#keys-for-kids-ministries

[tomicscomics]

12/08/2023

On your Mark...

JOKE-OGRAPHY: 1. The Gospel of Mark begins by talking about John the Baptist.  In a few quick verses, Mark says John was a desert-dweller who came to baptize people in preparation for the Messiah's ministry.  Mark also argues that John's coming was prophesied by Isaiah, who said there would come a voice crying out in the desert, a messenger sent ahead of the Lord, making straight His paths.  Some of John's followers assumed that John himself was the Messiah, but John told them, "One mightier than I is coming after me.  I am not worthy to loosen His sandals.  I baptize you with water, but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit." 2. In this cartoon, the key verses about "going ahead of the Lord" and "making straight His paths" and "one mightier than I is coming" have been torn from their sacred context and crudely slapped into the new and exciting context of Jesus and John playing Tag as kids. 3. Jesus muses that John always runs in a straight line, making it easy to follow him, and quotes Isaiah as Mark did.  However, unlike Mark's quote, which implied John was preparing his followers for Jesus, Jesus's quote simply implies John is bad at Tag-tics -- that is, the tactics of Tag -- and has erred gravely in accepting Christ's challenge. 4. At the end, John screams in panic.  In Mark's Gospel, he says, "One mightier than I is coming after me," because he knows the true Messiah, Jesus, will be joining public ministry shortly, and he wants people to anticipate His coming.  In this cartoon, John says, "One mightier than I is coming after me," because his little Cousin has come after him with a speed that far exceeds his own, and when John is terrified, he screams like a maniac.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Throwing out the Epilogue and Cursed Child, how would you imagine the ending of the series? Like, what comes next after Harry goes to bed after beating Voldemort?

Anonymous asked:

What changes you would like to see in the wizarding world after the war?

Anonymous asked:

If you could rewrite the epilogue of Harry Potter, how would you do it and what changes would you make?

Thank you for the asks, it gave me a reason to try and think more about what I actually want from a post-book 7 story since I usually prefer to diverge from canon before book 7. I already talked a bit about the epilogue here, but this is more of a list of things I would like to see instead of reasons I don't like the existing one. There are going to be a lot of headcanons here, so be ready for that. I don't have something super thought out in terms of how it'll happen or who will be involved in everything in the long run. But I have a few bullet points about the epilogue itself and further in the future for the HP characters.

Like, for the epilogue itself, as I wrote in the past, I'd make it only a few months in the future, not years. What I'd put there is:

Showing a bit of the Golden Trio's friendship, and the three being hopeful about the future.

They are back at Hogwarts for 8th year and offhandedly mention Harry tried to go straight to Auror training and regretted leaving Hogwarts behind so quickly.

Ron was with Harry in Auror training and when Harry told him he was dropping out, Ron dropped out too. Kingsly assures them they could both return and continue the training from the point they dropped out after 8th year (Ron would return, Harry wouldn't).

They all get to worry about a future they weren't sure they'd have.

It's mentioned Neville is helping out Sprout and Harry is helping out the changing roaster of DADA teachers (since McGonagall decided to not really sign one on permanently to avoid the curse until it could be broken).

Some sections of Hogwarts are still a little worse for wear or were rebuilt completely after the battle and it shows.

Society is a little different. I want to see a Hogwarts where houses don't matter as much. Actually, start building the unity the sorting hat sang about. Show Harry has a few Slytherins he's friendly with. Show a pure-blood Slytherin be at least polite to Hermione — show the seeds of change.

Harry and Hermione are both mentioned going to the ministry for various meetings, and we get a hope that the ministry could be changed from within. That the system that let Voldemort and the Death Eaters take over so easily could be helped.

The epilogue won't show the actual changes or politics, just imply they are happening/or will happen. Many of the ex-DA members are primed for key positions in the ministry which would help this change to happen. Still, it would be slow, but now that there is no war, they have time. Like, the epilogue would mention people like Susan Bones getting a good position in the DMLE or something.

They reference rebuilding Diagon Alley and many places that were destroyed along with setting up a war monument and a separate monument for muggleborns.

Basically, I just want to end on a note of hope, of seeing a reason to work towards a future Harry finally had, you know?

But, that note of hope needs to have a bitter taste to it. I'd mention how this year, almost all the students could see the Thestrals leading the carriages to Hogwarts, an entire generation who gazed upon death.

Like, I don't care that much who Harry marries and what he names his kids, so I don't really mind not seeing that and leaving that to each reader to imagine their own future for him. If I were to rewrite the epilogue, that's what I'd do, I'd keep it vague.

As for other things I have in mind for Harry's future after the books, well, I think I mentioned some of them in the post I linked but I'll note down a few:

Harry becomes DADA professor and eventual deputy headmaster for McGonagall and Professor Potter doesn't let an abused kid go unnoticed. He's going to do something about it, for all houses.

Ron does still become an Auror, and I see him getting really good and valued there. I want Ron to become head of the DMLE instead of Harry.

I like to imagine Hermione becoming an Unspeakable actually, I think she'd enjoy it more than politics. Like, as much as she cares, she isn't very politically savvy. She is going to use Harry's Potter Wizengamot seat and war hero status (+ her own war hero status) to help him and other ex-DA members push for more creature rights and changes in the Wizarding World though.

Neville becomes a Herbology Professor and head of Gryffindor, and he and Harry become closer friends when they work together at Hogwarts.

Harry also breaks the DADA curse, either by figuring it out (he's very intuitive about magic and he knows how Tom thinks, so he could figure it out) or the curse recognizes him and just ceases. Even if Harry isn't a Horcrux anymore, I think carrying Tom's soul for so long had a lasting effect, so he just might get a pass. And even if the curse doesn't break, honestly, if anyone knows how to survive a year at Hogwarts when something's out to kill you it's the Boy-Who-Lived. So the curse might break after it fails once because it's Harry James Potter, Master of Death extraordinaire, and exception to magic.

I think Luna continues editing the Quibbler with her father, as well, and after the war, it becomes a real competition for the Prophet. She still becomes a Magizoologist in my headcanon.

Harry would eventually become Hogwarts headmaster, I think, in my version of events. Obviously, this would be way later, but I really see it happening. I'm hoping in his time as headmaster he'll finally fire Binns and get an actual history teacher into this school.

As for shipping, in my ultimate vision, Harry and Theo get together either during 8th year or by meeting in the ministry, maybe in Wizengamot warlock conventions (since Theo's father was a Death Eater and is either dead or in Azkaban, it'll be Theo there). I believe Theo wasn't actually in Britain during book 7 and the war and that's how he got out of being a Death Eater. He wasn't mentioned among the Slytherins that were in Hogwarts, so it's possible. I disagree with everything Cursed Child did to my boy Theo Nott except him being an Unspeakable since I can see that happening. His and Hermione's work dynamic in the DOM could be really fun, I think and it might be how he and Harry start talking.

For everyone else, I'm honestly less picky. I'm fine with Ron and Hermione together at the end, but I'd also be fine if they won't be, so 🤷‍♀️

[arliedraws]

Go on about Sirius and Benjy I am listening

Well, I went down a Benjy Fenwick hc rabbithole and created a backstory, so thank you for that

Benjy Fenwick comes from a working class seaside town in North Yorkshire. His father is a mechanic and his mother works part time as a cashier. Benjy’s the oldest of five children—he and his youngest brother (born when Benjy is about twelve) are the only siblings with magic. But he almost didn’t go to Hogwarts because he could hardly afford any of his books or materials, but he worked his little eleven-year-old butt off to make extra money. A natural salesman, he finds scraps to sell to kids he knows, gambles, scams adults until he gets the money he needs.

He loves his parents, particularly his mum. He feels incredibly guilty to be leaving his family behind, convinced that he needs to take care of them, but his parents insist that he goes. When Benjy gets to school, however, it’s clear that he is Poor. The first person to point this out is Bellatrix Black, a particularly nasty Slytherin girl in his year who comes from a very old pureblood family.

But Benjy is the most shameless, charming, devil-may-care sort of boy. He’s decent at school, but doesn’t care about doing well—he just cares about doing what’s right. He’s a jock type without possessing a shred of interest in the jock activities—he doesn’t give a damn about Quidditch but gets bored sitting still, but he’ll fly a broom to see how fast it goes. Too clever for his own good—could talk his way out of anything. He doesn’t need to lie—he just tells the truth so plainly that you can’t help appreciating his candor.

All of this infuriates Bellatrix Black, and she’s determined to make this little Ravenclaw as miserable as possible by trying to turn people against him. But Benjy is a really difficult person to hate. He’s the sort of kid who, if he doesn’t get a spell correct, is the first to laugh at his mistake. He asks the “dumb” questions in class—the ones that people are too embarrassed to admit they don’t know the answer to—with a shit-eating grin. He’s the first to protest if a professor gives them an extra long essay or a pop quiz and give the most convincing argument why the teacher should spare them—and sometimes, he’s even successful.

He gets a few O.W.L.s and a couple of N.E.W.T.s but not enough for a job in the Ministry. He never really wanted to do bureaucratic shit anyway. When he finishes school, he goes back home to work with his father as a mechanic. His family has always been his first priority, after all. And he’s pretty happy! He’s probably gay and he has younger siblings who are happily married and having kids, so he feels no pressure to “settle down” and marry some girl.

Anyway, Bellatrix Black’s old rivalry with Benjy never faded, and his family is savagely murdered in one of the earliest massacres of the war. He was supposed to be killed too, but he happened to be elsewhere that night. Mr. and Mrs. Fenwick are murdered, as well as two of his siblings, their spouses, and their children. Benjy goes feral when the Ministry do very little to investigate. He decides to hunt down the perpetrators himself but accidentally ends up sabotaging an Order of the Phoenix mission led by Alastor Moody.

Dumbledore asks Benjy to join the Order, and soon, Benjy becomes a key player in the war. He’s an excellent duelist, he can make muggle explosives that evade magical detection, he hasn’t got a lot left to lose, and most importantly, he has to make the world a better place for his little brother who’s still at school.

Benjy has been with the Order for five years by 1978. He’s still cheeky but a little jaded, battle-hardened, and a bit wary of the newest recruits who are too fresh out of Hogwarts. What is Dumbledore thinking bringing on these kids? And one of them is Bellatrix Black’s cousin.

This Sirius kid is charming and reminds Benjy a bit of himself when he was that age, but Benjy is also a bit suspicious of the pureblood heir. He hides his distrust, though Sirius can sense it. When a mission goes wrong, Sirius risks his own life to save his friends and finally earns Benjy’s respect. Others in the Order still don’t entirely trust Sirius because of his family, but Benjy sees something in him and takes Sirius under his wing as Sirius’s friends become more and more distant while the war pulls them apart.

Benjy spends more time with Sirius who constantly drops in unexpectedly at his house in Yorkshire. He’s worried about Sirius who begins behaving recklessly as James becomes more entangled with Lily. Benjy has to pull him back, insisting that he’s needlessly putting himself in danger.

