Keni
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Xuebing Du
Peter Solarz
Love Begins
One Nice Bug Per Day
izzy's playlists!
dirt enthusiast
tannertan36
Three Goblin Art
$LAYYYTER
noise dept.
Sade Olutola
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Cosimo Galluzzi
Show & Tell
KIROKAZE
macklin celebrini has autism
cherry valley forever
seen from Thailand
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Iraq
seen from Kenya
seen from Belarus
seen from United States
seen from Belgium
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from Portugal
seen from Brazil
seen from Ukraine
seen from Spain
@twistedxreality
15. Do you like someone?
“What is this, first year? I fancy someone, they know it. I ask ‘em out. Though, guess things are a bit more complicated lately.”
“Greta’s got a nice arse and a striking personality, doesn’ she?”
@margaretacatchlove
23, 29, 46
23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?
“My memories, probably. Not afraid of much, me. Though Sybill has a mean punch, I’d imagine. Wouldn’ want to piss off that lassie.”
29. What is your favorite expletive?
“Fuck. But only because a certain woman I see all the time says it every other word she bloody speaks.”
46. Are you reliable?
“Who the fuck knows anymore? ’Course. I try to be.”
@simplysybill @margaretacatchlove
What is the one thing in his life that if it had/hadn't happened to him he would have turned out completely different?
“Wearin’ that damn dress to that party. Merlin, I looked like a bloody fool havin’ the same outfit as Ms. Burke. Never again.”
“Donno. Reckon my whole bloody childhood.”
@cassandraburke
antonin & lily ✘ blackouts
wallflower-lils.
Her chest felt like it was being ripped in two. A curse taken directly to her chest had sent her flying back, a large tree eventually stopping her body. She could feel the hair plastered to her forehead, dirt covered her entire body. James had gotten her away from the brunt of the fighting, but she insisted he go back - sent him with her potions, anything to make sure this wasn’t the end.
The fire started soon after he left, and Lily was in panic. Any air she tried to breath was wrought with smoke, the coughs that came with it only brought more pain. She had no way to stand, no way to run, and the flames only seemed to be drawing nearer.
A sudden noise, and Lily’s head snapped to the side - Merlin, that hurt - eyes squinting as she tried to make out the figure. It couldn’t be James or Remus, they wouldn’t be acting so strange. “Who are you?” she called out, voice hoarse, both from smoke and injuries.
The figure came further into the light, a face that Lily didn’t know, and her eyes only squinted further. Could she trust this person? How easily it could have been another death eater, though, they probably would have only cursed her more. “You look like you’ve bloody seen a ghost,” she retorted back, before her gaze was distracted by the nearing flames. “I - can you help me get away from the fire?”
These were the robes he’d hiked in for miles to commit slaughter but they were not his robes. Stained with sweat and grime he had no idea of the atrocities he may have committed because he didn’t commit them but now, Antonin had the subtlest hope of making amends and sewing up the hole he’d ripped in his own soul, somehow.
She was scared.
Eyes the color of ornamental jade she stared at him with that orange glow kissing her freckled face; wondering if he was friend or foe. Antonin wouldn’t be able to answer her because he, too, wasn’t sure.
“Antonin Dolohov,” he replied quietly, his feet sinking into moss-laden Earth covered by wet leaves and he bent his knees to become level with her uncertain, unfamiliar gaze. “I wan’ to help you.” He couldn’t tell if her hair was actually pumpkin-orange or if the fire shaded it just so, but it was mesmerizing and so he stared for a count too long.
“Jus’ don’ know what the piss is goin’ on here,” he commented, gesturing vaguely into the distance. “But yeah, let’s get you somewhere safe, then.” Antonin shifted forward, using muscles he’d been training for months just in case he needed to use them in such a way, and met her gaze. “Mind if I pick you up? Be easier. Also, what in the hell happened to you?”
65 Questions You Aren't Used To
1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?
