Beware the Shadows...

"Always keep your foes confused. If they are never certain who you are or what you want, they cannot know what you are like to do next.” - Petyr Baelish

[atwistedoldfriend]

Revelations || Ramsey & Evan || April 10th, 1980

[atwistedoldfriend]

strikes-goyle:

Ramsey watched with wide eyes as Evan seemed to walk off towards the shelves. Ramsey wanted to fucking forget about their mission; leave this place and never return. He casted one last disgusted look to the creature that was staring at him from the ceiling, before taking off down the next aisle beside Rosier’s. Its not like they could go back to Him empty handed. 

He heeded Evan’s warning and scanned the shelves, looking at the collection of strange cages and objects and things that seemed to call at him quite literally. His mind wandered back to the jewelled coffin he’d seen in the other room. Maybe there was something in here he could knick.

Ramsey pulled his arm out of his robe to use the fabric to carefully pick up what looked like a pure silver letter opener, which he slid it into his pocket. He’d need to remember not to put his hand into- His eyes grew wide and he launched himself at what looked like a small chest. The warnings rang in his head but he couldn’t help himself. What was kept in chests was gold and- He jiggled the lock, using the letter opener (that he’d just told himself not to touch) and it snapped opened. The contents shone bright gold, reflecting on his face. 

“Well bollocks.” he glanced around out of habit, noting that the creature was following him down the aisle. “Not like yer using it fer nofin,” he smirked to himself and started filling his pockets. His grin grew and his eyes shone with greed. They were rich! Their money problems would be solved. The weight of the pockets jingled and clanked as he stuffed whatever he could inside. Shame he couldn’t take it all. 

The screeching pulled his eyes up and he frowned. He didn’t immediately jump to Rosier’s aid however, assuming the man could probably take on whatever it was he was combating. At least for the moment. His thoughts were so absorbed with the heaviness in his pockets that he could only see galleons and a shinny new car. Maybe a new gaff for their growing family. He could go out and buy Charlotte a dress and maybe some jewelry, she’d like that. 

The screeching continued and he rolled his eyes. “Fookin’ ‘ell,” he scanned the rest of the shelves as he made his way over to the next aisle, noting anything that looked important and making note to take Evan back here.

Ramsey quickened his pace and brightened his wand, filling the aisle with intense light. He could see Evan on the floor, surrounded by three of the ashy green creatures.

“Stupify!” He sent the one on top of Evan flying backwards. The creatures screeched away from his light as he ran to Rosier’s side. 

“You alright?” He looked down. There didn’t seem to be any injuries, but the look on the man’s face made Goyle think that maybe he was hurt and he just couldn’t see it. Broken bone perhaps? 

“You stand?” he asked, though he reached and grabbed Evan’s arm, simultaneously trying to use the light from his wand to keep the humanoids away. 

They seemed aggressive but not necessarily hostile. Maybe they just don’t like to be bugged. 

“Looks like you found yerself a pile’o.” he smirked, suppressing a laugh. He couldn’t help but feel a bit smug about pretty boy having to get his dainty hands dirty a bit. 

“Fink I found some’in we can use, yah…” he glanced at the creatures that screeched but kept their distance from them. “He might like it… Should clean yerself off mate,” he said bluntly with a laugh, his hand dusting off bugs that were on Evan’s shoulder rather roughly.

“You good?” He asked again just to be sure, slightly concerned, though he’d never admit it. The look in Evan’s eyes seemed a bit wild and unhinged but the bloke was probably just spooked. “Got you a good scare, ey?” he smirked.

“You stand?”

He couldn’t breathe. He could feel the substance that covered the floor squishing into his clothes, oozing around his collar and down along his back, as if the caked globs on his face and saturating his hair weren’t bad enough. It was more because of his state of shock that he allowed the bigger man help him back to his feet and brush him off. His brain still wasn’t really processing.

He took a moment to study the mush he stood in, looking for the familiar and comforting length of supple cherry wood. It took a few minutes of convincing before he could actually bend down to retrieve when he did find it because it required him to reach into the mixture of what certainly smelled like mud and excrement. Gripping his wand in a hand that trembled far more than he would ever acknowledge, he finally glanced around the room before focusing on his partner.

Goyle’s commentary was definitely not helping.

