Mini Fic - Blog Posts

I show a post saying Barty went around telling everyone him and James were dating

so I wanted to make a little thingy

It probably started when someone was flirting with Barty and he wanted to get away and went: “shit I got to.. go see” *tries to think of something, mind goes to James* “my boyfriend!” (??). Then he keeps it going for shits and giggles, and then he panics when ppl ask him about it cause he doesn’t know why he thought of James out of everyone

———————————

A Ravenclaw: *flirting with Barty* so crouch.. I heard a little rumour that you fancy people with brains..

Barty: [who would rather be anywhere but there]

Barry: uhhh.. yeah I do, did you know Gryffindors are quite smart too? Like uhhh.. James Potter, for example, like his my boyfriend yk? and all-

Ravenclaw: ..what?

Ravenclaw: Oh. That’s cool I just thought- ykw nvm.

Barty: yeah you didn’t know that? We’re dating

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Hufflepuff: so Barty..

Hufflepuff: [flutters eyelashes, smirks and puts hand on Barry’s thigh]

Hufflepuff: what do you do even Quidditch is on? Do you go back to your dorm.. because I could tag along..

Barty: no, I don’t. I actually uh, I normally go hang out with my.. boyfriend, James Potter. Yk the one who your team lost to? The captain and prefect? The one-

Hufflepuff: .. I’ll go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Doesn’t even make sense cause James would either be playing or watching all the games, but Barty wasn’t thinking)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marlene: Barty!

Barty: what?

Marlene: what is it I’m hearing ‘bout you and Jamie?

Barty: ..

Barty: uhh, where’d you hear that?

Marlene: I was near some Hufflepuffs and heard a mention of it

Barty: why you snooping near Hufflepuffs?

Marlene: don’t change the subject. What’s the deal?

Barty: I needed an excuse to get away from ppl so yk.. I used him as an excuse

Marlene: why James tho? Wouldn’t Evan be more useful, cause you see him daily

Barty: .. James was just the first person I thought of

Marlene: ..

Barty: I guess

Marlene: ..alright then-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dorcas: Barty.. why?

Barty: ‘why’ what? I didn’t even do anything!

Dorcas: Oh, so running around saying your dating, Potter? Is nothing?

Barty: you heard that did ya?

Dorcas: of course I did, I hear everything. May as well call me “Rita fucking Skeeter”

Barty: okay I did! People were annoying me and I just said “My boyfriend needed me” and just threw Potter’s name in there so people would shut up and leave me alone!

Barty: god do people ever stop and leave me alone? Stop asking me about it god!

Dorcas: ..

Dorcas: okay.. my bad then

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Talia (singing, talking to Jason on her phone): Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you? He's still a threat until he's dead! Finish it.

Batman (connecting the dots): Are you the reason he does that?!

Talia: What are you talking about?

Ra's Al Ghul (smoking): Yes. I have a bunch of videos of them singing together.

Batman snatched the phone away making Talia angry and almost made Ra's attack, but Talia held up her hand to stop him.

Batman: Don't!

Jason (raising his sword for the kill but stopping himself): Oh shit, you're here too.

Talia: I enjoy musicals as well, what of it?

Batman: I knew it! WHY DO YOU ENCOURAGE HIM!

Ra's (in Arabic): La tasrakh ealayha! (Don't yell at her ass!)

Batman (speaking back in Arabic): Autlub minha 'an tatawaqaf ean altaathir ealaa abni! (Tell her to stop influencing my son!) Yeah I learned the language, jackass!

Ra's wanted badly stab the man, but walked off in a huff.

Talia: Don't blame me for him being a talented singer.

Talia held up her hand and walked off ending the conversation.

Batman (into the phone): Don't kill him!

Jason: But... I wanted to. I had a song for it and everything.

Batman (regrettably singing): What good would killing do? When mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use. The blood we shed, it never dries. Is this what it means to be a warrior of the mind? I hated all of that, but I'm doing it for you, remember that!

Damian on the other hand clapped making his father more embarrassed.

Jason: The bastard sung to make me stop. Damn it, fine.

Mini-fic or Prologue - who knows?!

Okay, I have drafted a prologue for the Xiyao fic I threatened earlier today. My friend likes it, so I took a second glance at it, smoothed out a few wrinkles, and now I'm throwing it here.

I have no idea if this can function because I have yet to read the books, so I can't tell for certain if I will use it all - and if I do, it might not be the prologue so much as part of a chapter, all of that is written in the stars. But since Ao3 doesn't allow placeholders (nor should it) and I don't know when I get to write the whole thing (although that I will write it certain), I'll at least put this fragment of questionable permanence here for the time being. I will announce when I post the actual fic to Ao3.

No Bonds Can Hold Me

‘Maintain your own discipline. Train your body and your mind. Store your inner wisdom deeply.’

Second nature. All of this was second nature to a man who had lived by these rules his entire life. Now discipline eluded him, his mind refused to focus on what mattered, and his inner wisdom was torn to shreds. There was almost nothing left of the man he had been … before. And if there was nothing left, what was the point of him? ‘Do not act impulsively.’ That rule had saved his life several times over recently. To what end? He had broken so many others: ‘Do not grieve in excess. Do not bully the weak. Do not associate with evil.’

Am I the evil? The voice that existed in his thoughts only perforated his meagre attempt at meditation again, stripping away another layer of his strength.

Seclusion had done nothing to erase the guilt and the pain and the grief, to silence this voice. It lived in his heart as constantly as its beating. It hadn’t helped compose his mind, hadn’t let him accept that what was done was done. Every time he started out asking himself, ‘How could I have acted any differently?’ the question quickly degraded into the much simpler and much more destructive, ‘How could I?!’ The blood on his hands and clothes was long gone, but he could still feel it sticking to his skin any time his eyes closed, could smell its cloying scent, so much, so much of it.

