alastormccdy-archive-blog

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

mrymcdnldx:

Stroking the cover of the book, Mary gazed down at it fondly, proper acknowledgements stuck at the base of her throat. “Thank you.” It came out in a hoarse whisper, a sign of how difficult it still was to accept kind gestures. How accepting things never had, likely never would, come easily. Many nights would be spent pouring over the pages, and that was far better than the alternative of staring at the ceiling, mind racing in an attempt to think of a distraction. “I look forward to reading it.” An understatement, to say the least. Carefully placing it in her bag, her focus went over to him, a tiny smile crossing her face. “I think I’d go insane without it.” Said lightly to hide the completely honest undertones. 

There was something unspoken about Mary that made their unexpected connection much more real, and it went way beyond a shared passion. Perhaps it was the way they both used the stars, not as adornments but as life-force, escapism at its best. He sat down, a quick glance out the window before turning his attention back to her. "Maybe that's what's happening to me." The half smile on his face matched the lightness of her words. "Things just got in the way, I guess." He went silent for a beat, as if debating himself over the words about to leave his mouth. "And sometimes it's just not easy to get back into old things. It's like they don't belong to you anymore, I guess. Your mental pace just changes." He looked down at her bag, switching back to their EASY conversation. "It's got a bunch of notes on the margins. Muggle sciences needed some explanations so that's all just some personal research."

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

madamacdougal:

       ❝  like i said , it’s no bother to me what you do.  ❞ her tone was almost biting , laced with the expectation that came along with his visits. what he did within the bounds of the three broomsticks absolutely bothered her , because it almost always concerned her. it almost always forced her to care beyond the parameters of a business owner. the female lingered for a moment , scanning the surroundings as she listened to him. she held her breath until she heard it  - -  the request she had become all too familiar with. a favor. favors often meant harboring and ensuring the safekeeping of key individuals. it meant participating in a war she had “sworn” neutrality in. she dropped the tray to the table , the clanking of empty glasses ringing throughout the room.     ❝ no.  ❞

he didn't blink at the impact of the tray on the table. she could make all the fuss she wanted, but he'd keep on asking and asking and asking. alastor was a persistent man, especially when it came to order business. " WE are not asking for much. it would be discreet, at night. after that, it would only last for a handful of days while we search for a more stable option." his words were vague, only meant to be completely understood by rosmerta. she'd done him enough favours to know it all by now. "you know i wouldn't ask you unless it was dire," he leaned forward a bit, a serious look on his face. alastor moody wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

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sefkarkaroff:

“If you think that is good idea- go for it. I will be standing in corner slight judging you.”

"Don't be passive-aggressive." Alastor didn't look at the young auror, his eyes still fixated on the small lounge area used mainly by older aurors with time on their hands and medals on their fireplace mantels. "Sanders won't show me her files, but I'll get them anyway." He'd been telling Iosef for days now how the stubborn auror, blinded by pride, had been refusing to share information on a case with Alastor, even though he was CERTAIN that it had details she'd overlooked and would be useful for his own investigations. Borrowing them anyway just seemed like the best next option. "You can stand in the corner being useless OR you can distract her and make this way easier."

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

itsamos:

amos loved the way alastor smiled ; he got these crinkles, by his eyes, little LAUGHTER lines that amos wanted to trace over – would spend hours, if he could, running his fingers lightly across scars and skin, memorizing the patterns they made. 

he didn’t smile enough, amos wanted to tell him that, tell him that there was something so b e a u t i f u l about the way his cracked lips curled when he laughed, that his freckles glowed beneath the red of his cheeks ; amos wanted to tell him that he was so much more than he believed, tell him that cedric was so in love with him, so amazed by him tell him that he was what amos considered home.

he wanted to tell him so much M O R E than he could, but he bit all it back and stayed quiet instead. this war, this life, there was no time for love and he knew it, so he accepted whatever piece of himself alastor was willing to give and treasured the softest moments, like these, where he could pretend it was different.

