#the manor house girls are superior

[zee-has-commitment-issues]

Tonight I'm thinking about how everyone in Forest Ridge and Manor House (and most of Hillerska in general) just lived with the knowledge that "Wilhelm and Simon from math class had sex and now it's everyone's problem. The Crown Prince now wants to abdicate, and the socialist is angrily pelting people with dodgeballs. Also, they cheated to get on the rowing team together, so now we fucking suck at sports too."

Idk I just think they all deserve a medal or something for the mental gymnastics they all had to do to keep up.

[enchantedescapist]

Theodore Nott Headcannons/Background

IT'S KINDA MESSY WRITTEN BUT I LIKE IT SO GIVE IT A CHANCE :)

Theodore Nott was born on October 26th (scorpio) at Florence,Italy and he was raised at the city of Salisbury in Southern England .He is quiet, exceptionally intelligent, and a pretty handsome boy; he doesn't have a superiority complex like others in his friendgroup, but he is very confident and charming carrying also a pride for his house (Slytherin). He has his friends ( Mattheo Riddle,Draco Malfoy,Blaise Zabini,Enzo Berkshire) - but he is a quiet loner an introvert but without that making him antisocial..in fact he is very good with words and fast come backs.He’s very much an observer of the world around him, judging everyone and making wry, snarky, generally sarcastic comments about them in his head and sometimes not only in his head.Theodere might seem the most cold and distant in the friendgroup but he is in his core a kind person ,with humour always making his closest people laugh and generous you just need to know him first and make him feel comfortable otherwise he is very mysterious and private with his life.

Despite being labeled as a "fuckboy" in his friend group and the whole Hogwarts do be in fact ,due to his flirting tendencies,his attractive appearance and his charming words, Theodore craves genuine love and connection. He enjoys attention, especially from girls, but deep down, he desires a meaningful relationship.

Theodore’s mother Rosalina died when he was a young child. She had a rare illness that gradually caused her to lose the ability to use magic - weakening her and pretty much turning her into a Squib, although Theodore didn’t see it that way, but his father did: Tiberius Nott refused to visit his wife in the hospital and basically pretended that she didn’t exist (although he did pay for a private suite in St. Mungo’s.) Theodore, although perhaps six or seven, visited his mother alone, learning how to take the Floo Network to St. Mungo’s to visit and often staying there.

He was present when Rosalina Nott died, providing him with the ability to see thestrals. It also gave him the determination to become a Healer when he graduated from Hogwarts.: it’s his overriding ambition, and he’s utterly driven to succeed. He was particularly good at Potions, and eventually became Potions Master for St. Mungo’s.Its important to mention that Theodore was a good student but he wasnt studying for hours like others ,he was simply doing the bare minimum and that was enough for him.

Theodore’s also a skilled Occlumens - and self-taught, since it’s a skill he found both interesting and useful. (As other skills go, his best subject is Potions; he often finds himself second in the class behind Hermione - third behind Harry in sixth year - something he resents Hermione for. He’s rather baffled by Harry’s sudden sixth-year success but ascribes it to Slughorn’s favoritism.) 5. Is known to everyone that Theodore loves quidditch, he is probably the best beater in the slytherin team.He is very passionate about it and its also a way for him to let his anger out and feel more free ( just go to therapy you have alot of job to do darling) 6.Theodore Nott is also a pragmatic realist but he doesnt believe in blood purity ideology,he is nowhere near as gung-ho as Draco. In fact, he hopes to wait until the war is over and thinks of joining the DEs as something that he’s obligated to do rather than what he genuinely wants to do. (The masks, the grandiose speeches, the pretense of anonymity when he knows practically everyone in the Dark Lord’s inner circle - it’s all utterly ridiculous to him.) 7. He spent the most Christmas alone if he is not invited to the Malfoy manor (which is very grateful for Narcissa and Lucius wanting him), his father is in Azkaban for the Department of Mysteries attack and…many other things but its whatever for him they were not getting along ever ( childhood trauma), and Theodore has no surviving relatives, family members and he doesnt prefer to stay at Hogwarts to face the pity of someone like Albus Dumbledore.Theodore's childhood was marked by loneliness, especially during the holidays alone in an empty house, his only gifts from the family house-elves who rummaged through the attic in an attempt to cheer him up - his Christmas holiday was generally cold, lonely, and sad. 8. Theo was also having a difficulty producing his patronus ( a Husky ) but there was always a memory which made him succeed and find peace the same time …(In the sitting room of the Nott Manor, the young Theodore sits beside his mother, Rosalina, at the grand piano. The room is filled with the soft glow of candlelight. Rosalina's fingers gracefully glide over the keys, coaxing out a melody that fills the air with warmth.As Theodore watches his mother play, a small smile graces his lips, and his eyes light up with admiration. He listens intently, completely enraptured by the music flowing from her fingertips.

With a gentle nudge from Rosalina, Theodore tentatively places his own small hands on the keys, mirroring her movements as they play together. Despite his initial hesitation, he soon finds his rhythm, the music becoming a harmonious duet between them.In that moment, young Theodore feels a sense of peace and contentment wash over him). It's a memory he'll carry with him always, a precious reminder of the bond they share and the joy found in the simple pleasure. Still that day, you can find Theodore playing piano when he feels valunerable or misses his mother a lot, he also doesnt say he can play piano but merlin knows why.

**REPOST AND LIKE IF YOU WANT PART 2! I was so happy while writting it haha.

[somefanficrecomendations]

December Monthly Roundup

Here's December's fic round up!

DC/BATMAN

Worlds Saddest Breakfast Club by motleyfam   (gen)7k, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd-Centric Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack. Turns out he isn’t the only one awake.

Batstream by RandomReader13 (gen), 6k, Bats on social media, Humor   “I want it on record that I think this is a terrible idea and I’m only doing this to mitigate the damage." AKA Red Robin decides it's a great idea to livestream patrol while Batman's off-world. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

cards on the table by wesslan (gen) 67k, WIP, Fortune Teller AU, Tim Drake-Centric  Tim's parents faked their deaths and fled the country years ago, but neglected to take him with them. He spent some time on the streets, and now at 16, he makes a living as a fortune teller, stalking and hustling the shit out of Gotham's elite by telling them eerily accurate fortunes based on the information he gathers about them.  His life is peculiar but he wouldn't change a thing. When he gets booked for the big Wayne Halloween party, however, he finds himself getting all tangled up with the Waynes, and the more fortunes he tells, the tighter the snare becomes.  or: Tim just wanted to scam Gotham's elite, not end up on the Batfamily's watchlist. But it seems they just won't leave him alone..

(a not so) lonesome town by wesslan   (gen), 10k, 2-part series, Sentient Gotham, Jazz music. Two works in which Gotham City is sentient and adopts enough kids to rival Batman himself (Batman is one of them).

Banshee in a Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee) (gen), 43k, Meta Tim, Resurrection Powers   Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.  When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.  But most of all, Tim is alone.  (If you die and no-one is there to see it, were you ever alive in the first place?)

HUNGER GAMES

right here in the old therebefore by californianNostalgia (Katniss/Peeta) 14k, Canon Divergence, Ghosts There’s a ghost at the Hanging Tree. Katniss sees him first when she’s six, her hair in braids, the song about the growing gallows fresh in her mind. This changes nothing. This changes some things. (In which Lucy Gray killed Coriolanus at the lake.)

How Rue Became the Mockingjay by aimmyarrowshigh (multi) 5k, Different 74th Victors AU Katniss Everdeen and the girl from Eleven are ruining their best-laid plans – the Capitol’s and the Rebels’. So Caesar, they say. Announce the change. An alternate chronology for The Hunger Games.

CROSSOVERS

Annabeth and the Nine Step Career Plan by feeling_the_aster_9145 (Annabeth/Percy), 76k, PJO x DCU, Annabeth gets Lex Luthor arrested, BAMF Annabeth. Annabeth Chase does not accept limitations. Everyone knows that. If she wants something, no matter how impossible, she will find a way to make it happen. Though, perhaps she will allow Bruce Wayne and his ridiculous paranoia-induced company restrictions a small portion of the credit. Actually… now that she thinks about it, the man may have had a point in his worries. Wayne Technologies does not accept college interns. Annabeth always has a plan B.

A Lesson in Superiority by Nation-Ustria (gen), 96k, WIP, Batfam x Harry Potter, Damian Wayne is Harry Potter, Wizarding Politics “The good news is, he’s not cursed,” Constantine says. “And the bad news?” Dick asks sharply. Constantine squints. “I wouldn’t call it bad news so much as, er, news.” He turns to Damian with something like a grimace. “You’re a wizard, kid.” “...I’m a what?”

[trafalgarlogy]

If you do yandere had cannons could you please do some with sae with a darling that has the personality of yui from diabolic lovers if you're not too busy

sure!!💕

☰ WEIRD GIRL - SAE ITOSHI

CUSTOMER . @kiannas-stuff TW . Possessiveness, Violence, Reader's personality is kinda like Yui Komori, more like a softie reader? , Manga spoiler, Cringy Writing, Manga events included, Fem! Reader

⊹. . How Did You Meet ?

‎‧₊˚ Sae Itoshi, the Soccer Genius of all of Japan lost to Team " Blue Lock ", had shaken the corners of the nation more than those present in the stadium, and this shocking event became a headline of various news platforms. ‧₊˚ he didn't care much about it in any way as he still believed he was far superior to them for all he could blame was the bunch of weaklings on the team, who let him down. ‧₊˚ he scrolled through the headlines with a tired look on his face, a sigh escaped his lips as he threw his phone to the corner of the bed carelessly, he got up to take his wallet and keys of his manor moving outside in the cold weather. ‧₊˚ He quietly walked to a local convenience store nearby his house, entering the store he was greeted by many stunned faces just looking at him, scoffing them off. ‧₊˚ strolling through the area with his usual poker face, without even realizing his teal eyes caught the view of a (h/c)-ette girl struggling as her hands tried to reach the top of the rack to get something. ‧₊˚ he quietly approached her and raised his hands to get the item that her small hands were struggling to get for so long, he turned towards her to meet the gorgeous face of the girl which he couldn't help but admire. ‧₊˚ The anonymous girl waved her hand in front of his face getting him back into reality, "sir?...are you alright", Sae blinked twice in confusion and turned red in embarrassment, he threw the item into her hands and rushed to another corner, leaving the girl standing there in confusion. ‧₊˚ after a while, he went to the counter with a can of energy drink, placed it on the desk, and the employee got and grab the can to scan the code as Sae quietly watched him, "that'd be 150 yen", he took out his wallet and placed a 1000 yen note making the employee's jaw drop "keep the change." he said walking out of the shop. ‧₊˚ He walked outside the shop to hear the employee scream "THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING!", rolling his eyes as he kept walking, "Sir!" a familiar voice from behind stopped his steps, turning around he saw her again, her panting heavily with her hands on her knees and him glaring at her, he spoke "What...?" ‧₊˚ "Well, I wanted to say Thank you cause you helped me back there," the girl said standing up straight after catching some breath, "and so you took the struggles to catch with me to say this?..." a disgusted look formed on his face, "well yeah! of course, well I guess I'm done here...now I'm going to take my leave" (h/c)-ette bowed and took a turn to leave, "Hey! wait..." the girl turned her head around with one of her eyebrows raised, "Well nevermind...you can go..." Sae said with a sigh. ‧₊˚ "Oh ok...well let's meet some other day!" the girl replied with a smile, the response stunned Sae for a moment, "Sure..." said in a low voice with sarcasm, "btw I'm (Name), remember me ok!" waving a bye before running away. ‧₊˚ "(Name)...", "What a weird girl..." he rolled his eyes.

⊹. . Aftermath

‧₊˚ At first Sae thought you were someone weird for how casually you talked to him in your first meeting. Though, your personality didn't fail to amaze him. ‧₊˚ this simple thought of you took turns into becoming an obsession, how can just a local girl like you, who he met at a convenience store just drive him insane in just a single meeting. ‧₊˚ He didn't know anything about you other than your name, he would always look forward for he'd bump into you again but, this time never let you go ‧₊˚ Well this time it seemed like god was on his side, and he finally found you, as much as he was happy, he was jealous at the same time with the view of you being with some other guy/girl other than him. (chill that person is not your s/o , just a friend of yours) ‧₊˚ but he was a guy who was just too spoiled from a very young age, if he wants something he gets it no matter what. and you are no exception ‧₊˚ in his opinion you were a play hard, who was trying to ignore the fact he is an international level soccer player, and that he was known worldwide, but little did he know that you didn't even know a single thing about soccer. ‧₊˚ The more he got to know you, the more he realized how naive, caring and innocent you were, there was something about you that made him fall for you harder day by day. ‧₊˚ He loved every single thing about you, that kind personality of you to help anyone in need, you were such a pure soul he thought he swore that he wouldn't let anyone ruin you, he wanted to take you somewhere no soul could even dare lay a finger at you. ‧₊˚ indeed you were too naive, to fall in love with a monster like him...

⊹. . How Would He Treat You?

