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yanxidarlings · 10 months ago

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hello !! I've been really interested in your "not slytherin" writing and i think i have reread it more than 20-ish times hahahah since it's really good and you're the reason why i am invested in all these fan characters (since i didnt see what their appeal was before reading your work).

and now speaking of it, I'm now thinking about a specific "what if?" scenario, and that is; what if the suffering the reader goes through becomes so much to the point it transforms them into an obscurial? they have pretty much oppressed all their emotions, all their negativity, for four years— and it broke them. and the angst would be so good for this. the reader would definitely be more than distrustful. they're afraid that since their name has already been burnt off their own family; they would soon be expelled or even worse taken into the ministry for how dangerous they are to the other students. and this would definitely up the yandere factor to another level. they're aware theyre at fault for most of the reader's suffering, and that a single trigger would cause them to burst but then they can't do a single fucking thing about it or else.

not a request, but it's something ive been thinking about for a long time now !! (I'm really new to the hp fandom and ur writing definitely made me want to read more into them so I'm glad i stumbled upon it suddenly ^^)

dude, broski, broskilenski, ur a wizard of some sort because HOW ELSE COULD YOU READ MY MIND

i was considering making the reader an obscurial (my favourite fanfiction trope by far) but hesitent incase it was too farfetched but I HAVE BEEN GIVEN A SIGN

was sitting on not slytherin aye p2 but this ask has given me the inspiration to write

so without further adieu, with compliments to the other not slytherin p2 ask

jaythes1mp asked:

Could you do a part two of your latest fic (at this time) — YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE?

Where all the sudden suffocating affection they’re showing him after years of tournament makes him leave Hogwarts because he’s so terrified. He knows they couldn’t have changed, since they’re still threatening anyone near him. But once news gets around to them that he’s leaving for good? How would they take the news? And if they learn that he’s been disowned from his family? Would that be a good or bad thing — because now they can’t arrange a marriage. And it would be harder to find him if he got out of their grasps.

Would they be forced to team up? Would they force him into an unbreakable vow or blood pact??

Please do my request, I’ll beg. Just ask, I will actually get on my knees and beg. 🙏🙏🙏🙏

i present

YANDERE SLYTHERIN BOYS: NOT SLYTHERIN, AYE? P2

“remember, you have to do anything to be slytherin, no matter what it takes” draco's words replayed in m/n's head. he'd replayed that sentance so much it had become distorted, is that even what he said m/n thought to himself, watching the train pass by.

under his eyes were bags the size of boulders, he hadn't slept in days. not since..

"excuse me, sir" a voice rung in his head. m/n shook his head, he wanted it all to go away, go away, go away- "mister, i'm gonna have to ask you for ID" somesort of internal wiring within him snapped "GO AWAY" m/n screamed, finally turning to face to the person- man.. muggle police officer, that had been addressing him.

the officer moved back, taking a strange device off his uniform and speaking into it "i'm gonna need back-up, barkley" whilst the man was engaged, m/n made a run for it.

"GET BACK HERE YOUNG MAN" the police officer bellowed, chasing after the teenage boy.

running through, down the subway and onto the train tracks, the officer gave up the pursuit. sooner or later the boy would be run over by an oncoming train in the tunnels.

after running for who knows how long, m/n finally slowed to a walking pace. then he stopped. the sound of a horn filled his ears, the pitch black tunnel illuminated by the vehicles headlights. i

it was getting closer

m/n looked around, there was nowhere to go in the narrow tunnel

closer

tears filled his eyes, but instead of sobbing he began laughing, only to break out into a fit of sobs and then revert back to laughter.

it was too close

suddenly a BANG was heard as the train came to a stop, the tunnel filled with black mist, which had somehow crushed the head of the train.

it was not natural, it was.. dark magic.

• it was on the front page of the daily prophet the next day 'OBSCURIAL SIGHTING IN SOUTH LONDON SUBWAY' obscurials were no common occurance, the last one was reported in the 1930's, new york.

• it wasn't a cured illness, no, the circumstances of it's development had simply become less common. children of all blood status' had access to education in order to facilitate their powers, and there were muggleborn programs across the world to ensure they did not develop one either.

• it had the ministry stumped. there were no leads on the obscurus, nor was a body found to sugget the outburst had caused the hosts death.

• albus dumbledore was no stranger to obscurials, he had lost so much to them, his sister, his nephew — but he knew well what power the host of one held. and the key role one could play in the coming war.

• which is why he had to find the obscurial before the ministry, or lord voldemort did.

"i am not here to hurt you, m/n" the headmaster called out, slowly approaching the young wizard, who's wand was drawn. "what spell do you plan to use, child?" the older man chimed, it was no secret m/n l/n was never the best with applied magic, like he was with potions or magical creatures

m/n's wand arm shook, "petrificus totalus" upon speaking the words, his wand shot out a spell, of which dumbledore blocked. hitting into the ground, the concrete began to degrade.

terrified, m/n dropped his wand, eyes glassy and wide "i didn't- i have to go" he stuttered out

"there are people who will hurt you, who will use you as a weapon" dumbledore moved closer to the boy who was now shaking "i can help, you can help, you don't have to be the monster the obscurus compels you to be" they were now face to face, or beard to cheek, as m/n couldn't break his eyes away from the concrete.

when the boy nodded, the headmaster took his arm, and a loud POP sounded through the air.

the next day, m/n attended breakfast as if he had not been missing for the past two weeks.

the headmaster had given him his own room under the guise of spacing issues, perhaps having an escape would make this year less hellish, or maybe spending too much time alone would exuberate his growing instability.

at least he could kill one of his tormenters without any witnesses now.

a couple people stared at him as he made his way to the great hall, lovegood had even greeted him. albeit she held the quibbler she had with her close to her chest.

"salazar!" he heard a familiar voice exclaim from behind him, arms wrapping around him "where have you been, l/n" he didn't like the way malfoy was looking at him, it was soft "i thought- i thought you had done something stup-"

m/n was quick to shove off malfoys embrace, rather roughly, before turning around to walk away.

he was pulled back, he now saw malfoys eyes were glassy, as if he was about to cry. what a baby, m/n thought, he wasn't listening to whatever bollocks was coming out malfoys mouth, instead he just glared "and i'm sorry if i was the reason-"

"malfoy, just go cry about this to the house elves, they get paid to care i don't"

and with that, m/n was off, ignoring zabini and nott who were staring at him as he shoved past.

• as the days went by, his tormentors wouldn't leave him alone, but they weren't doing what they always had, they were being nice. which scared him even more. perhaps because niceness was so foreign or because he knew it had to be a ploy for their next big trick.

• he wanted to be left alone by them but there was no way out. they held him in chokeholds they called hugs and suffocated him with what they called kisses.

�� they sat with him in class and one of them was always partnered up with him, but they just wanted to sabotage his grades, and get him expelled.

• they were no longer hostile towards him but towards each other, whenever one caught him with another, they'd fight each other with wits or fists.

• they dragged him to their dorm every night and drew sticks to decide who he would be stuck with for the night. he never slept those nights, they were just waiting for him to fall asleep so they could do something horrible.

• but he rarely ever slept at all these days, which is what contributed to the paranoia that led him to leaving.

• the only reason he stayed was for headmaster dumbledore, who had been attempting to help him learn to control the obscurus, to no avail. when the headmaster was outcast by the ministry, there was no reason to stay and wait to get caught for what he was.

"do you understand your fault, mr l/n" the sickeningly sweet sound of umbridges voice filled his ears, it was more painful than the cuts inflicted on him by the quill he had been forced to write with.

blood was trickling down to the floor, the words that he had been made to write indecipherable, covered in the blood they had drawn. "i must not disrespect the high inquisitor" he uttered, teeth clenched.

"i don't think you understand, mr l/n, twenty more lines"

he remained still, staring at the blood on the carpet, then at the decorative plates embeded with cats, and then at umbridges face.

"i quit"

"pardon, mr l/n?"

m/n stood up out of his chair, dropping the quill on the floor "i'm leaving hogwarts" he threw his wand on the table he had been forced to maim himself at, before storming out of the room.

• the news soon reached the slytherins that their beloved m/n had left the school, leaving them bewildered.

• when draco tried to find the reader by having his father get in contact with the l/n's, it finally hit them that m/n had been disowned, rendering their previous efforts to keep him useless.

BLAISE ZABINI

• blaise is probably the most crushed. his entire plan involved arranging a marriage with the reader, which was now impossible. but what upsets him more is that m/n never even told him. five months and not one mention of being disowned.

• he's mad at the reader until he comes to know the reason for the reader being disowened - because of all he and the other slytherins had done to make it seem like he was a blood traitor.

• blaise hated himself for being a part of it all, but above all, he hated the other slytherins for starting it all. it was draco's fault they all started tormenting him, it was mattheos fault they took it to the extreme.

DRACO MALFOY

• draco had his suspicions from the moment m/n returned, his father had mentioned in passing about the l/n's and how dissapointed they were in their son. but it usually ended in lucius praising draco for being such a good son, so he had never paid it much mind.

• it was his fault, he knew it. he hated feeling powerless but that's what he felt as his father told him m/n hadn't gone back home. m/n didn't have a home. he could be out there all on his own, exposed to the dangers of the muggle world..

• his obsession only grew after m/n left hogwarts, every moment of every day he wondered where he was, if he was okay, if he was with anyone. if he was with anyone he'd end them.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

• enzo had been told by his parents a few months ago they were unable to arrange a marriage because m/n had been disowned. not that he told anyone else, let them think they have him whilst lorenzo makes m/n fall in love with him.

• except his every advance was met with rejection or hostility. and when m/n left for good he was devastated, how were they supposed to live out their love story now?

• lorenzo confronts the other slytherins when the news m/n had left reached them, which is what led to the realization that they were all sickly obsessed with the ravenclaw.

MATTHEO RIDDLE

• something had been strange about m/n the moment he returned, mattheo saw it in his eyes. whether it was what he had gone through the previous years still haunting him, or something else, mattheo tries to get m/n to talk to him, but he's.. mattheo, who once broke m/n's ribcage from beating him.

• it was impossible to foster any trust no matter what he did. he tries to talk about his own struggles, his cruel father and upbringing. he tries to treat m/n like a porcelain doll, but the walls never go down.

• hell hath no rage like a riddle scorned, mattheo would have killed umbridge if tom hadn't stopped him. but he wasn't done with just her, the l/n's were next on his path of rage, and there was little anyone could do to stop him from inflicting a painful death on them

THEODORE NOTT

• theo could barely handle m/n's reluctance to warm up to him, it took every bit of strength in him not to yell and force m/n into opening up, accepting his affection, but m/n not being there at all? theo goes off the rails.

• he fears the worst, what if.. m/n.. theo thinks to himself every moment he's not thinking about how to get him back. when draco tells him m/n was disowned, he broke down crying in the bathroom when he was alone later.

• the world was not safe for a young wizard with no wand or money. what if the dark lord went after him for being a blood traitor. theo went with mattheo to threaten umbridge, and figure out where m/n would have gone.

TOM RIDDLE

• tom could see all the pain m/n was going through when he used legilimency on him. he saw the abuse, the torment, the self hatred, and he knew what the reader had been through and become.

• he's furious that m/n's own parents would disown him, as if he was disposable. it reminded him too much of his own father. but he puts his emotions aside to focus on what really mattered, finding and keeping m/n.

• tom was the only one who had figured out m/n's condition, and used it to his advantage, telling his father that the reader was the obscurus the ministry had been looking for, making m/n voldemorts new target for capture.

tracking down an obscurial was not as simple as the dark lord had anticipated it to be, which is why he delegated the task to his eldest son who had first hand experience with the boy, m/n l/n.

coming to a stop as the sight of the boy filled tom vision, the young death eater watched as m/n stared down his reflection in the water. tom slowly came closer, wand at the ready, until his own reflection revealed his presence.

"you look horrible" the boy turned to face tom as he spoke "you here to kill me, riddle?" m/n sounded resigned, like he had already accepted it.

but that was not what tom was there for. "the dark lord wants you within his ranks" tom stated, avoiding m/n's dead gaze. "what the dark lord wants does not concern me" m/n took a step back, he was scared, tom could tell.

"are you going to make this difficult for me, m/n?" tom took a step closer, snaking an arm around the males waist.

before m/n had the chance to try and stab him in the eye with his own wand, tom stunned him, knocking him out, as lord voldemort came out of the shadows "well done, son" tom looked down at m/n's unconscious face as they apparated. you'll love me oneday.

• the readers condition certainly complicates things for the slytherins, it's no longer simply just subjugate him whether he likes it or not, the readers stability is the difference between life or death, freedom or azkaban for them.

• he becomes the dark lords puppet project, a weapon to use against the order of the phoenix and a tool to keep the future of the death eaters loyal.

• he never returns to hogwarts, tom made sure he was outted as the obscurial so that he'd never have anywhere to run, everywhere he could go he would be seen as a threat, a monster.

• an all-out war breaks out bewteen the slytherins once they have the reader in their grasp again. no one is willing to relent, m/n belongs to them. not the others, them.

• the slytherins would slowly come to the realisation there was no single 'winner', none of them could ever have a normal life with him now the dark lord was back and he had developed an obscurus.

• instead the focus would switch into keeping m/n safe, from voldemort, from himself, from the ministry, from everything.

TOM RIDDLE

• out of all of them, tom can handle m/n's obscurus the best. mostly because he's level headed enough not to set him off. sure he has some sadistic tendencies but at the cost of his own, and surrounding lives?

• tom's obsession was exuberated by the obscurus, it made his darling all the more appealing. to hold such power over someone so powerful is what drives him to sometimes provoke the obscurus, to see what potential m/n truly holds.

