#apromisetoeveryone

[apromisetoeveryone]

An Early Night || OPEN || Stripper AU

Steam clouded his vision as he made his way toward the club, a coat hugging his hunched shoulders as he squinted in the sunlight. It was becoming evening, but the sun was still hanging low in the sky. As someone who worked evening shifts, he wasn’t used to being out during the day very often and found he enjoyed the night life much better anyway. If he could avoid the sun altogether, he was sure he would be much happier.

“That’s not healthy.”

His mother’s voice echoed in his head as though she was standing right beside him and he scoffed, sipping at his coffee. What did she know anyway? She was the one that told him he could be whatever he wanted, and now she was worrying over whether he was making the right life choices. This was exactly what he wanted to do. His job paid him well and the drugs earned him more. He lived in a comfortable flat with his dog and got to party every night for a living.

Granted, he did occasionally wish that he could be the one partying, but that was what nights off were for. Anyway, the bruising that he got to do for his side business helped alleviate some of his more violent tendencies. Hadn’t his father pointed out that he hadn’t gotten into a pub fight in a while? 

Fuck the therapy his parents were always pushing on him, he found this to be a much better way of dealing with his troubles. His current therapist was a certified idiot anyway. If it weren’t for his parent’s conditions after the last time they bailed him out, he probably would have ditched the man ages ago. 

Ducking into the alley that led to the back of the club, he paused outside the door and took a moment to sip at his coffee. In his peripherals he noticed a figure heading toward him and he simply figured it was another one of the strippers arriving early as well. “Better not hog that stage,” he said, not bothering to look up. “I need to practice a few sets before anyone else hops on that pole.” 

Walden loved pole dancing. He was particularly good at tricks, practicing helped ease his somewhat noisy and chaotic thoughts. Therefore, the pole was something he was particularly protective over and preferred to have it all to himself while he was practicing, rather than having to share. It was why he had arrived early that day, so he was a little annoyed to discover that someone else had a similar thought.

[vermiculus-incipiens]

  VI Quote of the Week:

He grinned at her, wonky teeth on show just for Lily, “You’re a powerful witch so we’ll learn it. Together.” He swung his arms a little as the pair walked, confident in his secondhand knowledge and destiny, which would of course include Lily. The two of them would make history, he was sure of it.                                                       -- notlibatiusborage, Expedition: Hogwarts

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Backing out of the clearing so that he could hang around the edges of the giants without drawing anymore attention, he motioned for Igor to do the same. If they overstayed their welcome, they were sure to be killed either on purpose or by accident. Giants didn’t care much for being careful where they stepped.                                                         -- apromisetoeveryone, A Giant Problem

“As for the man who’d blown off his arse, it was a messy situation to say the least. When we brought him in for questioning later, the healers managed to put most of it back I think.” He grinned, adding, “But he had a special pillow so that he wouldn’t sit lopsided.”                                               -- head-auror-moody, Sun-Filled Days of Youth

It wasn’t like the Dark Lord had brought the giants all the way here from Bulgaria just to use once and then banish them back to their homeland. No, Igor suspected that he and Macnair would be stuck as the giants’ minders for a long time. The thought made him sigh. He wished he could be banished back to his homeland.                                                      -- karkaroff-silvertongue, A Giant Problem

[cherrybomb-witch]

Walden the Lovely || Marlene & Walden ||.

@apromisetoeveryone

Time: Sometime at night.

Location: Some bar.

What kind of drunk Marlene McKinnon was depended solely on the reason she had started to drink in first place. Was she at a party? Hanging out with her friends? Then she was the happy drunk, that sexy and slightly goofy girl than danced on top of a table with a stranger. The soul of the party.

Then, there were those times in which she drank alone, on the stool by the bar, feeling shamelessly sorry for herself and life in general, staring at the bottom of her glass and contemplating the possibilities of her own self-destruction. The miserable drunk. Sadly...this type of drunk was becoming more and more recurring in those lonely heart nights. She was painfully aware of the pity she inspired on others (including the damn bartender) , but the truth was that at least by being miserable in public, she avoided the temptation of spinning further down the whirlwind , with much worse results. Wouldn’t she know.

