surviving in all the wrong ways

Twenty-One Ministry Official Deatheater there are no happy endings because nothing ends

[rablxstrange-blog]

GIDEON

He should have kept walking. The voice of reason that yapped in his ear and eerily resembled Molly told him to breeze past the man. To not invite potential havoc into his life. But, Gideon rarely traveled the reasonable path. And honestly? It pissed him off that Rabastan sounded so cheery. That and the damn suit. “Just swell, Lestrange, and yourself?”

Rabastan was either still intoxicated from the evening previous, or simply drunk on confidence [ and her ], or else he would have entirely skipped past even the base pleasantries expected of mutual acquaintances. But Gideon wasn’t just a former schoolmate. He was something else entirely, and for Rabastan, encountering him on that day in particular was the universe’s way of reminding him that everything was perhaps going to work out in his favour. “Oh, I’m having a spectacular day.” The words roll off his tongue, with a smile to wrap them up in. “”Can’t complain when you only make it in for lunch.” A laugh follows. “You know how it is, mate?” They had never been mates. Not even remotely.

[ferrisbueller]

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GIDEON

The door to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office closed behind him. Still chuckling from his talk with Arthur, and his brother-in-law’s latest obsession with muggle cars, he narrowly dodged a flying note. And locked eyes with Rabastan Lestrange in the process. “Of all the fucking people,” he muttered. Gideon had always found Marlene’s old friend to be an amoral ass that encouraged her worst traits- and was not naive enough to think the man felt any more warmly towards him. With his blow up with Marlene fresh and his surety about to who she would have turned…Too stubborn to turn back, he marched forward, hoping the other man would keep with tradition and ignore him.

@rablxstrange

Rabastan hadn’t seen the proper side of a good night’s sleep, but for as much as his late evening may have affected his alertness at work, it had done nothing to damper his mood [or his impeccable dress]. In fact, the man hadn’t been in such high spirits in ages, it seemed. He wondered if she would be waiting for him after work. Mid-afternoon had rolled around and he had decided it would be good for appearances to actually attempt a productive task, given he’d strolled into the office just a little before noon. Apparently there was a particularly important department meeting he needed to prepare for-- had anyone even told him about it earlier? Likely. Didn’t matter-- there was a few trusted secretaries throughout the Ministry that were always quite helpful in scrambling for him when the need would arise. Strolling confidently towards the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office he eyes met a familiar face-- ah, Gideon. “And how are we doing today, Prewett?”

[alixcs-deactivated20200502]

SWEET ESCAPE ♧ Marlene & Rabastan → August 1977

[rablxstrange-blog]

MARLENE

               rabastan lestrange & marlene mckinnon, their names had travelled the halls of hogwarts in whispers. their latest exploits known to the masses due to cheer curiosity and the devastation they left on the world. eyes always only for each other when they collided, and she couldn’t control it. their chemistry had always been inevitable, ever since they were younger and their lips had collided for the first time. was it that he was a safety in the world crumbling around her? partly, but what was most enticing was the way he would follow her down the spiral and hold her through it. how they would rip each other apart piece by piece but still come out whole, and sometimes marlene wondered what would happen if they had decided to truly let the world melt away, to be his. but such thoughts had never been fully entertained even if she often balanced on the edge of it. with him, the brunette felt immortal and when his hands gently touch her she feels a shiver go down her spine. fires started every where his fingers touched her. like they always did.

“ to portugal? ” she assumes the suggestion comes from his wish for an escape. a new reality where he doesn’t need to follow the whims of others and have his life dictated. she knew far too well what the end of august would mean for him, a sealed fate. “ did the champagne make you mad, rabastan? ” soft giggle passing her lips as she bends down to kiss his neck. laughing away his request as if he wasn’t serious, as if there wasn’t a desperate need to RUN AWAY from what the future currently held for him.

He allowed himself to sink into the fantasy [ this would be something later on that he would never gift himself with, because the pain of resurfacing would never be worth the initial indulgence ]. The two of them on a beach, sun-kissed and dazed from the heat mixed with alcohol. Summer nights falling in and out of bars, colliding on dance floors, stumbling into a bed, onto a floor, into a tub. He wanted to lose himself in her. It would be so easy if they were away. There would be choices, their fates back in their own hands, instead of at the mercy of the world they were wrought into. 

With a sudden sense of urgency he pushes himself up, and twists their bodies, so that he’s hovering just over top of her, his hand running up her thigh, meeting fabric. His gaze smolders back at her. “Can’t blame the champagne for that, love. You could blame yourself though.” All smiles, he catches her lips with his own, deepening the kiss at the feel of her. “I’m serious-- lets go.” It’s a whisper, resolute and longing in the same turn. “Just imagine it for a moment. The two of us. You’d love it to so much you’d never want to come back. You know that.”