• sometimes he goes to far and gets someone or himself seriously injured. he wants to help his darling learn to control the obscurus, but it's hard to acheive when he himself also wants to control his darling.

THEODORE NOTT

• theo is frankly horrified when he finds out m/n had developed an obscurus. he had only ever heard stories about obscurials dying young, after an outburst they can't control.

• he wonders how long m/n had suffered with it for. in the back of his mind, he hopes it was before hogwarts, or else he truly was an absolute piece of shit, to help torment the one he loves most into such a despairful illness.

• theo spends the time he's not with his darling searching through the old pureblood libraries for even a hint of a cure. he wanted to be with his darling forever, but the oldest obscurial only ever lived until 23. theo won't stop until he can figure out how to get rid of the obscurus.

MATTHEO RIDDLE

• mattheo knows he's most likely the reason, above all the other slytherins, for the readers affliction. he was the one who chased him into dark hallways and used the torture curse, the one who said the nastiest things, the one who went the furthest with the torment.

• he wishes he could take all his darlings pain away. because one wrong word, one accidental touch, could send him over the edge. a world without his darling is what scares him the most, above everything fucked up in the wizarding world.

• so he treats m/n like a single bump would shatter him. it's difficult, mattheo isn't exactly the super soft type, but he tries, he knows if any of the slytherins caught m/n looking upset around him they'd end him.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

• enzo underestimates the readers condition, until he finally see's it for himself one day when snape had called m/n a freak, and he exploded. safe to say, it terrified enzo.

• he's under the impression that if he loves m/n enough, the obscurus will go away. deep down he knows it won't, but it helps him justify the heap of affection he doses his darling in. his heart breaks when he's pushed away and he knows pushing back could result in the worst.

• lorenzo is the readers number one caretaker. he always reminds them to eat and get sleep and not to stress about anything. he tries to treat them as normally as possible but it gets difficult when the obscurus mentality kicks in and m/n starts talking about killing them all.

DRACO MALFOY

• draco isn't quite sure how to approach his dear darling after finding out he's an obscurial. draco is overcome with guilt for the hand he had in it, and abominably frustrated he can't just force the reader into doing what he wants.

• when he becomes a death eater he begins to fear for his darlings safety, he hears what the dark lord says about his plans including m/n, and it scares him. there's no regard for m/n's safety or survival, the dark lords only goal is to set m/n off when he takes hogwarts for a quick and easy victory.

• draco tries to get closer to m/n by playing the dependent rich boy, who doesn't know how to do anything for himself. draco figures that if m/n starts to feel responsible for him, it'll be harder for him to leave or say no.

BLAISE ZABINI

• blaises mother told him to stay far away from m/n when she found out. if it were anyone else he would take her advice, but this was his darling, and he could never abandon him over a small imperfection.

• he's the easiest to be around among them all, he doesn't feel the need to always been touching or talking to the reader which is usually what sets him off.

• blaise tries to help m/n settle back into normal life (normal meaning non socially isolated endlessly tormented), but years of torment has taken it's toll in more ways than one. sometimes m/n will accuse blaise and the others of the strangest things, but they all have to take it in stride, or else risk an outburst.

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nigesakis · 7 months ago

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In light of the Graham Gore book (The Ministry of Time) coming out on May 7th and a show adaption already greenlit, I think it's important to talk about the fact its about the historical Gore, not the AMC character. As far as I know, the author first was a Terror fan and then picked interest by seeing historical Gore's portrait, and then got into the historical information (and you probably couldn't write a whole book about the AMC character anyway, considering the little screentime). So, it's not a Terror fanfiction, but a book involving RP fanfiction.

Anyway, what I wanna talk about is that The Terror fandom, me included, has a problem with mixing the historical and fictional sides. The Terror is a work of fiction, the characters' personalities and their actions are fictional.

Especially Fitzjames, who is as fictional as Hickey is. He's mostly based on Battersby's "research", which we now know includes a lot of bullshit (the Barrow scandal apparently did not happen, for example). @jamesfitzjamesdotcom can probably tell you more about that than I can.

So, the thing is, if you wanted to write a book about Fitzjames, about Francis, Fitzier, Goodsir or basically any other character with screentime, and then say it's about the historical persons, you could not do it if your interest and knowledge is majorly based on or fueled by The Terror.

You couldn't mix AMC James and historical James together, because they are two different people. If you write about Fitzier with their characterisations from the show, you couldn't call it historical Fitzier; it'd be like writing Destiel and then saying it's Drarry. Or some other ship that has barely any canon content, because if you look at historical Fitzier, there's no Fitzier. Like writing about Bungo Stray Dogs and then saying its about historical Ozamu Dazai just 'cause they use his name and some character traits.

It's one thing to take historical lore and use it for The Terror fanfiction or headcanons. But you can't look at historical Fitzjames or other crew members and extend their AMC/Simmons counterparts onto them.

The Terror is an amazing show in itself, but it's not a biopic or historical show like HBO War is, for example. It's not a show that tries to represent the real people as they were, the expedition as it was, it's a work of fiction inspired by real events, subjectively interpreted and then fictionalised. So if you're interested in the real events, you can't just watch or read The Terror, because it doesn't represent them. It doesn't represent the people.

This fandom, again me included, needs to be more conscious of that when talking about the historical people and events.

Especially now, because the Gore book will most likely attract more people to watch/read The Terror and get into the Franklin Expedition. So it's important that when they get here, there's a clear, or at least clearer, cut between The Terror and the real history.

For example, not tagging historical FE content with "The Terror/The Terror AMC/terrorposting" (since the historical Terror would be HMS Terror it'd be a difference) is a start. Tagging the show/book content clearly with "Simmons/AMC/2018" somewhere, and not with "Franklin Expedition", is another way.

#obviously tagging both sides for this one #the terror amc #the terror #franklin expedition #james fitzjames #francis crozier #fitzier #history #fiction #text #research #graham gore #📰

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ofmdrecaps · 2 months ago

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09/10-17/2024 Daily OFMD Recap Pt 1

Hey all. Sorry about the format, and I even said this was coming yesterday and then some crazy shit happened ONCE AGAIN because life is crazy like that. Please bare with me as I get the different parts out -- and please let me know if I missed anything major!

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Kristian Nairn; Vico Ortiz; Con O'Neill; +

Part 2 / Part 3

== David Jenkins ==

David has been at it again, making us cry even more with admiration of our beloved Captain.

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

And David reached out regarding the other trailer drop anniversary!

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

Coming up in another section for Taika in part 2, as we know whenever Taika goes to any event, someone complains about him, so David sent a very sweet reminder about him (although the second one, I'm not sure if he's calling Taika old or not lol).

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

And just in case you weren't tearing up from Chaos Dad's kind words, he has some for the fans too.

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

And just a friendly reminder that fanfiction CAN help you go places. (Lincodega now works as a writing assistent for IWTV)

Source: David Jenkins' Twitter

== Rhys Darby ==

In related but news, Rhys did a cameo for Kitten Rescue LA! They constantly get so many kittens in that they can't take care of. This is a really sweet video of him endorsing, but as mentioned below, there's a CW you should be aware of.

CW: Mention of Pet Euthanasia

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kitten Rescue LA (@kittenrescuela)

instagram

Rhys is also giving us more Substack Content previews-- this time of Bill Napier from Short Poppies <3 Wanna subscribe to his substack? Check it out here!

Source: Rhys Instagram

Rhys has announced on his substack (the non-paid content) that he'll be touring next year!

Source: Rhys' Substack

If that isn't enough Rhys for you-- good news! He'll be in Los Angelos at the Largo at the Coronet at 8 PM on October 1! Get tickets here! (Special thanks to Sara for pointing this out!)

Source: Largo LA (found via Sara aka chaoticmulaney on Twitter)

== Kristian Nairn ==

Kristian's book has arrived at his house! He did an unboxing video for everyone to check out! Only a week or so left til release!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kristian Nairn (@kristiannairn)

instagram

Oh, Kristian mentioned he was going to be getting a tattoo while and Portland, and hey look, it's Kristian's New Tattoo!

Source: Kristian's Instagram

Need more of Kristian? Well look no further, he's got a new DJ Appearance happening Oct 4, 2024 at the Ministry of Sound Club in London!

Source: Kristian's Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

So much news for Vico! First and foremost, Vico was voted a Fan Favorite Out LGBTQ+ Actor in the Autostraddle TV Awards!

Source: AutoStraddle TV Awards

Vico also has some exciting things coming up-- they mentioned an upcoming Momentus Event on their Patreon (free version)!

Source: Vico's Patreon

Looks like Momentus is excited ...and dropping hints!

Source: Be Momuntus Twitter

Vico also had some more pics from Rose City Comic Con they wanted to share--

Source: Vico's Instagram

Vico did some amazing work for Elder Scrolls Online and is seeing some love coming down the pipeline-- they have some BTS up for it on their Patreon if you're interested!

Oh I almost forgot to mention, Vico was featured on Dimelo Season 2 Episode one!

youtube

== Con O'Neill ==

Con's new short film, "The Men" is FINALLY coming out on October 25 at the AlnwickPlayhouse! Our friends over at @adoptourcrew were kind enough to let our UK Crew know where and when they could catch it before the rest of the world! Get tickets here!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Instagram

Continued in Part 2!

#daily ofmd recap #david jenkins #rhys darby #kitten rescue la #vico ortiz #kristian nairn #beyond the thrown #ofmd #ofmd daily recap #Instagram #crew 4 life #long live ofmd #save ofmd #adopt our crew #con o'neill #chaos dad #pirate daddy

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hollowed-theory-hall · 3 days ago

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Did you ever write a meta about the First Wizarding War?

I am just so curious about it, although we know almost nothing of it. I know in fanfictions, people tend to make the war something very open, very active, with the Order fighting the Death Eaters in the streets but it feels... off to me?

Like, first of all, how would they know when the DE attack? By the time they would learn about the attack, it's most likely the DE would already have left. And overall, when you read about the 2nd Wizarding War, they never attack place like Diallon Alley or Hogsmeade, but rather kidnap people like Ollivander and Fortescue. Which make me wonder how Voldemort was able to ask teens James and Lily to join him (like said in JK's interview).

When you read what Arthur said about this war:

"You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed. The terror it inspired… you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside… Everyone's worst fear… the very worst."

Well, it sounds more like they would attack people at their home, so the DE are more likely to target people when they attack, while they would cause havrock in the Muggle world. Something that made sense since they don't want to destroy the Wizarding World and the wizards.

Although to be fair, it's not like they have much place to attack in the Wizarding world: the only place we know are Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley and the Ministry.

I just have a hard time imagining how the war would be like, considering the Ministry was not taken by Voldemort. It's like this world is too small for a war of that kind.

Also, it makes me wonder what was really the role of the Order? Like what did they do? What kind of mission would they do? How would they know when to intervene? I know Remus had missions with werewolf during the 2nd war, but we don't know if he had the same during the 1st. Sirius was away busy with a mission during Harry's first birthday, but I wonder what he was doing. Was it a last minute battle?

"No, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having purebloods in charge. They weren’t alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things… They got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first.”

It's implied people actually thought Voldemort had the right ideas, which makes me wonder if back then, the muggleborns were less accepted. What was the climate that made it happen? Was it that a bit like with jews, which is how Hitler got to powers?

Also the line in bold always interested me because it didn't feel like the Blacks knew about the Horcruxes, so I wonder what else would give them cold feet.

Sorry for the long text, I just never found someone to talk about it. Nobody seems to get me when I try to think too much about how it was like lol

Hello 👋

Honestly, this is really interesting and I have written about the first war as part of my Voldemort analysis here and here and also here and here. And I'm honestly really curious about the timeline of the first war and what exactly the Order and the DE actually did.

I would say you're right about it not being a war. I mean, for a war, you need armies and countries, and there wasn't a single army involved in this war.

The DE are somewhere between a cult and a terrorist organization. In the first war (and in the second one while Voldemort manages them, tbh) their operations are limited to more targeted killings and in general spreading fear and chaos while keeping a not-super-high death tool (in the first war) and avoiding hurting muggles when possible. Like, up until 1979, basically no one died. We have less than 10 unnamed and named characters that might've died before that and the rest died afterwards. Like, almost all deaths happened in the final 3 years of the war.

Then you have the ministry, which doesn't have an army, it has law enforcement. The aurors and DMLE are not an army and don't really function as one. They are trained to catch criminals, not to fight large-scale battles (not that there were any battles in the first war).

The Order, which if we're generous we can call a paramilitary group (but realistically it's a vigilante armed civilian group).

So, it's hardly a war when it's small-scale attacks and skirmishes fought between a cult/terrorist organization, the police, and an armed civilian group. Its timeline and death tool and how it operates as a whole really doesn't fit a war. Well, it's a terror guerilla sort of war, but not your traditional kind of war. The second Voldemort war was more of a real war than the first one, and even that wasn't a traditional war in any sense and I would hardly call it one. But at least it had battles. Like 2.5 of them.

I outlined more of the timeline here with the evidence for it, but in general:

1967ish - Voldemort returns to the UK and has his interview with Dumbledore. At this point, he already has somewhat of a following. Unclear if these were his "friends" from school or their children, but they are likely the older "friends" from school:

“Then if I were to go to the Hog’s Head tonight, I would not find a group of them — Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, Dolohov — awaiting your return? Devoted friends indeed, to travel this far with you on a snowy night, merely to wish you luck as you attempted to secure a teaching post.”

(HBP)

1970 - the war starts.

“You can’t blame them,” said Dumbledore gently. “We’ve had precious little to celebrate for eleven years.”

