#i thought it would go the terribly cruel route but it went much much kinder and i'm going to roll up and daydream about it hfbvsh <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[keeps-ache]

they sanded that man..

[sparksinthenight]

I feel scared about posting this but the truth needs to be revealed.

So I just had a terrifying yet potentially revelatory nightmare.

Idk how to describe it. It was all very creepy. So, it was winter. But it wasn't how winters are out in the woods or the fields or anything, with everything being peaceful and friendly and full of life, the cold stirring up your energy and the ice bringing forth wonder. Nah, I love nature-winter, just as I love nature-summer and nature-spring and nature-fall.

But no this was city-winter. It was sharp and unforgiving and tinted dark with air pollution. The buildings were gray, the air was gray, the streetlights towered and cars sped by, leaving thick trails of smoke. Candy wrappers and cigarettes littered the ground and the sidewalk was frozen hard under your shoes. It was the kind of day unhoused people dreaded. The kind of day I would have had to suffer through wearing torn shoes and a too-thin coat while waiting outside at the bus stop. It was the kind of day where you really feel the effects of capitalism, in all it's uncaring nightmare glory, beating down on you.

I had just walked out of my school and towards the crowded bus stop at the end of the street. On my way, I met these two girls. They were very pretty but there was something off-putting about them. Something dangerous. They were handing everyone free money. Three dollars, in the form of a loony and a toony. They told me it was for a birthday, which was kind of weird but okay. I put the money in my pocket, beside my bus ticket, intending to give it to someone who needed it.

I joined the crowd that was  waiting for the bus. There were many people waiting anxiously for the bus to arrive. They were just as cold as I was, in pain in the frigid weather. This part of the dream actually doesn’t make sense in real life since other people waiting for the bus tend to have much better and more wether-resistant clothes than me. So they tend to not be cold in the ten-fifteen minutes at most that we have to wait. But for some goddamn reason today everyone was wearing shitty clothes made more for the autumn than the winter. Anyways, it gets worse.

I was waiting for the Number 6 bus. As I usually am. So were a lot of other people. As they usually are. But the first bus spend by us. The second bus was not in service. The third bus was on route to go to all the wrong places. We kept waiting and waiting and more buses passed us by. It was starting to get dark. We were cold. We were desperate. We could see the worry in each others’ eyes. We waited and waited until finally a bus came by. It was more of a van than a bus really. Small. But it it could take some of us. We all lined up, chasing the bus as it came to a stop, crowding around the edge of the sidewalk. We tried to all cram in there as much as we could. But the bus driver - a fat man with dark greying hair and amused eyes - sped away after only accepting two of us.

I was on the bus. I felt really bad that it had left my comrades behind. It wasn’t fair. But there was an energy of fear in the bus, sharp and sticky and cloying. Hidden by the uncharacteristicallly plush seats and the merry mood of the driver. I look around. The other people in the bus had anxiety in their eyes. But while talking to them they assured me that the bus would take us to our destinations.

The bus driver was jovial, in good spirits, and assured us he would take us where we wanted to go. For a while we drove by, familiar buildings passing by as we went down the well-known road. But then the familiar buildings became unfamiliar ones, increasingly unfamiliar ones as we twisted and turned through the streets. I was so lost. I had no idea where we were or where to get off. Eventually the driver took us to the arena district - which was the most posh entertainment district in the city, filled with very expensive clubs and bars and restaurants and casinos and stuff I didn’t even know. He made us get off of the bus into the cold, harsh, bitter and unforgiving morning outside.

His appearance had changed. He became tall and slender. The colour of his skin, hair, nails, everything, was the same colour as the winter outside. His dark eyes were full of cruelty, full of a raging, ferocious, corrupted hunger. Not the hunger of not having food, no. Not the hunger of actually being hungry. This was the hunger of wanting more, more, always more. Of never being satisfied. His nails were just a bit to sharp, just a bit too pointed, almost not human. His eyes were just a bit too dark, the colour a bit too indecipherable, and they were hungry, hungry, hungry. They were powerful. And they were raging. Inside him, you could tell, was a bottomless pit. One you could fill and fill and fill and fill and it would still be deep, and dark, and bottomless. His face was set in a cruel, severe expression. He didn’t look human. Not really. But almost. You could believe that he was human, if you only glanced over him. Not if you looked at him for a while though. If you focused on him, you could tell. That he wasn’t human. He was a black hole given human form.

