local squibs do no good

Delilah Akinlove & Axel Sidewinder | Sandstone Street 297 

[squib-city]

What do you think your life would have looked like, had you both gone to Hogwarts?

"I can't imagine that my Mother would have sent me to Hogwarts, she would have preferred to have me schooled with tutors or to attend a school like Beauxbatons. But had she sent me off to Hogwarts then I would have been sorted into Slytherin, then I would have aimed for a more political life than I lead right now. Politics is where the real power lies, and I would be writing laws right now if I wasn't a squib."

"Aurors - I'd be an Auror Captain, probably Roland's partner. We would live together and I'd be really close with my parents. I would rock any Auror potluck or holiday meal! But I would have gone to like Hufflepuff, Delilah would still be my best friend, and I would be a proper working Sidewinder instead of this... useless thing."

[squib-city]

If you could change anything about your past, would you and what would it be?

"Nothing, I've done everything in my life perfectly. I have no regrets, I've done everything on purpose. I wouldn't change literally anything, I've only made excellent choices, and frankly, I'm better than most of you."

"I would have tried harder to show my parents that I'm worthy of being their son and kept in touch with Roland. I'm a bad son; it's not really my fault, but it's still true."

"Axel shut the fuck up - your parents suck, and Roland is an ass, you're great don't make me smack you. You're my best friend stop being so shitty to yourself by the fucking LORD."

"You're right - I'm sick as fuck. Fuck my family."

[meow-morales]

[ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― from Delilah ❤️

[ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― Delilah asks Val for a dance upon hearing a song

(Inspired greatly by In the Heights here and here)

@squib-city

Blackouts were not uncommon in the Den of Magic.

Their civilization was situated underground, for one thing; magic was finicky, and magic-powered electricity even more so. The citizens of the Den had a power grid that was supposed to be maintained by the local administrative branches—but the Den of Magic residents and those who tried to govern them rarely saw eye-to-eye, and so the latter would regularly shut off said power grid when they wanted to make a statement. Assholes.

But the Den of Magic was bursting with artists and bohemian spirits, who weren’t likely to be silenced by a little bit of darkness, now and then. 

In fact, when the blackouts hit, they reveled. 

It was an unspoken sort of calling throughout the Den; when your power went out, you made your way out into the cavernous tunnels that housed their city streets, to drink and dance and be merry in spite of their would-be oppressors. Taverns and pubs set up makeshift bars outside and cooked skewered meats and vegetables on charcoal grills that filled the tunnels with fragrant, mouthwatering smoke. Those who could do magic levitated colorful lights and lanterns, while those who couldn’t set out candles and tea lights in glass jars, whose glow flickered along the saturated cavern walls, casting shadows that ebbed and bobbed. Musicians would bring out their acoustic instruments—guitars and fiddles, hand drums and flutes and standing bass and tambourines, and play folks songs and dirges and jigs in impromptu clusters.

And most of all, people would dance.

It was on one such night that Val found themself drinking ale at a small table with some of their neighbors—Axel, Delilah, and half-fae Dani. The dancing was in full swing all around them, and Delilah—who was known for twirling about the dance floor in a short skirt and kitten heels until dawn, on blackout nights—had already refused several offers from potential dance partners. 

“I swear to god, if one more cojudo with a hard-on interrupts this story…” Val complained, rolling their eyes and swigging their beer.

Delilah tossed her hair, sweat glistening on her skin from the humid tunnel chamber’s lack of ventilation. “As if anyone is even listening to your god-awful story, Morales. It’s so fucking dull it’s putting us all to sleep…” Axel and Dani, knowing well better than to get in the middle of one of Delilah and Val’s frequent verbal spars, sipped their drinks and strategically kept their mouths shut. Delilah gave a taunting grin, her teeth wet and white as she added, “…maybe some dancing is just what we need to wake up?”

Val gave the girl a withering glare. “So are you asking me to dance, Duchess?”

Delilah made an affronted face, and opened her mouth to protest before reconsidering, for some reason. She took a dainty sip of her own drink and then asked, in a haughty tone that was edged with something else, something tentative and questioning, “…do you even dance?”

Val leaned back in their chair, the feline lines of their body stretching beneath their skin. Dismissively, they drawled, “I doubt you’d be interested in the sort of dancing I do. If you could even keep up.”

Delilah’s eyes flashed indignantly. Seething, she chugged the rest of her beer and slammed the empty mug on the table, just as another would-be suitor—one of the Hawkins werewolves, Val recognized—approached and began to ask her to dance. 

Delilah didn’t even wait for him to finish; she stared right at Val as she said to the werewolf behind her back, “Yeah, let’s dance,” and she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him onto the teeming dance floor.

