#obscurus!verse

[sejianismodding]

🌸 Unique "TagValueNumbers" - Part 3 🎁 For my "CAS Filters" mod! (Patreon)

Tumblr appears to have a limit for how many users I can @ in a post, but I would like to @ everyone on Tumblr when I create filters for them, as a way to notify you about what I'm doing and so simmers who see this post can find you easily.

I might come off as an egomaniacal arsehole at times (always for good reason), but it's because I care about our community.

I opted to not re-blog the Tumblr OP linked above because it is subject to lots of changes and Tumblr doesn't update the "preview" of re-blogged posts, HOWEVER, you're more than welcomed to re-blog the Tumblr OP and/or this post.

🌸 A UNIQUE 9-DIGIT "ID" FOR EVERYONE:

The 9-digit numbers following your name are to be used in the "TagValueNumber" field for the "SpecialContent" TAG.

Each 9-digit "ID" is unique to the creator it was made for - it is based on your creator name. I made them using a slightly convoluted system I devised in order to ensure that every "ID" is unique and that the filter list in CAS maintains some semblance of alphabetical order. These "numbers"IDs" can potentially be used for other things, but we'll get to that later.

🎓 HOW IT DO, PIKACHU:

If you're well-versed in creating or modifying CAS content, all you need to do is add a new TAG to your swatches - you can do just the first swatch, but you should do all swatches - and change the "CategoryNumber" to "127" (without the quotes), and change the "TagValueNumber" to the desired 9-digit "ID".

For everyone else who is new to this, there are detailed instructions in the form of easy to follow screenshots attached to the Tumblr OP and the Patreon OP, with further text-based instructions in the Patreon OP.

Individual JSON files for Sims 4 Studio for each filter TAG are also available, to make the process of adding these TAGS easier.

✂️ BE ADVISED - I SHORTENED TWO (2) NAMES:

@bigbotched -- 202682433

@bradfordsims -- 202723367

@briorsims -- 202746700

@dahliaforsims -- 304245420

@davidheather -- 304284343

@dream-girl -- 304732644

@dustbunnyforsims -- 304878286

@eachuisge-cc -- 305224847

@ekinege-sims (TSR)-- 305546343

@gasetsims -- 407273800

@helgatisha -- 408354284

@ice-creamforbreakfast -- 409232732

@jforjacobs -- 510226270

@jius-sims -- 510487746

@joshseoh -- 510674736

@kijiko-sims -- 511454560

@klubbsims -- 511582200

@luuforyou -- 512883679

@maskxo -- 613275000

@merchsims -- 613372400

@mogulsims -- 613648500

@moralleets -- 613672553

@northernsiberiawinds -- 614678437

@novemberforsims -- 614683623

@obscurus-sims -- 615272878

@offlinesims -- 615335463

@paresims -- 716273000

@poxsims -- 716690000

@poyopoyosim -- 716696769

@ramasalon -- 718262000

@sashima -- 719274462

@smsims-evekleos -- 719674670

Stealthic (Patreon) -- 719832584

@tajlibracreations -- 820255427

@thekunstwollen -- 820435867

—

—

[depressed-simmer]

Aniyah Smith - Sim Dump

Meet Aniyah as Infant, toddler and child. 

💖 Thanks to all the creators that made this possible, specially ThisIsThem for creating these amazing skins, @cecesimsxo for the infant and toddler´s hairs and @ebonixsims for the child hair.

CREDITS: Yooniesim, Jius, Kijiko, Nessassims, Obscurus, MysteriousOo, Lillka, Kupid, Giulietta Sims, Passionate, NorthernSiberiaWinds, Sims4Boutique, RobertaPLobo, SimLocker, Littletodds, RemusSirion, Pink Simz, McLayneSims, Beto_ae0, CoCo Games, Ebonix, Gawdly Games, GoppolsMe, K'S KUSTOMZ X HARDSWAE, Joliebean, Madlen, Rdheadsims, Maytaiii, Vintage-simmer, Trillqueenn, sims3melancholic, Rebekhanasims, Sims 4 Nexus, Simiracle, CeceSims XO, VICCS, Vittler Verse, Pralinesims, Sforzinda and more.