He told us that we needed to work for him now. We needed to work to make him money. He told us that he must make money and we owe it to him to work. After all, he had so generously driven us. Never mind that he didn’t even drive us where we wanted to go, I thought but didn’t dare say out loud. None of us dared speak. We were all terrified of him. We were all acutely aware of the terrible and all-encompassing power he held over us. And we were all aware of the terrible and destructive rage he would fly into if we didn’t do as he said. We were all aware that we were stuck. And that he had powers we did not know. Even if there were no walls, no fences, no chains binding us. Even if we could technically make a run for it. We couldn’t. He would kill us. We knew that money was what he hungered for. Money was what he used to fill the ever-continuing, ever-reaching, ever-growing abyss inside him. We knew that he had a dark and twisted desire, a cold and cruel desire for money, money, more money. Consuming like  some sort of demon. Which we was. No, he was worse. Demons weren’t real. There was nothing not real about him. He said that we had to do the jobs he told us to do. It was freezing and we were cold, cold, cold. But we were terrified. He told us that we had to do repairs and other maintenance around the arena district. We had to repair the tall, shining, artfully architected buildings that people spent their Friday evenings and weekends at. We had to keep the district up and running. Keep it pretty and beautiful as it shone full of metal and stone and glass. We had to serve him. And line his pockets. Nobody could see us. Nobody could hear us scream. Not unless we got away from him.

He put us to work immediately. We had to scale the large, spiralling buildings without any protective equipment. We had to work up there perching on the ridges and folds

... I’m too terrified to write any more. I don’t know what about this dream scared me so much but I am so fucking terrified and I need to take a moment before I go on ...

I think I should describe the district. Most of the buildings were really new-age. They had walls and roofs that curved and folded and bent over themselves and twisted and spiralled and rolled like hills. It was all very artistic. It was all very materialistic. It was all very decadent and opulent. There were tall buildings that stretched up into the sky and wide buildings that sprawled out across multiple blocks, connected by twisting, glittering interior bridges. There were glittering and polished windows. Often the windows were from floor to ceiling. Often the windows took up the space of the entire wall. Often the walls were made of glittering metal. A very popular way to gild walls was with folded, overlapping panels of shiny silverish metal. There were also many buildings built with the straight edges and straight walls of the slightly older building style. They were all very tall, very straight, very imperious, as they stretched up towards the cloud-swamped, softly glowing sky. They were very clean. They had large windows, the bottom floors always being made of looming floor-to ceiling windows that were clear as crystal. They had many ledges and ridges. Like I said before all the metal was shining silvery-grey, sometimes more silver and sometimes more grey. But always so very clean. Sometimes it was reflecting like a mirror. Sometimes it was had such a certain lustre that it almost glowed. Sometimes it almost had a sickly yellow tint. Sometimes it had a blue tint. Sometimes it even managed to have a pink tint. The stone, on the other hand, used in buildings, was imperious gray, jet black, shimmery brown, blood red, rich maroon, light creme, or even sometimes granite. Everything was so opulent. Everything was so rich. Everything was so oppressive.

The atmosphere was oppressive and heavy and it was dark and twisted. The surroundings held no life in them. Not any of the spark of life and kindness that lit up the kinder parts of the world. The air was polluted, polluted, oh so polluted. Everything was heavy and pressing. The world, the world around us was uncaring, apathetic, twisted, dangerous, and cruel. It was almost suffocating. An air of danger, hung thick all around. An air of terror, of unholiness, of corruption pressing and swirling in the weight of the air all around. It was claustrophobic despite - no because of - the grand scale of everything.

We couldn’t take in the “beauty” of it. We couldn’t notice any of the grandeur. It mattered not to us but rather passed by beyond our reach.

We were too busy being tired, sick, aching, scared, and cold in our hearts and in our bodies and in our minds. We were too busy being caught up in work, work, work. We were too busy pushing ourselves forward in the repetitive, agonizing, mind-numbing labour we were forced to do. We were too busy freezing and ignoring how we were freezing. We were too busy feeling our life force drain from us. We were too busy being tired, body and soul, and ignoring the tiredness in order to make him more and more and more money. We were too busy trying to ignore how our arms and legs and everything ached. We were too busy pushing ourselves to do dangerous work and feeling how it felt to not know if you were going to die or not. We were too busy not having anything. We were too busy being exploited. We were too busy slowly dying. We were too busy feeling pain and fear and death. Death hung over us ever-present.

