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tanyawritesstories · 4 years ago

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Frozen Hopes | The Mandalorian x Reader

This is part 3 of the Frozen Series I have going. At the current point of me publishing this chapter, I'm almost done writing the entire series. I hope y'all are enjoying so far. If you think it's boring right now, trust me, it picks up 😉 enjoy!!

Series Masterlist

Word count: 3.9K

Warnings: fluff, feelings 😱, Din's unique way of parenting, more fluff, the kids are adorable

•••

He had never seen anyone in such awe just from the lights of hyperspace. (Y/N) was still in the cockpit, holding Mandi, and it appeared she hadn't taken her eyes off the viewports since he went down into the hull to look for something. "Don't get dizzy," he said, startling her.

It's been so long since I was in hyperspace. I forgot how hypnotizing it was.

Din hummed and took his seat in front of the controls. "It can be nice sometimes," he mused. They sat in silence for a bit, both just gazing out as millions of stars whizzed by. A hand was placed on his arm and he looked over his shoulder to see her standing with Mandi, awake and looking around, in her arm. She signed that she was going to get some rest and he nodded. “Do you want me to take her?” Y/N thought for a second and nodded, passing Mandi to him. Din had given Y/N permission to touch or tap him if she needed his attention to tell him something, since she couldn't use her voice.

Mandi had just woken up from a nap and was not going back to sleep anytime soon. It was up to him to keep her entertained. Luckily, Y/N had left a couple toys on her seat, Din reached back and grabbed one. It was a badly designed version of a Tooka cat, even if it didn’t look the greatest, he could tell she made it with love. He dangled it above her and wiggled it, a big smile came to Mandi’s face and she reached her little arms up for it. Din tickled her face with it before letting her have it. She put the toy in a small death grip, taking a hold of his finger along with.

He smiled, tickling her chin affectionately with his other hand. Mandi let go of the toy and instead held onto Din’s leather-clad finger. He let her pull his finger towards her mouth. “Why do you like my fingers so much?” He wondered aloud. He pulled his finger away from her, causing her to whine until he replaced it with a toy. “If you want to suck on something, suck on your own fingers."

All of a sudden the Razor Crest was jolted out of hyperspace and was floating slowly through space. Din sighed. Totally not worth the 1,000 credits. He cradled Mandi in his arms while he got out of his seat. He took a small panel off the wall behind the ladder and, when shining his light, could see wires smoking at the very back of the small space.

“Y/N!” He called. He heard her footsteps on the hull and looked down to his right, seeing her at the bottom of the ladder. “Could you bring the kid up here please?” She nodded and scurried away, coming back with the kid in her arms, cooing and inquisitive. “Come up here, I need your help too,” he said. She clumsily made her way up the ladder. “Ok you take her,” Din swapped Mandi for his little womp rat, “I need his help with this.”

He instructed her on what switches and buttons to press and when as his little one clambered into the hole. Y/N watched with a questioning gaze as Din attempted to instruct his son on how to fix the electrical problem. After watching with an amused expression, she turned the pilot’s chair around to face the controls in order to do some troubleshooting of her own. Her concern spiked when she heard and smelled wires burning. She whipped the chair around and saw smoke billowing out of the hole. Din sighed and she knelt down next to him, clunking her head against his helmet as she looked into the hole to make sure that the child was ok.

The little green kiddo coughed once and looked back at both of them, appearing to be just a little shook up. “You okay?” Din asked, the child whining adorably in response. Y/N sighed in relief, her shoulders sagging as she let the tension seep out of her muscles. She and Din turned to look at each other, only now realizing that they were only inches apart.

Din sucked in a breath as he took in the details of her face. She smiled warmly at him, unbothered by how close they were. There was something so intimate about being this close to one another, even though he had his helmet on. The way she looked at him made him feel like she could see into the deepest parts of his soul, like she could see him through the helmet. There was no judgement or rejection in her eyes, only welcoming love and peace. He wanted to beg her to share it with him, to reach into her soul and take out some of the light and innocence and fill himself with it.

She lifted her hand up, just holding it there for a moment before slowly reaching towards him. Towards his helmet. He didn’t stop her, he didn’t want to. Why did he feel like this? Her fingertips grazed the beskar where his cheek would be, simply feeling the metal against her skin. Her smile widened and she drew her hand away. She was merely curious. It brought back memories, one specifically from his time on Sorgan. Omera. He remembered her, how she had wanted him to stay and tried to remove his helmet. He hadn’t let her, he’d wanted to at the time, but at the last minute he stopped her. He was scared then, evidently he still was now. He knew he couldn’t stay with Omera then because of the kid, and he would’ve had to stay put.

With Y/N, she was going with him and would be for quite some time. He couldn’t escape his feelings this time, or find some way to run from them. Mandi had already captured his heart and now Y/N was too. It was dangerous and Din didn’t like the feeling of not being in control. He shook his head slightly, as if it would expel the emotions he was experiencing. The kid had crawled back to the opening and Din picked him up. “Can you pilot? I’m going down to get some food for me and him,” Din said quietly. She nodded with a smile, standing and taking her seat in the pilot’s chair. He stood and stared at the back of the chair, sighing and making his way down into the hull.

~~~~

“At least this landing was better than the previous two,” Din mused as he leaned against the back of the pilot’s chair. They had finally set down on Navarro. Just from here Din could see how much the city had changed. The market seemed bustling again and all the structures had been rebuilt, it was as if nothing had ever happened. “Let’s go,” he said. Din helped Y/N get Mandi into her chest wrap carrier and he held his child under his arm. Din pressed the ramp release button and it started opening, only to get stuck halfway and refuse to go down any further. He heard her chuckle behind him. And he walked forward, jumping off the end of the jammed ramp to be greeted by Greef Karga and Cara Dune.

“Looks like someone could use some repairs,” Karga remarked. Din greeted his friend with a solid handshake and otherwise silent friendly acknowledgement. Y/N hung back in the shadows at the opening of the ship while Din talked with his friends. She watched as the man and woman both greeted the child as well as his father, they must love the little one too. The thought made her smile, at least this Mandalorian had friends and he wasn’t alone. She found herself suddenly wondering why she cared so much, but it seemed as if she had cared the moment she saw him and his little one. When she first saw him walking into the cantina on Mos Eisley with a dozen and one items strung onto the arm of a speeder bike that he carried on his back.

She watched as the older man called to a couple of mechanics near the city gate before fondly plucking the child from Mando’s grip and talking to him. She smiled and giggled, finding the man’s treatment of the child alike to that of a fun loving uncle. Apparently her presence hadn’t gone completely unnoticed as the man quirked an eyebrow in her direction. “And who might you be?” He asked loud enough for her to hear. She shrunk down a bit, shy. Din turned around and saw Y/N standing in the shadows. “It’s alright, you can come out,” he gently encouraged. She walked to the end of the ramp and sat down, Din reached up and grabbed her legs. She scooted off the edge and into Din’s arms, letting him set her feet on the ground gently.

He put an arm around her back and led her towards Greef and Cara. “This is Y/N,” he introduced. She smiled and waved at them. “Hello, young lady. You been keeping Mando company on his trips?” Karga teased. Y/N smirked and signed ‘a little bit’, Greef looked confused for a second. “She’s mute,” Din explained. Greef nodded in understanding and motioned towards the town. “Come on, I've got a few things to show you,” he said. Before they went anywhere he noticed Mandi, awake and squirming in her carrier. “You’ve got another little one. One wasn’t enough, huh Mando?” He joked. Din tensed a bit but saw how relaxed and happy Y/N looked. Greef turned and started walking into town with Y/N right beside him while Din and Cara trailed a few feet behind.

Cara shot him a knowing glance as they started walking, Din could hear Karga cooing over both children from a few feet in front of them. “Clearly a lot has changed since we last saw you,” Cara said, “a woman, another kid, never pegged you for the family man type.” Din blushed under his helmet, he hadn’t expected people to assume that Mandi was his and Y/N’s child. He was embarrassed but at the same time there was a spark of pride. That he had a woman and two children to protect and care for, it made him feel special. He cursed himself for thinking such things and drove the thought from his mind. “Mandi isn’t mine,” he said. Cara gave him a confused look. “It’s a long story.”

They continued to talk about the bustling town and what improvements had been made to it, how his ship was damaged, and the state of the outer rim. Karga brought them to a stop outside of the old cantina that had been nearly demolished the last time he saw it. They all went inside and Din was pleasantly surprised by what he saw. “A school?” Cara smiled proudly. “Things have changed a lot around here,” she said. Din saw Y/N standing between his friends looking around in awe. “We’re gonna leave the little one here so we can talk business,” Greef said. “Wait, wherever I go, he goes,” Din insisted. Y/N crossed in front of Cara and put her hand on Din’s pauldron. She began signing to him.

I will stay here and keep eyes on both the kids. You go take care of whatever you need to.

Din sighed nervously but he trusted her, her kind smile relaxed him. She gently squeezed his arm reassuringly as Greef set his little one down at one of the desks. Y/N sat down on the stairs at the back of the room and observed the setting before her, taking Mandi out of her wrap and holding her against her chest. “C’mon,” Greef ushered as he and Cara exited. Din lingered for a moment, looking at his child and then at Y/N and Mandi before finally following his friends.

“Seems a lot has changed for you, Mando,” Greef remarked as they walked to his office, “you’ve got yourself a wife and child now, can’t say I expected that from you.” Din blushed again, worse than last time. Thank the Maker for this helmet. He sighed, “she’s not my wife, and Mandi isn’t my baby.” Greef too looked confused and Din figured he had to clear things up. “I hired her to help take care of the kid. She’s also a mechanic and a pilot,” he explained. “Ah, well here we are,” Greef said as they entered his office building. Whatever they needed his help with Din hoped it wouldn’t take long.

~~~~

The mission they needed his help for was much bigger than he thought, which he should’ve seen coming. First they discovered there were more troops than they thought, then it was the fact that the base was fully functional, issues just kept piling on top of each other. They had gotten the main object of the mission over with, that was the easy part, now they had to get out alive. Then they found the room.

At first Din had no idea what he was looking at. What looked like some sort of freakish, alien experiments were encased in tanks with a mysterious blue fluid. It looked like the Imperials were trying to create something, some kind of monster. Din didn’t like it, it made him feel uneasy and he couldn’t shake the feeling that they, as well as Y/N and the children, were in danger.

Listening to that hologram made his blood run cold. For the small amount of time that the Imperials had the child, Maker knows what they might have done. It sounded like they had used his blood to create the horrifying creatures in the tanks, but that couldn’t be, could it? The hologram ended and Din could’ve swore his heart skipped a beat. He didn’t want to believe it. No, Gideon couldn’t be alive, the hologram must be old and it was just sent again recently or it was a duplicate or faked. Even with all the excuses Din tried to come up with for his own mind to believe, deep down he knew it was true. The child was still in grave danger, so was he, and now so was Y/N and Mandi.