DOWNLOAD HERE (Early Access: 04/03/24)

[luxobscurus]

LUX , LIGHT . OBSCURUS , DARK . to have one is to have the other , two sides of the same coin , a constant battle of the heart & the mind . an eternal battle , a seemingly impossible balance , will there ever be peace ? or will it be a war , eternal & damning , a cycle that will never end .

#LUXOBSCURUS , an independent , headcanon based & canon divergent , mutuals focused kingdom hearts multi - muse . adored by Eden , 30 , they / he . can also be found on @arcanepromise & @jinxedcycle

at the moment , the muses that can be found on this blog are EPHEMER , AQUA , VENTUS , SORA , RIKU , & AN OC BY THE NAME OF KANAE . knowing how impulsive i can be , however , i will likely end up adding more .

please read below for more information while i get the blog set up , thank you !

when it comes to this blog , please understand that i have work & as a result , activity will be sporadic . i struggle to focus on one thing for too long & while i love rp & have been doing it for literal years , if i don't feel like it in the moment , i'm not going to try to force it & sour both of our experiences .

i've written characters from kingdom hearts for well over a decade now . i have headcanons spanning years . i'm not new to this rodeo . i do not agree with nomura's timeline of events , & as a result , my characters ages differ from canon & i will write more on these at a later date . at the end of kh3 , ventus is physically 19 , sora is 18 , riku is 19 , aqua would technically be in her late 20's if she wasn't stuck in the realm of darkness . ephemer is the odd one out , as he lives his own life after founding scala ad caelum , so any potential verses where it's in scala ad caelum , or post - kh3 , he will be 21 . DESPITE THIS , no nsfw will be found on this blog .

i am multi - ship ! all ships will happen in their own universe as a result , so there'll be no overlap unless previously discussed between all parties . i do prefer to have a connection established & multiple threads below our belts before we try & ship our muses together , though . the only exceptions to this are if you knew me in the past & i can count those people on one hand . again , there'll be no nsfw on this blog .

basic human decency applies , no racism , homophobia , transphobia , sexism , etc , will be permitted on this blog . i don't associate myself with drama , but i reserve the right to block as i see fit , especially if you take part in what's listed above / it's brought to my attention about someone else .

dark topics may appear on this blog , such as violence , depression , anxiety , child soldiers , suicidal ideations , etc . i will do my best to tag obvious triggers with "tw trigger" ( without the quotations ) but if i miss one , or we're mutuals & you need something tagged , please let me know . in my experience , there's nothing too silly to be counted as a trigger .

icon border is from @faegfx & coloring psd is from here , atm !

[agbpaints]

"Knowledge without understanding is as dangerous to the disciple as ignorance itself. Those who glimpse that they do not understand fall to illogic. Illogic must not be tolerated."

- Meditations on the Unknowable, 976th revision.

Security Signum: Vermillion

Additional Materials Appended: Pict-capture 1

Additional Materials Appended: while the most visible members of the Collegiate Extremis to me and my colleagues are frequently their procurator agents, the organization does maintain their own militias of constructs and cyborgs when open conflict is needed and local forgeworld assets cannot be directly commandeered. The Templars Obscurus are one such military order, dedicated to a particularly necessary blasphemy in the Colegiate's work, the destruction of knowledge. Suspect dark mechanicum elements and more radical members of the mechanicus frequently deal in information which can be hazardous to simply perceive, let alone remember (something our order is similat versed in), so these Skitarii are designed to best shield them and their masters from possible memetic hazards.

