down already as she walked through to see if there was another one that she could take down, her eyes scanned the scene. Healers were rushing around and she wished she could help but her hands were never good with fixing anything. She could hear the screaming and there were people running around in attempts to flee or maybe in a panic.
She wasn’t sure. Roxanne stopped when someone darted in front of her and she put her hands up to calm them considering they took a step back in fear more than likely. “Hey– you’re safe.” She was never good with words but she hoped they believed her at least. Not many people trusted werewolves but she hoped that wasn’t the case with them.
he had to laugh. he was pretty sure he was laughing as soon as he heard bellatrix’s voice (great-aunt bellatrix, gaunt and imposing in the one faded photograph he could find snooping in grandmother’s things-bellatrix, that one). he had to laugh because it otherwise meant acknowledging the tremor in his fingers and the pit in his stomach. that woman haunted his family despite still living. dad never talked about her, but every time the prophet reported on her whereabouts his eyes would grow stormy and his mouth would set into a hard line. bellatrix was the bogeyman of his childhood, the spectre and shame that hung over the malfoys like a dark cloud. as long as she was out there, there was the potential to draw them into her maelstrom of hate and violence -- or make them victims of it.
and then he had to laugh again, because he’d found the wrong weasley family member in his mad dash around the quidditch pitch. he knew roxanne the way he knew most of his school mates - by name, but not much else. one did not have to know much about another person to have a delightful romp at a party (or in bed) with them. still, he’d done neither with this woman, so he imagined that his frantic look read as panic to her - when in reality, things were just VERY FUNNY! (or so he kept telling himself).
“Yes yes, I’m fairly sure I’m no death eater and you’re no death eater. Have you seen your cousin? The bespectacled, middle-child one.”
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{cis woman, she/her} ❝ A fire, a fire is burning! I hear the boot of Lucifer, I see his filthy face! ❞ huh, who’s ZAZIE BEETZ? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually EDEN DOLOHOV. she is a 31 year old PUREBLOOD witch who is a SEAMSTRESS FOR TWILFITT AND TATTINGS. she is known for being APATHETIC, DISCOURTEOUS, ARROGANT, DISHONEST, & BIASED but also TOUGH, FOCUSED, PERCEPTIVE, SKILLFUL, & DECISIVE, so that must be why she always reminds me of the song BLOODY MARY BY LADY GAGA and DANCING IN A CROWDED NIGHTCLUB, MUSCLE ACHES AFTER A LONG RUN, TOUCHING UP YESTERDAY’S EYELINER, THE TANG OF FRESH LIME JUICE, BURNING YOUR FINGER ON HOT CANDLE WAX. i hear she is aligned with THE DEATH EATERS, so be sure to keep an eye on her. (CLICK HERE FOR INTRO)
#potter intro#* ' eden.#// if you've seen this intro before no u haven't. forget it and experience it again for the first time
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‘ i asked you not to leave several times . ’ [ lorcan to scorpius ]
" and you know i don't like to listen! i think this one's on you," scorpius replies. only the top of his blonde head is visible from behind the boulder he has chosen as his refuge, while lorcan is mere feet from the hissing ashwinder that sprung forth from the dying embers of their bonfire. " besides, your family literally wrote the book on these things. i shall stay here and eat these marshmallows, you can deal with the fire snake, and then we can go home and pretend you never convinced me to come camping in the first place. honestly, no malfoy has slept outside since the french revolution! we shouldn't start now!"
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Get to know the people in my muse’s life.
Send me a symbol and I’ll tell you about…
🌟 …someone my muse trusts. 💔 …someone who broke my muse’s heart. 💕 …someone my muse loves. 😒 …someone my muse hates. 🔥…someone my muse would die for. 💀 …someone my muse would kill for. 👻 …someone my muse considers a best friend. 💘 …someone my muse has a crush on. 🔪 …someone my muse hurt in the past. 👀 …someone my muse likes, but doesn’t trust. 💩 …someone my muse dislikes, but admires. 👿 …someone my muse used to like, but doesn’t anymore. 😉 …someone my muse has had sex with. 💋 …someone my muse used to date. 😜 …someone who makes my muse laugh. 👪 …someone in my muse’s family. 👑 …someone my muse is jealous of. 👊 …someone who hates my muse. 👫 …someone who has a crush on my muse. 👌 …someone my muse has only met once, but will never forget. 🍓…someone my muse has never met, but wants to meet. 👰 …someone my muse would consider marrying.