He needed to get back to them, they didn’t know they were in danger. He couldn’t let anything happen to them.

~~~~

Y/N sat on the stairs watching the children learn and making sure the child was behaving himself. She had stayed there for a while after Mando had left, she knew it was safe and left for a little bit to buy a few things. She had used up the last of her own money buying food, water, a few tools, and a new set of bottles for Mandi, since her last ones were left on Nexlar. Fortunately, the prices on Navarro were much lower than on Nexlar and after getting the essentials she had enough credits leftover to purchase a small blaster for herself. It wasn’t anything special, a simple DT-22 pistol that happened to have a detachable ascension cable with it.

She was happy with her purchases and everything was in the shoulder bag she had on. She played with Mandi, trying not to make too much noise and distract the other kids from their school work. Everything was going well until Mando burst through the door. She immediately stood and held Mandi close to her, his urgency concerned her. “Are you alright?” He asked. She nodded. “Where’s the kid?” She pointed to the desk where he was still sitting and eating the cookies he stole, content with his mischief.

“We need to go,” Din said. He marched over and scooped the kid and his snacks up into his arms. Y/N tucked Mandi back into her carrier and made sure she had everything she bought.

What’s going on?

“We could be in danger, we’re all getting back to the Crest. Now,” his voice was stern and she knew this was serious. Din tucked the child into his arm, the other he put around Y/N and led her through the city back to the Crest. The two mechanics had just finished with the repairs as the pair walked up the ramp, Y/N pressing the button to close it behind her. Din placed his child in her arms as he climbed up into the cockpit. “I need you all up here and buckled in, this could take some fancy flying,” he called out. Y/N was able to climb the ladder with Mandi strapped to her chest and the other in one arm. She strapped his son into one of the passenger seats before buckling herself into the other one.

Din powered up the ship, it started as good as new. They lifted off and the sound of TIE fighters could be heard getting louder. Y/N clutched Mandi to her chest as Din flew faster. He saw three fighters after the vehicle that he assumed held the rest of his comrades and took off after them, singling out the middle one and shooting it down with precise accuracy. The other two split off in separate directions and he chased the one on the right, ascending straight up after it. They were all forced firmly back in their seats as the Crest climbed higher and higher. The Razor Crest was faster than the TIE fighter and easily caught up, putting it directly in Din’s line of fire. He pulled the trigger and the fighter exploded with a few shots.

He maneuvered around the shrapnel and spun the Crest around, stilling it in the air with its front facing the ground. He saw the last TIE fighter heading straight for him, he flung the power lever forwards and the ship dove right for the oncoming ship. He turned both handles sharply left, sending the ship spinning into several rolls. He could hear the kid giggling from over his shoulder. While Y/N had Mandi held tight to her chest, covering her eyes while she held her own shut. Even with the Crest locked onto, the Imperial pilot still couldn’t hit them. Din pulled the trigger again, hitting his target with only a few missed shots.

The Crest descended from the clouds, victorious. Din slowly let the tension seep from his muscles and he looked over his left shoulder, Y/N had opened her eyes and was now breathing normally again, a relieved smile on her face. “Not bad, huh?” He smiled under his helmet. She chuckled and shook her head, just glad it was over. Din looked over his other shoulder to see his own child. “Right, kid?” His little one looked more green than usual and before Din could figure out why, the child vomited up the blue remains of the cookies he had been eating. “Oh boy..”

Y/N noticed and rummaged about in her pockets for something to clean him up with. Meanwhile Din opened his frequency and Karga’s voice came over his comm system, applauding his flying techniques. Y/N hadn’t found the spare cloth she kept on her to clean Mandi up and before she could do anything else, Din was reaching back and cleaning the kid up with the bottom of his cloak. She looked at him in mild disbelief while he cleaned the kid, and his clothes, off while talking to Karga and flying all at once. He refused Greef’s offer and knew he had to continue on to Corvus without stopping, or else the Imperials might catch up.

As soon as they were steady in space, Y/N unbuckled herself and the kid, inspecting his soiled clothing. She shook her head affectionately and held him on her hip, also noticing the damp and slightly blue stain on the bottom of Mando’s cloak. She smiled, she’d have to clean up both of the boys. She tapped Mando on his arm.

I’m going to get him cleaned up.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.” Y/N climbed down, setting his child on the floor for a moment while she got Mandi situated. She placed her safely on a blanket on the floor, surrounded by a few toys so she wouldn’t get bored while her mother was taking care of the other child. Y/N got some water in a small cup and sat down near Mandi, putting the other kid comfortably in her lap and letting him drink the water to get rid of the undoubtedly nasty taste in his mouth. She grabbed a clean cloth and applied a small amount of cleaning solution to it, getting to work on cleaning the spot on his little coat.

Din set the course for Corvus and climbed down into the hull, seeing Y/N cleaning his son’s coat and face while Mandi wiggled happily on the blanket next to her. He walked over and sat on the other side of Mandi, sweeping his cloak out of the way so he didn’t sit on it. At one point his little one cooed and reached out towards her face, she nuzzled his forehead with her nose, smiling as the child giggled. He whined still and reached towards Mandi, Y/N picked up a toy Mandi wasn’t playing with and handed it to him. It kept him occupied while she finished cleaning his coat.

Din played with Mandi until Y/N set his little one down next to her. He waddled closer to Mandi and reached out to touch her arm. “Be gentle,” Din told him. The child looked up at his dad then back at Mandi, reaching for her again. To their surprise Mandi also reached out towards him, the children’s hands found each other and they awkwardly held hands. Din looked up at Y/N who also looked at him, an amazed look on her face. Mandi seemed to calm down and his little one cooed at her.

What are they doing?

“I don’t know,” Din answered. “Maybe they know they have the same powers.” It had sounded better in his head, when he said it out loud it sounded ridiculous. She nodded, considering the possibility. Din leaned over them, playing with them both with the toys laying around. Mandi whined and her little face scrunched up, Din picked her up and held her, trying to figure out what was wrong. He felt a tap on his elbow.

She’s probably tired, been awake all day.

Din nodded and noticed that Y/N had the end of his cloak in her hand and was cleaning it the same way she had done with the child’s clothes. “What are you doing?” She looked up with an amused expression.

Cleaning your cloak, what does it look like?

She smiled and giggled, clearly joking with him. “It’s always dirty, you don’t have to clean it,” he told her. She shrugged and continued.

I want to.

Was her reply. Din found it strange almost, why would she want to clean his cloak all of a sudden? Unless it was that she enjoyed looking after people and she simply wanted to take care of him too. It didn’t matter, Din sat and watched the kids until she was done cleaning the spot off his cloak. “I’ll pilot first while you rest, then we switch?” He suggested. She nodded and took the kids to get them situated. Din climbed into the cockpit and engaged the hyperdrive. Heading off towards Corvus and their next adventure.

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #frozen series #star wars fanfiction

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nyanbinary-chatnoir · 5 years ago

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MLB Holiday Month - Ornaments

Day 4 Prompt - Read on AO3

Characters: Adrien (& Plagg)

Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 /

Adrien had his gifts for his friends halfway completed. He was currently working on Nino's, Alya's, Marinette's, and Ladybugs. In the morning he had completed his classmates. Including Chloe's. This year he decided to make everyone's gift. So he went with ornament making. Adrien had looked up several tutorials on ornament making. Going with the more simpler, which for him is clay.

He molded and crafted the ornaments in the shapes he wanted. Hoping his classmates would like their gifts.

In the meantime, while he let the other's cool and dry with their paint. Adrien had the four leftover ornaments heating in the oven. Checking on them every minute, making sure they didn't start to crack. While Adrien wasn't going for perfection, he did want to make sure they were decent and could be used for years.

Checking on the ones in the over he smiled happily when he deemed them done. Adrien grabbed oven mitts, slipping them on his hands. Taking the tray of ornaments from the oven he placed it on the stove, turning it off. With gentle pokes, he scooted them from their original place. Turning them around, checking for any cracks.

While he poked Nino's ornament Plagg flew into the kitchen, yawning with a tiny pawn.

He paused on Adrien's shoulder. “Still working on those things??”

“I want to be able to give them to my friends in time before the holidays.” Adrien smiled. Carrying the tray back to his work counter.

“Cheese is a wonderful and simple gift.”

“You think cheese is the solution to everything, Plagg.”

“Because it is,” Plagg said. “You just haven't learned or come to understand cheese beauty.” He poked Adrien's cheek.

“I don't think anyone, including, would know what to do with cheese.”

“Eat it of course.”

“Not everyone enjoys smelly cheese as you do,” Adrien commented. He grabbed a paintbrush, dipping its black paint, painting Nino's headphone ornament with extreme care. Getting some paint on his fingers, but he didn't seem to care or mind.

The plan is to paint it black, adding in some gray, and green details. Of course, knowing how much Nino loves music. But he also knew his friend was a big fan of Chat Noir. Adrien figured he could paint a little green cat print on one of the sides.

“A travesty at it's finest. This world needs to embrace the love of cheese more.” Plagg's eye's following Adrien's movement. He had been napping for the third time that day. Taking a second nap when Adrien began his other ornaments in the afternoon.

Adrien placed Nino's ornament down, he grabbed a towel wiping his hands off.

“Speaking of cheese,” Adrien said. Stepping back towards the completed ornaments he grabbed one in particular. “It's a little early to be gifting this but I think you would like it.”

He helped up a cheese ornament. It was tiny. Shaped like camembert. Or it was Plagg's assumption of its odd shape.

No Plagg wasn't tearing up he just yawned. “Is, is it for me??”

“Of course it's for you silly.” Adrien held it up, Plagg took it. He held it close to him.

“Thank you, Adrien.” Quickly flying to give Adrien a quick kiss on his cheek before floating away, still holding onto his cheese ornament. Plagg hugged it close as he lay down on a pillow. Curled up around it for his fourth nap.

Stunned for a moment Adrien stared where Plagg took off, while Plagg wasn't too touchy-feely. Adrien received hugs and gave pats and scratches to Plagg.

“You're welcome, Plagg.” Happy Plagg seemed to like, scratch that, love his gift, Adrien set back to work.

Within 20 minutes he had Nino's and Alya's ornaments painted and finished. Alya's was a camera. Or so Adrien tried to make it a camera. He was proud of it nonetheless.

The final two were left, Marinette's and Ladybug.

For the longest time, Adrien struggled with decided on the ornament to make them. He needed them to be special.

He eventually settled on an umbrella for Marinette. A pink one. Adrien's hopes for this were to also add on Marinette's signature to the umbrella. As he had seen on her purse and backpack. Adding white details along with.

For Ladybug's, extreme difficult came with this ornament. She was his partner, friend, teammate, love of his life, and someone who had become of the utmost importance to him. His original thought for a red rose but scrapped it. He sat on his bed writing down possible ideas but not one ever caught his attention.

Until one idea came to mind. Adrien had worried he wouldn't be able to pull it off but his mind was set.

He wanted to make a heart, one that if you have the two pieces they fit together like a puzzle. One side being Chat Noir themed. The other part being Ladybug themed. Having the words “you and I against the world” painted on them. Ladybug would take the chat noir themed heart, and Adrien would keep the ladybug themed.

The idea seemed cheesy, ha! Cheese.

Adrien was proud of his ideas and hard work.

Within an hour he had both final ornaments completed. And a half-hour of cleaning up before Gorilla would be showing up. Paint stained his fingers and clothes, thankful he chose to wear old ratted clothing to work in.

Allowing them to dry Adrien began washing and scrubbing his hands to rinse off his paint mess. Humming softly to himself. Wash his hands, clean up kitchen area, move ornaments to continue to dry, should he tempt to try and get dinner going? Some days Gorilla had ingredients and everything needed to start before he left for work, and Adrien to get started on when he returned home. Typical stuff Adrien could easily cook or begin.

Drying his hands off Adrien began putting lids back on, setting the paintbrushes in the sink. Oh yeah, he would need to rinse those too.

He was halfway done when Plagg landed on his head. “Finished now?”

Adrien laughed. “Yes, Plagg. After I'm done the cleaning I will get you some cheese.”

“I am starving.”

“Oh, how surprising, you poor thing” Adrien teased. He felt a soft bop at the top of his head. Grinning he reached with one hand to scratch Plagg's ear. The other hand washing the counters.

Ornaments caught Plagg's attention and he plopped down to check them all. Pride rose in Plagg's chest. Adrien had done this all by himself, put his heart and soul into them. If anybody said anything they would be meeting his cataclysm. No way would he allow anyone to laugh or scorn at Adrien's hard work.

Wait a second.

“Hey, Adrien?”

Adrien who was pulling out ingredients for dinner, replied, “Yeah?” He placed the vegetables on the cutting board.

“Aren't there supposed to be, like, things on the ornaments to hang them up?”

Plagg heard his chosen pausing. His words thinking.

Letting a groan Adrien thumped his head against their fridge. A feeling rose up during times where he had the ornaments in the oven. Now he knew.

Hopefully, his friends would still like them.

– And he was wrong.

They all LOVED his ornaments.

#miraculous ladybug #mlholidays2k19 #adrien agreste #plagg #my fic: just hear those bells

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marie-lamb-b · 5 years ago

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The Ink DeMonth. Day 9: Favorite Ship.

No one should ever croos paths with an angry, frustrated, livid Music Director. Guess say Wally was just unfortunate…

Well, kinda pretty late ^^U

I still can’t say is my fave/fave ship, but is the only one I’ve been able to think about the last month and a half, so I guess they’re just growing on me~

And sorry, I got carried away. This thing has over 8.4K words and I honestly didn’t expect this to be so long Dx

But if you still are willing to take a look, enjoy it!! ^3^

(Trigger Warnings: Foul language, Verbal humiliation, Implied homophobia)

Day of rage

This was a bad day. Bad, bad, in every single sense. Bad sleeping, bad morning, bad breakfast, bad trip to work. Bad, annoying, frustrating. Everything. Was. Bad.