‧₊˚ well in most of the animes I portrayed the characters to be extremely violent to a level that they don't have a hesitancy to do some killing for their darling, but the case here is different I believe, yes, Sae is indeed violent but not too a level of killing cause aside from you he gives very much importance to his career and he can't take any chances to commit something like this for his own reasons. ‧₊˚ Cause first, his career would get ruined alongside his reputation among the newer generation of soccer players. ‧₊˚ Second, He knows it would hurt his darling if he does something like that, and he can't afford to see you cry right? ‧₊˚ If some guy touches you, Sae is strong enough to break those hands and send that guy to the hospital without even getting reported to the police. ‧₊˚ but he hides this monstrous side of his from you, cause he is afraid you would leave him. What would he be without you? ‧₊˚ But here is the thing he is R.O.U.G.H, the guy would leave bite marks over your neck and tell you to wear somewhat revealing dresses to show the marks, as to tell the world who you belong to ‧₊˚ let's say he would spoil you rotten, I mean he is a celebrity right? imagine his annual income, it's enough for you to buy every single thing you ever wanted ‧₊˚ well he finds you too adorable that he developed a habit to squish your cheeks. (IDK I JUST TURNED RED WRITING THIS ONE.) ‧₊˚ He is not too possessive and yet too possessive, but only in the cases you being around other men other than him or else you have the freedom to enjoy anything you like. ‧₊˚ But what if, you find out about his bad side what would happen? ‧₊˚ Well, he would try convincing you he did it all to keep you happy, but you won't buy it so he would leave you alone, till you can calm down and he could sort things out with you. ‧₊˚ well longer the relationship the more he knows about you, so using that innocence of yours up to his advantage he would successfully convince you to stay with him. after all they don't call him a genius for no reason right? ‧₊˚ well he'd force but not actually force you to get a tattoo of his name(optional where) ‧₊˚ people who know you are scared of him, and they'd tell you he is scary but you still deny it. ‧₊˚ he saw himself to be a devil for a goddess like you, who brought light to his darkness. ‧₊˚ most of the guys who ever tried to make you uncomfortable or flirt with you were reportedly almost beaten to death but survived with serious permanent damages, as you could say Sae spared the for the sake of you. ‧₊˚ and yet again things go back, and he would occasionally take you with him on a vacation. ‧₊˚ well he would always book you a front row to his match so that he could watch your cute reactions to his goals, and that you would cheer him which would boost his confidence or more like ego. ‧₊˚ and even when you are too shy kissing him when he asks for it, in front of people, especially his teammates then oh dear, he would get annoyed, that he would just pull you close and start making out with you shamelessly in front of them. ‧₊˚ well humiliation like this is common in your relationship with him. ‧₊˚ Just so you know Sae Itoshi is a monster disguised as your prince charming of your dreams.

THANK YOU FOR ORDERING!

[linneastarron]

wip wednesday

you can have the introduction of a fic i've been writing. i love evil femme 4 evil femme superior yuri ship dimitrendive (lady dimitrescu x miss endive)

The night was dark, with cold wind blowing onto the walls of Castle Dimitrescu. Endive had found her way into the manor by sheer chance. She was visiting the local area with her daughter, Panini, but the house she was supposed to stay at was overrun by Lycans, leaving her and her daughter as the sole survivors due to Endive’s pure physical power. Most of the village was overrun by these Cadou-infested beasts, leaving her no choice but to search for something further out from the village. She barreled through a gate and made her way to the castle, having seen it in the general distance. So, here she was, in the lobby area of the castle, holding Panini close to her chest. “Miss Endive?” Panini asked, her lack of energy apparent in her voice. “Are we safe?” “I believe we are,” Endive simply responded. Endive, still holding the small girl, began to move through the castle. The warmth of its interior helped defrost the two from the freezing weather of the night. “Are you sure it’s okay if we barge into someone’s place like this?” Panini questioned. Endive took a look around; despite the large space inside, there didn’t seem to be a single person present. “Nonsense, Panini. If they had an issue, they should have locked the doors.” The doors were, in fact, locked, but Endive chose to omit that she had been able to break in with ease.

please sub scrib 4 more <3

[rom-e-o]

Liable To Fall - Chapter 1 (Scrooge/OC)(Post-Canon)

A nasty fall from a rickety footstool steals some of Ebenezer Scrooge's precious and recent memories. As his mortal self struggles to remember recent events, including his courtship and recent marriage, his Present conscious takes a ghostly form. With only the ghost of his former business partner privy to his misery, he is forced to watch the spectacle of his Past self attempt to readjust to his changed life.

A continuation of Begin Again.

Read on AO3

On an otherwise unsuspecting Thursday evening, the tranquility of the Scrooge manor was interrupted by a loud, bone-jostling crash. The disturbing resonance rattled the floorboards and accosted the walls, slithering through cracks and air vents with uncanny volume.

It was more than enough to startle the manor’s lady, Constance Albany DoGoode-Scrooge, out of her daydream. She’d been seated before a roaring fire in the home’s spacious second floor sitting room, reading her husband’s vintage copy of Robinson Crusoe by firelight while Prudence snored at her side.

“He told me it was for Men of desperate Fortunes on one Hand, or of aspiring, superior Fortunes on the other, who went abroad upon Adventures, to rise by Enterprize, and make themselves famous in Undertakings of a Nature out of the common Road; that these things were all either too far above me, or too far below me …” she read aloud, cheating glances at Prudence as she acted the different parts aloud. “Are you already snoozing?”

“Hmph!” the mastiff huffed, the dog's breath almost as warm as the firelight on her skin.

“Silly girl, we’ve just started!”

She rolled over and pawed at Constance's elbow, asking for pets. Uncle Harry gave the best belly rubs, but hers would have to do.

Obliging with a laugh, Constance continued to read, “… that mine was the middle State, or what might be called the upper Station of Low Life, which he had found by long Experience was the best State in the World, the most suited to human Happiness, not exposed to the Miseries and Hardships, the Labour and Sufferings of the mechanick Part of Mankind, and not embarass’d with the Pride, Luxury, Ambition and Envy of the upper Part of Mankind."

The dog’s large head had rested comfortably in the woman’s lap, her tongue occasionally lolling from between her fanged teeth to create a spot of drool on the woman’s nightgown. Even if Constance had noticed, she wouldn’t have cared.

“He told me, I might judge of the Happiness of this State, by this one thing—”

Then came the crash.

The strident sound screamed through the halls, interrupted the tranquility, and her narration. Upon hearing and feeling the reverberation of the impact in the floorboards, the woman and mastiff shared concerned looks.

“Ebenezer?” Constance called out in worry. She craned her neck in an attempt to peer past the doorway, as if her answer lay in the shadows of the dark corridors. “Is something wrong?”

No answer. “Magda? E-Errol?”

A flurry of footsteps sounded from another part of the house, but no tangible voice answered her call.

Was it possible that one of the Cratchits had stopped in for a visit? They were trusted friends and had keys to the home, but they always announced themselves, and rarely showed up past sunset. Harry and Hela were the same, and with a young daughter to take care of now, they

She was running out of people already, but the sound had to have come from somewhere. Unless … was someone else in the house? Had someone broken in?

Just as she stood to investigate, a distant yell reverberated from the house’s inner corridors.

“Constance, it’s Ebenezer!” Magda called out; her voice frayed with urgency. “H-He’s fallen in the study – come help me with him, please!”

Oh, no. No.

“Hurry!” the maid called again, more insistently this time.

Constance was up in a flash, abandoning everything in the sitting room and practically flying down the halls. In her haste she didn’t even reach for her candle, opting to leave it behind and feel her way through the familiar house. Guided only by instinct and traces of waning sunlight seeping through the cracked windows, she found her way without single delay or injury. The emerald-colored gown and golden dressing robe she wore billowed behind her as she ran through the home, skidding on the wooden floors on socked feet.

When she practically stumbled over the threshold of Ebenezer’s study, she saw her husband laying unresponsive on the floor amidst a scattering of books, with Magda gently fitting the cushion from his desk chair under his head. Cast off to the side was a toppled stepladder, one of the rungs snapped in half, laying crooked before one of the towering bookcases.

Constance was on her knees at his side immediately. She knew better than to move him too much, but it didn’t take a doctor to see that he was unconscious – but still quite pale.

Once Constance was at her side, Magda quickly deposited Ebenezer’s larger hand into hers for safekeeping. The older woman had been taken it up to check the pulse in his wrist for any beat.

“Stay with him,” the maid said, “I’ll send Errol to fetch us a doctor right away!”

Picking up her skirt and moving faster than a rabbit in a fox hunt, she was down the main stairs and through the main entryway in a heartbeat. She didn’t waste the extra second it took to latch the door behind her, opting instead to let it swing on its hinges in the twilit evening’s icy air. Prudence also sprinted in, borderline frantic at the sight of her beloved owner in distress.

As she sat beside Constance and surveyed the scene with terrified and understanding eyes, the woman held firm at her husband’s side. All her energy went into staying calm and trying to make sure she did not disturb him for fear of aggravating his condition any further.

To siphon out the manic energy building inside her with every passing second, she stroked the sides of his face lovingly, fingers shaking as if she was out in the blistering cold.

All the while, she repeated his name like a mantra.

“Ebenezer…”

Constance shook her head in denial of everything, her copper hair falling loose from its wrappings to flow around her shoulders. Powerless to do anything else, she stooped over and pressed her forehead to his, tears running in silver rivers down her freckled cheeks.

“Ebenezer.”

 “Well, this is certainly a surprise, old boy.”

Ebenezer awoke with a start, awakening to the sensation of tingling numbness throughout his entire body. It felt like needles pricking his skin all over, and ice racing through his veins like rain through London’s sprawling gutters. Regardless of this, he was able to stand, limbs somehow lead-like in clunkiness yet also light as dust clouds in weight.

One glimpse at his appendages, and they looked … wrong. They were misty and diaphanous as light, not solid as they should have been.

The rush of dizziness he felt after standing on his legs was not nearly as distressing as the sight his eyes fell upon a moment later; his own body, lying resigned on the floor with Constance cradling him, curled upon him like the mourning angels that decorated large gravestones.

Terror snapped at his heart like the jaw of a rapid animal.

“I …. I am…”

“Dead? No, you are not,” the familiar, corporeal voice said. “If you were, you wouldn’t be tethered to this mortal realm like I am. I’d say the closest comparison is that you are … lucid dreaming.”

Ebenezer veered around again, fighting another wave of dizziness, to see the source of the voice. There, before him, seated in his desk chair was his former mentor. An icy specter dressed in rags, icicles protruding from his bruised, frost-bitten skin. His slate-colored hair and mustache fluttered about weightlessly, as if he was suspended in water.

Most notably, the golden obols on his hollowed eyes sparked a shade of vibrant gold, a stark contrast to the icy hues that fully encapsulated the rest of the man’s uncannily preserved body.

“Jacob Marley…” he muttered again, shock temporarily absorbing his terror. “W-Wait. H-How is the possible? H-How are we…?”

He chanced another look down at his hands and noticed that the indentations of the walnut floor were visible through what should have been a solid layer of flesh. Barely holding back panic, he fell to his knees and scrambled to Constance’s side. He reached out to grasp her shoulders, but his hands slipped through her. Blinking, he retracted his hands from her, then more gently, teased his fingertips along her spine.

His fingers slipped right through the back of her robe. There was not a trace of the usual warmth he felt emanating from her, nor any indication that she was even there. It was as if they existed on two different planes of existence.

As if sensing the next question on his friend’s tongue, Jacob chuckled forlornly. “Relax. It’s quite normal, my boy. It took me seven years to talk to you, remember?”

“Yes, but you were dead!” he reminded him, pointing an accusing finger at the spirit. “Jacob, you … you are dead. That why you came to me that Christmas Eve night. Y-You spoke to me then.”

The ghost inclined its head. “I did, and I can see that the conversation paid quite bountiful dividends.”

His ghostly gaze flicked to the worried, copper-haired woman cradling Scrooge’s body unresponsive form. The ghost rose from the chair then, levitating mere inches off the ground as the chains and lockboxes continued to anchor him to the mortal plane and delay his ascension.

“You are a changed man,” Jacob murmured, his voice softer than Scrooge could ever remember hearing it, “I could not be prouder, nor more relieved, for you. You heeded my words …”

His gaze softened at his partner’s kind words. They breached his hardened heart “Jacob.”

“Finally!” the ghost said, throwing his hands up dramatically. “You were too bloody stubborn to listen to most of my advice in life! Now, almost a full decade after I breathed my last and had to literally haunt your dreams for attention, you finally get your act together. Bah! Well, better late than never, I suppose.”

“What?” Scrooge snapped back, close to shaking a finger in the spirit’s face. “Now, look here Jacob—”

Interrupted by the study door slamming open, Scrooge veered his head to see Magda and Errol rushing in, both flanking a physician carrying a rather large leather case.

Constance was forced to move away as the physician examined her husband, wanting the man to have all the space he needed to spread out and examine the man she loved. Unable to sit still, she stood and began to pace about the room frantically, only for Magda to catch her and pull her into a tight embrace. Scrooge’s heart shattered as he watched his wife fold immediately, wrapping the older woman in an embrace that could put the squeeze of a python to shame.

By reflex, he attempted to reach out … only for his hand to fall right through her shoulders, over her heart, and exit her lower back.

His breath began to come in quick, frantic gasps. “Y-You say I’m not deceased, but…”

“You above all others should know that I am always right, Ebenezer,” Jacob assured. “Did I not speak the truth about the Three Spirits that night?”

“Y-Yes, but—”

“Then cease your blabbering and listen. Oh, and don’t worry, you can still sit down. If you’d like.”

Ebenezer was in no mood to act playful (or cheeky, for that matter) with the ghost of his dead business partner. The occasion was strange enough in its own right without the horrible addition of watching a physician inspect his body mere feet away from him. Oh, and the horribly distressing sound of Constance crying. It was hard enough to focus without having his nerves shredded to ruins by the sound of her sobs.

