Achilles Heel

It’s a most distressing affliction to have a sentimental heart and a skeptical mind. — Nagulb Mahfouz Leander Argyris seventh year ; ravenclaw

[leanderargyris-blog]

Pride!!

PRIDE  –  putting of one’s own desires, urges, wants, and whims before the welfare of people.

“Do you really think that you’re any better than me?” Leander’s words were hoarse, strained, hurt. “Do you really think that?”

Perhaps she was.

But that didn’t mean that Leander was going to admit that in the slightest. He was going to implode anything that he could in that moment.

He was sore. It was the third quidditch tryouts he’d done — third one failed as well. He wanted to channel the hurt and the embarrassment onto someone and that unfortunate soul had been a second year that had dared to watch him make a fool of himself and throw a comment right at Leander. The poor student left in tears after Leander snapped.

It was Selena that had seen the student run off, and the new prefect had opened her mouth to say something but Leander headed her off.

“Don’t even start. You have no idea what I’m feeling, or what I’m capable of.” He straightened his robes, hands sore and shaking from the tryouts. “Just fuck off.”

[leanderargyris-blog]

✧･ﾟvanity

VANITY  –  the excessive belief in one’s own abilities or attractiveness to others.

You knew you were easy on the eyes. It was something that you didn’t worry about, it was something that your anxiety didn’t touch ( but that’s a lie, now, isn’t it? ).

“Don’t tell me you only like me because I’m pretty, Ianthe,” you said one morning from where you had Ianthe pooled in your lap while sitting at the Ravenclaw table, trying your best to eat your breakfast and be social before she came and demanded your attention.

That earned you a pout. But not a move away from where she was in your lap.

“Or do, maybe I need to hear that, you don’t know.” Your words are a quiet rumble, the even tone that you’d hammered into yourself in third year — people were more likely to stay around you if you weren’t loud and brash… at least in your case.

Ianthe buried her face in your neck, and mumbled something you don’t remember anymore but at the time it made you laugh.

[leanderargyris-blog]

lust !!

LUST  –  intense longing, sexual or otherwise, that subverts propriety.

You told yourself you weren’t going to do this again. You told yourself, after the past summer in Italy, that you weren’t going to get attached.

So you try, and you try, and you try.

But you’re never one to do things in halves now are you? You have to do everything in full, in overflowing. ‘Too much’ is your descriptor. You’re always too much — too needy, too wanting, too full, too empty, too much.

Perhaps that’s why you keep doing this. Perhaps it’s some sort of self-punishment.

You hide your feelings with rough kisses, and rougher hands — needy, wanting… possessive? You don’t know what you are to him, you at once want to know and don’t. If you don’t know the specifics you can’t pinpoint the weak spots — you can’t jab at the soft points with carefully sharpened words.

You can’t ruin it if you don’t know what ‘it’ is.

[leanderargyris-blog]

girlishghost:

She was shifted as he pulled her closer, a small smile buoying the corners of her mouth at the action – it was both a dim and a bright thing, of diffused light, calmly spreading about her face, washing away her previous displeasure as a new tide of emotions was brought upon her. She stretched to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw before responding. “Lea,” she said, voice lilting. “You would never kick my ass at anything – you’d sooner tutor me: you’re too good to me,” she said, even as the sentiment brought a stone of anxiety into her throat – despite knowing that they’d been inseparable for their time here, she feared losing whatever he held towards her. It would be alright, she reassured herself, she’d branched out into several different horizons for when it happened.

He was a moment, and those inevitably ended, long as she wanted them to stretch on, but she’d long been accustomed to living for and losing in said moment. “Do you want me to make yours all pink? I will. It’s not an idle threat.”

She leaned against him even more than she was before, practically pooling in his arms, more held up by his structural integrity than by anything of hers, humming. “Is he not here for breakfast? Should we sneak something to him? I’d hate for him to go hungry.”

Leander hummed in contentment at the soft kiss to the underside of his jaw — he liked his and Ianthe’s casual affection. There wasn’t any underlying terror of how they could break one another’s heart ( could friends break one another’s hearts without being involved romantically? Leander didn’t want to think about it ) which, that underlying fear, usually resulted in him destroying the relationship before it could destroy him.