Being usually moody and gruff was one thing; being faced to a severe writing block and frustrated all over every single note he put on paper was way another level of anger. And it was better for anyone in the studio to stay away from him, as his mood was so tense that he was even able to tell the president himself to go fuck himself.

If only Wally didn’t disturb him…

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, FRANKS. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH A MORON!” The oh, so unfair scolding could be heard from the music department hall. “You can’t even do 1 single fucking thing right!” Norman flinched as he walked off the infirmary, Jack hiding behind him. “But no, of course you can’t. why would I have thought you could?!” Even the window from his office trembled with how loud the frustrated musician was being.

“Mr. Lawrence, I’m sorry. I just–”

“I DON’T WAN’T ANY OF YOUR EXCUSES, KID!” He cut him off, not wanting to hear anything from the poor janitor about whatever fault he had committed. “Now I want you to stop meddling here around and GO TO DO YOUR FUCKING JOB!” He sentenced with a rage fist smashing against his own desk, making it shake and sending down to the floor a pile of sheets and paperwork precariously balanced; right were the janitor’s mop and dirty water was laying.

The fall was as in slow motion for the wide eyes of the young man, and he acted quickly in hopes of saving the musician’s hard work. Albeit for his misfortune, the sole idea he concreted to successfully save the fluttering sheets was to kick away the bucked and mop, causing quite a mess at the other side of the man’s office.

For a second, he could have felt pretty pride for his quick action in such a desperate moment. But the musician did not allow such instance, as he was the closest to literally fuming out of rage over the janitor’s reaction.

This day started bad, and was about to get worse for the younger man.

“THE FUCK HAVE YOU JUST DONE!” Sammy shrieked, and Wally flinched.

“Mi– mi– mister Lawrence, I– I…” He stumbled on his words as he dropped in the floor, picking up clumsily the papers the other man just threw with his rage.

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR A SINGLE SHIT FROM YOU!” His voice thundered, and Wally froze in the spot. “Get. Out. Of my office.” He hissed rather menacingly.

“Bu– But Mr. Lawrence, I have ta clean up tha–!”

“GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!” He sentenced violently, and Wally stared with panicked eyes. “I don’t want to see your goddamn face! Ever!”

And just like that, every bit of air escaped of the janitor’s lungs as if he was knocked. He felt his eyes starting to sting, and for a much sharp hearing, even could be perceived how his heart just broke.

Numb, in attempt to hide the pain the man’s rage caused over him, Wally simply stood up, leaving the papers he got to pick up on the desk, tilting his cap as to hide his stare in its shadow, and turning around towards the door, reaching for his mop and bucket in the process.

“Understood, Mr. Lawrence.” He said low and quietly as he left, leaving the enraged man panting with his glare lock on him even through the window, as if making sure the janitor won’t ruin anything in his departure.

Once he was absolutely out of sight, Sammy paced by his office, only to slip on the soapy water of the damn bucket that stupid boy left unattended, falling back and hitting his head hard. He let out a painful grunt; he should have let the boy to clean up before kicking out the poor janitor…

*-*-*-*-*

“What’s wrong with Wally?”

“I have no clue at all…”

“Didn’t you hear all that shouting from Sammy’s office?”

“You should never cross path with that man when he’s in such bad mood.”

“That guy is the front-man of any anger campaign.”

“Wally didn’t deserve such treat. He was just doing his job!”

“Well, what could be done? He was just the one being there to receive the blow. Wrong time and wrong place, I guess…”

“Wait, did Sammy hit the boy?!”

“Don’t take my words out of context!”

“Whatever happened, it doesn’t matter now. It’s not like any could fix what’s already done…”

*-*-*-*-*

The word spread easily around the studio, and soon pretty much everyone –except those too busy to get out and chat– knew about the raging music director and the poor janitor that was there to serve as punching-sack for the former.

But even if they all wanted to catch in the last of the studio’s savory rumor, no one really expressed real, earnest concern, as the young man, listening to all of their bickering, trying to asking him something about further details, wouldn’t mind them. He just passed by, complying with his duties, and left with no more than a couple of courtesy words. No one really cared, as no one really knew how deep this was really affecting the janitor, except for Norman.

The taller man made his way towards Sammy’s office, easy going. Any other rage day he would just avoid the man, not willing to be involved in unnecessary quarrels, but the heartless way he treated the young janitor actually made him set up his mind. Not like he was up for a senseless fight with that man, after all, that’s right what he pretended to callback into that man: sense.

Reaching the musician’s door, he knocked to make his presence noted. “Hey, Sammy. How you doin’?” Only a muttered growl he received as answer; obviously wasn’t the right question to ask, but he couldn’t care less. His sight wandered to the office’s surroundings, and he locked his stare in the wet spot that took over the entrance zone of the room. “Mind to explain why’s wet all the place?”

“Because that stupid kid kicked his bucket there.” Sammy grumbled. Now that Norman was seeing clearly he could notice the man’s back was pretty much soaked. Definitively wasn’t going to touch that topic.

“Why would he do so?” He inquired again, earning a soft growl easily compared to a dog which food was taken off its muzzle. “Sorry to tell I didn’ get a word of you say.”

“I SAID,” He rose his voice, quite loudly. “How would I know how that moron’s head does work? He just did it.” He stated dryly, though Norman knew better, and a slight wobble in his tone was one of hiding things.

“…Yeah, sure, because he loves make you angry and get in your bad side.” He retorted, waiting for another of the same tone from Sammy but only silence lingered, leaving space for him to insist. “Seriously, why did so?”

“…because some sheets of mine almost fell over the bucket…” He admitted, his voice lowered.

“Almost?”

“Ok. They FELL over the bucket. He kicked it out of the way.” And slouched over his desk.

An appreciative hum, and Norman kept inquiring. “Why did ‘em fell?”

Silence; shoulders hunched, almost as if trying to turn as tiny as he could.

“Sammy…”

“I DROP THEM! Happy?” He finally turned to face the projectionist, red face but at this point could be said it was more over shame than rage. He was panting, trying to keep his rage façade, but Norman only shook his head in disapproval.

“And even though you called out on the boy as if he really was just horsin’ around only to piss you off.” And Sammy turned back over his desk, gripping his hair in frustration but struggling to not voice it out loud. He heard Norman clicking his tongue in reprehension before leaving. “That boy don’ deserves you…”

Sammy’s head shot up at the phrase, but when he turned to ask the projectionist what he meant the man already left; actually, already was half way the hall near the organist room, never turning back and holding his hands behind.

What did he just say? What did that even mean?! Ugh, that only made him feel confused and that turned only in more anger. Just perfect, now he won’t be able to focus in his already useless task.

*-*-*-*-*

No. Wrong. Trash. Piece of shit! Nothing came out right! At this point not even the sheets Wally rescued for him were useful anymore, as now they were part of a steadily growing pile of crumbled rejects all over the floor.

So now he just was there, head against the desk, swallowing back every urge to shout out loud even the deepest of the growls. Vain attempts that were interrupted by the delicate sound of the squeaking hinges of his door. He peeked over his shoulder and started to shot daggers to the unwelcomed visitor.

“So– so– sorry, Mr. Lawrence, but I can’t find–…” Wally stammered, feeling the scorching glare of the man as if was carving holes through his skull. He still wasn’t forgiven… “Ah… Nevermind, Mr. Lawrence. I’ll just look somewhere else. Sorry fer interrupting ya…” And with no more fanfare than a soft mournful murmur, he left.

The door closed softly and the steps of the janitor marching away were quiet. Sammy just watched him through his window, reaching to see the young man meeting with the projectionist at the end of the hallway. Some words were exchanged; a sag on the younger’s shoulders, lying his head on the elder’s chest, to finally be held on a side hug and be leaded out of sight by the taller man.

And as he watched, Norman’s words resonated in his mind again, turning him again thoughtful, for it to be turned in confusion, to it to be turned in anger again.

He had no time for such senseless shit.

He got back over his desk, rather abrupt must say, and he tumbled his empty mug down the table. Lucky him, it fell on the trashcan where a pile of discarded sheets lied. He lunged to pick it up, but a clinking sound caught his attention.

Wally’s keys…

*-*-*-*-*

Ugh, this was pointless! What a waste of precious time, and still can’t go and get a single. Fucking. Note written down. How could be so hard deciding between a F sharp and a G flat?

Worst of all, his head was starting to pound heavily. He really needed a coffee.

He straightened up in his chair, ready to call the janitor as he usually prepared his coffee around the noon (what kind of services did Joey put him on charge, he still didn’t understand). But he froze as he recalled the events of the day. Could he call him to ask him his usual just like that? And think on the matter felt like a punch to his pride, but something else clenched in his chest.

Deliberating, he almost made up his mind: if he wanted a coffee, he’ll need to go to the break room, meaning he’ll need to get out of his office… and that’s just aside of all those chit-chattering employees that always liked to meddle their noses in whatever wasn’t their business. Ah, he wasn’t in the mood to tolerate any of that. But in the other hand, if he didn’t he wouldn’t get his coffee, and gosh, he really needed it…!

…

Well, he better got through those bothering pests just for a while; luckily everyone noticing his mood there won’t be a soul who’d dare to do more than step out of his way.

And so he stood up, and reluctantly he abandoned his office.

*-*-*-*-*

“C’mon, Wally. We can’t help you if you don’t tell what’s happening!”

“Nothing’s happenin’, Ms. Campbell.” Wally answered quite monotonous. “Ya don’ need to worry yerself, but thanks for tha concern.” His smile was polite but notoriously strained.

He was cleaning the tables from the breakroom. It was soon to be noon and with it comes the lunch break and he was commanded to clean it all up before and after lunch there.

“But surely there’s something I could help, ain’t it?”

“I appreciate yer offerin’ but fer real. I just havetta end cleaning this up–…”

Everything went silent when the door squeaked open, and whoever was there doing whatever just froze at the sight of the music director. He stood up there, feeling their fearful but scrutiny stares, and he scorned in response, descending the flight of stairs.

“I– ah…” Wally stammered, but released a sigh. “I finished cleanin’. I’m outta here…”

Tilting his cap down once again, he picked up his cleaning tools and left the room rather quickly, nearly tripping over the musician but avoiding him at a safe distance in the end.

Sammy just looked at him, although too tired for glares this time. Shrugging it off, he made his way to get some coffee, being joined by Susie in the process.

“Rough day, eh Sammy?” She teased a little, but he just huffed. “Why don’t you stay and have lunch with us? It’ll help your soul! …You do have a soul, don’t you Lawrence?”

Although the musician was on the verge of fuming, he just limited to heavily sigh by his nostrils and turn to her with the most constricted face he could muster.

“My soul is pretty much contented with just coffee, thank you very much.” He turned and started to look around the counter. “Ugh, where is the cream? Isn’t there anything in this god dammed place?”

“What are you talking about?” She questioned as started to stab the jar of clustered sugar with her spoon. “With how cheap Joey is, we are pretty lucky to have sugar here! Although I’d like the guys stop to using their wet spoons when taking it. Gosh, this is so hard!” She hissed as she kept stabbing the jar, and when a few grains got stick to her spoon, she took it in her mouth and then kept stabbing. All under the watchful presence of the horrified music director.

Besides the display of shameless ill-mannered Susie, he couldn’t help the train of thoughts that flooded his mind. Wally always prepared his coffee with cream and two sugar cubes… Sure, the first time he told him as a joke that’s the way he drank his coffee, but he always made his cup that way since. How could he, if they barely had that watery coffee with taste of socks and that jar of stone they pitifully called sugar grains?

Susie stopped, seeing him frozen in spot, seemingly staring at the jar she held in her hands.

“You want some?” She offered and that seemed to take him off his thoughts, as he looked at her, then the jar, and then he shook his head with disgust and a new gruff.

“Forget it. I’ll just have it black.”

And after preparing it, he left.

*-*-*-*-*

Definitively didn’t worth it, that beverage tasted as bad as he thought: as sweat soaked socks. How he could recognize such flavor, better now question it too deeply, as it only made his already insufferable headache to worsen.

The only thing in his mind was to return to the comfort of his messy and littered and wet office as soon as he could. But when he was about to turn the corner leading to his office’s hallway, he couldn’t help but hear a distressed sob.

Curiosity poked and he stopped his pace; the mopping came from the recording room. He stood on the inner threshold, he could hear it, but no one was there. At least not that he could see.

“Why do I even keep tryin’? He hates me!” Was that Wally?

“No, he don’. You just found ‘im in the worst moment possible, that’s all kid.” Oh, so they were at Norman’s booth.

Sammy stayed close to the threshold, out of sight. What were they talking about?

“No, Mr. Polk. It’s not tha first time. Today was tha worst but…”

“Kid, with all honesty, he treats everyone like trash. It’s not somethin’ against you, I’m sure of that.”

Were they talking about him?

“But… but all I ‘ave done for ‘im? I just– keep tryin’ and tryin’ but I’m no more than a fly on tha wall for ‘im!”

“You know how oblivious he’s. An elephant could be dancin’ tap right next to ‘im and he wouldn’t notice! And if he do, prob’ly he would just shot daggers thru his eyes before even question why there’s an elephant in his office.”

Ok, he wasn’t that oblivious, although he’d never been in such situations to argue back. At least that last joke did make the young janitor to release a chuckle, albeit weak.

“Heh, yer probably right…” Silence, barely his hiccupping sobs could be heard. “I’m not like an elephant, do I?” He sounded fearful.

“Neh, you’re not. First place you’d need a trunk sticking outta your face!”

“Mr. Polk, ya know what I mean…!” Barely above a whisper, it was hard for Sammy to catch what he said; not impossible, just hard. But a tight silence followed that statement.

“…No, kid. You’re not…”

Knowing Norman’s personality only fluctuated between a bad timing jokester, easy-going, severe paternalist or straightly intimidating, it was strange to find him being so comprehensive and supporting– at least by what he could take by his soft and quiet voice.

He stood a little longer in there, but the only thing that broke the silence was the hiccupping sobs of the janitor. Sobs that were product of a distressed boy– man, that only was doing his job and had a little accident that actually was the musician’s crew fault!

Did he really shout that bad to him? By the time he already forgot what he said to the poor janitor. Was that bad? Was he so out of his mind to made him believe he hated him?

