MERCILESS.

niko nenad. 28. half-blood. professional beater.

[nikonenad]

🌟 hello!! 25+ mun looking for someone to create & run a modern era harry potter group server with. together we can discuss the plot ( or lack thereof ), rules, era ( leaning toward marauder, open to golden trio ), aesthetics, a potential mun cap and other details! i would like this group to be small, casual & inclusive. please be willing to bounce ideas off me & split responsibilities. message this blog or like this post for me to reach out to you if you are interested (: please be 21+. thank you xxx

[nikonenad]

miragoshawk​:

    Mira had noted far too often lately that she’d developed a habit of looking over her shoulder. It wasn’t her fault, she’d had visits from aurors, after all, and she was beginning to anticipate visits from other powerful individuals as well. It didn’t help that she was currently traversing through Knockturn Alley. She’d tried to avoid the area as of late, not wishing to give anyone any reason to be suspicious of her. It was exhausting to second guess her every move, but it was the reality she currently occupied. All she needed was a few pesticides, flesh-eating slug repellent for one. People too often forgot that she loved herbology almost as much as she loved charms. Lately she couldn’t seem to bring herself to write much in focus of the latter, but the former? Perhaps she could focus on that and her quill would cooperate. 

      She knew all too well that it was wishful thinking, but she was going stir crazy from the lack of writing. She hadn’t had such a drought since she was fourteen. She needed to write for her own sake. She kept her head down, navigating the narrow alley as innocently as she could manage. Her irritation grew as she kept walking, the voice in the back of her mind chastising her for giving in to rumor and whisper. She knew where she stood, what did it matter what others thought? But she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her, and not with passing interest either. 

      The witch frowned, glancing once more over her shoulder. People milled about, some speaking to each other over sales in hushed voices, but there was nothing awry, nothing to give credence to the gooseflesh on her arms. She watched a moment longer before starting forward again, nearing her destination. She felt it again, and stopped, whirring around faster this time, her wand drawn. “What do you want?” She snapped, certain there was someone following her now, even if they’d yet to make themselves known. Merlin help her, people were going to think she’d truly lost it. 

nikonenad:

The last thing Niko liked to be thought of was predictable, but Knockturn Alley was so incredibly charming to him, and that was exactly why he got a flat in one of the few residential buildings. Hogsmeade had that small village charm to it that made him nauseated with nostalgia, because it wasn’t the warm version of the feeling. It was the eerie, stomach churning sort that made his fight or flight senses heighten. Diagon Alley was too picturesque and commercial for his liking. This neighborhood was unkempt. There were odors lofting about the air that he couldn’t quite place - a mixture of whatever black-market dealings were going on in the shadows, soot, smoke, and agony. He could understand why other people would have their fight or flight senses invoked by the environment, however. Not many were bold enough to casually stroll along the road without their hand hovering over their wand. Since he was on suspension from Quidditch, Niko had a lot of free time on his hands, and he could only spend so much of it smoking one cigarette after another inside his bedroom. He could at the very least enjoy that activity outdoors, so he sat on the stoop of his building and did just that. The first thing he noticed about Mira as she walked by on the other side of the road was the way she carried herself. The display of self-preservation was endearing. It took him a few moments of staring for him to realize who he was looking at. His expression softened as he was nauseated with nostalgia in his own territory, only this was in fact the warm version of the feeling. Mira had taught him a lot. He was careful not to show off what he learned from her in public, but he absolutely retained a lot of that knowledge ... just in case. Unfortunately for Mira, that was where Niko’s compassion and mercy ended. Not only was he bored, but as he moved to begin to follow her, he could practically taste her nerves. When she finally broke down and turned to face him - yelling all the while - he doubled over laughing. “What do I want?! I live here! What the fuck do you want?” He broke his laughter to feign being scandalized. Like his sense of security was breeched. He eyed her wand. “If you do hex me, make sure it’s something I’ve never seen before, yeah Mir? I know someone who’ll fix me up, you can do your worst.”

[nikonenad]

isamacmillan​:

    Quidditch was thrilling, and yes, it had risks, but Isa knew as well as anyone that though the league denied Niko’s wrongdoing, injuries followed him and his opponents all too often. She’d been busy when the incident happened, but she could tell by the frantic wave of hands from the chief medical officer that Nenad had gotten carried away again. She didn’t need him to tell her who she was being asked to see. She didn’t understand why, but she was almost always the one assigned to Niko. Perhaps it was her bedside manner? Niko had never hurt her, even though she knew he was capable of it. She’d known him since school, so maybe that had something to do with it? Regardless, she stood, smoothing her hand over her skirt as she hurried to the Montrose medical tent. 