When Sirius is furious that James and Lily are planning to wed, Benjy initially doesn’t see the problem—then he realizes that Sirius is in love with James. Benjy attempts to comfort him, but he discovers, to his surprise, that perhaps he’s always wanted to comfort Sirius. But Sirius is too young for him and in love with someone else…though he can’t deny he wants this kid very, very badly.

Meanwhile, Sirius desires approval from someone he respects, and Benjy has always praised Sirius in exactly the way Sirius likes—sarcastic remarks and a pinch of his cheek, winks, exasperated smiles. He likes how Benjy throws his arm around his shoulders like they’re mates; he likes that Benjy treats him like an adult when they’re on missions. They drink together, share the same kind of humor, etc. Benjy even brings Sirius to work in the auto body repair shop, etc. It’s hard to resist the older wizard—and it doesn’t help that Benjy is a fit, working class hunk.

Neither is sure who made the first move, only that Sirius came directly to Benjy’s house after James proposed to Lily. Benjy lets Sirius rage about it until Sirius, exhausted, settles down next to Benjy on the sofa, and Benjy just sort of…strokes his hair. And a lightbulb turns on for both of them.

From then on, when Sirius isn’t with his friends, he’s with Benjy. He doesn’t tell anyone about his relationship with Benjy (who warns that if Moody finds out, they won’t be able to partner up anymore). As they become more involved, Sirius can’t always explain where he’s been which looks…suspicious to people.

Anyway, if this were a fic, I’d probably add the plot of Bellatrix finding out about Benjy fucking her most eligible bachelor cousin, reigniting her old hatred of him.

Yada yada, Benjy dies to save Sirius—and no one alive knows they were ever together.

[awyeahitssam]

My Writing Masterlist

Since I post on here far more consistently then on ao3 for reasons, I figured I would compile a list of my writing for those who don't like sifting through fandoms they could care less about to get to the good stuff. 

Separated by fandom, and somewhat by trope. 

Harry Potter:

Harry eats a God. 

Harry just can't seem to stay dead. TW: Suicide, character death, frequent character death, torture, murder, disjointed snippets, discontinued + Harry dissociates. Connected, same warnings may apply. 

First Encounters: Time loop, Voldemort-as-Quirrell visits the Dursleys and is less than pleased. 

First Encounters: The first time Harry meets Voldemort, the man he's been trained to kill all his life, he's nineteen, and Voldemort recognizes him. 

Prisoner Harry tells Voldemort about the Dursleys like it's a bedtime story. 

Except for the incident, Harry really doesn't tend to talk a lot when he has a concussion. Stream of thought narrative, character injury.

Literally just Empath!Harry spoilers. Harry, at his trial, allowing himself be petty to an extent. 

Harry gets drunk, pulled into Voldemort's mind, and decides he wants to share his good mood.

Tea shop AU.  + more  Tea Shop (weather) AU. + something actually Tea-based under the cut

Four of a Kind AU: Learning to kiss split-scene. Harry/Harry, referenced Harry/Horcrux + They meet. They kiss. What if. Voldemort/Harry + In the aftermath Voldemort/Harry

Kid Fic: Harry ‘dies’ as a child. Mentor!Voldemort, absolutely not a pairing ficlet. 

Kid Fic: Harry and Voldemort’s kid lands in the past during a duel at the Ministry. Pre-Harrymort, Micah, not quite the kiss you'd expect.

Female Harry, world-jumping, rationally angry. Tom/Harry intended, if Harry will chill out on the murder. 

Harry likes to feel pretty. Horcrux/Harry, Harry wears makeup, etc. 

Tom and Harry jump through time to each other. Tomarry, growing up, fluff, brief kissing, Harry’s older

Dragon AU, I have a lot more of this one written, I should dump that some day. Harry/Horcruxes

Harry/Tom: pillow forts, soft angst, unresolved, broken promises

Harry's really fucking sick and tired of being told what the fuck to do. 

Tom-after-Voldemort is the first person Harry has ever spoken to. Isolation, lighthearted, odd, old and forgotten. 

Harry never imagines the effect getting a boyfriend would have on Riddle. Jealous Tom. 

Harry messes with Diary!Tom

Harry and Voldemort have to complete a task based on the colour of the others' robes, for some reason?

Harry is kidnapped and wakes up in an incredibly comfortable bed. Voldemorts knows Harry is his horcrux.

Harry ruthlessly defends Hogwarts against encroaching Death Eaters. Sixth Year.

It's one paragraph guys.

Prompt-based: Tom possesses Harry when he's afraid. Hermione POV.

Prompt-based: Santa forgot about Harry, again.

Prompt-based: Tom watches Harry draw dirty, dirty things at church.

Teen Wolf, all at least peripherally intended as Stiles/Peter

Kid Fic + Genderbend + Time Travel: Stiles is in the past and nobody is raising Malia, so she sure as shit will.

Stiles has known about werewolves since he was nine, and now that he's off the college it seems his dad has gottten involved. No Hale Fire, Protective Stiles

The first thing Kate does when she comes back to Beacon Hills is kidnap Peter. Human!Alpha Stiles, eventual Steter, pre-slash

Stiles has the curse of obedience. Stiles/Peter

Flower shop AU! Ft. Petty Peter and insulting bouquets.

Peter says he hates Stiles. Stiles begs to differ. 

Werewolf Stiles wakes up in the middle of Beacon Hills woods naked, and tries to keep it low key from there. Bakery AU, kinda. Peter/Stiles

First Encounters: The Hale pack summons Stiles to the past. 

First Encounters: The first time Stiles meets Peter he is drunk. Stiles is a rude, very straight-forward drunk who steps all over issues like dead family and psychosis. It’s like he had a minefield map and is intentionally stepping on every trigger. 

Stiles meets Peter in the hospital.

Stiles pulls back because he doesn't want Peter to mess up his dress shirt, not because he doesn't want the bite. 

Stiles crochets magic shit. Fluff. 

Negotiations go well. 

Peter being the literal worst, holy hell, this hurts to read. Have some angst. Past-Stiles/Peter

Okay, my bad for that last one. Have some comfort. Crying, comfort, Stiles & Peter

Dragon Stiles is constantly underestimated. 

Stiles beats Peter, sore loser extraordinaire. 

Me acting like Stiles has shame for some reason.

Female Stiles gets forcibly genderbent and is not putting up with anybody's shit. Body dysmorphia, shitty friends, anger issues, sexism. Peter/Stiles

Female Stiles and Peter. Shower, soft.

Stiles writes smutty fanfic, as he should. 

Stiles being a bad influence on his little self, ft Knowing Himself Too Fucking Well. Time travel AU, torture

Peter walks away. 

Peter/Stiles, marking, one of the sexiest things I've ever written imo 

Peter is dumb, stupid, silly villain. 

Peter’s timing is about as good as Stiles’ filter. Dumb, stupid villain antics. 

Stiles threatens Peter, /lh

Stiles is justifiably sad after a movie. 

Tony Stark-centric:

Gen: Tony takes after Maria. Few people recognize a predator wrapped up in such Tony packaging. 

Gen: Tony bantering with, and teasing, Peter. 

Tony Stark uses the infinity stones. 

Tony survives the stones. 

Tony proposes. In public. In a way that undeniably affirms his feelings. Loki/Tony

Loki meets Morgan for the first time. Loki/Tony, kid fic

Hair Kink—I mean braiding! Aha, ha, ha… Loki/Tony

Female Toni doesn't take well to her children being threatened. 

Soulmates? Tony/Loki

Rhodey gives Loki the shovel talk ft. Parks & Rec

Tony saves the day…?

Bleach / Time travel: Ichigo isn't supposed to be here. 

The 100: Cage Wallace stages a coup before the forty-eight arrive. (Or: Dante Wallace dies before his time.) This changes everything.

Tagged: 10 Characters, 10 Fandoms, 10 Shorts

[cursedonyx]

What are your Professor Fig headcannons?

Honestly I'd not thought a whole hell of a lot about it before now, but this prompted a bit of a list from me! So enjoy 💕

Professor Fig Headcannons

Fig met Miriam just after he left Hogwarts and was enamoured with her straight away. He went out of his way to learn about her just so he could surprise her with her favourite things while they were courting.

Fig was from quite a humble background, but his parents instilled in him a love of learning from an early age, knowing that a good education would be key for him making something of himself. Fig didn’t want to go into his adult life as poor as his parents, and while he isn’t a miser, he doesn’t spend his gold excessively, preferring to wear his robes to threads before buying new ones.

That said, he’s more than happy to spend his gold on things for those he cares about, and he sent gold to his parents regularly until they passed so they could be comfortable in their old age.

Eleazar and Miriam married when they were in their early twenties in a surprisingly big ceremony. Miriam’s parents were quite wealthy, and they went all out, enamoured with the charming young man their daughter had chosen. They were married in the morning and partied until the next morning, before going on a honeymoon to the Canary Islands, where they indulged all week in sun, sea, and fade to black.

Fig adventured a lot with Miriam in their younger years and got into all sorts of hijinks – he was usually the one rushing ahead without thinking, and Miriam had to save his hide on more than one occasion.

He secretly loved getting told off by Miriam when this happened because it meant she loved him and cared about his safety.

Kids never happened for the Figs; at first they were just happy exploring the world and adventuring, always thinking ‘we’ll do it later’ and when they hit their 30s and they were still having so much fun they thought ‘just a few more years’ and it just never happened. Fig himself wasn’t overly concerned about this, but he occasionally worried that Miriam might feel bad or that she missed out. It’s part of the reason he took up a teaching position at Hogwarts, so she could be around kids whenever she visited.

He’s got a soft spot for the cats that hang around the castle and loves to give them a fuss if he’s got the time.

He built up strong connections at the Ministry over the years, and Minister Spavin has relied on him in the past much like Fudge relied on Dumbledore. However, as they aged (and it’s canon that Spavin started to go a bit do-lally in his later years) Spavin took their friendship for granted and didn’t take Fig’s concerns seriously, leading to a decline in their relationship and a tanking of Fig’s standing in the Ministry.

His favourite season is autumn because it was Miriam’s favourite season. She loved the colours, and he always feels closer to her in those months.

He never forgave himself for not being there when she died, and he treasures the last note she sent him. He puts on a brave face for the rest of the world, but when he’s alone and he’s got nothing to think about, he replays their last conversation in his mind on repeat until he falls asleep. He wears a locket with her portrait in it at all times, and looks at it when he's feeling particularly blue.

Fig has a very mischievous personality, and he’s more than willing to turn a blind eye to a lot of the mischief that students get up to, provided it’s not malicious or harmful. This has endeared him to the student body at large. He’s not above playing pranks on his fellow professors, especially Professor Black, who’s so arrogant he would never think one of his underlings would be responsible.

Despite his subject being considered boring by many, Fig has a real flair for teaching, his passion for magical theory being quite infectious. As such, his classes were very popular until Miriam passed, and he lost a bit of his enthusiasm.

Fig never lost his love of adventure, and tended to keep a cool head in situations that most would find alarming or confusing. He has a lot of curiosity about the world around him, even in his advanced years, and always wants to learn more.

After Miriam passed, Eleazar felt lost for a long time, but when the new student came to Hogwarts and he was tasked with mentoring them, he found new purpose, and eventually came to view this exceptional young person as the child he never had.

