gryffinwhore

gideon prewett, gryffindor, keeper, twin, glorious pain in the arse. love yourself to { death }

[sweetsorrowrpg]

Setting fire to our insides| Gideon & Isabelle

Isabelle heaved, saliva coating her tongue, her eyes bleary and hands shaking while grasping at her sides. A hasty escape from the room of requirement left little time for appearances; her dress hung loosely from her shoulders, her shoes clutched in her hand while she desperately tried to navigate the school halls. “So stupid…” She cried under her breath squeezing her eyes shut in hopes to forget the look on Amos’s face when she left him without explanation, without anything to hold onto. Snapping at a group of oblivious second years Isabelle’s voice felt void even to her, the sounds she made muffled as if she were hearing them from under ocean waves. Every time she opened her eyes chaos clouded her vision, blood running through the streets, screaming for missing loved ones. Isabelle couldn’t make sense of the last few hours; they were just kids, just innocent kids they had no place fighting for their lives. Taking in an unsteady breath Isabelle stumbled into a wall where she braced herself, her forehead pressed against stone as an unbridled sob ripped past her lips from a place she’d done well to keep buried. She’d done well despite the sharp claws of monsters who wanted nothing more than to tear her apart piece by piece until she no longer held any semblance of who Isabelle thought she was. Throughout the castle a cacophony of noise washed over her, it almost felt like she never left Hogsmeade, that perhaps she was still there, her wand shaking in her grasp as she fought her way to refuge pulling the closest people to her in hiding with her. She was alone now, everyone brushing past her in search of friends, no one was looking for her, no one watching her slip into the bathroom, no eyes watching her legs crumble from under her weight as she slid down the wall, her hand clutching her chest, the feeling of heated lips and manic laughter tangling together and choking her until sobs burned her lungs and shaking made her fingers ache.

@gprewetts

@g

[gprewetts]

Gideon didn’t know what to do with himself, such events played on the worst of him. Despite knowing everyone he cared about was perfectly fine, it left him on edge, looking for the fight that he hadn’t been granted. Pacing the corridor in pursuit of something, anything to deal with, his eyes settled upon a shaken third year. “You alright, pal?” he questioned, a degree of fondness in his tone and sympathy playing on his even features as he regarded the younger boy. The third year nodded hastily in response, standing a little taller in what Gideon could only assume was an attempt to appear unaffected by it all. “A girl went into the bathroom crying though.”

With a wistful sigh, Gideon offered a nod of acknowledgement. “I’ll deal with it, go catch up with your friends.” Truthfully, he hated dealing with tears. Molly had the tendency to cry about everything and unlike everyone else in the household, he usually met such displays with a roll of his eyes. Chewing at the inside of his cheek, he hesitantly entered the bathroom, quite unsure what he was getting himself into-- a scared first year or a sixth year more concerned about her cheating boyfriend?

But what he wasn't prepared for was his eyes to fall upon dark locks and the complete hysteria of Isabelle. Even in such a state he felt a gravitational pull towards her and for a moment, he just watched her cry her heart out. What was more unsettling was the twisting in his own chest at the sight. It hurt watching her hurt and he wasn’t sure if it could be attributed to common empathy or the soft spot he held for her. “Isabelle,” he prompted softly from the doorway, unsure if it was enough to get her attention.

Shuffling uncomfortably on the spot, he concluded he couldn’t just stand there. Making his way to her side, he kneeled beside her, his hand finding its way to her jaw and his thumb brushing soothingly across her cheek. “What are you doing, hm?” he questioned, a slight chuckle to his words-- his own way of dealing with the events. “This about Hogsmeade?”

[grxwishart-blog]

Hogsmeade trips, especially the first of the year, always managed to cheer Greer up. Whether she was feeling pressure from a building workload of assignments or gearing up for a tough match a weekend trip into Hogsmeade always provided a good distraction. And despite her reputation of not being the greatest academic student in the castle the Gryffindor would always finish any and all work the Friday night before so she could spend as much time as possible in the wizarding village without the worry of approaching due dates.  