He sent us up buildings, to scale walls and stand on ledges and balance on folds and whatnot, shining and cleaning and repairing without any safety equipment. We had no nets or harnesses or anything to protect us from falling. We had no helmets or any other protective gear. We had no warm clothes to protect us from the majority of the winter’s chill. We had to work, work, work at a brutal, frantic pace, pressing our hands and bodies onto the cold of the stone and metal and glass.

I remember being up high, on top of the curve of a folded, new-age wall. Straddling the curving slope on either side. I had a bucket of cold, soapy water that was making my hands burn but I had to clean the building. All the while making sure I didn’t fall off and die. I remember hating it so much and feeling myself die. But I was trapped in a crystal of his corrupted making. I couldn’t do anything.

The people entertaining themselves and going about their day in all the bars and restaurants paid no attention to us, to our misery. They couldn’t see us and even if they could they wouldn’t care. They had cushy, intellectual day jobs that paid well, that they did in the safety of an office, that they pretended to hate so they could justify their lavish spending habits. Meanwhile the monster was getting richer and richer. And still he wasn’t satisfied. He was never satisfied.

Every time we finished a job we had to come to him. He sat ruler-straight, imperious, and ever hungry. And we were aching and tired and we just wanted to rest. But he didn’t care. He gave us no rest. He just gave us another job. And we had to go do it. We had no rest. No time to sooth our bleeding souls. No time to find some peace and calm. We only had the constant demand of filling his ever-expanding emptiness with coins that were as poisoned and tainted as he was.

We didn’t want to but we were scared of him, so scared of him, so scared about what he would do to us, what he could do to us. He was unholy, and his unholiness extended out to all the world around us, choking us, poisoning us, feeding off of us. But he was all-powerful. His corruption was everywhere. His spirit reached out in all directions like electric wire, watching us, keeping us in line.

I wanted to escape, to go somewhere I could call home. We all did.

I was picking up trash from the stone courtyard of a great library/movie theatre when I figured out. I was between the slanted walls of two cold, looming glass pyramids. Despite the fact that the public sidewalks were littered with trash, the grounds of private property had to be kept clean. It almost felt protected though, between those sloping walls that provided the illusion of privacy. I realized what he was. I realized what he was doing to us. I had felt my life force draining out of me bit by bit but I had never paid attention to it. I had never known why. But now I knew. I felt it. He was drinking us. He was draining our life force and turning it into corrupted money for him to consume. He was slowly killing us and soon we would be dead. I knew I had to escape. I knew we had to escape. But how? We had no power.

He made us gather around. He told us that if any of us gave him six dollars he would let that person go. But none of us had that kind of money. At most we had three dollars from the girls on the street corner but many of us didn’t even have that. I saw his offer clearly for what it was, a ploy to make himself seem good and reasonable while keeping us trapped in servitude anyways. He wanted to seem like he wasn’t interested in oppressing us, only in making money. But I knew how he was draining our life force for money. I knew how draining us and oppressing us was inextricably tied to his ability to make money.

I had to think of a plan.

One time I was working near the very edges of where he was keeping us trapped. I was separated from him by two walls made of rough stone. They were also granting me the illusion of privacy. On the ground I saw some coins. A toony and two loonies as well as a few quarters and nickels. I was shot through with amazement and hope. But upon closer inspection I saw that the money had the unmistakable quality of being tinged with the type of corruption that can only come from him. The money was unmistakably his. And this was a trap. Of course it was, it was too good to be true. Just a bit more than the money I needed to get free, and then some. He wanted me to pocket his change, to bring the money to him asking to be let go. And then he would accuse me of stealing and he would utterly destroy me. He would scrape the flesh off my bones and tear into my throat and drink my blood and bite into my bones and leave nothing left. Maybe he knew I was onto him. And he wanted to consume the last bit of me that he could. But still. I had to get free. I had to get free. I had to get free.