I don’t want to see your goddamn face! Ever!

Oh, gosh… did he really said that?! No surprise he believed Sammy hated him. And Wally also said about things he tried before, what did he mean? What else had he tried?

Wait…

Why was he thinking all of this? Goddammit, Sammy. It’s not like it mattered!

But then why he felt his chest so clenched and his throat so tight?

Everything was so confusing and annoying!

Just annoying…

He gave a last glance to where the booth was located, and with a sigh and soft steps, he made his way back to his littered, soaked, messy office with a cold cup of watered, tasteless, sock-flavored drink that couldn’t even be called coff–

Between what he expected from what he remembered, what he found could be called having got into another dimension, one of tidiness, organization, even bright dimension. Every sheet of paper he discarded was taken away, and a new pile of blank sheets lied on his desk. There was no more a wet spot, but a spotless, clean and shiny floor. Even the keys he found earlier in the trash can were no longer there, taken. But what baffled the musician more was the steaming mug just in the middle of his desk; the cream still as a lump atop, slowly sinking in the beverage, and two bright sugar cubes aside, ready to be dropped in the hot drink.

Glancing between that mug and the one he brought from the break room, he slowly approached to his desk, taking seat and leaving the later next to the other. He dipped his pinkie in the steaming one; hot indeed, but the cream made it smooth. And the sugar… the only sugar the rest of the studio crew could get in here was from that clustered jar, so how was that he could have pristine sugar cubes? Or more like, if Wally was the one making it, how was that he had those…?

The brightly clean office, the new stack of paper, the steaming coffee…

He still made all of these things even when he believed Sammy hated him…

He shouted at him, he mocked of him, treated him like he was an idiot, an illiterate child, as if he was too dumb to notice anything around him, like how the world worked, how people worked…

…or more like how Sammy worked…

He slouched in his desk, clasping his hair tight in his fingers as he let the steam hit his face.

Norman was right. Wally didn’t deserve him.

*-*-*-*-*

Can’t say it got easier along the day, although he could manage to not drop a piece until the entire sheet was useless scrap and that actually made the littered pile– now appropriately thrown in the can instead the floor– to be smaller in the last 6 hours of works versus all he threw away in just the first three.

By the time most of the studio members were already gone, the ones remaining were just busy with the last tasks of the day.

Regardless, what Sammy was currently doing hardly could be called a task, as he remained thoughtful for nearly two hours already. He tried to distract himself with the music, with his compositions, but no avail, and these thoughts lingered in his mind shouting to be noticed, and so he did.

At this point he couldn’t even give himself the privilege to feel angry, irritated and frustrated over those ideas that didn’t leave him alone, as he was worn down, too tired to try even, and so those ideas just settled in him.

Not like he was going to admit it anyways…

A knock on his door and a jerk from his side due the suddenness; Norman was there.

“Hey Sammy, work time’s over.”

There were so many things that Sammy could answer, from his usual sarcasm with something like ‘don’t you tell me’, to just flip off his middle to the man with not even bothering to turn around. But his rage storm had simply worn him down, and now he barely gave a mute shrug as an answer, sinking deeper on his desk.

Norman glanced around. He knew Wally took his chance to clean up this office while the music director was out, but he had never seen it lasting almost as pristine by the end of the day. There were still crumpled sheets on the trashcan, but curious was that it was actually used as trash can instead of littering the whole floor as he did in the morning. It almost seemed like he was being careful about the work of the janitor.

“Huh, this place looks neat!”

“What do you want, Norman?” He finally snapped.

“Just makin’ sure how you doin’. You had a really tough day after all.”

“Sure that’s all…” He muttered and laid his head on the desk flatly. “Nothing else you want to mom me about?” Alright, he opened the chance to drop it.

“You should go and apologize with Wally.”

And despite his weariness, he couldn’t help the grunt to form in his throat as he turned to the man.

“Why do you care so much about that? It’s not like if you were his dad!” And the way Norman shook his head, so filled with disappointment, actually hit him hard.

“I wish I would be. That kid really ‘ave had a tough time.”

“Yeah, sure, because is so hard to swift a broom from side to side.” He turned back, quite ashamed even if he wasn’t going to admit it. Such answers were the ones that most naturally came even if he didn’t mean it by the time.

“I can’t believe you still don’ get it.” Norman finally walked in, and that cornered feeling was dreadfully palpable, even if the musician still refused to look at him. “After all this time, with all the things he done for you…”

“Where do you want to get with this?”

He paused his march, right behind of him. His towering shape projected a shadow that lunged over his reduced figure in the chair.

“Sammy…” The man swallowed hard, feeling the sweat trickle down his forehead. Why he felt so nervous over the projectionist? “Sammy, stop it.”

“Stop what?” He said back, albeit his voice betraying his so called steadiness.

“Just stop bein’ such an oblivious idiot and look at Wally for the first time in your damn life! Can’t you see the boy is dyin’ for you?”

As if a rope tied to his chest tugged him forcefully, he felt the air in his lungs abandoning him for an agonizing moment, as he shot up and shoved away his chair to turn and face the man standing behind.

He… wasn’t as close as he thought, but that look so full of disapproval still burned him coldly.

“Wha– what… do you mean?”

“Really still? Haven’t you noticed how he usually like to spend more time here ‘round, despite he’s the sole janitor in this whole goddamn place? Or how he seems to smile widely at you?”

“That means anything, he’s always smi–”

“What about that coffee that he always make for you? I saw you goin’ to the break room, you can’t be so blind to not notice there’s no cream nor fancy sugar cubes up there.”

Sammy kept his mouth shut, barely could stand that accusatory stare from the man in front of him.

“What about the way he always shrug off every time you mock of him or yell at him, givin’ you a smile and respondin’ to everythin’ you ask ‘im to do?” Norman kept talking, and Sammy couldn’t help but glance aside, casually seeing the aforementioned janitor getting into the organ room, pipe-cleaner in hand and his cap still tilted down hiding his frown. Sammy felt his chest tight, the weight of shame barely bearable. “That kid’s no dumb as you think he is, but he’s still willin’ to do anythin’ as long as he could see you around. But to be honest, I could think he’s a fool myself for bein’ so invested in you.”

Sammy side-glanced the man in his office, trying his best to straighten up his face but was too constricted to look natural.

“Why… are you telling me all this?” He hesitated, but asked anyways.

“Becos I’ve seen the boy. All this infatuation thing has gone since quite a time, longer than I got to know, and the more time it pass, the more he drowns with no knowin’ if his efforts really worth the shot– or shots. So I tell you, so you now can go and ground his mind where it has to be. So go! Tell ‘im you’re not interested, shatter his heart, I don’ really care. But the less the kid deserves is a closure, and only you can give it to ‘im.”

With that final statement, Norman left his office, walking away and out of sight. And once he was sure he was all alone again, he allowed himself to sit back in his chair, askew for shoving it and conveniently looking to the hall, where the door that lead to the organ was kept ajar, where the man the projections was talking about just a moment ago was located.

He hunched, gripping his head on his hands as once again those thoughts about the young janitor flooded his mind. The so many times he called him idiot, moron, stupid, too immature to understand, that he was too childish with that smile always stuck on his face, how he couldn’t understand how people worked…

…seemed like all of this time he was the one that couldn’t understand it…

Was he really such a disgusting person?

Why even would Wally like him… after all he had done to the poor kid…?

*-*-*-*-*

Wally was cleaning up the pipes of the organ. It was the best he could do by now as he waited for the people to finally leave the studio– and maybe then he could go and enclose him in a forgotten room and cry out loud what he had been bottling up the entire day. At least he knew this task was quite demanding, polishing the pipes in and out, taking off every bit of dust and the pipes would look as bright as new. Yeah, this would keep him perfectly busy–

The hinges squeaked open to then the door be pulled shut, eating away every bit of light right before the lights up were turned on. Steps behind; someone was approaching.

“Wally…” Oh, great. Just when he thought he could last until he left at least…

“He– hello, Mr. Lawrence!” He weakly greeted, not daring to turn behind as his eyes were already stinging. “Do ya need somethin’ I could help?”

“Actually…” Swallow back your pride, Lawrence! “I needed to talk to you…”

“Oh…” He muttered so eloquently, as he lowered his arms and gripped on the edge of the massive instrument. “And what is it?” He didn’t dare to look at him.

“I–…” A bite of his own tongue, hindering his speech. “I… I just…” C’mon, only two miserable words! “Ah! I’m sorry, ok? I shouldn’t have treated you that way. It was unfair and the accident wasn’t even your fault, and you… don’t deserve the way I treat you. I’m… I’m sorry…”

Deep and slow breaths, Franks. Deep and slow. Don’t quiver.

“…Thanks, Mr. Lawrence. I… accept yer apologize…” He managed to say rather flatly. But he felt him, he was still there. How long would he be able to resist…!

“Aren’t you gonna say something else?”

Oh, God. What he meant?! Say what?

“I, ah… I’m… sorry, Mr. Lawrence. I shoulda been more careful with all them stands and I–”

“No, not that! I already said that wasn’t your fault!” He cut him off, and Wally felt cornered. What did he mean? “Really, nothing to say?” What did he want?! “Could you at least turn around?”

Wally felt his blood run cold. Face him?! He couldn’t do that too quickly or else he would burst with all the emotions he had kept inside. So he took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes with his forearm’s sleeve, and slowly, ever so slowly, he turned back, never releasing his grip on the edge of the organ.

Well, there he was, albeit cap still tilted and shadowing his face.

“Take off your hat, please.” The janitor whimpered, as he knew it wasn’t a request but an order. He took it off, revealing finally his distressed countenance. “Really you have nothing to tell me?”

“I– I– I, ah, I’m… Mr. Lawrence, am so– sorry, but I ‘ave no idea of what–”

“Norman told me.”

Wally shot wide open his eyes, panic crawling up from the bottom of his stomach. He felt it, as his heart skipped more beats than he could notice and the air abandoned his lungs as if he received the worst blow he could ever resist.

“So?” He started to walk, getting close to him.

“Mi– mister Lawrence, please! No– no need to fuzz about it. I– it– it’s not what ya think!” He tried to placate, but with every step closer the more cornered he was. “I– it’s nothin’, for real! Please, I promise I don’ bother ya anymore!” He was standing right in front of him, an arm away. And he couldn’t control any longer the tears prickling down his eyes and the whimpered high pitch of his voice. “I– I– I’ll stay away from ya, I promise! But please don’ tell Mr. Drew, I know I’m disgustin’ but please I don’ wanna lose this job! I’ll stay away, I promise! P– please don’ tell ‘em, don’ tell anybody! I won’ bother you anymore but please–…!”

“Wally.” Sammy cut his rant off as he grabbed his hand… gently… “Wally, stop it. I didn’t come for it so don’t need to worry about it. I came to know…” He lowered his stare, fixing it onto the hand he was holding. “…to know if that’s true…” He looked back at him, and though his prominent frown never abandoned him, Wally could tell, even with his racing mind, that those eyes never had looked so… soft, even concerned.

The silence stretched for a while, and though the musician showed an amount of patience he had never done before, those eyes, soft, sweet, concerned, frown eyes still begged for an answer. But the janitor’s eyes were drowned in tears and his throat was tightly closed, so the only response he could give was a whimpering nod.

Sammy sighed, and his look wandered to anything around before returning to the young man’s face.

“Why…?”

He swallowed heavily, but his mouth was too dry still. “I– ah, I swear I don’ know. If even I could make it work right, dunno, looking for Ms. Campbell instead, but I–”

“That’s not what I’m asking!” He said rather louder, and the janitor flinched whimpering. Sammy recoiled, lowering his volume. “I mean… why… me? I… I haven’t treated you with anything but despise, insulting you and even making mock of you…! Why then?”

“I don’ know… I don’ know, I swear! I just… saw you tha first time and though–… I thought ya were–… I just… wanted to make ya happy somehow, I don’ know! I just–…” tears upon tears, his cheeks were a constant waterfall. His mind was already racing and his heart beating painfully with fear; how could he articulate what he never understood in first place?

“Wally…” Sammy called him; the weight of guilt and shame was already lead in his stomach, and seeing him so distressed didn’t do any favors to him. “Wally, stop crying…”

“I can’t…” his voice wasn’t above a whisper. “I can’t…! I can’t, I’m scared…!”

“Of what?” Silence, only interrupted by the janitor’s whimpering. “Why are you scared?”

“Of ya knowin’…! Knowin’ tha truth and tell ‘em! Of them thinkin’ I’m a deviant, a mistake! That ya– that ya’ll really– really hate me for this!” His sobs were cutting his voice, hiccups between his words. “That ya beli– believe I’m a– a freak! That ya– ya hate me for re–e–al!”

He couldn’t help it anymore, and his cry just burst with the same shock of a little child lost and afraid. His hand holding his cap was so tight that almost hurt, and he fought to not grip the other man’s hand as hard or worse. His legs were wobbly, he just wanted to plump himself right there and recoil to a dark narrowed corner, to be left alone with his grief. But Sammy didn’t allow it, not with the way he was looking, nor with the way he held his hand, nor with the way he reached with his arm behind him and pulled him in a tight hug, releasing his hand to be able to engulf him, pulling Wally’s head onto his shoulder and muffling his sobs as he stroked his hand on his hair, and trying hard to keep together all of those pieces the janitor was tearing apart from himself.

“Wally, no. I don’t hate you…” He never heard his voice so low and soft, and him talking so close to his ear made the goosebumps to mix with his already shivering body. “I can’t even think about it; with all you’ve done for me… but… I’m the one who can’t notice the elephant dancing…”

Wally barely could believe it; Sammy Lawrence, the Sammy Lawrence, tried to humor him! But albeit his efforts, he couldn’t do more than just sigh as a weak imitation of a laugh with a wobbling frown.

“The truth is…” The musician continued. “…that I… I really can’t get relationships… I just can’t…! Not even as a child, not even making friends. I always kept my mind straight forward and whenever I was teased about if someone liked me, I just booked it, just thinking that they were a bother. But now, with all that you’ve done for me, all you’ve been through for me and what Norman told me… I just… I can’t believe I’m so oblivious! And treating you the way I did… I’m so sorry I never had idea. I really am.”