She just wanted out. A break from it all: the war, her family, her feelings...she wanted it gone, shut out, quiet. It had been so long since she had last had some bloody fucking quiet in her soul. She felt like the world was cornering her to the edge of the pit she was constantly crawling out of only to fall back in, nails bloody, scraped knees, light out in the eyes. She wanted to scream, but the choking grey feelings inside of her, turning darker and darker by the minute, simply would not let her. So she tried downing them with alcohol, like she always ended up doing. So far, the bastards had learned to hold up well, unfortunately.

The petite blonde was contemplating the possibilities of another shot of firewhiskey, when someone took the seat to her right. Marlene sighed, knowing that this person had to be someone obnoxious enough if they had failed to notice she wanted no one near her at the moment. She half turned to encourage them to get another bloody seat, but stopped on her tracks. Unfortunately, no amount of alcohol could make that person unrecognizable to her eyes. The witch groaned and rolled her eyes. Of all people...Walden fuckin’ Macnair.

“Oh, fuck. Just what I needed to crown a bloody glorious week” she scoffed, aware that she was too drunk to simply stand and walk away “What the Hell do you want? A discussion on griffon rights or the correct safety policies of handling an axe?” Not her smoothest insults, but then again, very little of her was smooth at the moment, besides her skin.

[atwistedoldfriend]

Riddles for a Dirty Mind || Evan & Walden

apromisetoeveryone replied to your post: I go in hard. I come out soft. You blow me hard....

I have a hint in my pants if you’d like to see it.

“Pffft. That’s where my mind went, but its not the right answer.” He waggled his brows and added, “I don’t have to blow hard to be successful after all.”

[perennialgrace]

Stood Up ~ Jan 11th, 1980

The sun had just finished setting by the time Daisy arrived in the Leaky Cauldron. She paused in the doorway, her gaze scanning the room for Tilden; she was a few minutes late, so he was probably here already. A cursory glance didn’t find him, though, nor did a more thorough one. Frowning faintly, she took a seat at the bar, facing the door so she could spot him when he came in.

Not bothering to take her coat off— they weren’t staying in the Leaky Cauldron, they would be heading into Muggle London as soon as Tilden arrived— Daisy checked her watch. He was only five minutes late, at worst, and she could hardly be cross about that given that she had been four minutes late. It was just a bit weird, he was always on time for their dates.

Soon it was ten minutes late, though, and then twenty, and knots began to form in Daisy’s stomach. Where was he? He’d never been so much as thirty seconds late before. Not for her, at least. She twisted her gloves around in her hands, trying not to overreact or jump to conclusions— conclusions like he just doesn’t care as much anymore. Was she being stood up? No— no, he was probably still at work or distracted with one of his plants at home, or he might be on his way right this second. Or maybe he wasn’t coming— no, no, he’d be here.

The bartender asked, for at least the fourth time, if she was going to order anything, so she got a butterbeer, hoping very much that she wasn’t going to have to drink it because Tilden would soon show up and then they’d be off. She was taking him on the tube, something she’d been threatening promising since their first date, and then they were going to go to this lovely little Italian restaurant in Bloomsbury…

Five-twenty became five-thirty, then quarter to six. Maybe she’d gotten the time wrong, she thought; maybe they were meeting at six. But six came and went and soon it was quarter past and he wasn’t here. She stared down into her half-finished glass, fighting the sudden urge to cry. He wasn’t really standing her up… was he?

[strikes-goyle]

Babysitting Trolls|| Walden & Ramsey (and baby)|| June 1st, 1980

The trolls came bounding in from all directions. Ramsey had never seen so many before, especially not clustered in one place. In year 1 it was a very common insult to be called a ‘troll,’ which Ramsey had been the butt-end of many times. Seeing them now was part comical- part terrifying. The sheer size and mass of them shook the Earth whenever they walked. And the clubs swung around idiotically with no particular pattern or target. That being said, you get a group of goofy -looking trolls together and its as though you’ve been shrunk down a size in the crib of a nursery school. 

Ramsey instinctively gripped the round bulge that was resting in the middle of his chest. His robes were long and baggy enough to hide the figure underneath them, but that didn’t stop Ramsey worrying about it. The baby was out, under the influence of a heavy sleeping draught that would have been strong enough to probably knock out one of these trolls. It wasn’t right to drug a baby, then again, he didn’t really see it as “drugging,” more so just preventing disaster. 