I pocketed the larger coins, too cautious to waste my time picking up the handful of smaller ones. He could come at any second. I did not intend to give him the money. But I knew that in this world, money was hard to come by and people could use it to keep themselves alive. I intended to give the money, along with the other money I already had, to someone who actually needed it. I don’t know what happened after that. Maybe the rebellious act of stealing had given me the power I needed to break out of the spell for just a little bit. But I just started running as fast as my legs could carry me. I ran and I ran and I ran through the forcefield that had been keeping us in. I knew I ignited his anger. I felt it the moment that I was free from the force field. So I kept running. My legs were sore and aching but they felt invigorated. My lungs were sore as I fought for every bit of oxygen I could get. I kept running and running until I reached my home.

For some reason my home was my science teacher’s house. Like, my science teacher from real life. I’ll tell you about her or else this part won’t make sense. In the “real” world, the world outside the dream, where you and me and everybody lives out their waking lives, this woman was my science teacher and now she teaches other people. I’m not going to tell you what year she taught me because on the off chance that she ends up reading this it would be incredibly awkward for her to know that she saved me from a capitalism demon in a dream that I had. Anyways, she really likes nature and really cares about the environment and taught me a lot of what I know about climate activism and stuff. She’s also really nice to all her students and she’s a communist.

Anyways in the dream she was all of that and she was also my mother.

In the dream I ran to her. And she felt bright and new and green like nature-spring. I told her everything that had happened. She told me that she knew what kind of creature he was. She had travelled the world and heard many stories of what exists beyond the physical reality. He was a Capitalist, a terrifying and dangerous creature that had an everlasting hunger for money and grew fat from harvesting the life force of humanity. She told me she didn’t know how to get rid of him but that I must try, and I had her support.

I was scared. But I was also full of determination. I knew I had to end him. I had to end him immediately. I knew that I had a high chance of failing. A high chance of dying. A high chance of getting enslaved again and having my life force drained out of me. I did not care. I knew I also had a chance of killing him.

I marched up to him. He looked at me with his terrifying, dark eyes, and he snarled. I told him that if he wanted money he could come get the money. I held a toony up. He opened his mouth and rushed at me. But I jammed the coin into the roof of his mouth, making him bleed. He howled in pain as I jammed another coin into the roof of his mouth and two into the floor of his mouth, under his tongue. He howled in pain as he bled to death. And then finally, he was gone. Dissolved and carried away by the wind. Into nothingness. My friends were free! They were safe! They could go home and rest and live their lives as free people. They smiled and cheered.

But I still had the coins that I stole from him, which carried his corrupted essence. I was unsure of what to do with them. It was then that I realized. He might be gone but there were so many other creatures that were just like him. That were on the prowl. That were gaining power and draining their own victims and making the world what it was. We lived in hell.

I startled awake. Out of the dream. Into real life. I was so overwhelmingly scared. I tried really hard to forget about the dream, to stop thinking about it, to put it behind me. But I could remember his sharp teeth and his empty, abyssal eyes and his hard, uncaring expression. I felt his power all around me. And my heart thudded in my chest. He was coming to get me. He was coming to get me. He was coming to get me. But then I realized. That words have power. If I could explain to the world what happened, if I could explain what he was, what he did. If people knew about him. If more people knew. Then he would have less power. Then he would be foiled. I needed to fight him in real life, just as I had in the dream.

It’s true that I woke up terrified but I woke up safe. I woke up in a house that was mine despite not being the home I wished was mine. I woke up secure. So many people don’t. So many children wake up separated from their families all alone in dark rooms on hard floors. They’re all alone. They’re young. They’re small. They’re uncared for and unloved by all that surround them. They have no one they could call and no-one that would hear them if they did call. They have only their fear. Only their grief. Only their aloneness. They have no-one and they have to be quiet and not wake anyone. They can’t even cry. They can’t even scream. They have no-one to comfort them. No-one to help them. No-one that sees them as a person. No-one that sees them as a child. No-one who holds them and strokes their hair and tells them it will be alright. They just have to lie there silently, flooded with fear, silently trembling as they drown in their terror and grief. Young and already a victim of the system’s destructiveness, of the cruelty of the people who benefit from it.

And I know because I’ve met children like that. I’ve turned my nose up at them. I’ve stayed silent to their injustice. You don’t know what happens in places that aren’t the West. You don’t know what gets hidden and swept under the rug and never talked about and never taken seriously even if it is. We divide the world up into meet little categories that can easily be sorted. Put strangers in neat little boxes. Think that we can learn everything important about their whole lives from just a glance. We justify our wealth however we can. People are individuals not groups. 