‘Be gentle and content in adversity.’

Slowly, Lan Xichen opened his eyes. It was, indeed, done, and yet he knew there was one path not yet taken. ‘Do not act impulsively. Do not fall to evil.’ But was an act he had chewed over time and time again for more hours than he could count impulsive? Was saving a soul evil?

He hadn’t allowed himself those thoughts at first, but now that he did, he felt calmer. ‘Have a strong will and anything can be achieved.’ His path was laid out before him and he would walk it openly and with determination. He needed help, and he wasn’t afraid to ask for it. Beg for it, if he had to.

‘Don’t be unreasonable.’ What was one more rule broken anyway?

The voice in his head that kept repeating his name like a broken mantra could only be assuaged by returning it to the real world. It was his fault that it had been silenced, so it had to be him that did all he could to restore it. (‘Uphold the value of justice.’) And if that proved impossible, he should earnestly consider following it into oblivion, the way he had been prepared to.

Lan Xichen stepped out into the darkness. (‘Venturing out at night is prohibited.’) He had tried to silence the call that only he could hear, but now he welcomed it, let it guide his steps and fuel his spirit. Lan Xichen, Lan Xichen … ‘Yes,’ he thought, conscious of the cool air surrounding him and the light breeze rustling his robes, ‘I still hear you. I’m not grieving for you. I’m coming for you.’

bit of steddie ghostface au anyone?

Nancy thought she was holding her trembling back well, but it was hard to have any confidence in the face of those dead, blank, masked eyes. Two pairs of empty holes staring up at her, waiting. She felt more trapped than they were.

Which was certainly not true, as she was stood quite freely next to a news camera supported on Jonathans shoulder, hooked up to the stolen reporter van situated to their left. Meanwhile the masked figures were tied thoroughly to the two metal chairs at both the arms and legs.

But…there was something in the slight tilt of the left persons head, like a confused dog waiting to see what would happen next. It was getting to her. Making something deep and old inside her uncomfortable and restless.

But she couldn’t look away, not now. With one last look towards Jon and a confirmation nod, she approached the figures.

“We are live across Hawkins news stations ,there is no getting out of this. Everyone will know who you are.” If the duo had any thoughts on her comments, they didn’t show it. Masks unmoving. “I need you to look into that camera knowing the families of your victims are watching.”

And that got a reaction, a small jump of the shoulders. A weird motion to place without being able to see a face, but Nancy could tell. It was a little laugh.

Any fear she had was stripped away to red hot anger, she ignored Jonathans call of ‘wait, Nancy-‘ as she reached for the mask, ripping it off with a harsh movement that made the persons head snap back slightly. And then it was done. She was holding it. She would know. They watched as the bent over stranger, who’s face was still obscured by a mess of hair, began to shake.

And the horrible, cold dread of truth seemed to weigh down on Nancy as she realised…she knew that hair. She knew that expressive body language. Knew why she could tell he was laughing, because she had seen it a thousand times. The head lifted to reveal Eddie Munson.

Local freak, dungeon master and…Nancys friend. An older sibling figure. An idol to her brother. He sat, body obscured behind a robe and looking far too pleased with himself. She was going to be sick. The mask dropped from her hand as she took a shaky step back.

“Aw Nance, I told you I had plans tonight didn’t I?” His voice was clear and calm, teasing and playful. Like he was teasing her the same as all those times before. She had to…she had to get out of there. She couldn’t even speak.

She jumped as a hand landed on her shoulder, vision spinning as she turned towards the new danger. But it was just Jonathan. He had small tears in the corner oh his eyes, but his face was twisted in determined anger. The trembling through his body seeming to end just before his arm supporting the camera, keeping it steadily fixed on Eddie who was back to tilting his head at the lens. The hand grounded her, reminded her that this wasn’t about them. That she’d have plenty of time later to scream and cry and ask ‘why?’ to an empty room.

But for now, she had to show Hawkins who they had to blame. She still had to unmask the killers-…Eddie’s accomplice. Before she could though, a movement from the right caught her attention. A full body shake seemed to have overtaken the remaining masked individual.

Eddie turned to look at his apparent partner with a look of…distain? Annoyance? Nancy didn’t know, but it confused her enough to approach the second person. When she did, she noticed the shaking was accompanied by a laboured breathing and was that…sniffling?

What the fuck was going on? The body began to sway aggressively, a panicked movement as if trying to get out of the bonds holding them there. The mask darted from side to side, as if looking around in confusion. The sight was equal parts terrifying and baffling.

Nancy hastily got a grip on the persons head from behind to steady it which earned her a panicked shout, before she grabbed the underside of the mask and pulled. And the feeling of her heart shattering seemed to line up with the echoing sound of the plastic hitting the floor.

It didn’t matter that she was standing behind him. She knew exactly who that was. “J-Jon? Man what is happening here, please you have to help! I dont, I dont know where I am-“ The terrified, shaky voice of her ex boyfriend filled the room.

His pleading fell on deaf ears, as Nancy supposed the ringing in Jonathans head must be as loud as hers. But somehow through the mess of emotions, her brain latched onto the only easy to comprehend information. The only thing she could try and deal with. What was he saying?

He…didn’t know where he was? He wanted help?

Immediately she swung to the front of him, kneeling down in front of the chair and taking his face in her hands. She turned it from side to side, as if looking for a clear answer. “Steve, Steve you need to calm down.”

“I don’t know what’s going on or where I am and I can’t breath Nancy I can’t breathe what’s happening you have to help me I can’t breath oh my God what’s happening I can’t-“ a pained gasp around tears. “I don’t understand I don’t understand I don’t-“

“Steve!” She shakes his head slightly. “Steve, listen to my voice. I’m here, Jon is here. You’re okay. We will figure this out, okay. But first I need you to calm down.” He shakes her head at her but noticeably stops swaying. His breathing evening out slightly as his eyes

Take her in. She sees him purposefully take a few deep breaths before looking up at Jon to confirm he was still there. Still stood above him. That seems to remind him of his situation. “I don’t…” He exhales a pained breath. “I don’t like this. Nancy, why am I tied up?”