––//––

“You’re not leaving this house without him.” Charlotte warned, following hot on Ramsey’s heels as he tried to grab his robes. She swatted his hand away mercilessly and Ramsey recoiled, shaking out the sting. 

“I’ll watch ‘em tomorrow. I promise...” He pleaded with her, reaching to grab her waist. 

“No Ramsey...” She was ready to beg and her crazy hair and red eyes were proof of it. “You went out with him last night. You’re just going to sit over there and drink... Pleasssee..”

Guilt welled in his gut and he looked away. He hadn’t known till this afternoon what was going to be happening tonight. If he had, he sure as hell would have saved his night out for tonight. 

“I promised Crabbe...” He tried weakly, searching for something else to say. He couldn’t tell her the truth. That would lead to more questions and answers and more answers. She’d leave him. He’d never see Greg. His mind started to spiral making it even harder to think of a way out. 

Charlotte saw her chance. She grabbed his robes and started dressing him. “Just go, bring him along.... He’ll be asleep in no time and you can drink with Crabbe. Put the baby down beside Vinny...” The sleeplessness had taken all the fire and fight from her, she was ready to plead with him.

Ramsey didn’t respond and Charlotte took it as a ‘yes,’ running to the crib and picking up Greggy. She grabbed the bag and started pushing Ramsey to the door. 

“Just a short while.... Only a little while...” she repeated mindlessly, handing the baby over. 

Ramsey was a panicked Centaur in the city. He snatched the baby carrier and was about to try for one last time, before the door shut in his face, taking his nose with him. 

“Bollocks.” he muttered, staring down at Greg, who giggled and tried to grab Ramsey’s prickly chin. 

––//––

Ramsey’s hand stayed at his chest, holding the baby’s neck and cradling his head. A troll caught sight of him and bounded forwards. He barely had time to pull his wand before a club swung to knock him off his feet. Ramsey ran, pushing a screaming muggle woman out of his way–– she unfortunately caught the club in the gut and went flying. 

“Sorry!” He yelled instinctively, feeling like a git. 

@apromisetoeveryone

[charity-h-burbage]

{OOC}

IT’S CHRISTMAS Y’ALL

And so I come bearing Secret Santa gifts for MEEVE!!

@edgarbonesknows @apromisetoeveryone

Since I did a playlist for each of your characters, I decided to post it to the dash. I hope you like them!! Merry Christmas, Meeve, I hope you have a lovely holiday and a wonderful new year. I wish you nothing but joy and comfort, now and forever. Thanks for being such an amazing admin and all around perfect person!!

This is Walden’s playlist!

And this is Edgar’s!

(Let me know if the links don’t work, I’m pretty sure I’ve done it correctly but I can fiddle with it if I haven’t!)

[crabbeapple]

Darkest Hours || Sep and Walden || May 23-25, 1980

Date: May 23rd, 1980 Location: Muggle London @apromisetoeveryone

The sun was in its dying hours, a searing line of light over the buildings of Muggle London, minutes away from sinking out of view. Soon the city would be swallowed up in twilight. It had been a warm, drizzly day that had faded into a chilly, wet evening and the street lamps glowed in pale halos of misty air.

Night had come early in Hyde Park, where the shadows of the trees stretched long and dark, enveloping the grassy lawns. It wasn’t pleasant weather for loitering or late picnics and the park was mostly empty.

Septimus Crabbe was happy -- or as close as he could be to happy at the moment -- for the solitude. He lay on a bench, ignoring the damp soaking through the clothes on his back, smoking and staring up at the darkening sky above. Smouldering cigarette butts littered the ground beneath the bench.

Solitude aside, he wished Ramsey was here. He wished Ramsey wasn’t being so weird. He’d been off with him for days now, ever since the night they’d killed Kelly. Sep didn’t know why. The mission had been a success. They’d gotten away with it, the Dark Lord had been pleased and to top it all off, they were off one less pretentious asshole in the world. It had been a victory. Yet Ramsey didn’t act like it. He’d been angry and even more paranoid than usual, closing himself off from Sep more than he had in a long time. Even the birth of Ramsey’s long-awaited son didn’t seem to have fixed things, though it was at least enough of a distraction that Sep could pretend that everything was alright. Most of the time. In any case, Ramsey had far too much on his plate at the moment to be out here in the dark with him.