Val watched with displeasure as the girl preened and pranced to an upbeat salsa-style jam, spinning and dipping between the waiting arms of not just the Hawkins werewolf, but several dancers, never once leaving Val’s line of sight. The boxer could feel Axel staring at Val, debating whether or not to say the words that were on his tongue, and Val flickered dark eyes his way; even in human form, Val’s eyes seemed to give off a feral, nocturnal glow. It was enough to make Axel shrink back in his seat and keep his fucking opinions to himself.

Danika, however, brushed some wisps of hair from her pixie-like face and said casually, “It is kind of a good beat, mate…” Val raised a brow at her and she shrugged, before hopping up and disappearing into the dancing mob. 

It was just then that Val spotted one of the dancers from Slick Wands, the adult entertainment club where Val worked as a bouncer. They spotted Val and gave them a friendly wave. Fine, what the hell.

It didn’t take much convincing; it seemed everyone was in the mood to move their feet and their bodies to the sultry tune, and in no time Val and Raquel were spinning into the throng, swaying together with no space in between them. Raquel hooked a leg around Val’s calf, arching her back as Val dipped her low enough that her long braid of thick, dark hair nearly brushed the wet stone floor.

Delilah glared at the sight of them, and retaliated by twirling into the center of a circle of about five dancing men, who propped her up on their shoulders in a flashy, spinning trick. 

But Val was dancing with someone who spun around a pole every night for a living, and they easily lifted and spun Raquel into a complicated, around-the-back trick before landing her stylishly back on her feet.

A crowd had gathered to watch and cheer around the warring dancers now, and they threw tricks back and forth so readily that by the time the song was finished, it was anyone’s guess who the victor might be.

Val and Delilah glowered at each other in the center of it all, chests heaving, bodies glistening with sweat.

And it was Delilah who finally sniffed tempestuously, turned on her heel and stormed off. 

The victory felt good…for a couple of seconds. And then, for some idiotic reason, Val took off after the girl. 

They grabbed her arm just as she was rounding a corner, and they found themselves in a dingy crevice in a corner of the cave. Delilah yanked her arm furiously from Val’s grip and spat, “Fuck you, Morales! Why’d you have to go and show me up like that, huh? I’m just out here trying to have a good night and you have to ruin it, like you ruin everything. If you hate the things I like so much then why’d you even come out tonight—”

Val bristled with rage, barely managing not to snarl. “—oh spare me the victim act, Duchess—you’re the one who started this, you’re the one who’s out there every blackout with a dozen men, shaking your ass for like, half of the Den—”

“And for fuck’s sake, why do you think that is?”

The tight space they’d chosen to argue in made every word seem more charged, more intense. Val took one step closer to Delilah and when the girl retreated back a step, too, her back hit a wall. 

But Val loomed closer still. “If I didn’t know better, little bird, I’d say you were trying to make me jealous,” they growled, low and predatory. 

Delilah looked up at them, defiant. Each angry breath she panted made their chests nearly touch. “And what if I am?”

Something warm and unfamiliar blossomed within Val’s belly; not like the fire of rage that burned and scorched, but something sticky that dripped along the insides of Val’s ribcage like sun-warmed nectar. 

Hands that were rough and calloused from fighting braced craggled wall on either side of Delilah’s head as Val dipped their head toward Delilah. She didn't flinch. Into her ear, the jaguar purred, “Well then I’d say you didn’t need to try so hard.”

Delilah grinned wide enough to show her canines, and it was her turn to look like a predator as she baited, “Prove it.”

And that was a challenge Val had much less issue with rising to than dancing. 

They snaked an arm around Delilah’s back and hoisted her up against the dank wall, ruining the girl’s fine tailored clothes and holding her in place with Val’s own body.

And when their mouths met it was with hunger and animosity—tongues and teeth and swallowed-up sounds, a tussle for dominance just as it had been on the dance floor. 

And once again, it was anyone’s guess who would win.

[squib-city]

“Do not be followed by its commonplace appearance. Like so many things, it is not what is outside, but what is inside that counts.”— Merchant (Aladdin)

may 5 2020 - axel's birthday

"Remind me again why you are making me go home?" Axel tugged on his necktie but the French silk slipped through his fingers only serving to tighten the noose even worse than before. He sputtered a bit, cheeks and nose turning red as the yellow fabric cut into his windpipe. He reached over to slap Delilah, and instead tugged on her hair.

"No! Don't touch!" Delilah smacked him back, the edges of her nails tapping his cheek.

"It's too tight--"

"Men are such babies, I'm in six inches stilettos and you are undone by a bit of silk?" Delilah put down her lipstick, only the top half of her lip done, and reached out to fix it back up. "Stop complaining anyway, I thought you said you wanted to go back home and see your Father."