Picked only from the most zealous of the legions, Obscurus storm troopers are excised from the Mechanicus noosphere and stripped of all forms of vox equipment to prevent contaminants from spreading quickly. Additionally, a complex series of psychosurgeries partitions their long term memory into a series of read-only directives set physically by mechanicus datasmiths while preventing them from retaining new memories for longer than a few days. These necessary handicaps are redeemed by a nearly unprecedented level of personal autonomy for a mechanicus construct and considerable material advantages in the wargear they are provided. Whip blades and flamers seem standard issue for their efficacy at sending a message to dissident sects, but I've observed Templars Obscurus armed with radium, plasma, and grav weapons, as well as a wide and esoteric variety of close combat tools.

Tau-Sigma 10924-a was seconded to me for my current investigations on Aprec Secundus. Their presence is unerving, even for me, and I can't help shake the feeling that Magos Cuthea intends to use them to spy on me despite her assurances. However, their effectiveness in combat cannot be overstated and their presence has been gently mandated by the Fane-Quorum, so for now I can simply watch and collect further data

=]Φ[=

[mikovision]

L's backstory has always been one of my favourite things to write about in the DN fandom and my hyperfixation for the last year or so has been constructing our favourite detective's family tree for my trans!L verse. Without further ado, meet L's parents.

Katsuo Ryuzaki - Born in Kawatana, Japan, and raised by strict Catholic converts, Katsuo's early childhood was an unhappy one, marred with abuse, isolation, and a deep rooted fear of outsiders. That was until his parents decided he needed to be "straightened out" and arranged to send him to live with family friend, Quillsh Wammy, every summer in Tokyo. Rather than Bible studies, Quillsh nurtured Katsuo's talents and exposed him to the world of knowledge he had been denied. When he was eighteen, Katsuo emigrated to England to study at the University of Winchester to study philosophy.

Anya Markova - Russo-Ukranian Anya was born in Kazan, and lived under the fist of her abusive stepfather until she was fourteen, when she was sent to live with her aunt in England. Intelligent beyond her years, she excelled in school, and went on to study biology at the University of Winchester, where she met her future partner, Katsuo Ryuzaki. Tragically, Anya died young, but that's all I'm going to say for now.

I'm currently in the process of writing these two and their love story. It's complex, tragic, and beautiful all at the same time. It also isn't a coincidence that L's mother's name starts with an A.

Mods listed under cut

[Katsuo]

Decades Lookbook - The 1980's by mmcc lookbook

Callisto Hair by Viviandang

N18 skin by obscurus-sims

Elder Male Skin by RemusSirion

Smooth Business Hair by wingssims

Aqua Trigger Eyes by RubyBird

[Anya]

Trisha T-Shirt by clumsyalienn

Camila Pants by clumsyalienn

Samantha Sweater by clumsyalienn

Eloise Skirt by clumsyalienn

Melody Necklace by clumsyalienn

Female Skin 19 by RemusSirion

Aqua Trigger Eyes by RubyBird

The source for her hair appears to have been removed, but it was made by S-Club on TSR.

[three-o-nine-warehouse]

I am an ass. Here are some dragons I made for Amino because I am terrible at scheduling and the actual piece I wanted to make for this month is probably gonna end up my Halloween piece instead.

Edit: I also forgot the damn wing flap on one of them. Guess which one that is.

[evening-rose-309]

[This has been sitting in my drafts for a month. I had plans for it, I think, and didn't get around to finishing it, but I think it works better as it is.]

The hair gel was out. That old, smelly, gooey, unsightly blend that sat in their shared medicine cabinet by the sink like a horrible little toad stool. Was. Out.

And Newt would be damned if he didn't sing the Meisters praises and make the most of it.

"Mmmm," he mumbled into the untouched floof of Gellert's ivory puffs. "You smell good."

His lover chuckled. Not a drunk chuckle, not a vain chuckle, not the chuckle reserved for bratty ministers' sons when they came to ask for favors. A musical sound, rare as the hymn of an elated augurey, short and sweet and all too pleasant singularly made in moments of utter bliss, peace, and quiet. And or when the twins would decide to knock down a whole forest or Antonio would sprint himself full force into a wall of bricks, but this was good too.