Too tired and confused to argue further, he slinked over to his desk chair, where he’d been sitting just a few minutes prior when he’d decided to mount the old stepladder for a top-shelf book and sank into the seat. He felt nothing, but he was … sitting.

“Please, speak some comfort to me,” Ebenezer begged his friend. “Please.”

“This time, I can oblige you,” Jacob said, much to the other man’s palpable relief. “You are alive, but just a step beyond unconsciousness. You see, when you awaken, a part of you will not be intact.”

“A part of me?” he parroted. His hands patted at his ghostly body. “A-Am I injured?”

“Not physically. Some of your memories will be gone. Recent memories.”

The man’s stomach dropped. “H-How recent?”

“You should have a misty recollection of your entire life, even in this form, but the memories that are crystal clear to you will be the ones that that your physical brain has forgotten. Those memories are manifested by you.”

His lack of understanding must have made him look truly pitiful, because Jacob reached out to lay a long-fingered hand on his shoulder. “What is the last vivid memory you have, my boy?”

Ebenezer shut his eyes and forced himself to think back. Everything from the past month was clear. He easily recalled accompanying Bob and Ethel to Tim’s monthly physician appointment to check on the condition of his leg. Another memory from a few days ago of Prudence nearly knocking over an entire cabinet of glass collectibles in an antique store came to mind as well. Somehow, he and Constance had caught every piece before anything had smashed onto the ground, though they’d had to work themselves into quite the tangle to accomplish it.

His mind continued to drift. A few months prior, he remembered Constance and him getting married in a semi-private ceremony at his home. Every detail came to him easily, as if the whole ceremony had happened mere minutes before. He recalled the radiance of her gold-accented gown, the feeling of kissing her as he cried tears of joy, and the taste of their vanilla wedding cake somehow even sweeter when tasted off her lips. Later that night, he remembered experiencing a new, and very physical, level of joy between the sheets with her. He’d later awakened to her nude form curled beside him, her glorious smile curving against the slope of his bare chest. Maker, her smile. He could never forget it. Could he?

No.

Ebenezer’s mind raced as he retraced the steps of their relationship. He recalled dates as if they’d happened yesterday. The picnic in the countryside where he’d proposed was vivid as a painting in his mind. Her excited ‘Yes!’ rang through his mind with the musicality, and perhaps the foreboding knell, of a bell.

“Do you…remember meeting your wife at all, old boy?” he asked. “That first day, when the butcher the street over invited her out of the cold?”

“Of course, I do, I—" he snapped, before the implication hit him. “No. Oh, no. Jacob, please.”

 When Ebenezer first stirred under the physician’s careful touch, Constance snapped out of her daze almost instantly. She flew to his side again, on her knees as he slowly worked to push himself upright.

“Easy now,” the physician said, one hand flattening against the man’s back as he helped usher him upright. “Nice and slow, Mr. Scrooge.”

“Augh, my head …” he groaned, his body folding up with agonizing slowness. Once mostly upright, his head almost instantly fell into his palm, a grimace slicing his face like a wound.

“Are you dizzy?” the doctor asked in concern.

“A bit, yes,” he croaked.

“That’s normal. Just take a moment to rally yourself.”

A few tense seconds passed before he dared to lift his head again. When he gathered the willpower to do so, he blinked slowly as he eyes adjusted to the light of the room. As he registered the wreath of spectators around the room, he let out an uneasy chuckle.  “M-My, what an audience.”

Prudence padded over to her beloved papa, nosing at his arm and whimpering. The man turned to her and scratched under her jaw, making sire to pay extra attention to the spot right under her collar he knew she liked. As predicted, her tail began thumping the floor almost instantly, and with enough force to practically knock the pictures off the wall.

Constance, tearing up from relief and joy, leaned forward to embrace him. “Oh, Ebenezer! I’m so relieved you’re okay!”

The man allowed the redhead to lean into him, but visibly tensed as she wrapped her arms around him. Constance noticed this, and reeled away immediately, fearing she’d hurt him. “I-I’m sorry! That was too much, wasn’t it? Oh, I’m so sorry. I-I was just relieved to see that you woke up.”

“I-I…” Ebenezer stuttered, staring at the woman with wide eyes. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Whatever for?”

“Probably for being a bloody fool and using that old stepladder alone,” Magda chimed in, overturning her fist to gently knock on the top of his head. “You stubborn codger. I told you to toss that old thing in the trash. Would make nice kindling, too!”

While Magda laughed amicably at her jest (as did Errol, the ever-faithful husband he was), Ebenezer still stared back at Constance with troubled eyes. There was something searching in his gaze, his pupils darting from one feature of hers to another. After studying her face, he shifted his attention to her clothes, her hair … before eventually landing back on her Atlantic-colored eyes.

“Um, miss, please pardon me,” he started slowly, “Um, perhaps that fall was severe after all.”

Constance cocked her head. Miss? He hadn’t called her that in…well, since they’d first met.

The woman reached out in an attempt to comfort him, but saw him shift away. She did the same, apologizing again under her breath.

“I’m so dreadfully sorry, but … do we know each other?” Ebenezer asked, obviously realizing the question was a painful one to impose on her.

When her face faltered, collapsing from relief into shock, he added sheepishly:

“I-I don’t believe I know who you are.”

If anyone else in the chamber could hear the otherworldly wail that left Ebenezer's spirit, it did not show on their faces.

List: @quill-pen, @crimson-phantom-designs @thedivinelights

Here we go~

[endlessly-cursed]

𝗭𝗼𝘆𝗮 𝗔𝗿𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼

"𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮; 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧."

BASICS

Name: Zoya Aurore Arcano, neé Malfoy 

Birthday: 7th of June, 1218 

Zodiac sign: Gemini 

Weight: 63kg 

Height: 1.68m 

Religion: Pagan 

Eye colour: Black 

Hair colour: White 

Faceclaim: Savannah Steyn 

FAMILY 

Mother: Lorraine ‘Lori’ Malfoy, neé Yaxley 

Lori was the fifth and only child of the Malfoy family, and at age 13 she was married to Ser Leonel Malfoy. The marriage didn’t live together or consummated the marriage until she was 17 and from the marriage, Zoya was born. They had a small son, Christopher, who died young from a deformity on his back. 

Father: Ser Leonel Malfoy 

A famed and feared sailor and warrior, he married Lori Yaxley when he was 25 but didn’t consummate the marriage nor lived with her until she was 17 (by then the perfect age for girls to live with their husbands) and had a healthy girl, Zoya, and a sickly son, who sadly died at age three because of a deformity. He annointed his nephew Hal as the heir to the Malfoy dynasty after his daughter Zoya married and devoted herself to the Arcano family. 

Other relatives: Hal Aurelius Malfoy, first cousin 

A shy but dutiful and sweet man, he had been left motherless because of birth complications and had been mainly educated by Leonel, his uncle, and was very tight-knit with Zoya. When Zoya went away to live her married life, Hal was the heir of the Malfoys, and despite being homosexual, he managed to have a son with his wife, who continued the Malfoy line to this day. 

Friends: TBD 

Significant Other: Skall ‘The White Wolf’ Arcano @kathrynalicemc

Skall and Zoya met accompanying her father on crusades and both of them hit it off instantly. They married and had a daughter, Xanthe, whom they adored. 

[MORE INFO TBD] 

PERSONALITY

Overall personality: She was a woman of her time: beautiful, strategic, cunning and with many talents, such as swordsmanship, horsemanship, archery, hand-to-hand combat and had a special bond with dragons, especially after her husband encouraged her to enhance it. She’s a serious, deadly and tempestuous woman who always has her way and isn’t afraid of anything. 

Positive traits: Talented, powerful, caring and brave 

Negative traits: Cold, serious, deadly, tempestuous 

Guilty pleasure: None, she enjoys things shamefully 

HOMETOWN

Malfoy Manor (1220-1238) 

Zoya grew up in the famous manor, and although they were purebloods, her father wasn’t truly into such politics, but he did have his pride and air of superiority. She had an education contrary to many pureblood ladies and was sorted into Gryffindor. 

Skalafell (1238-Death) 

Zoya gladly adopted the newly founded wizard village as her home and convinced her husband to crown himself king, and because of her talent as a dragon rider and fighter in her own right, conquering lands and slaughtering those who would dare come in her way, she earned the title ‘The Conqueress’ as well as ‘The Unburnt’ after surviving an attack from a wild dragon and the ‘Queen of the Queens’ as well as many other titles. 

BACKSTORY 

Zoya Aurore Arcano was born of Lori Yaxley and Leonel Malfoy on the 7th of June, 1220. She grew up with everything she ever wanted within the Sacred Twenty Eight, growing to be a precocious and wild child, especially after losing her brother, becoming thus the ‘man of the house’ after her father. 

In 1238, she met Skall Arcano during one of the many crusades and the two of them hit it off instantly and later married and had a daughter, Xanthe, whom both of them adored. 

MISC

Zoya gave her daughter a similar education, as well as the royal education given to a future warrior princess. They established the unwritten tradition of the husbands taking the woman’s name to carry onto the Arcano name

She’s a no-bullshit woman, but when alone with her loved ones, she has a wicked wit and a good sense of humour 

Before Skall, they considered marrying her to Hal, but she then escaped her mother’s machinations and joined her father in a fateful crusade to Denmark 

She and Skall loved dragons and everything fire related, as well as the colour red, making their personal shields both matching red 

They also trained together and she was always there during battle, even heavily pregnant, rallying troops and comanding them 

Her personal dragon, Vehemoth, was a Mediterranean Smooth Scale, a gift from Skall himself after their wedding 

She also stole two other dragon eggs from a French nobleman and slaughtered him and his allies alongside Vehemoth and adopted them as her own dragons for Skall and her future child, both being a Chinese Fireball for Skall, Romanian Longhorn for herself as her second dragon, named Vahnya and the Hungarian Horntail for her daughter Xanthe. 

[infintasmal]

Shinobu & Inosuke - control vs. chaos

One of the things I find really interesting about Shinobu and Inosuke's relationship is how starkly different they are. Emotionally, they exist on separate ends of the spectrum and I think that's part of why they work so well together and perhaps why Shinobu takes such a diligent caretaker role for Inosuke. Something something, opposites attract and fill the gaps in each other but in a familial way.

Shinobu is someone who is rigidly controlled in her emotional displays. When she was younger, she was known for being brash, stubborn, a rather rude, with no social grace. She loudly complained about Kanao being 'useless' despite knowing why she acts the way she does. I imagine her as the type of teen to pick fights over any perceived slight and Kanae would often have to drag her back to apologize.

But after Kanae's death, the manor was left without a mistress and the girls residing there had no one else to turn to. Shinobu knows more than anyone how important her sister's role was, both as a caretaker and a slayer. And Shinobu couldn't meet those expectations.

So in order to fill the space Kanae left behind, Shinobu forced herself into that mold. She took on all aspects of Kanae's personality in a sort of masked parody of what she imagined Kanae to be in the eyes of those around her. She even goes as far as to wear Kanae's haori, less of a memento and more of a costume. She always smiles, speaks softly, appears gentle and disciplined. She still has a temper, but it's always disguised as a gentle scolding. Even when fighting the Spider Sister, she's chipper and jovial, her sweet tone contrasting with the brutal tortures she describes to the demon. And no one asked her to take on this role, to change herself from the inside out. What started off as a coping mechanism became a complete disassociation from her own identity. Kanae is the one who should have lived, Kanae would be strong enough to take care of the manor, Kanae could fight Muzan. And since Kanae isn't here, Shinobu will act the part as best she can.

All of this than contrasts with Inosuke. Inosuke is unapologetically and authentically himself. A wild boy raised in the mountains away from human society, who acts on instinct and rarely thinks about the consequences. Fighting demons is fun, a way to showcase his skills and prove his superiority. He trusts his intuition to carry him through and if he should fail, he'll simply get up and try again. Inosuke doesn't lie and hide out of some moral obligations, it just never crosses his mind. He's loud, determined, and strong. He has natural physical talent, sharp instincts, and trained himself to use a sword. And he's proud of it. He is everything Shinobu is not, everything she wishes she could be.

There have been so many nights where Shinobu longs to just stand outside and scream at the sky, to be angry and wounded without shame. She never got the chance to mourn Kanae or even her parents, there was work to be done. She hates the demons, hates her weak body, hates the cruelty of the world. And yet she has to pretend to be loving and kind, a sympathetic ear. Even Giyuu gets to act on his insecurities as a Hashira, running and hiding when it comes to the training camps and yet even he surpasses her as a slayer because he can decapitate a demon.

And so when it comes to Shinobu and Inosuke's relationship, the two learn what they lack from each other. Inosuke learns to be clever, that strength doesn't have to be loud and obvious. Shinobu is someone that in any other situation he would probably look down upon for being weak. But she saves him from the Spider demons, perhaps his first humiliating defeat. And she's able to heal him after, care for his injuries in a way no one ever has. She commands respect in her house because she's smart and focused, not because she's the biggest predator in the forest. She displays to him a different kind of strength, a sense of control. And from the girl who lost her family, he learns what it's like to be a part of one.

