𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖆 .

two roads diverged in a wood, and i, took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference. private first war multi - muse . penned by taylor .

[leightum]

[beenhexed]

cruciatvs​:

@beenhexed​ asked me for a fluffy starter               meme. – accepting.

Moments like these were rare — moment of softness, of warmth, his body not a weapon but a shell to keep her safe. Narcissa and him were catching the first warm rays of sun in the lavish gardens surrounding their estate, a blanket spread out below them, lush pillows supporting their backs, an exquisite meal in front of them. Strawberries, a bottle of ice cold pumpkin juice, triangle sandwiches. If things were different, there’d be a bottle of champagne as well, and raspberries to float in them — but luckily, things were different.

His fingers traced Narcissa’s belly. “I can’t believe he’s nearly there.” A pause. “Or she, of course.” Sometimes Lucius did wonder, whether there was a disconnect between this side of himself, near romantic, and the side of him that wore a mask. Another part of him was impressed by his adaptability, and thought it nothing but a great skill, one to hone and preserve. And who cared, anyway? While most aspects of his life were perfectly crafted lies, this good thing was real. “I hope he doesn’t cry too much, though.”

Nights she remained awake for hours, alone and missing the warmth on his side of the bed had been far from few -- it was agonizing awaiting his return home, always giving into the fear lingering in the back of her mind that something could be wrong but moments like this had made it all worth it. There was a time, only a handful of years ago where this had been completely unimaginable. Her mother had been wrong, money could not buy everything -- it could not buy Narcissa peace or love, she had been lucky to find that herself. 

She was aware no one else had the privilege of seeing Lucius in such a light, the way she was seeing him now with such an adoration. Perhaps it was tragic, but Narcissa was far too self-absorbed to want to share him with anyone else outside of their perfect little family. “ He’s certainly taking his sweet time. Not that I’m in a rush, “ The blonde knows how stuck he is on a boy and being the third failed attempt at one, Narcissa was privy on how much their families valued it. Whether she’d admit it with words, she would have been happy with anything -- still basking in the joy of being a mother at all. The lingering fear that all of this could collapse beneath her feet yet constantly lingered in the back of her mind but she couldn’t let it ruin her happiness. His comment causes a laugh to rattle from her chest, smile unmistakable. “ I don’t think that is one thing we get a say, unfortunately. Babies are quite loud. “

[beenhexed]

sectumscmpra​:

—  HARRIS PURKISS’ GRAVE, with doris purkiss  @beenhexed

the war was supposedly over. voldemort dead, a great deal of his followers also dead or imprisoned. they should be overjoyed, that the light outshone the darkness. but as richard stands in front of a grave he hoped he wouldn’t see for years to come, he can’t help but feel like this victory is pyrrhic. the order had faced too many losses already, in this year alone they’d lost countless to the siege, then the awful business with the potters and the child that was left behind. for years richie has carried the weight of the order’s trauma on his back akin to the muggle legend of atlas. richie would carry their weight even if it meant forgetting his own, he would tell himself someone will need me whether i am grieving or not. and he would continue. when the fear of losing hestia became all too much, he let her go in order to remain functional. the cost was debilitating but it was necessary, he would tell himself, over and over until he believed it. 

he wasn’t entirely sure doris would get his letter in time ( more of a scribbled note than a letter ). he’d lazily scrawled that he planned to change the flowers at dad’s grave and that if she came with him, he’d buy her lunch at her favourite place in london. what he’d opted to leave out was the fact that he could sleep, that he knows something was wrong about the ‘accident’. that or he’s finally let delusions in. when she comes into view, there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. the flowers are already changed, fresh sunflowers rest neatly against the headstone. “nice to know you’re not ignoring my letters.” his tone indicates a tired form of humor, arms opening up to embrace her as walks within reach. “i’m glad you came.”