But this is going to end, Leander’s thoughts whipped through him, this is going to end and she won’t care about you after this year. Break it. Break it. Break it.

“I… could,” Leander’s protest was weak and he folded almost immediately after, “No, you’re right. I’d rather see you succeed than anything else.” A short laugh, one that made his shoulders jump. “Oh I know you would if I challenged you.”

A sigh at the intensified leaning — Ianthe is like a cat sometimes, I swear — and Leander responded, “No, or at least I’ve not seen him around. Maybe he’s eaten already? I got to breakfast late today.”

[leanderargyris-blog]

selenalarkinrpg:

The Gryffindor exhaled a smile, focusing on the pieces of pancake as they made their encore within Leander’s jaws. She glanced down at her food; a selection of fresh berries and porridge with toasted almonds sprinkled over the top; she no longer felt as hungry, but made a mental note to bring her own coconut flakes to add. She noticed his smile fall tense, so she averted her attention to the surrounding students in an effort to ease whatever anxiety he was feeling. She usually had this effect on people, for some reason or another. Was it her beauty? Her wealth? Her status within the school? She wasn’t necessarily sure, and if she was going to be honest, she didn’t really care either.

But for the most part, she had a reputation to uphold, and therefore she required some level of patience. “Charms and also…, Astronomy, which to be honest, I’m actually really looking forward to.”

“Well, as your Head Girl, I most definitely do know when Quidditch practice starts.” Selena laughed with newfound, genuine enthusiasm. She was an avid Quidditch supporter, and although she never played, her father was something of an expert back in his day. “Pretty sure Ravenclaw practice starts Wednesday, but to be honest you can always check with one of your prefects! But hold on, I didn’t know you play Quidditch?”

Leander’s anxiety left as suddenly as he had gotten it. The inferred plasticity of the words, of the assumed slight between them that his thoughts had dreamed up — She was just being nice, not condescending, Leander, he told himself, but the other string of thoughts screamed at him— you don’t know that. She’s talking down to you. You fucking idiot. — made him swallow. Made him clench his jaw.

“Astronomy is always interesting,” he forced out, trying ( and failing ) at keeping his voice level and disinterested — it instead sounding hissed and short. He didn’t elaborate any further on the subject, despite them likely having astronomy together.

He shook his head. “Nah, I don’t play quidditch. I just like to watch the practises.” Leander had several embarrassing tryouts ( three years in a row of trying and failing to get a position ) but he wasn’t about to bring that up. “Any practises, it doesn’t have to be the Ravenclaw team.” He paused. “You ever play?”

[leanderargyris-blog]

bcllast:

The first day of classes is comfortingly hectic, something softer than chaos but stronger than some mornings’ languish, cloaking over the Great Hall with a practiced efficiency. As his own morning’s breakfast is abandoned upon the lion’s table (one roommate thumping his shoulder in farewell while the other mockingly salutes, shouting “Remember to be a good boy for us, Jamie!” at his back), James winks at a passing professor, titling forward in a minute bow as they sigh, a smile fighting its way unwanted at their lips, and continue on their way. 

He rounds up to the Ravenclaw table, brightening at the sight that he’s met with. “Now, mi amor, didn’t your parents ever teach you manners?” The words trickle out of his mouth, teasing in nature and accompanied by a smirk at his lips. His hand draws up to poke at Leander’s cheek, a laugh drudging from his throat. “Good ‘ol Latin for me, mate.” A sigh of grandeur puffs from his lips, hand catching on his chest as he moves to take a seat on the bench and peeks at the other’s timetable. “Looks like we can’t all be Tinker Bells and Fairy Godmothers, yeah? Just when Flitwick comes on by in a few years to kiss your arse, tell him I was there first.” 

His elbows come to rest behind him on the table, his body outlooking the hall and a smile practically chirping at his lips as he looks toward Leander. “Just Latin tomorrow and Philo, I think ⏤ they’re trying to tear us apart! The fiends.”