(PS)

Since Dumbledore says this on November 1981, it means the DE started operating in late 1970. Arthur tells us Death Eaters outnumbered the Order 20 to 1, but I think the Order only started operating later in the decade.

I believe that in the early 70s, they weren't too violent yet. There were some attacks, some chaos similar to what we see in the World Cup perhaps:

I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn’t resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them,” he finished disgustedly.

(GoF)

Attacks that strawn fear and unrest and stretched the ministry and the DMLE thin with how many obliviations had to be done — but no one died, not yet. At least, no one important. We know all of the Order members that died were only killed after the infamous photo was taken much later, so it seems in these early days of the war, they didn't really kill anyone perhaps a few muggles here and there (but not as many as the fandom sometimes like to think!) but no wizards died, at least not at first.

I assume this period is mostly marked by small-ish riots and growing normalization of anti-muggle and anti-muggleborn propaganda.

This is the point where Voldemort amassed his followers and purebloods like Walburga and Orion Black thought he had the right idea. Even during the time in the books, muggles are seen as beneath wizards, and muggleborns like Hermione are quietly pressured into not talking about their muggle families because no one cares. Muggleborns like Hermione and Ted Tonks clearly leave their muggle families behind and don't look back and that's accepted as the norm in the wizarding world.

Even in the 90s we see Slughorn is surprised Hermione, the muggleborn, is so talented. Bigotry is still very much present and as I calculated here, muggleborns are only around 5% of the population, with the majority being purebloods (or wizard-raised half-bloods). The blood purity agenda was always there, Voldemort didn't even believe in it himself, he just used it because it was an easily accessible platform that was just there. It was an easy way to gain followers and create unrest, so he took it. It was opportunistic.

So, in that way, yes, it is similar to Nazi Germany. Antisemitism was already there and prevalent in the culture for centuries, Hitler made use of the ideology already present and normalized it, and even made it righteous to believe in his horrid and bigoted ideology. He pushed the culture to more extremes, but the ideas and philosophies were already there, he didn't invent antisemitism in Germany. It was opportunistic. It didn't come out of nowhere and it wasn't just recent either. Antisemitism has a long history in Europe which I'm not going to go into in this post.

1975 - the war gets more violent and wizards are actually killed. We know from Pottermore that:

Eugenia Jenkins 1968 - 1975 Jenkins dealt competently with pure-blood riots during Squib Rights marches in the late sixties, but was soon confronted with the first rise of Lord Voldemort. Jenkins was soon ousted from office as inadequate to the challenge.

(From Pottermore)

It's said Jenkins was ousted from office "soon" after the rise of Voldemort, which again, suggests the more violent attacks only started mid-70s, around 1974 and 1975. From the list of deaths in the post I already linked throughout this post I posed the deaths that ousted her from office were Mr. and Mrs. Bones who we don't have a death date for and were likely important enough in the magical community to send the shockwaves of war that would get the minister kicked out of office. After all, you need something big to rock the wizarding community, a few muggle deaths aren't going to cut it.

(Also the mention of pure-blood riots earlier in the 60s show blood purity was nothing new, just something Voldemort took advantage of that was already there)

This is the point where Walburga and Orion probably got the cold feet Sirius mentioned. Because it's not just muggles and muggleborns anymore. Two pureblood wizards were killed — and that scared the shit out of purebloods who were a little smarter. The realization Voldemort would kill them too if he thought it necessary. It's not that they grew to care about muggleborns or blood traitors, it was self-interest. They realized that Voldemort didn't have any limits and that they weren't safe just because their blood was pure. That's at least, my take on it.

1976 - The Order of the Pheonix is founded

The Order of the Phoenix was likely founded around 1976-1977 after Voldemort and the DE got more violent and a few people actually died and it became clear to Dumbledore the ministry couldn't handle it on their own.

I believe the Order was kinda late to the party (considering how late Dumbledore was when dealing with Grindlewald). I think he advised the ministry on what to do and really hoped the ministry and the DMLE could resolve it at first. When it appeared they couldn't, that's when he founded the Order.

Now, you're right, the first war doesn't seem to have had any actual battles, my guess is that is was as I mentioned above — targeted attacks and skirmishes.

During the first war, Voldemort holds a pretty tight leash on his Death Eaters and who they kill. That's why they kill at homes and kill only specific ministry personnel and Order members for the most part. It's very targeted and specific. They aren't rounding up muggleborns as Lupin says these laws were new in the second war:

“People won’t let this happen,” said Ron. “It is happening, Ron,’; said Lupin. “Muggle-borns are being rounded up as we speak.”

(DH)

This is only in the second war. In the first one, there was no muggleborn registry or compulsive attendance at Hogwarts. The first war was all targeted terror attacks. The DE didn't have the ministry the way they did in the second one. Yes, they had quite a few members in the ministry who probably tried to pass various laws, but it wasn't the complete control they had in 1997-1998.

I assume, what the Order did in these years, was try to gain intelligence about where and when these attacks would happen so they could wait for the Death Eaters there. Again, sort of skirmish warfare and not quite open battles. Very few combatants were probably present for each of these fights.

Most of the Order missions would've been along the lines of:

Protecting expected DE targets

Recon missions and gaining intelligence through various means

Blocking DE in the ministry from getting the intel they are after or passing their laws.

Stuff that is more targeted and doesn't require a full-scale army.

1980 - The Prophecy and Potters going into hiding

(Edit: More notes regarding the timing of the photo and corrections to this section here. James and Lily went into hiding in the winter of 1980, but the Order's photo was taken while James and Lily were in hiding in July 1981, meaning all the Order members died in the 4 months between Harry's birthday and the end of the war)

The prophecy was made about two months before Harry was born:

He stepped forward. Not as tall as Ron, he had to crane his neck to read the yellowish label affixed to the shelf right beneath the dusty glass ball. In spidery writing was written a date of some sixteen years previously, and below that: S. P. T. to A. P. W. B. D. Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter

(OotP)

We also know from Harry's birthdate that Lily would've gotten pregnant with him around late October 1979. Due to how the Fidelius Charm works I believe the Potters went into hiding before Harry was born, right after the Prophecy was made, so around May 1980. All this means the photo Moody shows Harry was taken at some point in 1979 or early 1980 before Lily's stomach was showing with the pregnancy, but I'm leaning towards late 1979.

This means that almost all deaths in the war (and all the deaths of the Order) happened after 1979. This was probably caused by two things:

Voldemort escalating for some reason (after 1980 the prophecy might've had a hand in the escalation of violence for various reasons I discussed in the linked posts)

Wormtail started spying mid-1980:

“DON’T LIE!” bellowed Black. “YOU’D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!”

(PoA)

So it's possible Wormtail revealed exactly where and when the Order was waiting for the DE and the DE could get the jump on them with more wizards than the Order thought there would be.

These two combined factors practically wiped out most of the first Order.

But we're still talking about skirmishes, just larger ones with a higher death tool, but still no large-scale battles like the Battle of Hogwarts. Enlisting the giants wasn't really because Voldemort used them in the war, there were no battles to use them in. They were a threat, kinda like nukes. It was something you have so your enemies won't attack you. Werewolves were similar, although they were probably employed in some of the skirmishes.

This time period since 1979 is probably when this quote from Sirius becomes the case:

“Imagine that Voldemort’s powerful now. You don’t know who his supporters are, you don’t know who’s working for him and who isn’t; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You’re scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing . . . the Ministry of Magic’s in disarray, they don’t know what to do, they’re trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere . . . panic . . . confusion . . . that’s how it used to be.

(GoF)

More wizards are now being killed/targeted. Most of them probably get tortured/imprisoned rather than killed. Like Neville says about the Carrows:

“Doesn’t matter. They don’t want to spill too much pure blood, so they’ll torture us a bit if we’re mouthy but they won’t actually kill us.”

(DH)

These are terror attacks meant to create compliance. So most are tortured, kidnapped as ransom and assurance of loyalty, or imperious rather than killed. Those that are killed would only be those that really have no hope to turn them onside — like the Order, hence why Voldemort allowed them to be killed.

1980 - The added deaths and skirmishes caused another minister to be kicked out of office:

Harold Minchum 1975 - 1980 Seen as a hard-liner, he placed even more Dementors around Azkaban, but was unable to contain what looked like Voldemort’s unstoppable rise to power.

(From Pottermore)

As I mentioned, in the final years of the war, shit got way worse with more deaths happening in the span of these 3 years than all the 8 years of "war" before combined. So another minister who doesn't know how to crack down on the terror organization is kicked out.

October 1981 - Voldemort goes after the Potters and the war ends.

And we know what happens from here.

These are my thoughts about the timeline of the first war and how it went. We don't know as much about it as I would've liked to know, but this is my impression of how it went down more or less.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #asks #hollowedtheory #harry potter meta #wizarding world #wizarding society #first wizarding war #voldemort #lord Voldemort #death eaters #the order of the phoenix #ironhoeman

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dawnstudies · 5 months ago

Text

Some HC's for Harry Potter - Weasley family (can you blame me? I love them)

Ginny was usually the manliest among all the Weasleys and had a hardcore tomboy phase during her fifth year in Hogwarts, however one thing that she absolutely adored which is usually found "girly" was flowers. All sorts of flowers. They were just so colourful and beautiful and that's where her relationship with Luna came from. They both loved flowers. Exotic flowers. That's why Ginny also loved gardening.

After the war, George wasn't sure how to run the shop alone - obviously, even before Fred died the two barely understood the "managing" and complicated "paperwork" part of it - so a reconnecting part for him and Percy was when Percy showed up one day to offer him help with managing the shop. With Percy's knowledge of law George got things sorted easily.

When Fred & George were first opening their shop, Percy helped them sort out the paperwork, and when the two asked why exactly he would help out of all people, Percy straight out admitted that he thought the idea was "brilliant" and "badass" (George almost passed out from shock when he heard his brother swear like that).

Law actually caught Ron's interest too and even after he quit as an auror and went to George's shop to help, he still kept it as a hobby and gave a hand to George every time Percy couldn't; after a while Ron decided to go to Law College and got a degree.

By the way, I'm really thinking about making a fanfiction based on an AU I was thinking about, where Percy would become a doctor at St Mungo's (a fanfiction including that HC is already finished and on my Wattpad account), Arthur being a psychologist instead of a ministry worker, Ronald becoming a lawyer and it would basically include a lot of fluff and angst. My favourites :)

What do you guys think? Would it be a good idea?

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you-need-namjesus · 4 months ago

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Hey, guys. Sorry if I don't explain things well. I usually just read fanfictions on tumblr. Never thought I'll ever have to post here. But I have come here today for my country and fellow Bangladeshi students.

I am currently hospitilized. I got sprayed with tear gas thrown by the cops. My skin feels like falling off and my nostrils burn like hell. Every breath I take comes with agony. However, that issue is miniscule because my country might fall into a civil war and I urge you to spread the word. I was hoping you could help us reach an international audience cuz our media is monopolised by the corrupt state.

Our corrupt government has unleashed their goons and policemen to brutalise our peaceful student protesters. Numerous are injured and many have lost their lives.

Context: public jobs and admission in public universities are highly coveted and respected in Bangladesh. Therefore, students study for year to get a place in these public sectors. Bangladesh was liberated in 1971 and the freedom fighters were granted reserved seats in all important sectors and educational institution. Which made sense at that time, because the fighters took a hard hit during the war and they needed help from the government to get back on their feet. However, 50 years later, their descendants still have access to these seats and it's taking away chances from hardworking talented individuals. 56% of the seats are reserved. Most workers in ministries and parliament are freedom fighters. If not, they are sons and daughters of a freedom fighter. What I'm trying to say is that, they no longer need these reserved seats. The amount of wealth and stability they have is something an average Bangladeshi could only ever dream of. Unless your grandad went to war 50 years ago, you could not even dream to touch it. This is unfair to the unemployed talented youth of Bangladesh.

We started a peaceful protest. However, we are being brutalised for speaking out against this unfair system. All the universities and other educational institution in Bangladesh have pretty much declared war against the government. However, our local medias are useless because they are heavily monitored by the government. Please help us and spread our news.

Student dorms are being bombed and raided. They are being shot at with bullets, granades and tear gas. 6 young men already lost their lives. Thousands are injured.

You can understand our situation better from this yt video

https://youtu.be/rGSHWIoTNL4?si=3EE6WcOhsE4UfwmR

#bangladesh #student #university #quota #justice #news #movement #protest #dhaka

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cuffmeinblack · 1 year ago

Note

I have played Hogwarts Legacy at least 3 times now and I have to say... I wish I understood the appeal to Garreth. Why are people so obsessed with him?? 😂 I totally get Sebastian and Ominis... but Garreth hardly has any action in the game at all.

The wonderful world of fanfiction.

I have a character profile for my version of Garreth. I've taken the crumbs they gave us and made a cake and it is delicious.

Like his fuckin' face. Gorgeous.

Also his voice does things to me.

Dumped my random notes for him under the read more.

Education, skills

Highly skilled in Potions

Highly skilled in Herbology (assumed)

Apparition

Preference for practical magic e.g. Transfiguration, Charms, DADA

Can also assume that whilst Garreth is a talented wizard, he often lets his education fall by the wayside in favour of his passion for brewing experimental potions and beverages.

Career

Entrepreneur/business owner - potions/magical drinks

Potioneer - experimental potions

Scope for him to have a career related to healing or ministry work (likely he wouldn’t find this interesting).

Garreth would prefer to be able to carry on his experimentation in whatever capacity.

Whilst he is interested in magical drinks during school, this could develop into something more serious as he grows older. Much like F&G start to use their skills in aiding the war e.g. protective clothing, peruvian darkness powder, Garreth could turn his potions expertise to more 'worthwhile' problems.