"Yeah, Father but not Mum!" Axel smoothed down the edges of his cuffs, the little cufflinks were silver-plated loaves of bread, a gag gift from Delilah on his fifteenth birthday but nonetheless well-loved and cared for. "Mum hasn't spoken to me since we graduated, then we get some letter to attend a luncheon at the Manor?"

Delilah hummed as she turned back to applying her lipstick, touching up her eyes, and picking out jewelry, "Maybe they want to make amends?"

"Sidewinder's don't make amends we ignore things to the point of invisibility or kill it!"

Delilah sighed as she put on her moss opals, running her fingers through her dark curls and pulling the hair away from the nape of her neck. "Do me up?" The laces were already tugged snug against her soft frame, but Axel reached over to straighten and tighten the bastardized corset properly. His fingers worked even as his mouth continued a mile a minute.

"I mean honestly what are they playing at - a birthday luncheon! They haven't seen me in three years, no notes or even a Christmas card. At most Roland sees me and that's just cause he's a weird stalker who wants to put me in Azkaban--"

"Roland isn't going to put you in Azkaban," Delilah tugged at the corset's boning.

"-- and then there are the cousins, who are the worst! I ran into Sabrina the other day and she nearly clocked me for helping her out of the muck she fell into!"

"Do you think silver really goes with this dress?" Delilah rolled her shoulders back a bit and tugged on her necklace, squinting a bit.

"To top it all off it was Warren who wrote it out! I can tell it was him, we both do that weird thing with our L's that no one else does. I blame him for the teachers at St. George's rapping my knuckles when I turned in handwritten essays--"

"Axel!"

The corset was far too tight, cinching Delilah's waist as a terrible shade of red blocked up her neck and cheeks. Axel pulled on the strings again, letting the fabric sit snug against her bodyline instead of asphyxiating.

"Sorry sorry I'm just--"

"Nervous," Delilah turned tugging on the low neckline to wrap her arms around his shoulders, tucking her nose into the dip in his chest between his pectoral muscles, her fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulder blades. Axel soothed his hands down Delilah's arms and back. "Listen, it's just a luncheon, if anything goes wrong I'll tie them up with my words and we can come back home. I can go bully Val while you whine about being neighborly then we can get rip roarin' drunk and throw water balloons at Roland while he patrols."

"That does sound good..."

Delilah leaned up to kiss the bridge of his nose, leaving a smear of lipstick in her wake. Axel rubbed at it, the waxy red covering his palm. "You're the best son they could have asked for, just cause they're blind and stupid doesn't mean they can make you feel blind and stupid."

"They aren't stupid."

"Yes, they are if they can't see the wonderful, loyal, and loving son they have in front of them. If you had magic you'd be right there with Roland, in Auror Blacks. And even though you don't have their kinda magic you tried so hard ..." Delilah bit her lip. "You're more than enough Axel, they just act like they can't see it cause it hurts their ridiculous pride." Axel flushed again, tugging on his tie.

"Stop that, we're gonna be late," she fixed his tie again, rubbing off her lipstick and straightening his hair. "Let's go, the quicker we get there quicker we can leave."

Delilah tugged his hand again, smiling, cheeks blocking up her eyes and a bit of lipstick on her teeth. The bubble of air in Axel's chest popped when he looked down at his best friend, and let out a small happy sigh, letting the terribleawfulfeeling go away.

"Yeah, Father hates people being late." Axel walked out of the apartment, watching as Delilah sprayed on her perfume, finished up her hair, and smiled prettily into the mirror.

He held his arm out when she exited, waved to Val who was walking up the street, and clicked his heels together, once, twice, then three times. A loud bang echoed around them as they did a bastardized teleportation to Ipswich, both hoping for a better outcome than what they got. But at least, Axel thought, they had each other.

[squib-city]

meow-morales​:

Val didn’t slow their pace when they heard the sound of impractical shoes scraping pavement behind them—Delilah attempting to keep up. In fact, Val didn’t react outwardly at all to the loud-mouthed little bird following behind them—except for an unannounced, satisfied smile that unwound itself across Val’s face like an anaconda stretching along the branch of a tree. Val shook their head, annoyed that they couldn’t seem to shake the feeling; stop that, don’t be ridiculous. At least Delilah couldn’t see them smiling.

But Val did see the picture that Delilah painted with words inside their mind; Roland Sidewinder’s stupid punchable face and unnaturally coiffed hair, covered in literal jungle shit. Of course, Delilah’s version hadn’t taken place in the jungle, but that’s where Val’s thoughts always drifted on their own. “That I would have paid good money to see…” they said with wry amusement, before Delilah was once again sent plummeting off-keel by gravity and idiocy. Val rolled their eyes and reached out to steady the girl, pitying humans and their cumbersome lack of balance. “…and maybe we first just try mastering standing on our own two feet?”