    “I never said there was.” She reassured as she ducked into the space. It was a little cold, admittedly, making a note to set the fire going if this took too long. She had her wind resistant jacket on, the Montrose one from Snow, but it didn’t fully keep the chill away. Her eyes swept over her patient for a moment, searching for new injuries, new marks, or anything that would set her urgency into higher gear. Some people found it difficult to treat people like Niko, so scarred and marred from life’s hand that you could hardly tell what needed tending, but Isa didn’t agree. Niko deserved the same care as anyone else, and she’d taken the time to know him well, and his injuries. She didn’t see anything immediately alarming, which made her wonder if he’d been sent to the medical tent not for injuries of his own, but for his actions. 

     She pulled her wand free, flicking it toward the tent to seal the flaps and give them more privacy. A quick silencing charm ensured nobody would overhear their talk. She valued his privacy, genuinely. “They sedated you?” She questioned as she came over to the cot he was laying on. Her fingers were gentle as she took his wrist, thumb pressing over the vein to feel for his pulse. She noted his eyes, his posture. She had little doubt that they had, but why they had was another question as of yet unanswered. After a moment, she let his wrist go, and reached up to brush back his hair, leaning over him to check his eyes. She lifted her wand over him, murmuring a spell as the tip of her wand lit up just a bit. She checked his pupils, frowning a little as she did. “How’s your head?” She added, not feeling the need to push him into explaining what happened right away. She didn’t want to set him off, and it was important to her that he have time to calm. He was the type of person her mother had challenged her to love, after all. Was it loving to grant him patience so often withheld? 

nikonenad:

The drawn curtains were appreciated, but that silencing charm was such a beautiful gesture ; Niko didn’t mind the chaos he had just escaped. If he was adverse to being surrounded by a stadium of screaming Quidditch fanatics on a routine basis he had chosen the wrong profession. That sort of hostile, loud environment was where he liked to believe he thrived. But there was always something about Isa that he felt was best appreciated in the quiet. He wondered what her colleagues thought of her to be willing to let her close them off from the rest of the staff since he knew what their opinions were of him very clearly. They must assume her to be in a vulnerable situation. If they were setting her up to fail, he decided, it had to be because they were threatened by her skills. Even if he didn’t already have a higher-than-average opinion of her, he wouldn’t give those fuckers the satisfaction of causing her any pain.

Niko didn’t fuss as she inspected him for injuries. Contrary, he actually leaned into her touch. She showed him her cards with the silencing charm - that was trust. He would do the same and return that trust as best he knew how. Vulnerability in the form of dropping his guard was a skill he was still working on. Nothing hurt, so her examination barely caused him to flinch. It wasn’t insolence, but his pride kept him from verbally answering her first question about being sedated. She was observant enough to know the answer and he understood that. To her next inquiry, he had to scoff. Not at her, but at the situation. “Heads the same it’s always been,” he replied. “So,” his words were coated with laughter, “probably a bit damaged. But nothing new, yeah Issie?” He smirked. The sluggish young man shifted a bit to sit up more upright. Everything felt like it was moving so slowly. “I’m only in here ... y’know ... to protect the Magpie brand. I rather this than a holding cell.” His eyes took her in, looking her over up and down. “So why are you here? When the fuck are you going to get promoted?”

[nikonenad]

gparkingson-esq​:

“Open and shut if you want to plead guilty.” Niko managed to keep her in good clothes, that was for sure. Like a few people their age, she became the go to for any legal matters. It was rather fun, really. Knowing everyone’s information was very Slytherin of her. Though she did take her client’s privilege seriously. She would only use it against them if she really had to. She knew who Niko was in school. More than once she had flirted with him with the hopes of it getting back to her father. It did and well…she didn’t have to worry about him anymore. It wasn’t until after school they actually started becoming friends. And well…like most of her friends she flirted with him. She was human, really. It was the only reason she wasn’t pushing and hexing him into next week for resting on her head and messing with her hair. 