“ don’t do that. ” amos whispered, quiet so that cedric couldn’t hear his voice break. “ don’t go yet. ” he couldn’t hide the desperation in his voice, as much as he tried. it’d been a month since they’d seen each other, and amos knew he was being selfish, knew alastor had more important things to be doing right now, that playing house wasn’t a priority, but he was feeling particularly WEAK, in this moment, so he asked anyway. 

it never went smoothly. alastor still hoped that a few words and he'd be on his way, regrets clogging up his chest and all the different paths he could take slipping through his fingers. he was far too unbent on his obvious collision course to turn back and take any of the brighter roads and amos shone particularly bright. it BURNED and did he wish at times to just keep on burning - anything would feel better than the growing cold. but it didn't matter, because it never worked. when he cut things too short and managed to get the words out, amos pulled him back in. other times, when he let himself stay for too long, drown in that normalcy, the words wouldn't leave his mouth. he'd leave a note and vanish when the other wasn't looking ( his hand always stayed for too long in the door handle ). no, no, no, he didn't have time for that. the smile on his lips didn't belong there, neither did the child in his arms, the man in front of him. it was all messed up, AGAIN.

so he said it. that was nice. a fun day. the three looked so normal, so peaceful; his mind had been quieter that day. but like all good things, it simply had to end. don't do that. the way amos's voice cracked, the lightness of the moment fading fast, those pleading eyes. alastor's smile was gone. he was far too honest to keep it when it felt like he was choking. just as he was pulling away, amos wasn't just calling him back in, he was dragging him, bloodied and raw, even if that wasn't what he meant to do. he was just being selfish and alastor envied him for it - but it hurt nevertheless. soft words and broken voices were the most powerful weapons one could use on alastor moody.

he was quiet for a moment too long, but his eyes didn't leave amos. he wouldn't deserve him doing that. "you know what happens when i stay." he whispered back, even though cedric had long become distracted by the busy street behind them. he was silent for too long again before sighing and giving up, but only partially. he could convince himself he'd back out early enough. "maybe we should go to your place. he's probably tired. we can talk properly there." he'd know when to pull back, he would. 

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

itsamos:

cedric giggled brightly, smile wide and honest in alastor’s arms, so freely HAPPY, like this.

 ( cedric was so innocent, amos really hoped he never lost that light, that the war wouldn’t ever touch him. it was nothing more than a dream, and he knew it, knew the chaos would find them eventually, but right now, with his son pulling at alastor’s dark curls, a perfect fit in his arms, it almost felt achievable. ) 

“ i’m R E A L L Y sorry about that, ” amos muttered sheepishly, breath coming out in short pants, winded from running to catch the two by the storefront. “ he’s uh, he’s started walking, recently, and um, well, you know how that leads to running. he’s been a bit hard to keep track of recently. ” 

the boy's laughter brought a smile to his lips, wider than the ones anyone else got - even wider than the ones he secretly shared with amos. it looked out of place in his battered face, even if at the moment it was enjoying a rare moment of rest, only scars remaining. it looked out of place in his name, alastor moody, a leader, a terrifying soldier, a merc not by trade. it looked out of place in hisyear, up until then so filled with tragedy and frustration. it had been especially bleak; year by year they just kept getting worse - and he hadn't seen amos in so long. that certainly took away some of the joy. he hadn't seen cedric in even longer. his smile looked so out of place.

it felt like it too.

alastor turned towards amos while his hair was getting gently pulled, his face rocking a little back and forth, his cheeks poked and his scars analyzed - cedric seemed to be having some fun up there. "he's alright, that's what matters. he just has a LOT to see, right?" he tilted his head at the boy, the smile still very much there. if anything, it’d gotten slightly wider after one look at amos. "just be careful." his words were no longer directed at ced. "and calm down." that felt contradictory. moody, who always preached for cautious alertness, asking him to relax a little. then again, with amos, he was always stuck in a contradictory path. that was why he hadn't seen him in over a month. he pulled and pushed. "everything's alright." he finally turned his gaze back to the other man, the words no longer a code, with different meanings for the two diggorys. "you're doing great." his tone was a bit more serious now. "he's great, so cut yourself some slack.” he let his head drop onto the boy’s shoulder, still very much occupied with his face. “THIS was really nice." those words never meant just that. they were always a way to ease into a goodbye. he was doing it again. 

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

okcaradoc:

            “ i said I THINK. ” he gave him a look, as if the answer was obvious as he waved off his words. under normal circumstances, caradoc would never find himself openly hanging out with someone like alastor moody. he would’ve judged the man by his cover and his career, deeming him what the old men in jail cells used to call a NARC. that would’ve been a mistake. 

            he listened to him speak and nodded along, finding the rush of a good fight to be all too enticing. that being said, he knew a dumb decision when presented with one. moody was right; the BASTARD. “ the weather outside is weather, ” he repeated with a sarcastic shrug, downing the rest of his drink as his gaze rushed back to the reflection. walking through the entrance was their guy; however, as previous assumed, he wasn’t alone. “ …shit on my dick. ” he muttered in casual annoyance, tilting his head slightly in order to notify alastor. 