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𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞 : 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔
‘ i’ll find you again , wherever we end up next . ’
‘ the enormity of my desire disgusts me . ’
‘ please , one more kiss in the kitchen before we turn the lights off . ’
‘ i’ve been lost but i’m here now . you’re the only person who has ever been able to find me . ’
‘ almost dead yesterday , maybe dead tomorrow , but alive , gloriously alive , today . ’
‘ you are not broken . ’
‘ you can love and be loved , despite what may feel like the eternally brutal nature of the world . ’
‘ i did violence to my own heart . ’
‘ will i be forgiven for the sins i did not commit , but created ? ’
‘ i would never kiss anyone who doesn’t burn me like the sun . ’
‘ i would rather break the world than lose you . ’
‘ i think you and i have known each other in a few lifetimes . ’
‘ i didn’t know . i had no idea how greedy my heart really was . ’
‘ is that why the idea of losing you torments me so much ? ’
‘ how long have i been without you ? ’
‘ am i foolish for wanting this ? it will end in flames . it always does . ’
‘ sorry about the blood in your mouth . i wish it was mine . ’
‘ if i love you , is that a fact or a weapon ? ’
‘ tell me how all this , and love too , will ruin us . ’
‘ and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be . ’
‘ it cannot be a mistake to have cared . it cannot be an error to have tried . it cannot be incorrect to have loved . ’
‘ finally , i plead guilty of adoring you . ’
‘ a child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort . ’
‘ without realizing , i find it in myself that i cannot stop thinking about you . ’
‘ tomorrow , when i wake up , i promise , i will be better . ’
‘ someone has to leave first . this is a very old story . there is no other version of this story . ’
‘ when i imagine myself , i am always leaving . i couldn’t draw my own face if god asked . ’
‘ do we simply stare at what’s horrible and forgive it ? ’
‘ i wanted to let go of the pain even though it was the last thing that felt alive from you . ’
‘ have i endured loneliness with grace ? ’
‘ i’ll be your slaughterhouse , your killing floor , your morgue and final resting , walking around with this bullet inside me ‘cause i couldn’t make you love me and i am tired of pulling your teeth . ’
‘ and then my soul saw you and kind of went , ‘ oh , there you are . i’ve been looking for you . ’ ’
‘ sometimes it feels like someone else is wearing my body . ’
‘ i spent my life arguing how i mattered until it didn’t matter . ’
‘ who knew my haven would be my coffin ? ’
‘ dead is the safest i’ve ever been . ’
‘ i’ve never been so alive . ’
‘ you know what i was gonna tell you before , but didn’t have the nerve ? you got your name written all over me . i got my name written on you , too . ’
‘ you already are something . you always were . and you still have time to be . ’
‘ you know me by heart . it infuriates me that you know me by heart . ’
‘ why am i waiting for you ? hungering and thirsting for you in every cranny of my soul and even in my ribs ? ’
‘ you came with a handful of pain and a smile which broke the ground under my feet as the earthquake does when two people meet . ’
‘ the only good thing is that i’m getting used to suffering . ’
‘ the return to time was not my choice . ’
‘ we are built to live inside each other . this means we are built to ruin . ’
‘ time does not bring relief ; you all have lied . ’
‘ time does not know how to keep our hopes safe . ’
‘ you needed me so much that you had to end me . ’
‘ there are days where i am morbidly in love with you , and this is one of those days . ’
‘ i know no end to desiring you . ’
‘ i fear that i am both too much yet not enough . ’
‘ yes , yes , yes , i do like you . i am afraid to say the stronger word . ’
‘ a heart’s a heavy burden . ’
‘ life , as i see it , is all about farewells rather than reunions . ’
‘ heaven is real and you only had two minutes to prove it to me . ’
‘ it was already love . ’
‘ everyone desires love but also finds it impossible to believe that they deserve it . ’
‘ i’ll love you until i forget how to . ’
‘ i’ll love you until i forget how to and then i’ll fall like my knees aren’t already bruised from doing it and i’ll remember why you’re worth the ache . ’
‘ of course i’ll hurt you . of course you’ll hurt me . of course we’ll hurt each other . but this is the very condition of existence . ’
‘ nothing makes me sadder and nothing makes me happier than you . ’
‘ i love you and i do not want to love you , it is too much and too difficult . ’
‘ grief is just love with no place to go . ’
‘ i felt my life with both my hands to see if it was there . ’
‘ you do this , you do . you take the things you love and you tear them apart . ’
‘ i hope it’s love . i’m trying really hard to make it love . ’