Personality traits

Inquisitive

Since he knew about the One-eyed-witch passage to Honeydukes we can assume he is inquisitive and possibly a bit of a troublemaker.

Entrepreneurial, creative, passionate

He enjoys experimenting with brewing potions and drinks, often using his family and younger students to test out his concoctions on.

Playful, confident, outgoing

We see this side of him during his time at Hogwarts. Upon meeting Gryffindor MC he is friendly and forthcoming.

Family-oriented

Comes from a large family, assumed Weasley-family trait.

Brave, courageous

Gryffindor traits (assumed)

Chivalrous, honourable

Gryffindor traits (assumed)

Particularly with his partner, he is kind and attentive.

#garreth weasley #weasley is our king #don't ask me about Garreth i won't shutup

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gyattoru · 2 months ago

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the apparition - hogwarts legacy fanfic (s.s)

title inspired on the apparition by sleep token

• chapter one - the dire journey

summary: After arduous magic lessons during the summer, it’s finally time for Fig to escort the twins to Hogwarts for the new beginning of term in the school, but a sudden twist of events turn the journey for the worst.

cw: 5,5k words, MENTIONS OF DEATH, hogwarts legacy fanfiction, female MC, sebastian sallow x female!MC, poppy sweeting x male!MC, muggle raised MCs, eventual pining & romance, eventual fluff & angst, minimal lore alterations, dialogue alterations, added events, sebastian sallow x seer!MC, will definitely add more as the chapters go on.

a/n: thank you all for the support on the prologue!! now the fun is really getting started 😉 enjoy!

- xxx lola

prologue - one - two

Something was different this time.

It was the roar of an animal, but it was loud, louder than Ellise’s usual dream, reverberating in her brain. She saw a red glow of magic but couldn’t figure out where it came from.

She knew something was wrong, in her gut there was a feeling she couldn’t figure out, but she was certain of one thing - this was not a mere dream.

A strong jaw with big, terrifying sets of teeth closed on her.

Aiden’s eyes snapped towards Ellise as she awoke with a start, the usual now. She must’ve fallen asleep at some point during the carriage ride, the steady flying of the vehicle rocking her into a light slumber.

She was glad she didn’t accidentally lay her head on their sudden acquaintance’s shoulder, George Osric. The high-ranking Ministry of Magic official surprised them, asking to accompany them on the journey with “urgent matters” to discuss with Fig.

He sat beside Ellise, opposite her brother and her professor, they talked about the newest journal rumour - sources mentioned a goblin, Ranrok, posing as a looming threat to the wizarding world.

“It was your wife, Eleazar, who alerted me to his activities months ago.” George said softly as Fig’s brows wound tight together.

“Miriam? How?” The professor questioned.

“She wrote to me about Ranrok before she died - wondering what the Ministry knew of the extent of his activities” George sighed “Before I could respond. I received this. It was the last thing she sent me.”

The official grabbed a cylinder-shaped container from his bag. As Aiden looked out the window, Ellise studied the mysterious object residing in George’s hands. It had a stonish-esque pattern on its exterior and the intricate pattern carved into its front resembled an intricate swirling flame.

“It came to me via her owl.” He continued “But with no correspondence, I can only assume-“

“-That she had to get rid of it quickly to keep it safe.” Fig cut him off, grabbing the artefact to look closely at it.

“Presumably from Ranrok.” George commented “I cannot open it. Whatever magic protects this is powerful indeed.”

“It looks like goblin metal, George.” Eleazar inspected “That symbol-“

“What’s that glow?” Ellise interrupted, piquing her brother’s interest, who also stopped to take a look at the artefact.

“I don’t see a glow.” Fig said, confused.

“Nor do I.” George agreed.

The professor then passed the cylinder onto Ellise’s hands, she noted it wasn’t as heavy as she thought it would be and the metal felt cold and sturdy.

“I see the glow too.” Aiden commented, “I can hear a sound coming from it.”

Suddenly, a click was heard and the small frontal opening of the artefact was unlatched, revealing an intricate key posing of the same design which was carved onto the cylinder.

“Merlin’s beard! How did you do that?” George asked surprised.

Ellise reached for the key inside the container, just to be stopped by her professor’s word of caution.

“Wait! We do not know what-“

A roar of an animal.

Everything happened quickly, too quickly. Aiden’s head snapped to the side as he saw something approaching from the corner of his eye.

“Leesie, look out!” He pulled his sister towards him without even thinking twice, just fast enough to avoid her being taken along with George as a dragon gnawed on their half of the carriage, breaking it off and dragging the man away.

One of her legs dangled from the new sudden opening made into the carriage as her brother held onto her as tight as he could, preventing her from falling like the artefact that fell from her hands towards the clouds that painted the morning sky. They watched with horror as the dragon held the other half of the vehicle in his mouth, suddenly chomping down on it, crumbling all its remains and, consequently, George.

Ellise turned her head over to the front of the carriage and saw the coachman urging the now visible thestrals forward as he tried to get them away from the angry winged beast. Aiden saw the dragon open its mouth and a fiery glow burned in the back of its throat as he urged for them.

“Jump!” Fig yelled over the hiss of the wind as he pulled both of them forward, jumping off the carriage as the dragon spit fire towards it.

Falling.

They were falling at rapid speed as Fig swam across the air, trying to reach for the mysterious key which fell out of the cylinder container, the twins held tight onto each other, the icy wind feeling like blades cutting their faces.

“Give me your hand!” Fig warned Aiden, who tightened his hold on his sister with one arm and held onto the professor with the other. “Accio!” The key flew towards Eleazar’s hand.

Nausea.

Ellise hit the solid ground with a thud, pain shooting from her side. Her brother quickly got up, anxiously scanning their surroundings, it seemed as if they were in some sort of cave.

“Are you both alright?” Fig asked worriedly as he got up as well “You’re hurt Miss Villin.”

“Perhaps a bit.” The girl said as her brother's worried gaze found her once again. “I must’ve hurt my leg in the fall.”

“Take this. It's a Wiggenweld potion.” The professor said as he uncorked and handed the girl a vial with a green liquid in it. “That stuff’ll right you in a second.”

Unfortunately, Ellise sniffed the potion before drinking it, the smell reeking of mucus mixed with a berry-ish scent, which only worsened her nausea from the sudden Apparating trip. Without thinking too much, she downed the contents of the vial in one big gulp, fortunately feeling immediate pain relief.

“What happened?” Aiden asked as he helped his sister get up from the floor, keeping close by in case she toppled and fell over.

“Poor George- I can’t believe he-“ Fig sighed, one of his hands brushing through his dishevelled ash hair. “What the hell got into that damned thing?! Attacking a carriage mid-air? A typical dragon would never!”

“Professor?” Aiden questioned “Sir- Where are we?”

“I’m not sure, but that key Ellise discovered was clearly a Portkey.”

“A Portkey?” Ellise asked, confused.

“An item enchanted to bring anyone who touches it to a specific place.” The professor explained.

“I’m feeling better, sir- If you’d like us to look around a bit.” Ellise said, the pain in her leg had immensely subdued and she felt as if she could certainly walk normally now.

“I would, but stay close, both of you.” He urged them forward, towards the opening of the cave “We’ve no idea who created this Portkey- or why.”

Aiden kept close beside Ellise as she followed Fig out of the mysterious cave, which led to a bright open area, it seemed the hole was on the side of an island and miles of sea were all that could be seen besides-

Abandoned ruins. Just like the ones in Ellise’s dream. She couldn’t help but question what in the world was going on, why did she dream about these things countless times before?

“How far did that Portkey take us, professor?” She questioned, shielding her eyes from the rapid wind that blew her hair.

“Farther from London than the carriage travelled.” He asserted “We’re somewhere in the Scottish Highlands.”

“Do you think we were supposed to be sent to those ruins up ahead?” Aiden pointed, catching Fig’s attention.

“I do.” Fig asserted “This has not been the day any of us expected. But Miriam sent that Portkey to George for a reason, and I believe they died in pursuit of what it was meant to lead to.” He paused, both twins listening intently to his words.

“If you both are sure you’re alright and wouldn’t mind indulging me- I’d like to have a look around.”

Aiden eyed Ellise carefully, he figured it’d be best for her to choose since she was the one hurt in the first place. She met his eye with understanding and gave him a small nod.

“Absolutely, sir.”

“Good!” He didn’t hide his excitement “Let’s see if we can find a path- however faded it may be.”

Along the mountain's edge, Ellise minded her step not to trip in their rigged path. The wind bled through her coat, making her shiver slightly.

“Where do you suppose your wife got the Portkey?” Aiden asked, both of them walked just ahead of her, engaged in conversation.

They soon found out Miriam spent years looking for signs of another form of magic, a rather ancient one which was long forgotten since its prime. This magic could only be wielded by a rare few people, who seemed to have been lost to time. Eleazar presumed his wife’s research led her to the Portkey, which certainly played a big part in it.

The path flowed downwards and upwards, leading them to do some climbing and jumping, which was something none of them imagined would be required today.

They reached a dead end, a wall which looked as if made of ice blocking them from pushing forward. The professor saw it as a learning opportunity- as he saw most things -and told them to use the, in Ellise’s opinion, overly practised, basic wand cast to break the wall. That task was no hard feat for the twins, who quickly brought down the wall and kept going forward once again.

“We’re close now.” Fig encouraged “It’s just ahead.”

As they reached a fully open area, the wind seemed stronger than before, the twins having to steady themselves to not be blown away. The bridge that led to the ruins seemed to be broken, but it was fixed with a quick ‘Reparo’ from Fig himself. Finally, they had reached the ruins, each of them going off in one direction to find clues about the creator of the Portkey quickly.

“Lessie! Professor Fig!” Aiden called from the back of the ruins

As she arrived, the girl saw a weirdly transparent wall, which seemed to have a room behind it, the same glow from the cylinder container emanating from it. They got closer to it.

“An enchanted wall?” Ellise questioned, “But what’s that room behind it?”

“Room? What room?” Fig asked, confused.

They all exchanged sceptical looks before reaching out to the wall, as they came in contact with it their surroundings seemed to change, they were now inside the mysterious room.

“What in Merlin’s name?!” Fig exclaimed.

“Where are we?” Aiden asked.

To say they were tired of being suddenly teleported was an understatement, this was enough teletransportation for their whole year already. They seemed to be in some sort of lobby, a snoring figure lying down at some sort of reception desk.

“Hello?” Ellise said as she carefully approached the desk. The figure didn’t bulge, Fig cleared his throat in an attempt to wake it.

The figure awoke with a startled yell, now the twins could make out that it was a goblin given his pointy ears and black sclera eyes, his nose was big and round and his nails were as long as they could be grown out. He blinked, confused, and suddenly his eyes popped out at the sight of the people in front of his desk.

“It can’t be.” He exclaimed, Fig and his students just looked at him with arched eyebrows “Ah, just a moment.”

The goblin turned around as he mumbled to himself, getting down from the place he sat in to go around the tall desk.

“Welcome to Gringotts Wizarding Bank.” He said with a bow “Vault number twelve, I presume?”

Ellise looked around the fancy lobby once more, Gringotts? Why would they be in a bank?

“Precisely.” Fig disguised his confusion quickly.

“The key?” The goblin said as he presented his hand, waiting for the item to be given to him. The professor just looked at him, confused once more.

“Your wife’s Portkey.” Aiden whispered as he nudged the man.

“Yes, of course” Fig took the key out of his pocket, placing it in the goblin’s big hand.

“This way then.”

They followed the goblin towards what looked like a train platform that had wide rails in front of it, the creature whistled a tune and a cart came quickly, stopping with a half right in front of the group.

“After you.” The goblin signalled for them to sit down.

Aiden would’ve rathered Apparating a million times before having to ride this hellish cart again. As he focused on the path ahead to not throw up his breakfast, Ellise admired the length of the tunnels of the bank, the cart bringing them lower and lower into the ground as the minutes passed, it tossed and turned and she noticed her brother was more pale than usual, the water from the waterfall that cleanses enchantments only making his sickness worsen as his clothes were clinging onto him.

The goblin explained how the vault was commissioned shortly after Gringotts was founded, so it resided in the lowest part of the bank, a long ride ahead of them.

After quite some time, the cart stopped to a halt after a goblin security guard on a platform signalled for them to break.

“Vault number?” His voice was deep and dry, the group could tell he wasn’t as nice as the goblin that was guiding them.

“Vault twelve!” The nice goblin answered “Momentous day!”

The guard goblin groaned.

“On your way.”

As he signalled the path ahead with his long hand, Ellise, who was right in front of him, noticed he had a band on his arm which had the same red glow of the collar the dragon that attacked them wore, she eyed their professor apprehensively as the cart took off again, to Aiden’s displeasure. The girl quietly nudged Fig, who questioned her with a soft hum, she quietly told him about the glow of the band.

“Like the glow you saw on the Portkey container?” He asked

“No, darker. I saw that glow on the dragon’s collar.” She whispered, worried.

“What was that?” The nice goblin interrupted them, Fig asked about the guard.

The goblin told them that the grumpy guard watched over the eldest section of the bank, but rarely anyone went there anymore. Ellise and Aiden looked at themselves over the cart with an alarmed gaze.

With a few more tosses and turns, the cart came to a final stop, and Aiden already took it as a prize that he managed to keep the contents of his stomach on the inside. They got up from their seats and followed the goblin towards on single door on the furthest wall in front of the rails.

The goblin grabbed the key from his pocket and inserted it into the keyhole of the heavy metal door, he turned it and the heavy metal locks groaned and they unlocked themselves. The goblin stood aside to let them get through the now-opened passage, and the group thanked him as they stepped into a short candle-lit stone hallway.