2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?
3. The person you would never want to meet?
4. What is your favorite word?
5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?
6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?
7. What shirt are you wearing?
8. What do you label yourself as?
9. Bright room or dark room?
10. What were you doing at midnight last night?
11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?
12. Who told you they loved you last?
13. Your worst enemy?
14. What is your current desktop picture?
15. Do you like someone?
16. The last song you listened to?
17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?
18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?
19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?
20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)
21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?
22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?
23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?
24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.
25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?
26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?
27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?
28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?
29. What is your favorite expletive?
30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?
31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!
33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?
34. What was your last dream about?
35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?
36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?
37. Have you ever built a snowman?
38. What is the color of your socks?
39. What type of music do you like?
40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?
41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?
42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)
43. Do you have any scars?
44. What do you want to be when you graduate?
45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
46. Are you reliable?
47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?
48. Do you hold grudges?
49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?
50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?
51. Are you a good liar?
52. How long could you go without talking?
53. What has been you worst haircut/style?
54. Have you ever baked your own cake?
55. Can you do any accents other than your own?
56. What do you like on your toast?
57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?
58. What would be you dream car?
59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.
60. Do you believe in aliens?
61. Do you often read your horoscope?
62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?
63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?
64. What do you think about babies?
65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.
Uncertain Change // Dolohov & Walburga
walburgaxblack.
Youth. There was something incredibly irritating about the new generation of witches and wizards growing up among the pureblood ranks. Dolohov was not the first who thought he could wave away lack of etiquite with a charming smile and flattering comment. Walburga Black was long past the years when her heart would have fluttered at such cheeky excuses, and made it known by another raised eyebrow in Antonin’s direction before turning taking his arm. At least he had gotten something right.
“Things have been quite alright, all things considered.” Walburga felt her jaw tightening, an instinctual reaction to the prying questions, however well-natured his intentions might have been. Since the war had started, however, and the appearance of this extra group intent on reigning terror down on everyone involved, one couldn’t be to careful. Still, it would be rude to leave it at that, so she sighed as she walked, giving another forced smile.
“The blizzard has really put a damper on my plans to throw another party. My sister-in-law and I hosted one earlier this month, but with the weather and other engagements… the next one will have to wait until late into March, I’m afraid.” Walburga shook her head dismissively. It didn’t matter much, but one must keep up appearances. And Walburga had always been wonderful at pretending nothing mattered to her more than a successful party.
“Oh yes, please do tell Grace that I send my regards. How has she been? I was so sad she wasn’t able to join us for tea. A few of us ladies got together to catch up and she unfortunately wasn’t able to make it… never quite gave us a reason as to her absence. I do hope she is alright.” The expectancy and pressure behind the words was evident, she was sure Antonin would pick up on it. That was the pureblood way, veiled meanings and forced smiles. It was an art that Walburga positively excelled at.
His pockets were filled with loose change wisdom from situations so like this one he could have written the most realistic scene describing this moment without even thinking. Meeting with those like his mother, his mother’s friends, his mother’s sisters, somehow always went the same even when it was always different. Between the simple handshakes and polite, tight-lipped kisses pressed to the back of dainty fingers and the words he tried to speak more clearly on the tip of his tongue when his mouth was typically so loose, it was painfully predictable.
Though, somehow, Walburga had this sense where she was different, in a way, in her own way. Antonin filled his face with a smile and kept his arm tightly wound around hers, her petite and robe-covered elbow pointy in an almost dagger-like way and it settled by his ribcage, as though placed there on purpose. She could jab him, stab him with the swift jerk of her arm and Antonin Dolohov would be left defenseless.
“Shame,” he replied, resisting the urge to give an exaggerated eye roll and instead replaced it with a believable frown. “I know parties are great social affairs, eh? Hope you didn’ put too much time’n money into it jus’ to have it cancelled.” Antonin gestured with a polite wave of his hand that he was going to lead her across the street towards the new apothecary.