Leander went stiff for a moment at the use of Italian, memories ( good? bad? who knew ) surging back at the words. “Oh fuck off,” he said, words slipping out with ease, the smallest vein of past regrets running through them. “Didn’t yours? Or were they too busy bein’ famous?”

Perhaps it was a low blow, but also perhaps Leander didn’t care at the moment.

“Ah, I’m taking Latin this year again too.” He sobered up from jabbing at James, instead deciding to take the pause to pop another piece of pancake into his mouth. James flopping down onto the bench making vibrations shake up to the middle of his back.  “Of course I will,” he said after a laugh — loud and unexpected, and enough so that Leander purposefully quieted his voice for the next sentence, “you’ve been the kisser of my arse for how long now?”

“I’m also taking Philo, but I don’t think ours are at the same times.” A pause, then an over exaggerated look of surprise. “They are! Don’t they know we have to have classes together?” Another laugh, though a lot less barking than the first. “Maybe they finally learned. Only took them, what? Six years? Fuck, and they imply that us not getting a concept in a week means we’re slow.”

[johannescena]

42 character development questions!

PHYSICAL PRESENCE AND GESTURE. 1. How do they move and carry themselves? Pace, rhythm, gestures, energy? 2. How much physical space do they use, active and at rest? 3. How do they position themselves in a group? Do they like to be the center of attention, or do they hang back at the edges of a crowd? 4. What is their size and build? How does it influence how they use their body, if it does? 5. How do they dress? What styles, colors, accessories, and other possessions do they favor? Why? 6. What are they like in motion–in different environments, and in different activities? What causes the differences between these? 7. How do they physically engage with other people, inanimate objects, and their environment? What causes the differences between these? 8. Where and when do they seem most and least at ease? Why? How can you tell? 9. How do they manifest energy, exhaustion, tension, or other strong emotions? 10. What energizes and drains them most? 11. How are they vocally expressive? What kind of voice, accent, tones, inflections, volume, phrases and slang, and manner of speaking do they use? 12. How are they bodily expressive? How do they use nonverbal cues such as their posture, stance, eyes, eyebrows, mouths, and hands? DISPOSITION AND TEMPERAMENT. 13. How do they greet the world — what is their typical attitude towards life? How does it differ in different circumstances, or towards different subjects? Why do they take these attitudes, and why do they change? How do these tend to be expressed? 14. What do they care deeply about? What kind of loyalties, commitments, moral codes, life philosophies, passions, callings, or spirituality and faith do they have? How do these tend to be expressed? 15. What kind of inner life do they have — rich and imaginative? Calculating and practical? Full of doubts and fears? Does it find any sort of outlet in their lives? 16. Do they dream? What are those dreams like? 17. Are they more shaped by nature or nurture — who they are, or what has happened to them? How have these shaped who they’ve become as a person? 18. What kind of person could they become in the future? What are some developmental paths that they could take, (best, worst, most likely?) what would cause them to come to pass, and what consequences might they have? What paths would you especially like to see, and why? CONNECTIONS WITH OTHERS. 19. How do they behave within a group? What role(s) do they take? Does this differ if they know and trust the group, versus finding themselves in a group of strangers? Why? 20. What kind of individual relationships do they have with others, and how do they behave in them? How are they different between intimate relationships like friends, family, and lovers versus more impersonal relationships? 21. What kind of relationships do they tend to intentionally seek out versus actually cultivate? What kind of social contact do they prefer, and why? 22. How do people respond to them, and why might these responses differ? 23. How do they respond to difficult social moments? What makes them consider a social situation difficult? 24. How do they present themselves socially? What distinguishes their “persona” from their “true self”, and what causes that difference? 25. What do they need and want out of relationships, and how do they go about getting it? 26. How do they view and feel about relationships, and how might this manifest in how they handle them, if it does? ACTIVITIES AND PREFERENCES. 27. What do they strongly like and dislike, in any category? Why? 28. What are they likely to do if they have the opportunity, resources, and time to accomplish it? Why? 29. What kind of activities, interests, and hobbies do they have? What significance and impact do these have in their lives, both positive and negative? 30. What is their preferred level of activity and stimulation? How do they cope if they get either too little or too much? 31. Is there anything that counts as a “dealbreaker” for them, positively or negatively? What makes things go smoothly, and what spoils an activity or ruins their day? Why? 32. Do they have any “props” that are a significant part of their life, identity, activities, or self-presentation somehow? What are they, how are they used, and why are they so significant? How would these props’ absence impact them, how would they compensate, and why? THINKING AND LEARNING. 33. How do they learn about the world–what is their preferred learning style? Hands-on learning with trial and error? Research, reading, and note-taking? Observation or rote memorization? Inductive or deductive reasoning? Seeking patterns and organization? Taking things apart and putting them back together? Creative processing via discussing, writing about, or dramatizing things? 34. How do they understand the world–what kind of worldview and thought processes do they have? Why? 35. How and why do they internalize knowledge? What effect has that had on them? 36. How much do they rely on their minds and intellect, versus other approaches like relying on instinct, intuition, faith and spirituality, or emotions? What is their opinion on this? 37. Have they had any special education or training that colors their means of learning about or understanding the world? Conversely, do they lack some kind of education considered essential in their world? What kind of impact has this addition or lack had on them? 38. Is there anything they wish they could change about their worldview or thought processes? What, and why? 39. What sort of questions or thoughts recur in their lives, either specifically or as a theme? Why are these never answered, or answered permanently to their satisfaction? 40. What do they wonder about? What sparks their curiosity and imagination, and why? How is this expressed, if it is? FREE FOR ALL. 41. What associations do they bring to mind? Words or phrases, images, metaphors or motifs? Why? 42. I have a question of my own!