He’s always available for them, day or night, no matter what they need. He doesn’t mollycoddle them, knowing they’re perfectly capable of looking after themselves, but it doesn’t stop him worrying if he’s not heard from them in a while.

Had he lived, Eleazar would have become an additional parental figure to the MC, and his love for them would extend to their closest friends, no matter who they are.

[ofthemorningstars]

A Black Heart (Part 2)

TerzOmega ~ Secondo's POV ~ Family Fluff ~ Light Angst ~ Resurrection AU 3.1k words Part 1 Ao3 Version

When Terzo is rushed to the infirmary, a reluctant Uncle Secondo must watch Terzo and Omega's oldest child. Trouble ensues. Content Warning: mpreg(cis), pregnancy complications, medical trauma ---

The next morning, Starlight looked tired. He could tell that she had slept like shit, he had heard her whimpering periodically throughout the night. Part of him wanted to go and comfort her, but the rest of him knew that they didn’t have the kind of rapport for that. That was his own fault. 

He braced himself for the day ahead. He knew they would need to go to Terzo’s chambers today to get her some more supplies for her unexpected stay, and perhaps going home for a bit would be a welcome distraction for her. As he applied his face paint, he caught Starlight peeking around the corner, watching with fascination. He beckoned her forward, inviting her into the room. “Uncle Secondo, how come your makeup is different than Papa’s? And how come you wear it every day? Papa only wears his sometimes.” Secondo grimaced at her use of the word “makeup”, an undignified descriptor in his opinion. He bit his tongue against a nasty remark about her father being lazy and no longer doing enough work that would call for him wearing his paint. “I guess your Papa just doesn’t like to wear it as much anymore. He used to have to wear it every day, he didn’t have a choice” he replied. Starlight’s eyes went wide. “Really? Papa looks so pretty with his makeup. Yours is scary, though ” she pouted. Secondo smirked. 

“It’s supposed to be scary, kid. Not pretty.” Starlight gave him an incredulous look, clearly upset. He paused, in disbelief over what he was about to do. “Here. Would you like to help? Make it less scary for me.” He handed her a black cream paint stick. Her face lit up, breaking into a wide, toothy smile, showing her fangs. 

For the rest of the day, Secondo would walk around with a crudely drawn black heart on his cheek, glaring at anyone who looked in his direction, daring an unlucky soul to say a word to him about it. Starlight talked his ear off the whole way to Terzo’s chambers.

When they arrived, Secondo hesitated outside the door for just a second before turning the key in the lock. As they stepped inside, he looked around with surprise; he had never been in their quarters before, and he was shocked at how homey it managed to be. It was downright cozy, feeling lived-in in just the right way, while still looking presentable and curated. Starlight’s artwork not only decorated the fridge but was hanging, framed, on the sitting room walls. Starlight’s room was meticulously decorated, done entirely in soft tones of pink and gold. On the far wall was an intricately detailed mural of some far-off galaxy, clearly painted by hand. There were toy boxes and baskets everywhere, yet they somehow still managed to all be overflowing with toys. There was a pink wooden bookshelf sitting low to the ground, whether for safety or accessibility reasons, he didn’t know, but it was crammed with books of all sizes. On her bed was a mountain of stuffed animals. Starlight ran over to the bed and tackled one of the toys: a large, well-worn tuxedo cat. “Mister Mistoffelees!” she exclaimed, burying her face in its fur. Secondo rolled his eyes. Of course his brother would barely let her watch TV and yet still manage to find the time to show her Cats. Terzo had always had an affinity for musical theater. He spotted an ornately crafted cherry wood crib in the corner, the mattress already neatly made, a mobile of a solar system hanging above it. He supposed it would make sense that the girls were meant to share a room. It had never occurred to him how cramped the ministry’s quarters must be for a family, even the large suites like what they had. Still, they seemed to be making the most of it. It was clearer than ever to Secondo just how loved and doted on his niece was. He was very much not used to witnessing happy, healthy families. Suddenly he felt very uncomfortable, like he was intruding on an intimate family moment that he was never meant to be included in.

“Alright kiddo, get your stuff and let's get out of here.” Secondo was eager to escape. Starlight pouted, clearly not wanting to leave now that she was back home. He rifled through her dresser, grabbing clothes at random, not caring if the outfits matched. He gathered a few other essentials before handing her the bag, instructing her to take only what she needed and to make it quick. While she was collecting her things, Secondo decided to occupy himself by crouching down to examine the books on the shelf. There was an impressive range, from baby books to classic literature. He wondered idly which ones were her favorite. Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice the young girl approaching him until he felt a tickle, first on the back of his neck, then on his cheeks. He saw a flash of purple out of the corner of his eye. Was that a…feather? He whipped around, seeing Starlight giggling, and looked down at his own shoulders, where a purple feather boa was now perched. “That’s Papa’s favorite,” she said with a bright smile, her hands clasped behind her back, but after a moment her face fell. She had reminded herself of their current predicament, he could tell. Panic rose up within him; he desperately wanted to avoid another meltdown. He quickly intervened, not knowing what else to do. “Oh yeah? Got any other dress-up stuff?” He swallowed hard, not believing what he was about to say. “Uncle Secondo wants to feel like a princess.” Starlight wasted no time in rifling through her toyboxes, pulling out a tiara here, a tutu there. Before he knew what was happening, they were both decked out from head to toe in play jewelry and costume pieces. He grumbled as she sat him down at her little table, a cup of imaginary tea in his hand. He was flanked by Mister Mistoffelees on his right, and an ugly babydoll with curly red hair named Annie on his left. She pretended to feed him a plastic scone, and he played along for the sake of keeping her happy and quiet. 

When he realized that it was nearly lunchtime, he stood up and took his new accessories off, insisting that it was time to go drop her stuff off at his place and grab lunch in the great hall, but not even promises of eating with her insufferable Uncle Copia were enough to lure her out of her own bedroom. He compromised, deciding to rifle through Terzo’s fridge until he found something that sounded agreeable to her. They settled down at the kitchen table and ate in companionable silence. He didn’t bother cleaning her room up before they left, deciding that it was most definitely not his problem. The rest of the day was uneventful, but when it was time for Starlight to go to bed, she pulled a book from her bag, begging for him to read it. He squinted at it, looking closely at the title: “Guess How Much I Love You”. “I am NOT reading that,” Secondo said with a scowl. Her face fell. “But it’s my favorite book! Papa and Daddy read it to me every night!” Her eyes threatened to well up with tears yet again. Oh, Secondo was so ready for this experience to be over.

Secondo got to his feet, telling her to stay put while he went into the sitting room. When he returned, he was carrying a thick hardcover book: Ulysses, by James Joyce. Truth be told, he didn’t own many books that were child-appropriate, all satanic texts and ancient grimoires. This one had been a gift, although he’d long forgotten who it was from. Probably some pretentious asshole. He grabbed his reading glasses and sat down beside her. After about five minutes of his droning, she was sound asleep. He got up and quietly closed the door behind him. The next morning after breakfast, Starlight was incessantly demanding another tea party, whining and stomping her feet in a surprisingly bratty show from the usually sweet girl. Satanas, he didn’t know how parents did this every single day. He was beginning to feel run ragged. He swore that when all this was over, he was going straight to the infirmary himself for a vasectomy. 

“What do you mean when you say you want a real tea party?” Secondo asked, exasperated. “Didn’t we have a real tea party yesterday?” Starlight’s nostrils flared as she rolled her eyes. Where the hell did a three year old learn to roll her eyes? He thought back to all the times over the last few days when he himself had done the same thing around her and decided to bite his tongue. 

“Uncle Primo and me have real tea parties with real tea all the time,” she told him, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Of course, it would be Primo who got him into this mess. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not Uncle Primo,” he sneered. She growled under her breath. She fucking growled at him. He was taken aback but decided to move past it when he saw the tears in her eyes, chalking it up to the stress of the week. He let out a long sigh. “Look, kid. Primo is… busy. I’d take you to him, but he’s not at home.” “Why not just use your key?” she asked earnestly. “I don’t have a–” Secondo stopped himself, seeing a way out of this predicament. “Sure. Ok. I’ll use my key.” She skipped the whole way to Primo’s quarters, singing to herself. When they reached the door, Secondo quickly picked the lock, calling on years of experience from his youth. He’d been in Primo’s chambers before, and it was nothing to write home about. Every wall, it seemed, was lined with massive bookshelves, not an inch of space unoccupied by obscure tomes. Thinking on it now, he was probably the pretentious asshole who’d given him that copy of Ulysses…

“Ok kid, show me where he keeps the stuff.” Starlight nodded before hurrying off to the kitchen, on a mission. She pointed out the teaware while he put the kettle on, waiting impatiently for it to boil. He perused Primo’s massive selection of teas and loose herbs, unsure of what to pick, until he settled on one. Chamomile. He’d heard caffeine was bad for kids. Once everything was ready and they were set at the table, he was about to sit down, but Starlight piped up, letting him know that her tea was too hot. “Of course it’s hot, it’s tea. Just blow on it, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” “Uncle Primo puts an ice cube in it for me,” she informed him curtly. He grumbled, going back into the kitchen for her ice. The things he’d done for this needy little ghoul this week…

Starlight talked endlessly about her parents while they sipped. He left without cleaning up, just like he had at Terzo’s. Not his kid, not his problem. 

That night while they were sitting on the sofa watching Tom and Jerry together, right after Starlight’s line of questioning about just why the cat would want to hurt the mouse in the first place, the phone rang. It was Omega. Secondo raced into the other room, hoping for any kind of news at all at this point. As he closed the door, he saw Starlight’s little face pop up over the sofa back, full of concern.

“Hello?” “Hey. Is Star ok?” Omega sounded much better this time. Much less like a man awaiting his own execution. “I– Yeah. Yeah, she’s fine. Do you want to talk to her?” Secondo wasn’t sure why he hesitated. 

“Not right now. Can you bring her down here?” Secondo couldn’t get a read the tone of his voice. That worried him. “Right now?” He checked the clock. Eight forty-three. “Yeah. Please. Bring her stuff, too.” Omega said before hanging up. Secondo wondered whatever happened to saying goodbye, but he breathed a sigh of relief. She was going home. Surely that was a good sign.

Right? As a nurse led them to Terzo’s room, Secondo could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He had two overstuffed bags on one arm, and a cowering toddler on the other, resting on his hip. He felt like an overladen mule, but Star had been so nervous about the status of her father that she couldn’t walk, choosing to cling instead. It really would’ve been helpful if Omega had provided him with more information, information that he could relay to the stressed toddler, but that seemed to just be how things went around here lately. Secondo stepped cautiously through the open door of the room, eyes immediately zeroing in on Terzo. Fuck. His brother looked like shit, but he was ALIVE. Secondo’s body sagged with relief, not realizing how much tension he’d been holding until that very moment. Starlight spotted him, too, and she tried to squirm out of Secondo’s hold. He let her go, setting her down on the floor. “Papa!” Starlight yelled, running to him as fast as her little legs would carry her. Terzo looked up from his hospital bed, seeming to have only just now noticed them. His face instantly lit up, budding joy making him look ten years younger.