It was mainly regulars who showed up at Brick Break during daylight hours to train before the weekly evening matches, and Val spotted a few familiar faces right away; Glaucus Hawkins was shirtless, sweaty and toweling off, and as he eyed Val and their guest he whistled loudly and yelled, “Who’s the fangirl, Morales?” To which Val offered no reply except to hold up their middle finger in his direction.

Then there was Derek—a dense but harmless meathead who showed up often to watch music and boxing matches, but was rarely himself in the ring. He was leaning against a wall full of weights sipping a protein shake, and Val was surprised to see that visible beneath and around his go-to tank top and too-short athletic shorts, Derek was covered in small cuts and bruises. Yet he seemed in as impeccable spirits as ever as he waved genially at Val and Delilah.

Val nodded back and said, “Lemme guess—I should see the other dude?” 

Derek’s perfectly-crafted face—which was already predisposed to looking stupid—contorted with confusion, not getting what Val was implying for at least thirty seconds before finally the (very dull) lightbulb went off somewhere within that thick skull, and he said, “Oh, L-O-L! Nah, I’ve just been hangin’ out with a new friend is all. He’s a musician! And a vampire.”

Instinctually, Val felt a snarl bristle in the back of their throat. “A vampire did that to you?”

Derek grinned, oblivious. “Yeah! Cool, huh? He doesn’t got fangs or nothin’ so he’s a little un…un-orca….un-orthodontics—“

“—unorthodox,” Val corrected flatly.

“Yeah—that, exactly! Anyway, hey, you need a spotter?” Val side-eyed Delilah at their side, considering it. Then they shrugged and pulled some tape from the box to start wrapping their hands, just as Derek smiled brightly at Delilah and held up his own hand for a high-five. “Hey there, I’m Derek! You must be a friend of Val’s?”

.

Delilah’s pace was quick, her feet tapping on the ground and she was very happy for the kitten heels she wore today instead of the usually 3-5 inchers she wore around the Den. The whole place seemed have a constant sheen of water on the ground, and the deeper you went the higher the waterline got. Axel almost exculsivly wore boots now, and Delilah who’d always worn heels got taller ones and platforms. Most other spelled their clothes to repel water but they lacked that particular ability. 

“Put me and Roland in one of your boxing rings,” Delilah chirped as they turned down another corner, further into the Den and closer to her job. “I’m sure given a bit of coaching I could knock him out, really give him a reason to pout.” Plus then maybe he’d stop hitting on her? She intensely disliked Roland for treating Axel badly but worse he kept looking down her shirts! “Fuck you, can you walk in stilettos on cobblestone that is constantly slick! I don’t think so,” Delilah turned her nose up marching along towards the gym. “Just teach me to not break my hand yeah?”

The gym smelled how it always did - bleach, blood, beer and sweat. It was so masculine in energy it almost sent Delilah running off in the other direction. Most everyone in the room Delilah had chided at one point or another, her fingers pressing into their chests for getting their shit rocked or rocking their opponent so hard Delilah had to Charm them into staying still to fix them up. Most were looking her up and down, staring at the shortness of her skirt and exposed ankles. At the clinic she wore leggings and tights, as sheer as they were, and didn’t expose this much skin. Most nodded at her, but their eyes still roamed, appreciatively and with some layer of attraction. 

That was new and different.

Unconsciously Delilah stepped a half foot closer to Val, arms tightening around her stomach, fingers sneezing her own love handles and switched to the safest defense mode possible. Snarky but sweet.

“Who’re ya calling a fangirl?” Delilah glared, her tone bristling, she recognized him, a werewolf or something from a family that had no idea condoms or anti-pregnany charms existed. Delilah felt like she met a new Hawkins kid everyday of the week. The guy, Caucus or something, winked at her causing a flush to spread along the back of her neck and down her spine. 

The guy in front of them seemed to have the intelligence of a wet towel, which probably met Val got along with them. Birds of a feather and all. She tilted up on her shoes and wrinkled her nose. “D’you want some like anti biotics, does lotion even work on Vampire marks?” She really should have paid more attention in biology. “Also shouldn’t you also be a vampire, isn’t that how it works or something?” She looked up at Val with a questioning brow and then back at Derek’s hand.

She pulled a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and swiped at his obviously sweaty hand before slapping it with her own. “Charmed, I’m Delilah, it’s nice to meet you. But I wouldn’t say me and Val are friends, more like tolerant mortal enemies who have dinner when my best friend forces us to, and who is gonna teach me to punch someone’s lights on.” Delilah smiled.