“What do you suppose we should be looking for?” Ellise asked as she looked around their new surroundings.

“I’m not sure.” Fig said as he turned towards the goblin who was now standing in the doorway “Sir, I wonder if you might-”

“The instructions for vault twelve indicate that I am to grant access to the holder of the key - and then close the door.” He said with a smile, signalling with his hand and, in a swift motion, locking them in the room. “Best of luck!”

“Great.” Aiden complained “Professor?”

Fig didn’t hide his surprise, they certainly weren’t expecting to be locked in an unknown vault for God knows how long.

“Revelio might help us here.” The professor rubbed his chin “A revealing charm, no time like the present, ready your wands.”

They both raised their second-hand wands and copied Fig as he showed them the movement of the spell. As they cast revelio, a door appeared on the other end of the small hallway, it had the same blue glow as the container of the Portkey and they got closer to inspect it.

As the twins touched the door, the corridor around them vanished and they found themselves in a vast, dark room.

White flashes of light

That’s all Ellise and Aiden had seen for the past 30 minutes, which felt more like hours of their lives. They had to battle knights, a safety matter, the boy presumed, and amidst the chaos they lost their professor, having to battle on their own.

Short of breath, they crossed a portal that led to a room full of grandeur with a basin in the middle of it. If the day hadn't already been weird enough, there was a small vial floating above said basin, they approached it and Ellise reached for the weird container and took it. The door at the far end of the room opened and luckily Fig was just behind it, looking confused.

“There you are!” Fig looked around the room “How did you-? What is this place?”

“I don’t know.” Ellise sighed as they approached him “But we found this floating above that basin.” She showed him the vial.

Professor Fig took a closer look at the said basin curiously “That is no mere ‘basin’. That is a Pensieve - for viewing memories.”

Ellise handed the vial to him and he opened it “I wonder-“ He tipped the container over the basin, a glowing liquid falling from it swiftly and making the water below it swirl with black.

“Follow my lead.” He put the upper half of his face in the murky water.

Ellise looked at her brother, confused, he just shrugged at her “I guess we have no choice.” He chuckled and dipped his head in as well. The girl took a deep breath and followed.

Ellise saw the room they were in, but it was like watching it from behind a foggy glass. A man resided in the middle, he looked a little past Fig’s age and swished his wand around as he finished building the room, the same blue glow the twins saw earlier enveloped the pillars he conjured. The girl noticed another man was on the other end of the room, seemingly helping with the room’s architecture, although he was quite shorter and fuller than the other man.

They approached each other close to the Pensieve “All is in place.” The shorter one said.

“The Portkey is well hidden?” The tall one questioned.

“Perhaps too well, I wonder if the path we created-“

“May be impossible to follow?” The tall wizard completed his mate's sentence ”It will only be impossible for one who cannot see traces of ancient magic - as I can.”

“Your ability to see what others cannot will not be enough, Percival.” Percival, that was the tall wizard’s name, Ellise made sure to keep it in mind as the memory unfolded. “We are entrusting the one who embarks on this path with powerful secrets - with knowledge others will do anything to obtain.”

“Yes, and if we are correct, Charles, the person who completes the trials will have proven themselves worthy of the knowledge and the responsibility that accompanies it.” Percival said, final.

“We’ve done all we can.” Charles agreed.

They both gazed at the far wall for a second. Then, Percival placed the tip of his wand to his temple as he pulled out the string of glowing magic that was poured onto the Pensieve.

The memory ended and they all pulled out their heads from the water of the basin. “That’s what you’re seeing?” Fig questioned “The glow that surrounded them?”

“Yes Sir.” Aiden answered “That blue glow.”

“Can we see magic?” Ellise asked, puzzled.

“Traces of ancient magic, to be precise. The magic that Miriam had always believed existed but could never-“ The professor trailed off “Miriam, and perhaps George, died in pursuit of knowledge that has been dormant for centuries - And you both, it seems, are the key to understanding why. We wou-“

They heard the voice from the nice goblin banker coming from the other side of the door, accompanied by heavy metal footsteps “It all looks rather different than it did a moment ago.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“Someone’s coming.” Fig warned, turning towards the door.

“Who were they?” A deep voice asked

“I don’t know - but sir, you shouldn’t be in here.” The nice goblin insisted.

The door opened, a red glow coming from the other side. Ranrok. He walked in front, a rookie and the grumpy guard beside him, the nice goblin followed frantically after them “I was right.” Ranrok said in a menacing tone.

“Ranrok.” Fig spat at him, anger evident in his voice.

“Seems my reputation precedes me. I was beginning to think no one was ever going to visit Rackham’s vault.”

“And why are you here?” The professor pulled out his wand, and the twins followed, pointing them at the goblin.

“No need for that.” He put out his hand urging them to stop “Just give me whatever it is you found here and we can let bygones be bygones.”

They all stared each other down with icy gazes, the nice goblin placed a long hand on Ranrok’s shoulder “Sir, they had the key to the vault.”

“Choose your next words wisely.” Ranrok warned as he side-eyed him.

“- I only meant that the instructions for vault twelve were quite clear.” He said carefully and fisted his hand to his sides “Sir, I must insist. I was to grant access only to one with the key. And you didn’t have-“

With a flash of red, Ranrok levitated the nice goblin banker with an angry grunt. He held him in the air for a second before descending him towards the ground with full force. The goblin’s spine snapped with an audible ‘crack’, making Ellise let out a trembling breath as her brother stepped a little bit more in front of her protectively.

“I have no patience for traitors.” The goblin said, his gaze snapping back to them “Now, where were we?”

“I’m not giving you anything.” Fig barked back at him.

Ranrok hummed, annoyed. “Well - Perhaps your young friends here will be more helpful.”

The professor’s wand lit up as he flickered as he sent a spell towards Ranrok, who blocked it effortlessly with his own which overpowered it. He sent Fig and the twins flying to the back of the room, making them hit the floor painfully with a thud.

The floor under the Pensieve started to swirl as if it turned into water. A knight emerged from it, it was big, too big, and it charged for Ranrok and his comrades, barely missing him with his sword. Professor Fig got up with a cough and Ellise helped her brother get on his feet.

The girl noticed a portal to her right and walked over to it, on the other side lay a forest, seemingly peaceful. “I know a way out!” Fig and Aiden kneeled to dodge a swing of the guardian’s sword “Professor!” She yelled to get their attention.

They ran over to the portal as a pillar that was cut in half fell right in their direction, each of the twins held one of Fig’s shoulders and placed their free hands on the portal, the three of them lowered their heads and shut their eyes as the pillar got dangerously close to crushing them. A light flashed and the portal did its job.

The professor whooped at their sudden teletransportation and they abruptly opened their eyes. They looked around, dark trees being all that was around them.

“Are you both alright?” Fig asked.

“Fine, sir.” Aiden answered “Ellise?”

“Me too.”

“I’ve never seen so powerful a goblin.” Eleazar exclaimed as he studied their surroundings “He seemed wholly unaffected by my magic.” He turned back to the twins.

“Where are we?” Aiden asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Fig looked around once more and chuckled “It can’t be.” He said marvelled “It seems those who set up the Pensieve, the locket - and the path to both - wanted someone with your abilities to end up here.”

They walked towards a lamppost with multiple path indicators on it, Fig stopped right under it “Come. We’ve a Sorting Ceremony to get to.”

The walk to Hogwarts grounds was far from short, and the staircase to the entrance hall was so long Ellise’s calves hurt after climbing them. They stood in the hall as Fig placed his ear on the heavy wooden doors.

He walked back to the twins “We haven’t missed the Sorting Ceremony” He pulled his wand out “I’m no expert, but that seems more appropriate.”

With a swish, Fig changed the twins’ clothes to plain black Hogwarts uniforms. The cloak was smooth and the button-ups fitted them perfectly. “I need to study this locket as soon as I can, but first I’ll contact the Ministry” He explained “They need to know about Ranrok, and what happened to George. For the moment I ask that you both keep what’s happened only between us.”

The professor walked back to the door and opened it slowly, loud chattering and laughter burst through the small opening and Fig peeked into the room, quickly turning back to the twins once more.

“Phineas Nigellus Black” He sighed with disdain “Prepare yourselves to meet the Headmaster.”

As if his entrance was timed, a man walked through the doors. He was tall and dressed with splendour, but, in Ellise’s opinion, he looked much like a cranky goat. She had to hold back a snicker. Aiden noticed and grasped her thought immediately, covering his mouth with his fist to muffle a chuckle.

“Fig - Nice of you to join us.” The Headmaster reprimanded “The Sorting Ceremony’s over.”

“There were - complications.” The professor tried to reason “It seems that the goblin problem-“

Nigellus groaned “Enough. Goblins?” He asked amused “I’ve no time for rumours, Fig. And I’m rapidly losing whatever patience I had left.” He turned towards the twins “If you’re lucky, we might still get you sorted this evening. Come.”

They both quickly followed the Headmaster, waving Fig a small goodbye with their hands. As they got through the grand doorway, Ellise noticed heads turning towards them; she didn’t know if it was curiosity over their tardiness or late sorting age.

“Professor Weasley, we’ve two more to get sorted” Nigellus asked dryly as they reached the front of the room, where a single stool was, ready for whoever to sit on “Go on.’

Aiden noticed Ellise’s apprehension “I can go.”, he reassured her. He sat on the stool as the feast hall slowly got quieter, everyone now watching curiously. A woman, seemingly Professor Weasley, placed a hat on his head and as much as Ellise tried to listen in, their mouth moved but no audible sound came out, was the conversation with the hat a private one?

The hat closed its cloth mouth looking deep in thought “You belong in - Slytherin!” The hat yelled through the hall, the Slytherin table bursting into loud cheers and whistles. Aiden got up and Professor Weasley changed his robe accents to his house’s, he walked towards his sister.

“Good luck, Leesie.” He gave her a reassuring smile and Ellise watched as he walked over to stand beside the woman who was waiting for her to sit down to place the hat on her head.

The hall got quiet again as Ellise sat down on the stool, she looked around and-

Brown eyes

The same pair from her dream, she caught a glimpse of them and her heart leapt in her chest for some odd reason. She tried to find the gaze again but couldn’t seem to, her thoughts being interrupted by the weight of the hat being placed on her head.

“Ah, another one of you.” She heard the hat say “Twins I presume?”

“Yes, I’m the oldest.”

“You both are a bit older than the others, aren’t you?” The hat commented, “You come here with preferences and preconceptions - certain expectations.”

“I’m looking forward to exploring Hogwarts and the world beyond the castle and grounds” Ellise chirped at the hat.

“Indeed. Much can be gleaned by having an adventurous spirit. But your professors certainly have a great deal to teach you as well.” The hat stopped to think for a bit “You do not give up easily, do you? You are undaunted to challenges that lie ahead, and your loyalty to a friend and your brother delayed your arrival here this evening. I’ve made my mind about you, child.” Ellise fidgeted with her hands and counted down the seconds until the hat announced her house.

“Better be - Hufflepuff!” The hat’s voice echoed down the packed hall, the Hufflepuff table cheering as the woman took the hat off her head and changed her robe accents to a yolky yellow colour. She was placed in a different house from her brother? That made Ellise a bit anxious at the least, she hoped she could befriend anyone soon, she didn’t know how different witch children were from muggle-borns, not like she had muggle friends anyway.

“Anyway, I’m sure you all have plenty to do before classes begin tomorrow,” Nigellus spoke out, the students just stared at him, which seemed to annoy the man “I said - I’m sure you all have plenty to do before classes begin tomorrow!”

Students rolled their eyes and groaned as all of them got up and exited the hall one by one, Ellise figured she wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone from her house tonight which annoyed her even more.

The woman turned towards her and Aiden “Quite an entrance! It’s lovely to meet you, I’m-”

“Professor Weasley,” The Headmaster interrupted “- Would you be so kind as to show our new students their common rooms?”

“I shall see to it, sir.” she nodded and turned back to the twins “As I was saying - I’m Matilda Weasley, a pleasure to meet you.”

Aiden shook her hand “I’m Aiden Villin, this is my sister Ellise. A pleasure to meet you as well professor.” Ellise also shook her hand and gave her a soft smile, which she returned.

“As Deputy Headmistress, it is my distinct honour to show you both to your common rooms. Right this way.”

Finally, they got to Ellise’s common room, they made sure to drop off her brother first in the Slytherin common room, the snake door leaving the girl’s mouth agape.

The Hufflepuff common room entrance was less extraordinary, consisting of what seemed like a wine cellar full of huge barrels “Now, here we are at the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.” Matilda gestured to a couple of stacked barrels on the far end of the cellar.

“This is the entrance?” Ellise asked, puzzled.

“Indeed! I will explain what to do, but I hesitate to do it myself as one errant knock leads to being doused in vinegar. Most unpleasant.” She let out a low chuckle “You must tap the barrel, two from the bottom, middle of the second row, in the rhythm of Hel-ga Huff-le-puff”

Ellise approached the barrels, the last thing she needed this evening was to be doused in vinegar, having to wash herself and her new uniform. She tapped the barrel in the rhythm, thankfully in the correct way, and the biggest barrel in the cellar revealed a tunnel, she couldn’t hide her relieved smile.

“Well done! Now you go in and get some sleep, you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.” The professor said and Ellise climbed into the barrel entrance “Please make sure to find your brother in his common room if you can, I’ll meet you both there in the morning to collect you both for your first class.”

“Thank you, Professor Weasley.” Ellise said, grateful that not all faculty was like the goaty Headmaster.

“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy your first night at Hogwarts. Sleep well.”