“Star!” Terzo exclaimed, holding his arms out to her as she climbed up onto the bed. “Careful, Star,” Omega cautioned softly from the chair next to the bed. “Papa has an IV.” He pointed to his own arm to illustrate. She nodded, gingerly crawling over to Terzo, trying not to disturb the tubes and wires coming off of him, and hugged him gently. Terzo, seemingly not paying Omega’s warning any heed himself, hugged her back fiercely, squeezing tight and rocking her from side to side. Secondo saw a tear roll down Terzo’s face, one that he hastily wiped away. Starlight buried her face into the crook of her father’s neck, her tail swishing back and forth happily. When Terzo finally pulled back, it was to place a lingering kiss to her forehead. He examined her, studying her face and looking her over from head to toe.

“Oh, my little Star baby, are you alright? Did Uncle Secondo take good care of you?” Terzo asked, taking her face into his hands. Secondo shot him a dirty look, indignant at his care being called into question, but Terzo only had eyes for Starlight. When she nodded in response, Terzo pulled her back into his arms, sighing. Secondo turned to leave, feeling uncomfortable intruding on such a personal moment. 

“Would you like to meet your niece?” Omega called to him, stopping him as his hand was on the door handle. Secondo hesitated, unsure of himself. For as long as he could remember, he’d always lived his life aloof, detached, never allowing himself softness or weakness. But if these last few days had taught him anything, it was that maybe there was some value in softness, after all, especially if he ever wanted even a taste of the type of happiness they had. “Yes. Of course.” He walked back over to Omega, watching him lift a tiny bundle out of a plastic bassinet that he had somehow managed to overlook entirely. He accepted the bundle with surprising grace as it was thrust into his arms. 

“She’s so small,” Secondo exclaimed, his voice hushed. “She’s a few weeks early, by our estimations,” Omega replied, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “Her name is Astrid.” 

Hmm. Astrid. While it was a very lovely name, they certainly had a theme. Secondo studied the infant, noting her full head of dark hair, the same color as his brother’s. Her eyes were closed, and he wondered if she, too, had inherited the family’s infernal white eye, like Starlight had. Her skin was the same dusky grey as her father and sister’s. Her horns, though, were different than theirs, curling slightly to the sides like a ram’s horns. He had to admit, she was quite cute. “Can I see her?” Starlight asked, having finally broken away from Terzo’s embrace. Omega reached to take the newborn back, but Secondo didn’t relinquish her, instead walking her over to her big sister himself. He sat on the edge of the bed, letting Starlight lean over her, examining her with wide-eyed wonder. She shyly reached out to touch Astrid’s hair, tentatively petting it. “She’s got your hair, Papa!” Starlight said excitedly. Terzo beamed with pride. “Sì, and Daddy's nose,” Terzo crowed. Secondo shifted the baby to one arm, using the other to pat Terzo firmly on the shin. “I’m glad you’re ali– ok. I’m glad you’re ok, brother,” Secondo said quietly. Terzo’s eyes went wide, looking at him with shock, as though he’d grown a second head. After a moment, though, he nodded, smiling. “Thank you for taking care of Star,” was Terzo’s reply, a look of sincere gratitude painted across his features. “Happy to. Looking forward to doing this the next time you’re back in here, too,” Secondo chuckled, teasing. A look of deep sorrow crossed Terzo’s features, one which he quickly tried to hide, pretending to examine his nails. “There won’t be a next time,” Terzo murmured quietly. “Oh?” Secondo was genuinely puzzled. He had thought his brother’s baby fever knew no bounds, especially considering the lengths he’d gone to in order to make it happen. He certainly didn’t expect them to stop growing their family at just two children. Omega cleared his throat, reaching again for his youngest daughter. This time, Secondo handed her back without issue. Omega held her close, rocking her and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “We can talk about it later,” Omega said, his eyes flicking to where Starlight sat curled up in Terzo’s arms. Ah. Not information for sensitive little ears, then. Terzo wore a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.  “You can certainly still take her any time you’d like.” Terzo was clearly trying to poke fun at him. Secondo opened his mouth in protest, but Starlight tugged on his sleeve excitedly. “Please, Uncle Secondo?” Starlight looked up at him, her big mismatched eyes full of hope. Secondo cracked a smile against his better judgment, ruffling her hair. “Sure, kid. Come hang out any time.”

[swinglifeaway19]

Roleplay Partner Search

Hi there! 

My friends call me Sammy. I've been roleplaying for roughly fifteen years, started on Quizilla ( rip ) and have been writing ever since. I work a full time job, Monday - Friday that takes up the most of my time during the week. Weekends are spent with my boyfriend and friends.Most of my roleplay responses will be weekday evenings & Sunday nights. I'm available most of the time to chitchat or headcanon if that's your jam. I love making friends with my writing partners. Communication is key. 

18+ Please. Am adult. Children stay away. 

Probably over Discord? Unless you have a better suggestion. PM me and we can discuss. 

Doubling friendly and doubling encouraged.   I always play a female oc and a character of your choosing. If you want canon ships for your side, cool. I dont mind. You have an oc that you want to pair with a canon character? Even better. Tell me everything.  

Length. The longer the reply,  the longer it takes for me to reply. I dont really have a length limit, I can match whatever you throw at me, but I'd rather have a shorter reply full of meaningful sentences that move the roleplay along than a long reply full of fluff, ya know? 

Plot > Smut. I dont mind smut, I just need it to not be the sole focus. 

Its been forever since I've made one of  these so I'm probably forgetting something. If you have questions/comments/concerns, feel free to shoot me a message. 

Below are fandoms I'm currently looking for. Bold is who I would like to play against. Italics are characters I'm comfortable playing ( some fandoms have a crap load of characters, if you dont see someone you want in italics, please just ask if I can play them. More often than not, it's a yes). 

A Court of Thorns and Roses series - Completed( Lucien Vanserra, Eris Vanserra, Azriel) [ Azriel, Cassian, Rhysand , Eris Vanserra, Tarquin, ask for more ]

ACOTAR x Throne of Glass Crossover - I would kill to play the child of Manorian, pairing them off with Elucien child. Plot with me pleeeeeeeeease. 

Stephen King's It - Novel, TV Ministries, Chapter 1 & 2 Completed. highly prefer to rp when they are adults, though we can flashback/headcanon platonic moments from when they were kids. ( Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon )[ Any of the Losers ]

One Piece - Live Action. Through Zouin Anime ( Roranoa  Zoro. Trafalgar D Water Law. Vinsmoke Sanji )[ Any Straw Hat, Buggy, Mihawk, Shanks, theres a lot of characters so ask ]

Yu Yu Hakusho - Anime Completed. ( Kurama, Hiei, Yusuke )[ Kurama, Hiei, Yusuke, Kuwabara. Ask about anyone else but willing to try ] 

Stranger Things - Caught up. ( Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Steven Harrington ) [Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Jim Hopper ]

Hunger Games - Original Trilogy Novels & Movies Completed. Willing to do original plot. ( Peeta Mellark, Finnick Odair )[ Mostly anyone save for Snow ]

Teen Wolf ( Theo Raeken, Isaac Lahey, Stiles Stilinski )[ mostly anyone ]

Until Dawn ( Mike Munroe, male oc )[ anyone ]

[anamelessfool]

Valise (AO3)

From my "Domestics" Ficlet Series

GEN Young Secondo (b. 1961) (1969)

(Illustration by Me...Yes, he is supposed to look like Damien from the Omen)

8 year old Secondo is a touring piano prodigy, and his mother supports him every step of the way. An unexpected visitor arrives at the Ministry HQ.

Tags: domestic fluff, Secondo the child prodigy, mother and son relationship, this is why he is so intense, Enjoy my Google Translate Italian, Maybe I should send this to my Therapist, Sorta Sad Fluff Because That's My Brand

First and foremost dedicated to @fishwithtitz once more for asking me about Secondo after reading my Kid Primo stuff.

Ficlet below the cut!

1969

She was always there. Sister Rebecca. His mother. Secondo stole a glance across the top of the piano to the velvety darkness of stage right. He could tell she was there by the soft gleam of her perfectly round glasses. Secondo gave a nod, then refocused himself on the piano keys before him.

This tour season she had planned for him a program highlighting the greats of Chopin’s work He had grown quite a bit since his debut at six, and so he was able to reach more keys with greater accuracy. The theater was packed, the audience on the edge of their seats astounded at how such a young mind could comprehend the complexities of piano performance. He was on tempo and accurate—but then again any trained monkey could be that with enough practice. They were drawn to his surprising sensitivity on the keys, his understanding of drama and atmosphere that went way beyond his years.

Secondo didn't care whether he played in the common room of the Ministry or a packed orpheum in New York City, in both places his brain worked the same. His fingers moved and the sound fell out, a puzzle to massage his brooding mind. They were the soundtrack of the visions he had in his imagination brought on by all the paperbacks he read in the Ministry limousine as he toured up and down New England.

A leviathan of cosmic horror, its impossibly great head rising from the sea.

Moriarty and Sherlock, entangled as they plunged headfirst down the falls.

A corpse’s heart, beating under the floor in defiance of its murderer.

Rough beasts, their hour come at last, slouching towards Bethlehem.

He finished the piece with a flourish, bowing solemnly. His mother was always the first one to applaud.

When they traveled, which was often, she insisted they stay at the finest rooms in the finest hotels. Her businesslike, steely expression was usually enough to ensure their stay there was one of ease and opulence, and she tipped everyone handsomely besides. “Yes, and the room needs to have a phone. It is essential.”

“There is a time to perform and a time to rest,” she told her son once. “Commit to each season fully.”

Except it seemed like she never truly rested. The Personal Assistant to Mother Imperator rarely does. They would have a meal in the hotel suite, or go to a play or opera performance in each city they visited, but she was always peering into her datebook or calling the Ministry in the theater phonebooth during intermissions. Secondo would hold her drink while she made plans and kept appointments across the world.

Back at the hotel, the calls and note taking would continue, this time on the elegant historical phone of the penthouse, at least until she felt everything was laid out well enough before going to bed.

“No, it's not possible, but you have to make it work.” Click. Her datebook would snap open, and she'd dial the rotary phone again for another check in. Whirrrr, whirrr, whirrr.

“Nihil will be on tour the fifteenth through the second. Yes, the venues are all approved.” Click. Snap. Whirrr, whirr, whirrr.

Then she would pull out an array of languages. A full half hour conversation in Italian. Three requests in Portuguese, a demand in Spanish from another caller across the world. A stilted yet firm discussion in broken German (she struggled with that one, but it was on her list).

Secondo, still warm from his bath, would close his eyes in the other bed. There was the soft murmuring of phone call after phone call. The efficient scratching of a fountain pen. The impatient tapping of her fingernails across the desk. She would turn to check on him and through his eyelashes he saw once more the gleam of her spectacles, the white gold glitter of the smart brooch at her throat. He started to drift off to sleep to the quiet efficient sounds of his mother at work.

“Yes, I'm away now. Our tour is going well. My son and I are having a lovely time. Yes, he is doing so well. Talented through and through.”