‘ if you touch me again i might burn up in the cold air . ’
‘ i asked you not to leave several times . ’
‘ i’ve only adored you lifetimes ago and here we are . it’s nice to see you again . ’
‘ all time ever does is pass and all i ever do is remember . ’
‘ i feel as though we were never strangers , you and i , not even for a moment . ’
‘ i’d choose you ; in a hundred different lifetimes , in a hundred worlds , in any version of reality , i’d find you and i’d choose you . ’
‘ nothing about this is soft but we pretend . ’
‘ maybe you and i are just a dream . ’
‘ i know you loved me too , you knew me , and it gladdens my heart . ’
‘ i promise i shall never give up and that i’ll die yelling and laughing . ’
‘ i don’t do anything with my life except romanticize and decay with indecision . ’
‘ the world was made so that we could find each other in it . ’
‘ you don’t meet the people you love , you recognize them . ’
‘ i think you and i have known each other a few lifetimes . ’
‘ this body knows fear like a front porch knows welcome – it is always coming home . ’
‘ i miss you more than i remember you . ’
‘ if i could have done it all again , i would have loved you better . but i could not have loved you more . ’
‘ we could have been happy . i know that , and it is perhaps the hardest thing to know . ’
‘ you want a better story . who wouldn’t ? ’
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al:
al would never complain about the extent of those he cares about with seriousness. he’s fortunate, to have had so many people in his life. fortunate that at hogwarts half the bloody school shared in his good news, whenever he might’ve had it. the problem lies in the way they must share the bad, too. the name potter may be rare enough, but his family extends far past it, and there’s a terribly large chance the majority of them would choose to run headfirst into danger rather than away from it. al’s in no place to judge, given the very nature of his career, but it’s not exactly the most comforting bit of information.
if there is one person he trusts to do exactly what al would want him to, one thing that brings him a shred of relief, it’s the knowledge that his best friend is nothing if not wholly unwilling to ruin an outfit he previously referred to as an experience. he’s distinctly confident scorpius has found his way to safety, let the flow of the crowd drag him somewhere he can’t be hurt. it is, of course, drained in an instant - even otherwise engaged, al would recognize his voice anywhere.
scorpius crumpling is a sight that won’t leave his head for quite some time. awful, and motivating; the next flash of light from his wand sends two pesky opponents knocking into each other with a crack. it’s satisfying, al won’t pretend otherwise. most importantly, it gives him the time to rush right to scorpius’ side.
❛ you were supposed to leave. ❜ he tsks, gentle and disapproving in the same breath. his free hand flutters around scorpius, undecided on where he wants to touch: first at his elbow, then fingers carding through blonde hair, to a grasp at the nape of his neck that wets his palm in what he suspects must be deep red without looking. he can’t do anything without a hint of protection, and so that becomes the priority. before he begins a shield incantation, he glances back. ❛ do keep talking, i’ll have a fit if you faint. ❜
he may be bleeding from the head, but scorpius has enough of his wits about him to recognize that tone - reproachful but caring all in one - and make a quip in response to al’s concern: “oh, i should hate to be so predictable.” grinning, as if he were having tea in the garden instead of bleeding all over the ground (and his coat!). at the sight of al’s glistening red hand, he attempts to use his wand to conjure a handkerchief, only to produce a tea towel. perhaps he is concussed.
he presses the cloth gingerly to his wound (his wound, he has a head wound) and with his free hand, lifts his wand to add to al’s shield. the ground is spinspinspinning beneath him, though, and he quickly abandons the notion. do keep talking, al said. he could do that much. “and i can’t let auntie bella have all the fun! did you know i once found her wedding album in the manor? she looked awful. silk taffeta gown with this high, absolutely unforgiving neck, long sleeves, a train that stretched halfway to siberia.”
there’s a tingle shooting up his spine - it’s fear, he realizes, not nerve damage - and he moves to clutch at the back of al’s shirt. it’s grounding. i’m not alone. i’m not alone. i’m not alone. he resists the urge to rest his head on the other man’s shoulder and takes deep breaths. he’s swaying a bit with the effort to stay upright, but scorpius is determined to make it out of this quidditch pitch of his own accord. “this is all very fun and you look very dashing being a hero and all, but do you see a way out?”