[squib-city]

nola-lee​:

Lee didn’t come here to be distracted by all the strange produce—honest. In fact, if mambo found out he’d strayed from his task—which happened to be keeping an eye on Joujou, who had gotten a bit too much attention recently from some nosy local law enforcement—he’d be in for it. But Lee wasn’t too worried about that; Jou was too clever for her own good, and Lee was certain she could look after herself. Besides, they had a sort of mutual understanding where if Lee let her be, she wouldn’t rat him out. 

Dona had told Lee about magical neighborhoods like this one. She’d described them in colorful detail, in that cute way she got when she could see a place in her mind and her eyes went kind of starry, and she gestured grandly with her hands, and she’d have to push her glasses back up the arch of her nose several times when they slid down without her noticing. 

And Lee loved hearing Dona’s stories about her magical world. But actually seeing it with his own eyes, breathing it in as it hung so heavily in the air that you could nearly taste it on your tongue, like the charged static humidity before a hurricane…that was something else. 

It felt dangerous, forbidden. But that was a tempting sort of fruit.

In fact, it was fruit that drew Lee’s attention off course, and he couldn’t help but to wander over to stalls laden with rows and bins and hanging vines of the most peculiar fruits he’d ever seen.

Lee reached out to pick up one that was round and oozing a thick burgundy juice when his hand brushed with a wizard’s. Lee drew his arm back and ducked his head. “Ah, no—beggin’ your pardon, I was just lookin’, ya see…these have gotta be some a the strangest fruits I ever seen…” 

Lee cocked his head in confusion, not sure if it was the man’s accent or the word he wasn’t understanding. “…sorry, did ya say there are…horrors wanderin’ round?”

Axel leaned up to pluck some of the more plain Gaping Grapefruits, Delilah loved them, he made a mean compote from the flesh and the juice was good for cleaning surprisingly. The produce man seemed happy there were more than zero people in front of his stand, people normally avoided it as the fruits were just a little too varied to be legal. Perhaps a secret greenhouse? Though, as he watched another Auror traipse into the crowd (not even bothering to hide her Lichtenburg scarring mauling thin sinewy biceps), they likely had bigger things to fry than some illegal importing of food. 

Axel cocked his head to the side, “Your accent... what is that? Surely not French. I know French,” he had some cousins in France he thinks, third or fourth.

“Yeah a bit odd, magical fruits they are. Exotic, mostly from South America and Asia, I always track what days he comes,” Axel turned to flip a sickle to the gentleman behind the counter who flashed a gold coated tooth and made the sickle disappear without so much as a flash of his hands. ‘Fancy’, Axel thought. “No, no, not hor-ror, AUR-or. They’re magical law enforcement...” perhaps a muggleborn, or a hedge? was his accent that bad on foreigner’s ears? “but they can be a horror at times, believe you me.” 

[squib-city]

What’s your favorite dessert?

I have to admit a really good cheesecake is one of my favorites. What about you Lila?

I've always been partial to a dark chocolate ganache tart, but I suppose if I have to settle for something more easily found I'd be fine with a vanilla-lavender creme brule or something along those lines.

[squib-city]

The Akinlove’s

In contrast to Axel’s complicated family relationship Delilah’s relationship with her Mother has always been strong. They were the pair, the duo, and Delilah clung to her mother’s skirt from birth and learned at her heel. In many ways Axel and Delilah were born with expectation, but where Axel was unable to produce Delilah produced a little too much.

Elowyn Akinlove gave birth to her daughter and immediately circled her entire life around her. Giving her only the finest education, the finest clothes, the finest foods and the finest friends -- all at the low low cost of a few rumors. Elowyn knew that every time she gave into a demand, sold her voice off in pieces, that it was for good reason. Delilah was never going to be abandoned by her, left to squander and rely on anyone else. Elowyn was seven when she built her life from the ground up and moved from the small Scottish village she’d been dumped in and into the galas and manors of the rich and famous. But even Elowyn’s ability to turn a head with a whisper didn’t match how Delilah could snap someone’s neck with a single word. 

Delilah went everywhere with Elowyn and with a carefully placed word no-one batted an eye at the girl privy to the private information of the monarchy, the Fortune 500 CEOs, the rockstars, the richer than God. When Delilah was sent to St. George’s it was only because Elowyn was determined Delilah be given on the finest education among her peers. Upon graduation Delilah told her Mom about Axel, about magic, about Veelas. Elowyn was stumped, she’d raised Delilah to walk her own path, to move forward with caution and always to take care of herself first. She let Delilah go, with promises of calls home and Delilah is true to form. She calls Elowyn every Sunday afternoon around tea-time, sometimes she even visits if Axel can apparate her over.