“Steve…”

“I…Trust you. But I can’t handle restraints Nancy, you know that from…from last time. I don’t know what’s happening, please…untie them.” She stares up at him for a few seconds, searching his wet eyes as her hands naturally reach to undo the rope around his ankles.

But something stops her. A deep, gutfeeling prevents her from moving any further. Like something in his eyes was telling her…she shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry, not now. We will figure this out, but I cannot do that.” A look of betrayal washes over his sunken face, and she almost regrets her choice. Until she hears a little laugh from beside her. Breathy and mocking.

“Man, that was so pathetic.”

But before she can turn to look, a twitch at Steve’s mouth catches her attention. Like another mask was ripped away from him, his demeanour falls apart.

Like the shaking crying man was never there. In its place was the Steve she knew, in the worst way possible. He looked fine. Just fine. Happy, even. Like he was joking around with the kids. A genuine smile on his face as he looked over to Eddie, not caring for Nancy at his feet.

“Awe come on, I almost had it there.”

“You didn’t have shit sweetheart, your big eyes are too expressive. You’re not supposed to look happy to have apparently been at my mercy for weeks.”

“Well, we both know I’m more than happy for-“

“What the fuck is going on?”

Both of their heads swivel towards her. And she isn’t sure if its the perfect sync or the cold, dead eyes that make her freeze up and wish she hadn’t spoken. She needs to…needs to back up. She can’t be on camera for this anymore.

They both snicker at her clear retreat before looking towards each other as if to, what? Get their stories straight. In any other situation she would scoff. It’s not like they had any way to talk their way out of this one. When Eddies eyes finally return to het his look is positively taunting.

“Is it not obvious, Nancy Drew?” He tacks it on in the same tone he would tease Mike in, it makes her feel sick to her stomach. “I mean, I don’t think there is a more conclusive way to catch two masked killers. You have your big Scooby Doo moment already.”

That gets a laugh out of Steve, a real laugh like a girl twirling her finger around a phone cord while talking to her crush. She isn’t sure why it makes her want to punch him in the face. The anger helps. It lets her pretend. Put on an act for the broadcast.

“So you admit it?”

“Admit what exactly, Nance? Need some specifics here. You know I’m an idiot.” The thing wearing Steves face jeers at her .

“You killed them. You killed Fred, and Patrick. Jason and Andy. You killed…you killed Chrissy.”

Eddie makes a humming noise and opens his hand into a fist where it peeks out from behind the chair.

“Let’s see let’s see. So we have Fred first of course. Easy one really, took you all a while to notice that.”

“Yeah poor kid, you guys were really cruel to him.”

“Right? And Next we have Andy. Steve took that one for the team-“ they both giggled at the pun. “Cause I can’t take on a basketball member.”

“I don’t know, you fared pretty well against Jason.”

“4 years of repressed anger baby, absolute magic.”

“Shame about Chrissy though.”

“Yeah, nice girl. Just bad luck really, the one time she wanted some drugs was when I was halfway through her boyfriends skull…”

“It couldn’t be helped.” Steve gives him a comforting look.

“No, no you’re right. Had to be done.”

Nancy waits for them to continue but they just…don’t. They leave it there.

An eerie silence takes over the room, but the two seem quite content to stare into each other’s soulless eyes.

And it seems to piss Jonathan off just as much as her because he finally speaks up.

“And Patrick?” His voice is scratchy with held back tears and vitriol.

“What about Patrick?” Eddie cocks his head again.

“Which one of you…killed Patrick?”

Both of the men look at each other, then slowly back to Nancy and Jon. Before landing on the camera lens.

“Well, we can’t take credit for everything can we?”

And with that, the lights in the warehouse shut off.

Nancy jumps, trying to hold in the little scream as Jon drops the camera to the floor and yanks her towards him, their heavy breaths the only sound. Waiting.

“Nancy…” Jonathan whispers.

She can’t speak. Can’t open her eyes or her mouth. Can’t keep up, can’t breathe. So she nods against his chest.

“…Robin said she had plans tonight.”

Alright, so... Rennala.

By the grace, Rennala...

(Gushing, rambling, and kind of a mini fanfic below the cut.)

Gods, I love her so much. I'm so glad we don't kill her in-game. Long live the Queen of the Full Moon! (Yes, I'm going to be gushing about Rennala for quite a bit.)

I love her. Don't give me Ranni, give me her mother. If I could, I would have played a playthrough solely dedicated to wifeing up Rennala and giving her the happiness she deserves. Rennala deserved so much better, man. I would give her the world if I could.

Not to mention she's stunning??? Look at her, look at my wife–

Look at her absolutely ethereal features! She is mesmerizing! A true queen! My lady, I think you dropped this. 👑

I might have cheesed her my fourth try, but she looked damn good beating my ass with a whole fucking dragon summon the first three times.

Now, look at her again. Hair. Down.

Perfection. Stunning. Lovely. Majestic. Beautiful. A round of applause for our queen! 👏

I can not remember where, but I saw some art somewhere where they drew Rennala with silver/white hair and, oh my God, ya'll... That image lives rent free in my brain. Rennala with white hair is just—👌

Can you imagine it?

She let's her long locks of white hair down from her hat, letting it cascade down her back as she gazes up at the moon.

The pale moonlight dances across her fair skin, practically making her glow, as her hair shines a bright silver.

It as if there is liquid silver falling down her back like a soft waterfall in the argent glow of the majestic moon above, as if she was blessed by the dazzling lunar display itself.

—I need to catch myself, I was starting a fanfic there for a second.