***

“And what brooch shall I wear today, boy?” She would ask him each day, after putting up her hair and putting away her ivory combs. Secondo would peer across the open jewelry case, the finery enclosed and separated with black velvet dividers, a stable of jewels. He would pick one and hand it to her. She never refused his selection.

“How is my watch today, boy?” Would be the next thing she would ask about. Secondo would already be prepared with it. It was a thin ladies wristwatch over forty years old and still pristine. It was a big moment for him when he was allowed to take care of it. He would make sure it was wound each day, opening the back to see the small gears whirring smoothly like the action of a song bird's heart. He would polish the white gold surface, check the fittings on the square cut sapphires. Under his care he wanted it to run for another four hundred years.

“We are going back home today,” she said. “The tour is over. The car is picking us up at the front in an hour. Is everything accounted for, boy?”

Secondo inspected the entire jewelry case, making sure all was there. He even considered the secret panel underneath, where a few hundred dollar bills were stored. He nodded solemnly, the most dutiful little butler she'd ever employed.

Secondo was the only one allowed to carry her travel case of jewelry. It was a small valise of ostrich leather with engraved brass to protect the corners. He was the only other one who knew the combination. When they traveled he never let his hand leave the handle. He had once seen a spy movie where a man had a handcuff and chain attached to a secret spy suitcase, and that really stirred his imagination.

I'm going to protect these, Secondo would think, and the idea of fighting off bandits and thieves with his teeth and fists would send a thrill through his little body. I'm going to defend these with my life.

***

Secondo stared out the window of the Ministry limousine, watching the ascent of the car into the canopy of old growth as they returned home. When there was nothing to say he and his mother Rebecca chose to say nothing. They sat in a silence that was comfortable to them, the soft scratching of her pen in her little datebook lulling him into calm.

Rebecca closed the book with a business-like click, elegantly stowing it in her coat breast pocket. Secondo watched the little flash of red shagreen vanish into the black wool.

“Boy.” Rebecca’s face showed nothing. She peered at him with a corvid intensity, then leaned forward, her strong nose mere inches from his face. An eyebrow twitched exactly once. “What do we have here?”

Second stared back with an equal level of stoicism, although there was the slight fluttering of anticipation behind his ribs. His mother reached out by the side of his head, feigning dramatic surprise. “Look!” She hissed. A wrapped caramel miraculously appeared from his ear, and she solemnly placed it in his hands. “Don't I tell you to wash your ears, boy?” She teased.

At that, Secondo smiled broadly, unwrapping and savoring the treat. Rebecca gave her son's knee a single pat. “Excellent work once again, my Secondo. I would not expect anything less.”

“Will we go again next year?” He asked.

“If you want,” she said.

“Europe?”

Rebecca frowned. “Not until you're older. These little tours are too much as it is on you. I know you enjoy the spotlight, boy, but you do have the rest of your life to stand under it.”

Secondo tightened his grip on the handle of her jewelry valise, glowering at the ridges of the leather seat across from him. “Why can't I be old enough right now?”

“Secondo—” and he snapped bolt upright, looking into her eyes. She used his name mostly when he was in trouble. She pulled off her glasses and began to clean them with a cloth from her jacket. The thick glasses concealed the tired wrinkles under her blue eyes. “Great men are good boys first. If you're going to be Papa Emeritus, you need to start now. And you are on the path. One step at a time.”

“But Nihil…” Secondo found it hard to understand how his proper mother ever spent a moment enjoying the presence of his freewheeling bohemian father. He suspected Rebecca felt the same.

Rebecca replaced her glasses. “I said that you are going to be a great man, Secondo.”

As the limo pulled into the circular driveway Secondo noticed two figures and some luggage standing under the front portico. Rebecca looked unusually puzzled as she helped her son out of the vehicle. One of the figures was a tall man in a very opulent fur-lined cape. He had the headwear and glittering grucifix that announced his station as a Cardinal, although he was not anyone Secondo had ever seen before. The second figure was much smaller and shyly stood behind the visitor. He was so small and hidden that Secondo assumed he was some sort of pet.

“Sister Rebecca, buon Giorno.” The Cardinal’s voice was merry, sing-songy. Foreign. “They had said you are one I will be needing a seeing, yes?” He bowed his great graying head. “I am Cardinal Raphael, sono di Milano.”

“Parlo fluentemente l'italiano, Excellenze,” said Rebecca. “How can I help you.”

Raphael’s shoulders lowered in a moment of relief. “Dov'è il Papa Emeritus questo pomeriggio? Sono qui per Sua Eccellenza.”

“è fuori. in questo momento è a San Francisco.”

“Ah, si, si…”

The two adults chattered on the step. Secondo held his mother’s hand as he observed the other visitor beside the Italian, who was slowly inching into view.

Holding onto the Cardinal’s belt end was a very small figure, bundled up. Above the mountain of his knit scarf and below the too-big beret, little cat-like eyes sparkled. It was a boy about half Secondo’s age, or younger. He had a cardboard suitcase on which a child drew a cartoon flower.

“Shall we go inside?” Rebecca finished the conversation. “You did not come all this way to stand on these steps. Come.”

A few moments later and Rebecca offered the visitors a seat at the sofa of a receiving room. She smiled as the adults settled in. Secondo took a seat in a nearby armchair, still holding the precious valise in his hand. The new boy struggled a bit with getting up onto the couch but sat there obediently, swinging his legs.

“Now,” Rebecca said, done with the pleasantries. “Why have you come all this way today, Cardinal.”

Cardinal Raphael swept out his hand. “Questo è il figlio di Papa Emeritus.” The little boy beside the cardinal blinked his eyes wide, checking in with his mentor. The Cardinal raised his bushy eyebrows, gesturing slightly with his hands. The boy screwed up his face in an attempt at nobility and bobbed his head slightly in a bow.

Rebecca’s mouth was now a thin line. “Oh? Is that so?”

“The em…his Eminence’s tour of Italy was er…in the 1964 and the 1965.”

“It most certainly was,” replied Rebecca. Her hand imperceptibly clenched the edge of her sofa chair. “I planned every last detail.”

“Perhaps not,” replied the Cardinal with a good natured chuckle, but upon seeing Rebecca’s icy expression he swallowed his own. Time crawled as she stared into him, tapping her fingers on her chair. If a sinkhole ripped open beneath the Cardinal's feet dropping him into the depths of the planet, he would thank Satan for the opportunity.

Rebecca solemnly pulled off her glasses and rested them on the side table. She arranged the datebook and fountain pen beside them, and rose to her feet. “Cardinale, mi scuso.”

She backed away elegantly, opening the parlor doors behind her and slipping inside. The Cardinal seemed to be a decently friendly man, since he attempted to break the tense silence by leaning over to address Secondo. “So eh, you….baseball?”

There was a shattering sound against a wall in the parlor. It sounded like a plate falling to pieces. Afterwards there came a great toppling noise of wood on wood, a pop and crack of carpentry destroyed under a foot. Then a wrathful scream was drowned out by the rushing, creaking crash of something large sliding to the floor. The tinkling of glass and a ceramic explosion suggested the victim to be an entire hutch of dinnerware.

The plates on the floor settled and Rebecca once more emerged, softly closing the door behind her and returning to her seat. Her face was as calm as it always was. She brought her items into her hands, writing something quickly in her book, then replacing in her jacket. “Secondo, I'm not sure if I want to buy your father a suitcase or a coffin.”

Cardinal Raphael shook his head and chuckled, but immediately recoiled once more at the glare thrown at him across the room.

The conversation became low, almost silent, the Cardinal gesturing with his hands as if he were a fencing opponent. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to Rebecca, who snatched it from his hands and glared at the words.

Secondo observed the little boy who was smiling to himself and admiring the carved wood paneling in the opulent receiving room. The boy noticed Secondo and presented him with a friendly mischievous grin.

Secondo frowned suspiciously back. He pulled the jewelry valise even closer to his chest.

The hushed conversation continued around them. Secondo had no idea what they were saying, but he attempted to understand the small snippets he heard.

Ci siamo presi cura di loro... quattro anni... torre della cattedrale... suicidio... è solo…

“Fine,” Rebecca said, neatly folding the note. She glanced over to Secondo, then back to her guests. She pointed at the new boy. “Stai qui per favore.”

The cardinal patted his young ward to his feet.

Rebecca leaned forward, staring into the little boy standing in front of her. Light reflected across her perfectly round spectacles, concealing her eyes and transforming her into some sort of suspicious owl, an inhuman statue. “Sei un bravo maschietto? Sei un maschietto obbediente?”

The boy winced, perhaps confused by the question. He collected himself and nodded.

“Lavorerai?”

Again he flashed a small face of concern. But he gave her one last determined nod.

“Very well,” Rebecca sighed. She leaned back in the chair and removed her glasses. There were a few beats of silence, the nun gathering her thoughts and tidying her mind from the previous moment’s sudden earthquake. She gestured from her son to the little visitor. “Secondo, this…I suppose then that this is Terzo,” she said. “Your…half-brother.”

My AO3 | Tumblr Fic List | My Obsessive Ghost AU Series aka My Flavor of Insanity

Please comment and reblog! Thank you.

[seraphhskies]

long distance pt. 1

--⋆♱✮♱⋆--

swiss ghoul x cardinal! fem! reader

word count: 751

type: fluff, romance cw: very slight sad, 18+ language summary: In which, you are keeping an exciting secret from your favorite ghoul (who also happens to be your partner.) I had a weird dream like this a while back, and for some reason I decided it should be Swiss that I write about :) this is cross posted on AO3 as well!

Part 2

--⋆♱✮♱⋆--

“I will fucking end you, Swiss! Are you kidding?” You yelled into your microphone, frantically tapping the keys on your keyboard. You were determined to find him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, princess.” He replied, causing you to groan in frustration. The smirk in Swiss’ voice was audible, even through headphones.

“You know exactly what you did!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in the air. “I needed that iron!”

“Well, maybe I needed it too!” He argued back, protesting as you found him in the game. 

“Then go get your own!” You snickered, punching him. The two of you had played Minecraft for as long as you’d been dating, using it as a way to have dates despite the distance. Complaints filled your ears as you actually killed him- smacking his character to death with just your hands.

It went like this most of the time- well, not that you killed him frequently- but he always found some trouble to get into, even in a video game. 

You huffed, stretching as you leaned back in your chair. “I practically heard your spine snapping from here.” His voice crackled, and you rolled your eyes despite the fond smile growing. “Yeah, uh huh.” You replied, squinting as you tried to determine which was the best way home. 

Swiss sighed loudly, doing it multiple times before you finally responded. “What’s up?” You gave in. 

“I miss you.” He complained, oddly sappy with you over the phone today. 

“I miss you too.” You smiled, a fuzzy feeling in your chest. You hadn’t told him, but in about a week you would finally be seeing one another after an entire year apart. The Ministry had sent you across the country for work, but you had recently applied to work back in the states. They had accepted, so you were due to return in about a week. Swiss had been kept busy too, so you had not seen him since you left.

You heard some shuffling on the other line, arguing, and then a series of thumps. 

“Swiss?” You called, brows furrowed in concern. No response.