the war might’ve been over but it did not mean any of them were free --- the trauma had been ingrained in all of them, at least for doris she couldn’t rid the guilt that her father’s death was her fault. it was her exposure active in the order that brought this upon them all and whether richie was going to place the blame on her or not did not change the fact that their father was buried six feet under and many of her friends were dead. doris should have been relieved the dark lord was defeated, everything was declared peaceful yet again but the idea of celebration left a sour taste in her mouth. there was no time to pop bottles and cheer, not when they walked upon a graveyard and still searched for many lost. she had not been hit the hardest by this war but too many friends had been lost --- doris had been more consumed with fear and grief than she could have ever anticipated but despite the hollow feeling in her chest, she accepted the scribbled invite. hoped she would not lose him too. 

she had meant to write back, send an owl or something but her mind had remained elsewhere. still, she shows --- empty handed but forces a smile once her eyes set on her older brother. doris flings herself into his arms, enveloping herself in a familiar embrace --- one she missed far too often. tears well up but she’s quick to wipe them away with the back of her sleeve, holding onto him almost fearing if she let go too soon he’d become another ghost in her memories. “ why would i? “ she inquires, brows furrowed together in confusion. “ how’s everything with you? y’know.. other than the obvious. “

[beenhexed]

cruciatvs​:

doris purkiss and mary macdonald.

@beenhexed​ asked me for an angsty starter                meme. – accepting.

She couldn’t stand it, their apartment. It was hauntingly empty without Ariel there, her bedroom an abandoned abyss, a black hole. You should be familiar with grief by now, a voice in her head told her strictly, but Mary felt frozen, in stead. As she laid in bed on her free day, staring at the all too familiar ceiling above her – she stared at it in moments like this, trailing the cracks, endlessly – unable to move. She didn’t want to be faced with the kitchen, the living room, all the little things that reminded her of Ariel. 

Maybe she and Doris ought to move. Leave this haunted place behind. Find a smaller place, one that would fit two people rather than three. She closed her eyes for a moment. Doris. She gave herself five more minutes and then swung her legs out of bed, dressing herself in muggle clothes. She found Doris in their small living room, and took a moment to find her voice. “Let’s go for a walk. I miss the beach.” Her words were spoken matter-of-factly, and she wished her edges were softer, kinder, smoother. For Doris, at least. She wasn’t the only one aching, after all. “I can’t stand it here. Everything just — it reminds me too much of her. And Bowie needs a wee, and I dunno.” She could hear her voice crack. “We could talk.”

Doris wasn’t positive if she could talk anymore, what was there left to say? She signed up for this war to become better --- to do better, knew better than most that some of them would be lost but not this many, not this fast. It was a never-ending funeral and she was only awaiting the day for death to collect them too. She was not naive enough to think there would be a happy ending for them all, any hope she managed to grasp onto had died with Ariel and all that was left was more grief. 

She wanted nothing more than to retreat, crawl back into her childhood home and close her eyes, will all of this away but it would not fix anything. It couldn’t bring her father or their friends back, no matter how hard she wished for it too --- not the strongest magic in the world could reverse all this pain. Doris feels smaller than she ever has, curled up into the end of the couch like a child peeling back pages of an old book with disinterest. It has taken every bit of sense in her to understand Mary needed space but some days it was hard not to crawl into her space desperate for some company. Brows raise in question but there is no protest. The walls of the shared flat feel suffocating, it’s too empty without Ariel. “Okay,” Part of Doris wants to inquire if that is safe but the answer is wavering --- too obvious to even question. Nothing is safe anymore. “I-I’d like that... It’s too quiet in here.”

[outofcontextbonappetit]

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[whitleyisa-deactivated20181209]

Were you a club guy? Did you go out a lot before you were married?

[timotaychalamet]

House of Sand and Fog (2003) dir. Vadim Perelman

[ruzekburgess]

What are you doing here? I heard there was a poetry reading.

[nikish-sa]

[airfierce-deactivated20201208]

I was right.

[freshmoviequotes]

Knives Out (2019)

[kafk-a]

Louise Glück

[itslosersclub]

[slytherinnpride]

[hedaslayer]

And you loved me the same. That’s all. The rest is confetti.

[thursday]