[leanderargyris-blog]

sloth !

SLOTH  –  cessation of motion and an indifference to work.

Leander rested his head in his hand, pressing his forehead against his palm as his elbow propped it up on the table he and Calliope had taken up. A sigh laced with frustration puffed out of him, as he stared down at the potions textbook in front of him.

Calliope turned a page, a maddeningly quiet noise that seemed far too loud for the bad mood Leander was in.

“I’m just gonna not go to this O.W.L. — I’m just… I’m just not going to show up. I hate potions, it doesn’t make any sense to me. I’m not doing this.” Leander glared down at the textbook, the measurements and instructions may as well have been in Greek to him. He ran a hand through his hair.

Slammed the textbook shut.

It made Calliope jump, the other fifteen year old having been far more focused than Leander.

“Fuck this,” Leander said, “I’m going to fail anyway what’s the point.” He glanced up to Calliope. “Let’s get some supper.”

[leanderargyris-blog]

wrath (go ! off !)

WRATH  –  uncontrolled feelings of anger, rage, and even hatred towards oneself or others.

James Potter. Oh, how sometimes you hated him. You were friends like fire and gasoline. You shouldn’t have lasted as long as you did but yet you still persist.

At least for now.

Right now all you are is shaking hands, white knuckles from fists held too tight. You want to be impulsive, want to show him how you’re feeling, emote in the way that you so frequently think you dampen in yourself. None of the other student body can tell who is the fire and who is the gasoline, but you feel the flare — uncontrollable and burning, burning, burning.

Punch him, your thoughts tell you, punch him and end this friendship.

Do it.

        Do it.

                 Do it.

But you don’t.

You want to scream, want to stab words into the softest parts of James, but you can’t. He is your friend and you don’t know when this is going to end but it isn’t going to end now. You’re not going to let it end now.

[sagamemes]

send me a biblical or a historical sin for a drabble or a starter themed around that topic.

LUST  –  intense longing, sexual or otherwise, that subverts propriety.

GLUTTONY  –  the overindulgence and overconsumption of anything to the point of waste.

GREED  –  an artificial, rapacious desire and pursuit of material possessions.

SLOTH  –  cessation of motion and an indifference to work.

WRATH  –  uncontrolled feelings of anger, rage, and even hatred towards oneself or others.

ENVY  –  a sad or resentful covetousness towards the traits or possessions of someone else.

PRIDE  –  putting of one’s own desires, urges, wants, and whims before the welfare of people.

ACEDIA  –  neglect to take care of something that one should do.