#* ' scorpius: writer | aesthete | troubled | foolish.#* ' ch. al potter#* ' event. minister debate#blood tw#injury tw#///would have liked to make this longer but i'm boarding a flight!
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victoriocus:
location: hogwarts stadium
date: 17th september, time: 20:00
shaky legs listlessly limped around, hands dyed with crimson, staining and saturating her dress with blood as wide eyes were searching for something, someone. if she stopped moving, she’d probably have given in, allowing the thick air to pierce into her mind, clouding it with guilt instead of reason. amidst all the chaos, she wondered how a split moment of panic fueled by adrenaline tricked her into forgetting about the fragility of life. drawing her wand with the intention to hurt someone, without a doubt. without any mercy. despite the attacker being a death eater.
“ i need you to help me ! ” victoire begged, her voice swollen with desperation. “ we need to get them out here as well. ” she said, pointing at the unconscious person.
start, stop, stumble. start, stop, duck, shuffle. of course venus would find herself in the most congested area at a moment of danger. there were the screams of course - each of them bone-chilling. but the hands. the young woman felt like she was being shoved from all sides, across every inch of her body. she was being swallowed whole by the terror, it would consume her if she couldn’t make it out of here soon. there was a break in the crowd just up ahead - which was odd, but she didn’t have the time to question it. she sprinted for that space, hoping that she could gather her bearings long enough to find an exit --
only to find a girl hunched over a bloodied mass on the ground, begging for help. she clocked the hooded robes, the mask, and shook her head. death eater.
“are you fucking mental?” venus shouted over the din. she grabbed the woman’s upper arm - it was a weasley, victoria? vivian? - and tugged. “you’re lucky you’re not dead! get your shit together and move, princess!”
#* ' venus: family shame | headstrong woman | angry as shit#* ' ch. victoire weasley#ableism tw#blood tw#death tw
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location: hogwarts quidditch pitch date: sept. 17, 2029, 8:13pm who: scorpius & al
scorpius malfoy was never too proud to turn tail from danger. he was the only son and heir of his family - and liked being alive, mind you - and he was usually wearing something elaborate, dashing, and uncomfortable to fight in. he left the heroics to the heroic people, was content to let others fight battles with their wands and fists while he chose the written word. this worked for him. this was the system.
but then al potter had to go and become an auror and muck it all up. oh, he threw a fantastic fit when his best friend informed him of his intended career, complete with foot stomping and voice-raising and the silent treatment. because now, he had to care. now, he had to scan the daily prophet and pray to gods he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t find al’s name in the death announcements. now he had to hold his breath every time he opened a letter from lily, for fear of terrible, terrible news. and now, right now, he was pushing past the terrified masses, into the danger, to go and find him, clasp his shoulder, make sure he was breathing and alive and whole.
he’d just reached an area in the ravenclaw box that was lit up with dueling spells when he spotted the characteristic brown hair and glasses. relief flooded his insides, and he shouted: “AL! AL POTTER! ALBU--”
thwack!
scorpius was thrust forward by some force - a misplaced elbow or a knockback jinx, he couldn’t tell - that hit the back of his head. his vision flickered in and out of focus as he fell to his knees, whole body growing warm. something wet trickled under the starched collar of his shirt.
“al potter,” he spoke again, this time much softer. “i do believe i am concussed.”