"sure is." he held in a chuckle, hidden behind a small smile. he wasn't too keen on chasing anyone in the middle of a rainstorm at night; it was as far from ideal as possible. his mind quickly stepped in, trying to fill in the gaps on a potential course of action. the streets would be mostly empty, due to the rain. doors would be closed as well. there would be nowhere for their target to escape but up into the roofs, around all the narrow streets or allies inside stores that could pull him in. those same ones could easily jump out on them. that, of course, would be unlike since they were almost certain that their operation had not caught anyone's radars. his planning was interrupted by caradoc's warning. shit.

he gave them a glance before turning his attention to their table. he was still up for it, and didn't for a moment question if doc was as well. it would simply make the chase harder. "suitcase." once again, their intel was wrong. it wasn't just a meeting, it was a transaction. what was a clear mission had suddenly become a mess they'd be entering blindfolded. "it'll be quicker like this." his facial expression was worlds away from the severity and secrecy of his words. a simple exchange would certainly take less time than what they'd prepared for - moody could feel the adrenaline rise in him, an urge to get it all started.

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

gid-prewett:

                Coming face to face with an obviously irritated Moody, intimidation should be welling up. Moody could beat his ass from here to the Burrow with one hand tied behind his back and yet -  ‘No hello, no how’s the wife, how’re the kids. It’s like you aren’t a lick happy to see me.’ Perhaps he should have been on time, but nothing calamitous happened from his thirty-six minute  -who keeps track to the minute- delay. Unless the other man developing further worry lines counts. He made an after you gesture, grabbing the older man’s shoulder before he disappeared. One apparation path was safer than two. He supposes Moody taught him that. Sparing a quick glance around their surroundings as they landed, his hand deftly sifted through the items in his bag. ‘So what’s the plan captain?’ His eyes searched the face of his former teacher -if three weeks counts- before a long, dark blue snake of knitting followed his hand out. Tossing the scarf at Moody- ‘It’s getting cold.’

They arrived at the countryside road with a quick head spinning pull of magic, to which Moody had long become desensitized to. The wind raged against them and the trees, but no other person was in sight. The auror quickly turned his back on the other wizard, walking a couple of steps while analyzing their surroundings. "Not your captain," he counted the houses as he threw in the mindless correction at him - Alastor was not a leader, nor did he have any wish to be seen as one. He turned towards Gideon once again, eyes nowhere near him but rather on the patchy road that stretched before him. Easy muggle access, most definitely on local maps, perhaps if- his silent studying of the place was interrupted by something thrown his way, and he fought the urge to grab his wand and blast it, but just barely. It had become somewhat of an automatic response. No one's there but Gideon. The harmless scarf dangled by his left hand, the right one over his pocket nevertheless. It was close. Very close. "Don't do that shit." His voice was low, as if trying to bury that afterthought. A quick glance at the thing and he sighed, wrapping it around his neck. "Yeah, yeah, thank you. Molly’s?” His gaze returned to the houses, hoping to ignore the urgency still in his hands. “Let’s get this over quickly and I’ll buy lunch or something. Tired of this place already.”

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

( continuing this )

“There's always a reason to think otherwise." Living in any other way would be foolish. His comment, though, was more of a mumble - a cautionary advice with little to add to the conversation. His attention was elsewhere, eyes traveling as wildly as discretion would allow him from window to window, a hand in his pocket, gripping his wand. Pandora hasn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. That should be enough, but something in the back of his mind wouldn't let him drown in that likely truth. He'd heard the footsteps, and seen the same faces in far too many stops on the way. Something had to be off. "Think. Your last few sales - no one dodgy, suspicious, asking too many questions, lingering around for too long? Besides me." At least he was somewhat self-aware.

@fatalturn

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

gid-prewett:

‘Fuck, shit, shit all’ Barely dodging a gaggle of party goers, he continued cursing under his breath as he sprinted through the street. He was late. Of course he was late. He was the late twin. Should have rode the broom, secrecy laws be damned. 'Woah, sorry,’ he shouted over his shoulder before whipping around a corner to find the person waiting for him. 'I know , I know, but’ grinning he lifts up a bag, 'I brought provisions.’

He kept looking back at his watch - it'd soon look suspicious of him to just stand there by himself. Another minute passed, and still no sign of Gideon. Restlessness grew in him; they had far too much stuff to do, and standing outside in the cold, in the middle of a dodgy damp alley, was far from how he'd like to spend all of his Sunday morning. He should leave without him. As soon as the thought hit him, as if to prove him wrong, Gideon sped around the corner, stealth obviously an unknown concept to him. "Unless that bag has the thirty-six minutes you wasted us, does it really matter?" He sighed and rubbed the back of his own neck, forcing himself to let go of the frustration the other had brought - Gideon had far too good of intentions for it. His grin, if anything, was proof of it. "Let's apparate first. You can show me our provisions after it." After all, he'd asked the man himself if he wanted to come prepare safe houses with him, so he just had to deal with it.