Anyway, I've been rambling for far too long. Bye ya'll!

In the vein of those Din and Luke meet on Tatooine before they live the Star Wars?

I propose that Din is the ~sweetheart from back home story Luke tells people if they ask about that kind of thing, you know?

Nineteen year-old Luke who gets tossed into the deep end whe he joins the Rebellion, right?

Farm boy from Tatooine in a starfighter squadron filled with people like Wedge and Janson.

And all the hurry up and wait that happens, and a card game that springs up between missions. Some late night somewhere - Hoth, maybe - and it was just a little too much to toss and turn all night in the bunks, maybe tale a stroll through base. Stop by the hangar because someone’s always there - weather lie this you can bet someone’s fixing something or adapting it to make it work in these conditons, and anyway, anyway.

Hell of a lot better than being stuck with your own thoughts you know backwards and front.

Keep reading

Hellooooo my darlings! Everything is going well? I hope so! :3

Just two mini fics i wanted to write about how Charlie and Phantasmo had Olivia, their fan child that i created! You can find my post on here: https://www.tumblr.com/honeymochibubbletea/740783758018576384/ladies-gentlemen-and-every-single-beautiful

1° version:

“It was a peaceful morning like any other on Telltown… until Charlie and Phantasmo were jumping at each other’s throats in the middle of a bakery: Phantasmo was pulling Charlie’s hair and she was punching hard his face… just your everyday typical day….

After hours of fighting Phantasmo, Charlie finally defeated him (again) and passed out due to tiredness. When she woke up in her bed (thanks to Carter carrying her home), she heard a baby crying, but, strangely, it was very loud and it even looked like it was at her front door of her house…

So, she got up and went to the front door of her house: and there it was, a baby in a basket. With a letter attached to it. She widened her eyes in surprise and looked around to see if this wasn’t a prank (or even another plan of Phantasmo…) but by the looks of it, it looked unlikely…

She awkwardly looked at the baby and the baby continued to keep on crying, louder and louder. She then called Carter to help her:

Charlie: Carter! C’mere! There’s a baby at our front door and i don’t know what to do!!

Carter: What?! Really? Let me see!

Carter then went where Charlie was and picked up the baby carefully and lifted up in the air playfully but also safely:

Carter: Daaaww, isn’t this the cutest little baby you’ve ever seen Charlie?

Charlie: Well, it is a lot cuter now that it’s quiet, that’s for sure…

Carter gives Charlie a “are you serious?” Look and kept on goofing around with the baby, who was now giggling adorably. Charlie then decided to read the letter to see who in their right mind would abandon a little life like that? At a stranger’s door like that? This isn’t those old movies where a mother abandoned a child in a church or something! This is real life!

When Charlie opened the letter, it said:

“Dear Charlie or Phantasmo, to whoever i place the baby at the front door’s first, i very douchey placed your FUTURE child (not another timeline, but in the future) at your front door because ☆~Y E S~☆. So now it’s your responsibility and problem, lol, good luck!”

Charlie was… very confused, to say the least… Who was this “Timekeeper”? Were they being actually serious? And… Wait… what did they meant by “our future child”?!? Did they…? Kidnapped a newborn!? From the future!?! And did Charlie had a CHILD with HIM?! PHANTASMO?! No, that can’t possibly be: there was NO WAY the two could… Well, obviously this “Timekeeper” was up to no good, hell, maybe they are working with Phantasmo to incriminate her? Yeah, that seems a much more plausible explanation… until a paper flew from her hands and she noticed there was more than just the letter… she picked it up and…!

It was a DNA test: showing that, in fact, that baby was her’s and Phantasmo’s! And even more shockingly, it was from 10 years ahead!”

Aaaand that’s part one of this mini fic! If you all want a part two, i want you to give me 10 likes >:3 muhehehehe!

2° Version (the crack fic version):

“It was a very peaceful day: the birds were chirping, Barron was painting alongside with his niece, the people were buying and selling things… everything was very peaceful indeed in Telltown… except inside Dr. Phantasmo’s mansion… where things were… escalating chaotically:

Charlie has bursted into his lair effortlessly to “discuss” (translating to: beat the shit out of him) something:

Charlie: PHANTASMO YOU MOTHER FUCKER!

Phantasmo: What did i even do this time?!

Charlie: DON’T YOU PLAY DUMB WITH ME YOU SON OF A BITCH! LOOK AT THIS!

Charlie shows Phantasmo a positive pregnancy test, his jaw drops and he’s speechless for a solid 25 minutes… until he speaks again:

Phantasmo: but how do you even have conviction that the baby is mine?

Charlie: i was puking a lot and feeling really unwell. So, my brother said i should take a pregnancy test, at first i laughed it off, thinking that there was NO WAY i could be pregnant… but then i immediately took the test and here we are: I’m FUCKING pregnant of YOU!

Phantasmo: yeah, yeah, i got that you are pregnant. But how do YOU know for sure that the baby is mine? Also, stop shouting at me! Your voice annoys me…

Charlie: because, OBVIOUSLY, i then went to the hospital and took another test to see who was the father and it was saying it was you!

Phantasmo trying to remember how the fuck did he “impregnated” Charlie: Aahhh… remember when i tied you up and injected you with my DNA? Perhaps it could’ve been that-! AAAHHHH T-oby! Help me! This crazy woman is attacking me!

Then, both of them woke up in their respective homes:

Charlie: What fuck was that…? Thank god it was just a nightmare…

Phantasmo: God… what a fucking nightmare…”

Hello my dearies~! Today will be my last post for this year of 2023! (I live in Brazil, so the new year is a little bit more later than in other countries haha)

And to finish the year with a golden key, i decided to post my mini fic of why Oliver (my Oc) decided to give Phantasmo (Fluffpillow’s Oc) a present! 🎁

Hope y’all like it! ;D

“But why did you do it…?”