"Don't get used to it," the dark lord hummed, which only served to burrow him deeper into the fluffs, lamb's wool wefts tickling his cheeks and filling his nose with strawberry shampoo afterscent. Newt sighed contentedly. If only. If only indeed.

[evening-rose-309]

Ava ♠ 50% work work work what is life, 25% I will murder you with a stick, 10% bad decisions, 10% griffindor mess , 5% daddy's girl

Bill ♠ 30% mom friend, 20% good bro, 20% crack shot, 20% you touch my wife I kill you, 10% C A L M

Magda ♠ 50% tequila aunt, 20% gives a whole lot of fuck, 20% gin rum repeat, 10% "I don't care if my nephew's a murderer, his mother was a bitch!"

Describe your OC with percentages (ex.: 20% bad puns, 30% caffeine, 50% anxiety…)

[idumean-archive]

@ofangelicblood​​ touched Jonathan’s wings. 

      out of everyone in the Institute, the other is the only one who knows the rumors of his wingless state aren’t true - that he has them, or at least that he did at one time, but he’s grateful the other has kept that little grain of truth to himself. it’s hard enough, knowing they’re there & they’re all but useless. having to suffer through everyone else’s pity... the idea disgusts him. even so, he blinks when he feels gentle hands working through his wings, setting the feather’s in order & soothing rumpled areas with care. ‘ you’re back early, ’ he murmurs, legs gently kicking against the stone of the Institute’s roof as he looks over the city. ‘ is anyone else up here with you? I’d rather them not... ’ he gestures to the wings Jace is running his fingers over, a small, fond smile on his lips. ‘ this is a view just for you. ’

[idumean]

tag drop iii. verses (ii)

[evening-rose-309]

~Obscurus!Grindelwald 2019

(617): I don’t suppose you have a recipe for a cocktail made of bitter resignation, regretting everything, poor life decisions and deep-seated self-loathing?

[forgottenlestrange]

@loathedlineage

“You've been acting a bit ODD lately, Amelia. I've heard you talking in your room… but you're always alone. Sometimes, it doesn't even SOUND like you. Is there something you'd like to tell me?”

[thatsecondsalemboy]

Do you think it's possible for Credence to be "cured" or able to live a long life with the obscurus? What sort of methods/ideas do you have that would give him a longer life or remove the obscurus entirely that you might want to explore for your Crede?

Logically speaking, I think it's a tricky one to answer. To me it seems that canonically if they progress his story they're likely going down the lines of it killing him, in the way that some parasites do where they take more and more of the host until it can longer sustain them (which isn't quite typical of parasites, given that killing the host will kill the parasite). They seemed very firm of that idea in SoD, given that in Crimes of Grindelwald, Dumbledore said this:

"I know this: an Obscurus grows in the absence of love as a dark twin, an only friend. If Credence has a real brother or sister out there who can take its place, he might yet be saved."

Looking back on this quote it seems a little odd, given we've already been told how an obscurus forms from an individual being punished for and attempting to repress their magic, and certainly the description doesn't really seem to match another obscurial we know about (Ariana) given I would be loath to say that Ariana wasn't loved. Nonetheless in CoG, Albus seems to posit that essentially the presence of someone to love and care for him might reduce the obscurus (again seems negated by Ariana's situation but it's interesting) but by SoD he seems to have given up on that.

Perhaps the idea is that it's too late, that the obscurus has gained too much ground over Credence to ever heal, but I still feel the fact that he's survived thirty odd years whenever the usual is a third of that is something to be considered.

Of course, all this being said, I definitely want to and plan to create verses wherein Credence is either cured, or finds a way to live with the obscurus, perhaps not living a full lifespan, but at least gaining more time. Be that through the concept offered in CoG, that someone to love and care might reduce or reverse the damage, or perhaps through finding some way to live alongside it in a sort of symbiotic relationship (which is what Credence in SoD kind of reminds me, it strikes me as somewhat of a more balanced relationship, save for the whole killing him thing). The concept of removing it completely could be premise for a potentially angsty thread involving weighing up the risk of removing it vs leaving it.