[alixcs-deactivated20200502]

HABITS ♧ Marlene & Rabastan

[rablxstrange-blog]

MARLENE

@rablxstrange·

8 o’clock, our usual place.

the owl had been sent on a whim but with an underlying need for something different than the suffocating walls of her home. it reminded her of a graveyard, the home that she had loved until now. the memories of a fight, of words cutting through fragile heart, and never ending tears causing the raven haired belle to flee into former bad habits and successful escapes. the breakdown that dorcas had been the only witness to a secret buried in marlene’s heart and now, it was as if nothing had ever happened, as if her heart had not been ripped from her chest and beaten. instead, she ascended the stairs to the bar with confidence & the ancient grace the mckinnon’s were known for. in this moment, marlene looked like a queen and with a smirk on her lips she slid into the booth where he was sitting. left leg elegantly moved to cross over her right, exposing her thigh from the slit in her black satin dress. “ hello handsome, ” a kiss to his cheek. “ i’m glad you could come. our conversation got so nastily interrupted the other night. ” hand motioning to the approaching server, he knew their order and no words needed to be uttered. “ you look dashing by the way. ”

There had been, he would tell himself, a strong moment of resilience where he had decided that he would not heed her invitation. He could say no, send an owl back, just as swiftly as hers arrived. Worse yet, he could allow her to think he was coming, and simply elude the evening entirely. For once, he could do the right thing. But he wasn’t right, and he wasn’t good, and no matter how much he had ever tried to be, this was the story he was forced to repeat. It was why he had cancelled on dinner entirely with Anastasia-- made up a poor excuse-- dawned one of his many crisp dress shirts, and had a starting drink before arriving at their destination. As the familiarity of the scene sunk in, so did the idea that he would have always ended up here that evening. He couldn’t escape her, just as much as he couldn’t escape with her-- at least not permanently. As she made her appearance, his eyes grazed over the entirety of her form, lingering as he always did, on his favourite features. His hand pressed to her as she leaned in. He didn’t want to think about the other evening-- about his annoyance at her departure, at the conversation he had to have with his wife about his lengthy absence from the party, about the thought that had crossed his mind-- what if she never came back to him? The owl, the destination, the outfit. She was back. He knew it. He could feel it in the air, buzzing between them. “I would compliment your dress, but we both know I’ve always preferred the way your clothes look scattered on the ground.” He leans back against the booth, eyes shining at her. “Which reminds me, you haven’t had that little tattoo removed in the interim, by any chance?”

[rablxstrange-blog]

► dinner liaisons

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MARLENE

       his arm snakes around her waist and her senses become alert. eager to follow his next move. thus, when he pulls her into the study ( that they had visited many times before ) and pushes her against the door she cannot help but let a small laugh fall from her lips. “ so this is what you invited me for? ” her body responding as if spellbound, arms reaching up to rest around his neck she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, even if her tone is teasing ( amused ). doe eyes glittering of amusement, and something resembling want. marlene had always been enticed by rabastan, had often disappeared into his whims and wishes all the whilst she swore she had the same effect on him. how else would they now find themselves here? but with doe eyes connected with his and lips close to his, she doesn’t let them collide. even if she plays with the thought there is loyalty of the heart that keeps her from it. a name entering her veins with every beat of her heart that keeps her from doing anything further. a year ago marlene would have cursed at the notion, but now she lets it decide of her next action.  “ shame on me, here i thought you valued me as a friend more than as an escape. ”

Salazar-- he wanted her. He wanted to stop his mind from going through every thought that plagued him, day in and day out. He wanted to be someone else, if only for a few choice moments. He wanted to be the man that he was with her-- the one who was always on the edge of a good time, no cares in the world, an infinite amount of unknowns waiting just for him to grasp and bring to fruition. There had been times, and he would never admit that it was any of the substances, that he really thought that alongside her he could rule the world. Where was that man now? Where was that girl? 

He was almost confused by her comment, thrown off momentarily. Of course she was his escape. Wasn’t he hers? Why did that taint things? Features furrowed, he places one hand against the door, his grip on her loosening with the other. “You were my best friend--” The comment catches in his throat, and he forces himself to saturate the next setence in his trivial charm “-- you were my best many things.” A forced smirk follows. “I thought when you accepted my invitation you thought the same.” 

[newromnantics-blog]

Well, maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much. (x)

[untamed-force]

[checked]

Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?

Charles Bukowski (via checked)

[rablxstrange-blog]

ofalvces:

“you’re right, i nearly forgot about that. there are far worse places to be stuck, that’s for sure.” although alice knew some part of her would feel guilty for burning so many books, if it actually came to that. she doubted it would, but then again, she was overly OPTIMISTIC in nearly every situation she found herself in. “hopefully, it won’t get to that point. i mean, they’ve got to figure this out sooner rather than later.” her eyes shone with hope as her gaze met his, running her hand along the bookshelf absentmindedly. 