Oliver: ”…wait, so you’re telling me Phantasmo never got a present from ANYONE…?”

T-oby who was currently in the row of the Walmart talking with Oliver: ”uh, yeah…? Well, of course, aside from me and Viola… Phantasmo never got presents from anyone else. But, given his reputation with the townsfolk and also his “hatred” for Christmas… it… isn’t that surprising…”

Oliver: ”well then… i’ll make something really nice and special for him!”

T-oby with a worried smile: ”uhm, are you REALLY sure about that…? I mean, not really wanting to demotivate you but… you know he can easily kidnap you and torture you and-“

Oliver with a determined smile: “Y-yes… i know that but… there’s also this small possibility of him liking my present! :D”

T-oby: “Alright then: you do you but just so you know that if anything happens to you, I won’t be able to help you, got that? I can’t really go against my dad’s orders…”

Oliver giving T-oby a thumbs up while smiling: “Alright! I know, I know. Now if you excuse me, i have a VERY SPECIAL present to give to a certain ghost! See you later T-oby!”

T-oby giving Oliver a small smile: “See you later! Can’t wait to see what you’re gonna do for my dad!”

One knitting session later…

Oliver seeing Phantasmo all alone in a cemetery: *whispering with themselves* “Alright Oliver, you can do t-this!”

*Oliver approaches Phantasmo nervously*

Oliver visibly shaking with excitement and fear: “H-hi… m-m-mister Phantasmo…?”

Phantasmo giving Oliver a glare: “Hmm?”

Oliver slowly approaching the present towards Phantasmo: “Uhh, p-please…? A-accept m-my present…? Pretty p-please…?”

Phantasmo looking at Oliver with suspicion and talking down on them with contempt: “And who may you be…?”

Oliver scratching the back of their head nervously: “O-oh…! S-sorry…! I haven’t introduced myself: the name is Oliver and… i am a big fan of yours… hehe…”

Phantasmo: “Oh~? Really now? How… “nice”. Say: why on earth are you giving ME a… present?” *Phantasmo uses his ghost tail to put some distance between him and Oliver*

Oliver: “Uhhm… because i think everyone deserves a little bit of happiness…? And also because i… uhm…” *Oliver starts avoiding Phantasmo’s eye contact and starts blushing*

Phantasmo looks at Oliver confused for a second and then, realized what Oliver wanted to say. He then smirked smugly at them and used his ghost tail to bring Oliver closer to him: “Well, well, well~ who would have thought~? You like me like… that. Don’t you~? Hmm~?”

Oliver who became a blushing mess: “i… i…”

Phantasmo shushing Oliver: “Ah, ah, ah~ don’t be shy now, here, let’s take a look at what you did for me, shall we~?”

*Phantasmo takes the present from Oliver and opens it*

Phantasmo looking curiously at the pink sweater that Oliver made for him: “Ooohh~! What a nice color! And it has a faint smell of coffee to it~ say: who told you that i liked these two things? Oh, oh, let me guess: T-oby, right? Did i guessed it right~?”

Oliver sweating nervously: “Y-yes… s-sir… w-well, at least he told me that you like coffee scent… the color i guessed because your eyes are pink s-so… y-yeah… hahaha…”

*Phantasmo then started chuckling mischievously… until he grabbed Oliver’s face violently while grinning angrily at them*

Phantasmo: “Did you seriously thought that i… liked your pathetic present~?”

Oliver: “Well i-“

Phantasmo: “WELL, let ME answer you that: no, I didn’t like your stupid present! I don’t care, you hear that?, I. DON’T. CARE. About Y O U. I am a murderous, deranged and psychotic man! Do you, an annoying little lad, think i would “magically” turn into a nice guy just because you were nice to me~? HA! Please, don’t make laugh~”

*Phantasmo then tossed the gift box very far away and dropped Oliver into the ground. While still holding the sweater into his hands and grinning maniacally*

Phantasmo: “Well, i hope this was… memorable for you, because to me, honestly: i will purposely forget you~ now, bye~ and oh, don’t bother trying to annoy me again, next time i see you, i will turn you into one of my experiments~”

*Phantasmo then fades away from Oliver’s view. Leaving them all alone in the cemetery… Oliver sighs sadly, readjust their glasses and gets up to leave the cemetery*

Meanwhile at the doctor’s mansion…

T-oby: “Ohhh! What’s that dad? Did Oliver gave you a sweater? Nice! And ohoho! Guess he guessed right your favorite color too! Did you thanked them?”

Phantasmo passing through T-oby with a neutral expression while holding the present that Oliver gave him: “. . .No.”

T-oby gasping: “Dad! You can’t be rude to the ONLY person who is nice to YOU! That’s it! You’re going to thank them on the new year!”

Phantasmo looking at T-oby with a mocking smile: “Really now~? And HOW do YOU plan on making me~?”

T-oby smirking triumphantly: “You do know that, without ME, you can’t work on ANYTHING… right?”

Phantasmo: “. . .I hate you. . .”

After the new year…

*Oliver listens a knock on their door and goes to open it*

Oliver: “Hello, how may i help you…?”

*Phantasmo was standing at their doorstep, with the pink sweater on and a letter on his floating hands*

Phantasmo: “Ahem… just… take it…”

*Oliver then grabbed the letter and opened it to read it*

Oliver reading the letter out loud: “My neighbor Oliver-“

*Phantasmo shushing Oliver and telling them to not read the letter out loud*

Oliver apologizing and returning to read the letter, but this time, much quieter: “My neighbor Oliver, have you know that i didn’t exactly hated your present… but don’t get any funny ideas from my approval of your present: i simply didn’t hated it. Sincerely, Dr. Phantasmo…”

Phantasmo starting to blush lightly: “T-that’s it… don’t expect more than this…”

Oliver smiling warmly at Phantasmo: “Would you like to stay a little bit longer for some coffee?”