Alongside that, I think I'd really like to explore the concept of the obscurus as the dark twin described in CoG, that it's less to do with just being punished for magic, but also the isolation that comes from that trauma, with the obscurus almost being its own independent entity.

Anyway jesus this got long.

[obscurebelief]

FIRST MEETINGS MEME   A meme for first meetings and introduction threads, aka a ‘What you will notice about my muse first’ cheat sheet. Repost, don’t reblog. Bold what applies. Fill in details.     (Please do not remove the credit + blank meme link)    

tagged by stolen from:  @ashortdropandasuddenstop

tagging: anyone who wants to

blank meme: x

GENERAL APPEARANCE

Sex: Male.  

Race: European Caucasian

Complexion: Pale

Height: 5′11

Body Type: Ectomorph.  

Body Build:  Thin

Body Hair: terminal dark

Head Hair:  Long and silky dark

Eye color: Dark brown (Whiite when angry/overwhelmed/ or when the Obscurus is about to come out)

Scars: Many, most on his back and palms. Other scars are future or verse dependent

FASHION

Fashion Style: Chic, Vintage, or Casual

Color Palette: Black, dark colors

Typical Clothing: Black suit, dress pants.

Piercings: none (for now)

Tattoos: none (for now)

Other Information: none

EXPRESSION

General Facial Expression: Neutral, Angry, Sad, Afraid from loud sudden sounds (more in FB1)

Default Body Language: Guarded most of the time, hard to read, tense

General Movements:  Stands up straight, putting arms behind his back, sometimes slouches and has his head lowered and eyes looking at the ground (mainly pre-SoD)

NOTABLE FOR RP

Presence:  Cold, guarded, intimidating. Relaxed more, gentle, kind when alone or knows and trusts someone.

Appearance:  Usually clean shaven and well dressed. On his more sicker days, struggles to stand, paler with blackening veins and withering skin.

Scent:  Herbs like sage, lavender, and peppermint. Pine and winter snow due to Nurmengard Castle. Blood and Smoke sometimes after hunting down and killing someone.

Voice Description:  Deep, sometimes quiet.

Accent: yes / no

Speech Mannerisms:  Formal, quiet.

Anything else to add? 

[loathedlineage-a]

Amelia Potter + obscurial au

                           ❝  i can feel it ... inside of me.                                            i want it out-- get it out! … ❞

[sk1fanfiction]

Hello! I saw that you reblogged the "I wish you would write a fic where..." post, and I have two ideas for the Running From My Destiny verse that might make neat scenes. The first I can't really make a summary for since it's such a general idea, but I'd really like to see a Quirrellmort POV. For the second one:

Malfada Prewett meets the Weasleys. This... does not go as well as her parents thought it would, even if they didn't have particularly high hopes.

OR

Malfada absolutely does not get along with her cousins; she loves them anyways, though.

I hope the prompt(s) is(are?) fun! It's cool that you're doing this; it seems like it'd be an interesting experience. Have a nice night! :)

Thanks so much for the prompts! They were both very cool ideas! Hope you have a nice morning/afternoon/night as well!

ᑫᑌIᖇᖇEᒪᒪᗰOᖇT/TᑌᖇᑎIᑎG TO ᗩᔕᕼEᔕ

(spark)

Quirinus Quirrell surveyed his classroom, then glanced down at his attendance sheet, running a shaking finger down his list of names.

“P-Parkinson, P-Pansy?”

“Here, Professor.”

“P-Patil, P-P-Parvati?”

He’d always been ashamed of his stutter. There wasn’t a time he remembered not feeling afraid of his own voice. He expected peers, now students, to laugh at him and make him feel smaller and smaller, until he was annhilated.

