#Literally the culmination of the entire anime is them stopping Father from wiping out an entire country just to gain the powers of ‘god’

[shima-draws]

Seething at one of the tags on that poll saying FMA is a military + genocide apologist anime have you even WATCHED it

[xadoheandterra]

Title: Fait Accompli Fandom: Harry Potter, Assassins Creed Characters: Petunia Durlsey, Lily Potter Warnings: emotional manipulation, heavily implied eugenics, misuse of science, heavily implied mental manipulation, implied child abuse, character death Parts: I | II | III Summary:  Petunia Dursley neé Evans had a lot of regrets in her life. Her sister, their estrangement, her marriage. This, she determined, would not be one of them. Notes: This was literally the first Assassin’s Creed fanfiction idea I ever had, and it was a crossover. This idea initially came to me when I started to play the first Assassin’s Creed in a build up anticipation for Odyssey. I had a hard time writing it originally so I scrapped it. I worked on Dreaming Bitter Darkly instead after Odyssey came out and that became my first Assassin’s Creed fic. Needless to say this isn’t going to be an emotionally happy story. At all. Petunia is not a nice woman, and this is 100% from her point of view. I do have a “sequel” planned, or rather a series of 3 stories that will take place. This and it’s two parts (still being written) and another short story that technically takes place at the same time, to set up the background for the story that I wanted to write originally.

I’m still not sure how it’ll go, but I figured I’d put this mess out there.

The door to the house stood in front of her like a threat. Petunia clutched at her small bag with tight fingers and tried to build up the courage to knock. She could hear inside the sounds of children and felt tears sting at the edge of her eyes.

Petunia Dursley neé Evans had a lot of regrets in her life. Her sister, their estrangement, her marriage. This, she determined, would not be one of them. With a deep breath Petunia took a step forward, and knocked.

When Lily entered into her small family all Petunia knew was love. She loved her little sister with bright green eyes and red-as-blood hair. She loved her mother for whom she took most after—blond, wisp-thin, with sea-glass for eyes and tall enough to drive most men mad. She loved her father that little pretty Lily took after the most. She loved her Uncles that came to visit and check upon their family, and she loved their ever so perfect life.

Petunia was full of love, and she excited in it. What more could a family as theirs do anything but love?

Lily was five when the family moved to Cokeworth. It started when Lily began to display the gifts. Petunia had only just been introduced to their Uncle in a far more formal matter and explained how important these gifts—hers, and especially Lily’s—were. The family was a small section of a larger group that focused exclusively on pairing off children to bring out traits. Traits like Petunia’s, or like Lily’s. After years and years of genetic research it all seemed to culminate into one major success—Lily.

“You have to keep her safe, Petunia,” her Uncle said softly. “They will try to turn her mind. Keep her focused on the path ahead. Let the Father of Understanding guide you, in this, as the Father of Understanding has guided your parents.”

Petunia took to her job seriously. She dogged Lily’s steps, kept a watchful eye on her sister, and while she faced homeschooling so that she could understand how to use her own gifts and just what the Project their family had been a part of this whole time meant, none of Petunia’s love abated. In secret she whispered truths to Lily about the world.

We are not the first to walk here, Petunia told her. But we are special, Lily-flower. She spoke to Lily about the things their parents taught her—how their family had been born out of a necessity. Long ago, they said, there was a power in this world like none other. Humanity hated this power, hated the things it can do, and fought back. What was once peace became chaos, where there was order now disarray took its place. Violence and bloodshed became humanities tools of the trade. In silence the powers shifted, and then fled, and then vanished altogether to be lost to time.

Lily liked the stories Petunia would tell her, and she kept them secret. Petunia spoke of their Uncle and their job as sisters—Petunia to keep Lily safe, to keep her protected from those who would use her to incite chaos and disorder—and Lily’s to find out what had been stolen from them. They were special, mum and dad said. They were brilliant, bright children with the right gifts born at the right time.

The world is going to end if we don’t do something about it, Petunia whispered. Will you help me?

Yes, Tuney. Always.

Lily was eleven when the letter came, as they expected. Cokeworth had a family that they’d kept a close eye on, one that had been picked for Lily to get close to and she’d succeeded. Petunia disliked the Severus boy. Something about him always rubbed her wrong, but she let the family ruling stand firm because without Severus then the chances that Lily would have gotten her letter—they could never be certain of it. They needed Severus to see her gifts, maybe go running to his mum, and that would put into motion the fact that Lily existed.

Lily wasn’t born the same way others were, after all, and Petunia knew that just as Lily did. Just as Petunia hadn’t been born the same way, or their mum, or their dad. They were the pride and joy of their Uncles, proof concept of the work they tried to replicate. Through them hopefully they could find a means to push peace and order—and stop the death of the world that threatened to come.

Lily though, Lily worried, and so did Petunia. The plans they’d laid came to fruition and soon Lily would be off to school, off to learn fantastical new ways to control her abilities—ways that were old as much as they were new, because they’d been around since before the First or so their Uncles theorized. Lily worried what this could mean. Soon she’d step into a society so far removed from their own. Could they really turn her mind?

What if they lead me astray?

I won’t let them, flower. I promise.

But what if?

Then I’ll turn you back.