Which was a real flaming pity, Sep thought now, glaring up at the purpling clouds overhead. Because Septimus Crabbe could really use a friend right now.

He tossed another spent cigarette aside and dragged a hand over his face. Merlin’s beard, he was tired. His fingers paused at the tacky feel of blood. His nose had stopped bleeding ages back, but he’d only haphazardly tried to swipe away the mess. A couple of simple spells would do the trick, of course, but he’d not yet raised his wand to heal the bruises nor clear away the blood. It would feel too much like hiding. Like giving in.

Footsteps reached his ears and he sighed, digging through the packet of cigarettes resting on his chest and lighting up another without bothering to look up at the newcomer. He was in Muggle London and he had his wand in his pocket. Whoever it was, they weren’t a threat.

“This part of the park’s taken, mate,” he said, flicking the cigarette and watching the tip of it glow to life. He liked this brand for the self-lighting charms cast on them. Convenient, without being crude enough to catch themselves alight when they shouldn’t. “Piss off and find your own spot.”

[a-proper-pureblood-blog]

Polite Reminder || Lucius & Walden || Jan 14th, 1980

Lucius couldn’t even begin to think of a word that described his rage right now. It made him shake, he was so angry. He was furious that this had happened, and the cause of it made him even more angry. Walden Macnair that sick son of a bitch. The man came after his wife just for his own twisted amusement. Lucius wanted to murder the man; he wanted Macnair dead. But that was too far; he knew though he’d feel vindicated, it all wouldn’t be worth it. 

So he wouldn’t kill Walden. But he certainly wanted to leave the man within an inch of his life. He’d never quite liked Walden, but now he had all the reason to despise the man’s every breath. Lucius could only be thankful that Narcissa and their child were relatively unharmed; she was shaken from it all, but would pull through. He’d fussed over her for hours until he was finally convinced she would be alright alone. 

No sooner had he left his wife to rest had he apparated from the manor. Lucius found himself in Knockturn Alley, sneering at anyone who got in his way as he quickly made his way down the streets. He knew it shouldn’t be too hard to find Walden; there were only so many pubs for the man to hide away in. 

Quite a while and a number of less than reputable establishments later, Malfoy found himself walking into another dingy pub. Scanning about the dim bar, his eyes fell on exactly who he was looking for-Walden Macnair. Lucius gripped the figurehead of his cane tightly; it took quite a bit of restraint to not hex the man from across the room. Instead, he strode over and stood himself next to Walden, scowling down at the man in his barstool. 

“Well, if it isn’t just the man I’m looking for. Macnair-We have some business to discuss, if I’m not mistaken...”

[vermiculus-incipiens]

VI Quote of the Week:

Marlene could feel the antipathy just oozing from every pore of Severus Snape’s skin and it was making her own skin curl with a sudden itch to hit him over the head with a roll of parchment, hoping that might knock some cooperation into him. She could understand not everyone shared her enthusiasm for animals, or Care of Magical Creatures, or working in pairs; but his attitude was just borderline ridiculous. What was the need to be such a glass of curdled milk?                                                 -- cherrybomb-witch, The Murtlap Experience

Admin Picks of the Week:

Once she returned to the room carrying various boxes and some funny looking plastic stretch he had to stop himself from quipping about Petunia’s thoughtfulness. It wouldn’t do, continuing his antagonising tactics, even though it was just too easy, too natural, especially since his feelings towards Lily’s sister were definitely much more negative than they ought to have been. The constant reminder of her terrible behaviour towards Lily was igniting his protective instincts with such a strength that he sometimes felt like a final combustion was nearing. Not even a bunch of leftover cardboard boxes could change that, since he suspected it must have simply been easier to leave the unused ones behind.                                                                  -- on-borrxwed-time, To Remember

“Yeah, it’s the same Gurg as before. She’s still as enthusiastic as ever. Doubt they would have made it all the way here if she had died.” Not because Walden believed her to be a particularly strong leader, but more because he figured the giants would have given up on the Cause the second she wasn’t around anymore. They had small attention spans and little allegiance to humans. He was sure they would get bored of their travels if she wasn’t around.                                                         -- apromisetoeveryone, A Giant Problem