“You did hurt him. That’s why this is bad. You and I both know you need to be careful. You’ve got a target on your back.” She started looking over the witness statements, taking her quill and noting a few lines. “What might be a good hit for someone will not be for you.” That gave her an idea. “Who was the team that their beater knocked a guy off their broom a few weeks ago? Do you know if he had a fine? Because if he didn’t, I can at least get you out of that much.” She grabbed another piece of paper and wrote a note down. “We can probably settle civilly. You’ll have to apologize and say you’re seeing a mind healer or something. And before you start, yes you have to do it. No, you don’t have to mean it. I’ll write it for you.” It was only then she pushed his arms up, turning around to look at him. “And you cannot do this again.” 

nikonenad:

She really knew how to kick him when he was down - no one liked to be confronted with facts and logic, especially not from their legal representation. He wanted to be angry with her for being right, but he knew it was misguided. He didn’t need to go off and self-reflect to understand he was mad at himself ... though to be fair, that referee should have stayed the fuck out of player’s business and let the game unfold the way it should have. “Of course he didn’t get a fine! He was just doing his job! Georgie, we’re called beaters for a bloody fuckin’ reason -- I’ll own up to the fact that I shouldn’t have tried to choke that referee pig bastard out in broad daylight, but he needs to own up to the fact that he only went to haul me off the pitch because of the target on my back. That’s discrimination, innit? I’m not Mulciber.”  He realized he was ranting a bit too loud too close to her ears and lifted his head up to spare her, though he kept his arms in place. He tried to focus on listening to her solutions, but he was worked up and agitated - the only reason he was even remotely grounded was because he literally had her to lean on. When she turned to face him, he let everything sink in and took the opportunity to reach into his pocket for his packet of cigarettes. “Apology?! Mind healer?!” He shrieked with laughter, shaking his head as he lit up a cigarette and took a drag. He was still chuckling as he exhaled - away from her face - and it dawned on him that she was being serious. She did say she would write a script for him after all. “Fine. I’ll read it.” That was all he could agree to. “If you buy me a drink.”

[nikonenad]

Georgie probably wasn’t pleased with him being in her office yet again. She had enough on her plate, so the fact that she had to clean up yet another one of his messes was probably not the most ideal situation for either of them to be in. He liked to think maybe, just maybe, he was appreciated for being less of a life-or-death sentencing sort of client. Something a little more high-publicity in a fun and innocent sort of way for the drama-fiend public to get their fix. She’d be given publicity. Attention. Notoriety. After all, all he did was try to strangle a referee - those power-tripping wannabes were always overstepping their authority. Yes, the Wasps’ seeker was knocked unconscious. And yes, he was the reason for that ... but to be fair, wasn’t that the point of Quidditch? Even eleven-year-olds in Hogwarts understood the dangers of the sport. “He’s fine anyway. Dunno why everyone is wound up about it,” he said as he stood behind her, his long arms folded in a way that made it comfortable to rest them against the top of her head. These were absolutely not the boundaries that should be set with your lawyer while you were trying to defend the fate of your livelihood, but he was too comfortable for his own good. “If I really wanted to hurt him, I would have. That fascistic fucker got the warning he deserved, yeah? It was a bad call.” He closed his eyes. Why was this so comfortable? And how long would she let him indulge until she shoved him off? “Open and shut case, innit?” He exhaled. His fingers twitched and curled in her hair a bit.

@gparkingson-esq​

[nikonenad]

There was an incident during the Magpies' latest match against the Wasps. It was covered heavily in the Daily Prophet - not only in the Sports section, but in opinion pieces as well. Niko heard commentators discuss it over the radio. He knew he couldn’t escape listening to people talk about it in the pub, either, because the pub was the best place to have heated conversations about Quidditch. He understood why they were fixating on drama within sports - reality and current events were too much to handle and distractions were important. He was just caught in the middle of everything and selfishly wished there was a place for him to go for his own escapism. Niko was in the middle of serving a team suspension sentence and was advised not to reach out to his teammates until he was allowed back onto the pitch for training in a month. Isolation weighed heavily on him. There were few moments of peace he could recall throughout his life that he could slip into as he chain-smoked and stared at the walls of his flat, and learning to ride horses with Walburga Black happened to be the daydreams that were currently dominating his mind. He wondered if she had heard about the scene he caused - the chances that she was out of the loop were slim to none. But pretending there was a chance she hadn’t heard that he knocked a rival player out cold then tried to strangle the referee that came to penalize him was the only way he could find the courage to write to her.