Phantasmo scratching the back of his head and pulling his collar shyly: “Y-yes… i… that would be… lovely.”

The Wizengamot is out for blood—never mind the fact they'd all pretty much lain down and let Voldemort take over the Ministry only months before. There are rumours gathering speed, snowballing, with speculation splashed across every front page: the youngest Death Eater and heir to one of Britain's oldest wizarding families, Draco Malfoy, is facing life in Azkaban.

Harry gatecrashes the trial.

"This isn't the future we fought for," he yells in their old, papery faces. He points a furious hand at the lone, pale figure, shaking in the stands. "This isn't the future I fucking died for!"

And surely, he thinks, surely that should be enough.

But the court is adjourned. Harry almost refuses to leave, but then Malfoy is taken away, his eyes—wild, sunken, panicked—meeting Harry's across the room one last time before he's forced out of sight. Harry is politely warned by the on-duty aurors not to disrupt court proceedings again.

Well, fuck them, he thinks angrily. That's one letter of offer he'll be tearing to shreds.

Next he goes to the Prophet. The young clerk takes one open-mouthed look at Harry and immediately sends him up to the editor-in-chief.

The following morning, a new headline blazes down Diagon Alley: CHOSEN ONE CALLS FOR CLEMENCY.

Two long weeks of sleepless nights later, the verdict is announced. When the courtroom doors open, Harry is waiting. Malfoy stares at him.

"I hear you're looking for a place to stay."

His assets are seized, his parents are exiled, but Draco Malfoy is a free man.

He wets his lips. "Looks like it."

"Here," Harry says, tossing him the invisibility cloak; the press are absolutely rabid outside. Malfoy catches it. "I've got a spare room."

Future 🏛️ Day 15 of @peachydreamxx and @uncannycerulean’s prompts. Full collection on ao3.

My heart!!!!! Oh...😍💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

so okay, just picture this for a second real quick 

derek shifting into wolf!derek on the back porch of the rebuilt hale house with stiles by his side, and their daughter giggling next to them, clapping her small hands together because “daddy went doggy!” 

derek can’t even feel any form of irritation about the fucking dog joke because it came from his daughter, who is happier than ever, making grabby hands at stiles, squealing “up, up, up!” 

and derek, just, he’s fucking wagging his tail for fuck’s sake because how could he not when he has everything in the world right there next to him: his daughter wrapping her arms around his furry neck, giggling in his ear, stiles absolutely beaming at the both of them, looking dazed and awed, eyes full of absolute love

derek can’t help but whine, overwhelmed with all the fucking emotions, and just butts his big head against stiles’ stomach, trembling when he feels hands so familiar slide over the top of his head, scratching and rubbing just behind his right ear

a huff of air leaves derek as if he’s trying to explain everything in that one breath, and stiles, stiles just knows, understands the meaning, and whispers back with a knowing smile on his face, “i know, big guy. we love you, too.”

I am just....😭🥹💖💖💖💖💖

Newly bitten, Stiles kills the alpha that turned him and becomes the Alpha. He’s losing control, angry, and scared, and his best friend, the True Alpha Scott McCall won’t help him. Stiles killed someone, and that’s just not how they do it. 

Desperate, and terrified he’ll hurt his fragile human dad who is trying to help him when he has no one else, Stiles calls the one person he trusts to guide him: Derek Hale. 

Derek doesn’t have a pack. He hasn’t in years, and hasn’t been back to Beacon Hills for just as long, but he and Stiles had always kept in contact, even if it was texts, pictures, and short videos, and he owed Stiles his life many times over.

The Stilinski pack is small: a hyperactive alpha that can’t stop scenting his pack, a grumpy beta that doesn’t mind so much, and badass Sheriff that wants to protect them from the world. It’ll get easier, hopefully.

On the Order of the Phoenix

At some point in time between the third task in GoF and Harry getting picked up during the summer the Order of the Phoenix was called back into existence and subsequently moved into Grimmauld Place.

Presumably, Dumbledore vouched for Sirius' innocence around that time as otherwise I doubt Molly Weasley would allow her children in that place and Sirius would probably get attacked by three competent aurors at varying stages of their careers.

Speaking of which:

Three competent aurors with a drive to do good (as evident in their joining a militia against Riddle) learned of Sirius' innocence and wrongful incarceration. And not one of them did anything about the gross miscarriage of justice under their noses. Which sounds off to me.

We have a very young auror at the beginning of her career and a blood relation to Sirius, so overall with very limited influence on the topic in Tonks. A retired auror known to be close with Dumbledore, who is subject to a smear campaign at that point, and a known paranoid bastard in Mad-Eye Moody. And an auror established in his career in Kingsley Shaklebolt. In my eyes the most likely candidate to attempt something.

From what we see of Kingsley he is well respected in the Ministry and regarded by the Minister himself. Fudge brings him along to try and arrest Dumbledore later in the year which speaks to a certain level of social and political aptitute. Additional evidence in this direction are Kingsley being appointed magical bodyguard to the muggle PM during Scrimgeour's term and Kingsley's own election to Minister of Magic following the Battle of Hogwarts. So we can assume him to be well-connected and able to raise topics at opportune moments in a way accessible to his audience.

The Ministry at this point in time is having an awful time and has been for pretty exactly two years. Starting with Sirius' escape, which rattled faith in Azkaban, the dementors and the aurors specifically who failed to re-apprehend him. Continuing with the repeated issues with the dementors at Hogwarts. Continuing on further with the embarassment of the Quidditch World Cup being overrun by deatheaters. And finally, most recently, the desaster the Triwizard Tournament ended up being with the UK having two champions, audience-unfriendly tasks, a judge disappearing, a champion dying and finally the claims the magical world's latest terrorist was returning from the presumed dead. And of course, the initial escapee was still on the run. The Ministry was scrambling to at least appear in control of everything, both domestically and internationally. Hence the attempts to discredit Dumbledore and Harry as the other regional public figures and seize control over Hogwarts.