His attention was momentarily taken up with a customer nearby, and Daisy considered just darting away from him and losing herself in the crowd. But, well, in a fight or flight situation Daisy always picked the former. The security bloke— Moody? What kind of name was that? He was moody indeed!— was being rude and stupid and she was going to win this argument.                                                                         -- perennialgrace, Out of Place

[atwistedoldfriend]

The Trouble with Friends || Walden & Evan

Date: March 19th, 1980 Location: The Leaky Cauldron

For the most part, Evan was a homebody. He preferred the cleanliness and Spartan order of his home to the loud chaos of going elsewhere, but he’d learned the value of ‘socializing’. For him that did not also extend so much to actual conversations with others, rather he made a point of being seen doing ‘normal’ things. He dined out so that people would see him, creating a less anti-social picture of his behavior. He was a young, single man. It was expected that he would spend at least some of his time out and about.

Tonight was more about enjoying a quiet meal while he reviewed the information he’d been collecting on his latest chase. The Dark Lord was forever assigning seemingly random tasks. He chose to believe that each was part of a grander scheme, but it was getting more and more difficult to believe that any plan existed at all. He knew how blasphemous such thoughts were, but to be perfectly fair, he had never really been dedicated to the cause. It was a means to his own purpose and desires…most of the time.

He sighed and reached for the mug of cider he’d been nursing for the better part of the meal, nose crinkling as the bitter pungent flavor washed down his throat. He really wasn’t a cider fan. “Should have just stuck to my normal.” He muttered, pushing the mug away and picking up his fork to stab at wimpy fry so he could dip it in the ketchup.

[the-wolf-within-blog]

My Name Is Not “Kid”! || Remus & Walden AU ||.

☼ - Our characters have a child together

*Author’s note: No children were harmed in the making of this para xD

“Daddy...”

There was a warm, wet something tickling Remus’s nose, making him groan in his sleep and pull his arms over his face.

“Daddy...and I’m hungry and dad won’t make me breakfast!”

Whatever it was that was licking Remus’s face was not discourages by the barrier his arms created, and somehow managed to sneak their way under his elbow and start licking him again, this time at his chin. Remus frowned at the words that seemed to come from a young voice that was vaguely familiar.

“Mmmhm...Tell him to make you something to eat” he was only half paying attention to that voice. He reckoned that if he just gave it an answer it would go away and he could carry on sleeping.

“I already tried to, dad. But he won’t wake up! He told me to shut up and then he told me to feed the dog, but I don’t know where the food is, and then he shouted some really bad words at me that I am not allowed to repeat”.

“How rude of him...” Remus mumbled sleepily, pushing away whatever it was that kept licking his face and settling to carry on sleeping.

Wait. Who was rude? How come the voice kept responding back to him? And what on earth was licking his face!?

“What the hell!?” Remus Lupin woke up with a start and fell from the couch he’d been sleeping on (at least he guessed it was a couch). On top of him feel a dog that blinked at him with shiny eyes before settling back beside a pair of small feet. Rubbing his eyes furiously in an attempt to get rid of the sleep in them, the young werewolf pushed himself to a sitting position, blinking at the child that was staring down at him.

Short little thing, couldn’t have been older than eight, with limbs as skinny as twigs. Remus studied the kid’s dark curls and olive skin, and the most black eyes he’d ever seen, and recognized absolutely nothing. The child was smiling somewhat shyly done at him and Remus had not a single clue of who the bloody fuck this kid was.

“Who..?” he didn’t finish the question, closing his eyes as a sharp pain wrapped around his head. Remus pressed the palms of his hands against his eye sockets. Merlin’s balls. What. Had. They. Put. In. That. Drink.

When he opened his eyes again, the kid was still there, as was the dog. Suddenly, Remus was assaulted with the sensation that perhaps...perhaps they were not a hallucination after all. He reached out and pinched the kid’s hand lightly just to be sure. The child emitted a sharp yelp of surprise and yanked his hand away.

“Ah! Hey! That hurts!” he protested in a bird like voice.