“Here, sir.”

He pushed his reading glasses up his nose and focused on the next name.

His heartbeat stuttered in his ears. Something seemed to click. To focus. And when he spoke, his voice was as composed and steady as he’d always dreamed.

“Potter, Harry.”

“Present, sir.”

He could not help but look up at the speaker. But it wasn’t as if he was one looking. Rather, someone or something else had nudged their way to the front of his brain, gazing at the small first-year in the second row, scrawny, bespectacled and overall unremarkable, except for the round-rimmed glasses and bright green eyes that seemed to stir some distant memory, as if he had seen them both on another person.

Dead. And yet he felt more alive than ever.

He shuddered, and moved on, taking note of the remaining few Gryffindor and Slytherin students.

(ember)

It had been mere days since Quirinus had returned to the school; mere weeks since Voldemort’s disembodied spirit promised him everything he’d ever dreamed of.

No longer would he be the bullied, cowed Professor of Muggle Studies.

No longer would he be an afterthought.

There is no good and evil, only power, he reminded himself. Whether he vanquished Voldemort or brought him back to life, he would be great. And that was all that mattered.

And so, he had found himself standing in front of the Mirror of Erised, performing spells that he did not understand (but the other, strange new part of him did) and renewing the runes drawn around an ancient bloodstain.

But now, he was sitting in his office. And that green-eyed, unremarkable boy was sitting across from him (though the part of him that was Voldemort whispered, Quirinus, he is the one).

“Do you think I should be worried at all about the shadows?"

Harry Potter’s voice seemed to be coming through several miles of water. For his part, Quirinus felt frozen, and yet, more clever and powerful and strong than he ever had. His limbs had new life, every square centimetre of his being thrummed with magic, and he felt a strange, vast understanding of everything around him; even the boy’s mind.

"You were right to come to me, Harry Potter.” And there came the new, clear voice again, but it faded quickly. “If you are at all interested in learning to... control... to develop... your power, I may just be able to point you in the right d-d-direction."

(flame)

Halfway through the Quidditch match, something strange had come over Quirinus. That same terrible focus and perhaps not-so-mysterious power.

And every nerve in his body sang with the same fierce joy: Kill him, kill him, kill him! They’ll never trace it to you! Dumbledore is not here to see! KILL HIM!

Quirinus had not taken even a single year of Ancient Runes while he was at Hogwarts, and his affinity for the Dark Arts had always been weak. But now, he sat quite calmly in the professors’ box, muttering an Ogham chant and tainting the air with foul magic.

He saw what the others could not; Harry Potter was being consumed by his own shadows. The boy reached for his broom, hanging on with the last of his material form. His eyes were glassy and empty, and everything in Quirinus sung with the triumphant knowledge that his strange enemy was close to death. The Reaper was coming.

The two Weasley boys circled around him, trying to save him (foolish children, none can save him from Lord Death himself!).

It was the girl that snapped him out of his focus; she threw herself into the box like a wildcat let loose and despite the protests of the professors around him.

But it mattered not. Her precious brother was fast losing his grip, and soon the great Boy-Who-Lived would be nothing but a stain on the grass below; a tragic accident—

“INCENDIO!I”

The box crackled with flame, and the thing inside Quirinus howled in anger; yes, she should not know that, but fire would save the boy, sap the shadows.

Even as Snape shouted at her, it was her victory, not his, because Harry Potter had pulled himself back on the broom to safety.

How hard is it to kill an eleven-year-old child already cursed by a parasitic monster? You are just as much of a failure as they say you are!

And yet, thought Quirinus, he did not know if it was the thing, or himself howling in fury at his inability to kill the boy.

(ashes)

He did not like her. He did not like either of the Potter children at all.

Perhaps he liked Harry Potter sometimes, when he delved into his mind and forced the Obscurus to manifest, savoured his terror and the fear-filled memories of his Muggle relatives. When he entertained the idea of using him as a weapon against Dumbledore, now that he had shielded the boy from Legilimency from anyone but him and instilled within him a fear of his Headmaster.