A tremor raced down his spine when he shifted faintly and felt the mush he’d fallen into ooze down the small of his back. For a moment the world spun, and he found himself wishing he were the type to pass out because he wasn’t sure he could handle anymore. He needed the comfort of his bathroom, scalding hot water, and soap.

In truth he wasn’t even thinking about the job anymore. Voldemort could fuck himself for all he cared. The only thing he wanted was to be gone. However,e given that simply disapparating from his current location was impossible, he did his best not to breathe and took a moment to clean himself. It didn’t help of course. Sure he looked clean, but Evan knew he wouldn’t believe that he was truly clean until he’d scoured his body and burned the clothes he currently wore.

“Got you a good scare, ey?”

The angry scowl that Evan aimed at the other man spoke volumes on his opinion regarding the entire incident. And for more than a heartbeat, malevolent contemplation lit his eyes with a promise that said he’d done it with such frequency that he was almost casual about it. In that moment, he was infinitely more dangerous, because he wanted to chase his imagination, which ended with Goyle hanging from his wrists, his body a bloody battleground of skin rending charms, flame curses that blackened the skin, and the pulsing seizure like symptoms of liberal cruciatus use.

And then he made the mistake of breathing in deep, a unfortunate habit brought on by his desire to smell the fear on air. The way it sweetened the air with the pungent release of pheromones brought on by a pounding heart as adrenaline kicked into gear. It was different with everyone, and that knowledge had a tendency to make him hungrier for it. Today the air was heavy with the smell of urine overlaid with ammonia, excrement, rot, and old water. He gagged and lifted a forearm to his nose, fighting his own gorge. It took several moments before he could managed to speak without gagging, and his eyes were watering with the effort.

“If you think you found something, collect it. I am done. Assuming there is anything to actually be found in this chaos, it will not be done by me.” He glanced at his pocket watch, and noting the time he added, “Our time is getting short anyway.” Although, truth be told, he would have said anything to get out of that room.

He was so done.

[atwistedoldfriend]

What's your favourite book?

“I don’t really have one. I like one enough to finish it, and I move on to discover a new favorite. Fickle I know, but really the only books I tend to re-read are those that I use for research or recipes, and that’s something different in my opinion.”

It’s a photo album that he keeps stashed with the rest of his trophies and of course the shrine to Moody. Evan has always played around with photography, and he will capture images of his victims when he finds them worth remembering, and add them to this album. He has also tucked away stories that have mentioned his crimes.

[atwistedoldfriend]

Did you enjoy your school years?

“Do many people say yes to this question? I can’t imagine why. It’s a time when we are bound by everyone else’s perceptions, rules we have no say in, expectations without parameters, added to a host of physical changes that ultimately impact how we feel about all of that. Honestly, it’s a nightmare--and I barely have the emotion to appreciate that fact.”

[atwistedoldfriend]

Are there any sports or games you enjoy?

“None that I care to share.“

[atwistedoldfriend]

What's your opinion on marriage?

“How much time do you have?”

“In all sincerity though, I believe that marriage is like any other form of institutionalization. You get exactly what you put into it, and even if you adhere to all the rules, and do everything you possibly can to maintain it, you’re still likely to get fucked by it in one way or another.”

[atwistedoldfriend]

What sort of books do you enjoy reading the most?

“Typically I read for purpose. Either to improve my skills or my knowledge base, but that is hardly the only time I read. I will confess that I have delved quite a bit into muggle fiction. It is fascinating to me, to read how they explain or imagine magic and compare it to what I know. Plus, the stories are actually quite intricate and entertaining...most of them anyway. “

[atwistedoldfriend]

If you could change one thing in your past, what would it be?

“Wanting to change would indicate regret, of which I have none.”

I would never have stopped to help a little blonde Ravenclaw. I imagine my life would be so much simpler without that particular complication in it.

[atwistedoldfriend]

What's your favourite outfit to wear?

“Typically black or gray slacks, a button down shirt, a waistcoat (mostly solids, though he will give in to stripes), and depending on the temperature, a suit/sport jacket.” He scowled at his shirt. Was that coffee? Fuck. Now he’d have to change.

[atwistedoldfriend]

Do you have a favourite tool or technique you use when torturing people?

"Hmmm...beyond the unforgivables? I’ve been working on cutting spells. It requires a delicate balance of focus and wand technique.”

