Name: Sethos Amen Flint
Age & Birthday: 31, 11th of January
Gender & Pronouns: Cis-male & he/him
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Occupation: Professional Keeper for the Falcons
Blood Status: Pureblood
House: Atticus
Affiliation:Â Death Eaters
Family: Wife (Emma Flint, nee Vanity), Half-sister (Valeria Flint) & Step-Siblings
Languages: English, Arabic, & Bulgarian
Residence: A flat in Diagon Alley
MAGICAL:
Boggart: Losing Emma
Patronus: Lynx
Amortenia: Coffee, oak, sweat
Lower: Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Astronomy, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Potions, Transfiguration.
Upper: Ancient Runes, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions
Sethos was the result of his father's first wife. The one that was married from obligation. From the stories his mother had told him, the marriage started like any normal one, but when she had issues getting pregnant, he got bored.
His father left his mother and a few months later she found out she was pregnant, keeping it to herself. It was upon his birth that his father found out and demanded he hold the last name, though he was already married to another. An heir was important to the Flint man. He does believe in what his father preaches about a pure line, and that is what made him essentially join the death eaters, and another to watch over his sister.
At first he wanted to hold resentment to the man, but it was meeting his half-sister Valeria, that he found a need to be protective of the witch, even though they had different lives, him residing in Bulgaria and both going to different schools.
He grew a passion for Quidditch, his height giving him the position of Keeper that he was able to continue once school was done professionally.
He has been on played for three teams throughout his career, starting with a Bulgarian team, then over to Ireland for two years, London for two, back to Bulgaria and now London, where he signed a five year contract.
Is return back to London, will essentially be a rocky one, considering he has to come face to face with the woman who still owns his heart.
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"I'm curious about that too. Naturally he will be perfect." He was their son after all, there was no way for him to be anything less than that, but she wondered who he would take after more. Both in appearance and temperament. "I do hope he gets your height." She smiled up at him pulling him down for a kiss. "Sure, yeah. Let's go home."
Sethos wasn’t about to disagree, of course their son would be perfect. “Let’s be honest, he’s bound to take after his mother.” Still, he hoped the kid inherited his height. When Emma brought it up, he couldn’t help but chuckle, amused she always seemed to be one step ahead of him. “I’d say the odds are in his favour.”
He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips before pulling back just slightly. “Alright, then. Guess the next step is figuring out how we’re going to break the news to everyone.”
“Good, your toes need the workout.” Lydia insisted, as though that had made any semblance of sense. Then Sethos kept talking and her eyes went wide. “You know the gender! Oh my god, lead with that next time Sethos! Come on, come on! I’ll race you there I’m so excited, I can’t believe you know! I hope it’s a girl you’d make such a good girl dad but oh if it’s a boy I can spend so much time rolling in the dirt! Though I could do that if it’s a girl too… this is so exciting!”
Sethos wasn’t surprised by Lydia’s burst of excitement, he’d figured she’d be thrilled the moment he mentioned the baby’s gender. “You want to race me?” he asked with a grin, glancing down at her. “Pretty sure you’ll need three steps for every one of mine.” His tone was teasing as he started making his way toward the door, deliberately picking up the pace. “You really think I’d make a good girl dad?” he called over his shoulder, waiting for her to actually sprint before he broke into a run himself.
She was pleased that they were having a son, she thought a son suited them and their lifestyle much more than a daughter would. Besides, it was much preferable to only have one child to having to deal with multiple, she could not imagine why one would want more than that. If their son was for some unfathomable reason a bad quidditch player, they would have to have another, obviously, but she didn't even consider the possibility of him being less than great.
"He'll have to get used to brooms as soon as possible. We'll get him started off young." She agreed easily, a smile on her lips. "We'll have to see what position he excels most in, that way we can pick a broom most suited to it."
Sethos was still caught in the moment, the quiet, staggering realisation that they were having a son. A child who would carry on the family name. An heir. For him, that meant they wouldn’t need to try for more. He liked the idea of a small family. With the way he was raised, it felt right for him.
He nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “That, I can agree with.” Quidditch would absolutely be part of their world. “We’ll have to see what sort of build he has,” he added with a short laugh, shaking his head at how easily they were already talking about the future, his future. A moment passed. “You ready to head out?”
Frank's eyes widened. He had to resist the urge to pinch himself. Sethos Flint was actually offering to let him buy this masterpiece, when by all rights he would give it the sort of attention and life it deserved. There was no way he could fly it nearly as often, or show it off nearly as frequently.
"Ah- are you sure? There's no way I could do it any justice. You should have it, when you fly the world would see it. That's the sort of life it deserves, without a doubt."
Sethos couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped when he caught the way Frank's face lit up. Letting go of the broom wasn’t easy, that was for certain, but he could already hear Emma’s voice if he tried to sneak another one into the manor.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said with a nod. “We’ve already got an entire room full of brooms as it is. We one step away from opening a museum.” He grinned, clearly amused. “It’s better off with someone who’ll actually fly it.”