“Baby?” You tried again. “Everything okay?”

“Fine!” It was faint, but you sighed in relief. More shuffling, and you winced as a high pitched sound filled the mic, before another voice greeted you. In the background, you could hear what sounded like wrestling, and protests.

“Are we playing Minecraft?” The voice chirped, and you laughed when you realized. 

“Cirrus!” You greeted, and she responded in kind. “Yeah, Swiss and I were playing. Bitch used all my iron though.” You teased, knowing that he could hear you. He always tended to, especially with the heightened hearing that ghouls seemed to have. 

“Mhm, sounds like him.” Cirrus laughed, Swiss shrieking behind her as she hijacked the game. “We miss yoooou,” Cirrus complained, absently running around in the world. “You coming back anytime soon? Someone needs to keep this guy in line.”

You laughed softly, making sure that you sounded sad. “No, I wish though. I would love to come home.” 

“Oh sh- gotta go!” Cirrus rushed out, sounding like she had the mic pressed to her face. “Hey!” She sounded distant now, and you heard a grunt before Swiss’ voice came back. 

He was arguing with the other ghouls in the room, and it took a few minutes for him to push them out. When he did, Swiss groaned before apologizing. 

“Sorry, princess.” He murmured. “They forcefully removed you from me,” Swiss sighed dramatically. “I fought hard.”

“I’m sure you did.” You snorted. The two of you talked for a while longer, as you always did. Eventually, you both were yawning over the phone. You climbed into bed, taking your laptop with you as you got cozy.

A frown came over your face as you fought yet another yawn, not wanting to hang up. “You should head to sleep, sweet thing.” Swiss murmured, sounding exhausted himself.

You simply hummed in response. It was times like these that you truly felt the distance. It’d been a hard year, especially since you two had just become serious two weeks before you had to leave. The two of you said your sappy goodbyes, before you finally pressed the dreaded hang-up button.

With a sad sigh, you curled up in your bed. It was warm and fluffy underneath your blankets, especially as you clutched a giant plushie to your chest, and yet you still felt empty. The week couldn’t go by soon enough. 

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

Bundle of Joy

In which Reader takes Copia to see the babies in the ministry. Sfw, fluff. I tried to write this so he could be seen as Cardinal or as Papa. Either way I hope you find it adorable 🥰

@copiousloverofcopia

Also low-key inspired by this post 💅✨

• • •

"Come on, come on!" you chirp, dragging your beloved Copia behind you.

"Oh... I don't know, mia cara," he starts, clearly not wanting to hurt your feelings, "I don't even really know how I feel about having kids."

"Copia," you stop dragging him and move close to him, your hands find his cheeks and his finding your waist, "It's not like we're having a baby tomorrow, and I know how stressed you've been lately. Trust me it'll brighten your day, they're just little bundles of joy."

"Ah, well, okie dokie. I am putting my trust in you."

"You should always trust me," you wink at him, "besides, as Papa, I'm sure you'll have to give some thought to having kids one day. Maybe this'll warm you up to the idea."

You happily continue dragging him along to the maternity ward of the ministry. It was always hustling and bustling over there as Siblings of Sin and Ghouls ran around getting towels, water, ice, painkillers, whatever the new mamas needed to bring their newborns into this world. Just the thought of it made Copia look like he wanted to pass out.

But just a quick walk through the chaos brought you to a very peaceful room, this was primarily where you worked in the ministry: taking care of the newborns who were sick or just needed more time being monitored before being sent home with their parents. In fact, a couple of Siblings sat next to one of the tiny beds cooing their newborn now.

As one of the little ones piped up very loudly to express their disapproval, Copia leaned into muttering, "That does not sound like a 𝘣𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘫𝘰𝘺, as you put it, cara."

Giggling at his remark, you stride over to the cradle of the upset baby, scooping them up soothe them. Another baby nearby starts to grumble and whine, hearing their neighbor be so loud. "Here, why don't you take that one?" you call out to your lover.

"I, uh, I don't know..." he walks over to the cradle, watching the little one make a grouchy face and whine some more.

You keep bouncing the newborn in your arms, trying to keep them quiet so they don't upset the other babies. But still they continue to cry.

Finally, as Copia stares down at the newborn in the cradle, they lay out a shriek. Copia winces at the sounds. Now you can't have every baby in the room getting upset, so you rush over to Copia, handing him the bundle in your arms, before reaching out to get the second crying baby. The man next to you is flustered but does everything he can to make sure he has a good grip on the small little person in his arms. He's not sure what to do, so he just kind of stares blankly at the baby and sways in place a little.

As you walk and bounce the one in your arms, you quietly hear a giggle come from the blanket in Copia's arms. "Erhhh... What's it doing?"

You come up next to your lover to see the little one giving him a gummy smile and laughing away. "They're laughing at the big silly man holding them. Here-" you shove the other noisy bundle in his arms, "try this one."

He stands there, two babies in his arms, certainly confused and a little overwhelmed. Sure enough, cries turn to laughter once again.

"See? Bundles of joy," you point out, "You must have the magic touch." Truthfully, it was probably his face paint, but you weren't gonna be the one to tell him.

He carefully sits both babes in the cradle next to him, leaning over to look at their little hands and mouths and noses. "Tesoro..." he whispers, not wanting to upset anyone again, "they're so small!" Fascination fills his eyes as he watches their tiny fingers wrap around his one large gloved one. He gasps, "Look!!!" The fascination quickly turned to a small frown as the baby stuck his expensive Italian leather glove in their mouth. "Do they all do that?"

You let out a snort, "Yes, they all do that."

Copia wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, kissing you on the forehead, "Bene." Perhaps he'll give some thought to this whole baby thing after all.

[hchollym]

Hello! So, this might seem like a weird ask. The whole thing is based on the canon world, that is wizards and stuff. Everything that's going on in the books is still happening! I just don't want you to confuse this with a Muggle/No magic AU.

My question is, if Percy—for some random reason please suspend your disbelief here—decided to become an EMT in the muggle world (without using magic that is), how would his family react to it?

Again, the things that happen in the books are still happening, the only thing is that Percy's decided to go into muggle EMT instead of the Ministry.

Like, would they be kinda mad because Percy is putting muggle stuff/outside stuff over the war they're fighting?

Or would they be much more understanding? Maybe think Percy's cooler? Ngl, I'm asking you this for the sake of my daydreams.

Sorry for taking so long to respond! 🙁

Oh wow! That is a very unique idea/question! 😄

Do you mean that Percy became an EMT right after Hogwarts (instead of working for Barty Crouch)?

That would be super interesting!

Hmm... 🤔 You know, I surprisingly don't think most of them would react badly.

Arthur

Arthur is obsessed with muggles. However, he does not seem to see them as equals. In his mind, muggles are poor fools that need to be protected. It's less like fighting for racial equality and more like people fighting for animal rights.

In Book 2, he states:

“Just Muggle-baiting,” sighed Mr. Weasley. “Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it.. Of course, it��s very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking — they’ll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they’ll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it’s staring them in the face…"

Then in Book 4, when Fred gives Dudley Ton-Tongue Toffee, he says:

“It isn’t funny!” Mr. Weasley shouted. “That sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard–Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons —”

So he probably doesn't think Percy is making a good decision to actually work in the muggle world, but I don't think he gets too upset about it either. If anything, he may see this as an opportunity for him to learn more about a topic that he clearly enjoys, and it could potentially help his cause by having proof (from Percy's testimony) that muggles deserve to be treated fairly.

Molly

I definitely think Molly reacts the worst out of everyone. She doesn't hate muggles, but she certainly isn't overly fond of them either.

She definitely dislikes Arthur's obsession with them (though in her defense, that probably has more to do with him wasting money on it/focusing on it instead of helping her with the kids/house).

In Book 4, Arthur says,

“Ah yes, I can see the plugs. I collect plugs,” he added to Uncle Vernon. “And batteries. Got a very large collection of batteries. My wife thinks I’m mad, but there you are.”

Also, what's even more telling is that in Book 1, when the Weasleys are at King's Cross Station, Harry overhears her say:

"-- packed with Muggles, of course --"

I know that JKR included this line so that Harry could identify another wizarding family, but she should have used something else (like Platform 9 ¾) instead, because they are literally in a muggle train station, so the comment seems unnecessary and rude. Think about if you went to Chinatown and said "packed with Chinese people, of course."

Plus, Molly wants all of her children to work at the Ministry of Magic. This is a comment in Book 4 (about the twins):

“And then there was this big row,” Ginny said, “because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop.”

This is the same instance where she literally burned all of their order forms. She seems to have (sort of) accepted Bill & Charlie's choices, as well as Fred & George's joke shop (after they make a lot of money), but Percy is the child that she expected to go into the Ministry the most.

There would definitely be a massive row with her.

Fred & George

They likely wouldn't care much, because they clearly don't mind muggles either. In Book 4, after they gave Dudley the Ton-Tongue Toffee and Arthur yells at them, they say:

“We didn’t give it to him because he’s a Muggle!” said Fred indignantly. “No, we gave it to him because he’s a great bullying git,” said George. “Isn’t he, Harry?”

If anything, I think they love that Percy is now the family "disappointment" because they've spent so long getting yelled at by Molly that this is a nice change of pace. Plus, it takes the pressure off them. Even if they open a joke shop in the wizarding world, Molly still won't be as angry with them as she is with Percy.

Suddenly "Perfect Percy" isn't so perfect anymore, and it probably (ironically) improves their relationship.

Bill, Charlie, Ron, & Ginny

They are probably all rather incredulous about the entire thing and think Percy is mental for not wanting to work in the wizarding world (and Hermione encourages this idea because she clearly wants nothing to do with the muggle world anymore), but I really don't think they treat him badly over it.

They probably just think he's finally cracked under all the pressure he puts on himself, and if this gets him to loosen up, then it's not all bad.

I do think Charlie & Ginny would find it a little cool though, and they're both more likely to actually talk to Percy about his new life, whereas Bill & Ron will probably avoid the topic altogether.

Other Thoughts

One of the most interesting parts about this AU is that is has the potential to drastically change the story. If Percy doesn't work for Barty Crouch, then chances are, whoever is in his position doesn't do as good of a job running the department on their own, so people figure out something is wrong with Mr. Crouch much sooner.

Once that happens, they (i.e. Dumbledore) may very well be able to put the pieces together about Barty Crouch Jr., and then his plan fails, Harry never goes to the graveyard, Cedric never dies, and Voldemort never officially returns in a body. So is the war even going on anymore? Possibly not for a few more years while Voldemort tries to capture Harry!

Even if the war continues in the exact same way as canon, I think Percy's job in the muggle world could actually be beneficial. He could be there to prevent some of the damage & protect the muggles, and he could help muggleborns & their families escape through the muggle world in a way that wouldn't be traced back to them.