Kingsley could absolutely go up to the ambitious Scrimgeour, I doubt his aspirations were unknown, and suggest building a small task force to catch Sirius Black. After all, the Ministry and especially the Aurors needed a win in the public eye and with all the other things going on Black wouldn't expect it. So if he could maybe have access to all files pertaining Black? The potential for Fudge becoming the scapegoat for all the recent troubles and Scrimgeour emerging as a new and trusted leader based on achievements remains unsaid yet is understood by all.

Potentially Scrimgeour takes the idea and runs with it himself. After all, the Ministry is adamant about aurors not being actively needed at the moment, he has the time. And he reads every single document on the case Black. Including any trial records and evidence filed. Which is astonishingly little.

Concerningly little.

Promisingly little.

Especially since Fudge was personally involved in the case and has been publicly bragging about it (see PoA in the Three Broomsticks). So it would very naturally reflect badly especially on Fudge and his administration if Black's guilt were to be re-exmined. And Scrimgeour himself would not only be a fresh face, but one righting the wrongs of his predecessors. With the support of a notorious house if the only surviving bearer of the name Black owed him a favour. It would also neatly subvert the issue called Potter. He'd probably be very busy getting acclimated to a new godfather if custody was transferred from that muggle family. Fewer claims of a second coming of that bloody bastard. All the better. Smear campaigns against children were never a good look on anyone. Now to get that innocence established, weren't there statements Fudge ignored last year...

Kingsley is very happy to stand back and watch self-interest get the right thing done. Scrimgeour would remember who gave him the idea and the Order would gain a powerful supporter and fighter. Wins across the board in his book.

TL;DR: Kingsley not doing something about Sirius' innocence is bullshit. Especially not when at that point everybody was ready to see Fudge go and establishing Sirius as innocent would be a perfect thing for him to fall over. Political intrigue accidentally fixing problems ensues

I love this addition so much!!!!!

This scenario would inherently be Jedi friendly I think. Because this Anakin is suspicious and the Jedi prove time and time again that they are not that kind of master and do not chip people. That doesn’t happen by being neglectful or systematically disadvantaging people.

Even then, however, I am not too sure that Anakin would admit to or share this particular habit with anybody even in therapy. After all, if they know this is how he checks, they might get sneaky.Maybe he learns about the concept of compulsion via a different manifestation of his trauma and applies the same logic to his scanners? Still, Vokara would probably know as well and happily indulge his focus on medical scanners without showing her knowledge. She knows this kid’s scanner designs. He won’t hurt anybody. So three people know about Anakin’s habit. Only one of them knows about all three. Maybe, to get to your absolutely wonderfully drawn up scene, she shares that info with him upon his knighting.

Can we talk about the emotional journey here though???? IT’S GENIUS!

“sheesh I really have some solid compulsion, maybe I should get onto that after this war?” to “wait what? I found something?” to “Dear Obi-Wan and Council, we have a problem” to “you said they were free” to “you keep slaves. i trusted you and you keep slaves bred for war”

Everything I wanted out of this and you put it into words in such a compelling way.

You are amazing. This is amazing. Somebody write this!

Imagine an Anakin Skywalker who is freed from his slave chip, but doesn’t rest until he has built a scanner and checked for himself.

Imagine an Anakin Skywalker who only relaxes in the Jedi order once he was able to sneakily scan every Padawan in reach for a chip. They call their teachers “Master”, but they are not kept through explosives.

Proving absence is hard, so every year Anakin builds a new and more detailed scanner and tests it on himself and Obi-Wan and the crechelings and and and. Obi-Wan is the only one who notices Anakin’s continued occupation with chips. Anybody with less exposure, who doesn’t see Anakin fiddle with metal detectors and density measurements on the daily, who doesn’t clean Anakin’s small work station if the scraps tower too high, will not learn about it. Or, to be fair, who did not wake up in the middle of the night of Anakin’s padawanship anniversary to a child sneaking into one’s bedroom, scan one’s supposedly sleeping body, and sneak back out again for three years and counting. About this, Anakin does not talk, he acts. So Obi-Wan talks to Vokara Che and gets his padawan access to all medical equipment and himself a handbook on mechanics. He wants to support his student and give him room to expand his knowledge.

Both Anakin’s skill and the machines in the Halls of Healing improve significantly.

But still Anakin builds a new scanner every year. Still he checks every new dynamic for a chip as subtly as he can. He may not be a subtle conversationalist, but he can do sleight of hand.

As much as it pains him to suspect, he doesn’t rest until he checks Padme’s servants once he meets her again. Her as well, just for good measure.

And when he is knighted with the start of a war and placed in charge of a group of identical looking men bred for combat, he scans his captain. Who has something in his brain. As do the other squad leaders. And the medics. And every other clone he gets close enough to in the hallways.

Nothing good comes from chips in people.

Nothing.

So he does something about it. And on this, he does not sway.

How the hell did the Weasleys seemingly just bounce back at the end of Chamber of Secrets? Until OotP Ginny having been possessed, kidnapped, used to almost murder multiple other students, and nearly murdered herself isn’t mentioned. at. all.

I can almost understand Arthur, Molly, Bill, and Charlie. The latter two are very removed from the situation thanks to literal physical distance and Arthur and Molly are some of Dumbledore’s most devout followers, so while they have a sense of the scale thanks to “basilisk” they are easily reassured that the danger has passed. It helps that a) wizarding society is creepily cool with a lot of dangerous nonsense in general b) they have no clue what horcruxes are, so the possessing diary is written off and c) Harry Potter was responsible for solving the situation aka the designated knight in shining armour figure for the entire society.