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Lydia didn't technically live in the manor any more, she had her own apartment in London and she spent loads of time there, but it didn't stop her from visiting more often than not. Someone had to keep her mother in line and making sure Marcus's blood pressure went up. She was the youngest child at the moment, and the job fell to her. But she didn't spend nearly as much time in Sethos and Emma's house.
"I've got to keep you on your toes somehow." She said, standing up on her tiptoes to wrap him in a hug. "Sure, some wine would be awesome. How does it feel to be a future dad?"
Sethos wrapped his arms around his sister, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head. Ever since he learned Emma was pregnant, something had shifted in him, family suddenly felt more present, more important.
“With you, Val, and Emma around, I don’t think I’ve had a chance not to be on my toes,” he said with a chuckle. He gestured toward the kitchen. “Come on, let’s get you that glass of wine and then I’ll tell you if we’re having a little boy or girl.”
Building walls, huh? Flick knew all about that. That whole process had recently gotten her heart broken. She straightened up and forced herself to recenter. If this was her world now then she’d have to learn how to fix it. There was nothing else to it. It would only get worse if she sat around and did nothing.
“I suppose I can’t blame anyone for doing their best to survive.” Even if the cost was so high. “It looks like I’ll have to do my best not to become numb, then. This can’t be the future here. It can’t.”
It was strange, after spending months away caring for his mother, Sethos hadn’t fully grasped just how far things in London had unraveled until he heard it said out loud. The idea of raising a child here… it clung to the edges of his thoughts. “In times like these, it’s hard to blame anyone for the choices they make,” he said quietly, guilt tugging at his chest.
He paused, gaze flicking to the side before returning to her. “I’d like to think this isn’t all there is. That we can still find something good, somewhere, even when everything feels like it’s closing in.” He didn’t say it out loud, but part of him wondered if they even had that kind of choice anymore.
"Glad to know that you haven't left the world of us mortals," he teased. There was a different version of him that was worse with finances and would give in to spending all of his money on Quidditch would be the source for all of his vices: time spent in the air, watching games, and buying any team's merch. "Oh yeah? I don't know about collecting, but I think getting one and getting back into it could be good. A healer friend told me I should do something else with my hands outside of the hospital. Know any good players who could help coach me?" Beck smiled through the conversation, feeling even better from Sethos' genuine happiness that radiated off of him. "Oh I'm sure you won't hear the end of it either. She'll be back on the broom before we know it. And if you need any appointments or recommendations, I'm your guy," he said, parroting Sethos' words from before.
“I’m simply doing my part for the greater good,” Sethos joked with a laugh, shaking his head. Honestly, he couldn’t imagine his life without Quidditch, though lately, the thought of retirement had started to creep in more often than he liked. That was something to deal with later. “If you ever feel like getting back on a broom, I’d be happy to go flying with you,” he offered casually, though the sentiment was genuine. He didn’t extend that kind of invitation to just anyone, but something about Beck made him feel like a little encouragement could go a long way. A small, sly smile tugged at his lips. “I just might take you up on that offer. And I’ll definitely keep you in mind—we’ll probably need a healer soon enough.” His voice softened slightly at the mention, the unspoken excitement about the upcoming ultrasound hanging between the lines.
It had been a while since he’d last seen his sister, and with practice wrapping up a bit earlier than expected, he figured he’d make the most of the extra time before running his errands and heading home.
He gave the door a knock and stepped back, a grin already tugging at his lips. When it opened, he let out a soft laugh. “Surprise,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Hope you’ve got a few minutes to spare for me.”
Sethos hadn’t realised how quickly time had gotten away from him until he finally managed to send an owl to his stepsister, inviting her over. He’d just gotten back from off the pitch, Emma had insisted it be part of their new home, when he spotted the house-elf leading Lydia in his direction.
“Of course you show up before I’ve had a chance to clean up,” he said with a teasing grin. “Can I get you something to drink?”
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She shuddered, hating the truth layered in Sethos’s words. This wasn’t the world she wanted to gift her son. This wasn’t the sort of world anyone should leave a child. As soon as Anthony got a bit older, as soon as she could trust someone besides her parents or Pandora to watch him, she would have to start doing something about it.
“I’m glad I’m not the only one shocked. Everyone seems so… resigned.” Or proud of themselves, depending on the person.
Sethos glanced over at the woman beside him, studying her quietly. Part of him wondered what was going through her mind, but the truth was, he already knew where he stood. He had no doubts about that. And deep down, he was fairly certain it was their side that had started all of this. Not that he’d ever say it out loud.
“It’s easy to grow numb when this becomes your everyday,” he said after a pause, voice low. “People shut down. They build walls. It’s how they survive.”
“It’s in such good condition, I bet it still flies like it’s new.” Frank had considered becoming a pro Quidditch player once. He’d never really been good enough to make it anywhere serious, but he enjoyed the game. He liked flying.
“There’s craftsmanship to it. Players can be good without a good broom of course, but there’s something about a good broom that can’t be beat. It’s like a work of art.”