[queenoftheimps]

Grindeldore Holiday Exchange Gift

A Grindeldore fic for @cinnamoncountess .  I hope you enjoy it! Title: The Sin of Leaving Word Count: 1958 Rating: T Warnings: Grindelwald being manipulative, mentions of Ariana’s death

 Gellert knows that, if the world ever hears of him and Albus, it’ll be Ariana’s death that they blame for the end of their romance.  The dead little girl on the floor, the first little martyr of his reign of terror. She’ll be the tragic symbol of what he would become, of the long line of dead witches and wizards killed in his campaign.

 In truth, Gellert sometimes wonders if his real sin was that he fled.

 ---

 He manipulated Albus terribly that summer.  Looking back on it, he cringes to think of how awful he was at the start.  In truth, when he first met Albus, he recognized a spark in him, a flash of brilliance that dazzled him.  But at that tender beginning, he still thought of him as merely a pawn to be played with, a small piece in the plans he’d make.

 When Gellert first kissed him, he played it off as a jest.  He’d known from the first time he met Albus that Albus wanted him as more than merely a good friend, even if Albus might not have realized it himself.  When he pressed his lips lightly to the other boy’s, Albus’ face immediately flushed red, his shoulders stiffening in a rictus pose. But still, he did not turn away or push him off, only looking at him in alarm when Gellert pulled away.

Really, that should have been when Gellert first suspected that he might fall for the poor boy.  There was such a swell of affection in his chest when he pulled back to see Albus and the genuine stunned look on his face, his pince-nez glasses tilted askew on his nose.  It had almost made him kiss him again.

 “Do the English not kiss their friends on the lips?” he asked, so innocently, so slyly, his head tilted so that his golden curls.  “You seem so astonished, Albus.”

Albus, for the first time since Gellert had met him, stammered.  “N-not usually, no.”

 “How curious,” Gellert said, and God, was he ever so terrible.  He bit his lip and looked at Albus ever so intently as he asked, “Then in that case, should I refrain from making you uncomfortable?”

“I didn’t say I was uncomfortable.”  The words came out so fast, so certain, so easily defiant.

 And like that, Gellert knew he could have him.  There was a flicker of triumph in him that was careful not to show in his expression. Instead, he leaned in again, kissing Albus once more, lingering a fraction of a second longer before pulling away.

 “I’ll see you soon, Albus,” he said, before making his exit, leaving Albus to dwell on the feel of their lips warm and pressed together.

 ---

 It was cruel of him, the way he plotted Albus’ seduction.  Even without asking, he knew that his dear friend had no romantic history, nor anything even approaching sexual experience.  He wondered if Albus had even really seriously considered that he might be interested in men before.  Gellert could all too easily picture him as one of those studious sorts who simply thought their lack of interest in women was because of their strict academic focus, not realizing the truth until someone like him crossed their paths.

And oh, did Gellert take advantage of that.  As he and Albus spent more time together, learning more of each others’ thoughts and plans, he quickly picked up ways to sway the older wizard to his liking.  If a comment of Gellert’s was deemed too much, too far, too brazen, a hand on Albus’ wrist might be enough to distract him from protesting too deeply.  He deftly drew Albus’ attention with the brush of his fingers, with an arm around his back, with his body leaned in just a little too close as they studied a scroll or scrawled over parchment.

 And of course, the kisses continued.  It wasn’t very long before Gellert abandoned any pretense of mere polite greetings, each press of his mouth a full expression of desire.  There were moments at the start where Albus seemed hesitant, but only a handful, and then he met Gellert with open enthusiasm, his fingers twining through Gellert’s curls and his lips parting with a soft sigh to receive him.

 Gellert waited until one night when he was sitting in the warm, plush armchair of his room in Aunt Bathilda’s guest room.  He had Albus in his arms, Albus’ forehead leaning into his shoulder, the older boy content and nearly asleep after a long night of frantic study.  A kinder, more responsible boy might have let him fall asleep, or gently reminded him to go home to his siblings.  Instead, he murmured quietly, “I’ve been thinking, Albus.”

“Mm?” Albus said, his eyes only opening halfway.

 “If we’re to be completely united as rulers of the new wizarding world,” Gellert murmured, his lips brushing Albus’ hair as he spoke.  “We should be completely united, yes?  Mind, and body, and soul.”