There's a lot of potential there for a great fanfic! 😉

Thanks for the ask! 😊

[therealvinelle]

Hello! If Voldemort was trying to destroy wizarding society, as you say in your (wonderful!) meta, what would he do if he actually controlled the Wizarding World? Would he kill Muggleborns and half-bloods? What about magical creatures, like giants and goblins? Does he just want the purebloods to die and for Muggleborns to take their place, or does he want to get rid of magic altogether until there are no wizarding folk left? I love the idea that Voldemort wants to burn down the Wizarding World but I can’t imagine how he’d do it, if he won

(Anon is referring to mine and @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin's view of Tom Riddle, which is that he is a wants everything to burn.)

We see what he does in canon.

In Deathly Hallows Tom controls the Ministry, Hogwarts, the press, the legislation, Azkaban, and his enemies are either dead or on the run. The Order is left with no leader, no organisation, no plan, stumbling onward because "It's not over yet, guys!" and Dumbledore's Army is a bunch of kids camping in the Room of Requirement cosplaying as District 13.

Tom had won.

This is bad news for Muggleborns everywhere, as he immediately begins persecuting them. As it so happens, he's also turned Hogwarts into a hellscape where Death Eaters torture the students and force them to torture one another, and, if recollection serves, Diagon Alley has boarded up storefronts and beggars on the streets.

Tom was crashing the economy and ensuring the new generation of wizards would be so traumatized, if they survived at all, that what little magic they did learn would only be curses to inflict upon weaker people. Him granting rights to magical creatures follows this pattern: notice how the creatures Tom allied with were consistently dark creatures. He's not making friends with the house-elves and the centaurs, but with the dementors and werewolves, promising to give them fee reign.

Envision what the Wizarding World would become after five years of this.

(This is without getting into what it sounds like the 70's were like, which was a painful, dragged out terrorist campaign designed to ruin people's faith in not just the authorities, but in their peers as well.

Not the work of a man who wants to become a nationbuilder.)

In other words, there's no "Surprise! I was Robin Hood all along, and now I give the keys to the kingdom to the downtrodden" reveal. As it is, the ones who think they've been given the keys to the kingdom will start cannibalizing themselves very soon.

There's just destruction.

[jmagnabo92]

GGSB Fest 2024 Day 1 - A Terrible Discovery

@goodgodfathersiriusblack

For Prompt 32 - Adventures

When Sirius returns from the veil after being in it for five minutes, everything changes. A conversation about adventures leads to a different end to the war.

AO3

***

Things had been rather chaotic in the last week since the DOM.  Sirius had somehow managed to walk out of the veil unscathed and clearer than ever.  He’d run after Harry (who believed he died and had gone after Bellatrix) and had gotten caught fighting her and Voldemort to protect Harry.

With the entire Ministry witnessing this and the way Harry had clung to him afterward, things had changed.  Sirius had been cleared. Harry had only returned to school long enough to check on his friends and gather his things. They found a home in the wilderness, somewhere that had a lot of land and he had used every protection spell he knew (which was a lot since he could go through his father’s books, and he was a paranoid son of a bitch that never every protection spell known to man) on before move-in day.  

Unfortunately, neither of them had much to move in with, and had to go shopping for basically everything. 

Thus, Sirius had put off having a potentially difficult conversation for an entire week, but now that things are settled, he makes them both a cup of strong tea and takes it out to the back deck where they can sit and enjoy the freedom, they’ve both been craving. 

“So… I, er, I know a lot has happened this week and in the last few years…”

“You’re not going to make me tell you my adventures, are you?” Harry asks, a slightly groan in his voice.

Sirius sighs.  “The war is going to get a lot worse now that he’s out in the open.  There’s no more getting away with things – everyone will know it’s him, so it’s better to talk them out now with whatever details there are so we can figure out how to end him for good.”

“I thought you said that the prophecy is hogwash, and I shouldn’t listen to what everyone’s saying.”

“And I mean that, a hundred percent,” Sirius assures him.  “But he thinks it means something, and I want to protect you by ending him for you.”

Harry looks like he wants to fight him on it – say something about how he doesn’t want Sirius to risk his life for Harry, but he knows that Sirius is adamant that he takes care of Harry, not the other way around.

“And you think my adventures are the key to figuring out how to stop him?”

“I think you have been given information that you may not even realize could be vital to ending him and that’s why he keeps coming after you.”

Harry nods.  “I suppose that makes sense.”

“So, will you tell me?  About these adventures?”

Harry still hesitates.  “If you promise not to go attacking everyone who ever hurt me ‘cause it’s a long list and…”

“I promise.”

“Alright, well, I guess I should tell you a bit about life before Hogwarts first…”

Sirius paid attention to every little detail, getting furious by certain treatments (and noting that Harry clearly wasn’t safe at the Dursleys), but noting specific mentions of his scar as he listens to Harry’s adventures because he knows that scar is important… he’s just not sure what is so special about it.

There were some things that Sirius thought were normal kid things – agreeing to a midnight duel and accidently coming across a three headed dog – that’s just Hogwarts.  Crazy things happened in Hogwarts all the time… trolls though… that was new.  Still, Harry survived, but then, his first quidditch match…

How had no one done anything to help aside from Snape?  Why had Hagrid dismissed Harry’s concerns?

His questions continue as he listens.  Things get worse – Harry choosing to help Hagrid and nearly getting killed because he was sent to the Forbidden Forest on his own at eleven.  He worries about the centaurs’ prophecies.  He doesn’t like that they’re right about war or their worries about interrupting what’s meant to be.  

Still, despite being put through a bit of hell to the point of wanting to quit quidditch, the worst part is going to the professors and getting no help whatsoever and feeling like he has to handle it on his own.  It makes him furious that eleven-year-old Harry felt like all of this was on his shoulders already.  

As Harry goes through the tasks, he confesses that Dumbledore probably set him up, to test him.  Let him face Voldemort on his own.  It makes Sirius crush his cup of tea and they pause the story to get another cup.  

Only knowing that he made it out alive had appeased Sirius into stopping him from going and confronting Dumbledore.  The rest of the story was important.  Voldemort had let Quirrell die, he couldn’t touch Harry, but Harry’s scar had a connection with Voldemort.  He’d mentioned it before and it was obvious from this past year, but Sirius can’t help writing it down in his notes.  He’s sure that there’s something he’s seen in his family’s books about the situation.

Still, Harry presses on.  He goes into details about his second year that nearly has Sirius breaking his promise not to throttle anyone and risk getting sent back to prison.  

It’s only Harry stating, “You got me away from them, don’t get me sent back,” that stops him.

He takes a deep breath and says, “I’m sorry.  I just think you deserve better.”

“I know that now, but I – I have you now.  Don’t ruin it.”

“I – I promise not to ruin it,” Sirius states, in fact, he has a calming potion somewhere.  He summons it, causing Harry to give him a confused look.  He downs it and then says, “Please go on.”

Harry gives him a look, but does begin speaking, again.  He details some truly horrific things as the events of his second year unfold.  Even with the calming drought, he absolutely wanted to strangle a few people, but he did know the gist – hints from stories of his adventures from his professors, and he manages to get to the chamber without breaking another cup.  He’s sure that’s to do with the calming potion.

Harry attempts to gloss over the interaction with teenage Riddle, but Sirius stops him.  “This is when you probably gained the most information.  Teenage Riddle would’ve been more open less cautious about what he shared not that Voldemort’s any better when he thinks he’s won.”

Harry nods and details everything.  The important bits included the possession being different than a normal possession, draining Ginny life force, and ending it by stabbing the book.  That was telling. 

Regular magic couldn’t end him, and he needed something extremely difficult to overcome (the only reason Harry’s still here is because Phoenix tears can do just that).  It was something nearly indestructible that Sirius had an awful feeling he knows what it is, deep down, and he’s going to have a difficult time ending Voldemort with this information.

Still, Harry continues on, finishing the story and causing Sirius to be curious about the Malfoy of it all.  Perhaps it’s time to get more information about them out of Kreacher.  

Then Harry details some things about third and fourth year, most of which Sirius already knows.  He pauses before the graveyard.  “Do you want to hear it all, again?”

“It would be helpful, yes,” Sirius states.  He offers his hand for Harry to squeeze.  “Take your time, I’m right here.”

Harry nods, reassured.  It’s slow going, detailing everything again, but Sirius pays closer attention this time.  Particularly to Voldemort’s own speech and idea that he went further than anyone else to be immortal.  It brings him back to the horrible book, the way that he was wraith, and the way his scar reacts to him… there’s something there, he’s sure of it.

Especially when Harry tells him about this year with the feelings and visions.  There’s a connection there that has something niggling in the back of Sirius’ mind.  

“… and that’s it really,” Harry says, after he explains about Voldemort’s failed possession of him.  “I haven’t felt anything since.”  

Sirius nods.  Voldemort’s probably realized that if he can see into Harry’s world then Harry can see into his and it’s just as dangerous as it his beneficial.  He’s more proficient in occlumency (and Sirius will be going after Snape for his behavior) and it makes it easier for him to block out Harry.

There’s a hefty pause before Harry asks, “Do you really think knowing will help you?”

“I think it already has.  I’ve got some ideas for what’s really going on, but I need to look at some books.”

“Can I help?  Please.”

He wants to say no, but he knows that if anyone deserves to be a part of this, it’s Harry.  Especially since Dumbledore’s already stated his intention to start telling him things.  

“Alright, kid, we can do this together.”

“Brilliant.”

***

It takes weeks of painstaking research and a rather unfortunate conversation with Kreacher (he really hates the elf now) before he has some basic ideas of what Voldemort’s been doing – horcruxes.  Worse yet, more than one.  Harry had already killed one – the diary.  Regulus had stolen a second that Sirius was able to kill with magical death fire – Slytherin’s locket.  

How many others were there? 

Well, based on his conversation with Dumbledore, four.  He had wanted to slowly parse out the memories he’d been gathering over the years ever since he believed how deep into the dark arts that Voldemort had gone, but Sirius wasn’t having any of it.  It was a waste of time, and he wanted to end Voldemort as soon as possible. 

Maybe Harry could have one normal year of school, finally.

Dumbledore relented and with Harry’s knowledge and discussions with the ghosts of Hogwarts, they were able to determine that Voldemort had a snake, Hufflepuff’s cup, Ravenclaw’s diadem, and the Gaunt ring.  Dumbledore had already taken care of the ring.  Which left three.

It hadn’t taken much prying – given the orders he could give to Kreacher, however unpleasant, to get the information about the cup being in Bellatrix’s vault.  Bringing in Kingsley and Bill, they managed to get an order to obtain her vault and get ahold of it without breaking in.  Sirius had the rights to do it since she was a convicted criminal.  Technically, Narcissa or Andy (even disowned) could’ve done the same thing as a member of the Blacks, but luckily for him, they hadn’t.  

Harry had been the one to suggest that Voldemort could’ve put the diadem in the room of requirement.  Surely there was a room of hidden things that would make it seem plausible.  

The room itself was beyond anything they had anticipated, but with the Order finally doing something, it was attacked with vigor.  

It took a few weeks of searching, but finally, finally, they found it.  On the bust of the worst headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen, but finally.

Sirius happily raised the Sword of Gryffindor and sliced it in half, watching as it screams and disappears. 

One to go.  