And Shinobu finds that despite the trouble he causes, she likes being around Inosuke. There's no trickery or manipulation to him, when he says she's cool, it's with such authentic admiration that she believes it, especially from someone who is physically gifted. She loves Kanao, but she understands that her praise can sometimes come from a sense of dependency, that Kanao is still struggling to identify Shinobu as Sister and not Master. And Kanao is her student only because Kanae died. And praise from others often feels like a slight or backhanded in a way, 'you're a good fighter even though you're so weak'. (she imagines this, she knows) With Inosuke, Shinobu doesn't feel as much stress to perform, it wouldn't make a difference with him anyway. She ends up being patient with him because it genuinely benefits him, not because she feels obligated to pretend. Inosuke talks about the future, about after he defeats all the demons, he'll show Shinobu all the bugs that live on his home mountain. And even though Shinobu knows that won't happen, that she plans to die for her cause, it brings her peace to imagine.

Maybe it's just because Shinobu gets along better with animals than people, but for all the stress he causes, Shinobu feels that Inosuke might be someone she doesn't have to act in front of. He never met Kanae anyway and doesn't understand social roles so he doesn't know what role Shinobu is struggling to fill. To him, her mask isn't an act but a method of survival. Just as an insect might camouflage themselves to trick a predator. And even that is something he finds cool. And in the end, when she will undoubtedly be gone, she hopes Inosuke will continue to visit the Manor and bring some life to it. She grateful to be someone he trusts and hopes he won't be too angry when he learns the truth of her plans.

[rantsintechnicolor]

the haunted mummy of perdeaux manor, episode 8

She took a few deep breaths to steady herself and tamp down the light panic in her chest. She recognized the feeling. It was something like the delicious thrill she had felt with Eva. Yet it confused and frightened her. Had she really just felt something similar with George? And in feeling it, did she betray Eva? But hadn’t Eva abandoned her? No. She didn’t know. And no. George had just been kind to her after her brother had been a monster toward her. 

She took another deep breath and shivered. It brought her eyes back into focus. She caught sight of George assisting the porter. She shivered again and walked out of the trees into the drive in time to see him disappearing into the front door on the other side of a crate. On the steps of the house above the bustle, she saw her father controlling the chaos by directing men with crates. She heard him say, “... storage… gallery …the labyrinth…” and thought perhaps a new statue would soon be installed on the last empty plinth. She slowed her walk when she saw her brother next to him, looking after George, his expression miffed, as though jealous of the attention George gave to the porter instead of himself. The man standing next to him she didn’t recognize. 

Her father turned to give her brother some direction and John disappeared into the house. She picked up her pace and approached her father. He opened his arms and embraced her.

“Ah, Rebecca. Dearest daughter! It does me good to see your face!” He kissed her head, genuinely pleased to see her. John had learned his superiority from their father, but hadn’t found much use for kindness or loving his family as his father did. “Oh, you are damp and chilled. I shall quickly introduce my friend and then you must go inside and be warm by a fire.” His new acquaintance bore a resemblance to George though the features on his face were sharper and more creased. He was still handsome though his curls were graying and his eyes were dark.

“Allow me to present Lord Albert Mayweather, classics and history professor at Oxford. We met on the journey and I am learning so much. Lord Albert, this is my eldest and very accomplished daughter Rebecca, who is also very hungry for knowledge. Pray do not indulge her curiosity too much. I shall blame you if she runs away to college.” He guffawed heartily at his joke. He didn’t mean it in a cruel way, but it stung Rebecca who dropped her eyes briefly and curtsied. She did want to go to college and her father’s comment reminded her of when John told her nastily that girls don’t go to college. It broke her heart and made her unhappy to be a woman.

Lord Albert touched his hat and bowed, his smile wide and his eyes gleaming. “Miss Perdeaux, I am happy to answer any questions you might have. It would be my pleasure, I assure you.” She liked his manner and sensed his genuine generosity of spirit, similar to the one she was starting to trust in George.

“Thank you, sir. That is very kind of you. Now if you will excuse me, I shall do as my father bade.” 

She entered the front hall and untied her bonnet, and a footman stepped forward to take it from her. The gallery to the left and right of the foyer had become crowded with crates and porters speaking in hushed voices. The family portraits appeared to look down on them, supervising or perhaps eager to see what was secreted inside. George and John were chatting at the other end of the hall. She quickly made for the stairs, hoping John wouldn’t see her, but he called her back. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t hear him and it would be rude to ignore him. She took a deep breath, knowing what must be coming. She was ready for him this time.

“My poor sister, looking like a dirty, drowned rat,” he said as she approached him and George. The ringlets around her temples, as was the fashion, had been pulled limp by the damp weather. The hem of her dress did have spatters of mud. George clasped his hands behind his back to keep them still and searched the ceiling for the strength to be polite to his host. She glowered back at John but said nothing. “What do you think, George?” 

George tried very hard to look bored. John looked back and forth between them. 

“Well, you two are very dull. You don’t like my joke?” 

“I don’t agree and it’s hardly funny,” George replied. Their eyes met as she studied the annoyance on his face. His face softened, as if apologizing for not being able to do more. She let herself stare for half a second. He’s just being kind. Isn’t he?

John guffawed loudly. “I know it isn’t to you, but I do so enjoy your discomfort.”

“What can I do for you, brother?” Her tone was clipped and edged in irritation.

“Oh nothing. You have served your purpose as my amusement. You may go.” Rebecca turned on her heel and hurried away before he could think of a reason to call her back. “George, shall we go see my rooms,” she heard him say. 

“Actually, I’d like to see my room. I find I’m rather tired after my walk.”

Rebecca knew John would offer his rooms again for George’s rest, but the footman offered to show the way before John could shape the words.

[splinteredhq]

**CHARACTER NAME:** Andromeda Tonks - Andy/Dromeda

**CHARACTER FACECLAIM:** margaret qually or  Danny Devito im not picky

**CHARACTER AGE/DOB:** October 5, 1994; 29

**CHARACTER PRONOUNS/GENDER IDENTITY/SEXUALITY ETC:** She/Her/Hers;  

**OC OR CANON:** Canon 

**CHARACTER PROFESSION IF RELEVANT:** Portrait Painter/Freelance Charm Worker

**SCHOOL ATTENDED & HOUSE IF RELEVANT:** Hogwarts/Slytherins

**ALIGNMENT (the order/death eaters/etc) + GENERAL OPINIONS ON THE WAR/THEIR SIDE:** The ORder of the Phoenix, but more as a non-field member since they do have Dora/a whole ass child to be looking out for. She occasionally assists Ted in his potion making or helps with some charmed objects. 

Voldy bad and the Black’s (minus Sirius Black III) are dead to her.

**CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY:**

very brief mentions of child abuse

The Noble House of Black sucks ass.

So, Andromeda is the middle sibling who never quite drank the Pureblood Kool-aid from the beginning. Sure, when she was younger (see around 6-9 age range wise), she had the sense of superiority, and even the pride from being a part of such a noble house. Hell, even the mudblood word left her mouth once or twice… It’s funny how one single moment can change everything.

It was an asinine pureblood party. One where she would much rather be hiding in her room, feigning a stomach ache and where the house elves had spent nearly an hour taming her curtly brown hair and begging her to put on pinchy shoes her mother wanted to wear. She was _10_, one year before she got her Hogwarts Letter, and she wanted something that wasn’t disgustingly fancy to eat. 

She slid away from her parents and her sisters, planning to sneak down the kitchens of the manor to see if they had any sweets, when she heard a ruckus. This wasn’t the Black manor, so she knew it wasn’t polite to eavesdrop, but the sound of a slap that got her attention.

The nice thing about being a little girl is it’s easy to slip by and see things you’re  not supposed to. The oldest, and only, Selwyn son - Lysander -  was with his father, the kid holding his cheek. He wasn’t really a kid, just turned 20, and was supposed to “have a rotten head on his shoulders”, according to her mother. He had slipped Andromeda and Narcissa a couple of chocolate frogs a few years back, so Andromeda didn’t really understand what that meant They’re arguing, speaking low and quiet, and Andromeda didn’t understand everything, but Lysander pretty firmly said that he didn’t give a flying fuck if his teacher was a muggleborn alchemist  - among other insults relating to Mr. Selwyn’s considerably large mustache and forehead - and that the entire pureblood line were going to die out because of inbreeding and misplaced, prideful intolerance. 

The fight got worse, and when the wands were drawn, Andromeda accidentally on purpose pushed over a pile of dishes. They stared at her. She stared at them. And then she ran away.

When Andromeda asked her mother about it the next day, what Lysander meant, she had slapped herself, and sent up to her room without supper. It didn’t change everything for her, but as the year went on, and Lysander was supposedly disowned for being a blood traitor, something never really sat right with her.

And then she started Hogwarts, was sorted into slytherin, and everything her parents told her was a _lie_. Imagine her surprise when Muggleborns were actually able to do magic - some of them, including a certain Edward Tonks, were even better than her in subjects like herbology and potions. 

Andromeda wished she could be like the true middle sibling, where everyone just ignored her… But the truth was she had to work twice as hard to meet her parents expectations. With grades and everything else… It was almost suffocating.Too many classes, too many people, too much _everything_ - and a lot of the other slytherin’s ran around the joint acting like they had time to be cruel when half the other muggleborns could run magic circles around them - literally. It was exhausting.

And then _Ted_. She hated him at first, but she hated the way her so-called friends acted towards him even more. More than once, she cut them off with sharp jabs, never quite… _defending_ Ted directly, at least not at first, but forcing them all to start focusing back on their school work. 

Hate quickly turned into tolerance, especially as they had a lot of classes together - ones she had to study very hard to be actually good at. And then he just had to go and punch her sister’s boyfriend in the face -- rightfully so, honestly, Andromeda had been considering punching Lucius Malfoy in the face for even looking at her the wrong way, but Ted didn’t understand what kind of retaliation that sort of thing would cause. What was the point in having moral if you were just going to be miserable later?

She was across the charms classroom when he was jinxed, so she couldn’t say for sure it was Lucius Malfoy, but she made an educated guess. She waited for the dust to settle, before she stole poison oak from Slughorn’s stores (a potion ingredient he had imported from America) and rubbed it all over Malfoy’s bed sheets, clothes, and shoes.

The secret relationship her and Ted started was a bad idea. Her family would blast her right off the family tree and probably do worse to Ted and his parents - so Andromeda knew she should stop it before it got too deep, before she fell too hard… But it was impossible. They were impossible, and she did it anyway.

Andromeda’s tensions with her family grew, not because of that, but because of grades. Mind you, Andromeda’s grades weren’t even that bad. Nothing below an Acceptable, and her Owl’s had all been O’s and E’s, but it didn’t help that Andromeda’s attitude with her parents had grown disrespectful - which they wrongly attributed to teen angst and rebellion. They also didn’t appreciate how much time she spent drawing and painting, and practically refused to let her partake in any of it when she was at home -- she soon learned to stash her art supplies in the castle, to keep it safe. 

She graduated Hogwarts, and had a big decision to make. They planned a life together, something that felt like it was a fairytale - something that could never actually come to pass. How could it? With how the world was … and then, one Hogsmeade trip towards the end of the year, she walked past a shop: Pendragon Jewellers. She stopped, looking in the window at the displays -- Lysander Pendragon was a name she recognized from the King Arthur legends, the same ones her mother bitched about bastardizing Merlin. But he was supposed to be one of the greatest up and coming alchemists there were, and his shop, while newly open, had already made a supposed fortune. 

But the man behind the counter was unmistakably Lysander Selwyn, looking far older than he should have been for 28, with a scar on the left side of his face, cutting through his eyebrow and down the side of his cheek. They made eye contact briefly, his eyes glossing over her without real recognition, and she realized that maybe being disowned wasn’t the worst thing in the world. 

She told Narcissa first. That did not go well. 

Immediately after, she sent the letter. It was a long letter, sent on thick, expensive stationary with expensive ink. Andromeda Black disavowed the Black Family: her parents, and her sisters, saying she would no longer stand with a family that represented hatred and unearned pride. She did not mention Ted, because she did want to protect him for a time. 

Andromeda started her new life -- except it wasn’t really all that new, was it? She was still Andromeda Black… but now she was _disowned and disgraced_ Andromeda Black, the girlfriend of Ted Tonks, Muggleborn. She started her life as a painter, apprenticed under a nice half-blood who was impressed by her O in NEWT level Charms. She went on to do university part time to obtain a  higher education degree in charms/enchantments to become a magical portrait painter - which she does professionally for hire, as well as work on charms/enchantments on a freelance level.

Oh I guess i should mention the elephant in the room aka the baby

That happened when she was 19 and it was a wHOOPS. As you can imagine, Andromeda FREAKED OUT, but it ended up okay. She’s still anxious raising a daughter, especially in the war effort

Ted and Andromeda rarely fight over anything other than the cleanliness of the house and perhaps a few tense conversations over Andromeda being worried sick about the War, but things are GOOD. 

Andromeda didn’t get married to Ted until Nymphadora was about 4 years old. They only did it so Andromeda could get rid of the Black family name completely and because it was easier for when Dora started primary school.

Dora was a flower girl at the wedding it was adorable.

Sometimes, Andy assists Ted with his potion making - but only as an assistant/bitch (affectionate) who gathers and cuts the up the ingredients, rather than someone who brews. 

Considering making charmed weapons to use in battle in the war, but is unsure how to test something like that without killing someone and with a child in the house. Can and will develop this later.

[kryptonianheroao3]

Assassins Creed AU where Wednesday is a newly initiated Assassin, daughter of Master Assassins Morticia and Gomez Addams, and Enid Sinclair is the youngest child of the wealthy Templar Sinclair family during the American Revolution.