“...yes...?” Albus said, his voice suddenly shy, his mind racing ahead to the possibilities hidden behind the question.

 “Good,” Gellert said, as if Albus had agreed to every thought that had run through his head. “Tomorrow, then.”

And he gently extracted himself to let Albus imagine what, exactly, Gellert had planned for him.  

 Gellert knew it would keep Albus up at night, the thoughts and imaginings of what he would do.  How his hands would feel, how his body would look, the way Albus would feel as he came undone with every touch.

 If he were wiser, he might have noticed how much time he spent doing the same.  How he fell asleep that night with dreams of Albus running through his head, convinced he held complete sway over the boy who was never far from his thoughts, whose face lingered behind his eyelids when he drifted to sleep.

 When he took Albus to bed the next night, it was exactly as he planned, with Albus nervous and eager and all too receptive to Gellert’s touches.  Gellert might have been thrilled at how easily won over Albus was, but instead, when he lay curled up against his naked body, all he could think of was how good it felt to be with him.

  --

 The revelation struck him like a stone to the chest one night as they lay in the grass by a creek.  His fingers twirled Albus' long hair, twisting it gently as Albus pointed out the stars, drawing the constellations with his hand and discussing every myth they'd been named for.  Gellert couldn't have cared less about the Greeks or the bow of Orion, but it became mesmerizing when the words poured off of Albus' tongue.

 He could listen to Albus ramble about anything he wanted for hours.  There was always a change in his voice when he got to talk about something that fascinated him, a tone of eagerness that Gellert had never heard him share with anyone but himself.  It pleased him, that he was the only one that Albus showed him this side to, that he was the only person who he could share his passions with.

 And then the realization came, first as quiet voice worming into his thoughts, and then a shattering crack through his worldview, bowling him over and knocking the breath out of him.

 Albus noticed when his eyes suddenly went wide, turning on his side to ask, "What is it?"

 "I love you."

 The words come out surprised, as if he can't quite believe it to be true.  For a moment, Albus just smiles, before answering, "And I love you."

 "No, you don't understand -" Gellert says, sitting up from the ground, leaning over Albus.  "I love you.  Do you know how marvelous that is?"

 He, Gellert, loved him.  Gellert, who to his bones knew he was a selfish, vain creature. He loved Albus, would listen to him speak for hours, would lay curled up against him every night for the rest of his life if he could.  They would make the world theirs together, not just Gellert's, not with Albus as some stooge or minion.  No, he wanted to share it with him completely, to break the world apart and hold it in their hands together as a pair, unstoppable and inseparable.

 Gellert's face breaks into a helpless, irrepressible grin, and a sense of helpless joy overwhelms him.  His hands grab each side of Albus' face so that he can kiss him deeply and eagerly and simply overjoyed.

 When he pulls away, the grin is still there.  "I love you," he says.  "I love you, and it's just extraordinary."

 He knows Albus doesn't understand, not entirely, but it doesn't matter.  Gellert kisses Albus again and Albus returns it, and everything is wonderful and perfect.

 --

 And then it all cracked apart into ruins.  The argument, the fight, the spells tossed back and forth.  Ariana's screams, and then her tiny body lying small and still on the floor.

 Gellert fled.  He ran to Aunt Bathilda's and took a Portkey back home and did not return.

 And truth be told, he thinks that that was where he failed.  He had Albus under his sway while he was there to breathe lovely words in his ear.  But words are a magic that only works if you’re there to weave it, and there was nothing of him left behind except a dead girl strewn across the carpet.

 --

 He wrote a letter to Albus two weeks after he fled.  While writing, he agonized over the parchment, knowing that everything had shifted and collapsed, that Albus’ eyes must be opened to the kind of person he was. And what an awful thing that was, for the boy he loved to truly know how terrible he’d been.

 In the end, he took the coward’s route, writing a note to Albus that acted as though nothing had happened, as if they were still close friends and Albus would join him any day.

 Gellert waited desperately for Albus’ response.  As much as it tortured him, he was not entirely surprised when it never came.

 He wrote again a few weeks later, attempting again to get a response. And then again a few weeks after that.  And then again a week after that one.

 Over the next year, he sent letters, the tone shifting drastically from message to message. Some pleading, some mournful, some angry, some vicious.

 The last one was sent nearly a year after Ariana’s death.  Gellert was drunk and spiteful and wrote his letters in a messy, looping script across the parchment.