[atwistedoldfriend]

Do you prefer men or women more?

"I would say that it depends upon the person. In general? I don’t have a preference. They are either worth enjoying or they aren’t. I don’t care whether its a man or a woman.”

[atwistedoldfriend]

Evan has been around for a while, so he's faced a lot of questions, but many of those get to know you, basic exploration type questions hit his box long ago. I'm curious to see if he's changed. So send me your questions, thoughts, musings, whatever strikes your fancy!

[cherrybomb-witch]

Who do you consider to be the magical community's most desirable bachelors?

Dear me, I am long past the age I kept record of the eligible men. I have had no need, as I never had any real intention of choosing a husband for my daughter and even less so for my granddaughters. That is an obsolete tradition, and rightly so, if you ask me.

Because of this, I cannot say I know much on the subject. I believe the Carrows have a boy? They have always been a very good-looking family. I remember the Black boys were charming little things, but that family is complicated, to say the least. The one who I know (through my granddaughter, surprisingly) to be a very delightful young man is Evan Rosier. Oh, he is such a charming boy, intelligent, well-educated and also very interesting. He is certainly a very adequate young wizard.

[atwistedoldfriend]

cherrybomb-witch:

Before Eleanor had the chance to reply, she was interrupted by her granddaughters return, wearing an irritated frown that made the old woman roll her eyes. Of course the girl would show a temper at her. Everything with her was a constant struggle.

“Here’s the sugar, your majesty” Marlene snapped, placing the pot with just a tiny hint of violence, crossing her arms over her chest “Now, I’ll leave you to keep playing hostess and bitching about your awfully mannered granddaughter while I go and change into decent clothes”.

“I told you not to put on those ragged shorts, dear” observed the older woman, dropping a spoonful of sugar on her tea without looking at her.

“I was going to change when grandfather got here, I wasn’t counting on our unexpected guest. Give me a break, please!?” with those words she disappeared inside her room (not without narrowing her eyes at Evan behind her) her terrier trotting dutifully behind her, before the elder oman had the chance to reply. That was usually the only way to ever win an arguement with her.

“Impossible child. Is she like this with you too, or is it just when I’m around that she gets so feral? This behaviour does not come from my side of the family, I can assure you” Of course, Eleanor was lying, though she might not been aware of it herself. Despite never becoming the high society lady the McKinnon matriarch had been in her youth, Marlene was like her at that age in many aspects, starting with her rebellious, brazen nature.

“Why, you charming young man. That silver tongue of yours will certainly get you far in life” she laughed, her smile approving. She was a woman that enjoyed a proper dose of flattery, and she took a particular pride in still receiving compliments even in old age.

“Oh, I see. That explains it, of course” she replied carefully. There were whispers about the Rosiers’ state of mind, whispers that reached far enough even to the McKinnon castle in the Isle of Skye. But Eleanor was well versed in tact, and this was not the place, the time and especially not the person to discuss such rumors with. Instead, she kept her focus on Evan “But you don’t work there, do you? Your work in…Ah, Marlene mentioned it once…something about security charms, was it? So you didn’t follow your father’s footsteps” 

Evan remained a silent, and captive audience as Marlene traded barbs with her grandmother. He also took a moment to admire the legs her ‘ragged shorts’ showed off, though he wisely said nothing. When she noted his arrival, he did however, flash her a dimpled smile and said, “I prefer to think of it as fortuitous timing.” She was beautiful when she was in a tizzy after all.

When the matriarch of the McKinnon clan turned her observations on him, he chuckled softly and said, “As a gentleman, I think it best not to say.” Though his green eyes danced with humor that confirmed what he refused to say.

When the conversation returned to the ministry (a far safer topic to discuss) he shook his head and said, “No, I never had the drive to study magical creatures, let alone the mysterious ones.” He took a sip of his tea, savoring the flavor for a moment before he went on, “I work with counterfeit defensive spells and protective objects. Thanks to the war, there has been an influx of counterfeits, particularly to the Squib community, or those that are weaker in their magic. It keeps me pretty busy. It’s not always exciting, but I like to think it is important.” He deflected easily, but then, he’d had lots of time to practice explaining and defending his work. It was a lie that was almost real at this point.