Elowyn is happy that Delilah is forging her own path, even if she is scraping the bottom of the barrel. But her daughter is strong and there is a place for her beside Elowyn when Delilah gets bored. She sends money along, she welcomes Axel with open arms and welcomes his treats. Elowyn is a supportive Mum, jet setting but always making sure that Delilah is never sent to voicemail. 

[squib-city]

Axel & The Sidewinders

The Sidewinders have multiple children. The sky is blue, grass is green, and the Sidewinders never have anything less than three children. The profession of the Aurors required lives as well as bodies, and the Sidewinders had been offering their own since it’s inception. Their family line was one gilded in gold and bloodied deaths, both from the far too old and very young in the field. Living to an old age was a rarity, a show of strength and skill for anyone who made it to retirement, more often children buried parents before they reached double digits, and parents buried children. 

Axel was a child born after years of trying, the Healers simply threw their hands up at his parents every month they came in begging for concoction. Miscarriage after miscarriage, potion after potion, therapy session after therapy session - until finally Axel was born one May morning. He was the center of his little family, the apple of his parents eyes, a robust joyful boy who loved getting into trouble, scraping his knees and playing with his cousins. Warren and Holly whispered about how they’d make sure he was strong, if only because they couldn’t have more children, they couldn’t afford to lose their only son. But as time went it became apparent that Axel wasn’t the son they wanted. The son they needed. This wasn’t the wand and shield, this was a stain, a squib. 

For the Sidewinders there was nothing worse than one of their own unable to produce magic. As far as anyone knew Axel was the first squib that the Sidewinder’s had produced in the last 500 or so years, and the weight landed heavy around his neck. He watched as his cousins were sent to Hogwarts, his family sent to the field and never to return, yet Axel sat in the safety of the Ipswich Manor. He would pack lunches and help with dinner, he’d practice meager charms with the House Elves and potions in the kitchen. His family tried every specialist, every tutor, tried every Academy of Magic. Anywhere to accept their son, anywhere they could find a cure for being magicless. Roland tried in the beginning, sent him back notes from First Year classes - Charms, Potions, Transfiguration - when he came home from Hogwarts they practiced dueling stances and learned Latin in the shade of oak trees. But as the years wore on everyone knew Axel was never going to produce, and he was left alone, in the manor to his own devices and meager magic.

St. George’s waited for him, a muggle academy, and Axel was sent off one cold November morning without so much as a kiss goodbye.

Now Axel has a strained relationship with most of his family, he attends the funerals with letters that always find him - cousins Sabrina (2000-2019), Willow (1995-2017), Valerie (2000-2019) - and sees Roland in passing though his brother/cousin is always chasing him down enacting petty violence as if they were children in the garden again. He see’s his insane Aunt Lilac at St. Mungos. He exchanges letters with Marcy and Felix still living in America, still escaping the fate of a Sidewinder Auror. His father has refused to see him since he graduated from St. George’s and his mother only sends him birthday cards the inside scrubbed of messages until it only had sloppy well wishes and a galleon tucked inside.

Yet Axel looks at his family and wishes that he could fall on that same sword, or at least be given the option to, he resents that they found him so useless that they sent him away. Resents how when they cross his path that they can only see what he isn’t - a wizard, an auror, a Sidewinder - and wishes he could make them listen to him. Listen to his words on the never ending cycle of violence and loss, but they grow dry in his throat, because the only thing Sidewinder’s understand is death, violence and devotion to a metal badge that will bury the last of them one day. Axel just hopes he isn’t the last one attending a funeral.

[ledger-heath]

[squib-city]

jeremy-lockhart​:

“Oop sorry.” Jeremy said at the same time when their hands touched. “Ah thanks.” Jeremy grabbed 3 but then grabbed one more. He was a bit over encumbered since he thought he wasn’t going to get much but he was wrong. He just got so excited at all the possibilities once he was at the market. “Oh are there? I hadn’t noticed. Which ones are the aurors?” Jeremy got distracted by some hand crafted chocolate and reached to grab for some but ended up spilling the rest of his items. “Damn. Well good thing I wasn’t grabbing eggs today,” he joked as he started to pick things back up. “I wasn’t planning on getting so many things but those oranges were just calling my name. They look and smell so amazing I just know they’re going to make for great jam turnovers. Oh I’m Jeremy by the way,” he said with a big smile.

.

Axel studied the dimpled skin of the bloodied oranges and set aside two into his bag embroidered with messy axes and stitches. “Don’t worry about it, bound to happen when there is such good produce to be had,” the young man turned to the screaming limes next, running a finger over the bright green skin envisioning the tacos he could make for the next Friday meal. 