The American Brotherhood choose to act against the Sinclairs as they begin to amass power in the newly forming American government so they go to Assassinate the Sinclairs in their manor and Wednesday is one of the Assassins chosen for the mission.

They’re swiftly going through the manor, killing any Sinclairs and security they find. Morticia and Gomez are personally dealing with the heads of the Sinclair family when Wednesday comes across a terrified Enid holding a clearly too heavy mace in her bedroom, having heard everything that’s happened.

Wednesday knows she must kill Enid, it’s her orders, but she finds herself hesitating. Enid is clearly the same age as her and she looks terrified and untrained, unlike her siblings that have been executed in their sleep. When Enid asks if her parents are dead, Wednesday tells her ‘they will be shortly’ and is surprised to see that Enid doesn’t react to the news. She just drops the mace and tells Wednesday to do what she must.

So Wednesday does. She takes Enid away from the manor and to a nearby Brotherhood safe house. She tells her superiors that the girl is dead and she disposed of the body. She regularly checks in on the girl and teaches her to fight the way of the Creed.

She finds herself falling for the daughter of the family she helped kill, and Enid finds herself falling for the daughter of the two Assassins that murdered her parents.

And a few years later, if Morticia and Gomez know that Wednesday’s new recruit is the youngest of the Sinclair family, they don’t say anything.

[missetbilu]

NOT A PRINCESS*

PART 1 | PART 2

fred weasley x fem!reader, smut

draco and his family invite you to come to the quidditch world cup. being best friends with malfoy for a long time, traveling with them was pretty normal to you. however, you realise this one trip might be a little more eventful than usual when a certain ginger crosses your way.

requested by @diorrfairy | link to the ask

warnings: a little bit of naughty daydreaming if you flinch

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WORK!

You watched as the chofer set the last bag on the trunk. Proudly standing on the front steps of the Malfoy Manor, you indulged with the pride that came from your last victory. Convincing your parents to let you come with Draco and his family to the Quidditch World Cup seemed to be a challenge at first, but mentioning you would be staying in the minister’s box by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge if they were to allow to go, certainly made their opinions shift.

The friendship you had with Draco extended to your very first days at Hogwarts. Being a Slytherin, as the rest of your family, it didn’t take long for you two to become acquaintances. That was to you no surprise, members of wealthy pureblood families tend to be drawn to each other, even from a young age. What you did not expect was to actually grow fond of the boy. The bond you had with Draco was stronger than with most of your relatives and the same could be said for him. To others you were a typical privileged girl, just another pureblood with a superiority complex; but he knew the real you.

“Are you gonna get in the car or not?” Draco asked, rolling his window down.

“Sure am, dummy.” You closed the door behind you and took off your jacket, getting more comfortable for the ride. “It’s not like we’re leaving before your parents get here,”

“My dad you mean.”

“Is Narcisa not coming?” He shook his head and looked away, trying to fake indifference. You decided to talk about something else to get him to cheer up. “Excited to see Krum?”

“No, why would I?”

“I don’t know, he’s famous.”

“So what?”

“There’s something else…”

“What exactly? He’s a great player, but again, so what?”

“Nope, not that.” He was already half chuckling at your expression.

“What then?”

“He’s pretty fit, ay?” You two laugh together, but soon Lucius pops up by the door and you go quiet as he gets in the car, leaving the house behind.

Soon you can see the broad field full of tents from up in the air. The car is lowered in an area much less packed and with far better accommodations. Getting out into the warm afternoon you follow the Malfoys into the cabin.

“I want the room with the best bathroom!” You scream at Draco after getting a good look at the spacious living room.

“No! The bigger one is mine!”

“All of the rooms have en suite bathrooms, we’re not animals.” Lucius says with a huff, but the pair of you don’t listen as you are running down the hallway in search for the best room, even though they are in fact all the same, except maybe for the master.

“Got it!” You throw yourself at the neatly made bed.

“It’s my family’s cabin, I get to choose!” Draco does the same and you two bounce into the floor.

“Ow, shit.” You say in between laughs.

“Okay, I guess the bed doesn’t want any of us.”

“If you two are done with making a mess,” Lucius opens the door with his cane to look down at you, “you can help yourself with some food in the kitchen. I’ll go meet the minister for a chat before the game.” And he left, not waiting for an answer.

“Hungry?”

After eating lunch there wasn’t much to do. The event you were all there for would only begin at night, so that left you with plenty of time to be bored.

“You know what?”

“No, you’re gonna suggest something stupid.” Draco cut you off.

“Not stupid. It’s a great idea actually. We should go to that part of the field with the tents and stuff. I bet there’s gonna be a place where we can buy some firewhiskey.”

“I’m not going there.” He shot you with a disgusted expression. “There must be some old bottle at the bar.”

“Already checked.”

“Nothing?”

“Not a single drop, mate.” You stared at each other for a few seconds, having a whole conversation with your eyes. Or rather a discussion, until Draco gave in.

“Fine, let’s get some.. what’s that muggle word?”

“Booze?” You chuckle at his question.

“Urg, forget it, not saying that.”

“Come on, blondie.” You put your arm around his shoulders and walk to the door. “Let’s get wasted.”

—

“Okay this is enough for me.” Draco said after a second sip at his mini bottle you got from a hawker.

“Really?”

“I don’t wanna make a fool of myself in front of the minister.” You took one last sip and shoved yours in your pocket.

“You’re right.”

“Should we go back?” He seemed uncomfortable, didn’t even dare to look around.

“Oh shit.” You chuckled seeing some known faces not far from where you two stood. “You have no idea who I just saw.”

“Who?”

“Guess.” You squinted your eyes at Draco and he scoffed.

“Potter?”

“And the rest of his little fellowship.”

“Let’s go say hi, shall we?” He turned on his heels, not wanting to pass on the opportunity to bother the Gryffindor boy.

“Sure thing,”

“Look at what we’ve got here.” He called out, making the group stop their way into the tent and turn to them.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” Harry stepped closer.

“Just came to see the living conditions you lot have for yourselves.” He looked past the boy, as if analyzing the tent. “Shabby, I would say.”

“Shut up, Malfoy.” Ginny said, standing behind Harry.

“Not very ladylike of you to say that, Weasley. Wouldn’t you agree, Y/N?”

“Definitely not a polite response.” You added, with a cynical expression on your features.

“Listen, why don’t you and your dragon go back to the castle’s tower, princess?“ George clapped back, speaking to Draco. You were about to answer the insult when Fred talked to his twin.

“Oi, she’s a bit too pretty for a dragon, maybe the evil queen is a more fitting character for their little fairy tale.” The two laughed and Fred shot you an intense look. You didn’t know if it was out of embarrassment from their mocking, but you had to look away to stop yourself from blushing.

“Off you go then, back to the dungeon.” George said.

“We might as well, even our basement is far superior than this rotten shack. Let’s go, Y/N.”

It took all of you not to look back. You stared at Draco ahead of you, trying so hard not to check on the sensation you had that he was watching you. You had to know. So you turned your head, didn’t even stop walking, just enough to catch a glance. Fred was staring right back at you.

Once back at the cabin you two headed to your rooms. You thought about taking a nice relaxing bath, but you were suddenly afraid you might not have time to get ready if you did so. Why you cared so much was a question you decided to avoid at the moment. Usually you were pretty much invisible to all those important men that surrounded you in endless events, so as long as you had a fancy outfit on, your overall looks didn’t really matter. And yet you wanted to look your best tonight.

The warm water of the shower hit your skin so smoothly, you couldn’t help but wonder if they had a nice shower over at the Weasley’s tent. Probably not like this one that’s for sure. You thought about having to wait for all those people to be finished before you could have the bathroom to yourself. Their family is quite big as it is, adding the guests, you bet it’s pure chaos. One thought leads to another and you catch yourself imagining whether Fred was also showering right now. The water pressure is most definitely not as strong as in the cabin, falling gently onto the boy’s muscles, relaxing them a bit, getting him ready for the several flights of stairs that awaits the group in the stadium. Your hands fall down to your thighs, massaging them soothingly in such a tender motion that you shiver from it. You barely feel your finger inching towards where you want it most, when you hear Draco’s voice outside of your room, asking you to hurry. The gasp that leaves your mouth is so loud you’re afraid he might have heard you even with the sound of the shower.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” You shout back.

“Fine, just don’t be long, I don’t want my father complaining and he’s probably coming back from the minister’s cabin already.”

You get out of the shower, as quickly as possible put on a beautiful dress that hugs your figure tightly and some heels that make you feel like a maneater. Sitting by the desk in the corner of the room with your makeup bag in hands, you curse at yourself for taking too long earlier. It was supposed to be just a fast shower, but I had to go and think about… You don’t allow yourself to finish that thought.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Draco scares you as he walks into your room unnoticed and comments on your outfit.

“Shit, Draco, knock next time, your hand won’t fall off, you know?”

“Really? Wouldn’t wanna risk it.”

“Yes, this is what I’m wearing.” You answer his question, ignoring the mocking. “Why? Not fancy enough for you, ferret boy?” You ask, putting on some lipstick.

“Maybe a little too fancy for your boyfriend.” He teases you and steps out of the room before the pillow you threw could hit him. “What? Fred thinks you’re ‘too pretty to be a dragon’.” He said, making air quotes.

“Do I seem to care about what he thinks?”

“Well, you always end up discussing just between you two, even in situations like this, when I’m clearly the one who started it.”

“Malfoy.” You speak incesively, as a warning.

“Just saying, he seems like the kind of guy who would want you to look a bit more like, you know, a pauper.” He leaves and closes the door as you throw another pillow, his laughter still audible from the other side.

You end up changing.

—

Walking another set of stairs, you feel your stomach twist with the excitement of the game you’re about to watch. Even though attending all sorts of events was a normal thing for you, some of them still filled you with joy.

“Wait, my father stopped to talk to some random old man. Again.” Draco complained.

“Dude, I’m losing my rhythm here.” You whined. “Do you mind if I keep going and you catch up to me later?”

“No, you can go. I’ll stick around him, I guess.”

“Okay, later then.”

You kept making your way up. You tried to hide the smile that was brought to you by seeing all those people coming together to watch an amazing quidditch game. The energy was so mesmerizing that you only noticed how close you were to the person in front of you when you bumped into them.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry.”

“So you do have manners when you want to.” Merlin, please not him. “What? Cat got your tongue, princess?” Fred inquired. You finally looked up and huffed at him.

“Shut the fuck up, Weasley.”

“Oh right, you’re the evil queen, Malfoy is the princess. My bad.”

“Why don’t you go piss off one of your 50 siblings?”

“Even if I had that many to piss off, still would rather irritate you.”

“Because you’re a sick fuck or because you’re just an obsessed little boy?”

“Don’t know about obsessed, but I’m definitely not little.” There it is again, the blushing; you thank heavens that it’s dark and he might not notice it.

“I have more to do than stand here talking to you.”

“What? Need to go running back to your boyfriend.”

“Who, Draco? Please, Weasley, we’re practically brother and sister.”

“You are?” He tried to sound like he was still teasing you, but there seemed to be more to his tone.

“Yeah..” You answered, a bit less confidently.

“Thank Merlin you’re not actual siblings. Poor of your mother, dealing with such an annoying pair.”

“You have some nerve saying that.” You rolled your eyes. “As if George and yourself aren’t a bloody threat to humankind as a whole.”

“Threat, uh?”

“Yeah.” You attempted to stand tall, even with Fred’s figure towering over you.

“And you sure love to try your luck around this threat, don’t you, Y/L/N?”

He quickly ran up the stairs. He didn’t wait for you to answer. Thankfully. It’s not like you would have known what to say with the warmth of your cheeks and the feelings his words sent straight to your core.

“What are you smiling at, weirdo?” Draco finally reached you and took no time to tease his friend, chuckling at your expression.

“At the idea of throwing all the way down there.” You motioned to the pitch and he flinched at the perspective.

“Shut up and keep walking.” He said. You sniggered and followed Draco, who was already talking about something else. Damn we really are like siblings. That wasn’t the only thing from that conversation that kept repeating in your mind.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

'twas a lark (or a nightingale?) - Chapter 1

So, here goes...

@mismaeve @self-conscious-author, here comes the Modern!AU Lindir fic featuring all the favourite idiots of the bunch LOL

Words: 1,6 k

Characters: Lindir, OC, Thranduil, Legolas, Elrond

Warnings: strong language at times

“Lúthadis,” Thranduil sighed, “that girl would be better in a tavern.”

He liked his son’s best friend, he truly did; she was the kindest soul one could imagine, but that very sunny nature was what made her – in his opinion – so entirely unsuited for the establishment he was running.

“Are you saying that Elrond deserves something good you’re not able to cope with?”

Legolas was leaning against the doorframe, his fluid, elegant limbs draped carelessly against the polished wood.

The idea took hold in his father’s mind, thriving and unfolding at the speed of light; Legolas was not wrong, he could kill two birds with one stone.

“Lú,” he called, “come over here, please!”

She was an amazing waitress – punctual, diligent, and charming – but her ebullient nature made her stick out like a sore thumb in the high-end, hushed, gold-and-velvet spa-hotel Thranduil was running; discretion was key and Lúthadis was anything but subtle.

Even as she made her way over, her dark auburn hair – curly and wild unlike anybody else’s – bobbed like a fire over her pale face with those startingly green eyes that ever sparkled with mischief.

“Yes, boss?” she chirped cheerfully, the dimples in her cheeks deepening as she gave the old stick-in-the-mud a fond smile.