[atwistedoldfriend]

hostilegazelle:

Suspicioun slithered swiftly into the forefront of her mind. The smell of sweat and salience filled her airway. His serene voice caressed her skin like satin on the rough edges of her palms, causing a shiver she had to suppress as his breath stroked the inside of her wrist. Though the lighting was dim, she could see the fine clothing, crisp at every seam, and while the prominence he exuded, so out of place in the squalor filled neighborhood, should have eased her alert mind, this man only seemed to set off more sirens. There was something familiar about him, she knew, but not in a way that chased away the boogeyman she envisioned before his appearance.

”Are we used to wands at our throats, or should I be offended at your blasé response?” she mused back, allowing her wand to fall a few inches but no more. Normal people flinched when a wand was too close for comfort. Decent people would be aghast. Manners were the first thing to go in situations like this.

Or was she just paranoid because of the joint?

Dorcas pushed her insecurities down with a hard swallow, tilting her head a bit.

”You must make a habit of strolling around this area at night,” she commented, glancing to the side at the rubble and trash. “And not introducing yourself when finding a lady alone? Not wise. Haven’t you heard how dangerous it is?”

Dorcas wanted nothing more than to disarm the man, but she had no concrete reason for her unease. He was simply a man who caught her off guard while she was having a private smoke (in a public alley), and yet…. Something about him—something that made her feel sixteen and foolish—warned her to stay on guard.

”You can’t blame a girl for being cautious.”

“Are we used to wands at our throats, or should I be offended at your blasé response?”

A dimple flashed in his cheek for a moment as he ducked his chin, immediately withdrawing from her. Blasé or not, he’d been intensely aware of her wand, and the threat it posed. “Not at all. Training has taught me to be as calm as possible in any situation where a wand is pointed at my person.” He said evenly, his gaze never leaving her (or the wand).

Again he almost smiled. She had spunk. He’d swear he knew her, but the shadows were too deep, and since she was facing him, her back was too the light. He wanted to shift, draw her more into that light so he could recognize her, but he didn’t think that very wise either, given how wand-happy she seemed to be.

“I have heard.” He confirmed, his gaze flickering around the street. “Although I’m not accustomed to random strangers being so twitchy in muggle areas.” He pointed out, feeling it was a reasonable observation. Witches and wizards didn’t just go whipping their wands out like it was common place in muggle zones, and this was most decidedly a muggle area of London. They were a far cry from the Leaky Cauldron and the shop-stuffed streets of the wizarding world.

“You can’t blame a girl for being cautious.”

“Indeed you are quite right.” He put his wand away, and aware that she was watching him like a cat ready to pounce, he held his hands out, palms out and said, “If you’ll give me a moment,” He reached into his jacket pocket where he always kept his identity for random occasions (just never knew when it would be needed) and withdrew his MLE badge and handed it to her. “It’s late, but I was following up on a case. Can’t always find bad guys during the regular business day.” He reasoned.

[atwistedoldfriend]

The Trouble with Friends || Walden & Evan

[atwistedoldfriend]

apromisetoeveryone:

The moment that Evan checked his watch, Walden knew the conversation was over. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t been expecting the man to run off, but the fact that Evan was uncomfortable enough with their little chat was enough to make Walden wonder.

He didn’t argue it, however. Nor did he bother being offended when his friend explained that he simply didn’t want to be there anymore. “I’d love to supply you with the opportunity to test those poisons,” he answered with a grin. Any opportunity to try something new with his victims was a fun one. “Oh, if you manage to make something that’s non-lethal, that would be even better,” he added, thinking about the Little Lamb. It had been a while since he’d had some fun with his favourite pet, trying some new experiments on him would be the perfect excuse to pick things up where they’d left off.

“Have a good time experimenting,” he shot to his friend as the man made to leave. Pushing his chair onto its two back legs, Walden contemplated the conversation. It hadn’t been anything like their usual chats, which usually involved a bit of playful or insulting banter. No, something had been off this time and that worried Walden. In all the time he’d known the man, Evan had never been so outwardly hesitant. Something was going on between him and the Hit Bitch.

It was a question he intended on investigating eventually, but for now, he would watch from a distance. He knew how dangerous his friend could be and if he thought that Walden might stumble onto something he shouldn’t … well, he wasn’t ready to take that risk just yet.