She had already made rounds to Honeydukes for something sweet to nibble on while she was studying throughout the week, Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop where she had encountered one too many loved up couples to stay for long, and Spintwitches Sporting Needs, a classic stop on her trips where she always had to look at the new Quidditch equipment. Overall Greer’s trip was turning out successful until the first scream pierced the air. Her stride immediately halted with her head whipping toward the sound, unmistakably one of fear as opposed to excitement or exhilaration. Something was wrong, something was terribly wrong.   

The ensuing chaos that happened afterward caused Greer’s protective instincts to be kicked into high gear and instead of retreating to the castle as many students were doing, as professors arriving to the scene had encouraged, Greer started ducking into buildings to help in the round up of the younger students. Third years were so fresh to these outings that she doubted they knew where to go or what to do, and she was proven correct by the amount of the students she found hiding in bathroom stalls or cowering under tables. 

She was just finishing checking in Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop when the building caught fire. The blast sent her sprawling forward out into the cobblestone streets and her hands, reaching out to catch her fall, were greeted with shards of glass from the front windows tearing into the soft skin of her palms. Blood started to pool in the small cuts as she shakily got back to her feet, but she was too distracted by the blaze quickly engulfing the building to notice. It wasn’t until she felt a weight on her shoulder in the form of a hand that she snapped out of her daze and jerked away from the touch. 

“Bloody hell, you can’t just grab people when there’s snatchers running around! Do you know how close I was to punching you in the face?”  

[gprewetts]

Gideon had always enjoyed the atmosphere of Hogsmeade and in a manner of seconds it had been destroyed with the piercing ring of a scream and a cloud of smoke. It seemed like his mind was five paces behind everyone else’s as the panic settled in and the chaos began. Stood blinking as he struggled to process it, McGonagall’s orders shook him from his daze. Taking a glance at the woman, he instantly darted off in the opposite direction. She’d try to usher him out and that simply wasn’t a possibility in the absence of his brother, Edgar, Frank, Kingsley, Greer-- people he knew to be deeper in the town.

Dodging his way through the mania, he sent students in the opposite direction, the occasional spark flying from the tip of his wand in the defence of the younger students. They were important, yes, but selfish instincts led him in pursuit of those he cared most about. Catching sight of a dark mane, he was granted a glimmer of hope that he could at least find one of them. Following the girl to the best of his ability between dodging curses and rubble, his eyes widened as he observed the blast.

“Shit,” he mumbled, glancing frantically across the street in pursuit of a clear route. Sending a hex flying to distract the nearest snatcher, he made a run for it again, his hand settling on the girl’s shoulder to turn her around. Greer. Despite the lack of warm welcome, he exhaled a sigh of relief. “Yeah. Nice to see you too, princess.” 

Glancing over his shoulder, he tugged her towards an alleyway, pausing momentarily to inspect her hands. Turning them over, Gideon offered her a slight smile that neither reassuring nor unsettling. “Could have been a lot worse,” he commented, his thumb brushing across the back of her hand until he became conscious of it and allowed her hands to drop. Even in the chaos, their strange dynamic was still at the top of his mind. “At least your hair always looks like you’ve been in an attack,” he muttered, mostly as reassurance to himself as tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, blatantly looking her over for any more signs of injury.

[amxs-dxggxry]

Blow for Blow II Gideon + Amos

Who: Gideon, Amos, Possible onlookers

When: Afternoon, 15 September 1976

Where: 2nd Floor Corridor

@gprewetts

His knuckles still hurt him. There was nothing unfamiliar about the feeling of his fist on bone, Amos had been a boxer for years and had an aversion to boxing gloves during regular practices. That wasn’t what haunted him. It was the look in the other boy’s eyes. The fear, and then the hatred. Perhaps Amos truly was losing his mind. It was the only explanation for his behavior. 

Amos had drifted to his early morning classes, trying to ignore the whispers. Word spread quickly in this castle, it should be no surprise that something people had witnessed would be widespread by the next day. He’d painted his usual smile on his face, despite knowing that most would realize how artificial it was. Play normal, and maybe things would be nearly normal. 

Detention hadn’t been a strong enough penalty. Professor Dumbledore had deemed it appropriate to confiscate his broom and bench the Quidditch Captain from the first game of the season. No broom meant he couldn’t even practice, which was a fairly large blow. He’d also been reminded of the possibility of losing his position as Captain if he continued getting into trouble. 