“How would you like working for Elrond for a bit? I need to know what makes him so damn successful when he’s running basically a tavern with rooms upstairs…”

“Corporate espionage,” Lúthadis grinned, “that sounds like fun.”

“Well no,” Thranduil huffed, “maybe a little. Just look around some and ask some questions.”

The truth was that he was bored out of his mind, and he hoped that his – hitherto benign – rivalry with the cute little inn down in the valley would spice things up during the lull of the season; it might – incidentally – also do the girl some good to see a different kind of establishment where she might fit in more easily.

“Alright,” pleasant as ever, Lú agreed easily to her boss’s proposition; on her way up from the village, she had – herself – noticed the beautifully drawn sign in the front window that advertised a vacancy amongst their staff, and she was more than eager to find out what kind of house Elrond ran.

“Who is she?” Lindir looked at the door of his superior’s office nervously as if the new recruit would come bursting through it at any moment, armed to her teeth.

“I’m sure Thranduil sends her,” Elrond smiled, knowing his apparent rival better than the man himself suspected, “she’s one of the kids having grown up in the treehouse.”

What the people around here called affectionately ‘the treehouse’ was a stately, beautiful manor house that Thranduil had transformed into a refuge and oasis within a dense forest of dark trees; known to be contrary and haughty, that very same man had a legendary soft spot for animals, plants, and a random gaggle of kids that could demand anything of him.

“She’s one of his?” Lindir asked breathlessly; he was much less inclined to extend good faith to that colourless, arrogant creature that was Thranduil de facto.

“She has excellent references,” Elrond declared in a decisive tone, “and you’ll show her around.” The fact that the astonishingly small and curvy young maiden was every bit as surprisingly and uncharacteristically beautiful as people said was only an added bonus for the older man; he liked Lindir and he was convinced that it would do him some good to interact with a woman who did not yet know how utterly sweet but helpless he was.

“What’s her name?” Lindir asked, turning around at the door, already sweating as he thought of the stranger about to barge into his peaceful life.

“Lúthadis,” Elrond informed him, “and she truly is enchanting; you’ll see.”

That, Lindir thought, was exactly what he was dreading.

Lúthadis liked men; she liked flirting with them, from time to time, she even liked going out with one and letting him seduce her, so, she was used to them and by no means fearful or insecure around them.

The stern look her new supervisor gave her though sent shivers down her spine that were not entirely nervous in nature; he was beautiful in an ethereal, unreal way.

“Boy oh boy,” she sighed, “can I make you a coffee or something? You look a bit pale.”

“I always look like that,” Lindir replied coolly; he was dumbstruck by the vibrant energy emanating from that tiny woman in front of him. She was unlike anything he would have imagined when thinking of a ward of Thranduil’s.

Where that man was notoriously colourless – all silver and gold – Lúthadis was like an explosion of shades; her hair made him think of the dark, burnished copper of the old tanks in the cellar and her eyes seemed tiny, sparkling windows into the lush forest surrounding her home.

“Hmmm,” she hummed and cocked her head expectantly, “what can I do then? Tell me how to make myself useful.” While she spoke, she was already tidying up the menus strewn across the counter of the restaurant area and absent-mindedly dancing around the staff laying the tables for the evening service.

“I’ll show you around,” Lindir replied formally, losing himself in the meticulous explanations of the different areas and tasks; Lú listened to him go on and on with a faint smile, she had grown up in a hotel and was intimately familiar with all the small details that kept such an enterprise running.

“And here’s my office,” he finished, pointing at a narrow wooden door at the righthand side of an equally as narrow corridor, “Elrond’s is just at the end there.”

“You call him by his first name?” she asked; she had been worried about that as she had accepted Thranduil as a father of sorts and had never used his formal title in her life.

“Everyone does,” Lindir smiled; it was the first genuine smile he had displayed, and Lú couldn’t deny that it felt like witnessing the blooming of a delicate flower under the full moon, “we are not very formal here. That might be a change of pace.”

“Not really,” she replied casually, grinning to herself as she remembered all the shenanigans she had gotten into with Legolas when they had been younger; people were wrong about Thranduil – and God knew that he wanted it that way and encouraged all the absurd gossip about his famed cold-heartedness – for he was, in truth, a very kind person who was prone to worrying too much and – as a consequence – forgetting how to express his overfull heart without sounding too intense.

She loved Thranduil with the same indulgent affection many a daughter held for her ageing father; since her earliest childhood, neither he nor Legolas had made the slightest difference between any of them even though they were the owners of a high-end hotel and she was but a wretch literally left on their doorstep.

“Lindir,” a young woman with long hair the colour of wet sand came strolling down the corridor, “is that the new girl? Why are you hogging her?”

“I am not,” he expostulated vehemently as if she had accused him of some terrible crime.

“I’ll show her around the dining room,” she grinned, “you go and set up the roster.”

“Hi, my name is Ann’ – Anneth really – and Lindir is as reliable as a clock; no doubt, he was already sweating because of his precious timetable being upset,” she then introduced herself.

Lú returned the polite favour and followed the other woman into the dining room where a few members of staff were still laying tables and preparing.

“Your boss, he’s well fit,” Lú sighed before she could suppress the thought from slipping out.

“Which one, dear?” Ann’ laughed, “Doesn’t matter; they’re both single. Come to think of it, Lindir will die single if he doesn’t stop being such a damn stickler for propriety.”

She winked at Lú and was about to hand her a stack of plates to set out when a loud crash was heard, followed by a sharp cry of pain.

One of the girls had dropped something and cut open her whole hand; as she was standing in the middle of the dining room, Lú ripped off her sweatshirt and wrapped it around the injured hand before the blood could undo all her colleagues’ hard work while another girl dashed to call an ambulance and get Lindir.

“It will be okay,” Lú soothed her, listening intently for the siren of the ambulance, and hearing a sharp gasp instead.

“Oh, interesting,” Ann’ chuckled under her breath before calling cheerfully: “Lindir, she’s not going to be able to work tonight. Stop staring at the new girl’s tits and do something.”

“What? No…I…”

When Lú turned around, she could see her new supervisor’s face darken rapidly as the flash flood of blood rose with alarming rapidity in his cheeks; he seemed a very decent chap indeed…and he looked desperate.

His elegant hand rubbed helplessly over that fair brow – puckered in confusion – as he pondered his options.

“If you give me your shirt, I can do it,” Lú offered.

“My…what?” Lindir merely stared back at her, unable to comprehend that a woman – very directly – had asked him to take off his clothes.

“I can either dash up, unpack my whole suitcase, find an appropriate shirt, or you can give me yours,” Lú grinned and motioned to the corridor in which she now knew his office lay.

“Come with me,” he groaned and turned on his heels sharply.

As all of you know, I am deadly insecure about this project (once more), so getting any kind of feedback would be very nice and helpful for me...

Thank you...

-> Chapter 2

-> If you like my writing, please do not hesitate to drop me a line, a DM, a reblog, or any other sign 💖

[anne-i-write]

moriarty the patriot headcannons pt. 1

| requested by anon: Can you write about all male characters in moriarty has a same look of their  children and hpw many children they want? |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader; sebastian x reader; fred x reader

word count: 2397

pt. 2: 221b boys

a/n: I DONT KNOW WHY I DIDNT WRITE THIS EARLIER IM SO SORRY THIS REQUEST HAS LITERALLY BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG I AM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS

william: 487 words

with his whole plan to clean the world of the filthy nobles, william never really stopped to think about having children

well, until he met you

you both were in town one day and he saw you fondly watching a child speak with her mother

“i think two children would be nice”

“i didn’t even ask”

“i know, but the look you gave that mother was telling enough”

n e ways he is a simp and he did eventually give you what you wanted

fast forward a few years, you have two children: a boy and a girl

and they look exactly like their father

like,, it lowkey pains you how much they physically take after their father

you wanted to be like “oh they have your personality, but they look just like me!”

no

granted, your son took after you in an emotional sense but your daughter was a daddy’s girl through and through

like she looks like him, she acts like him, speaks like him, she even EATS like him

ok but the men w your children

fred is a freaking sweetheart ok

like he’ll watch over the kids when no one has the time and they love him too so they’ll help out in the garden which you are SO thankful for

tbh they only like uncle albert bc he brings them lil trinkets from when he gets back from london LMAO

louis doesn’t show it, but he absolutely adores your children and makes extra snacks for them at tea time

you caught onto this at one point bc for some REASON your kids would not stop bouncing off of the walls before bed and they told you uncle louis gave them chocolate

and sebastian loves messing w your kids bc,,, sebastian

but he accidentally made your son cry ONCE and he was at the mercy of every adult in the moriarty estate including the boy’s younger sister

needless to say, he watched his actions and words around your children after that

now, william

i’m just gonna say this straight out: most of the men never really thought about having kids (save john and albert)

but when you finally had kids, william had a different outlook on life

like fr,, this man works overtime now trying to get rid of the filth that is called nobles

he doesn’t want his kids to be raised in a world where just because you have more money than another means you get to look down on them

you still instill in them those good morals ofc

he also tries to be very present in their lives since he and his brother were raised as orphans

when he was younger, he didn’t mind it all much

but now that he had this small family and a brighter future, he did everything in his power to make sure they’re happy and grow up in a cleaner and kinder world

louis: 320 words

it took you a week to get him to at LEAST humor you

“if you could, how many kids do you want?”

“none”

like, this guy is so dedicated to his brother and his cause it is a WONDER you somehow wormed your way into his heart

but you did and honestly, the brothers are actually very happy that you’re with them

william especially

louis rarely emotes but when you came into their lives, you got louis pissed at one point and everyone was like,,,, wtf?? he has emotions???

anyways, his answer is one kid LMAO

and when you get that one kid, he looks just like louis

yall already KNOW that he’s ready to die for that child as soon as louis holds him in his arms

the only kid sebastian wouldnt even try to mess with

he can deal with william’s albert’s or fred’s kids but louis lowkey intimidates him so he’s as nice as he can be

that being said, louis teaches his kid how to properly handle stuff around the house

you want to cry bc ur son is just so??? the little kid just loves helping out no matter how small the task and he’s just so cute it hurts

even sebastian’s kinda like,, “aight he’s the only kid i will tolerate”

louis grew up with only his brothers so he also wants to give his son a shot at a normal family

is actually aware at how he thinks he’s indispensable for william’s cause and he doesn’t want his son to end up like him

he also teaches his son some badass fighting moves

oh and louis smiles a lot more too

cried bc his son saw the scar he got on his cheek, rubbed some dirt on his lil face and said “i have daddy’s cool scar now”

all in all his son is the best thing to happen to all of you

albert: 505 words

same as louis in the fact that it takes him a week to answer

“you know you haven’t even answered my question”

“i’m sorry, what did you say?”

“how many kids do you want?”

genuinely takes time to ponder that question

he hadn’t thought of that since his family adopted william and louis

but with you?

“i think two darling girls who take after their mother is enough for me”

pls he’d be so sweet 🥺🥺🥺

you two end up having a girl and a boy, who look just like their father

and tbh, you’re not even mad

you love them so much so when albert comes back north, the three of you are ecstatic

the happiness was short lived for albert tho

he found his son spending time with william and there’s nothing bad right????

“where’s your sister?”

“she’s with mr. moran”

his heart DROPPED

out of all the people in the manor

HIM

he sees the two running around the garden

it all happened as soon as albert’s daughter went up to sebastian and said “you’re very pretty! you’re my knight now!”

he decided to “adopt” the little girl and now he’s lowkey whipped

you found albert staring at sebastian playing with his daughter and updated him about everything going on

“but him??”

“he’s just a big softie for her let it go”

isn’t really surprised when he finds out they can fight a little

actually glad that they can hold their own, God forbid anything happens to them

otherwise mi6 has to deal w family matters lmao

“albert, she only tripped”

“you shouldve seen the fear in her eyes as she fell”

“IT WAS A STRAY COBBLESTONE”

would raise hell if anyone even THOUGHT ill of his kids

william and louis are the doting uncles

william more so than louis bc your kids have never seen louis smile

now they’re on a mission to make uncle louis smile

louis was on child duty one day and they managed to slip away

omyGOD he was stressed but also,, extremely worried

so when he found them he had the most genuine smile on his face

your daughter was like (・∀・)

she loves uncle louis

ofc your son adores his dad like,,, who else wouldn't feel awesome at the age of 10 if you found out your dad was a high ranking general

feels superior to sebastian bc of his dad

lmao this 4’5 kid thinks he can rule sebastian for some odd reason

the house is always dirty bc him and sebastian always prank each other

your daughter is trying to catch a butterfly but she can’t so fred helps

instantly loves fred

“is that what heartbreak is”

“i guess that’s what happens when you try to get close to my kids colonel”

albert is kind of afraid of turning into his dad but he has you and everyone else to remind him that: no you are not your father, you are so much better than him

loves your family with his entire being

sebastian: 844 words

“i see you looking at those kids and the answer is none”

lmao you’ll get so pouty around him bc you want kids dammit

that and he spoils you to no end so that's why you’re pouty lol

“fine we’ll only do one kid and bc one kid is all i can tolerate”

bruh

this man gives you three in four years LMFAO

two boys a year apart and a girl in the fourth year

you wanted to smack sebastian

when the two boys grew up, it was obvious they were already taking after their father in the physical sense

it was terrifying

they genuinely look like mini sebastians and you know everyone in the manor is afraid that you two birthed satan

and the satan was your eldest one

he’s just a feral sebastian moran in a tiny body

your second son, god bless him, looked just like his father but with fred’s temperament

and see, you were fine with your sons looking like their father

it was FINE right

you prayed to God that your third child would have at least some physical resemblance to you

your daughter was birthed, she grew up

and you cried

“HOW DO THEY ALL LOOK LIKE YOU”

“i’ve got some strong genetics, baby”

you sulk for a lil bit

but you accept it anyway because you love your goddamn kids

thankfully, your second and youngest child are both soft spoken and it's only your husband and his tiny clone bringing hell to earth

smacking sebastian bc all of your children suddenly started swearing up a storm at each other

“WHYD YOU HIT ME”

“YOURE THE ONLY ONE WHO SWEARS AROUND THE KIDS”

finally sitting down and trying to convince them to stop swearing

“father does it!”