Grabbing onto the couch behind him for support, Remus finally managed a standing position, and he studied his surroundings. The room did not look familiar at all. There was a window, but the view it offered meant little more to him. There was nothing to possibly indicate him of his whereabouts. 

“I must be dreaming. A very, very realistic dream” he thought, shaking his head as he tried to sort out last night in his mind. Maybe then he might figure out why he’d woken up in someone’s couch, in a place he did not recognize, with a dog he’d never seen before licking his face, while an eight year old child he was definitely not related to called him father.

“Dad!” the boy’s tone got more insistent, snapping Remus out of his own stupor “Could just please wake up Dad and ask him where the dog’s food is!?”

Remus blinked at him “Who is this Dad you keep talking about!?” he had no idea what on earth was going on, but if the kid’s words were to be given any credit, there was a third person involved in this...this insanity, and maybe they had more answers than Remus could possibly start figuring out by himself. Rolling his eyes, the kid grabbed Remus’s hand and dragged him past several doors. The werewolf was too dizzy and confused to pay attention to anything around him, only aware of the dog following behind them, and of the unwelcoming weight in his stomach that was threatening to move upwards. The last thing he needed was to throw up.

The kid led him into another room. In that room there was a bed. There was a man sprawled on that bed. Still rubbing one of his eyes, Remus got closer to have a better look at the man’s face. 

He almost fell flat on his ass. The man he recognized. Walden Mcnair. He hardly knew him at all, but even if he did, he doubted he and Walden would’ve ever been friends, let alone drinking buddies. The man had a pretty crude personality. 

So why on bloody earth was he there as well!?

“Well, there’s clearly one way to find out, genius” his throbbing brain mocked at him. Remus would’ve snapped at it to shut up if it wasn’t because his brain was right. Extending a hand, he poked at the other man’s arm.

“Er...Walden? Mcnair....Mcnair...wake up” since poking wasn’t really working, Remus changed his tactic and pinched the man’s skin instead, hard enough to leave a red mark “Wake up”.

That seemed to do the trick. At least the man groaned, giving signs that he was actually alive.

“Wake up. You’ve gotta explain what the fu”-he remembered the kid in the room and restrained himself from swearing-”What one earth is going on here”.

“And where Rufus’s food is!” added the little boy.

“Yeah, he wants to...” Remus shook his head and looked over his shoulder at the boy “I’m sorry, but who are you!?”

The kid stared back at him as if he was stupid, or had sprouted a second head. Or both. Finally, he took one deep breath and blurted out in once sentence:

“My name is Xander Brick Brice Michelangelo Mcnair-Lupin, and I am your son”.

Remus jaw dropped and this time he couldn’t hold back the words.

“What the fuck!?”  

[crabbeapple]

apromisetoeveryone replied to your post: Ever consider fucking a man?

Just drunk thoughts, eh? Maybe I should start ordering you some drinks then.

Oh fuckin’ hell...

What is it with you, Macnair? You got some sixth sense or something? You always bloody turn up whenever you’re not wanted!

[nott-my-fucking-problem-blog]

Hell Is Empty And All the Devils Are Here || William & Walden || October 31st, 1978 || Trick or Treat

DATE: October 31st, 1978

TIME: 7:15 PM

LOCATION: London

“May I ask you a question?” William eyed his partner curiously and continued without waiting for an answer. He was blunt like that, if he wanted to know something, he asked. More than once he’d shocked people with this blatant disregard of boundaries, but he couldn’t care less. William was far past caring about what people thought of him.

“Whatever makes one think ‘You know what I’d really like to do with my life? Execute beasts. That sounds like fun.’ I mean, you usually do that in your free time and call it hunting. And you can’t tell me that you can actually live of that, can you?”

There was no venom or mockery in his voice, just honest curiosity. Will didn’t know much about Macnair, he’d been too young to interest him in school and the only times they crossed paths was at Death Eater gatherings or on missions.

There was a reason why they had been paired off together today, Will was sure of it. One of them was being tested and it was most likely not Macnair. The Dark Lord was monitoring Will closely; it was as if his watchful eye was following him everywhere, watching his every move. He’d already wavered at Great Ormond Street Hospital, he couldn’t afford to show weakness again. Will couldn’t fail today.