Perhaps he liked Harry Potter when the Dark magic had burned out, and he lay helpless on the floor of Quirrell’s office.

Quirinus found that he liked to toy with the child; make him feel as helpless and utterly annihilated as he once had felt.

After all, he would one day kill Harry Potter. He would make the life bleed out of those green eyes and watch them go still and glassy (like his mother’s, he remembered now), someday soon.

Even as he Obliviated the second child who dared to intercept his search for the Stone, Quirinus knew the end was dawning.

With shaking hands, he lifted the cigarette to his mouth and inhaled death. The weak, prim Quirinus who would have balked at the very idea of polluting his body with such a thing was no longer important to him. After all, what was nicotine and tar and his disgust at the idea of a smoking habit when the spirit of the Dark Lord lived within him?

No. He had been chosen for greater things.

Tonight was the night the end begun.

Quirinus signed the bottom of his letter of resignation, put out the cigarette, and placed in it his brand-new ashtray.

And yet, he cried.

“I have given you my all, My Lord,” he said, and his voice, his own voice was steady. “And now I am nothing.”

𝙼𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚍𝚊 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚝𝚝/𝚃𝚘 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙳𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙼𝚎 𝚄𝚙 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚕

August, 1986

“Just give it a chance, will you?” asked her dad, taking her luggage out the boot. “You won’t know you hate it until you try it.”

Everyone seemed to be giving her the same stupid advice today. When they stopped to get petrol during the drive from London, some weirdo in the petrol station had told her “Cheer up love, it might not happen!” She had responded by sticking her tongue out at them.

Mafalda frowned, crossed her arms, and leaned against the car.

“I don’t see why I can’t go to Roedean.”

“Well, you’re a witch, Mafalda.” He wiped his forehead and frowned. “Bloody hot, isn’t it?”

Witch. She hated the word already. Yeah, some of the girls at school were into Ouija boards and palm-reading and whatnot, but Mafalda didn’t go in for all of that nonsense.

The kind of nonsense that got Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon killed.

“And what do they call you and Mum again?”

Her dad sighed. “Squibs.”

“Yes, Dad! It’s not very nice, is it?”

She glared at the house as if it had personally offended her. It was tall, maybe four or five stories and so crooked that there was no way it hadn’t fallen down by now. A couple of brown chickens hobbled around the yard.

And in here lived the people who had sent her father off to Muggle boarding school, as far away from them as they could possibly manage, as soon as they could.

As her dad strode towards the door, Mafalda followed, kicking a rusty cauldron as she went by.

Before Mafalda could make her great escape, her dad knocked on the door and a plump, short, red-headed someone opened it almost immediately.

“Alfred?” she asked in a squeaky, shocked voice. Then, she glanced furtively behind her as if to check that no one was listening. “Alfred, what are you doing here?”

Her dad frowned, fanned himself with the collar of his shirt, and beckoned her closer so that the rude woman could look her up and down.

“Come on, Mals,” he whispered. “In for a penny, in for a pound, eh?”

Yeah, her hair probably looked a mess and the dress Mum had forced her to wear was all creased, but Mafalda didn’t think she would look particularly nice if she’d just spent three and a half hours in a stinky, sweaty car.

“Well,” said her dad, “this is your niece, Molly, and she’s a witch just like you. Got her Hogwarts letter last week and everything; Professor McGonagall said we should come over and see you. Of course, her mum and I know next to nothing about the wizarding world and Mals just barely remembers your brothers—“

Mafalda couldn’t help herself.

“You’re my aunt? Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon’s sister? Why’d you never come to see me?”

The woman — Aunt Molly — went red in the face.

“Come in, Mafalda,” she said tiredly. And at her father’s hard look, she added: “Come on then. Both of you. In.”