VANITY  –  the excessive belief in one’s own abilities or attractiveness to others.

[leanderargyris-blog]

girlishghost:

The hall was flooded with activity – some students leaving for early classes, others sticking around to catch up; Ianthe was a bit of nomad during these times, prone to wandering, floating, her green Slytherin tie forgone in favor of a delicate choker, top buttons exposing her neck, pressed uniform impishly ruffled: impossible to place, all alignments inscrutable. There was an unmistakeable type of anonymity offered by the great mass of students, and she drifted endlessly between tables, before settling neatly into a vacant spot by Leander. He didn’t glance over though, much to her dismay, a small moue of petulance making its way across her face at his inattention.

She took a fork, dipping into his breakfast plate and taking a bite of sausage, sniffing at it delicately before eating it, abandoning the fork once finished, wholly uninterested in food after a single bite. At his question, she pressed closer – unnecessarily so, but familiarly so, at least by their two standards – ducking her way under his arm, so that she was tucked into his side, peering at his timetable.

“We have charms together,” she said, tapping at his schedule. “And some others that I can’t be bothered to list; see for yourself,” she continued, dropping her own schedule unceremoniously in his lap, turning her head minutely away from him to continue expressing her momentary displeasure, though still attuned to his every movement, carefully awaiting his reaction.

Leander breathed out a little laugh at the thief of his food — a well-known thief — that tucked into his side almost immediately after stealing. This ease of friendship was foreign; it scared him, but he wasn’t quite ready to ruin it. Besides, wouldn’t the end of this school year bring a neat finish to it anyway? Maybe Leander wouldn’t have to dirty his hands with choking the friendship until it withered. Or imploding it when he inevitably panicked at any sort of closeness; at any sort of familiarity, or of ease.

But for now, he’d enjoy it.

“Good. I’d like to kick your ass at Charms again this year too.” Leander was joking, and it showed in his tone — easy and punctuated with a smile. He glanced over Ianthe’s schedule, which had so much pink on it he’d know it was Ianthe’s from a metre away. “You really went and made your schedule pink?” He shook his head, but squeezed her shoulders so that she tucked in closer to his side — physical closeness between them was normal and wanted and welcome — as he continued, “You could be bothered enough to make yours all pretty and you didn’t do mine?”

His eyes glanced between the two schedules. “Other than charms, looks like Latin, alchemy, and ancient runes.” Leander forked another piece of food — a piece of sausage this time — and popped it into his mouth. “Wonder what Chie has this year too. Maybe we can bother him in his hole at the library soon.”

[leanderargyris-blog]

selenalarkinrpg:

It wasn’t odd for students of all years to approach Selena throughout her day; after all, she was one of the two current Head Girls at Hogwarts. Boy troubles? Struggles with homework? Feeling left out or unwanted? It was usually Selena they’d hunt down, and dump all of their problems, as if she kept the remedy for heartache in her back pocket, or spare pieces of fifth grade potions work stuffed in her bag. She usually recited the same response, no matter the issue ‘I’m sorry you feel this way muffin, have you spoken to any of the professors? I know Longbottom is really helpful when it comes to things like this.’ Before they could respond she’d perk up and go ‘-Actually, I’ll take you to him right now! He’s just out in Herbology, you can’t miss him.’ 

But it was unusual for a student to start up casual conversation. She glanced upwards, just as he stabbed a piece of his pancake. She was distracted, the way he chewed on the fluffy dessert, it was off putting. “Oh hello,” Selena beamed regardless of her inner judgments, and glanced at her schedule. “Ummm…, charms actually! Yourself?”

“Oh shit,” the words popped out of Leander before he could stop them, though he took the care to swallow the piece of pancake in his mouth before he spoke again — acutely awake he’d spoken with his mouth full, and even more acutely aware of how that would have gone over with his parents. Leander had the easy smile that had been on his face fall into a tense one of the same. Perhaps he should have been more careful.

But the other beamed at him, and glanced at her schedule; humouring him and his questions.