Between his throbbing knuckles, the constant replay of the conversation with the headmaster, and the whispers of his classmates Amos was on edge. Smiling, but uneasy. 

[gprewetts]

Gideon had been furious when Fabian had told him of what went down with Amos and had it not been for his soft request that he didn’t seek him out, he would have done so there and then. So he let the niggling frustration eat away at him whenever there wasn’t a suitable distraction at hand. How dare he hit his brother? And perhaps more importantly, how did he possibly think he’d get away with it?

His fist clenched at the thought and as he glanced up, his steely gaze settled upon a familiar face. He was smiling, the smug prick and that was enough to trigger the worst in Gideon. Releasing the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, the next hastened strides he took became a frantic blur of adrenaline as his fist collided with Amos’ face.

He thought very little of the consequences, mostly because he didn’t particularly care. Gideon enjoyed fighting, he genuinely believed that some people needed some sense knocked into them and in that moment, Amos was one of them. The sting to his knuckles was almost momentarily pleasant, like a release butt was beyond him how anyone could consider hurting Fabian and continue to do so when he refused to defend himself. The thought tasted like copper on his tongue.

“That was for Fabian but I hope you don’t mind a fair fight ‘cause the next one is for me.”

[gprewetts]

fabxprxwett:

     Fabian chuckled at Gideon’s words, shaking his head lightly. “Of course I am. I also suppose I’m your favorite person to annoy?” he quipped jokingly, cocking a brow up in the process. “Wow, the ‘boring eagles’ are already raving?” The younger twin made air quotes and let that dwell in his mind. Did he want to stay here, completely alone and think about life or should he go and get drunk; get to relive those weird memories from a few years back? 

     He caught the shirt midair, sighing deeply. “Do I have to? Let me say I am VERY tired.” With a pleading look, Fabian knew he was nowhere near escaping Gideon’s push so the boy simply jumped out of bed and changed his shirt, throwing his old one on the bed ( for once he did not freak out about a messy bed ). “Now, brother,” Fabian approached his twin, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I believe it’s the twin power duo they are waiting for.”

     Passing Gideon, Fabian opened the door and nodded towards the exit. “Lead the path, you party animal.”

“My favourite everything,” he assured his brother, a grin fixed on his lips as he began to wear him down. Fabian hated missing out and it was incredibly easy for him to appeal to that. Besides, the prospect of a brotherly night of booze and good company was too good to pass up. Feigning a look of concern on the topic of Fabian’s exhaustion, he dismissed it with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll live somehow.”

Practically beaming at the lack of opposition posed, Gideon ruffled his brother’s hair as he led him out the doorway. “We ought not to keep them waiting then.” Making his way through the common room, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the severe lack of upperclassmen and the sullen expression of the kids left behind. “Alternatively, you can start a third year study session if that makes you any happier-- looks like the poor sods need something to do.”

[gprewetts]

bella-isabelle:

Simple gestures were a foreign concept, one that perplexed Isabelle in a way that made her dizzy. Her entire life had been grand. Grand in gestures, in anger, in secrets, in charm, and loneliness. Many had made the mistake of believing that to sway Isabelle they’d need to be splendid in all measures of life. It didn’t take long for Isabelle to grow tired of monotonous shows of support and affection Even her parents had made the same mistake twice over with lavish birthday parties adorned with golden fountains and silk flowers. So, when Gideon’s thumb brushed the back of her hand in a gesture meant to be reassuring Isabelle felt her chest tighten, the breath she was ready to exhale stuck to her lips as her throat burned. It seemed that the abundance of the extraordinary had left Isabelle with an unknown desire for the unadulterated intimacy shared between people of whom she could be close with. Her eyes darted to his; they weren’t close, but they could be as close if she’d let him. Her fingers had twitched, and on impulse, she nearly pulled away. Gently she flexed her fingers, flexing her hold back on his without saying a word; some things were better left to speculation and silence. Isabelle cut her eyes up at Gideon, “Pfft.” She huffed and waved her free hand. She didn’t know that, but she’d rather die than admit she didn’t know something. “Hold your breath and wait.” Isabelle teased, an impish grin matching his as she tilted her head and fluttered her lashes in his direction. Taking a breath, Isabelle swore she could brush her lashes against his with how close they were; another one of those desired and intimate moments taken for granted. Every minute spent like this Isabelle felt her bravado wavering, a burning question; Who had the better resolve? Eyes widened, Gideon’s shoes lay abandoned, and Isabelle would be lying if she said she thought for a second he wouldn’t have taken the dare. Reaching Isabelle caught his tie, swinging it until it wrapped around her wrist she watched clearly amused. “You need music, Prewett.” A light laugh parted her lips, and Isabelle shook her head, He did, his resolve was astonishing. Biting her bottom lip, Isabelle fought a smile, a hum in response, “Wonderfully- You’re the one nearly naked in the corridors.” Raising her wrist Isabelle gathered his shoes, “You know I think I’ll keep this tie for posterity. ” Untying the ribbon from her hair, Isabelle let her curls fall around her shoulders before bridging the space to take his wrist she tied the cobalt ribbon around his wrist, “Now it’s a fair trade.” Stepping opposite of him Isabelle gestured her finger up and down, “Lose the trousers then we will go and get those omniculars…If you’re suddenly shy I’ll take my shoes off. It’s the least I can do.” Stepping gracefully from her shoes Isabelle kicked them near his and nodded in his direction knowing if she stopped moving for a moment her bravado may dissolve.

Physical touch was blissfully simple for Gideon. There was little doubt about what it conveyed, it was thoughtless and for him, relatively inconsequential. It didn’t have the same scorn as words, it didn’t present false promises or pretty lies. The squeeze of his hand told him that there were building something; whether it be trust or momentary understanding. He would be entirely unsurprised if she chose to never acknowledge his presence after this, it appeared the easy option.

A peel of laughter left his own lips at her clear amusement and he merely rolled his shoulders in a shrug. He still felt reassured, comfortable-- truthfully, distracting her this way was far easier for him than trying to unriddle the inner workings of her mind. “It doesn’t bother me,” he confessed, noting the brightness in his eyes and the way her smile lit up her visage. Even if he was concerned about his lack of clothing, he imagined it would be very much worth it for the way she was looking at him.

Raising an inquisitive brow as she freed her hair from its confines, he found himself half enamoured by the dark curls and half taken aback as she began to tie the ribbon around his wrist. Though sceptical, he found it endearing nevertheless. If he wasn’t so lost in the moment, he might have paused to consider the claim it appeared to stake on him.

“Na-uh,” he interreupted her, “You’re not making the rules, princess.” Gideon couldn’t help but wonder how well that would settle with her, she seemed like she needed the control. Raising his hands in his defence, he complied nevertheless. Tugging down the zipper and ridding himself of his trousers, he disregarded them beside his growing pile of clothes. “Am I sufficiently vulnerable now?” he questioned, the amusement in his tone suggested that he truly felt nothing of the sort as he stood in the corridor clad in naught but his boxers.

Retrieving his wand from its place on the side, he nodded towards the nearest doorway. “Alohamora,” he muttered under his breath, a grin tugging to his lips as the door unlocked with a satisying click. Stepping out of the way to allow her through, his eyes darted across the room. Admittedly, it wasn’t the first time he’d staged a retrieval mission in Filch’s office but it appeared so much smaller than it had four years prior. “You want to play look out or help me find them?”

[lucreziazabini]

ʰᵉᵈᵒᶰᶤˢᵗᶤᶜ | ᵍᶤᵈᵉᵒᶰ & ˡᵘᶜʳᵉᶻᶤᵃ

[gprewetts]

lucreziazabini:

She’d tried to get in touch with Gideon for a while now. Maybe his good looks were the first reason, especially now after he’d come closer and she could fully admire his cheekbones – his looks definitely played a part in her decision. The Slytherin Queen chuckled as he described their little date, more cryptic than anyone before her, or more direct. No idle talk about possible interests and the weather – no, a straight cut straight to her desires. If she wasn’t interested yet, she definitely would be now. 