They stood that way, Sammy making sure Wally would calm down eventually as he stroked his hand up and down through the janitor’s head and neck, even downer to his back. Time didn’t matter, he just wanted to make sure he’d be okay. And when he felt the young man’s hiccups recede and his shoulder no more damp than it already was, he pulled him away, enough to be able to see his swollen red and tired eyes, but keeping him close as he held him by his shoulders.

“Wally?” The man mentioned felt so tired, exhausted, he didn’t think he would be able to react to anything the music director could throw at him anymore; perfect instance to be dropped gently.

“’m okay, Mr. Lawrence…” He held the man’s wrist, ready to pull him off him when the bomb was dropped. “Thank ya. I really appreciate yer apologize and all ya been with me, for real, but… I know what comes now, so if ya–”

“You know?” Sammy questioned, not allowing him to drop his hands from his shoulders. “Franks, I didn’t come here to tell you a lousy story of why I don’t hang out with people. I didn’t come here to tell you a sad story of my childhood, nor I spent half an hour in my office trying to think of a way to tell you I’m sorry for you to just shrug me off in the end.”

Wally’s tears stopped from how dumbfounded he was. The idea of not being all opened a new race of thoughts as the same time he found himself frozen in spot, trying to articulate anything, mind begging for an explanation, but only able to mumble incoherently, fear rising up his throat as his eyes widened in growing panic. Signs luckily caught by the musician.

“Wally. Wally, stop it. I told you, I didn’t come for it. So better stop it and listen… please.” He added as trying to placate the sever tone he used to use, as he held the younger man steady. “Wally, I came… I just… What I’m trying to… Arg!” Sammy roared frustrated, tensing up and not noticing how tight his grip on the janitor’s shoulder was getting.

“Mir– Mister Lawrence, yer hurting me…!” He hissed as his knees wobbled, in the verge of bending as to escape the grip but unable as the musician held him on spot, almost pinned.

“It’s just… I… AGH! Iwanttogiveyouachance!” There, he said it. and as quickly as his words tripped out of him, he let go of the janitor and turned, mumbling through a hand that muffled his words– if there’re even words.

Wally had to pause to make an effort to process the phrase in its individual words. And even though he wrote and rewrote his sayings on his mind, it still didn’t allow him to take the weight of such sentence.

“Mr. Lawrence, I’m sorry, but–”

“It’s ‘Sammy’.” He interrupted, catching off ward the even more dumbfounded janitor. “Stop calling me ‘Mr. Lawrence’. I told you, I want to give you… a chance… You don’t have to keep the formalities.” Sammy added as he slowly tuned once again to the young man, standing on his statement as firm as he could. But seeing Wally broken on tears once again wasn’t what he expected. “Wally?”

“No… No, I can’t…!” He cried out muted, not allowing such statement to sink in him

“What? Why not? What do you mean?” He reached Wally’s arm but he shoved away, retreating until he hit the organ keys, shaking.

“This is wrong… This is wrong…! I can’t let ya, this is wrong!”

“Why are you saying that? Who says so?” He approached him, but Wally flinched as he shook his head in denial.

“Everyone… everyone says… they will talk, they will judge… they will tell Mr. Drew and then will be all for us! They will kick us out, that would be all for yer career, and I can’t let that happen!”

“Then they don’t have to know.” He finally held him, stopping his trembling head as he cooped his cheeks with both hand, gently forcing him to lock stares. “You are the best knowing what happens around and what not. No one will be able to say anything without you noticing.”

“That’s not how it works. The one they talk about always is the one who knows at last!”

“Then what about Norman? He knew and he didn’t say anything to anyone before. He knew about you and you do trust him, do you?” Sammy waited for Wally to nod at least. “Don’t you think he would alert you in case of anything?” Another jerked nod.

“It’s too much of a risk. Ya could lose everything!”

“Would I lose you?” The silence from the janitor stretched fearfully, only interrupted by his hiccupping sobs. “Would I?” Wally’s jaw clenched as his neck jerkily started to move side to side, prompting his head to shake in negative. “Then I’ll take the risk. I don’t want to see you wearing yourself for me and still acting like, like a jerk around you. You… don’t deserve that. And if this is what I should do to at least return a part of all you’ve done for me…” A pause; Sammy sighed flickering his stare and breathed deep, gathering his own courage as he locked his eyes on the janitor’s ones. “…then I want to be with you. And don’t start with all those things of ‘is wrong’ or ‘you can’t’ or ‘people’ll talk’. I’ve never gave a damn to what they say and I won’t start now. If you want to, we can keep formalities in public. But…” He released his wet cheeks as now he was looking for Wally’s hands to hold together. “…from now on, I want you to know that I’m with you, Wally. And better get that in your head ‘cos I don’t pretend to change my mind this far, got it?”

And he stood there, holding his hands as they got tighter and tighter on his grip, shaking as reflection of all the janitor’s body. Sammy studied him thoroughly, expecting any other sign from him that could replace his tears. But again, against anything expected, hiccups of a repressed cry started to leak from the young man’s throat.

And as Sammy’s unsteadiness grew, Wally let out his cry out loud, no more barriers holding it in, and bereaved wails broke through his vocal cords, all while he parted his grip on the musician’s hands and threw his arms around the man’s shoulders, clenching his fits around the back of his shirt, afraid of letting go, as if this very moment, this very man, could slip from his embrace and reality would come to mock of such a ludicrous fantasy of him. But no, he was real, he stood there, prevented him from fall back and over all that, he… accepted his feelings. He was willing to be together, to be with him.

“Hey, Wally, now what’s the problem?! I thought this would make you happy somehow? Why’re you still crying?” He asked puzzled and still quite reluctant to such unprompted contact.

“I– I do! I am! Sorry, it’s just… Sammy, I love ya so much; I’ve loved ya fer so long…! I can’t… please, tell me yer not lying, tell me this’ real! Please…!”

Love… the weight of that sole word suddenly made it feel way too much real for Sammy, whose thoughts and movements slowed as he tried to let that sink. Oh, gosh, he wasn’t just a silly infatuated boy, he meant it! How long had he been suffering this hard for him, if he even deserved such affection? That only made him feel more of an idiot than he already assumed; one thing was hear that from someone else not involved, but another entire level was to hear that from the main source. He… he really was deep down on his heels for him, and Sammy couldn’t give the chance to screw this.

“This… this is real, Wally.” He finally said quietly as his arms engulfed him too, comfortingly, reassuringly. “I’m not… I’m not lying, I’m with you now… I am for real…”

That was the last statement of the musician, allowing the silence be filled by the cries of his companion, which were slowly subsiding though he never let his grip to loosen. All the while he gently stroked his mess of a hair, careful of not tugging it too hard, and pressed his cheek against the janitor’s neck, somehow dumbfounded of himself as he never had been so gentle before, let alone touchy. But that only remained as a buzzing bug in the back of his mind, as new questions started to brim in the frontline, as what he should do to not mess this, or if he will ever be as deserving of so much affection as the young man invested in him, or what his natural fragrance would be under all those chemical smells he sported thanks to his job. Cinnamon and honey was the first thing in his mind albeit random as he really hadn’t felt such… was it too soon to smell and guess?

“Wally? Wally, my boy, where are you?” The voice of the head of the studio, so gleeful and charming as only a severe boss voice could sound, thundered from behind the door, making both of theme to go as still as statues, hoping for no intromissions in the room.

“Sorry, mister Drew, but he’s kinda bussy right now.” Norman voice intercepted the first one, to what both new lovers shared a glance full of concern.

“What do you mean? An hour has passed since work time’s over and still there’s a lot of things that left!”

“Didn’ you hear the rough day the boy had? He already did everythin’ else he had to, just give ‘im some time and I make sure he’s done with everythin’ else.”

Silence stretched but no footsteps; seeming like he wasn’t going anywhere for a while. Until a sigh was heard.

“Will you make sure he’s done with all of his tasks? I don’t want him waddling around because some lost keys.”

“Don’ worry boss, I’m sure he’s already on check to do that.”

“Alright, I trust–…” He felt silent, why was that for? “Did… did Sammy leave already?” He questioned, seemingly having looked to the empty office.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’s in the restroom. Y’know, too much coffee can really do effects inside if you don’t eat properly.”

Again the silence outside stretched, but inside Wally was fighting for retain his giggles in, earning a side glare from the foretold man that, curious enough, didn’t burn even half of what they used to.

“Alright, then remind Wally to go and check the toilets whenever he finishes, okay?”

The last part seemed to fade as footsteps joined to the outside noises, fading as they progressed and out of earshot finally, allowing them to finally break the silence.

“That’s a close one…” Wally released first, shaking fearful yet quite excited against the risk proximity.

“Yeah, luckily Norman was there to–…” Sammy halted in his words as realization hit on his self. “Does this… does this mean that Norman heard us all along?”

Wally stared at him, as confounded as him while he tried to process the statement, though swollen eyes didn’t allow him to focus properly.

“No, I wasn’t. I just passed by the last part of your chat tho, very movin’. Now, would you two lovebirds get outta there? I don’t think Joey will eat another ‘xcuse if you take any longer than already.”

The last part sounded faded, distant, but how quiet the projectionist’s footsteps used to be was hard to tell if he already left. Their only indicator was the silence reigning once again, one that was cut by the giggles of the janitor and a humorous roll of eyes from the musician.

“You know, now that I think so, is weird not having heard your laugh in the whole day. It really fills the spaces.” Sammy complimented as Wally earned a darker tone on his face, tenderly looking at the man. “Okay, we better keep moving before anyone else notices.”

He spun on his heels, ready to go, but a hand was trapped, laced with the other’s one. Wally’s giddy face had his stare lock on the act, cheeks still warm though no longer from the tears; and he walked to be right next to the man– his man, contemplating the height difference as his own chin barely reached his shoulder. His goofy smile, so pure and now incontrollable, raised along the rest of his features to see the music director’s eyes, so compassionate as never before, and even a lopsided smile creeped up to his face.

“Sorry, it’s just… I never thought this could really happen…!”

Sammy just watched him, watched as he never did before. And with eyes fluttering and lips puckered, he bent a little, enough to reach his cheek once again, only that this time giving a soft and tender kiss on his side, leaving the young man completely stunned.

“Well, seems like it is happening.” He humored right when he parted from his side, releasing his hand as well and walking towards the room entrance. “Now better get things done, Franks. If Joey already came once he surely will come back to check you have it all done. Understood?”

He stood still for a while, holding the doorknob but not quite opening it yet. He looked over his shoulder, eyes half lidded as he gave the janitor a last glance. And with a contained huff, a slow close of the eyes and a tender smile, he gave a solemn bow with his head to his new couple before abandoning the room.

Wally couldn’t be more flustered.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

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gyllenhaalstories · 4 years ago

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Fun question for you Laurie: between Jake's characters, Chris' and Daniel's, who do you see yourself dating?

hi, anon!!!!! this quesyion sent me into an existential crisis for a moment, but i'm back and ready to take this way too seriously! i'm pretty sure i've answered something similar in the past so i apologize if some of my answers don't match the previous ones! there are two ways to go, the realistic one and the ideal boyfriend! enjoy whatever this is!

also i hate the new beta asks thank you next.

for jake:

realistically speaking, i feel like adam bell from enemy would be the obvious choice for me. we'd probably have some mutual appreciation while i studied in the same department of history where he teaches but refused to take it further until i graduated, or perhaps we met at a seminar/congress and discussed research topics and stuff like that. we'd probably be bored of each other real quick, or have trouble separating work and relationship. he feels very within himself and not very talkative. i would rate this relationship a 6/10. we would probably break up after a few years, knowing it takes time for things to fix themselves but we'd never really put the effort in the relationship. would probably meet later in life and we'll be happy for each other that we moved on.

my ideal boyfriend is probably morf. in a very ideal world where my 2 braincells match all of his knowledge and where i can take criticism without crying, we'd be an interersting pair. i'm extremely clingy and we'd probably spend all of our time koala hugging or visiting galleries and me trying to tell him not to destroy yet another artist's dream and career. we'd have a special bond, like he had with joséphine except i won't treat him like crap. he'd insist we travel a lot, we talk down random streets rather than visit popular landmarks and tourists spots. we'd paint for fun, take pottery or knitting classes just for the sake of doing activities together. probably would never get married, which i'm very supportive of. we'd exchange promise rings. we'd adopt a cat and a dog. we'd be very happy, although our perfectionism and high standards would create problems in our relationship that don't even exist. we'd solve the issues with an unplanned trip to prague, to berlin, to wherever our hearts take us. 9/10 (just kidding it's detective loki xox)

for chris:

frank adler. again, we'd meet at school when he was teaching. i took his philosophy class, struggled because it was too advanced, he took pity in me and offered to help. he really did help, like a lot. weekly meetings, emails, advice, anything. we'd get to know each other through all of these meetings, private details would slip accidentally. maybe one time his hand would rest on my thigh as he scoots closer to read through an article i found. we'd laugh awkwardly. we'd just kiss. and promise it would never happen. except it would, even after i'm done with his class. we'd have something very serious, i'd even sign up for a second class with his later on and much to my dismay, he would have vanished before the first day without warning around the time his sister died. it'd take months, if not a whole year or two for one of us to reach out again. he'd invite me to florida, after we exchanged emails and texts and he would tell me all about mary. i would like roberta immediately, she'd hint at frank that she has a good feeling about the two of us. i rate this relationship a solid 8.5/10. i hate kids, but i'd play with legos with mary every time she wants.

ANDY FUCKING BARBER. HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! just marry me already, damn it that's all i'm asking. 9.9/10 (he drinks too much beer so he loses a 0.1).

for daniel:

that one took a lot of thinking. it's a tie between tony from burnt and (modern day) lazslo. TONY IS GAY I KNOW BUT LET ME EXPLAIN why date when you can have a best friend????? friendship can be so wholesome and fulfilling?????? and i think that's what would happen. with tony for example, we could have bumped into each other after breaking up with our partner/having our hearts broken. he is so in love with adam despite knowing it's impossible for his feelings to be mutual; maybe i could have fallen in love with a girl who doesn't love me back. and we just eat ice cream and complain. i'd offer to help him with the restaurant, after hours. put the chairs on the tables while he's short of staff and needs help. tony is a good cook and no one can tell me otherwise, so he'd sneak in the kitchens and make us late night snacks. 10/10 friendship. we'd grow old together, always find ways to hang out despite our schedules getting busy. NOW FOR LASZLO we'd meet in college for sure.i'd ask him to watch my stuff (even if he would be a total stranger at the beginning) while i go pee or something, and he would WATCH IT like sit on my seat and make sure no one dares steal the books i took from the shelves for their own research, or steal a pen idk. it'd make me laugh when i'd come back. we'd bond over just how awkward we are. he'd tell me about his family stories, about how life is in germany where he's from. i like the thought of me being the one to introduce him to mary, she could be my roommate or friend who studies film. laszlo would introduce me to john, who'd probably try to flirt and date. plot twist: i'd have a massive crush on sara, john's childhood friend and friend with benefits and overall confusing situation but i would never act on it. laszlo'd be very good with helping me with my breakdowns and anxiety, although that would become an issue. there would be gray areas where he'd start treating me like a patient or a lab rat from what he's learning in class. he'd be a bit too invasive and insensitive at times. we'd probably have times where we fought and refused to step on our pride and fix the situation. we'd reunite around graduation and celebrate one another. we'd be the kind of friends that don't need to hang out all the time to keep the friendship alive, we could meet once or twice a year and catch up and be good. 7.5/10, but we'd improve as we grow older. plot twist part 2: i would end up with sarah, laszlo with mary and i'd be both the bridesmaid to their wedding with john as the best man and with sara as the flower girl just to laugh at how she'd throw petals in our faces and protest against the institution of marriage.

my one true love: zemo, self explanatory. 10000000/10.

there you go, that's the psychoanalysis no one asked for. <3

#gyllenhaalstories answers

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of-the-starlit-night · 7 years ago

Text

Apprentice Asks - Aurex

In an attempt to finally get some info out there about my apprentice and to fill her tag, I answered this ask from. It’s long, plus I don’t know how to answer things in a short way so it’s all below the cut...

1) Which character(s) is your apprentice romancing? What attracts your apprentice to them? Asra. Uh, can everything be an answer? Seriously though, Asra has a lot that attracts Aurex. How at ease he seems in almost any scenario and he’s pretty much always cheerful. His laugh. His dimples. How caring he is. His thirst for adventure. She’s just comfortable around him. Even without romance, they are incredibly close friends and they have respect for one another and that sort of thing is incredibly important to her.

2) If your apprentice was a romanceable character in The Arcana, what would their route be like? (Feel free to be as detailed or as vague as you’d like.) Hmm, I’m not really sure. She probably wouldn’t make a good romance option since she’s more of a slow-burn type of person and there isn’t any time for that in the game. In the most vague sense, her route would have magic, light-hearted teasing, and plenty of flirting and fluff.

3) How does your apprentice take their coffee? Do they even drink coffee? If not, what do they drink instead to put pep in their step? Aurex prefers drinking tea of any variety. Her foray into coffee territory has gone no further than café mochas and that’s as far as it’s going.

4) If your apprentice was attending a potluck, what would they take as their contribution? Either potstickers (favorite food) or cookies (favorite thing to bake).

5) What are some of your apprentice’s minor and major fears? What’s the best way to comfort them when afraid? - Minor fear – Aurex is somewhat afraid of rivers since it’s how she lost her parents. Other water is fine, just no rivers. - Major fear – I’m going to be really uncreative and say never regaining her memories. She hates being the one to know the least about herself.

Physical contact is the best way to comfort her. She likes if someone holds her hand or wraps her up in their arms.

6) Does your apprentice enjoy dressing up or would they prefer to just wear what’s comfortable? She enjoys dressing up. But Aurex thinks that dressing up and comfort don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Dressing up be damned if heels are involved though, that’s where she draws the line.

7) Is your apprentice happy with their physical appearance? If so, do they flaunt it? If not, what do they want to change? Aurex doesn’t flaunt it in an obnoxious way, but she is happy with her appearance and takes pride in it.

8) What would your apprentice want as a birthday gift? Jewelry. It is guaranteed to be a no-fail gift for Aurex and she is of the mind that one cannot have too many baubles so there’s no such thing as receiving too many gifts of jewelry either. Other things that would work are books and literally anything that someone said made them think of her because she’s a sap like that. Honestly, you could give the girl a pair of socks that you said made you think of her for whatever reason and she’d love them to pieces.

9) What is your apprentice’s natural stress response (fight, flight, or freeze) and how does that influence their actions when confronted with a stressful situation? Do they recover from stress quickly or does it affect them for hours afterward? Either fight or flight, which is literally what she has done in the story so far. (Attacking Julian and trying to gtfo Lucio’s chambers.) Though I feel like she might lean towards fight in most scenarios as she likes to deal with things head-on instead of ignoring it. How quickly she recovers depends on the situation. Scary things will linger for a while, other things she gets over pretty quickly.

10) What’s the first thing someone is likely to notice about your apprentice when meeting them for the first time? Do they have any other quirks that set them apart? Strictly appearance-wise it would be her eyes. Her hair is cut into blunt bangs that end just above her eyes plus the precisely drawn black liner draws attention to her golden eyes. Second thing would be her tattoos and the amount of jewelry on one body. Otherwise, people notice that she comes across as very comfortable in her own skin.

11) How does your apprentice act when meeting new people? Are they outgoing, shy, awkward, aloof? Do they like being the center of attention? Aurex is warm and friendly when first meeting new people. And even though she doesn’t know them, she makes people feel like she genuinely cares about them by giving them her attention. There isn’t much desire in her to be the center of attention, except when she’s dancing, so she’s completely okay with being on the sidelines.

12) How does you apprentice treat people in positions of authority? Does your apprentice believe they deserve respect just because of their position/status? She believes there is some level of respect due based on position/status. But there is also a point where no matter your status, if you’re being a dick and can’t be bothered to show respect to others then she has no respect for you. Aurex can’t stand bullies.

13) Your apprentice sees someone who is very obviously wealthy accidentally drop a small pouch of coins. What do they do? If it happened now, she would return it without a thought. However, when she was a street rat Aurex would have been conflicted but would have ultimately returned it and hoped they gave her a few coins in return. She avoided outright stealing if at all possible, due to leftover teachings from her parents still ingrained in her.

14) What was your apprentice’s reaction to Julian’s speech on the docks in Book VII? How did they deal with it afterwards? So, this one is a little tricky since while I play through his and Nadia’s route as Aurex, I don’t ship her with either of them so it’s merely informational for me. That being said, when I did play it I went with the “Fine, I’ll leave” option for Aurex and later the “I don’t want to talk about it”. Honestly, Aurex wouldn’t have been all that torn up about the break up since she keeps her heart fairly guarded and it takes her a while to develop any significant feelings worth being upset over. Plus, she would have been like “We weren’t together?” So, obviously that pretty much goes against everything in that part of the chapter.

15) How does your apprentice feel about sharing a bed with Asra in the shop? Short answer is Aurex likes sharing a bed with someone, especially Asra. She sleeps better when there’s another person nearby. Long answer is prior to finding out they share a bed I had been under the assumption that they had separate beds, so now I just blend canon with my now headcanon which is: They used to share a bed early on when Aurex needed the supervision, help, or whatever when Asra was helping rehabilitate her. But much like he needs to go on trips to hide his feelings from Aurex, he started to sleep in the small bed tucked into the back workroom when it became too much. But they still do share a bed on a fairly regular basis. Every time he comes back from one of his trips, they fall asleep together without fail after talking about it. Sometimes they just fall asleep while talking or practicing magic, not to mention naps, so it’s not really a structured thing. There are times when Aurex sleeps alone and times where she shares with Asra.

16) Does your apprentice enjoy the luxury of the palace and Nadia’s gifts or do they find it overwhelming? Both simultaneously. She enjoys splurging on frivolous pretty things occasionally and Nadia gives her pretty things so that’s great. It’s overwhelming in the sense that those gifts cost way more than she could ever afford, and the luxury of the palace is more than anything she is used to.

17) How does your apprentice react when confronted with the creature from the abandoned wing in Asra and/or Nadia’s routes in Book VII? What’s going through their head at the time? Afraid. Aurex remembers what happened to her the last time she encountered Lucio, which was not fun. And now he admits knowing her and seems to be looking for her, so it freaks her out. She can’t help but wonder if he’s been lurking around when she can’t see him.

18) How does your apprentice feel about Consul Valerius? Going with the fact that in her canon she has had only one encounter with him, she pretty much hates the man at this point. During the wine fiasco, he spilled it on Senka, so that was more than enough for her to take issue with him. Don’t mess with her familiar.

19) Is there a song or songs that you associate with your apprentice? I actually have a playlist that was originally supposed to be for her, but it has now just morphed into an Aurex/Asra playlist and I regret nothing. Anyway, I have “IDGAF” by Dua Lipa. (Whose singing voice happens to be Aurex’s VC.) “IDGAF” has 1000% to do with her shitty ex. Oh, and “Freak Like Me” by NoMBe and “Dance” by POWERS, but only because I feel like she would like those songs, they don’t actually have any special meaning.

20) Is your apprentice friends with any other fan apprentices? My friend, @asrathemagician, and I often talk about our apprentices being friends and what not, so Noctis and Aurex are indeed friends. But hey, if any of you want our apprentices to be friends, go for it. Aurex is super friendly. You more than have my blessing.

#the arcana game #the arcana #aurex #apprentice asks

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intoxicatiing · 7 years ago

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pierre for the ship meme because i hate myself

Ultimate Ship Meme || Accepting || @maitretmaitresse

General:

How long will they last? Longer than they ever expected to. Ruby will almost certainly love him until she dies.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? For Pierre, it was almost instant attraction, but love came quickly all the same. For Ruby, it was about a month. They were young and foolish at first, and their feelings never quite went away.

How was their first kiss? Terrible. Pierre was drooling all over himself, likely half drunk, and Ruby was still learning how to be a sex worker. They got better as time went on.

Wedding:

Who proposed? Pierre, of course.

Who is the best man/men? I don’t think there are best men. There’s not many people at the wedding at all -- it’s very quiet and private at a small church outside the city.

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? Pierre’s sisters, because they insist on it.

Who did the most planning? Ruby, probably, only because she’s a planner by nature, and Pierre wants her to have the perfect wedding.

Who stressed the most? Ruby, partially over the details, partially over the fact that something is going to go horribly, horribly wrong. Luken will come after her, some jealous aristocrat will break into the ceremony, or one of them will get sick.

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? Massu Luken, of course. There are lots of jokes about not inviting Pierre’s family, but I don’t think they follow through on it.

Sex:

Who is on top? They’re switches. Pierre might be on top more often just because she likes when he carries her to bed.

Who is the one to instigate things? Ruby, probably. Pierre is always down to do something, but she does prefer to cuddle more than actually have sex, so it’s her call when it actually moves on to something more.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? Depends on the act, but usually about half an hour probably? There’s more of an emphasis on enjoying each other than climaxing, so they last a varying amount of time each time.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? Not necessarily all the time, but they each take care of each other. Pierre takes great pride in knowing he can make Ruby orgasm, and goes down on her whenever she lets him.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? None. Ruby’s only child is Massu’s, and by the time they have the chance, she’s too old anyway.

How many children will they adopt? None. Ruby every now and then has the want to start a family but it never lasts too long.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? N/A

Who is the stricter parent? N/A

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? N/A

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? N/A

Who is the more loved parent? N/A

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Ruby would be too involved

Who cried the most at graduation? Ruby would be a mess.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? Pierre, end of story.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? Pierre. Ruby learns basic recipes, but she never quite gets the hang of it.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? Ruby, probably. She’s too used to fine dining, but she’s trying.

Who does the grocery shopping? They go together. It’s gross and adorable.

How often do they bake desserts? Not often, but Ruby will bring sweets with her every now and then when she visits.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? They both eat meat. Ruby’s just more dainty about it, unless they’re alone in which case they’re both sloppy and laughing about it.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? Neither of them actually know what anniversary to celebrate until they (hypothetical) marriage, since there was nothing romantic about the first few months of their relationship where he was just someone she practiced flirting with and he drooled over her. But after they’re married, she definitely does something very nice for him every anniversary.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? They’re about equal in that. Unless they meet by chance in the market, they tend to be on the same wavelength about whether they want to go out or stay in.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? Pierre. Ruby may be a bad cook, but she’s damn careful about it.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? Pierre does it more often, but Ruby is more thorough.