“Oh, yeah,” Antonin replied. “She’s been in a rough place, recently. But I will tell her you asked about her. I’m sure she’d love to see you soon. I think it’d be good for her, to get out. Get some fresh air.” His mother, the loony-bin that she’d become, was often a laughing stock and he was not blind. It didn’t matter, though. Antonin didn’t care. He lived his own life, in a sense, his duty to family not quite as strong as that of others in their stupid, little community. But still, he loved her, in a way, and he felt a need to follow her wishes, to an extent.
“Here we are, Ms. Black. The brand new apothecary.”
antonin & lily ✘ blackouts
@wallflower-lils
✘ It was the snap of a twig that created a knee-jerk reaction. One moment, Red watched with a wicked smirk as fire erupted, engulfing trees. People moved nearby but he remained hidden from casualties dragged like fresh meat to safety. The next moment, he withdrew like Devil’s Snare exposed to sunlight. Out popped Antonin Dolohov, blinking away sleepiness and confusion as he adjusted to new surroundings. A dark forest lit up by explosions and brought to life by not so distant screaming.
Set on his face, a silver mask that blocked ragged breathing from properly entering tight lungs and he was quick to remove it, not thinking of who might be nearby, of who may see him in this state. This wasn’t the first time he’d arrived on the scene of horror, confused and terrified, but it hadn’t happened frequently enough for him to know what the fuck to do. Who would know what to do here, now, with fire burning and---
---shit! A girl, pale-faced and in clear agony, rested against a nearby tree, unaware of his presence until--
---he stumbled back like a fucking idiot, the sight of her allowing his foot to crash down against a twig and---
---SNAP!!
The girl, despite all her body was putting her through, looked towards him and Antonin froze. It was dark, but the chance that she might recognize him beneath vague moonlight and glowing flames was far too great for him to simply take off, appearing guilty for sins he did not remember committing. Before she could process anything, Antonin stowed his, or whoever had been cursing his fucking body’s, mask away, and he moved forward.
“You alrigh’?” he asked, trying to speak softly but doing his best not to cause alarm. Genuinely, he wanted to help her, wanted her to help him, too, because Merlin knew what in the fuck was going on here. “You need some help? Look half dead, no offense.”
antonin & narcissa ℘ checking and double checking
always-pure.
Narcissa took a long sip of her tea, the burning sensation on her tongue clearing her mind. She listened to Antonin’s words and realized that this was perhaps the first time someone had told her something like that.
That in the end all she had was herself. Everyone else just told her about how they were always going to be there for her. But it was a lie. Andromeda had left. The others could leave any time too. Antonin was right. After everything she had done for her family, she deserved to be happy.
His yawn made her painfully aware of how much of this conversation she had taken up for herself. ❝Sorry❞ she apologized with a small smile, ❝I’m sure this was not what you had in mind when you invited me for tea…❞
❝Thank you Antonin. For listening to me❞ Narcissa knew they were not friends, and perhaps that was what had made it easier for her to speak things she had buried long ago. ❝I know what is like to have parents who… well who want to… I hope she understands. You deserve to live your own life.❞
Antonin cocked his head to the side as she muttered an apology, his electric blue eyes squinting in her direction. He shook his head minutely, lips tight as he was about to write her off, but she continued speaking and he remained silent.
“Nah, don’t thank me,” he blurted. “S’fine. An’ I’m sure things’ll work out, righ’? Jus’ gotta have your head in the right place otherwise...” He shrugged. It was difficult knowing he was a disappointment to his mother, would forever be a disappointment to her, but it was difficult to care when this had been his life and it’d gotten him nowhere to pretend with her.