It took effort to keep his steps slow and steady. He nodded a confirmation to Walden’s last well wish and then turned to march from the Leaky Cauldron without a backward glance, though his thoughts remained stuck at that table. He knew the executioner wouldn’t let it go. He was tenacious like that, which meant that he’d need to come up with something or he’d be fucked.

His main concern was that Walden might decide to fuck with Marlene and he wasn’t sure how well he’d do with that. More important, getting into a fight over a blood traitor with the wizard would be detrimental to his own situation. Stepping out into the chill of the night, he flipped up the collar of his coat to provide more shelter from the sharp breeze that tugged at his clothes.

No, it wouldn’t do to forget this conversation. He’d have to figure something out, and he’d have to start watching Marlene a little more closely. The last thing he wanted was for the witch to start doubting him, and one wrong word from Walden (should the executioner get his hands on her) could lead to far more than doubt.

Aggravated with himself and the man that was as close to ‘friend’ as he got with most people, Evan made his way to a safe apparition point, and returned home, well aware that the incident was far from over and disliking that he’d put himself into the crosshairs to begin with. Woman’s going to get me killed, or worse—imprisoned. Somehow, even knowing that, he knew he wouldn’t be leaving her alone, and that was perhaps the stupidest acknowledgement of all.  

[atwistedoldfriend]

Let’s Spend the Night Together ||Lily & Old Friend

[atwistedoldfriend]

far-from-wilted:

Lily was shaking, head spinning, his haunting voice only found deep within the confines of her memory now blaring at her - feeling more like an electric shock with every syllable he spoke. Glistening eyes blurred as he cut at her knees, and squeezed shut as she let out a frantic cry for help, a scream, a grinding teeth growl of rage and pain. “Cowardly prick- let me out of this bond now and we’ll see how weak I a–” Her words were running, rushing, escalating pitch and frantic severity as her bloody wrists slipped against the enchanted bindings. If her knees gave way completely, her hands would swell and numb, and she was worried she wouldn’t be able to push herself back up from such a state. 

Where was her wand? Surely she could try to writhe free. Wandless magic was incredibly difficult, especially with too much discipline and control to muster during a time such as this. As she’d read - wandless magic is like riding a bike with no hands. During an earthquake. Mumbling a spell to herself, she closed her throbbing green eyes and just as she lashed against the bindings, Lily experienced a pain like no other. Her whole shoulder radiated the worst pain imaginable. Burning, stinging, electric, cutting, slicing, sharp and dull sensations all at once. She let out a stifled moan, barely able to even breathe from the pain, lips parted in silence as she could barely look over to him. His attack points were inching in, a finely manicured pattern in his masterpiece display. Of course, she didn’t know what he could do to her unborn baby, she never knew the mysterious Old Friend’s limitations. Their sick and twisted game of cat and mouse now left her with less might and finesse. No longer as nimble, Lily would keep fighting until it meant the baby wouldn’t be harmed. Wouldn’t even be able to hear its mother’s agony. But the fear of it all, the utter helplessness of remaining stuck against the comfort of her bedsheets, was overwhelming. 

Her body contorted like a dancer’s, Lily’s knees gave way as the searing pain of her shoulder intensified. Just behind the masked figure, she saw a moving picture on the wall smile back at her. Laugh, even. Slow motion, dancing James and Lily, flirting with each other as James hammed it up for the photographer. “James!” Her vocal chords broke from shrieking too loud, in vain pleading for him to come home by some odd miracle.  Just as she heard herself beg for her husband to return home to her, she tried to find any comfort she’d know he’d give her. Courage. Stay up. Keep fighting. Lure him in, get him while you can. She gnashed her teeth together and leaned forward, towards her masked stalker. Her speech slurred from the pain, her words wouldn’t come out right, but she glared at him all the same, hissing and panting as her shoulder writhed, chest bucking, “Let me- let me go- you aren’t allowing your glorious moment to live up to its full potential-” A mixture of trembling, yelping, huffing, she managed to speak. Her shoulder had drooped tremendously, arm giving way at any feeling as she slithered towards him as best she could, peeking down at her belly a moment. “I’m familiar with your gifts, but I haven’t-” she struggled to breathe,  but pursed her lips and forced out a sharp huff against the cool mask, adrenaline kicking in despite the tears welling in her eyes, “I want- to give you a gift…”

“I want—to give you a gift.”