#* ' scorpius: writer | aesthete | troubled | foolish.#* ' ch. al potter#* ' event. minister debate#violence tw#injury tw#blood tw
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{ cis man, he/him } ❝ i can resist everything, except temptation. ❞ huh, who’s HANSOL “VERNON” CHWE? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually SCORPIUS MALFOY. he always reminds me of the song THE CULT OF DIONYSUS BY THE ORION EXPERIENCE and THE MARC JACOBS’ 2015 GLOSS PARTY DRESS CODE, TALKING WITH YOUR HANDS, WIPING GLITTER FROM THE BATHROOM SINK, WRAPPING YOURSELF IN A WARM DUVET, DRINKING WINE WITH LUNCH. i hear he is aligned with the ORDER OF THE PHOENIX, so be sure to keep an eye on him.
character inspiration: oscar wilde, david rose (schitt’s creek), keeley jones (ted lasso), tahani al-jamil (the good place), david bowie, richie rich, freddie mercury, lito rodriguez (sense8), glam rock. ------------------------------------------------------ tw for alcoholism/addiction under the cut.
BASICS
name: scorpius han-wool (한울) malfoy
nickname: absolutely detests nicknames. it’s scorpius or nothing.
age: twenty-three
sexual / romantic orientation: pansexual / panromantic
former house: ravenclaw
affiliation: the order of the phoenix
occupation: culture writer/reporter for teen wix weekly, essayist, published author
family: draco malfoy (father), astoria greengrass (mother, deceased), daphne greengrass (maternal aunt), remy greengrass (maternal cousin)
PHYSICAL
hair: (dyed) blonde
eyes: brown
height: 5′11
notable characteristics: clear, often glowing skin, meticulously styled hair. often wears very colorful clothing in stylish cuts and silhouettes. loves a good sparkle or shine via embroidery or stones. consistently wears multiple rings on both hands, and diamond stud earrings in both ears.
MAGICAL
wand: willow, unicorn hair, ten inches, bendy
patronus: swan
boggart: himself, deep in the throes of alcoholism / addiction
amortentia: clean sheets, crisp mountain air in winter, apple blossom candles, yuzu jam
magical strengths: charms, transfiguration, astronomy, alchemy, history of magic.
magical weaknesses: potions, care of magical creatures, herbology
PERSONALITY
oh, my darling boy. my perfect lad. my sweet meow meow.
scorpius has draco’s penchant for drama (ie. falling to pieces whenever he so much as gets a scratch or sniffle, loudly protesting against doing anything unpleasant, being loud and obnoxious to get people’s attention) but very little of his childhood politics. he’s spoiled beyond belief, wants to be the center of attention, and name-drops like nobody’s business, but that’s because he’s an aesthete with taste, thank you, not a schoolyard bully.
he writes monthly articles for teen wix weekly, an offshoot of witch weekly, which i would say is analogous with teen vogue in terms of its combination of leftist political leanings and fashion/lifestyle. his writing is acerbic, witty, and highly opinionated. he’s also published a book of humorous personal essays and observations, titled ‘lessons in bad faith: how i became the family disappointment’. lucius doesn’t talk to him at sunday dinners anymore.
boy’s got an issue with partying - it comes from a childhood of being raised away from pureblood peers since his mother didn’t want those negative influences around him, away from any other magical families because of all the bridges draco burned in school, and away from muggle children because while his parents didn’t profess hatred towards non-magical folks, their world was still strange and unfamiliar. so he grew up alone, and deeply lonely, and once he hit hogwarts + adulthood has been chasing the feelings of friendship and being wanted ever since. that, coupled with his life of financial excess and overindulgence has led to something of an alcohol dependence. but it’s fine, really.
despite what some may think of his flamboyance and penchant for fine clothes, he is attracted to and dates people from across the gender and sexuality spectrum. he loves to be loved! what i cannot stress enough though is that the boy is a bottom.
mama’s boy. misses her like mad all the time; likes to keep one of her rings on a chain around his neck.
loves his dad, but often feels like they live on two different planets. totally doesn’t have a complex about wanting to make him proud.
ravenclaw!!! while scorpius strives for perfection and is fairly ambitious in that sense, he doesn’t desire to be the best in everything and doesn’t necessarily aspire to control + power, merely wants to be universally beloved for his talents. ie. - hates trying new things and being bad at them. first time draco put him on a broom he crashed into a tree. threw a fit during 1st year flying lessons and got himself excused.
thinks quidditch is a right bore because the players’ uniforms ought to be shorts and a crop top
has perfected the art of shit-talking to the point where you might not even realize he’s insulting you to your face
will send his order back to the kitchen if it’s wrong
favorite pasttime is wrapping himself in a giant duvet and eating cadbury creme eggs
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hey good morning, I’m never wrong
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