“Hi,” he breathed out before finding his voice again, the tone even and quiet, “I have Charms too.” He felt uncomfortable but that was not Selena’s fault. More it was from his general fear of being judged — from not being able to have control of a situation — and he was suddenly aware of just how rumpled his shirt was; how disheveled his entire uniform must have appeared. Leander never had been one to bother with the hardline presses, or neatly tied ties, but sometimes it bothered him. Like it did in this moment.

He searched for the words to say. He bit the inside of his cheek, thinking about eating another piece of his cold breakfast but deciding against it. “Oh, hey, wait, you’d have a good idea about this I think.” He paused. “D’you know when quidditch practices start up?”

[leanderargyris-blog]

Who; open Where; great hall When; late breakfast time

Leander picked at the remnants of his breakfast — all that was left on the plate was a torn up pancake and a few bites of sausage — pushing them around with his fork as he pored over his class schedule. It was getting a bit late for the meal, as evidenced by the tables not being quite as packed as they had been an hour previous and the mingling of the houses as friends from different houses decided to move and sit together regardless of affiliation.

Charms is first, Leander thought, a smile spreading across his face at seeing that on his schedule. Charms was his favourite subject, and having the NEWT-level class certainly helped with when the Fiddling Flitwicks met up and tinkered with the spells.

“Hey,” Leander said, stabbing a piece of his cold pancakes but not looking up from his schedule, “What do you have first? Anything interesting?” He popped the sweet piece of food into his mouth. “Think we have anything together?”

[leanderargyris-blog]

                     Leander Argyris’ ( proposed ) seventh year timetable

course list:

Charms Fantastical Philosophy Arithmancy Latin Alchemy Study of Ancient Runes History of Magic Astronomy Spare x2

Extracurriculars:

Fiddling Flitwicks Goblin’s Gazette

[charlesecrit]

“Forests have secrets, but rivers make graves… I’d rather secrets.”

                       Leander Argyris ; Achilles Heel

[leanderargyris-blog]

Drabble 001.

“You have no idea what I’d do to have something like this,” the words were quiet, barely heard over the buzzing of the bees in the garden Leander had found himself in — the garden that he’d pulled his summer fling into. “You’re not going to last.” It was an inevitability, nothing lasted, nothing stayed. He wanted so badly to kid himself on that fact, but there was no escaping it. History repeated itself even if you tried to change it.

The boy that Leander had been cavorting around with in the Italian countryside that summer was pretty as a picture — richly pigmented brown hair that curled and cowlicked every which way, and tawny brown eyes that sparkled when he smiled — but, now, he looked as tragic as a baroque painting. Too harsh of shadows spilling on his skin, shadowing those eyes and making the light freckles sprayed across the bridge of his nose seem like dirt. Nothing was beautiful in the knit of his brows, or the confused expression. “Y’know if you stopped writing people off, something might actually stick.”

A hardness came over Leander’s expression. I’ll show you ‘writing off’, the thought crackled through him, and his words were coming out on their own accord. An automatic response to criticism of his behaviour for things of this nature. “You’re nothing to me, just— just absolutely nothing.” A clench of his fists, nails digging into his own palms. “Don’t inflate your own importance.” This isn’t what he wanted to do but he couldn’t imagine the alternative; he couldn’t imagine actually letting someone in. There was no ending to this story where Leander was the one that got the romantic connection, and there was no version of this story where he was happy and content and not left wanting.

But the hurt in the other boy’s face made Leander regret his words. It was like he’d taken a knife and stabbed it into the other’s soft spots — and wasn’t he just good at that?

“Nothing?” The boy’s voice cracked in the next sentence, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed to try and gain some composure, “Everything we did and you’re saying I’m nothing?”

Leander opened his mouth, but no words came out. Eyes darted down to the ground. Stayed there. The last thing he wanted to see was the pain he’d just dealt. This was always the hardest part: dealing with the aftermath. Leander wanted people to simply disappear once he’d renounced them. Once he’d gotten the temporary comfort — temporary distraction from them — he just wanted them to fade out of his life. It was how it always was.

Who stayed?

         Almost no one.

And why would they? All they would get was this hollow, hungry boy. A shitty consolation prize to anything else they could have gotten out of life.