#adolohov

[thelionwolf]

APV in Text Posts: 8/?

[thelionwolf]

Steal Me With A Kiss || Reina & Antonia || AU

December 21st, 1978 Ministry of Magic, Holiday Gala 11:00pm

With the assigned seating and tables now long abandoned, witches and wizards of all kinds mingled around the large event hall, the conversation flowing more naturally with the aid of the liquor that was being readily handed out. To Reina’s surprise, quite a few people had taken to the dance floor as well, the tensions of the heavy security checks and strained pleasantries seemingly forgotten. 

However, Reina was finding it a bit more difficult to relax, even with the champagne. She didn’t know if it was the Ministry building and all of the employees that she knew to be filtered throughout the crowd or the uncomfortable dress that clung to her thin form, but her eyes kept glancing over the heads with more wariness than curiosity. 

Pulling down on the thin fabric of her dress, she cursed Jamie for convincing her that this was a good idea, missing the thick, comfortable layers of her old jumpers and trousers. However, glancing down at her well-worn, flat shoes brought a small smile to her face- she had managed to escape the house with them on before anyone noticed. The half-blood was unused to parties with a dress code that didn’t involve some absurd Halloween costume, and felt very out of place with the entire concept despite the Ministry’s desperate attempt at bringing together the entirety of the Wizarding community.

Speaking of Jamie, she lifted her head, glancing across the room for a familiar face and wondering where her friends had run off to. She had seen Sirius just a few minutes ago and promised to get them both another drink, but they had quickly been pulled away by their be-speckled friend, much to Reina’s dislike. Certainly the two of them wouldn’t try anything ridiculous here at the Ministry, of all places. No, she shook her head, remembering the strict bag checks beforehand. They couldn’t have gotten anything in. Right?

Fingers tugging down on her dress again, she bit her lip before making her way to the bar nearby. At the very least, she could drink and enjoy the music. Standing on her toes in an attempt to get the attention of the bartender, a few wizards passed in front of the quiet witch before she was finally able to ask for two drinks, falling back on her heels as she leaned against the counter, her fingers absentmindedly tapping against the polished wood as she waited.

[thelionwolf]

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ｂａｓｉｃｓ:

WHO OF US IS:

Older? yours/mineTaller? yours/mineRicher? yours/mineNeater? yours/mine (antonin makes remus look like a ragamuffin)Nicer? yours/mineSmarter? yours/mine (debatable bc book smarts vs. world smarts?)Funnier? yours/mine (although remus would argue against this)

ａｄｖａｎｃｅｄ:

Who is a better friend? yours/mineWho lies the most? yours/mineWho swears the most? yours/mineWho reads more? yours/mineWho is more creative? yours/mine (to remus' misfortunate)Who is more troubled? yours/mineWho has better morals? yours/mine

[thelionwolf]

Animal Instinct || Remus & Antonin || March 15th

For one sweet moment, all that Remus knew was darkness. Beneath closed eyelids, he was back in Hogwarts, lying on a four poster bed with nothing but the soft, familiar sounds of sleep drifting out from the three other boys beside him. It was almost tempting to remain in this fictional place and to keep his eyelids shut another minute longer. However, as appealing as that fantasy was, he knew that it couldn’t be.

A soft creak of footsteps moving away from him stirred the young werewolf awake as his eyes began to flutter, painfully opening to an unfamiliar scene around him. Struggling to adjust to the clear lighting for a brief moment, Remus was acutely aware of the tight ropes at his wrists, cutting into the raw flesh numbly and binding his arms to the back of a rigid chair. No- he was far from the simple comforts of a four-poster bed at Hogwarts.

Harsh, crimson memories of the days leading up to this moment flashed violently before Remus’ eyes suddenly as he struggled against his restraints, the recollections and details hazy but the pain as clear as glass, dried blood tugging against his skin uncomfortably as evidence.

The low, barely audible paddings of footsteps against polished wood alerted Remus to the presence of someone else in the room, and for the first time since he had woken up, the werewolf glanced around to take in his surroundings. At first glimpse, he would have assumed that he was in a sitting room of sorts, the room unfamiliar but not unexpected. The past few days had been a blur of consciousness and blissful darkness, and each time he woken he found himself somewhere else. 

If it wasn’t for the sharp, nauseating pain in the back of his head from the memory spells and the combination of curses, he would have applauded his captor for the thoughtfulness in this plan. While it did nothing to help him, it was undeniably clever, giving nothing for the Gryffindor to cling to in these sparse moments of consciousness aside from the clasps at his wrists and the rigid wood of the chair at his back.

However, at this moment, that was all that he needed. Blissfully thankful for the spells that kept him from fully reliving the past few days fully, he scanned the walls of the sitting room and towards a door in the distance with a careful, quick motion not unlike that of a trapped animal. And, really, wasn’t he exactly that? However, caged and bruised and without his wand, his hands felt surprisingly steady for the first time in days as he drew in a shaky breath, shifting his legs and ignoring the way that they screamed in protest at the movement.

He could cope with pain. In an odd, twisted way, he relished in the familiar sensation, as it grounded him in a way like no other. Pain reminded him that he was still living. It signaled breath in his lungs and power in his fists. It also reminded him of where he needed to go, fueling him with motive to fight back when others would have given up long ago. Over the years, the werewolf had built up a tolerance for physical pain like this, knowing when to succumb to it’s claws and when to press on and persevere.

Today, with the foreboding steps in the distance sparking a fearless, determined spirit in the wolf, Remus shut his eyes as bruised, broken lips parted to whisper the familiar notes to a wordless spell lingering at the tip of his tongue. It was optimistic, truly, and took a few minutes to execute, but with the rough, fibrous rope slick against his raw skin as motive, the hemp material finally singed in a quick burst of red-hot fire, licking up against his pale skin before falling down to the glossy floor with a gentle thud. 

Remus didn’t hesitate a moment longer. Jumping up on aching legs, his eyes darted behind him, searching for the shelf where he had last seen his wand, perched high above him in another broken, chaotic memory. Spinning around in a motion that made his stomach turn and his head whirl, his instrument was nowhere in sight, and time was running out for the boy as the seconds flew by, violently drumming away in the back of his mind.

He needed to run.

Ignoring the fear that flashed through his mind at the thought of what he was about to do, the werewolf darted forwards, making his way towards an unprotected door and ignoring the groaning creak of wood behind him, footsteps no longer moving away from the sitting room but towards it. 

He needed to escape.

[raiserofwolves]

I'm willing to gamble.

4th person gets: A french kiss from my character.

The boy was covered in blood, which covered the stink of those revolting potions nicely. Could be worse. He grinned, stalking over to him, and in a second, had him pinned against the wall. Anton struggled, but Fenrir pressed a finger to his lips. 

"Hush." And then his lips replaced his finger, a growl low in his chest, and he reached down to grope his crotch, nipping at his lower lip, until the younger man parted his, and his tongue moved to flick over his teeth, exploring.

He came up for air, and licked his cheek, savouring the taste of sweat, arousal, and blood. "Tasty, kid." He chuckled, and then released him, turning back to the chaos. Let him make of that what he will.