“S’been nice seein’ you, Narcissa. But I’d better get ready,” he said. “Got some plans for this evenin’.” In honesty, his visit with Narcissa hadn’t been as dreadful as he’d imagined it would be; the Pureblood witch a woman he felt for in a way he couldn’t quite describe. She had it rough and he could feel that. He rose to his feet, taking with him the delicate teacup he’d been uncharacteristically sipping from to put in the sink. “I’m sure I’ll see you again, yeah?”
cyrus & antonin ★ magical artifacts
cyrusborgin.
♠ “Yes, everyone has nightmares, but these would be distinctive. Repetitive, realistic, alarming in the way they present themselves,” Cyrus explained, his gaze lifting as he studied Antonin with a bored expression. It was exhausting trying to explain things to people when they didn’t quite understand. That, or he was being intentionally obtuse, which was even more annoying than the man simply misunderstanding.
Leaning back in his chair, he listened as he described his experiences, his lips pursing as he considered his options. One of the more difficult things about magical items was that often there were several that overlapped that had similar effects. People who had heard of one attempting to replicate the same item because they desired it’s power. It diluted the field, making it obnoxious when trying to pinpoint an artifact by it’s use or symptoms. Flicking through the pages of his book, he scanned through it before turning it around, tossing the open book onto the coffee table between them.
“The interesting thing about artifacts is that they can have long term effects. Unlike spells, there is rarely a time limit. That is why so many individuals come looking for amulets and medallions when they desire to control someone else instead of merely whipping out their wand and casting a spell. They don’t require proximity, merely that the individual be wearing it,” Cyrus drawled, pushing himself forwards so that he sat on the edge of his seat. “If you are suddenly breaking out of this daze, then either the object is being removed from you or it has been set with a specific amount of time to produce the desired action. While there are a few items like that, as you can see in the book, that one fact limits the likelihood.”
Cocking a brow at Antonin, he raised his glass in his direction, before taking a sip of the amber liquid within. “In my professional opinion, if you do not recognize any of the items on that page, I doubt it has been caused by a cursed item. That doesn’t mean you are not being cursed, of course. Merely that whomever might be doing this to you is someone close to you. Likely a person in your daily life.”
★ “It’s possible, then,” Antonin began, his eyes growing more distant by the second, pupils shrinking to pinpricks as though caving in on themselves and absorbing into racing thoughts, “that somethin’ I own and wear is cursed an’ the curse comes an’ goes?” He wasn’t sure he understood Cyrus. Distractions limited his focus, his thoughts spiraling like an avalanche gathering speed as it descended down a mountainside. He couldn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend the complexity of his mind, of these things that kept happening to him. Why was it so convoluted? He needed a week off to write everything down, to pour over books, to question anyone with potential insight.
But there was a distinct part of him that wanted nothing to do with this. Maybe ignorance was bliss. Not knowing what was happening and why might prevent it from happening more frequently. Perhaps it was power of suggestion; the more he thought of it, the worse it became.
“I know you don’ have the answers for me, mate,” Antonin said firmly, gaze finally meeting his. “Jus’- this shit is weird, an’ if I’m bein’ honest, fuckin’ scary. Not knowin’ what’s happenin’ to me. Guess I’d better be careful. Sure it’s nothin’ big. Don’ reckon I’ve too many enemies, none that’d go to this length.” With a long and slow exhale through parted lips, Antonin got to his feet. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Sorry for disturbin’ you.”
red & mary ✗ eye of the storm
maryxgracexmacdonald.
Mary couldn’t understand why he was doing this to her. What had she ever done to him? On that thought, what had she ever done to Mulciber or any of the others who attacked her? Nothing. She couldn’t understand where he got this idea that she had stolen magic from someone. Was that even possible? Mary didn’t even think it was. And yet he was accusing her of such a thing, and when she had only been a little girl. At the time she hadn’t even known magic existed, much less how to steal it from someone. But what bothered her the most was that Mary couldn’t figure out if he was going to kill her or leave her alive so that he could toy with her at a later date?