***

“We should just attack Malfoy Manor,” Sirius states.  He’s surrounded by Order members and Aurors.  The Head Auror looking quite like he can’t believe he’s taking orders from an ex-(innocent)-fugitive.  “We know he and his snake –”

“Nagini,” Harry pipes up from beside him.

“Right, Nagini, are in there,” Sirius states.  “We don’t know how aware he is of what we’ve done, but once he knows he will move, and it will be difficult to pin him down.  We can’t let that happen.  He could end up making more – unstable as his soul already is – and we would have no ideas.”

“He doesn’t seem to be aware when one is killed, only if someone tells him,” Harry states.  “That’s why he knows about the diary.”

“Potter’s right,” Snape states, quite looking like he hates the words spilling from his mouth.  “But we won’t have long before he does figure it out.  He’s already suspicious and paranoid.”

“Let’s take the time, plan it right,” Moody states.  “We’re only going to have one shot – we can’t screw this up.”

“Then, let’s plan.”

***

That evening after hours of planning, Sirius is summoned to Hogwarts.  He’s not terribly happy about this, but with assurances that Harry (with Ron and Hermione relaxing for the night) will be okay, he goes.  

“It’s been a long day, Albus,” Sirius states. “We’re very close to ending this and now that it’s in the Ministry’s hands…”

“It’s not, Sirius,” Dumbledore states.  “Because there’s something I haven’t told you.”

“More?” Sirius asks.  “I thought we agreed –”

“I couldn’t tell you in front of Harry.”

“Tell me what?”

“When Voldemort’s unstable soul split the night he attacked the Potters, one part became a wraith, while the other part went into Harry’s scar, that’s why it acts the same way some of the horcruxes.  Giving him visions and feelings of Voldemort’s – why they’re so connected.”

Sirius takes a deep breath.  He’d known this for a while.  It was the only thing that made sense and it was why he’d been working with a healer out of the country to find a way to remove it before the final raid.  

“I know.”

“So, you know that he must die?”

“No!” Sirius nearly yells.  “He doesn’t have to die, what – you – are you serious?  All this time, you planned for him to die?”

“He should survive, if he walks to his death willingly,” Dumbledore states.  “When Voldemort took his blood –”

“That was two years ago,” Sirius states.  “Which means, before that, you thought – you figured… how could you?”

“There weren’t any other options –”

“Yes, there are!  I’ve been working with a healer, Dumbledore.  One who figured out a way to remove his scar – he doesn’t have to die,” Sirius states.  “How could you think that keeping him alive all of this time just to have him die at the right moment was okay?”

“I assumed it was necessary because of the prophecy,” Dumbledore states, somewhat ashamed.  “I thought intervening would prevent the prophecy from being fulfilled.”

“Not all prophecies are fulfilled.  Some aren’t meant to be, and you could have saved Harry a lot of trouble had you done the right thing with regards to this situation… instead…”

Sirius doesn’t wait for a response.  Instead, he storms over to the fireplace.  

“It’s a good thing that he has me to actually look for a solution and find one.  Planning his death, I can’t believe you.”

Without another word, he’s back home and his terrible mood is obvious to the kids, but he waves them off.  “Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks, Sirius.”

***

In the morning, Harry sits across from him with tea and a grim smile.  “He knew?”

“He did, I’m sorry, kid,” Sirius states.  “Although he believed you would survive because he took your blood if you let him kill you, that only became a thing after the graveyard…”

“Wow,” Harry says, softly.  “I suppose that I should’ve known somehow…”

“No, no.  You believed in him just like everyone else.  There’s nothing wrong with that,” Sirius assures him.  “I think he just… doesn’t always look for other answers.  The important thing is that we’re getting rid of the scar and by the end of the week, he’ll be gone, too.”

“That does sound pretty great.  You’ll stay with me?”

“Always.”

***

The procedure goes well, and on Friday Morning the Daily Prophet has this headline:

You-Know-Who Defeated: The Chosen One’s Innocent Godfather For The Win!

Sirius doesn’t care for the attention on either he or Harry.  All he cares about is Harry’s grin as he sits across from him at the table. 

“Think this means I’ll finally have a normal year?” Harry asks, hopefully.

“I think this best chance you’ll get to have one,” Sirius offers.  “Thank you for having the difficult conversation at the start of the summer.  Now, you’ll be able to go back to school and not worry about anymore adventures.”

Harry smiles.  “Thank you for everything, Sirius.  This means more to me than I could ever explain.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Kid.  I’m always here for you, always.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Good.”

[gravehags]

was inspired by @wisteria-lodge’s questions to get to know your character and wanted to answer them for curator reader

1. What is the character’s go-to drink order?

Has become mildly addicted to the sweet cream cold brew they serve in the dining hall of the Ministry but loves any kind of large iced beverage. For alcohol she won’t turn down anything but she loves gin and her favorite cocktail is a French 75 or an Aviation.

2. What is their grooming routine?

Showers at night in order to get the grime of the day off her before she crawls into bed. Is very low maintenance with her hair simply because she has no patience for it. Washes hair every two days.

3. What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go?

ART BOOKS. She’s an avid collector, particularly of exhibition catalogues. Her penchant for buying them has only gotten worse now that she has access to the Ministry’s resources.

4. Do they have any scars or tattoos?

Small scars everywhere from various mishaps, a big one on her knee from a bicycling accident as a kid, and a large tattoo on her left thigh of Judith with the head of Holofernes.

5. What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances?

Cries a lot. Like…a lot. Very emotional and while she might hate crying in front of people, it happens more often than she would like. Copia is the only person she doesn’t feel embarrassed to be emotional in front of.

6. Are they an oldest, middle, youngest, or only child?

Only child though she desperately wishes she had a sister, she doesn’t care older or younger. Was a surprise pregnancy for her parents.

7. Describe the shoes they’re wearing

Her go-to shoes to wear every day while she works are her black leather lace up ankle boots with a short heel. She fondly refers to them as her “witch boots” and also has a pair in brown.

8. Describe the place where they sleep

Her room is her safe haven - queen bed with lots of soft covers in different shades of blue. Definitely owns a Blåhaj. When she moved in at the abbey her room was painfully bare and she immediately started collecting artwork to decorate every inch of wall space. Found some great pieces in abbey storerooms and asked Sister Imperator if she could steal them - Imperator agreed.

9. What is their favorite holiday?

If you had asked her pre-events of Satan Baby she would have said Halloween but now? She adores Yule. Least favorite holiday is St. Patrick’s Day and it’s definitely not because she made a drunken fool of herself at a parade one year 👀

10. What objects do they always carry around with them?

Keys to her quarters and office on a lanyard around her neck, phone, the ring her parents gave her when she graduated college, a deep unspeakable yearning.

[princess-of-the-corner]

MHA-Monster AU

K, two things

1) the “Hikari kid” is Aoyama. Either he gets adopted or he was part of a deal with AfO to get him to leave Hikari alone. (oh god, why did I type it like that, DISCLAIMER, THIS IS SOUNDING WORSE THAN I MEANT IT, LIKE IT WAS MEANT TO BE BAD ANYWAY, BUT NOT LIKE THAT, ABORT ABORT, I meant that AfO uses some of Hikari’s magic to MAKE Aoyama, sort of Changeling-Hybrid, Hikari doesn’t know that’s what AfO did with it!)

2) The HPSC still exist. However, instead of an agency that works with the characters, they are the “Human Protection and Security Commission”. They’re all Hunters, seeking to “protect” humanity, by wiping all monsters into extinction.

-

Honestly they’re def adopting him because idk what the terms of it are but his family still has their own more willing Deal with AfO. (Hell that one could’ve been a ‘i’ll give you power for your firstborn’ thing)

As for the Commission: I’m not really doing that with them in the like. They’re gonna be low-key like. Not to make another Harry Potter comparison but like how you have the Ministry of Magic that deals with all the Magic Law and does work alongside Human Law.

And like. In the grand scheme of things they are here to protect the Magical community and encourage those who would use their talents to help out. But they also are corrupt and do their own things.

[lil-gae-disaster]

okay so uhm. Decided write more Nox and Clorinde. Clorinde focused. Yeah uh. Enjoy. Rather short, I'd say.

The summer you were gone

30 June 2009

It wasn't like Nox to just disappear over night. Heck, it scared the fuck out of Clorinde when she caught wind of it.

At 10 in the morning, she decided to show up at his doorstep - something the 23 year old did regularly during her time as student. This time, however, she decided to pay her brother a visit for some wonderful news - she might start teaching at Hogwarts in a year or two. What she didn't expect upon arriving is no response to her knocks and an unlocked door. Weird, he never leaves without locking the door. He might life far from civilization, but his paranoia makes him always lock his house. But maybe he just didn't hear her knocking.

"Sorry for barging in like that, but you didn't answer- Eh?" She expected a response from Kimmy, her brother's Kneazle, at least, but the house was completely empty. It also looked like the 36 year old left in a hurry. Or he forgot to tidy up before leaving, she can't tell. Looking around, the young woman notices a note left behind. And the writing on the note was definitely her brother's messy writing.

I don't know who's reading this and honestly it doesn't really matter. Fact is, I won't be home for a while. There are currently some problems with magical creatures in trouble and, even though i don't work with them anymore, the ministry of magic asked me if I could help rescuing them. Frankly, I don't know how long I'll be gone, but I hope it's not for too long.

And under that, his signature. Of course, the note had a few spelling mistakes, some even alright crossed out and corrected by the dyslexic man himself. Even though the note was most likely supposed to calm her, she felt even more confused and irritated.

"He's gone, just like that? What the heck! What's gonna happen to his stupid house now." Grumbling angrily, she leaves the house again, locking the door with the hidden extra key. She'd just take care of the house whilst his absence.

Clorinde would never admit it unless under the influence of Veritaserum, but she's somewhat worried about her brother. She's being irrational, considering his duelling experience as former Auror. He'd be able to defend himself if he'd need it, plus, he wouldn't be alone. But still, she's worried he'll stress himself even more. He's only 36 and his hair is already graying slightly from the shit he's been through lately, it might only get worse.

✩ ✩ ✩

12 October 2011

"Professor Sallow, I think I saw a person moving up ahead."

"Don't be irrational, Mister Clemmons. The only people here right now are the students in this class."

But deep down, the stoic Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher knew that the Gryffindor prefect was right. There was someone else here. She saw the rather hunched person too. And she knew exactly who it was.

"Professor, are you sure?" These kids were going to be the death of her.

"You know what, class dismissed. I will escort you back to the castle and investigate this later."

And so, later that day, she found herself in the forest again, a lantern in her hand and her wand in the other. It took her a while, but then she saw a bonfire up ahead on a clearing. Upon stepping onto it, she immediately saw who she expected: Her older brother, with a few Puffskeins and his Kneazle, Kimmy, cuddled close to him. As he catches sight of her, his expression shows surprise. "Clorinde?"

He looked tired, exhausted even. His hair had, as already expected by her, a few more gray streaks than before. His eyes were droopy and tired and his clothes were torn at some points, especially his sleeves. Even his hands were adorned by scratches. But how'd she tell him how terrible he looks without sounding mean? Especially after not having seen eachother for a while?

"By Merlin's beard, you look like shit."

smooth, Clorinde, smooth.