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

madamacdougal:

           she waltzes about the three broomsticks with an estimable grace , flirting with the regulars and ensuring that glasses are never empty. this is where she shines. rosmerta stops short , however , in front of an individual that doesn’t seem all-too-enthused with her hospitality. wrinkling her nose , she hoists her tray of drinks onto one hand , using the other to rap against the wood of the table. then , and perhaps more politely , she clears her throat. 

      ❝  can i get you a drink ? or are you more inclined to stare at that wall all evenin’ ?                                                                - - -   it’s no bother to me either way.  ❞

"i’m afraid i don’t have all evening for wall staring." he usually didn't come in. their glaring matches stayed on the other side of the door, where fewer people could see them and even less overhear them. alastor noticed rosmerta's presence soon after she walked in, and had been discreetly keeping up with her as she made her way nearer and nearer to him. "got a favour to ask." his tone was casual, just in case someone's ears got too curious. rarely did he stop by for anything else.

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itsamos:

“ i’m so sorry ” amos stuttered out, sheepish smile on his face. cedric had been SO excited for his ice cream, his little hands waving wildly, that the cone slipped between his fingertips, mint chocolate chip landing across the robes of the person behind them. “ he just um – he’s a bit clumsy. here let me – let me fix that for you ” he put cedric down, with strict instructions not to wander far ( instructions that fell on deaf ears, he was already teetering toward eeylops owl emporium ) before rummaging around his pockets for his wand. 

“ it’s um, it’s here somewhere. ”

"it's just ice cream." amos had a tendency to over-worry, especially when it came to small things like that, and alastor knew well enough to not feed that anxiety. "i can fix it myself, ya know?" he added with a smile, already reaching for his wand when cedric, who'd never left his gaze, not entirely, started wondering off. without a word at amos, he simply touched his arm, grabbing his attention back and gently stopping his frenetic wand searching, as he went after the little runaway himself. just a few of his long steps put him ahead of the little boy, who he swiftly picked up, stopping him before he could get need the door he wouldn't have been able to open. "hasn't your dad told you that y'cannot just walk away? or were you racing us and just forgot to tell us? because that's unfair."

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

okcaradoc:

caradoc paused, eyeing him with an unreadable expression as he lifted the glass of beer to his lips. after a brief moment of silence, he set his drink down and pointed a finger at the man. “ you’re a dick, y’know that? … but i’ll take the raise. ”

“ i know you’re excited an’ all, but eh, ” he leaned forward, elbows on the table as he continued in a whisper. “ … the MORE YA LOOK, the LONGER IT’S GONNA TAKE. ‘sides, got myself a nice lil’ view from here. ” he leaned back, eyes falling to the napkin holder: painted chrome for a modern muggle feel. perfect for reflections. “ so what are we thinkin’, hmm? give it a lil’ time or jump at the ready? … cause i THINK i know what you’re gonna say an’ i ain’t too please about it.” he arched his brow, tapping the table with his knuckles as he offered up a smirk. 

he simpered at the accusation. caradoc could always prove himself quite entertaining, definitely a good thing in less interesting missions like that one. his gaze returned to the other man, following his eyes down to the napkin holder, and moody nodded. "if you know what i'm gonna say, why even ask?" 

the dimly lit pub was far from empty, and much of their voices ended up drowned by distant chatter and the sound of glasses and plates clashing against each other and against tabletops. it would be easy to blend into that frenzy, which was undoubtedly their target's plan. if they leaped into action as soon as they put eyes on him, it would cause too much commotion, and could easily cause them to lose him. instead, they could simply wait at their table, pretend to hold meaningless chats about work and family and whatever it was regular people spent their time chatting about, and let him do what he planned on doing. "we follow him on the way out. fewer people outside." he leaned back in his chair, the butterbeer on his cup nearly gone as he took another gulp - they sure looked normal. "unless, of course, the WEATHER scares you too much."

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

emmelinevan:

     Quiet & calm, though it wasn’t exactly the perfect definition of it, Emmeline felt the past few weeks had been. There had been some turmoil, yes, which was expected in the middle of a war but regarding her own cases – she’d been less than preoccupied. She decided to comb through old ones, checking up on people, making sure that they were still okay, alive & functional. HUMANITY was part of being an Auror, at least, she hoped it was. Nevertheless, it was something she was trying to practice even if brought her face to face with more anguish & destruction caused by the war around them. As she walked to Moody’s office after getting an owl from him, her mind couldn’t help but wonder what it was about – though knowing him she’d find out soon. With a quick knock to alert him of her presence, she opened the door, walked in and shut it immediately. She knew the man liked his privacy. 