“There is one there,” he pointed to a tall black man, hair cropped short and curling glaring over the crowd, “pretty sure that’s Ryland actually... and over there one of the Bones kids is acting as if they don’t have two left feet,” Bones were usless for spycraft everyone knew that, too earnest. “There all milling about, but I think it’s good you aren’t noticing them, probably the point,” even if they were total shit at it. 

“Oh here,” Axel snapped his fingers, a rush of sharp magic rolling through from his chest and down his fingers, eyebrows knitting together as the last of the items hovered sloppily into Jeremy’s bag, “I’m Axel - Axel Sidewinder and I was thinking more of a bloodied orange and vanilla creme brule myself but your plan sounds excellent.”

[squib-city]

Diagon Alley was far too bright for Axel’s eyes, he’d popped into existence somewhere behind Ollivanders Wand Shoppe and spent nearly five minutes blinking away sunspots from his eyes. The Den was never this bright, unless it was the flashing neon's of the various clubs at all times of the day and night. Axel was used to his internal clock going wonky, he’d actually set an alarm so he could come to the Diagon Alley Farmer’s Market on time and not show up at midnight like before.

So he strode into the crowd, chin high and marching for the various booths that boasted jellied electric eels and fresh hippocampus milk, items that he couldn’t get from the grocer in the Den. Axel could see Aurors posted around, wandering around in plainclothes and scoffed. His Father would have never let him set his shoulders like that, or stamp his boots in that manner, they couldn’t have been from the I&I Division or Aunt Zyair would have their heads for fun. It was amateur hour in Diagon Alley, god their Captain must suck.

So lost in thought he didn’t realize someone else was reaching the Bloodied oranges until they hands brushed. “Oh sorry there, here go ahead and grab what you want,” Axel grinned and raised his hands back, “bit lost in thoughts ‘n’ all, not used to see this many Aurors wandering around Diagon Alley.”

[squib-city]

meow-morales​:

Val rolled their eyes, leaning their weight into one jutted-out hip with their arms crossed over their chest, the lines of their arm muscles on display. And Val wasn’t like—flexing, per se. But, they weren’t not, either…

So…maybe Val was showing off just a little. But only because this chirpy little parakeet needed to be swatted down a few pegs, once in a while! No other reason (right?).

They flashed Delilah the whites of their teeth threateningly. “It’s simple biology, babe—ask one of your doctor friends about it, I’m sure they’d bring you up to speed…” Hostia puta, does this chick ever stop talking? Val gave a dismissive snort and said, “Please, the cops around here don’t know shit about shit—and taking orders from Axel’s idiot cousin, who can blame them? But if you want to actually be useful, for once, then shut up and come with me…” 

And then Val started walking without waiting to see whether Delilah would actually follow. If she did? Well, maybe Val would regret it. Scratch that—Val would definitely regret it, having to put up with the girl for any length of time was a chore. But there were always some folks around Brick Break in need of a bit of First Aid, so maybe having someone from Walks of Life wouldn’t be a total waste.

.

A bead of sweat fell down from Delilah’s temple, a high flustered flush growing in her cheek while her chest swelled up - no, fuck no. Val was hot from a general understanding of attraction, Delilah wasn’t fucking blind, but she sure as shit wasn’t going to allow her body to act on it even unconsciously. No.

Stupid ass were-creature, cut like a fucking diamond who can lift her. Who was Delilah to deny that Val was impeccably created? Dragging her eyes away from those ridiculous arms the Scotswoman made a scoffing noise in the back of her throat. 

“ I know biology! I took the class,” well she took the tests and Charmed her teacher for the grade but who needed to know that? Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell blah blah blah- “Fuck Roland,” Delilah had been warned not to Charm him but one of these days... “You shoulda seen him two days back though, slid in some muck, fell right on his ass. Mud in his goofy hair looking like some monster from the deep. Tried saying I pushed him but I was standing a half hundred meters getting groceries.” Which she’d bought too much of, and Axel asked her to ask Val if they wanted any. 

The prospect was enticing... “Can you teach me to punch Axel’s cousin?” Delilah jogged a little to keep up with Val, giggling madly at the idea of landing a hit on Axel’s shitty cousin. “C’mon V show me how to give someone the good one-two KO.” Miming punching the air Delilah tripped over her heels with a laugh and knocked into Val’s shoulder - “My bad, sorry.”

[squib-city]

meow-morales​:

Val snorted derisively. Sparkly diamonds; how fucking fitting. 

A catlike smile spread across their face and they leaned down to say at Delilah’s level, “The funny thing about manners is that you’ve gotta be bred with them—and I wasn’t. In the jungle, we have a more hands-on approach to settling problems…” Then, to stop their neighbor’s insufferable badgering (and just to be shitty), Val reached out and firmly grasped Delilah by both arms and physically lifted her before moving her off to one side, out of Val’s path.