When Mary fell from the celling, her body felt like jello. Her body crumpled under her from the force of the fall, her chest heaved as she laid there for a moment or two to collect her breath before his feet surrounded her.
With all the strength she had remaining, she pulled herself up to lean against the legs of the chair. She narrowed her eyes in disgust at his clear pleasure of her body being able to squeeze into that tight space. She had taken gymnastics as a child and had remained the flexibility as an adult. But otherwise she remained silent.
The feeling of his fingers brushing her hair from her face caused her stomach to surge. His touch made her sick. But the feeling of his fingers wrapping around her neck was even worse. Her own fingers clawed at the strong hand around her neck feeling the air rush from her lungs, she gasped and gaged begging for air once more. The second her body collided with the bed, Mary took in greedy breaths to fill her aching lungs.
Before she could recover though, he uttered that dreaded word again. Mary screamed out in pure agony. Her whole body was alit with pain, each nerve was on fire and protesting at the utter unnatural and disturbing pain. Her body convulsed, wave after wave of pain ruining her nerves and her mind. No one told you that it wasn’t your only your body that suffered, your mind did as well. You couldn’t conceive this amount of pain and Mary couldn’t see the end of the tunnel. It felt eternities longer than the last time as every nerve screamed in agony and her mind faded into a singular thought to make it stop.
Her body collapsed onto the bed. His words barely registered and echoed around her mind. No words escaped her rose colored lips as pained mocha eyes stared at him.
This whole charade quickly bored him. Close quarters, face in hers, that was not his go-to style, but Red would take what he could get when it came to the Cause, so long as he pleased his Master. Electric blue eyes studied the way her body convulsed and crumbled, agony ripping through her from skin, through layers of muscle and fat, all the way down to her bones. Each cell ignited with a thousand knives, relentlessly stabbing over and over and over.
He’d experienced this Curse just once himself after he pissed off the wrong person, but he’d mastered the exact way to move his wand and the precise method of pronouncing the way it was spoken with meaning to give someone the Curse at least two dozen times. The first time, it thrilled him if only because he’d finally managed to perfect it. But now, Red was tired.
He released his hold on her and sneered as the brunette crumbled against the bed, her body wrought with exhaustion from his Unforgiveable. He could nearly feel her surrender, but she had to say it first. Gods, these stubborn bitches.
“My heavens, girl. You sure as hell got a big old pair’ve lady-nuts on you,” he laughed. “Puttin’ up with that again, most’ve ‘em have jus’ gone and given me whatever I damn well want. Not you. Look at you, pantin’ all pretty. You ready to give up yet or you need another round?” He held up his wand threateningly, arm lowering level with her gaze. He held it there for several counts, a smirk on his lips before he released a low chuckle, arm swinging at his side.
“Nah,” he said. “I’m over the Cruciatus. Now be a good guest and get me a goddamn drink. And get yourself one, too, sweet girl. You sure as hell must be dehydrated.”
oliver & greta ☫ maybe he’s born with it
margaretacatchlove.
❈ Staring across at Antonin curiously, Greta tried to work out what he was implying. Her gaze lingered on his fingers as they brushed against her arm, her tongue pressing sharply against the edge of her teeth, keeping her grounded in the moment. It would have been easy to get swept away with her thoughts, to sit there trying to figure out the man before her, but she knew she couldn’t allow that to happen. It would be jumping down a rabbit hole, not knowing where she would end up, because there was clearly no easy answer for what was going on in that moment.
If he was trying to convince her that she was the one that was running scared, he had another thing coming. She was not about to back down just because he was pretending to be someone else.
“Me? You think I’m shittin’ scared? Of fuckin’ what? His tongue?” Greta scoffed, shaking her head at his words. “Please, don’t damn well make me laugh, mate. I’ve never been bleedin’ scared of a bloke in my life, don’t fuckin expect to start now. Though what the hell do you mean, it’s your to blame?” She looked at him curiously, wishing she could get to the bottom of this insane act.