Sethos’ face lit up with something close to reverence, his hand brushing along the polished handle of the broom. “Exactly,” he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s not just a tool, it’s a companion. You feel the difference in every turn, every dive. A good broom doesn’t fight you, it moves with you.”
He glanced sideways at Frank. “You can always tell when someone appreciates the craftsmanship. It’s more than just flying, it’s the feeling of control, of trust. Like riding instinct.” With a thoughtful hum, he continued, “Some of these old models? They’ve got soul. You can’t buy that anymore.” He looked from the broom to the wizard. "Here, you should buy it."
"Yes please, I'd love to come for dinner." Lydia bounced on her heels, excited. She had missed family dinners. Well more accurately she missed sibling dinners, and sometimes their mothers could come too. It made it feel like they were really family, something permanent, something that couldn't get taken away.
"If I told you, then he wouldn't be a mystery. But he's nice to me." And she told him, there was a chance a painting or something would tell her step-father. That would not go well. "Do you think I could go with you some time, to Bulgaria? To see what it's like? She is? Oh, wonderful."
"Then it’s settled, you’ll come for dinner." His tone left no room for argument, warm but firm. The last thing he wanted was for Lydia to feel anything less than welcome. "I’ll send an owl with the details, but let’s do it soon."
His gaze drifted across the room until it landed on Emma, drawing his focus momentarily before turning back to his sister. "And if he’s anything less than respectful," he added, voice lowering with protective weight, "he’ll answer to me." Sethos blinked in mild surprise at her mention of Bulgaria. "Yes, of course, if that’s what you want. I’ll likely head there in a week to check on Mum."
"Lyds," he said gently, placing a quick kiss on the top of her head, "you’ll have to excuse me, I need to get back to Emma." He offered her a smile, one laced with affection. "We’ll catch up properly soon." With that, he slipped into the crowd, leaving the promise lingering behind him.
Flick hadn't been out much since her return -- first she'd been uncomfortably pregnant and then she'd had a newborn. Now, with her son down for a nap and 'grandparent time', Flick could finally explore. Nothing looked the same. So many stores had shuttered or been damaged. Had it really only been a year? How bad had things gotten in just one year?
"Is it really like this everywhere? Merlin I wasn't gone that long."
Sethos had been away for some time, and upon returning to London, he wandered the streets, taking in the aftermath with his own eyes. The damage was worse than he imagined. A quiet guilt tugged at him, he knew where he stood, the choices he’d made. They weren’t born of belief, but of protection, for his sister, and now, for the family he was building. He could never say it aloud, but he didn’t fully agree with the side he’d chosen.
“There are areas worse off than others,” he said quietly, glancing over at the stranger. “I’ve only just returned to London myself.”
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Despite not being the overly emotional sort she did feel a few tears well up in her eyes as she squeezed his hand back. She would fully blame it on pregnancy hormones. While she had trouble wrapping her head around this change before, it was starting to settle in now. To feel real, now that they knew the gender.
"It seems that when we do something, we do it right the first time." A son meant they'd have an heir. They didn't need more kids. Perhaps in a couple of years when she was retired they would think of another, but for now she was content with having one. "When do you think we can get him his first broom?"
Sethos gave a deep chuckle as he leaned in to press a kiss to her temple. Her hand was still in his, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “A son,” he repeated, the words still tasting new and incredible on his tongue. “You’re right, one and done. Perfect from the start.”
He let the thought settle in for a moment, picturing their future. “First broom?” he echoed with a grin. “If I have way, the moment he can sit up on his own, I’ll have him on one. Maybe not flying yet, but he’ll know what a good handle feels like.” He tilted his head toward her. “Think we’ll be able to agree on a model? Or is this going to be our first real parenting argument?”
"Figured you'd have someone to fetch your own by now, you know," Beck teased, the corner of his mouth just hinting at a smile. They'd never actually crossed paths at school—Sethos was a few years up and over at Durmstrang—but Emma's friends were always an immediate extension of his own. "Caught one of your recent games, by the way. Glad you won, or my entire day would've been shot. Me? Oh I'm doing okay, I guess. Just busy. Trying to expand my hobbies beyond just, well, work," he admitted with a wry grin, glancing at the broom in question. "But enough about me, what about you. Congratulations, I heard the good news."
Sethos let out a short snort of laughter. He knew plenty of high-profile Quidditch players who had assistants for everything, but his mum had made sure he never got that full of himself.
“There are some things I like to do for myself,” he said with a shrug, his tone casual but firm. “Emma’s about the only other person I’d trust to pick out a broom anyway.”
His grin widened as he caught Beck’s tease. “Well, I’d hate to disappoint a fan… especially one who had galleons riding on the match.” He chuckled. “And if you’re actually thinking of taking up broom collecting, I’m your guy. It’s one of the few things I hoard shamelessly.”
At the mention of the news, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. I’m excited—really excited. Emma too. Though between us, I know it’s killing her to be off the pitch. Sitting out the rest of the season isn’t easy for someone like her.”