Who is really against chores? Neither. Ruby loves doing them because it makes her feel less like a kept woman and more like a real working-class girl.

Who cleans up after the pets? They don’t have pets, but Pierre is in charge of sweeping the floors, which doubtless have some rat droppings in there.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? Pierre. End of Story.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? I mean, he runs an inn so Pierre’s used to it, and Ruby’s so used to having to dress up and put on a show. After the hypothetical marriage, they probably have a bit where she waltzes around, distracting people and chatting with the guests while he pickpockets the guests.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? Pierre. He can get money out of nothing.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? Not does Ruby take longer baths, she takes more of them.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? Neither, there’s no dog.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? They don’t do much, if they do anything. Ruby hates the holidays, and Pierre has his sister take care of it instead probably.

What are their goals for the relationship? To be happy, and to make each other happy. Ruby is pursuing him selfishly, wanting to be with him because he makes her laugh and smile and feel at ease, while he’s perhaps more selfless about it. He loves her, but he wants to give and make her happy more than the other way around. That’s not to say Ruby doesn’t try her best to spoil him, though.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? Pierre. Ruby is up with the sun every day, unless she’s sick.

Who plays the most pranks? Pierre, and she loves it.

#answered meme #ma bonheur #whoops it's fluffy #maitretmaitresse #Ask

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xxxnate-clifford-blog · 7 years ago

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was that ( c. evans )? no, it’s just ( nathaniel “nate” clifford). they are the (27-238 ) year old ( vampire ). i heard they’re (outgoing and easy-going ) but also ( flirtatious and happy-go-lucky). rumor has it they ( haven’t ) pledged allegiance to the hollow. i must warn you, neutrality is not an option. ⚜ Hihi dear peeps, A here again with a new character & i would love to plot with anyone interested in forming connections or all kinds of plots with Nate here ;) ⚜ Just like this post if interested and i’ll im you <3

soooo he is amara’s ex-husband and father of August. Since he is from ancient greece like Amara, Silas and the others, his name ofc isn’t actually Nate Clifford, as he has recently adopted that in the 21st century in order to blend in with the times. His real name is Aegeus.

Life in Ancient Greece, some time in the 1st century BC, as a normal human:

So far, Andrea and I have plotted that he and amara married out of love and it was not an arranged marriage, tho i think their union was probably approved by both their families considering that they didn’t elope and that most marriages were usually arranged by the families at that time, and theirs waren’t. She was 14 and he 24 when they got married, big age gap i know, but then again it was very, very common during those times to even marry someone 30 years older ryt? XD But anyway, he and Amara fell really fast and headlong in love with each other.

So far i have it in my head that he was a nice, independent, had pretty smart brains, determined, decent & very well-mannered, kind, brave and quite the dutiful son to his parents. He was also rather proud ( not really much in the negative way but more in the sense that he valued honor and respect a lot, takes pride in keeping his dignity, face, name and family name as well as family honor upright. he can also be brash at certain decisions.

He and Amara had a very loving, happy and faithful marriage which was why August was born with so much love and adoration from both his parents quite soon after their union. Poor man didn’t get to be with his son for long tho, as about a year after August was born, he got sent way/ joined the war (I have to clear this detail with Andrea first tho before 100% confirming it as part of his story;D haha)

Life after Ancient Greece and as a vampire:

Okie so he died at war, when he was 27, unfortunately leaving behind a widowed Amara and baby toddler August :( In the year of 1811, he was suddenly resurrected back to life as a human by a witch in London, who was hungrily trying to see if she could create a resurrection spell and he was one of the 3 ppl that she successfully brought back to life and which she randomly chose from very diff past centuries. Her spell however, wasn’t fully successful in the end, as 2 out of the 3 people she brought back to life, died after only a week. And hence, amara’s ex-husband was also about to die very soon and so the witch, desperate to ensure the survival of at least one of her ‘magical science lab-rats/ pet projects’, she then asked a vampire friend of hers to help turn him into a vampire so as to make sure that he live. He was very weak as a resurrected human at that time and barely conscious most of the time and not really aware of what was happening to him. So it was only after he had transitioned into a vampire, only did he fully wake up, was conscious and brimming back to health, full of life. Brains working, senses alert and everything, he was thus told abt what they both did to him and he then ultimately remembered who he was, his whole identity and former life as a human with Amara in the ancient times. He was thus grief-stricken and devastated to know that he was know alive in a completely diff era and Amara and his whole family was obvs. long dead for more than a thousand centuries already. Since he was now a vamp and knowing that he would then have to live for an infinite number of years without his family and friends from the past, he then seeked help & bumped into a kind-hearted witch whom he begged her to help him. Now this 2nd witch also happens to be one of Xandria’s ancestors in the past btw :)P He requested her to help him take away all of his memories of being alive in ancient times, basically his whole former life as a human & most especially of having a wife and child, as it pained him too much & it was too suffering for him to think about both of them especially. And Xandria’s London ancestor at that time, determined to keep her promise to him to help relieve him of his painful memories of the past, then spun him a new life story lie, after she had removed his real past memories and told him a simple story of him ‘being born and raised in that current 18th century and that his family members were dead already and he himself had been in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and was caught in a crossfire sword&gun fight between a group of people , leading to his untimely death. As he was almost dying, he was then revived by a passing vampire who took pity on the man having to die so young’, the very same vampire who had turned him earlier in the first place & who happened to be Xandria’s ancestor’s lover! ( thus as y’all can see that besides wanting to be kind to the poor lad, she also wanted to protect her lover’s butt and not having Aegeus come after him for revenge of having turned him into a vampire against his will. She also kept a few secret diaries during her lifetime, so she did also write in the whole account of everything that had happened and what she did, in one of those diaries, which is now in Xandria’s collection of diaries, which Xandria had dug up among many others of her ancestors, over the passing years and compiled into her own keeping for knowledge. ( about half of the women and some of the men in Xandria’s family tree of ancestors, including Xandria herself, kept diaries lmaoXD)

She and her vampire lover then helped him to adapt to both living as a supernatural while still perfectly appearing as a ‘normal human’ in the 18th century and after her death, said vampire also helped him for a little while longer on how to change his culture of living based on whichever time period he was in and how to blend in and quickly adapt to each passing of period of change in the human society. As he still had a few traits from his former life, he was a quick learner, and grew to be very independent and bold & by some miracle, seemed to have a strong sense of business acumen. Thus for the past 2 centuries, he had worked very hard from the bottom to the top of society and eventually dabbled in many, various enterprises and business deals over his 211 years of living as a vampire.

Hence, he has by now accumulated a great amount of wealth and he also has changed his identity and name over the years to appear as a perfectly normal 27 year old ‘human’ and traveled widely to many diff places. He came to the States after WW2, and has been living in many diff places all around US until now.

He has come to NOLA largely because he wants to oversee the starting operations of a new branch of one of his businesses there and isn’t really bothered nor cares about whatever is brewing in NOLA right now. He also had this very tiny , weird feeling in him some weeks back, that seemed to be calling him to NOLA, that tiny subconscious gut feeling that is kinda giving him a hint that it is imperative that he be in NOLA rn. But he had then quickly brushed off this feeling shortly after he felt it as nothing much to it and dismiss the small unknown hint. He’s just there to attend to his affairs, have a fun time, enjoying himself as much as possible in this vibrant city and then leave. His personality currently is of a v flirtatious, fun and easy-going person with a happy-go-lucky , v carefree personality, & also with an enterprising business mind on the side . He’s also a non-committal person and enjoys his bachelorhood way too much to settle down anytime soon, hahaXD. He is also very friendly and likes to dwell on the positive instead of the negative.

#macabre:intro #bio #plotting call?#;)

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lucius-inspo-blog · 8 years ago

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PART I: THE MUGGLE

Name: Aman

Age: ..22? shit how old am I? Yeah, 22. We’re good.

Timezone: PST

Preferred Pronouns: She/her

Activity Level: um… active? low key always around ngl

Have you read the rules and F.A.Q.?: yuppp

Tell us a bit about yourself and roleplaying: umm… hi

What is your favourite spell?: Weird question, I know, but I’m curious! Fat rat yellow spell!

Ships | Anti-Ships: Lucius/Narcissa, Lucius/Chem

Anything else?: sorry, i wrote a lot…

PART II: THE WIZARD

Name: Full name of the character you are applying for.

Age and Birthday: August 11, 1954, which makes him 25

Preferred Pronouns: He/him

Character alignment: Neutral Evil. He might not exactly fit the mold but I’d say the following holds true: A neutral evil villain does whatever she can get away with. She is out for herself, pure and simple. She sheds no tears for those she kills, whether for profit, sport, or convenience. The explanation goes on to explain that he has no love of order or destruction for the sake of destruction. Which, honestly, is true. All of that, his reasons for everything tie back to himself.

Affiliation: Death Eater. Why’d he join? Practical reasons: everyone is, Lord Voldemort is clearly powerful, there’s a movement here he wants to be a part of, he wants to be actively involved, he knew his father’d done plenty of meddling in affairs but this is more than that and even better, he would be making things happen Emotional reasons: he struggles with depression, the bloody part of this role serves as therapy of sorts, it brings him a rush, a power and something bigger.

Occupation: Pls, he has none. Socialite. As a Malfoy, he’s been taught to have his fingers in everything but to always keep his respectability. He’s shrewd, clever and intends to go after power, however he refers being the whispers in someone’s ear rather than to take the limelight (in case it backfires in the future). He doesn’t mind throwing anyone under the bus, but he’ll always do it from behind the scenes. This persona is part of why he’s able to plead Imperius curse when put on trial after the war. He was never openly cruel towards the wrong people. When we see him later in the series, we see a lot through Harry’s very biased perspective where he is openly cruel. At that point, he has made an enemy out of Harry and makes a point to be brutal. Backspace jut a little earlier in the book and you’ll hear him telling his son to never be openly hostile towards Harry because it wouldn’t do well to hate the BWL.

PART III: THE INTERVIEW

1. What was your first sexual experience if you had one? Is it a positive or negative memory?

“I hope you know that, usually, I’ll need a good glass of wine or three before delving into such topics. However, I can make an exception today.” He paused for effect, playful smile hiding behind the rim of his wine glass. “Let’s see, I was bright eyed young thing at Hogwarts and spending time with an older girl– hush, we’re not naming names. We’d found a little alcove and had ourselves a quick, little fumble. Awkward, a little cringe worthy, definitely warrants a good chuckle as I look back at it now. Overall, I’d say it’s a good memory, which I’m thankful for. I’ve heard quite a few tales of some terrible first experiences.” 2. If you had a weakness for one of the seven deadly sins, which one would it be and why?

“Easily gluttony. If one takes into account how much as I’ve eaten today, I might need to be rolled back to the manor.” Lucius laughed and patted his smooth stomach, taking delight in the lingering gaze on his figure. “You’d do the honors, right? Help a poor, gluttonous man out.” 3. What kind of house/apartment do you live in?

“Grandiose would not even begin to describe Malfoy manor. Don’t tell me I have never invited you over– oh no, this has to be rectified immediately. Next time we meet to discuss the policy, we shall do so at the manor. I’ll give you a tour, maybe we might be able to catch my father.” Lucius watched the man stand to attention at the mention of Abraxas. Perfect, he could work with that. 4. Which do you idealise most: happiness or success?

“Happiness. Success isn’t the answer. No, listen, wait a minute, don’t go saying I want every endeavor to fail. Success isn’t the answer to everything, it’s a way of life. I have it now and it’s something that I’ll always be chasing– anyone in their right mind will always be chasing it. Once you stop working towards it, it’s gone… Happiness, however, is a state of being that I’d love to get to know better. ” 5. If you died or went missing, who would miss you?

“My wife to be, I would imagine, would be quite torn apart by my loss.” An image played in his head: Narcissa crumpled over in a chair, inconsolable as she pressed a damp handkerchief to her eyes, the air full of choked sobs and prayers for his safe return. She was strikingly beautiful when she cried but he had no desire to test that theory, especially not in this manner. He would be staying as far from death as he could manage. His own death, that was. “Were you expecting me to say my father? Tsk, you and I both know he’d be delighted to raise another Malfoy heir. He always did enjoy my younger years.” 6. What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?

“As a man who thrives off company, I’d be at a loss.” Perhaps that’s where marriage comes in, another person to share your sleepless nights… The reply never passed his lips so that the man’s thoughts stayed away from a certain pale, beautiful figure wrapped up in silk sheets. Lucius wet his lips, then continued, driving the other wizard in another direction. “If no one is available for a floo call, well… I’ve always been a fan of learning something new– perhaps a musical instrument. Do you play any yourself?”

PART IV: THE DETAILS

Q1 Takeaways:

Warm and inviting, when he talks to someone, he’s basically inviting them into his space. Like they’re special and an exception and can see something that no one ever gets to see.