Smirking, Greta took another heaping spoonful of icecream, shrugging her shoulders carelessly. “I don’t fuckin’ care about the sugar or the damn fat. I’m only going to bloody well live once, might as well enjoy it, eh?” She retorted, shoveling the massive amount of icecream into her mouth with a laugh. “You’re damn well skinny as fuck. If you think you bleedin’ need the gym, you’re mad.”
Shaking her head slowly, she pursed her lips. “Didn’t have any bleedin’ plans, actually. Got out of fuckin’ work earlier than expected and was just goin’ to damn well wander. I’m all for shittin’ spontaneity too though. Maybe we should fuckin’ go skinny dippin’,” she joked as she pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “Or, we could damn well do something less bleedin’ drastic and go to the mall.”
Oliver rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. He only knew glimpses of this woman; of what pieces of Antonin’s thoughts were leaked to him. He didn’t know her ins and outs, the way she worked, what made her tick; but it was enough to gather that she was no easy bird. He sighed before catching her gaze.
“Sweetie, we both know that sex includes a lot more than tongues and dicks and--” he scrunched up his nose in distaste as he gestured to her breasts. “Y’know. I don’t reckon you’re the type to be scared of sex, but there’s more than just sex in this situation and we both know it.” He tilted his head to the side, daring her to argue when he knew it was truth. “I’m part of the reason he’s so goddamn distant all the time, right? Are you catching on yet, love, because this is awfully hard to express and I don’t imagine he even wants you to know about it.”
The crowded little shop buzzed with life as people continued to filter in for their share of sundae. It didn’t matter that it was cold out. Florean Fortescues always seemed crowded because they sold a good product and knew how to sell it, too. Oliver laughed quietly. “Oh please. Skinny? Maybe Antonin. I mean-- he’s more-- burly than anything,” he sighed, chewing down on his lower lip. “But I like your attitude. It’s true. You do only live once right?” He scooped a heaping spoonful into his mouth, enjoying the sweet taste.
“The mall could be nice. Reckon it’s a little too cold for skinny dipping. And my goodness, Ms. Greta. Are you always so--- vulgar?” he asked, bopping her gently on the nose with a single finger. “Alright. Let’s get out of here. I’d love to get some new stuff.”
antonin & greta ψ explain
margaretacatchlove.
There was a tightness to Antonin’s expression as she spoke, as words took on life and painted him a picture of what had passed between them before. There was no light of acknowledgement, no recognition in the depths of his cerulean eyes that told her he was playing some fucked up game. Whatever this was, it was real, it was frightening, but only because a part of her cared for the man that stood before her. Anxiety was prevalent within his gaze, his entire being feeling as though it could explode into chaos at any moment if tripped.
It was the reminder of that night that grounded her, her head tilting to the side as she observed the slight change in the slump of his shoulders. It was one thing they shared, one thing that hadn’t been ripped from them by whatever was happening. She couldn’t help but feel relieved, knowing that the emotions they shared, the ones that had seemingly passed between them that day were still intact.
“Well, good to fuckin’ know that at least one bleedin’ thing was real,” Greta muttered, her small fingers dropping to Antonin’s shoulders, as if trying to keep him in place. “Look, I know this is damn confusing and bloody frightening. We don’t shittin’ know what happened or what caused this bleedin’ change, but we’ll fuckin’ figure it out. Together, yeah? If you’re damn well worried about it happenin’ again, I can bloody hang out with you more and I can keep you from fuckin’ runnin’ off and shavin’ your body again.” Her final words came out like a joke, an attempt to lighten the situation, but she felt as though it fell flat. She wanted to be able to help him, if something was truly going wrong. While it was difficult to admit to herself, she hated seeing him so upset, every part of her aching to make it better. They had been friends long before anything else had occurred, and she was nothing if not loyal to those she cared for.