“your father’s stupid”

speaking of your daughter

she’s his little princess and no he will not take criticism

spoils her more than he spoils you

did she glance at a toy at a passing store?

he buys more toys than he should from said store

you have to physically hide some of his money bc there is only so much you can buy

and her older brothers are so caring you want to sob

if a person accidentally shoved her over bc she was tiny and they couldn’t see her

oh boy

get ready to restrain them like chihuahuas

“little sister will be protected at all costs”

since his second son is so different from him, sebastian actively makes time to talk about what the little boy is doing and what he’s getting from it

doesn’t want to be pushy and suffocating like his dad was so when his younger kid does want to be left alone to his devices, sebastian does so

but honestly loves that your second son is so literate

lddhsajdsfk what yall dont know is that they’re all in cahoots

kinda funny to see them all together bc they all take after their father so much it's like having three tiny sebastians go around town

anyways,,,, yall know the promised neverland right

you got ray, norman, and emma

granted one of them wasn’t as smart as ray but he definitely knew what stealth was

regular sibling rivalry was still a thing but if they could smell the pudding from the kitchen, they know they have to work together

sebastian caught his eldest smuggling biscuits into a small bag

he had half a mind to scold him

but then he ended up giving tips TO ALL HIS CHILDREN on how not to get caught next time—

bc of this they beg him to tell them some stories from afghanistan bc “there’s no way a man as old as dad knows this many stealth tactics”

louis is so fed up lmao

albert is in london most of the time so he just thanks the lord that he doesn’t have to deal w the propaganda that sebastian feeds his children about how “mr. albert is a bad man”

william is fine w it as long as they don’t trash the library

your younger ones love the library so they would cry at the thought of one of the books losing any of the pages

your second and your daughter are definitely the moriartys’ favorites

they don’t show it, but you just KNOW

your eldest could care less about that though

as long as you and his father still love him

and of course you both do

and fred is definitely your youngers favorite

they like to hang out in the garden

ok they still fight all the time though

just because your second child is soft spoken doesn't mean he’s afraid to throw hands

their sister likes to join in for the hell of it

but if someone wrongs any of the children

just because the younger ones are the moriartys’ favorite, doesn’t mean that they’re not gonna hunt someone down if they even think about trying to hurt the eldest too

yeah,,, good luck to them and their families

they got the entire moriarty estate coming after them

fred: 241 words

cmon yall are like,, young

but you did ask him bc you were curious if he thought about it

he wants one

and when yall do have the kid, you guys actually do have one kid and its a girl

since you both are young, you can immediately see a resemblance between her and her father

everyone who meets her would die for her

ABSOLUTE CUTIE

especially when she walks around the garden w her hand in her dad’s and he’s showing her all the plants and telling her how to take care of them

needless to say she grows up loving plants

any type of plant

the boys love giving her flowers or anything from bc she has the biggest smile every single time

no matter if it’s just a single rose or a rock

this was found out one time when sebastian gave her a rock bc everyone else had given her like,, two roses each

was afraid she was gonna cry

“thank you so much mr. moran! i will treasure this until i get old!”

she was like 4 at the time

and had the widest smile you’ve ever seen on her

guys u don’t understand she smiles a lot but this was like,, genuine happiness

but everyone was just,, i will destroy the world and myself if anything happens to her

fr it’s just sunshines and rainbows every single time she’s around

everyone just loves her ok

moriarty the patriot general taglist: @zoehanji

[endlessly-cursed]

HL- Mandy Parkinson

𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙛𝙖𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨, 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝘼𝙥𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩

Name: Maddalena Erin Parkinson 

Nicknames: Mandy

Birthdate: 1st of June, 18xx 

Zodiac Sign: Gemini 

Personality Type (MBTI): tbd 

Blood Status: Pureblood 

Nationality: British 

Physical Appearance

Hair: Dark brown 

Eyes: Blue/brown (depends on the light) 

Height: 1.55m 

Weight: 48kg 

Body Type: Small

Skin Tone: Caucasian 

Distinguishing Marks (scars, birthmarks, etc.): a small birthmark on her lower back, a star tattoo on her shoulder blade 

Background

Mandy Parkinson was the daughter of pureblood father John Parkinson and Maria Amalia Crouch. She grew up as the only daughter and shadowed by her four tall, dark and handsome brothers, all whom inherited vast things, while she only had her dowry should she marry an equal pureblood man. 

She was raised by nannies who expected her to be perfect and breed her to be a submissive, quiet and controlling wife, and soon her father began negotiations of a marriage with the heir of the Yaxley family, but was cut after the death of the patriarch. She grew to be spoiled, meddlesome, bitchy and believing the ‘mudblood’ and half-blood girls were jealous of her and wanted to be her, which gained her enemies in every other houses. She believed herself superior to other non-wealthy and pureblood women, belittling them and trying to make them believe that no man of a certain status would ever look their own way. 

Hometown

Parkinson Manor is one of the most imposing, opulent and luxurious houses, showing off their wealth and blood status, decorated with serpents and other tokens to threaten invaders and rivals. She grew up by nannies, rarely going out, too busy making of her a lady that would be the wife of a pureblood man. 

Family

Mother: Maria Amalia Parkinson, neé Crouch 

A quiet, submissive and prone to be a people pleaser, she grew up distant of her daughter, focusing on her heir, neglecting the other. Her beauty was her best asset and one of the very first reasons her father married her, which drove her mad when her husband had numerous affairs, eventually locking her up in the attic, only allowing to see her only daughter when she was about to walk down the aisle. 

Father: John Parkinson 

The typcal pureblood man of the era, he never truly cared for his daughter, too focused on his sons to even acknowledge her sometimes, Though subtlely, he was mentally abusive towards his wife and daughter, reducing them to the status he had given them and their beauty and ability to give sons, which ended up with his wife being locked in the attic, declaring her ‘mad’ and leaving his daughter to harsh and overly strict tutors and nannies. The moment she married and had her dowry, she never contacted her father again. 

Hogwarts

House: Slytherin 

Best Class: Potions 

Worst Class: DADA 

Boggart: Her father never truly leaving her live 

Riddikulus: She could never successfully cast it 

Patronus: Mandy can’t cast a patronus 

Patronus Memory: She has no happy memories 

Mirror of Erised: Being married to someone who loves her as she is, not only her status and beauty 

Amortentia (what she smells like): gooseberries, lillies, expensive soap and cologne and freshly washed linen 

Amortentia (what she smells): woodsmoke, earl grey tea, tbd 

Career

11-18: Hogwarts student 

20-Retirement: Housewife

Personality & Attitude

Priorities: Procuring a good marriage, escaping her father and releasing her mother 

Strengths: Ambitious, cunning, highly smart and never aims low 

Weaknesses: Pureblood supremacist, easily indoctrinated, close-minded and a bully, jealous, overzealous and can be clingy and controlling 

Stressed: Around her father and brothers 

Calm/Comforted: Alone, playing the harp 

Favorites

Colors: Green, black and white 

Weather: Cloudy 

Hobbies: Playing the harp, sewing, singing, reciting poetry and fashion 

Fashion: She dresses showing off her wealthy status and beauty, remarking on her eyes and her generous cleavage 

Relationships

Significant Other/Love Interest: tbd 

Friends: tbd 

Rivals: Primrose Gray, Cecilia Balinor, the entire house of Gryffindor, tbd 

Trivia

Her father negotiated a possible marriage between the only son of Castor Yaxley and herself, but was cancelled after the death of Mr. Yaxley 

On sixth year, she got into a huge fight with Lady Gray, resulting with her nose broken- which sparked an intense rivalry between the two of them over the affections of Laurent Yaxley ( @slytherindisaster​ ) 

Though she tends to bully and make cry half-bloods and muggleborns, she does feel a small remorse 

She does not take well rejection, hence her enormous and fragile ego and entitlement 

She is regarded as one of Slytherin’s beauties and examples of a ‘true woman’ 

She often flirts with other women’s betrothed to bully them further and prove that she could have anyone 

At one point, she tried to convince the Di Napolis to marry her to the firstborn, Ernest, and he rejected her, which resulted in her throwing a tantrum that ended up in scandal, for he had rejected her for a half-blood Gryffindor, thing she took as a personal insult to herself @beloved-bucky​

At one point in her 40s she grows out of her childish behaviour and while she’s too proud to make amends, she no longer behaves like that. Marriage have changed her perspective by now 

[keijislove]

Challenging Fate: Tom Riddle X Reader

A/N: warnings: LONG ASS

“S’cuse me Professor!” a timid looking first year poked his head in through the door of your Potions class, “May I borrow a Y/N L/N?”

“Well, yes, of course.” Slughorn said impatiently, “Miss L/N, you may go.”

You rose to your feet and left after the first year in confusion: what did he want you for?

As if he’d read your thoughts, the tiny boy squeaked, “The head boy’s been asking for you... he said he’d curse me if I didn’t call you.”

You scoffed in utter disgust: how very like him. You crouched down to the boy’s level and spoke gently, “I’m sorry... but I don’t exactly think it’s a good idea for me to see him right now. If he dares to curse you, I’ll jinx his tongue off.”

Seeming frightened, yet not wanting to argue with a full-grown sixth year like you, the boy scurried off down the corridor.

Watching him leave, you muttered to yourself, “Nice try, Riddle.”

------------

“Y/N!” your friend Margot chanted, “C’mere!”

“What?” you asked, walking over.

“Your rounds have changed,” she explained, “We’re not together any longer. I’ve got to be with that swotty Hufflepuff prefect and you’re set with the other Slytherin prefect. Head boy.”

“What?!” you groaned loudly, “What for?! I know he’s perfectly capable of doing his rounds himself! He just wants to - I dunno what he wants from me!”

“I reckon he fancies you, mate,” Margot seriously spoke, “And I don’t see what you’re complaining ‘bout, he’s perfect.”

“A perfect arse, yes,” you said dismissively, “And he doesn’t fancy me.”

“Maybe he wants to be friends with you?” she asked.

“He’s lost his chance,” you fiercely said, “And these rounds are going to be murderous.”

-----------

As predicted, your prefect duties made you want to commit murder. To kill this stupid, arrogant, full-of-himself Slytherin standing beside you with an irritating air of superiority and smugness.

“Did you honestly think that you could evade me forever?” he asked you in what you thought was more of a sneer than anything.

“You’re exploiting your privileges as a head boy,” you pointed out in anger, “You’re supposed to take care of the school, not annoy some poor girl to death with your endless ‘peace offerings’!”

“Why have you been ignoring me for the past five years?” demanded Tom in a voice that shook the corridor.

“Because you’re an arse,” you said indifferently.

“You-” Tom drew his wand and made a sort of strangling gesture.

Your eyebrows rose up questioningly as you stood your ground, unflinching and not intimidated by his superior persona.

“Touché, Riddle,” you said, “Threatening people to get what you want. Real mature.”

Tom made a sort of hoarse grunt, dropping his arms limply to his sides before speaking, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done.”

“That is exactly how I felt five years ago,” you deadpanned, checking your watch, “And our time’s over. Goodbye, Tom Riddle.”

----------

“But I don’t get what he is supposed to have done.” Margot muttered as you climbed into your four-poster bed.

“That is something strictly private,” you curtly said, wrenching the hangings closed and burying yourself into your blanket.

Lying there, you thought back to the torturous year you had endured after what seemed like an unbreakable friendship suddenly went horribly wrong.

Your next few rounds with Tom continued smoothly, him bugging you and you refusing to talk to him.

“What’re you gonna do after school?” Tom had abruptly asked one day when you were patrolling the corridor.

“Certainly not what you are going to do,” you muttered.

Tom looked confused, “Huh?”

“Oh, you know,” you dismissively said, “Lord Voldemort.”

“How do you know about that?” he demanded furiously.

“I may be a year younger than you, but we’re still in the same house,” you coolly spoke, “I didn’t see you fancying the former when you were in your second year.”

“I told you, that was not my fault!” Tom angrily snapped at you. He hated it that you were pointing out his faults. Because you were right.

“Was it mine, then?” you asked, “My fault?!”

“I never said-”

“Oh really?” you spat, “You didn’t say? Because if I recall correctly, Tom, you did say. You said a lot of things.”

“Do not shout at me,” Tom’s face morphed into a snarl so revolting that even you had to take a small step back.

Pleased that he had frightened you, he spoke, “Come do your rounds like you’re asked to. Time’s over for now, you can leave. And take this.”

He thrust a lopsided package at you. You furiously opened and closed your mouth several times, Tom’s sneer widening with each one, before you gave up and glared straight into his face before whipping around and out of sight.

Tearing open the package once you had reached your dorm, you found the shard of a mirror, as if it had been cracked into two. You had a sneaking suspicion what it was and that theory was confirmed once you saw a single, dark eye whip in and out of sight. Roaring with fury, you threw it into your trunk, ignoring Margot’s snap of, “Really now!”