 “I wonder, how much does it bother you that the genius Albus Dumbledore was seduced  by the same tricks that I’ve used to lure every bar maid in Europe to bed?”

After he sent the letter, he found a willing boy in a local tavern and spent a long evening pleasuring himself off of him before tumbling into drunken sleep.  He never wrote to Albus again, gently chiding himself every now and again for thinking about the boy he had given up when he was a teenager. As he grew older, sometimes he laughed to himself at how foolish his younger self had been, at how he’d been convinced he’d been in love when it was a mere youthful infatuation.

 --

 It wasn’t until that last fateful day of freedom that the denial fell to pieces.  Because when Albus appeared before him for their duel, beautiful and furious to behold, Gellert did not feel angry or hesitant or regretful.  Instead, his heart surged at the sight of him, thrilling to see his lover’s face once more.

 All he could think was, oh, Albus, I truly did love you, didn’t I?

[atopearth]

Shall we Date? Wizardess Heart Part 1 - Elias Goldstein Route

Lmaoo that the heroine sucks at doing magic on everything but animals haha! How cute. Lolol at the talking acceptance letter and the door with legs hahaha! So much trouble for her lol. That buddy system sure reminds me of the honey system in honey x honey drops lmaooo. Basically, story revolves around heroine being a transfer student to Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy and her life there learning magic and meeting her destiny ;)

Elias is kinda mean hahahah. But lolol at Yukiya not even remembering the heroine. So cruel loll. Heroine is so cute trying hard to make up for her mistakes though, lol. Seems that Elias is happy that she’s hardworking even though he thought of her as a dud buddy lol. Lmaoo at Elias’ number one fans hahahaha. They have their own little chant hahahaha. Lolol when she called him mean, stubborn and cold. He is though lmaoo. Poor heroine, but omg a laughing flower is hilarious!! Merkulova is such a wonderful teacher for encouraging the heroine to keep trying hard despite her failures though, so kind!! 

But yeah, kinda feel bad that she’s dragging Elias’ grades down… To the bottom as well!! You can see why he’s mad… But just as he has a reason to be at the top, the heroine also has a reason she wants to stay in this academy so really… It’s difficult to make everyone happy unless she improves… But it’s great that she’s trying her best and has seen Elias practising really hard as well. Guess that would motivate her as well since Elias is more about hard work than natural talent.

I can’t believe the heroine was really planning to try and steal the mirror! She could get kicked out of school man. Tbh, I’m starting to think Elias isn’t worth the effort lmao. It’s quite saddening to see Elias try his best but Luca squander around. But I guess they both have their respective reasons for acting that way. Elias’ fan club is so hilarious lmao, but yeah he’s pretty harsh lol. But it’s cute that he helped the heroine out of the situation from the fan club XD the professor is so suspiciously nice now lol…

Omgg when she dressed up and went to see Elias and he kinda complimented her, that was so adorable! Casual clothes really do open people’s eyes to beauty huh?! Aww the heroine is so cool for reassuring Elias that his true self perceived from the persona mirror is nothing to be ashamed of since everyone is like that. It’s true, everyone is trying to live up to some sort of expectations and trying their best to better themselves. Hahahaha when she turned the mirror to herself lmaooo. It’s like me 😂😂 all I care about is sleep and food and maybe my studies lmaoo. I wonder if that would be the true reflection of myself though haha. It was so cute that Elias laughed though but seriously, I feel like the heroine is always apologising lolll. Elias is so cute when he blushes though hahaha, it’s true that he’s mean but nice lolol. Guess they can finally get along and he can help her improve her magic. Lmao that carbuncle won’t let go of her. It’s so cute!! Not being able to sleep because you’re thinking about someone.. it’s love 😘 reminds me of high school hahaha. Lolol Elias thinks Carbuncle is cute too, he’s got a soft side lolol. To be honest though, like Luca, I wouldn’t want to see my true self with the mirror, that’s.. frightening.