Cocking her head to the side, her shoulders rose and fell, a breath pressing from her lips as she completed the action. “Look, whatever the fuck is going on, I’m doubtin’ it was your bleedin’ Mum. No offence to her, but she isn’t this damn creative from what I remember,” Greta commented, twisting a lock around her finger as she thought. “No, if it was shittin’ her, you’d be off and bloody married to some bird by now. What about the fuckin’ people at work? Maybe there’s something bloody there that would like to discredit you. Would explain the whole fuckin’ get up and the odd way you acted.”
As he pulled back from her to sit on the edge of the couch, she could see the fine tremor in his hands, the sight of it breaking her heart. Reaching out, she covered his hands with her own, trying to view the storm as it careened across his face. “Antonin,” she murmured, pressing her forehead against his temple. “You’re going to be alright. I fuckin’ promise.”
She was frustrated which hardly helped his anxiety. Nerves spiraled from his gut outward, tingling across each of his extremities; down his legs and shooting through his curling toes, over his biceps and forearms, causing long fingers to twitch uncomfortably. Her snide comment left lead in his belly and he wanted to vomit. What he needed most was understanding and an explanation for his lost time, for the things happening in his mind, not for Greta to take this personally. She’d always been bright beyond her years, her ability to read him far better than he would have liked.
But he could not blame her. All he wanted was to lash out in frustration because this entire fucked up situation was so beyond his level of comprehension the only thing he could be was angry, and yet Greta stood there beside him. Testy though she could be, the words following agitation were that of curiosity, of concern. Whatever this was that had happened to him, and would, perhaps continue to happen, it hadn’t scared her away. In a world that didn’t cater to the crazy, she was taking this better than she should have.
A forced smile made its way over his lips before he glanced away. “I donno, Greta. Appreciate the sentiment,” he commented. “I jus’ don’ know what’s happenin’. I reckon it’s gotta be some kind’ve curse or-- poison. Donno who would have it out for me, but guess I’ve probably pissed some people off. Don’ think you’ve gotta have motive anymore, these days, to do this kind’ve shit, right?” he asked, hoping for her validation. It was what he craved right now. He needed to convince himself it was a force outside of himself that caused periods of time to erase from his memory all together. It had to be some kind of crazy circumstance to land him where Greta claimed she saw him just a few days prior.
Oliver. What. The. Fuck.
Antonin shrugged. He mostly worked alone in a quiet office, sorting files. On occasion, he’d get called to a scene to take notes, but that sort of field work was left to those in higher positions.
And what about Wednesdays? Maybe, just maybe---
“What’re you doin’ Wednesday?” he asked before he could stop himself, his eyes catching hers as their hands touched. The sensation grounded him and Antonin was able to breathe through a soft, distant smile. “S’fine. I’m sure. Jus’-- probably a prank or somethin’.”
Antonin Dolohov → R a v e n c l a w
antonin & orion ● after the meeting
orionblvck.
“Say that to my wife and she may try to cut your tongue out,” he mused, chuckling into his cup as he took another sip. He forgot how it felt to have an honest conversation with another man, and the words he shared with Alfred reminded him of his younger self; someone not bound by their duty. It was simple, easy, and Orion was relieved to be talking about something other than strategies and revenge.
“Not many people know that about me. If you can believe that.” Orion smirked as he placed his cup down, folding his hands on top of the bar. He turned to Alfred, something more than just a promise gleaming in his eye. “I expect it to stay that way, friend.” His words were sharp as he spoke, but his demeanor changed just as he finished his sentence, relaxed and unassuming, as if what he just said wasn’t spoken with a barely there threat.
Orion pulled out a shimmering black pocket watch engraved with his families motto, an heirloom that has been passed down from father to son for generations. He raised an eyebrow at the time, surprised at how quickly it seemed to go by. “A few minutes shy of 9 ‘o’ clock. You’ve got somewhere to be? Don’t let me keep you if so. I imagine I’ll have to leave soon. I wouldn’t want my wife sending the house elf to collect me…again,” he said, rolling his eyes with a sigh.