Such temptation. He couldn’t deny the way his own pulse picked up at the words, not because she had anything to give him beyond the screams that he could take at will, but because she was trying to play him. It was marvelous. So often his victims were no different than the animals he’d tormented as a child. Like calves to the slaughter, they bellowed and thrashed, but ultimately they were no more fascinating.

Until he met one like Lily. A victim that tried to think through the pain. He could only imagine where her mind had gone, how those cogs were spinning as she tried to outmaneuver and outwit him. It turned his game into a dance, and every step was calculated. Careful. The balance of power was tilted dramatically in his favor, but one misstep, one wrong twist, could tip that balance into her favor.

He licked his lips, thinking about it, weighing the consequences. Unfortunately for her, there was no possible outcome, nothing she could offer him, that made the temptation worth the risk. So he silenced her with a flick of his wand and a silent langlock, removing her ability to tempt him further.

The room was filled with her ragged breathing and muted grunts of pain, and he almost sighed in relief. As thrilling as a scream could be, he’d learned from her, that there was something indefinably appealing about knowing that she was in agony, and yet denying her the ability to even hear it. There was hope in sound after all. A random passerby, a friend, an animal, so many interruptions existed in the presence of a scream. Even with charms in place, sound could still escape.

Their first encounter had been silent. He’d relived it often because there had been something different in the way that she’d expressed her pain. She’d taught him to appreciate the finer qualities of silence, and while he was by no means through listening to her screams, her attempts to lure him into more dangerous waters meant that she was still too cognizant and in tune with her faculties to give him what he wanted. Painful screams weren’t enough to sat the darkness that churned in his gut, always craving more. It was ravenous for something deeper—for the kind of desperation that existed at the end of hope, when death looms, and the energy is sapped. He wanted to hear the bitterness of defeat in her dulcet tones, so clearly he would have to do better.

He flicked his and at her feet, another flesh rending spell dancing along his tongue. It was so easy to overlook extremities, but they were such sensitive parts of the body. Pain in those areas tended to radiate farther. Deeper. “No need to give me anything Mrs. Potter. I will take what I want, whether you wish it or not, and I will enjoy every moment of the reaping.” He promised softly, turning his wand back to her hands where he summoned scalding water to sluice over those grasping fingers. And all the while, the ropes of the incarcerus spell twisted and twined, pulling ever tighter, responding to her struggles like a living thing, its sole purpose to bind and contain.

[cherrybomb-witch]

Through the Looking Glass || Marlene & Evan || AU.

[atwistedoldfriend]

cherrybomb-witch:

“Are we back to this topic?”

A smile flashed across Marlene’s lips at the words.

“We are. Why going easy on you when I can complicate things?” she leaned closer to kiss his cheek softly, making it clearly she was just joking…well, mostly “I’m sorry, my mind is spinning a bit”.

Evan shifted beneath her, and the witch found herself wrapped in his arms while his hand ran through her hair. She felt herself sink under his piercing green gaze. When he spoke, Marlene felt like suddenly something thick and heavy had fallen on her, and her ears drummed as the words echoed inside. For a moment, she was too taken aback to speak. It had only been a simple phrase, but the impact on her was clear and immediate. This time, the dizziness she felt had nothing to do with lack of oxygen, or sickness.

“Yours” she repeated after what felt like an eternal pause, her whisper accompanied by a shy, breathless little laugh. Her cheeks had acquired a faint pink glow “That actually sounds as right as it feels…”

 She lifted her small hand and ran it tenderly over his hair, for once, smoothing it back rather than playing and messing with it like she normally did. She loved her independence, and took pride and relief in knowing she was no one’s property. Yet it somehow did not feel like she was being labelled as such right now. It felt like an intimate sense of belonging, like being amongst your most familiar things and knowing that they are part of you, like home. Hell, it was possible that what Evan had meant was something entirely different from what it meant to her, but still, it felt like those words simply fit. After all, being able to come and go between worlds and do as she pleased did not make Persephone any less Hades’s queen in the myths. It did not mean she was not free. 

When the witch’s hand reached the nape of the man’s neck, she pulled him down slowly for a kiss “I think I can be both things at the same time, after all. Independent, as always….and yours”. 

She listened to his plan, taking more comfort in the sound of his voice trying to sooth her more than it what he was saying, though she still remained focused enough to pay attention.