This first part was easy. Catch as many  children as possible and deliver them to the rendezvous point. However in order to keep a low profile, they couldn’t just grab them off the street and risk them screaming for their parents. They’d have to lure them away carefully, without attracting attention. Will could do that. He was good with children. The trick was not thinking about what was going to happen to them later on. Any maybe keep Macnair in the shadows. That one didn’t exactly scream ‘trustworthy’.

“Alright, listen, here’s what we’re going to do:” Will said, automatically taking charge. It wasn’t even a real decision, more a subconsious reaction based on what he’d been taught his whole life. He was older, had followed the Dark Lord for longer and his bloodline was purer and far more prestigious. It was just natural for him to assume leadership and he just as naturally expected his orders to be followed.

“We don’t take more than one child from each group, that way it’ll take longer for them to notice one’s missing. We’ll approach them where they’re close to back alleys so we can make them disappear quickly. Concentrate on the younger ones, no one older than six or seven, at that age they start to get suspicious of strangers. The best way to get their attention is by promising them sweets or small fuzzy animals. Kittens, puppies, bunnies and the like. No unicorns or nifflers, remember, muggles don’t know those. Most important thing is to keep it simple and be quick and organised. Anything else?”

[besnatched]

tell me ;)

atwistedoutcast:

If you snuck into my room I would:

[  ] Go back to sleep                 [x] Kick you out[  ] Cuddle with you                   [  ] Be like “How in the world?”[  ] Let you sleep on the floor    [x] Become angry

If you kissed me (or hugged) I would:

[  ] Kiss or hug you back                       [  ] Smile and laugh[ x ] Stiffen, and feel uncomfortable        [ x] Push you away[x ] Be shocked                                       [  ] Strike you

If you asked me to go out with you for a day I would say:

[  ] No          [  ] Yes          [ x] Most certainly not.          [ ] Without hesitation.

You are:

[  ] Cute          [  ] Adorable          [  ] Attractive          [  ] Beautiful[  ] Okay         [  ] Ugly                 [ x] Am not going to grace this with an answer

You are to me a:

[  ] Stranger          [x ] Acquaintance          [  ] Ally[  ] Friend              [  ] Love                        [ x ] Rival [ x] Enemy

I find you to be:

[  ] Pathetic          [  ] Off no consequence          [ x ] Intriguing [ x] Frightening     [ x ] Unsettling                          [ x ] Annoying [ x ] Infuriating       [  ] Pleasant company            [  ] Comforting [  ]  Unable to be lived without                            [  ] Trustworthy

(- Based of askboxmemes’s post.)

[vermiculus-incipiens]

VI Quote of the Week:

Unfortunately she wasn’t quite quick enough to launch into the story she’d settled on— her half-brother’s latest outburst of magic involving a running jump down the stairs that nearly ended very badly. Tilden still seemed to be quite engrossed in the subject, musing aloud on— well, the exact thought she’d been having a few moments earlier, that Tilden was the same age as James and Lily, who were parents now.  She was certainly glad that Tilden seemed as incredulous about it as she was, but it still wasn’t a thought she particularly wanted to dwell on.                                                               -- perennialgrace, Sharing Scars

Admin Picks of the Week:

Steam clouded his vision as he made his way toward the club, a coat hugging his hunched shoulders as he squinted in the sunlight. It was becoming evening, but the sun was still hanging low in the sky. As someone who worked evening shifts, he wasn’t used to being out during the day very often and found he enjoyed the night life much better anyway. If he could avoid the sun altogether, he was sure he would be much happier.                                                     -- apromisetoeveryone, An Early Night

He did his best to push out the gore and blood. Somehow, it seemed like a more difficult task than it had been before. You’re getting weak, a voice jeered. He faltered for a moment, in a brief state of paralysis before recovering. He concentrated on his destination, and when he had enough of it pictured, he turned on the spot and disappeared with a crack.                                    -- head-auror-moody, Another One Bites the Dust

It was a bit awkward talking to someone or even looking at them from the particular laying position that James was in, but he could do nothing about except crane his neck to watch as Moody made himself somewhat comfortable in his hospital room. It was a nice gesture, he knew, having come for a visit, but James had quite a bit of a suspicion that the man himself was there mostly to interrogate him.                                                          -- on-borrxwed-time, When in Doubt