As Ellise reached the room of the fifth years, she noticed everyone was already asleep, so she was careful to be as quiet as possible. Waking sleeping colleagues had to be an awful first impression. To her surprise, her owl, Harriet, made it from the dragon attack. She changed into the pair of pyjamas that were neatly folded on her bed and scritched the owl’s chin, muttering a low “Good girl.”

When she let herself fall on the bed, she felt the heavy exhaustion on her sore muscles, she hoped tomorrow would be more peaceful for her and she was looking forward to starting classes and meeting all sorts of people, people like her.

That night, for the first time in ages, her dreams didn’t disrupt her sleep.

a/n: Finally I finished this!! I have so much planned for the next chapters, if you read this far, I hope you enjoyed my writing and the next chapter will come soon!

ps. I hope you guys noticed I didn't cancel Quidditch 😉

wattpad link / ao3 link

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow #hogwarts sebastian #seb sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #aiden villin #ellise villin #hogwarts oc #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts houses #slytherin #wizarding world #hogwarts fanfiction

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carnivore-voyeur · 2 months ago

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Here’s some chat guidelines for Per’s lives based on things he’s shared in all of them:

Per doesn’t refer to himself as Sodomizer. I’ve seen his friends still call him Sodo and he’s responded to Sodo. However, he doesn’t like his Sodomizer tattoo and he has stated that he doesn’t want people to refer to him as Sodomizer. It was done as a joke in reference to a friend’s band. It doesn’t represent him and he would like to get his tattoo covered up.

He’s not going to talk about his involvement in Ghost. He never talks about his involvement in Ghost. If he talks about Ghost at all, it’s in reference to seeing them live (in the past) or being invited to see the movie. Otherwise, he doesn’t talk about Ghost unprompted and he doesn’t talk about his relationship with Tobias Forge.

Some things are for fans/fandom only. He doesn’t need to know about fanfiction. He doesn’t need to know about ships / shipping. It doesn’t matter what he thinks about fictional names for the fictional ghouls in the fictional ministry fans created for Ghost. He’s not a part of that. That’s for fandom use only. Please separate Ghost fiction from reality.

He’s been getting very frustrated over discussions of his height and his hair. He’s not going to let his hair down because he doesn’t like his hair. He’s already answered questions about his height (He’s ~5’8”) multiple times. He doesn’t understand why people are obsessed with his height or his hair. (IMO, it’s okay to love those things about him. He just doesn’t necessarily want to talk about those things.)

Whether we like it or not, he’s not going to talk about political issues at all. He’s not comfortable talking about political issues, and he expressed that he would much rather people who want to make a political change to just do it rather than yell at him about it. He doesn’t condone the “horrible things” happening in the world, but he’s closed off from politics for whatever reason.

Stop asking about his sexuality. He’s said he’s straight multiple times now. He’s not dating his coworkers. Stop asking him what he thinks about LGBTQ+ people. He has repeatedly said he’s supportive of LGBTQ+ people. His opinion is that people should be able to be and do what they want as long as it doesn’t harm anyone else.

Be careful about heavy topics. (e.g. Someone asked him what he thinks of hate crimes.) You don’t know what topics could be uncomfortable or even triggering to someone, and it’s really not a great idea to bring in heavy topics to a livestream when a safe space for them hasn’t been established. That can not only be stressful for him, but for other people in the chat.

Edit:

There are a few fans who try to joke around with him by saying they're his girlfriend or wife or that they're married. Recently, someone told him in the live that they made a Character AI of him that was dating or married to them. This is very very serious parasocial behavior. We cannot normalize it in our fandom spaces. Do not encourage it. Report these accounts when you see them.

I’m sharing this not to be overbearing and annoying, but rather because the same things come up in every livestream and some fans are simply not aware of them. A lot of these things revolve around personal boundaries. Just remember that you’re talking to a real person and not the fictional ghoul fans have created for his stage persona in Ghost.

I feel like these are reasonable boundaries for a livestream that we can all respect. I’ve left out other topics that he doesn’t really care about or that he’s already answered because they’re not really harmful. (Yes, it can be irritating to see the same questions over and over but they don’t involve ignoring his boundaries).

Finally, if you’re going to watch his livestreams specifically to go attack him or his girlfriend with insults on Twitter or TikTok or any other form of social media then you need to figure out something else to do with your time. You are way too invested in someone you obviously don’t like. You are making yourself and everyone else miserable.

You don’t have to like him. You can criticize him for something he said or did that upset you. That doesn’t mean it’s acceptable to transgress his boundaries. That doesn’t mean it’s acceptable to make misogynistic comments against his girlfriend. That doesn’t mean it’s acceptable to wish harm on him. That is obsessive, “anti” parasocial behavior. It needs to stop.

#per eriksson #another ‘essay’ you can vague me about 💜#unmasked ghouls #unmasked ghoul #<- i only use those tags when i reference ghost and a musician in the same post

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drapopia · 4 months ago

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are you satisfied? (sister imperator x f!reader)

pairing: sister imperator x female!reader

warnings: semi-public sex, fingering, younger woman with older woman, sister is a soft dom in this scenario, discusses misogyny in the Clergy

summary: A title was not just a word, but a sentence for every member of the Ministry. You couldn't help but take your own to heart.

word count: 5.3k

Read on AO3

author's note: FIRST SMUT WHOOOO! as a lesbian, i am appalled to see the lack of sister fanfiction. i have taken it up on myself to change this! this reader was not written explicitly as a lesbian, but it was a constant in my mind. she does like traditionally feminine things, and i have written her as femme. everything else is up to your hearts content! likes and reblogs are always welcome!

as always, minors do not interact.

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

It was common knowledge that the Clergy ran on titles. Though power was the driving force, whether it was the seeker of power or the one beholden to it, titles were how you got places. Whether it be a Bishop moving to a Cardinal’s office, or a Sibling being allowed to be a stagehand on tour, you had to have a title that fit the role you played in the large scheme of the Ministry. You were reminded since the day you had arrived that the Dark One encouraged your ambitions, that you were to pride yourself on who you were.

Even more fun were the unofficial titles. Although Papa Emeritus the III was the leader of the church, dignified and charming as he may be, it couldn’t stop others from letting less than kind names slip from their lips. Papa Emeritus the II had the unfortunate unofficial nick-name of ‘cold bastard’, while Terzo had been afforded ‘pompous asshole’. The higher you rose in these hallowed halls, the quicker the names were pinned to your back.

But you weren’t ashamed. You had risen quickly out of your novitiate classes, a reward for countless hours spent staring at your textbooks, the amount of additional seminars you had attended so that someone, anyone, would remember your kind and curious eyes. You had sacrificed all your time, refused countless invitations into attractive Siblings’ beds. Though it wasn’t all bad. You had lapped up every morsel of information as quickly as it had been set before you, practically licked the plate and groaned for more. To you it didn’t matter if you had to settle your own needs with your hand if it meant there were no distractions. To know your goals and ambitions were within reach were pleasurable enough. The words that your fellow Siblings coined you with meant nothing. Reclusive, arrogant, self serving. None of these had slipped into your mind as you hungrily peeled back the letter opening to see where you had been placed at the end of your lessons. Top of the class, you thought to yourself with a small grin. A placing in the Clergy is what mattered most to you.

Personal assistant. You had to stop yourself from moaning aloud at the hand scrawled ink on the paper. And with that title, you met the woman who reigned over your life from that moment onwards. How were you supposed to ignore the urge to hold yourself to her, to follow her down every hallway? From the way her pointed toe heels sounded on the polished floor, to the suit and skirt that invited a hungry glance, everything about Sister Imperator commanded attention. You were no stranger to the rueful hisses in her direction, the names spanning from bitch to worse. Yet here she was, the way she held every eye in the room a fact nobody could ignore. And why would you ignore it, you thought to yourself. Your eyes had always been on her, every facet of her being.

Just as the names followed her, they followed you. You had to admit, your personal favorite was the one that Papa Emeritus the II had become fond of saying as you followed Sister out of meetings: her little lap dog. Your cheeks heated at the thought, but never of embarrassment. The thought of her dark lined eyes, red tipped nails, the way her voice made you snap towards her. She had always demanded attention. To think of ignoring it made your heart speed up, a sweat collecting on the back of your neck as you thought of what would happen if you failed to please her. The thought had haunted you on lonely nights as you imagined your own manicured hands were hers.

And here you were now, at your small desk outside of a larger inner office, the A/C blowing delightfully onto your cheeks. Your hands ached deliciously as they typed, the tap of your delicately painted nails more satisfying than any other feeling. It had been a relatively easy day, the sun shining from the bay window making you feel hazy with the urge to doze off. But you wouldn’t, you couldn’t. Distantly, you could hear the shouts and laughter of other Siblings, the summertime heat appealing to the masses. Your head turned, looking out the window to see dozens lined up on picnic blankets, the trimmed grass trampled under their bare feet. You smiled softly to yourself.

“Sister? A moment please.” A voice called to you from the other office, and your head snapped towards it. The door was open, the wreath of dried lavender hung deliberately high. You stood from your office chair, smoothing out any existing wrinkles on your habit, and walked quietly to Sister Imperator��s door.

Your kitten heels clicked quietly on the floor, a subtle smile on your face at the sound. When you had first bought them, Sister had smirked to herself, folding her hands on her desk.

“A new pair, Sister?” She had smiled, eyeing them appreciatively.

You had nodded, the blush warming up to your ears at her notice. “Of course, ma’am. Do you like them? I thought that the red would look nice with my habit.”

Her smile remained, looking up to your eyes and narrowing her own. Her crows feet had crinkled, the small dimples noticeable under the crepey wrinkles around her mouth. “Of course, they’re quite… cute.” She nodded once, then turned back to the phone and picked it off the receiver, signaling the end of this conversation.

And now you waltzed up to her office door, those same kitten heels delicately tapping against the linoleum. You leaned your head against the door siding, looking in. Sister was looking at her computer monitor, leaned against the large cherry wood desk she had owned since before you were probably even alive. The papers on her desk were few and far between, organized correctly within their correct holders. Her hair was in a delicate bun, a few fly aways around her neck. The same red lip and dark eye combo she had always donned were there, her eyebrows furrowed in a smattering of emotions that you had yet to pick through. Her mouth was pursed lightly, the red even more prominent.

“You wanted to see me, Sister?” You said quietly, waiting a moment to truly look over the woman before you. Her head turned, her lips peeking into the trained polite smile she always had when she was dealing with a member of the Church. (This did not include any members of the Emeritus family, the smile was exchanged in favor of a frustrated frown and an exasperated groan).

“Yes, I did. Have a seat.” She said succinctly, the tone of her voice leaving no room for leeway. Though most would be worried, you had no room to be. You knew you were capable and smart, there were no marks on your record or notes on any files that left any room to debate that you were intelligent. And Imperator knew this, reminded you of it with small remarks. Many didn’t understand that she rewarded those where it was due. The feeling of pride that bubbled up in your stomach when she smiled down at you always simmered down into a deep heat between your thighs that you fought to ignore. Her words were sharp, capable of cutting down even the most boisterous member of the church. She was dedicated, her devotion to Satan made you weak in the knees and made it impossible to focus. Want was nothing compared to the yearning you felt to curl up under her chin and ask what you can help her with, what you could do for her. What wouldn’t you do for her?

You nodded, padding over to the cushioned armchair in front of her desk. “What can I do for you?” You said softly, a polite smile on your own lips mirrored against hers.

Her hands dropped below her chin, her gaze meeting yours. “I’m unsure if you’ve heard,” she started, one hand dropping down to grab a piece of paper in front of her, “But we’ve had an issue with the building’s plumbing recently.” Her eyes dropped down to the paper in front of her, her green eyes running over the information.

Your smile dropped an inch. You had spent an hour on the phone earlier practically begging the water company to come out and take a look at the pipe crumbling in the basement of the church. They had been reluctant to visit a Satanic church, a common fear the public shared that you had become exasperatedly aware of in your time as Imperator’s assistant. “Yes, I’ve heard. I managed to schedule a plumber for later this afternoon, their ETA was recently-”

Her hand raised, and you stopped speaking. “I am aware of when they’re coming. I just wanted to let you know that the plumbing will be cut off to the Papal wing of the church, as that is where most of the problems are coming from. I wanted you to be aware so when they eventually come to you with complaints, you wouldn’t be completely surprised.”

A quick nod sent her way, and a ghost of a smile appears on her lips. “Good.” She says firmly. “If you’d like to, you can take your lunch break early. I understand that there’s a small gathering of other sister’s outside in the Courtyard reading some sort of shared book. I understand you’re fond of reading.” Her eyes are scrutinizing, but as always, you aren’t afraid. You want her to see you, see everything you could offer her. To be in her orbit, watching her as she simply exists makes your eyes feel misty.

“I do enjoy it. I’d rather just eat my lunch at my desk, if it’s no bother.” You say softly.

“Feel free to do so.” She replies, eyes now focused on the monitor in front of her. No doubt an email you could handle, you think to yourself. Her eye bags are tight under her eyes, the almost purple shadowing visible under her concealer and shining a cool grey in the light of the computer screen. I need to order her a new setting powder, you think to yourself. Maybe a pink tone, that should help with brightening her under eyes.

You smile at her, rising from the chair. “Thank you. Is there anything else, ma’am?” You want her to say stay, for her to take your hand in hers and raise it close to her, for her to give you more. More than what she’s already so gracefully given you. More than you will ever be afforded.

“Not at the moment. Just keep in mind when the appointment is.” She replies, eyes still keenly focused on the screen, her hands typing quickly at her keyboard. Your stomach drops the way it always does, the feeling of not being able to do at least one more task for her. A nod, and your kitten heels find their way back to your desk. As you exit the room, the office doorknob gripped in your hand, you swear you can feel her penetrating gaze on your habit. But the door closes, and the mirage fades.