Wonder what that song is though. So cute that the heroine refers to magical creatures as animals, they’re definitely similar enough hahaha. Lmaoo the grimoire is just as stuck up as the acceptance letter? The heroine’s so funny 😂 HAHAHA, she turned Elias into a boar piglet, he’s so adorable lmao, an angry little boar hahahaha. Lmao when she’s like I’ve never kissed anyone before (gotta do it to change him back) and he’s like, fine leave me like this, I’ll just live in the woods and eat leaves and bugs hahahahaha, poor Elias. He’s so embarrassed, it’s so cute hahaha. So cuteee how they’re both embarrassed in their own different ways 😂 I’m so happy that Elias is starting to mellow out, he’s become much kinder and accepting of different things that he used to think the heroine was dumb for. Now, he’s actually willing to lie on the grass with her! That’s improvement right there! He’s also so sweet that he’s finally opening up to her, it must be hard to be the only one in his family to not have innate talent for magic, he really does try hard though and the heroine is such a bright and warm girl, I’d like her too!!

Being a wizard for himself, rather than for his family huh? That’s definitely something he should do, especially since the heroine loves his magic!! Omg… They are so lewd, he wants to call her by her first name!! So lewd!! LOLOL. Jokes aside, they’re so cute and adorable like omg, they’re taking baby steps but because of how embarrassed and cute they are, those baby steps are like huge steps of improvement! Especially considering how Elias was before. Now they just need to kiss pls pls😂 hahahaha, he actually asked her if she’s in love with Luca! He’s so shy and cutee. Stupid Elias!! Don’t ignore her!! That’s so mean and cruel!! Just because he’s jealous!! Ignoring people on purpose is the worst!!😡 I know he feels inferior to Luca but seriously!! At least the heroine is proactive enough to chase after him but seriously..she always apologises even when it’s not her fault, it’s so unfair! Omg, my heart is breaking for the heroine. It is terrible to have to hear someone say they get irritated when they look at you. My heart literally broke for her. It’s like, I know what he means but if I was her and didn’t know, I’d probably cry too, that was so mean, Elias. I’m not happy!!😡

On another note, is carbuncle a robot and not an animal? It’s so alive and cute though~~ As for Elias, his mood swings though..lol. but it was nice for him to help the heroine during class and encourage her, that’s definitely something he never would have done in the past. Despite everything though, Elias was actually really adorable when he burst out laughing at the heroine and the talking grimoire fighting (library due date and him not wanting to be returned to that dusty library lmaoo)

Is the professor using the heroine to get to that forbidden tower..? Hahahah I still find it so hilarious how she’s friends with a talking book that doesn’t want to be returned because it’s boring in the library hahahah. HAHAHA OMG THE ACCEPTANCE LETTER IS HIS LITTLE BROTHER, THEY WERE MADE FROM THE BARK OF THE SAME TREE OMG, I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING 😂😂😂 

Elias is so cute, he disapproves of her going to the forest but can’t help but be worried so goes along to protect her, he’s such a tsundere. When she blocked an attack for him and he held her saying he didn’t want to lose her though… I felt a surge of emotions because I would have felt so sorry for him if she died like that. But it’s great that carbuncle was there to reflect the heroine’s healing magic back onto herself. That is definitely a solution I can accept rather than Elias somehow breaking free because of the power of loveeee or something. Elias was so cool when he was willing to jump after the heroine and cradle her in his arms as they fell. I can’t help but admire him for that. He’s a tsundere but he’s very devoted and loving. He really loves her. Omgg, the headmaster was that woman! Hahaha, he’s got a daytime and nighttime form! How cool though. I’m so glad that the heroine was gifted Carbuncle and the Grimoire, they’re both the headmaster’s but they both adore the heroine so much so they’ll definitely be happy with her. It was so funny when he told her that she can summon Carbuncles now and she tries to summon one but instead summons a mountain of them hahahah. She’s still as clumsy but as cute as ever. I wonder why Luca did all he did though… How adorable and funny that Carbuncle used the mirror on Elias so the heroine could know his true feelings lolol. But it’s really nice that besides the other potential love interests, the heroine has her roommate/best friend! She doesn’t appear that much but Amelia is really affectionate and kind so it’s always refreshing to see her help the heroine out and care for her.

HAHAHA when they kissed and the Acceptance Letter reminisced about how when he was young he once had a romance with Ms Art Book, omg I’m dying😂😂 I love all the weird things attached to the heroine hahaha, they’re all so funny and lively! Elias can be kinda annoying at times with how mean and tsundere he is but I think the grimoire, carbuncle and the acceptance letter really make this route super enjoyable, especially when Elias mellows out hahaha. I laughed so much in this route hahahaa.