He can laugh at himself. Only he can though, if you say something about/to him, he’ll remember it and it’ll bite them in the ass later. But if he laughs at himself, you can go ahead and give a good chuckle with him.

He’ll withhold as deemed classy and he’ll do it in a way that doesn’t feel like he’s holding back. He’s smooth and charming and hardly hesitates

More selfish note about witholding the girl’s name: it’s also about his first time and he doesn’t want any other perspective. He doesn’t want someone being interested, seeking her out and getting her side of it. Again, back to the being able to laugh at himself but you better not laugh at him.

However, if he didn’t like her, if it was a bad memory, he might’ve let part of the name slip by ‘accident’.

Q2 takeaways:

He’s vain, he loves when people appreciate him. Half of these types of comments from him are for when the reply is along the lines of 'rolled back? Look at you, you’re flawless.“

Gluttony: selfishness. Overindulgence, he loves the big stuff and he often gets wrapped up and carried away in it. Give him something good and he’ll chase it with all he’s got. Even the thought or hope of something good is enough to demand his attention. He’s constantly seeking out fulfillment and happiness. He’ll gobble something up and then move on to the next thing, never satisfied. This is a huge aspect to him as a person where he doesn’t know where to stop. He tends to get enthralled by something and then carelessly toss it aside when it’s consumed (when he’s realizes that, no, it’s not going to make him happy). There’s always a new best thing: a new bottle of wine, the family wand, Narcissa.

Rejects

Lust: nah, not for sex, not for power. He has power

Envy: meeeeeeeeh

Greed: psh

Sloth: NOPE, he always gets irritated when people claim that rich just laze about in their manors. He’s seen his parents stress, struggle, and strive for more just like anyone else. He sees his friends and others in his society picking up jobs, organizing charities and balls, influencing the world…

Wrath: this is a contender, if only because he knows how to hold a grudge. He gets angry, upset, he goes to violence, he sees it as just. He revels in vengeance and enjoys a good cleverly hatched plan. However, it’s not blinding. He’ll never lose himself in a rage and will always weigh consequences. He values himself more than he values that anger.

Pride: another contendor, but not that high. This man’s ego is unparalleled by many. He values himself and thinks of himself as a gift to the world. It’s put in perspective, however, when you look at how he uses it. He considers himself high but he surrounds himself in other people who are at his level. He sees others’ pride as well and acknowledges that, yes, they should be proud. They’re accomplished as well. They’re powerful, skilled men and women to admire.

Q3 Takeaways:

He knows what the man wants, he just roundabout worked his way there. This wizard wants to meet Abraxas? That can be arranged. It might be. Maybe. Okay, Lucius had no intention of bringing his father in, but let’s keep that between us.

Even if Abraxas isn’t there, it’s a way to bring the other into his arms. Lucius enjoys these kinds of things, where he can show off the manor, share little 'secrets’, help the other unwind, bring him in to his side.

Q4 Takeaways

Fuck me up I have a lot of thoughts about this. So does Lucius, can you tell? His demeanor gets a bit more earnest, like he’s telling you something you need to know.

He’s familiar with success.

He isn’t familiar with happiness. It goes back to how he has the world at his fingertips. It hit him a lot as a teenager– he dealt with depression! He was prefect. He had good friends. A girlfriend. Sexual experiences. Grades. Pureblood. Teachers loved him. He was perfect. But he felt empty and, damn, he needed something. It’s multiple things: he doesn’t handle bad news as well, constantly looking up the ladder, goals are less gratifying than he’d thought them to be, he felt like he’d always had to hold back. He withdrew for a while there, in Hogwarts, pulled back from all the shit and just tried to sort his stuff out on his own, but that didn’t end up working out at all. Now he’s grounded a bit in his mission with the Death Eaters.

The torture and the killing is almost therapeutic to him, putting life and values into perspective. It keeps him grounded but it still doesn’t give him that happiness. Right now, he thinks Narcissa is going to make him happy.

Q5 Takeaways

He’s a dreamer, can you see? It works with him in general. He knows how to dream big. He knows how to get what he wants!

Narcissa… He has an image built up of her in his head. He has an idea of who she is and what she’ll be to him. He expects her to fill it, honestly. He’s controlling as a fiance and he makes sure he has a say. At the same time, he’s very romantic. He wants her to be in love with him and to miss him. There’s a juxtaposition there that’s going to definitely leave him jarred. Especially as he realizes that his image of Narcissa isn’t really her. Right now though, he idealizes her. She is the solution to all his problems, his other half, his wife to be, the woman who’ll share his bed and his struggles.

He’s spoiled by his dad. Absolutely spoiled and they have had a really good relationship ever since he was young. Something changed a little with his father when he grew up. He idealizes his childhood a little bit and that joy he had there.

Q6 Takeaways:

He’s an extrovert and everyone knows it

He has very very detailed and vivid thoughts about Narcissa being in his bed

The assumption that he can wake her up if he can’t sleep. Not for sex, but just in general. It’s such an interesting assumption and you can tell that he doesn’t understand relationships in any way

He realizes how the mention of Narcissa can bring the other guy’s thoughts to her scantily clad and in bed. So he’s protecting his wife to be’s virtue. Gtfo, guy, only he can daydream about her like that

He likes to spend time productively and doing things. He does, however, have a loose sense of the word productive. Making peacocks out of paper? Useless, sure, but it’s productive. An intricate braid in his hair? Why not?

Wand

Age: 11–now

Sentiments: it’s been a great companion to him, served him well, he enjoys a little flair Alder wood, dragon heartstring

Wood: Alder

Whilst Alder makes for an unyielding wood, its ideal owner is not stubborn or obstinate, but often helpful, considerate and most likeable. Whereas most wand woods seek similarity in the characters of those they will best serve, alder is unusual in that it seems to desire a nature that is, if not precisely opposite to its own, then certainly of a markedly different type. When an alder wand is happily placed, it becomes a magnificent, loyal helpmate. Of all wand types, alder is best suited to non-verbal spell work, whence comes its reputation for being suitable only for the most advanced witches and wizards. Alder is also excellent for protection against outside forces, and, when combined with phoenix feather, is a suitable match for a wizard who will "make their mark on this world”

Core: Dragon Heartstring

As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.

Age: for the future

Sentiments: longing Elm, dragonheartstring: Kept in a walking stick, family heirloom that’s been passed through the Malfoy family from patriarch to patriarch for generations.

He’s eagerly awaiting this wand, honestly. He’ll be getting it when he marries, as a symbol of becoming head of the Malfoy family.

Lucius has this game he plays with his father where he’ll try to sneak it away from him. They’ve been doing it since he was younger. Sometimes the wand would be laying in the open and he’d sneak it away. Other times, he’d go with a classic “OH WHAT WAS THAT” and then run with it, giggling like a mad man. It led to quite a few little accidents, unfortunately, but nothing that couldn’t be waved away.

Friends

He’s a lot looser with his friends than the general public. He can be more crude, more playful and enjoys that they can bring out the cruel streak in him.

He has no problem sharing disgusting details with his friends, he’s also the group gossip for sure.

Considering his friends, I can easily see them having a bit of a good cop bad cop dynamic sometimes.

He judges Rodolphus’ relationship with Bellatrix and definitely doesn’t want anything like that for himself.

He’s known for his parties tbh, he throws amazing ones

Family

Father: Lucius close with his dad and has always been. When he was younger, his dad would bring him along to teas and casual events, just to charm the ladies. Lucius would sit there, well behaved, flashing a couple smiles and asking a few questions here or there. Winning people over had never been difficult. He enjoyed the bonding. He loved seeing the inner working’s of his father’s circle– how things worked and why. The man did, however, have a habit of silencing young Lucius when he used the wrong words. Abraxas took a direct approach to raising Lucius and showed him how everything worked and why. His father didn’t give away all his secrets, though, which was made apparent when he rebuked any questions Lucius had about if he really did organize the unfortunate death of the first muggleborn minister.

Mother: His mother was a stranger to him growing up. She’d married Abraxas for his name, gave him an heir, and then declared her duties done. She stood by Abraxas at parties but hardly did much more. Lucius didn’t interact much with her growing up and, honestly, he didn’t want to. His father had never had kind words for her, which left a mark in Lucius’ impressionable young mind.

Relationship^ He doesn’t want a relationship like his parents. He wants love and companionship. He has a lot of views of what marriage would mean to him and they’re very naïve, idealistic and one sided.

The Supremacy

He was raised with pureblood supremacy. It was how he viewed life, of course. He knew he was better than others, that much was clear. He was isolated in a similar society. In this way, he definitely grew up seeing an ideal. This is what the rest of the world could be. He couldn’t fathom why they would not want this. His family has always held such beliefs and have been pulling strings in the background for years. Abraxas, in fact, was part of the assassination of the first muggle born minister. Lucius started his Hogwarts years with that belief never wavering. However, it was always just a belief until he joined the death eaters. Then it quickly became something more. He’s proud of his position as death eater. He sees himself as taking a belief and acting upon it, not just once or twice but over and over with each mission he takes. He sees himself and his comrades taking up arms for a something they believe in and rallying together. He finds a lot of strength in that idea. They’re coming together to do something good. It’s something that needs to be done. He recognizes the cruelty of it. How would he not see the fact that there’s death and torture at every step? He doesn’t mind, though. In fact, it’s part of the draw. Lucius struggled with depression for a lot of his teenage years, but this has helped pull him out of it. He’s found something that helps him feel steady. This is what he likes. He likes the torture. He likes the ideals. What is he there for? He’s there for himself. Honestly, he’s there because it works for him. It’s an easy, entertaining way for him to solidify his sense of self. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe in any of it. Actually, he’s dived fully into it and has quickly climbed the ranks of the Death Eaters. However, it just means that his loyalties lie with himself.

^– is a a coward? Idk about that. Maybe you could call him one. It’s more that he loves himself more than anything else and he’ll take care of himself. He’s loyal to the death eaters but that’s because it works for him. When it stops working for him, he’ll let it go. When Voldemort dies, he has no desire to go look for him. He’s not loyal to the man. Yes, he believes in pureblood supremacy, but he’ll find his own ways to play with it that doesn’t involve voldemort or the death eaters. And by then, he has a son as well which ends up becoming another way to ground him (a healthier way than torture and killing). He doesn’t go searching for Voldemort. He doesn’t want to end up in Azkaban. So he says forget that. He doesn’t think Voldemort is the answer to everything. He sees him and respects him and even fears him, but he believes in himself more than this dark wizard.

I’m using this in reference, as well, to when the DE masks come out at the Quidditch World Cup. At that point, he’s been bored, slightly unbalanced yet again and the torture was a pull he couldn’t resist.

OKAY

Now that you’ve read all this bullshit, go ahead and check out: https://lucius-inspo.tumblr.com/ it’s easier to read, i swear

PART V: THE STORY

Lucius Malfoy graced the wizarding world with his arrival between claps of thunder– applause. The downpour continued for a week after his birth but did nothing to deter the flocks of men and women who made their way to Malfoy manor. The manor sat under darkened skies, teeming with life as the pitter patter of rain against the tiles became another layer of music. After years and years of trying, a new heir for the Malfoy family was born. Abraxas paraded the newborn around, the bundle of blankets cradled in his arms for all to see while his wife sat with her friends, exhausted and pretending her insides weren’t torn apart.

These first few days of Lucius’ life reflected the following years perfectly. A doting father, a distant mother, thunderous applause and the Malfoy name.

The name Malfoy gave Lucius everything– wealth, prestige, luxury, heritage, purity, and a sense of pride– and his father never once let him believe otherwise. As he grew, Lucius learned how to wield this identity as both a weapon and a shield. With words as sweet as honey and a bright smile to go with it, he charmed everyone through his childhood, from his father’s coworkers to Hogwarts professors to the girls who giggled in the halls when he passed by. His actions held a warmth that, though exagerrated, could hardly be called fake.

Pull this string and you get a nod of acknowledgement, pull the other and you get an invitation into their home. Hogwarts was a breeze to the clever young Slytherin, who churned out excellent spellwork, acceptance into the Slug Club, and a prefect’s badge. His friends never left his side and the girls were another adventure entirely. Life should be perfect for Lucius Malfoy, the young boy who had everything.

Yet, the ever elusive concept of happiness stayed within arm’s reach for him. Both in and after Hogwarts, each goal he placed for himself brought a satisfied curl to his stomach before leaving him empty and in want of more. The man ate, drank and smiled his way through a barrage of parties but found himself craving more. Parties, alcohol, drugs, women. When something failed, he switched his attention to something else.

The fullfillment was found in the Death Eaters. When he joined Lord Voldemort’s ranks, it was as much for himself as it was for the cause that he believed in so dearly. The higher purpose and the torture that came with it was just enough to ground the unbalanced young man. The climb through Lord Voldemort’s ranks was accompanied by a renewed vigor in Lucius’ life.

He craved more: a wife, the manor, a new title, impact on policy, his family wand, his mother’s approval, Lord Voldemort’s favor, the list goes on and on. Narcissa was the first on the list and just as easy as everything else was to him. With a word in her mother’s direction, the young woman was already his, down to the new platinum blonde hair. The dedication delighted him like nothing else before. It could only get better from there.

At 25, Lucius had grown into himself as a man. He had gained his own reputation in the Ministry that could rival his father’s– one with no need for a job title. Lucius kept his hands clean, fingers gently wrapped around his wineglass as he smiled his way through yet another Ministry function with his beautiful fiancée by his side. With Narcissa as his own, the Ministry in his pocket, and the muggleborns quickly dwindling away, he saw good things for his future. And damn, he was craving something good.

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