But what about Percy, the twins, and Ron? They carry the guilt that their youngest sibling could be possessed for hours at a time without them knowing, they know Harry well enough to see a person (and even more importantly, a child) and not the Boy-Who-Lived, and they saw how the adults utterly failed to keep them safe when literal pre-teens could figure everything out.

So how about an UA in which the younger Weasley children do not get over everything within a summer and a lottery-won vacation, but carry shadows in their eyes. The boys independently keep checking on Ginny until she explodes at them, because this kind of support is opressing to her. They band together, doing mental headcounts every once in a while until they have an instinctual awareness of each other. 

Ginny and Ron especially are rarely far from the other, united by having been in the chamber. It is written off as the youngest being close.

Fred and George grow less likely to rile their siblings up. Their eyes are still as sharp, but their jokes are designed to check in, to cheer up. They circle around their little siblings reminiscent of their tactics on the Quidditch pitch, ready to protect them at any moment and in any direction. Fred and George start teaching their most distracting charms in stolen hidden moments at the Burrow. Hogwarts failed to protect their youngest, Fred and George are not going to let that stand. Their sudden gentleness to Ron and Ginny is encouraged as them growing up.

Percy finds himself with a shattered faith in the system, no, the people filling it. He watches the twins teaching spells with hidden barbs and can’t find it in himself to care about future chaos. He runs interference, distracting the rest of the family with detailed questions on anything he can think of and he can think of plenty. He covers and then he joins, explaining patterns in organization and how to work with around With the rules. So what if he enables his siblings’ mayhem? What good is a system when it fails to protect his family? He doubles down on study: law books, schoolbooks, treaties, protocols. He smiles and preens and shows off his new Head Boy badge and talks about working for the Ministry while learning any and every loophole he can offer as escape routes and how to eventually change the very foundation of his world. His plans are applauded as following a respectable path and promising career.

Ginny takes to the twin’s teaching like a duck to water. She takes glee in every successful beam of light shooting from her wand and evaporating the twig she is practicing on. Every trap prank the twins fall into builds her confidence. She returns to Hogwarts with her head high and tricks up her sleeves and her brothers at her back. She tackles classes and learns to turn classmates pestering on them. Her eyes roam the halls for the unprotected and those who would abuse it. She knows what they look like. She is not letting that happen on her watch. Adults worry over how easily she seems to overcome the last year, but her new connections with classmates cause relief.

Ron needs a moment to figure out he is in the protected innermost circle instead of a layer of protection. Somehow, he doesn’t mind as much as he would have months ago. Where Ginny obliterates targets, he listens to Percy and picks up patterns in the rulings and how to force a specific reaction. He applies chess strategy to students, professors, apparently a mass murderer after his friend. He sees patterns in Fred and George’s tricks and points out flaws and new angles. He knows whatever he will find himself in, he has his siblings at his disposal and they will heed his call. His knight brothers, the twins ever unpredictable and quick to strike, his rook in Percy, ever the reliable cover. Ginny is still unshapen, but he can see the bishop in her straight-forwardness, a queen in her power. He draws Harry into the fold, his friend, his rook, his king, his to protect with his other siblings. Hermione is drawn in as well, his friend, the researcher, his bishop. They are his, the pieces that make up his heart,  and he will be damned if he looses them. His sudden uptick in grades and lack of temperamental outbreaks are welcomed. The way he eyes the world and points his questions cause wariness in his parents.

TL;DR: UA in which the younger Weasley children are more (?) traumatized by Chamber of Secrets and start seeing the world as an adversary and band together as a force of nature.

Bruce and Diana standing off in the distance at Clark’s funeral in BVS looking cunty as fuck with their long black wool coats and sharp jawlines talking to each other dramatically must have been TOO MUCH for the small-town gossip mill, I’m telling you.

Clark: Can you please just hold still? Do you want to bleed all over the bathroom?

Bruce: Are you sure you know what you’re doing?

Clark: Trust me, I’ve seen Alfred bandage you enough times to know how to do it with my eyes closed. Seriously Bruce, I can’t believe you! Were you really going to silently sit through the meeting while you’re bleeding out from your ripped stitches?

Bruce: Ugh, spare me the lecture and just help me. We need to get back to the meeting soon. I don’t need to give your boss any more reason to give me dirty looks across the room.

Clark: That’s just Perry’s default expression.

The door to the bathroom opens and someone steps in. Bruce immediately yanks Clark in close to block his injuries from view. Clark slams his hands on either side of him with a grunt, careful not to crush him.

Jimmy: Clark? [stares at the half-dressed Bruce underneath him] Mr Wayne??

Clark: J-Jimmy!

Bruce: [angrily whispering to Clark] You forgot to lock the door didn’t you? Get rid of him. Now.

Clark: Jimmy, this is not what it looks like! Me and Mr Wayne uhh… We’re just uhh…

Bruce: [Moans when Clark accidentally brushes against his wound]

Jimmy: Umm…

Clark: [whispering] Sorry!

Bruce: Hi Jimmy~ Care to join the fun?

Jimmy: N-No! Sorry to interrupt you guys! I-I mean, I don’t think I need to use the bathroom after all. See you around, bye! [flees the bathroom]

a fic where bruce and clark for some reason get into a hilarious “marry or die” situation but then don’t actually separate and just end up falling in love. 

but also because

“we can also just divorce, clark,” 

“bruce what about your money and assets i dont want you to lose half of that”

“i won’t be losing it it’ll be going to you”

“I DON’T WANT THE MONEY” 

“too bad the life and death scenario didn’t let us sign a prenup” 

“I DON’T WANT A DIVORCE OK”

“alright that’s settled then. i’ll be home by 6pm. good luck at work. bye honey.”

clark swallows all nervous, hot and bothered. “….h-honey…?” he actually kinda likes the sound of bruce calling him honey.