Once they were inside the cramped, cluttered kitchen, she was introduced to her cousins. Mafalda kind of tuned out for most of it because most of them were younger than her, bloody annoyingly loud, and she wasn’t the World’s Biggest Fan of small children, but she did pay attention to Charlie (thirteen and Gryffindor Seeker) and Bill (fifteen and a Prefect of Gryffindor House). The youngest boy was crying his eyes out because someone turned his teddy bear into a giant spider, but Aunt Molly didn’t seem to care. A ugly-looking sweater was knitting itself on the sofa.

While she obviously knew what a Prefect was, Mafalda had no idea what a Seeker was or why everyone was making such a big deal over Gryffindor or more to the point what Gryffindor even was!

“Who’s that, Mummy?” asked the youngest, a little girl with hair the same violent red as Mafalda’s.

“Your cousin, dear,” said Aunt Molly tiredly. “She’s just come to meet us, her father’s a Squib you see—“

The little girl screwed her face up.

“I don’t wanna Squib cousin!” she yelled.

Despite herself, Mafalda flinched, and her dad did, too.

“Don’t worry, dear. She’s a witch, just like you.”

As if that made it any better.

“I don’t wanna,” the girl repeated, glowering at Mafalda.

“Look,” said Mafalda harshly. “We’ll just leave, get our Squib selves out of your way and on the three-and-a-half-hour drive back to London. Thanks for nothing.”

“You didn’t call, Alfred,” said Aunt Molly.

Her dad pinched the bridge of his nose, looking frustrated.

“There’s no way to contact you, Molly. No phone, and you don’t get our kind of mail. Where am I going to get my hands on a trained owl?”

“She can sleep with Ginny,” said Aunt Molly, nodding towards the little girl.

Mafalda gave Bill, who seemed like the most sensible one of the bunch, a look that clearly said, I am not going to bloody sleep with that demon and that’s final.

“I can sleep with Charlie, Mum, and Mafalda can have my bed.”

Aunt Molly beamed. “What an angel,” she said. And to Mafalda. “Come, dear, let me take your trunk. We’ll all go shopping in Diagon Alley tomorrow, doesn’t that sound nice? Alfred, you wouldn’t mind—”

“—Not letting the world know you have a secret Squib cousin, you have nothing to fear, I’m well practiced, Molly.”

Charlie stood up. “Can I show her around the house, Mum?”

The youngest boy looked up, too.

“And can I have a piggy-back ride from her?”

“You’re too old, Ron!” said the snootiest-looking boy, who was sitting in the middle and had the least amount of dirt in his face.

“I’m not too old!” shrieked Ginny, waving her freckled arms. “I’m only five years old, Mum! I want a piggyback-ride!”

“When your dad gets home from work,” said Aunt Molly.

“You’ll get used to us,” Bill whispered.

I don’t have to like you, thought Mafalda.

“So are you coming?” asked Charlie. “We’ve got to de-gnome the garden. You should come too, Uncle Alfred.”

Dad said he’d come with them, but would rather watch. De-gnoming apparently seemed to involve spinning the tiny, screaming, spiteful little (animals? creatures?) until they shrieked with giddiness, then tossing them as far as you possibly could, which Mafalda was very good at, and Bill and Charlie were all too happy to cheer her on, even convincing her dad to join in, too.

"Don't mind Ginny," said Bill as he flung a particularly angry gnome over the hedge. "She doesn't know anything about anything. And it was wrong of Mum to push you away, but I hope we can be friends still, and that you'll come to Hogwarts with us."

Mafalda, despite herself, thought that was an entirely reasonable proposal.

Maybe she wasn’t going to hate the wizarding world.

It turned out that unfortunately for the sake of her sanity, Charlie loved to talk while he was working.

“Have you heard about Quidditch, Mafalda — oh, good one, Uncle Alfred! That must have gone like twenty yards! Did you know the Antipodean Opaleye has no pupils? What House are you going to be in?”

And yet, she found herself (ew) getting a bit fond of them already.