—----

Your slippers make their way down the quiet hallway of the Abbey, the high stained glass windows leering above you like a hawk. But the moon shines through the panes, a comforting gaze on your otherwise troubled mind. The pink puffballs on the top of your slippers bounce with your brisk walk, so accustomed to walking in heels with a quick gait similar to Sister’s. Confidence is what makes you known, she had said on your first day as her assistant. Her hand had rested on your shoulder, warm and with a firm grip. It never hurt, only grounded you in the moment you were sure you’d look back on frequently.

Your shower caddy bounces against your hip, your patterned robe cushioning the plastic tote you carry with you. You always took your showers in the nighttime, it was hard to shower with others around you. While there were stalls for privacy of course, communal certainly meant communal. You were certainly not a prude, not in this church. Nudity was celebrated, and the women you shared quarters with were without a doubt some of the most gorgeous you had ever seen. Timidness was not a trait befitting someone of your rank, but it was hard to ignore. And here you were, showering after everyone had curled up in bed. The water hitting the floor was a balm to the pounding in your chest. None of the Papa’s had thankfully come to you with any complaints about their lack of water, but you’re sure there was at least one email chain that they had neglected to copy you on, no doubt filled with ceaseless demands by one of them. (Maybe even two Papa’s if Primo had a muddy day out in the garden). Nonetheless, Sister had assured you that their complaints were null and void. The Ministry comes first, she had always emphasized.

The door to the washrooms opened with a wave of air, the lack of humidity in the air letting you know that there was nobody in this room to distract you from your nightly ritual. You took hygiene seriously. The other Siblings in your dorm quarters had teased you occasionally, your primping and preening often a sight to see. While it was a misogynistic stereotype that pervaded many minds, you can’t deny that your world often feels like it needs to stop whenever you chip a nail. (By Satan, with prices nowadays, a chipped nail is thirty bucks down the drain!).

A brisk walk finds you to the open shower rooms, sequestered away in the corner, but open for those to see. You weren’t a prude, but you needed your privacy. It had taken quite a while to adjust to when you had arrived at the Abbey, but while you had grown to find comfort in some odd changes, you wanted to shower alone. With power comes a private bathroom, you reminded yourself as you sat hung up your shower caddy and set to taking off your robe. Maybe one day the little lap dog will have her own four poster bed to lounge on, you said to yourself mentally, not fighting off the grin that spread to your face. You set your robe on the hook to the side of the room, crossing over once again and turning the shower on to hot. The pipes in the Abbey were ancient, either blisteringly hot or bitterly cold.

The water ran down your hair, taking a moment to work its way through down to the tips of your toes. You sigh, the warmth prompting you to soften. Yes, a shower in a private room was what you needed most of all. A cabinet to hold your skincare, a place where you didn’t have to lug your conditioners, shampoos, lotions, body scrubs, the list was endless! Being an assistant could take you places.

But was that what you truly wanted? Was the thought of privacy and elevation all that was driving you forward? All of the lonely nights you spent hunched over your desk all for the sake of a private bookshelf and a personal window? The truth was there. You wanted her. You flinched outwardly, your expression drawn in. While your hands reached for your body wash and loofah, you couldn’t stop continuing down that train of thought. Her hands, worn and soft to the touch were what started it all. When Sister Imperator had taken your hand and shaken it, a trained smile on her lips as she welcomed you into the Church was what had sealed your fate.

Dalliances were few and far between for you. In a religion celebrating sins of the flesh, it was hard enough to deny the physical needs you had tried so desperately to bury away. Your hands, while capable and trustworthy, couldn’t compare to the dexterous fingers of the other women in your dorm quarters, or one of your instructors licking fervently at your cunt in a dark dust-laden cloister. But they never compared to when she would softly tell you “Thank you for scheduling this.” or the way her hands would come to grasp your own in a calming squeeze. Always asking of you, telling you, showing you where you were meant to be. How could they ever compare to the way her eyes narrowed down at you in a praising smile? Other siblings could frown, flip her off when she turned her back, outright disobey her, but you would pray at the altar of her rigidity, knees bloody in reverence of how she had fought to make her way to the top.

Your reverie stopped at the movement of cold air on your backside, an unwelcome opposite to the warm steam your hot water had created. You tried not to turn around, but you could feel their eyes on you. Your loofah continued its journey across your body, scrubbing gently at your stomach. The padding of shower slippers edged closer, the gait steady and-

“Sister? Is that you?” A familiar feminine voice called out to you. Your hands stopped, breath caught in your throat. How were you supposed to turn around? Hopefully the steam is thick enough, how were you even supposed to respond? Maybe it’s not even her, you thought frantically.

Your body turns, loofah posed over your breasts, body cocked at an angle so they can’t possibly see your lower body, only your ass. Your breath caught once more. It was indeed Imperator. Her hair was loose, soft waves of grey and muted blonde let go of their usual hold. Her makeup was cleansed, soft dregs on eyeshadow still tight in the small wrinkles of her eyelids. Her skirt and blouse have been exchanged for a satin burgundy robe, the sash tight around her waist. She has a small tote of products cocked at her hip, not unlike someone carrying a baby. You notice with a small bit of happiness that she shares a love of expensive shampoo. Desperately, you try not to notice the way her robe seems to slip, her cleavage beginning to bead with sweat in the condensation of the humid room.

“Yes ma’am, it’s me.” You manage to choke out, lips dry, eyes firmly locked with hers. Her gaze remains locked on yours, her lips pinched together tightly. Although you can usually read her quite well, you can’t find the wherewithal to figure out the emotion, your brain too mushy with the situation. Your worst nightmare and your most indulgent daydream.

She turns toward the shower adjacent to you, to your minute horror, and sets her things down. “Good. I’m sure you’ve put things together, but the water company failed to inform us they would be turning off not only the Papal Wing, but the entire Upper Clergy waterline. It was quite upsetting, to be truthful.” You swiftly turn your head, your hands beginning to sluggishly scrub your body once more. Suds have begun to gather around your breasts, hopefully obscuring her view. Or hopefully not, a familiar voice whispers into your mind.

“I’ll call them as soon as their office opens tomorrow, Sister. I explicitly told them to limit their turn-offs.” You sigh softly, letting the water run over your body. You can hear her shower turn on, and stare straight ahead to avoid what is undoubtedly her shucking off her bathrobe. You will not look, you will not intrude. A title is not to be ignored. You bend down, plucking your conditioner out of your tote and popping the cap. A sigh to your right, and you freeze. And though you feel your heart plummet in perverse shame, your eyes look to your left.

And, oh, it’s just as wonderful as you’d imagined. Views over clothes cannot compare to the divine countenance of your beloved Sister Imperator. Her head is cocked upwards, facing the ceiling with her eyes closed in bliss. The warm water is drawing her in just as it had done to you earlier, a calming sedative to the day. Her stomach and hips hang low, pink stretch marks mottled against her love handles and thighs. They mottle her lower body, a sign of the past that you feel a sense of curiosity for. But the curiosity passes, and an all too familiar heat begins to burn lower. Her breasts hang heavy, pink dusky areolas with a pebbled nipple perked in the middle. The backs of her shoulders are coated in freckles, did she spend time outside as a young woman, or is it just natural? Her hair has begun to dampen in the water, droplets falling down her hair and trailing down the slope of her ass. The pockets of fat on her hips and stomach are pale, your mouth going dry with the sudden intimate realization that they are just as soft as you’ve imagined. You can see a thatch of dark grey curls, silver as they fade out to her upper pubis. While her legs and arms have begun to wrinkle, you know for a fact that you’re positively dripping.

A moment too long. “Are you satisfied?” A voice firmly says. You freeze, your eyes still firmly locked on her breasts, and you realize you’ve been bent over for several moments too long. Eyes shifting up, you lock gazes with Sister. To your shock, and horror, her face is void of emotion.

“Sister.” A huff of breath, your throat dry from staring at the slopes of her sumptuous body. Your body springs into action, your chest heaving and legs shaking from the pure arousal simmering in your gut. You can’t go back from this, the trespass has been made. Tears are trying to fight their way into your waterline, the tightness in your chest still coiled with the tightness inside of you. “I apologize, I can’t believe I’m-”

“I asked if you were satisfied.” She replies, her eyebrow raised in question. Your heart drops. If there was a time to show your cards, it was now.

“No, I’m not.” A whisper crawls out of the dry cavern you call your mouth. You maintain eye contact, as she’s always taught you. As she’s impressed upon you, your rigid and right Sister Imperator.

A smile curls across her lips, her eyes narrowing. To your amazement, she crosses over to you, catching your cheek in your palm. A sigh, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning into her silky palm.

“I can tell.” Imperator says plainly, her lips still in the same smile. Her eyes are still level with your own, her thumb now weaving delicate circles into the apple of your cheek. She opens her mouth, her teeth now visible in a purposeful grin. “Have I ever mentioned the time I saw you fucking yourself under your desk?” Your heart stops, eyes widening. To know that she had caught you the singular time you had chosen to act perversely in public, the only moment you had allowed your walls to crumble in a hedonistic thrill?

She coos softly, her hand still cupped against your face. “Oh, I know you do now.” You can feel her other hand grip your waist, a soft gasp spilling out as she kneads the flesh in her hand. “If I had known you had felt this way, I wouldn’t have ignored you staring at me so blatantly.”

You can’t stop the strangled gasp that flies out of your mouth, cheeks flushing even further in the heat of the water. Your thighs clench together, the tightness doing nothing to stop the tension on your clit, the way you throb in the open air. “Sister, I’m… I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” You whine, trying to fight the strong urge to lean into her body, to feel her breasts against yours and to grip the hips you know feel delightfully soft.

“If I were feeling uncomfortable, I would have told you so.” She says, the sentence clipped shortly in a way you know she’s telling the truth. “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to. If I were feeling any unease, would I do this?” She leans forward, her lips pressing to yours in a firm and open kiss, your mouth opening with a moan to accept it. The feeling of her lips on yours makes you want to sob, and as your mouth opens, her tongue lightly dips in, As you let her tongue twist against yours, you take the opportunity to lean into her. Her nipples push against yours, making the wetness between your thighs throb harder than you thought possible. The way her lips press against yours isn’t helping the need.

The need to breathe becomes obvious, and you pull away with a great breath. You lean against her, your hands clutched to her arms. “Sister.” You moan softly, a barely audible gasp. She looks at you, her cheeks flushed and her hair draped in a wet curtain on her shoulders. “Sister, I need you.” You confess. What you don’t say is how you always need her. Need her to tell you what to do, where to be, how to act. All you need right now are her fingers fucking your cunt, her lips on your neck, your hands holding her tits like they deserve to be held.

“I suppose I’ve made you wait long enough.” She sighs, her eyes raking over your tits, a hand gently cupping one in her hand. Her thumb passes over the peaked bud, a strangled moan crawling out of your chest. Her other hand trails down your hip, an almost placating soothing motion that makes you want to collapse against her. Her thumb pinches your tit roughly, then passes over it gently in a way that makes you keen.

“Please.” You gasp, a pathetic whine that you don’t care to notice. “Please, I need…” Your cheeks flush, your hands trailing down to her hips, feeling the rippled flesh of her stretchmarks in a delicious grasp that makes your brain turn into mush.

“Need what?” She says quietly, her hand moving to grip your cheek and meet her gaze. The knowledge that you probably look half fucked makes you moan, tongue passing over your lips once to wet them.

“Your fingers. Please, anything, Sister. I just need…” You trail off with a whine as her hand dips below to your pussy, the tension that has bubbled there for years finally breaking. You whimper pathetically, her hand still pinching delicately at your breasts. Her fingers, careful not to pinch or pluck with her nails, draw tight circles over your clit. You can’t stop the sob that crawls out of your chest, the ache in your pussy tightening. The slick sounds from her hands and your wetness echo through the quiet washroom, and you should feel some shame. But you don’t, only the thrill of having her hands finally on you.

Her hands continue, stopping their attack on your clit and sliding languidly from your entrance back to your bud in a sweet glide. “Does it feel good? To finally have my touch?” She asks softly, a quick kiss pressed against your lips as she smiles.

“Yes!” A gasp is torn from your throat, your thighs beginning to tremble at the torturous yet delightful feel of her fingers at your hole. Her index finger teases, a slow circle around your entrance that makes you arch into her. You’re lucky you had brought your floor mat into the washroom with you, or you’re certain she would have busted a hip by now with your bucking against her.

“You’re doing so well, sister.” She whispers, her hand kneading at your breast. Your chest heaves in the humidity of the room, and the deep pleasure that makes your legs feel like jelly. A gasp, followed by a high moan invades the air as she gently pushes her index finger inside, curling inwards gently enough to where her short nails won’t bother you. Her finger retreats, and is followed by an additional finger. They curl upwards, pushing against a spot that makes your clit throb. You distantly wonder through the haze of pure bliss where she learned to touch a woman like this, surely not just on herself? The thought disappears when her hand leaves your breast to drop to your clit, her thumb making short circles on your clit. You can hear just how sloppy you’ve gotten, the softness of your pussy making it easy for her to glide against your swollen clit.

Your head drops to her shoulder, your hands still clasped around her neck. Your hands card themselves through her hair, a small pull that makes her gasp, then giggle against you. Your lips meet hers, her lips overpowering yours in a swift pull as you wantonly moan into her mouth. Her fingers continue to piston and curl against the sweet spot inside of you that you had waited so long for her to touch. You knew you were close, could feel the intense pounding of your heart in your chest. Your tongue licked at her lips, and her teeth gently bit down on your bottom lip. “Oh, Sister!” You whispered, desperately moaning into her mouth as she stretches you out. The ratcheting of pleasure draws ever closer, your noises so shameless you were certain Lillith herself would blush, and with a particular tight circle against your clit, you fell over the edge. Crying out at the sheer delirium, you clenched repeatedly on her fingers, your slick gliding down her wrist.