“Sounds good. But I don’t want you to think money is what I care about. It’s not an issue and it’s not something I am after” she insisted with a small hint of uncertainty in her frown. She felt compelled to add something else, but held back at the last minute. Hell, she had mildly forgotten how frustrating love could be, especially when the other person did not even believe in the very feelings you had.

“It’s a good call, though” she said instead “But I’m sure nothing is going to happen to you” it was hard to pinpoint whether if she was trying to convince Evan or herself, considering how fiercely she was holding on to each word “We’ll be alright. We’re smart enough to figure a way out of this mess”. And as a last resource, they could always leave. Marlene hated the thought of running, but it was something she would have been willing to sacrifice if the situation became desperate and demanded it. She just hoped it never came to that. Anyway, she was tired of thinking about the huge trouble they might be in. She decided to leave the topic for the night.

“Do you think Tolmi will survive the news once he finds out?” she asked suddenly, and though she felt a pang of guilt, she could not help the few giggles that escaped her lips before she could get a grip of them. Evan’s house elf absolutely hated her, she had long resigned herself to that reality. But he obviously held an unconditional devotion towards his master. What would happen when the poor creature found out the person he cared most about was having a child with the person he cared the least for!? Marlene could almost hear the sound of a kettle burning, only that instead of a kettle, in her mind it looked like Tolmi’s head with steam coming out of his floppy ears. She began to giggle a bit louder. To realize she could still laugh somehow lifted a weight from her shoulders. She could finally start to relax.

Forgetting about the half-finished tart, the little witch returned her attention to the fruit instead, since Evan seemed to be leaning towards the meat. It could hardly be described as a meal, but right now she just wanted solids to stay in her stomach, she would not risk eating anything heavier. She cuddled closer to Evan and the safety he ironically represented. Her hand was still caressing the soft skin of the back of his neck while she kissed the shell of his ear repeatedly. The horror finally started to retreat from her mind. She knew the weight of what she had done would still haunt her in the morning and probably for many, many days to come—years. But for now, her conscience had called a truce of sorts between her inner conflicts.

“I think I can be both things at the same time after all. Independent, as always…and yours.”

He’d never really been in tune with emotions in general, even his own. Anger was easy to experience because he was selfish and he knew it. Plus, there was no required depth for anger. It seemed to boil across the surface like oil drifting over water, never quite melding with the rest of the emotions that embodied most people. Still, her words offered him a certain level of comfort.

What he’d done was difficult enough to deal with without adding resistance from her. He knew he wanted to protect her, and he knew his code. It was what kept the hunger for more at bay and allowed him to maintain his façade. If he identified her as his—made her a part of his family so to speak, then everything that came with that was easier. Protecting her. Caring for her. Those were all aspects of that promise, and easily filed away to be adhered to. At least, that was how his brain worked. He compartmentalized people, identifying how to act and treat them accordingly.

His lips twitched faintly at her determination that he would be fine. She certainly had more faith than he did, but he was willing to cling to it because there were no other options at the moment. He didn’t argue with her about the money. He knew she’d be fine without his support, but he’d provide it all the same. Even if all of his inheritance went into a trust for their child, Evan would see to it those funds went where he wanted them to go, and that was all there was to it.

“Do you think Tolmi will survive the news once he finds out?”

He chuckled softly and nodded to the tray, “Trust me, Tolmi already knows.” He said evenly. “And he will love the babe. Tolmi has always enjoyed taking care of things and a babe will keep him busy. His main complaint has always been the danger that you represented because Tolmi knew where I stood. Now that things have changed…” He shook his head, “He won’t give you anymore grief.” Though in truth, Evan knew that had more to do with his own statement than anything else. Tolmi would have resisted until the bitter end, but his claim made it pointless. The house elf would understand now that she wasn’t ever going away and he’d deal with it.

He watched her nibble at the fruit again, but he didn’t reach for more of the meat and cheese. He wasn’t prone to snacking in general, and right now the world was too wibbly-wobbly for him to feel hungry. Finally he just relaxed back, holding her, enjoying the petting that was so unusual and yet…nice. “You should get some sleep.” He murmured at last, that need tugging at his eyes as well. “I will still be here in the morning, I promise.” He added, reaching for his wand and sending the tray to the table across the room.