Val hopped over the mud puddle that had so offended their neighbor and then turned to look at Delilah over their shoulder, cropped black hair swinging around their cheeks. “…And I’d hold that sharp-edged tongue about me ‘losing fights,’ if I were you. If you’re looking to lose some bets then I can save you the trouble and take your money upfront.”

.

Delilah was stunned when Val lifted her like a spitting cat and deposited her to the side. Like what the - “Fuck you Morales. Who the fuck do you think you are? How the fuck-- this isn’t the jungle! Hands-on approach my ass you’re just showing off!” If Delilah wasn’t sure she’d break her hand on Val’s stupid ass sharp cheekbones she’d smack them so hard. Smoothing out the rumples where Val’s hand had touched her, rubbing at where their fingers dug into Delilah’s skin. “Who the fuck let you get that strong? What the fuck do you bench press?” Do wizards have gyms like that? She’d never seen Axel or anyone else joining a 24 Hour Fitness...

Delilah scoffed, “Hold my tongue? In what universe am I going to be doing that? That’s my whole personality. Ya know, you ought quit fighting and become a comedian, you’ll make a killing.” That was the dumbest idea that Val had ever spouted from their shit-spewing maw. “Besides, I refuse to let myself be on the books when the cops eventually bust you idiots.” Delilah huffed, swinging their own dark hair around, mimicking the stupid swooshing Val did. “Then I’ll bail you out of jail and bring you some plasters just to prove what an excellent neighbor I am.” 

[squib-city]

meow-morales​:

Val glowered down at their neighbor, running her damn mouth off as-per-frickin’-usual. Prayers to Santa Rosa de Lima that the world not run out of Oxygen just because Miss Delilah Akinlove spent it all on her incessant whining.

“Well Duchess, I’m sure the streets were paved with solid gold wherever you came from…” Val growled, pinching the bridge of their nose in annoyance; they’d worked another all-nighter at Slick Wands and they desperately needed to punch something. “…but unless you want me to use your pretty mug as a literal doormat—which, trust me, I am more than happy to do—then you can help me by moving out of my way.”

.

“They were actually made of fuckin’ diamonds, all sparkly and shit. Not that we’d ever see a sparkle down in this cave,” the fact she loved it when unsaid. Delilah poked at the rip in her skirt, another mending project for her garbage sewing skills. The muggle sneered, ‘pretty mug’ god that was low, not that she needed the reminder of what real Veelans looked like. Motherfucking Val Morales couldn’t go a day without stressing her in some way shape or goddamn form. 

“This ‘pretty mug’ isn’t moving anywhere, especially since you left your manners in the muck I just fell into.” Reaching into her pocket she pulled out wet wipes and began to get to work on her hands, she can’t have a ripped skirt and hands smelling like shit. “Besides it’s my god given right to bother you, its written in some coda somewhere ‘Delilah gets to bother the shit outta Val to feel better’. Oh look, its working.” Delilah handed a mocking little smile at them before making a shooing motion. “Why don’t you run along and lose a fight then hmm, I’ll be sure to pencil a Healing session in for you ahead of time.”

[wixcollective]

Name:  Axel Sidewinder (21) Birthday: May 4th, 1999 Birthplace: Ipswich, England  Gender: Male  Pronouns: He/him  Sexuality: Bisexual Nationality: British  Faceclaim: Joe Kerry

Magic

Bloodstatus: Pureblood (Squib) Boggart: A silver trophy Education: Homeschooled & Muggle Boarding School Safehouse Allegiance: None Discipline: House Elf Charmwork

Currently

Location: Liverpool, England  Residence: Den of Magic, Liverpool Occupation: Foodstand owner Association: Sidewinder Family

Connections

Roland Sidewinder (cousin)

Delilah Akinlove (close friend; flatmate)

Val Morales (neighbor)

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[wixcollective]

Name: Delilah Akinlove (20)  Birthday: October 9th, 1999  Birthplace: Aberdeen, Scotland Gender: Female  Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Queer Nationality: Scottish Faceclaim: Beanie Feldstein

Magic

Bloodstatus: Muggle (Veelan Descent)  Boggart: Being unable to speak, totally silent, and everyone ignoring her existence Education: Muggle Boarding School Discipline: Charmspeaking Veelan Brood: Unknown

Currently

Location: Liverpool, England  Residence: Den of Magic, Sandstone Street Occupation: Receptionist at Walks of Life Clinic Association: Sidewinder Family

Connections

Axel Sidewinder (close friend; flatmate)

Val Morales (neighbor; nemesis)

Keep reading