What had happened between you and Tom, nobody knew. In fact, you didn’t think there was a soul at Hogwarts that knew what had happened. Thinking back to the days when you were both young, tears often stung the corners of your eyes.

You and Tom were best friends. Perhaps even closer – like a half without which the other always remained incomplete. What happened? Where had it gone so horribly wrong? Easy. Magic.

----------

Your school day were finally over – you were a full-grown witch who had come of age. As you had told many people earlier, it was your ambition to become a Healer. Yet you sat here in a small yet comfortable house with your house elf, Hokey.

“You is looking nervous today miss,” Hokey remarked. You were kind to house elves in general, leading to this bond between you and Hokey.

“Anxious, Hokey,” you muttered, “I don’t feel so good.”

“Is you ill, missus?” Hokey worriedly asked, “Hokey can make tea-”

“No, no,” you tried mustering a smile, “I just... my cousin Hepzibah is meeting someone today, and I don’t have a very good feeling about it.”

“She is upsetting you,” Hokey angrily said, “That miss Smith is upsetting my mistress.”

“Nobody’s upsetting me,” you hurriedly said, “The man she has asked for... I... I know him.”

“The young Master Riddle?” Hokey asked, interested, “Hokey likes master Riddle. He always knows what to say to Hokey.”

“Yes, he does that,” you muttered in distaste.

Finally deciding that you couldn’t take it anymore, you sat up, “Hokey, I have a job for you. You will hide in Ms Smith’s Manor and tell me exactly what takes place between her and Tom Riddle.”

And with a sort of gratifying salute, Hokey disapparated with a loud crack.

---------

After about two hours of nonstop pacing and wringing your hands together, your elf apparated into your living room.

“Well?” you asked, “Did you hear anything?”

“Yes, miss, Hokey is hearing lots, miss!” she squeaked, eyes shining with excitement, “The young master Riddle has asked Ms. Smith to show him her two prized possessions!”

“Er, what were these possessions?” you asked, steadily growing more anxious, terrified your suspicions might be correct.

“A locket, miss,” Hokey earnestly said, “And a cup. She – she says the locket is his, miss, Salazar Slytherin’s! And the cup! Very pretty cup, miss, she says it belongs to-”

“Helga Hufflepuff?” you asked in a horrified voice.

Hokey nodded.

“Hokey, was he.... was he wearing some sort of bracelet or- or a ring or...?” you breathlessly asked.

“A ring, miss,” she answered, “Black stone, miss, looked expensive to Hokey.”

Trembling slightly, you nodded, “Thank you Hokey, you may leave.”

TWO DAYS LATER

THE DAILY PROPHET

RESIDENT OF DIAGON ALLEY – HEPZIBAH SMITH, 54, FOUND DEAD INSIDE HOUSE

“Oh my god,” you whispered, laying the newspaper feverishly in front of you. You buried your head in your hands, thinking back to the time you’d been extremely confused to have found a talking diary in your friend’s trunk. It all added up now, what he was doing, where he was, what he was.

Grabbing the shard of a mirror you had sworn to never use, you desperately looked into it. You were uncertain as to what you should do, so you resorted to lamely calling, “Um, Tom?”

No response.

You could’ve sworn you’d seen a small dark eye flash into sight, but you couldn’t be sure, for it was gone the moment it came.

“I don’t have time for this!” you whispered angrily to the wretched mirror, “I know you’re there! I know you’re listening! And I... I know what you’ve done.”

A flash of brown – gone.­

“Tom,” you desperately said, “Tom, please listen to me. If maybe we could just... talk this out?”

For the first time in what felt like hours, a pair of cold, dark eyes flashed into the mirror.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The voice was monotonous, constricted and cold as the eyes on the handsome face it originated from.

“I think you do,” you quietly said, “You did it, didn’t you? You killed Hepzibah Smith.”

“How did you-”

“Because I know you, Tom, I know you. I know what you’re really like!” you angrily cried, “You think you’re so secretive, which is true, I doubt your ‘Death Eater’ friends can tell if you’ve done something. But I know you. I know how you go about things; I know what you’re up to, I know what you’ve done and what you’ve become. And I know what this will lead to.”

“You don’t know anything about me!” his voice snarled with fury, “You, sitting there, you-”

“Tom, please just – just come over to my place for, even a few minutes if that suits you,” you desperately said, “Please.”

“Whatever you’ve got to say won’t change me-”

“I’m not saying it will,” you quietly said, “But I want to do what a friend does-”

“Now she wants to be friends,” Tom furiously bellowed, “Six bloody years of trying to convince her – but no! Let me tell you this, L/N, Lord Voldemort does not have friends. Lord Voldemort is a frankly terrible friend-”

“But Tom Riddle is not,” you spoke.

This statement seemed to have some impressive effect on him, for he said nothing for a solid five minutes. Then, voice quavering in the slightest, he said, “Don’t freak out if I Apparate.”

--------

Sure enough, a few seconds later, there was a crack and a man wearing the Borgin and Burke’s employee T shirt appeared in your living room.

“Make this quick.” Tom said seriously.

“You have something to do?”

“No, but I’d rather not stay too long with you,” he snapped.

Ignoring this unnecessary jibe, you guided him to the couch. After a few minutes of a deafening silence, you spoke, trying to keep your voice even, “I know you’ve been making Horcruxes.”

If there was anything he’d expected you to say, it was certainly not this. His eyebrows rose to a point where they disappeared into his neat, dark hair and he asked, “How in the name of Merlin’s saggy left trouser legs-”

“Secrets if the Darkest Art,” you explained, “You left it open on the common-room table one night.”

Tom swore loudly.

“And, I found your ‘amusing’ talking diary.” you snapped, “D’you have any idea how long it took for me to find out what you were up to?”

“You did though, that’s amazing in itself,” Tom breathlessly said. Suddenly, his face shifted into the grin you knew so well, “I knew you were smart.”

“And I though you were too!” you spoke, “Apparently not, if you think this is what you’re going to do with your life!”

Tom’s grin faded instantly.

“I don’t-”

“- want to listen to reason,” you firmly stated, “Come with me.”

Several protests later, you had managed to wrench the boy out of his seat and into your bedroom.

A shallow stone basin lay there, with odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols. A silvery light was coming from the basin's contents, neither liquid nor gas.

“A Pensieve?” Tom asked inquiringly.

You placed a finger on your lips and dragged him over before extracting a long, silvery, thread-like substance. It swirled in the basin menacingly as Tom saw a younger version of himself floating in it.

Giving you a questioning look to which you nodded, he ducked inside the Pensieve.

A small boy was sitting on a bed in a greying room with a book in his hand. This mundane occurrence was maddening and he found himself constantly glancing at the door, as if waiting for someone.

Sure enough, the door opened and a small girl of around ten with H/C hair and E/C eyes walked inside.

“Hi,” the boy grinned, “What do we do, then?”

“I wanna eat something,” the girl pouted, “They gave us horrible food for lunch today.”

“Rightfully said,” the young boy muttered, “Let’s sneak out, the old cat’s got sandwiches stashed up inside her personal pantry.”

The girl gasped, “Tom! We’ll get caught!”

“You doubt me too much, Y/N,” the boy faked hurt.

-         

A woman was shouting at two meek children at the top of her voice.

“Sneaking out! What were you thinking! No supper for both of you-”

“But Mrs Cole,” the young boy called Tom interjected, “Why does she not get any supper? I led her here myself. It was me.”

Mrs Cole and young Y/N gasped at the same time.

“You – you nasty boy!” Mrs Cole yelled, “You trick all my poor children into your little schemes! I’m telling you, you’re not right in the head!”

-         

A slightly older and more-haughty looking version of Tom Riddle was striding up the orphanage’s hallway, disgruntled.

Upon entering his room, an eleven-year-old Y/N flung herself upon him in a hug, saying, “Oh Tom! “I missed you so much since you left!”

“Get of me!” Tom shouted, throwing her off with all his might, “Don’t talk to me, you filthy muggle!”

“Filthy mug- what are you saying?” the girl asked, “What-”

“I don’t know you,” he coldly stated, “And get out of my room.”

-         

A much more reserved eleven-year-old Y/N was moodily stabbing her potatoes at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.

Beside her, a dark-haired boy occasionally kept poking her side to get her attention.

Refusing to listen, she resumed a deadpan stare at the plate in front of her, disgusted at the boy next to her.

How could he think all was forgiven when he had said such horrible things to her?

Landing straight onto the bedroom floor, you pointedly looked away, refusing to meet the eyes of the man next to you.

You could practically hear the cogs turning over in his head as his eyes bore into your stiff figure.

“I-” he thickly began.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you waved off, “But that was just part of it. I showed you a bit of your past... now let me show you a bit of your future.”

Tom looked mildly confused for a few minutes, but his expression cleared as you pointed to a glass ball on the table.

“Ah,” he spoke, “You were always good at Divination.”

“Thank merlin I was,” you muttered, “Look in here.”

Muttering an incoherent incantation under your breath, you watched, satisfied, as a face swam into focus inside the glass ball.

Well – if someone was kind enough to call it a face, that was.

It’s skin was paper-white and tautened, with two slits for nostrils, a thin mouth and a pair of cold, red eyes with vertical slits for pupils. The cruel-looking mouth opened and whispered an unfamiliar name – “Harrrrrrrry Potterrrrrrrrrrr.”

There was a sharp gasp next to you as the ball nearly went flying. Not caring, Tom looked at you in a mixture of disgust, revulsion and horror, “What – what was that thing?!”

“That was you,” you quietly said, “It’s where you’re going.”

“That was me?!” he asked in a horrified whisper, “That – that – monster?”

“Yes,” you moaned into your palms, “It was.”

“What did it – what did I say?” he asked, “A name... I don’t recognise it...”

“Harry Potter,” you spoke.

“Who?”

“He is born about forty years later or so,” you explained, “I looked into his future as well.”

“And?” his patience seemed to be wearing off.

“And you attacked him. Every chance you got, because he deprived you of your power when you tried to kill him. You know why? Because of love. Love, Tom, this baby showed you sense when you were too blind to see it. And you know what happens in the end?” you whispered in anguish.

“What?”

“He kills you, Tom, he kills you,” you miserably said, “You ruined your own life and this poor boy’s as well – I – Oh, just look!”

Repeating the incantation, you gestured Tom to look into the ball once again. The adorable smiling face of an eleven-year-old swam into focus – one which quickly morphed into horror and uttered out a bloodcurdling scream. An innocent boy.

“Please tell me this isn’t true,” Tom whispered, “No, it can’t be, it-”

“It is Tom, it is you!” you said desperately, “This is why – I’ve been telling you all along that-”

“I think.” Tom said loudly, voice shaking, “I told you that nothing you would say would change my mind?”

And you watched in absolute horror as your once childhood best friend, now unrecognisably inhumane, Disapparated out of your house.

------------

Working as a Healer in St Mungo’s was fairly fun, just as you’d expected, and you were perfectly content tending to your patients all day, buzzing from ward to ward.

"Healer L/N." a crisp, abrupt voice startled you out of the little daydream. "New patient. It's extremely critical." 

 "Can't it-" you asked, gesturing to the occupied beds in your ward. 

 "Wait?" the head Healer asked, "Afraid not, Y/N. This one insists to be attended to by you." 

 "Well, okay." you muttered, nonplussed. 

 Following her into the magical maladies ward, you gasped at the sight of the frail body in the bed. The head Healer swooped out, slamming the door as you took in what you were seeing. 

 Tom Riddle was lying down, thin as a twig, pale as a sheet and trembling, but his features still forced into what was evidently a pained smile. 

 "I-you-what on Earth?" you sputtered. 

 "The cu-" he winced in pain, trying to sit up as you rushed to help, "The cup is the only one left." 

 Realisation washing over you like an icy wave, you nearly burst into tears. 

 "Oh -  god, not so much as a warning, Tom..." you muttered, "I could've helped and-" 

 "And nearly died in the process?" he scoffed, "Haven't I put you through enough grief?" 

 He stated right into your eyes with a blazing passion. You didn't know what happened, somehow your lips were now glued together and moving in sync, not a care in the world. 

 FIVE YEARS LATER 

 "Daddyyyyyy!" your bubbly daughter, Merope, was speeding around the room on a toy broomstick. "Daddy look, I did it!" 

 "Amazing, sweetheart." Tom smiled at the child, "You'll grow up to be a proper woman like your mother, one day." 

 "Daddy, how did Mummy and you fall in love?" Merope abruptly asked out of nowhere. 

 "Ahh..."  Tom muttered in embarrassment as you stuffed your knuckles into your mouth to suppress your giggles, "Daddy made a lot of bad choices, darling. Mummy helped him see that." 

 "Ooh, so you were like the mean Prince?" Merope asked excitedly. 

 "Yes, exactly. And your mum was the princess." Tom smiled. 

 "Yayy." Merope squealed, "I'm gonna get married one day, watch!" she ran upstairs, humming loudly. 

 "Princess Y/N?" you asked, cringing. 

 "Oh cmon what else was I supposed to say?" Tom demanded. 

 "That's true." you agreed, "But try not to call me that. Like, ever." 

 "Alright, beautiful." Tom pressed a swift kiss to your temple. 

 "Princess." he added before running for it as you scrambled furiously after him. 

A/N: WHOOO I HOPE YOU LIKED THATTT. Also, I’ve noticed that the most popular oneshots are my Tom Riddle ones...