Their Uncles were proud of them, their parents were proud of them, and with the letter discussion turned toward the next steps in the plan. Lily would infiltrate the society, take the knowledge, learn enough that they could use what they have left over. How much had changed since the First? Were they even the same? No one had a chance to learn, this ‘wizarding world’ was so far tight lipped that even the few spies they’d been able to get close were still rebuffed. They had a plan though, a plan that hinged entirely on Petunia and Lily and their sister act.

“You need to sell it,” their Uncle said softly. “Sell that Lily is one of them. That you are not.”

I am though, Petunia wanted to say. She had the gifts too! They were different, she wasn’t as true as Lily was, but that didn’t make her any less than Lily.

“You are perfect, Petunia. They don’t need to know that.”

So they worked together, made this act where Lily spoke as if Petunia began to resent her, hate her, and Petunia played it up. During the summer hols when Lily came home if that blasted Severus boy were around Petunia played jealous and bitter.

Until everything went wrong.

Petunia was in her late teens to early twenties and she’d been sent to work at Grunnings as a secretary. They wanted her to pick a potential husband from a group of people with the right genetic line to create more children like Lily. Petunia was close to perfection, and in some respects was perfection, but Lily wasn’t enough and their Uncles wanted more. Lily—sweet Lily was just a teen, alone in a world that made no sense while it made too much sense all at once.

It is fascinating, Tuney, the things they do!

But…wizards? Really?

Well…it has been so long, hasn’t it? Maybe they’ve just forgotten?

That’s not possible. They have to be lying.

Then one day Lily came home for the summer hols and Petunia came to visit and found her little sister in complete shambles. They worked hard to build Severus up to her potential husband and he’d done the unforgiveable—thrown it away, in her face, and treated her as worth less than dirt. Petunia tried to rebuild Lily’s shattered sense of self, but nothing worked. Their Uncles wanted her in London, wanted her to continue the family line. Lily had things well in hand.

I’ve got this, Tuney. I…I have this.

Are you sure?

Yes. Yes, I’m sure.

Petunia worried, because Lily began to speak to her less and less. Before she’d talk fascinating things about this ‘wizard world’ and the innovations they created, and yet disparage against them because supposedly they thought of humans so far behind that it was laughable. Humans learned and adapted—they weren’t animals, and sure they needed guiding but this? This was foolish. Of course there’d also been whispers, something of a ‘dark lord’ that wanted to wipe out humanity or enslave it.

Isn’t that what we are doing, kind of? Enslaving people?

No. No we are making peace Lily. Everyone has their own minds, still, just…no more violence. Or war. And in peace we can stop the Fall from happening again! Don’t you want that?

…I hate war, Tuney.

So do I.

Before Petunia knew it her little sister was close to graduating and speaking of things that made no sense. She came home and introduced her new boyfriend—not Severus, but some strange bloke called James—and Petunia felt as if her world began to shatter. She hated her life as it was. There was so little Lily and instead this new and large man, Vernon, that wasn’t quite what she wanted. He made her feel small and Petunia hated it, but her Uncles felt as if he had the right mix for their work. They needed her to draw him to their way of thinking.

It was the only time in Petunia’s life that she considered her Uncles to be flawed. Still, at least James seemed to be good looking although the way his eyes looked in certain light—amber, like a cats or a bird of prey almost—left Petunia shivering. It made her feel as if she weren’t the beauty of her childhood, and while she knew that to most her long-limbed form was unappealing, she also knew she was a radiant creature when she put her mind to it.

A year later and Petunia got married to Vernon. She invited her sister, her sister’s boyfriend, and that was the end of the line. James was a cruel and capricious man that ruined her wedding and Petunia—Petunia had enough.

The last time Petunia saw Lily was just after Lily’s son came into the world. Petunia took her Dudley, a round creature that resembled his father and held none of the gifts that she or Lily had, and went to a local café. Lily met her there, alone, with her little Harry. They were two sisters with their sons meeting for a simple lunch, except in their family nothing was ever so simple.

Petunia sipped on tea. Lily had some sweet sort of scone that she nibbled on.

“Does your husband know?” Petunia asked and set her cup down.

“No,” Lily said softly. “He thinks I’m researching for our son’s safety.”

Petunia didn’t believe her. Once they would’ve whispered secrets back and forth to one another, given each other smiles, and Petunia would’ve felt that little bud of warmth in her chest. Now she felt coldness, distance, and a frigidity that Lily never once before gave her. They went back to tea and scones and kept the conversation to light topics for a while longer. Petunia left; she didn’t have much time available. Vernon would expect her home.

“May the Father of Understanding guide you,” Petunia murmured.

“…yes,” Lily replied, distracted, focused on her son, and the gap between them widened further.

On November 1st, 1980 Petunia Dursley neé Evans stepped out to get the morning milk. There on her doorstep she found a small babe bundled up tightly, with a letter, forgotten on her front porch. The thing was asleep, thank heavens, as Petunia picked the child up. She left the milk for the moment and catered to the child. Who would be so foolish to leave something precious on the front stoop, as if a child weren’t a precious sight to behold.

Petunia rocked the babe gently as she moved into the sitting room and picked the letter up and out. The handwriting looked familiar, and Petunia felt a sinking feeling deep within her gut. Cautiously she peeled back the blanket so that she could see more of the child and her hand shook. She recognized the dark skin, and while the scar above the brow was new, she knew this babe.

Lily’s babe.

Petunia stared at the boy and all she felt was empty.