“Granted-- far better places as well; a restaurant, a pub, even a sweets shops would be preferable, but we should take what we can.” He flips absentmindedly through the book in his hands once more, momentarily distracted again, before her comment leaves him barely keeping in a laugh. “If working in the Ministry has taught me anything, it’s that problems don’t get solved. They get-- prioritized away.” His eyes flick back up to meet hers. “At this rate, we’ll be lucky to get out of here by spring.” 

[rablxstrange-blog]

AMELIA

Amelia could use a drink herself at this point, too. While Flourish and Blotts wasn’t the worst place to be stuck in – there were plenty books to read, after all – she would rather get on with her day and get all her errands done before evening rolled around. In stead, she was stuck in a bookstore, growing more agitated with every second. Something to take the edge off was definitely welcome by now.

“I have some water with me, if you want to try that. Might be a bit easier than paper,” she said, fishing a water bottle from her bag. “But that does mean we have to share.”

“Water into wine? I may be good, but miraculous may be a stretch.” He smirks, eyes meeting hers. Taking a step forward, and removing himself from the safety of his perch at the Herbology & Other Plant Matters part of the bookstore. “Besides, logic would hold we should probably ration the water for as long as possible.” His tone was light, teasing even, but there was a genuine part of him that wouldn’t have been surprised if the situation turned into a full-blown disaster at the rate everything was going downhill. 

“What else do you have in there?” He makes to eye her bag, brows quirking up in curiosity.

[rablxstrange-blog]

annabelleroux:

“Ferment paper?” Annie repeated, making sure she had heard him correctly. She paused for a few moments, attempting to think if she had ever head of one. Tentatively, she replied, “No… I don’t think there is a charm for that. Muggles ferment things, don’t they? Perhaps we could look and see if they have any books on it.” 

“I’m sure they do-- and terribly at that.” The comment tastes odd on his lips, but he lets it plague the air around him. This was the man who practically lived on the creations of muggle vineyards across Europe. It was these particularities, when he thought of how the circumstances he found himself in were so asynchronous to his life, that bothered him perhaps more than anything else that he had been forced to do. “Serves me right for not keeping a bottle on me at all times.” 

[heavenhillgirl]

[untamedunwanted]

The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.

Tiny Stories  (via 5000letters)

[rablxstrange-blog]

ALICE

“can’t say i do.” the woman admitted, frowning slightly at the thought of not being able to help out. she hated being trapped in one spot with no promise of escape anytime soon. it made her feel helpless and that, to alice, was one of the worst feelings in the world. “there’s probably instructions in one of the books here, though. i’d say you probably have ENOUGH time to go through them all.” she sighed at the thought, obviously dissatisfied  as ever with their current predicament. 

There was an almost awkward pause between her genuine sentiment, and Rabastan’s forced laugh. “Right, point taken.” He would have have been more satisfied with being told it was an impossible feat, however, given the close quarters, he thought better to apply some semblance of polite charm. “We should count ourselves lucky really-- we have a heat source to keep us going for quite some time if it comes to that.” He waves the book in his hand as an example. 

[rablxstrange-blog]

The pages flipped of their own accord, as Rabastan mindlessly scanned the letters without making sense of a single line of text in the large hardcover splayed open in his hands.  He glances up from the pages, eyes trailing over the milling group of unfortunate individuals holed up alongside him. Cursing himself for not adding carrying a flask to his debaucherous ways, he stifles a groan. 

“Any of you know how to ferment paper, by any chance? In preferably the next few minutes. There’s gotta be a charm for that,right?” 

[rablxstrange-blog]

RONAN

he recognized that voice – hadn’t heard it in a L O N G time. 

he should have known, he’d been having more and more of these encounters, recently, people from his past showing up for a tattoo, for a conversation, for something more than he could give. he wasn’t ronan avery, anymore, he was just RONAN, now, no longer a member of pureblood society but instead a menace to it, dark mark hidden under darker ink, silver nose ring shining in the fluorescent lights of the shop.

“ lestrange. ” he looked up from behind the counter, meeting the other man’s eyes. he looked different, looked good, part of him wanted to ask but he knew it wasn’t his place, not anymore. they didn’t get to know the intimate parts of each other anymore, instead they danced awkwardly around each other, unsure of what to say, how to act.

“ good to see ya’. you here for a tattoo ? ”

He had thought it would be difficult to see him, that was a given. But Rabastan had not been prepared for the contradictory emotions within him to rile up so magnificently in the other man’s presence. There was anger, perhaps there would always be some anger-- confusion, that was easiest to hold within himself-- a bitter sadness, the type that closes in on one’s throat, and doesn’t quite let go of its grasp until its had its way with you-- and then the most difficult emotion of all to process; his happiness at being in his presence again. 

A hand goes to the back of his neck, his eyes scouring the floor for unremarkable things to note, an awkwardness settling itself above all other feeling. “Uh-- tattoo, yes I did have that in mind.” Did he? He wasn’t sure anymore. “And I’ve heard.... there might be more, as well.” He forces himself to look up, meeting Ronan’s eyes. “Some other products I can take off your hands.”