Burgie: I know things are different now so feel free to disregard. You’re not obligated to help me anymore.

I was wondering if you had time for another riding lesson. I need to learn how to trust again. I never knew such a connection was possible until I saw you with your horses. Regardless. I hope you and they are all doing well. Maybe we can meet for a drink and catch up. - Niko

Why was writing owls so obscenely difficult? He sounded so stiff and formal in ink - it only vaguely sounded like his own voice when he read the words back to himself - but he wanted to at least attempt to sound formal. His accent and diction were certainly lost on paper. He wanted to come off as charming, but that was probably lost as well. Regardless. He went to the nearest owl post to send the message out to Walburga Black, and he returned back to hot boxing his flat.

@blackestwalburga​

[nikonenad]

"Oi! Nenad! You fuckin’ cocksucker -- thought you said you was going to bash that Puddlefuck seeker over the head last match, knock the c*nt out for the win -- I bet my week’s pay on you you lying bastard! You didn’t even show up!” The words were slurred into his ear at a less than comfortable volume, each syllable hot and moist. Niko didn’t flinch at the attempt to be put in his place by this man - it wasn’t as though he thought himself superior, but anyone foolish enough to bet their salary on him wasn’t worth reacting immediately over. “League has me on probation,” was his calm response. There was no apology attending his explanation ; he simply took a sip from his own pint and attempted to inch away. The stench of the man’s breath was not going unnoticed.  “Probation?! Tell that shit to my wife tonight when I have to go home to her with no fuckin’ gold you cocky fuck!” He was yelling now, slamming his fists on the bar like a child. This caused Niko to straighten his posture and actually acknowledge him with eye contact for the first time. “If you’re asking me to take care of your wife,” he began with a smirk as he looked the other over, “I won’t let either of you down. Bet on that.”  And that was when the wand was drawn.  The fight that ensued was sloppy. A battle between a man who was too drunk to stand up straight and one who relied on his emotions to guide him through spellwork was not the most elegant thing to watch, and fortunately it was broken up before the pub wound up burned down completely. Apparently his opponent was not at the point of pure desperation because he held back where Niko fought without remorse. He was carried out of the facility by a few other patrons, bruised and bloodied but not permanently scarred, while Niko plopped back on the bar stool he’d been sitting at to keep nursing his beer. He was fine. “You know,” the Beater mused. “This happens at least once a fucking week, yeah Abe? You really need to stop attracting such an aggressive crowd. Someone might get hurt.” He grinned, then finished drinking and gestured that he wanted another. 

@abcrfcrth​

[nikonenad]

Niko was a blunt man - he said what he wanted to say, and he wore his emotions on his sleeve. His body was covered in marks that showed just how open and honest he was with his emotions and he was proud of that. Maybe that’s why Isa kept giving him her time - he knew as a Mediwizard, it was her job to tend to him but he could tell the difference between someone who wanted to treat him and someone who only did so because it was their job. His position on his team was controversial, especially among the medical community since they all understood and voiced the concerns of him intentionally hurting other players. The league denies this. His lawyer denies this. He has only ever denied it in court and to the press.   Montrose was in a match against Wimbourne and one of his opponents wound up unconscious. When a referee flew up to Niko and made an attempt to remove him off the pitch, he dropped his bat and lunged toward him to wrap his hands around his neck, balancing on his broom as he put him into a chokehold as he exclaimed he did nothing wrong. He could feel his body heat up with anger. “Am I the only one who knows how to play this bloody game?! Not even the ref can do his fucking job! Since when has Quidditch not been a blood sport??!! Hypocrites! The crowd wants entertainment! They love it!” The young man howled and writhed as he was hauled down to the ground by several mediwizards and his disgraced coach, and contrary to his statements, the crowd was a very split mix of boos and cheers. His selective hearing zeroed in on the cheers. They brought him to a tent for observation. It took a sedation spell to get him off his broom without anyone else getting hurt ; he was still under its influence as he sat up on the cot they had him sit on. Isa was assigned to him. If she wasn’t, he probably would not be as comfortable with the arrangement. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just trying to do my job,” he groaned. He didn’t like being punished, but truthfully, he was happy to see her. Is this what it took to be in her company? @isamacmillan​