     “Hi, I’m here. D’you want to go take a walk? I think some fresh air could do both of us some good. It’s a little musty in here,” she noted aloud, looking around his office. 

@alastormccdy

Paperwork had a tendency to pile up in Alastor's desk. He loved the action of being in the field, the adrenaline pumping through him, and he had a detective's mind - digging through files and connecting the dots was somewhat enjoyable most of the time. Mindlessly handling bureaucracy was not. It was, however, a great activity for days when far too many thoughts flooded his mind, as he could just hide away in his office, sheet after sheet, almost automatically, putting down names and dates. It was the perfect mask, a workaholic seemingly absorbed in work, obviously busy, nothing out of the ordinary there. The knock on the door broke him out of his silent spiraling, and he looked up, nodding as she shut the door. She knew him well enough to not keep it open.

"Yes, definitely not here." He put his quill away, quickly stacking the papers in a more orderly fashion before getting up. "Musty, eh? Should probably fix that." One easy way to start would be to not spend as much time there, but Alastor was too self-aware to think he'd change that anytime soon. In just a moment, he had his jacket on, ready to go. She could know. He had convinced himself enough about that. Even if what he'd been told proved to be wrong, she could know about it. It was far too big of a potential cloud over all their heads for him to not share. Trust, what a tricky thing.

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

hestiajon:

“Of course.” He had a point. Alastor seemed to be BETTER at playing war, at being a soldier, a fighter. To her, it didn’t come natural — Hestia hadn’t been born a fighter, but had grown into one. She assumed that it was opposite with Alastor, but at the same time wondered if anyone was really born that way. Maybe life just forced certain people to grow into that role, with loss or pain or injustice or any other cruel means. She nodded at his words, fighting the blush that crept on her cheeks – there was no room for insecurity in a duel, that kind of stuff got you killed. She waited, but not too long, to make her move, firing two jinxes in quick succession his way – harmless charms that she had once learned in Flitwick’s classroom – keeping a close eye on his wand and keeping her jaws clenched.

She worked fast, a valuable skill. He dodged the first one, which landed on the wall behind them, and sent out a non-verbal jinx, just as harmless as hers, to cancel it out. They could go on like that for a while, slowly easing into it, but Alastor was much keener on jumping in head first. He moved forward, always with his wand ready, starting to cut down the space between them - an unexpected move in a magical duel, meant to put off adversaries. Close range fighting didn't allow for the intricate flashy magic that many duellers favored, and could easily lead into physical contact - few things shocked a blood purist who'd only ever seen muggles at a distance as much as being pulled and shoved in a wand fight. A barely whispered locomotor mortis, another step forward, an immense amount of energy still pent-up; someone needed to give him at least a jog for his money and quickly.

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

luciusmalfys:

“If these … fools knew how to make a proper steak, I’d have no trouble,” began Lucius, trying to keep his voice from being a sneer. “But apparently these House Elves think we’re in France and that steaks are supposed to be brown all the way through. This is not medium rare.” He didn’t mind these events, most of the time — Lucius had Malfoy blood streaming through him, he was built for evenings like these. However, he did expect them to have a certain standard, and this food did not live up to it. He turned to his mashed potatoes in stead, leaving his sad excuse of a steak for what it was. “They can eat it themselves. Maybe it’ll teach them a thing or two about how to cook a proper meal, eh?”

Moody looked down at his steak, with an unimpressed expression. "All that’s happening nowadays and you can still manage to whine about a steak not being medium rare. Gotta love your priorities." He wasn't surprised. The two had been crossing paths in events of the like for years, Alastor always with one foot in, one foot out, and Malfoy seemingly enjoying them. Or nitpicking. Usually the latter. As the years rolled by, it all felt more and more irrelevant, and above all a complete waste of his time. The Malfoys weren't the kind of people he'd pick to be rubbing elbows with. "Do you know how to cook a proper meal, Malfoy?"

[alastormccdy-archive-blog]

❝How can someone just not be there anymore?❞ The words slipped out of his mouth, a rare occurrence. Alastor Moody, always so in control, always so self-aware, simply blurted that out. That's what he got for sticking around at HQ for far too long after a mission - things went sour, and everyone found their way to cope, some at the empty bottom on a glass, some in loved one's arms, some by hiding away in more work. He preferred the latter. What the hell was he still doing there? It didn't matter, he couldn't unsay things. Instead, he just straightened his back and returned to peeling the label of the water bottle, his mind far away once again.

@gretacxtchlxve