“We definitely speak the same language, Prewett. I’m intrigued, which is an understatement, but let’s keep it at that. So, tell me – are we going to drink Butterbeer or will you actually serve me something more exciting? I’d love an old Firewhiskey and a side of crisps – and a blanket. We’re still stuck in September, so there’s going to be some cuddling,” she said, raising an eyebrow in the process. “So, you’re going to hide with me from everyone else? Good choice – privacy.”

Gideon had very few encounters with Lucrezia but he’d built some expectations of her over the years. In some ways she was exactly what he expected and in others, he still found himself surprised. “I don’t like to disappoint,” he quipped back, his gaze studying her intently and taking in the softer features that one couldn’t observe from a distance. She presented a new challenge, the best sort, one that appeared out of his depths. 

“You’re lucky that I’m quite good at picking up subtle hints, otherwise I might have shown up with champagne and a feast instead.” Her raised brow was met with one of his own and a faint chuckle. “Why would I offer to share your company when I can have you all to myself?” Gideon questioned, his characteristic smirk working its way onto his once more. An amusing concept, he doubted she was ever completely and utterly present in her liaisons, part of her always tucked away with someone else. “Nine then, don’t stand me up-- I’m not sure my poor heart can take it.”

[grxwishart-blog]

The first private quidditch practice of the year was quite invigorating for Greer which could only be expected for a girl who spent 95% of her free time on the pitch. Being back on her broom with nothing but air beneath her feet and the stands surrounding her was enough to get her pumped for the coming season. Of course there was still the slight issue of team captaincy, but she wasn’t about to let James Potter taint her thoughts while she was trying to get some drills in. Greer was going to keep her head on straight, stay sharp and focused, and show everyone in the stands during the first game the kind of talent that had been skipped over. 

Once Greer felt she’d had enough for the day she headed back down to the ground, pulling up just short of crashing. It wasn’t until she swung her leg over the broom and her feet landed though that she became aware of a figure watching her from the edge of the pitch. Strolling over with a small smirk playing on her lips she cocked her head when she was close enough to identify the person. “Look, I know I’m great and all, but there’s really no reason to stand in the shadows and gawk at me. Not when the stands would give a much better view.” 

[gprewetts]

Despite her constant presence in his life - at breakfast, in lessons, in the common, at dinner - Gideon had barely had a second alone with Greer since they’d gotten back and he felt compelled to do something about that. Making his way down to the pitch, he wasn’t surprised to find her there, in fact, he knew her routines far too well. Leaning against one of the stands, a grin stretched across his features as he merely observed. While it wasn’t a terrible use of his time, he was relieved to see her land-- he wasn’t sure he was prepared to wait for her to tire out, which appeared to be never.

“Great isn’t the word I’d use,” he teased, pushing his back from the boulder to greet her. Digging his hands in his pockets, fondness swept across his features. It was easy to forget how much he favoured her company when she wasn’t around, but it was all too clear now. “Did you practice at all over summer? I can’t tell.”

[gprewetts]

bella-isabelle:

Gideon spoke with such fortitude that Isabelle felt inclined to believe him, but a prickling sensation was climbing her spine leading her to anxiety had Isabelle a little more than nervous. Handing over the reigns at any given moment proved near impossible, but the thrill of doing something she had denied herself when she’d made a habit of not denying herself a single thing flooded her with a sense of reckless abandonment. Looking at to see the confident smile on Gideon’s face reminded Isabelle of the youth she had been chasing realizing in that moment that sometimes you needn’t look further than a smile. A shame her own had been caught somewhere between gritted teeth for so long that the mere idea caused a type of unexplainable pain, like realizing you’d been missing something for years. Her loss so profound that Isabelle didn’t notice the absence of anything until confronted by another person who radiated it so effortlessly, and Isabelle thought if the sun were a person it might just be Gideon Prewett. “I can trust you.” It felt as if she was hearing her voice come from another person, but a quick scan around the room and Isabelle was confident it was just her and him and certainty radiated from the tips of her fingers once his laced with hers. Reckless abandonment Isabelle thought while letting Gideon lead her, an echo of laughter catching up with his, an excited follower, a nervous turning as she leaped into the unknown with someone who’d been nothing but a name she’d known minutes prior. “Hate it?” Isabelle’s heart jerked and the hold on his hand tightened, if she hadn’t maybe she would have ran to safety, called base and demanded time out but she held on, her eyes wide and her heart erratic in it’s melody, playing an old tune that Isabelle had forgotten when she convinced herself it was time to grow up. However, when you’re running the halls with Peter Pan incarnate it’s hard not to find little bits of your lost selves in the cracks of laughter, and whisperings of childhoods past. Isabelle narrowed her eyes, shaking her head, “You’re completely absurd!” Isabelle whisper-shouted, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips. “It’s almost worse that he has them…I do wonder why he took them from such an astounding gentlemen like yourself.” Waving her free hand, Isabelle sucked in a breath, “No need to strip when you’ve got those, eh?” Rolling her eyes once more Isabelle pulled Gideon by the hand closer so they were nearly nose to nose, “Maybe I can’t make stipulations to this game, but considering the nature of your request I think it’s only fair you do this in your knickers.” Isabelle raised a daring brow, “Veela solidarity and all.”