“Women,” Antonin replied in a way that didn’t exactly represent his own views but in a manner he'd heard others speaking in such environments with such people. He forced a smile and leaned forward into his drink, sipping it lightly. Without Orion drinking, he felt little need to drink fast, to feel the heady sort of inebriation given to him from hard liquor.
Antonin cocked a single brow and shrugged a loose shoulder. “Don’t reckon I’ve any reason to go spreadin’ your business ‘round, mate. I’m not much a gossip, me. Leave that to the birds.” He gave Orion a quick, convincing wink, and folded his hands on the bar.
“Yeah,” Antonin replied, finishing off his rum with one last gulp before setting down the glass with a heavy thud, glad for the chance at escape. This whole thing was a rush. Lying was a fucking rush, and one he didn’t necessarily enjoy but one that was satisfying because, as far as he was aware, he’d gotten away with it. Still, he didn’t wish to push his luck. “Better get my arse home. Nice goin’ out, though. I’m sure I’ll be seein’ you around.” Gods, he hoped not. If Orion recognized him without this disguise, Antonin didn’t want to think of what might happen. “See ya.” He rose to his feet to head out.
Uncertain Change // Dolohov & Walburga
walburgaxblack.
Walburga’s lips pursed, her distaste barely concealed. His uncertainty at his recognition was not promising, and certainly did not bode well for their encounter. She inclined her head, offering nothing more than a thin line on her face. She could already feel the dull ache in the back of her head. Usually it was only brought on by the incompetence of her own husband. It was incredible how men seemed to be universally idiotic.
She listened to his explanation, arms crossing in front of her as her attention turned back to the store. An icy glare found it’s mark on two more women, obviously low-class trying to appear higher. They laughed uproariously at something that was undoubtedly not actually that entertaining. She sighed audibly, turning her attention back to Antonin as he spoke of another potions shop. It wouldn’t be as trustworthy as the last one. The man handled her requests quietly and without question. But she did need a new supplier.
“It’s Madame. I haven’t been a ‘miss’ in a very long time.” She raised a delicately shaped eyebrow, her face hardening as she looked the wizard up and down once more. No wonder the Dolohov family had lost their standing in recent generations. If he had been raised with this sort of propriety it was a wonder they were still considered of pure blood line at all. His eyes roamed their way across her features, earning him an even darker scowl.
“Well I certainly can’t refuse an offer like that. How lucky that you’ve got some time.” Walburga tapped a foot impatiently, nodding in his direction. “Well? Lead the way. I don’t seem to have as much time to go about wandering the streets just after a blizzard as some others seem to.” Cold eyes cut between the new store and her undesirable escort. This was turning out to be a much more troublesome afternoon than she had planned.
Her lips appeared wine-soaked and tight as she assessed him with displeasure in her hallow eyes. There was something he’d said, something in the way he held himself that struck her negatively and Antonin held back a sigh of irritation. She was one of those types. Out of habit, he immediately composed himself and delivered a soft and charming smile.
“Forgive me,” he replied. “You jus’ look so young.” Antonin tilted his head to the side, standing wth loose arms hanging at his sides as he merely took it from her. Her scowling, her distaste, the way she clearly thought herself superior-- it was just like every aunt he had. This one, though, she seemed a little more rough around the edges.
“Brilliant,” he replied, holding out his arm for Walburga to hold onto in an attempt at being a gentleman. It was what he was taught, though he always did fall short of success in such areas of his life. Antonin began to lead her down the alley towards the new apothecary. He did like it. Their supplies were just as quality and he found they had more variety. Still, some people did not appreciate change and Walburga seemed to be one of them.
“How have things been on the home front?” he tried. “I’m sure my mum will be pleased to hear I saw you.”