He took a moment longer to scour the bed, making sure no crumbs had escaped, then he drew up the covers, tucking them over her petite frame, though he made no effort to change their position. Somehow he knew she wasn’t ready for separation, and he was just sleepy and comfortable enough to be okay with it. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, wrapping his arms loosely around her once again as he wiggled down a little more into the pillows before he dropped his head back to the headboard and closed his eyes. “There will be plenty of time to brainstorm tomorrow.”

[atwistedoldfriend]

Sequins || Alecto & Evan || Stripper AU

[atwistedoldfriend]

misscarrow:

She wasn’t nervous, it was just his presence, he was so close to her that made it hard to think coherently. Alecto wasn’t scared of killing this man, she had done it before. Besides, there was something so arousing and exciting about Evan’s striking green eyes on her and if his eyes made her feel like that… well, she couldn’t possibly imagine how his hands would feel.

She might be a dancer, but Alecto was, above all things, curious. When she wasn’t dancing or training, she was reading… and watching too many crime related shows and documentaries for her own good. Honestly, though, with the amount of information that she retained, she could easily be an employee for any forensics department.

“I c-can’t see….” He repeated again and Alecto smirked.

“I know, darling, it’s all going to be over very soon” she said in her sweet and soft tone of voice. She was about to say something else but she felt Evan’s hands on her body first and then pulling her closer to him, making her let out a soft sigh. She closed her eyes, tilting her head to the side and slightly resting against him as he took in her scent. “That’s true” she breathed as his lips brushed her neck, causing her to shiver at the mere action. “I’ve always been amused by other people’s stupidity” she confessed even though she knew that was not exactly what he wanted.

She wasn’t able to resist herself and before she could even knew it, her hand moved to the back of his neck, gently pulling him closer her. “You know… in ancient times, there was this law that they used for thieves…” she explained, slowly turning to face him, keeping her body pressed against his. Her gentle hands moved to his waist and she started guiding them towards the table that had all his tools on it. “They used to say: an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth…” she hummed, looking up at him as her lips ghosted his, but making sure not to touch them. One of her hands abandoned his hips and reached to take an axe that was right beside him. 

“Now we both know that that rule is out of date” she smiled, wrapping her fingers around the axe and finally pulling away from him. The blonde took a few step backwards and then turned around and rounded poor Ben. “BUT, we must make sure he doesn’t get his hands on anything else… I mean, once a thief, always a thief, right?” She grinned, twirling the axe for a moment before dropping the sharp blade right on the man’s wrist and chopping his hand off.

A faint smile twitched along his lips at her response. It was always intriguing to see how someone would react to any sort of appeal to sexuality. Some became effusive, others stiffened up, too awkward in their own skin to truly relax into the experience. Alecto knew how to keep the play going. She was somehow more sensual and illusive at the same time, immediately appealing to his desires. However it was her next statement that truly set his mind at ease.

“BUT, we must make sure he doesn’t get his hands on anything else…”

He watched intently as she plucked up the ax, his eyes flaring with increasing interest. After all, she could have reacted to their current situation in half a dozen different ways, but instead of freaking out or going crazy on him, she seemed to not only remain completely present, but also to revel in in, which he definitely approved of. He made no move to hinder her as she backed away from him, just watched.

She didn’t disappoint.

Ben screamed, his face contorting with horror as he looked in the direction of his hand, though thanks to her first bit of handiwork, he couldn’t actually see the stump of his hand. Evan closed his eyes for a moment as the man’s agony washed over him. Glorious. He actually wasn’t sure what turned him on more: Ben’s screams, or her bloodthirsty approach. Ben’s blood continued to gush copiously from his wrist since they hadn’t bothered tying his hand off first, and as his life waned, his screams dwindled as well. It took only a few minutes before the man had slumped entirely.

Without missing a beat, Evan stepped forward, spinning his unexpected companion for the evening’s entertainment back toward their victim. Catching her hand, he guided it to Ben’s neck, intentionally crowding her space. “Close your eyes.”

He instructed softly, ducking close enough to brush his lips along her pulse. “Feel.” He practically purred against her skin, wanting her to experience that slow stuttering fade of life because there was something powerful about it to his mind. She’d taken a life, not out of rage or self-preservation, but because she’d wanted to. That required a special kind of consideration to his mind.