Sister Imperator kissed your lips languidly, your lips moving slowly and stupidly from the comedown, your legs trembling from the force of your climax. You could have laughed aloud at the pure elation you felt, her hands smoothing along your thighs.

You took deep breaths, your eyes closing. Your eyes shot open, the hunger in your chest reaching a new height when you realized you had yet to touch Sister. Your hands shot out to gently grasp her tits, but her hands stopped you in your venture forward. “Not tonight for me, I think. Another time.” She said, her voice still controlled as always. If you hadn’t been able to see her flushed face and kiss swollen lips, you would have assumed she was declining a receipt at a store. You nodded timidly. Women’s bodies, especially as they grow older, can be unpredictable. Who in the hell were you to judge her for not wanting to lube up for the night?

Her eyes softened, a noticeable shift in her usual confident demeanor. Her hand rose, placing her hand on your shoulder as she had always done. “Now,” she said quietly, her voice soft in the thrumming of the showerhead, “I want you to clean up and wait for me in my chambers. The door is unlocked.” Heart beating as fast as you had ever felt it, you nodded dumbly. She wanted you in her room? For the night? Sister raised her hand, tapping your cheek to get your attention once more. “Off you go.” She said solidly, her hand falling away from your cheek and turning towards the shower head.

As you cleaned up, turning off the opposite shower head from hers and stepping into your robe, you couldn’t help but feel her stare upon you. The realization that it had always been constant made you feel giddy, the heady feeling of being under her care making you feel dizzy, Your head shot up, your body straightening. “Well, Sister,” you say softly, making your way to the door, “Are you satisfied?”

She turns to you, her head cocked back as she rinses the conditioner out of her long straight hair. She rakes her eyes along your own body, and lets the ghost of a smile flit across her face. “When am I ever?” She says, the purr in her tone making the hair along your neck prickle. You giggle, closing the door as you begin the short walk to her quarters.

Titles were meant to be followed, and you were more certain than ever that you didn’t mind being her little lap dog.

#the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #sister imperator #sister imperator x reader #mdni #reader insert #ghost band fanfic #sister imperator fanfiction #sister imperator x female reader #my writing

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greenerteacups · 6 months ago

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forever grateful to you for sharing your musings, as if the book writing weren't great enough and hard work enough, you truly spoil us and i love you.

I'm popping in here to ask if you would like to talk about how you see Dumbledore. Sometimes I feel his manipulative side is abused in fanfiction, depicting little more than a heartless chess master.

And well, I guess I'm curious to find out if Lionheart Albus has a heart and will we get to see it. Maybe the more generous glimpses you give us of Snape and his interactions with him will shed some light on his hidden depths? Or will his appearances remain fleeting and enigmatic, always far and above all the little people we do know and adore?

Sorry, I know you can't possibly be completely balanced in your portraying of the whole cast, or they would spread too thin. I am here for the plot, for the Dramione and the Blacks, but I deeply enjoy all the character building (I truly live for all of them, not only our loved ones, I even cherish Warrington with sincere hate and am waiting for his comeuppance ) so I thought I would ask if you wouldn't mind a few comments on our opaque headmaster.

Thank you, friend! You're really kind.

Dumbledore has a relatively minor role in Lionheart for a few reasons — chief among which is, as you point out, that we just don't have time for everybody to get the same level of characterization the mains do. I have plot justifications for that, but it'd be disingenuous to suggest otherwise: Dumbledore's minor because I'm less interested in him than I am in Snape and Narcissa, and Lionheart is much more about Draco's sphere of the world than Harry's. That being said, I think some people forget how small Dumbledore's role is in the original books. He pretty much exists to deliver exposition and tell Harry how to beat the final boss; dude doesn't even get a gesture at a backstory until he's already dead. In fact, it's kinda weird to me that everyone (including a lot of people in the series) treats Dumbledore like he's some kind of guardian for Harry, especially with respect to the decision to keep him at the Dursleys. I know it's set up in the prologue, but if I'm Dumbledore, and I'm catching strays for Vernon Dursley being a piece of shit, I'm gonna be like:

The TLDR on Dumbledore is he's blamed way too much for stuff he doesn't do instead of the stuff he does. People seem to blame him for everything bad that happens to Harry because he's a competent adult in the general vicinity of the kid. But with the possible exception of hiring Lockhart — a bad decision I attribute to Early Installment Weirdness and, just maybe, a certain scarcity of applicants for a position where the last dude Literally Fucking Died — there's not a whole lot of shit that happens to Harry in the first few books Dumbledore could've prevented. Plus, he does in fact have Other Shit to be Doing. Is he a really powerful wizard who probably could've saved Harry's ass in a lot of the fights he gets into? Yes. Does he also have a whole school to run, a secret guerrilla group to direct, a Ministry full of political enemies to placate, and — oh yeah — a snake-faced immortal evil sorcerer he's playing 4D chess with at all times? Yes!

The whole lamb-to-slaughter thing with Harry is admittedly quite dark, but I don't read it as machiavellian. For one, Dumbledore obviously comes to this conclusion after a lot of deliberation, and to his death, he refuses to tell Harry about it, because (one assumes) he never intends to kill Harry himself. He's willing to hinge the fate of the free world on his respect for Harry's autonomy and/or his faith that Harry will make the "right" choice. That's pretty humane, given the circumstances. And he holds off on telling Harry about the horcruxes because... he doesn't want to inform a literal child that he'll eventually have to kill himself for the war effort. Oh, GOD, what a SCHEMING MONSTER. Surely this is motivated by menace, and not the grieving reluctance of a seasoned veteran who wants to preserve whatever few years of happiness this kid can eke out of life.

The areas where Dumbledore is morally shady come out most in his interactions with other adults. His conversation with Severus in 1981, for instance, is the one time in the books where I was legitimately frightened of him, because it's a rare time he's completely without mercy or grace. "What will you give me in return, Severus?" is a character-defining line, because Snape has just told him that two twenty-somethings and their infant child are about to be murdered, and Dumbledore's hit back with the subtextual equivalent of: "Tough shit. Why is it my problem?" Which is COLD AS FUCK! And we can kind of infer that he's not in earnest here, that he's manipulating Severus by making him think Dumbledore won't protect the Potters (even though they're Order members, which this theory requires us to assume Severus doesn't know) so that he can get him to work as a spy — but we don't know that for certain, right? It's all inference. We hope that his implicit threat isn't genuine, but what would happen if Severus said no, and walked away? How much did Albus understand about Snape's feelings for Lily, and what kind of person does it take to bluff like that in front of a known Legilimens? That line is intimidating as fuck whether or not Albus means it.

It's bits like these, where he's talking to people that he actually dislikes, where we get hints of the real Machiavellian Albus Dumbledore, and it's absolutely fascinating. He's the veteran of two wars, going on three when he dies, and you can tell in how he conducts himself. That includes, by the way, his gentility with children and his respect for innocence. But he's not just Good Funny Grandfather Dude or Crafty Mastermind. He's a general. He's been waging wars from the back lines since his twenties. That does something to your brain, and it doesn't leave a lot of you left over for anything else.

#greenteacup asks

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thedrarrylibrarian · 1 year ago

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Hey!Can you please recommend me some fanfictions where harry sees draco's sectumsempra scars and feels absolutley guilty?

It need not be the main focus of the story,but one good scene about it would do!

Thanks.

Hello, hello! Your holds have arrived!

I loved your ask, and appreciated the openness of it, as I think not being limited to completely Sectumsempra focused fics allowed me to pick some extra great fics! In general, for this list, the shorter the fic, the more focused on the Sectumsempra scene/scars it is. Hope you enjoy!

Sectumsempra Scars

That Won't Erase It by @triggerlil (539 words, rated M)

Two men, a multitude of scars, one intimate moment.

I'm Sorry (it doesn't matter) by @carpemermaidtales (words 637, rated M)

Harry trailed off and pressed a kiss to Malfoy’s temple. “I’m still sorry, all the same. I wish that hadn’t happened. I wish you weren’t scarred from it. I guess now I know why you always insist on showering at home instead of in the training centre.”

“Well, that, and the facilities are appalling,” Malfoy muttered acidly.

Harry froze. He hadn’t realised Malfoy was awake.

Sectumsempra Scars by @drarrily-we-row-along (1,055 words, rated T)

Harry woke up first the following morning. He’d shifted, rolling toward Draco and opening his eyes; he wasn’t prepared for the sight that met him.

The normally flawless skin of Draco’s chest and abdomen was covered with raised scars, scars that intersected and crossed all the way up to his neck, one trailing as high as his cheek.

And for a minute, Harry tried to piece together what could have happened in his bed overnight.

life's like an hourglass glued to the table by @phoebe-delia (1,455 words, rated T)

I really don't know how it got like this.

That's not true, yes I do. Of course, I do. I was there, near the middle of it all; not the epicenter, not the periphery, but somewhere within the nebulous part in-between. I was close enough to be scathed, to be one of the supporting characters—though I'm fairly certain my support was the problem—but I was neither protagonist nor antagonist.

Phoenix in the Fire by @fw00shy (1,466 words, rated E)

Their first time was an accident. "Sex pollen," Draco claims, though everyone knows it was too much Ogden's after Puddlemere beat the Tornados 240-230.

"He's like a vengeful sex demon after he's lost," Harry confesses in the privacy of Hermione's kitchen. "A lustful, bitter jackhammer."

Sun Stroke by @peachpety (3,854 words, rated E)

Draco, Harry, and a handful of friends take a summer holiday at the beach. With the help of a sultry sea setting, encouraging friends, and a fisherman’s jumper, Harry and Draco's mutual attraction swells and things get hot on a salty summer night.

Erase the Shame by @fleetofshippyships-archive (6,763 words, rated E)

An Inter-House unity party is the last thing Draco wants to go to. It's not long into a game of Truth or Dare when he is reminded why.

But maybe his dare is worth it after all.

In The Company of Serpents by @corvuscrowned (24,954 words, rated E)

There’s something wrong with the serpents at the Greengrass Ophidiarium. Luckily, a certain Parselmouth just might be able to help.

Oh, Sinnerman by @lou-isfake (40,068 words, rated E)

“I’m serious, Potter,” Malfoy said quietly. “That was some real bad luck you had, being there last night. They will come after you, and they will kill you—after torturing you for information on my whereabouts.” He pocketed Harry’s wand, but held on to his knife, twirling it between his fingers. Harry was distracted by its movement, the reflections of the bright, dawning sun on polished silver. “I’m not happy about it, either, but you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future.”

He watched Malfoy’s face for a long time, in a staring contest he wasn’t sure he’d signed up for. Stuck with Malfoy, for the foreseeable future, on the run from a massive crime syndicate that had infiltrated the Ministry and was out for their blood.

It was all very familiar, except for the Malfoy part.

Everything is Relative to You by @thehoneybeet (43,111 words, rated E)

Potter was supposed to have lived. Draco is certain of this. That Potter would no longer walk the earth was tantamount to the sun moving west to east across the sky. If only he could have stopped this from happening, if he’d have known…

It comes to him as ideas often did: too late.

Or, Harry dreams of his past lives, and Draco is in every one.

Not From Kindred Stock by @p1013 (45,779 words, rated E)

"Potter!" Draco calls again, but this time he pauses at the sound of his voice. "Potter?"

Something is very wrong.

Because now that he's gained a little of his equilibrium back and the room is no longer spinning, Draco has a sinking realisation that his voice doesn't sound rough or gravelly, but rather different. Different like his vision and the feel of his body around his bones and the bloody goddammned fucking clothes on his—shagging Salazar, God fuck, this isn't his body.

Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters (73,981 words, rated M)

Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesn’t much think about what he’s trying for.

In his final term of Healer training, Draco is unfortunate enough to find himself on a plane, the only means of traveling to a small, magical town in rural Alaska. Years of hard work have culminated in an opportunity to work with an experimental wandmaker to study the intersection of Healing and wand theory. When Draco arrives, he doesn't find the wandmaker, but does find his apprentice, who happens to have ridiculously messy hair, a lightning bolt scar, and a definitely-not-charming smile. But Draco isn’t going to let Harry Potter get in the way of him becoming a successful medical researcher, even if Potter is stubborn, hot-tempered, reckless, surprisingly gentle, has bizarre taste in music, and likes to leave his shirts unbuttoned. How hard could the next few months be?

A fic about challenging assumptions, discovering self-worth, the silver lining in failing to meet expectations, and finding friendship, love, and purpose in a small Alaskan town that’s steeped in magic.

in the dark by @toxik-angel (81,213 words, rated M)

Draco Malfoy may not have a Manor or money or status or a family or friends, but he has his looks, and goes into the glamorous modeling field.

And listen. Listen. No one can blame Harry for being obsessed with him all over again.

Bolts by @lqtraintracks (114,500 words, rated E)

Harry joins the Hogwarts staff as the new History of Magic Professor, while Draco has already been teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts for the past year. When Samantha, a first year, is being bullied one day and throws a made-up Truth curse at her harasser, only to accidentally hit Harry instead, Harry becomes cursed to tell the truth, and not only that, he has to regularly tell it to Draco Malfoy. Samantha is clearly gifted, maybe the most powerful witch or wizard to ever come through Hogwarts, and yet she has no idea how to take the curse off. As they work to remove it—and also teach Samantha how to control a power that's becoming more dangerous by the day—will Harry's truths become too much to handle? And will whatever’s going on with Draco just make everything exponentially worse?

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Reading!

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