I can trust you. Not I trust you or I do trust you but he supposed trust was a thing to be earned and a few feeble words didn’t warrant it. Gideon trusted easily, he had an open heart and a readiness to put it on the line but he suspected that was a consequence of his upbringing. He hadn’t internalised hatred or suspicion but acceptance and faith in humanity. Part of him wondered whether such internalisation could be undone and he was eager to find out.

Chuckling softly at the look of fear that briefly crossed her features, his thumb brushed soothingly across the back of her hand. A mistake, he was sure, but an unintentional one at that. It was hard to remain complacent when every little response she displayed drew him in further like a rope tied around his neck. “Completely absurd,” he agreed with a pointed nod of his head, his expression entirely solemn until a grin stretched across his symmetrical features.

“May I remind you,” Gideon started, a devilish glint in his eye as he paused for dramatic effect, “That omnioculars are for recording Quidditch matches and not seeing through physical matter-- I might still need your help for that.” Such responses came so easily to him, slipped from his tongue like deeply memorised poetry, there was an art to being such a graceful flirt. Noting the sudden shift in proximity, he barely fought back a smirk at her proposal as he weighed up his options. Nipping down on his lip whilst he came to a decision, his forehead briefly rested against hers. “Big mistake,” he informed her, peeling himself away and kicking off his shoes.

Nimble fingers worked at his tie, tossing the discarded article to her as though to accept her dare-- was there a better way to show her how to live than stripping to make a point? Glancing across the seemingly empty corridor, Gideon made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, meeting her gaze with a blatant smirk as it revealed taut muscle that he made such an effort to maintain. Undoing the buckle of his belt, he simply paused for a moment. “Apparently it’s no fun playing dares with someone you know will do it, how’s it working for you?”

[gprewetts]

💋 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[gprewetts]

💋

[gprewetts]

💋

[gprewetts]

💋 ( cackles )

[gprewetts]

💋 ( I have no shame, I'm sorry <3 )

[gprewetts]

💋

[say-it-like-u-meme-it]

Send “💋” For a gif of how my muse would KISS yours.

[ask-mmd-sud-italia-blog]

Put a symbol in my ask for a character that...

♟ - my muse obeys ♛ - my muse admires ☯ - acts as a foil to my muse ♥ - my muse tends to cling to ☒ - my muse refuses to talk to ☀ - my muse refuses to talk about ☑ - my muse wants to know better ✉ - my muse likes to pester / talk to ★ - has the complete trust of my muse ☢ - my muse cannot stand being around ♫ - my muse likes to get into antics with ? - always manages to confuse my muse ♡ - my muse is crushing on / in love with ☎ - my muse first contacts in a emergency ☃ - my muse has very mixed feelings about ☮ - makes my muse feel calm when around them ✗ - my muse likes to pick arguments / fights with ◎ - makes my muse feel empty when around them ☁ - makes my muse wish they could fix their relationship ☊ - keeps my muse grounded or my muse keeps grounded ! - makes my muse piss their pants / run in fear at their presence ☓ - has scarred my muse in some way ( physically, mentally, emotionally, etc )

[sweetsorrowrpg]

@gprewetts

“Looking at him hurt”