Latest Posts by battle-scvrs - Page 3

If Fenrir were a different man, he might muse on the strings of fate that seemed to be drawing them together. He could dwell on the fact that many of their meetings had been entirely unplanned, that there were hundreds of areas of woodland in England and without discussion the pair of them seemed to end up in the same ones over and over again. But he was not a different man, and still he saw the relationship coming to an end eventually - either her family would grow bored of bothering Octavius and turn their attention to his witch, or Pandora would refuse to be turned into a wolf and so their relationship would draw to a close.

Fenrir shifted slightly so he could face Pandora properly, smacking a lazy kiss to her cheek. "I don't remember many happy Christmases. I remember them being magical when my mother was around, then when she was gone my father was just going through the motions. I want Magnus to know joy, I want him to feel wonder and delight when he thinks about Christmas. I want to be better for him than my father was for me," he said, the softness of the moment between them making him raw and vulnerable.

"Of course I have a gift for you," he said, setting his wand back on the side table once Pandora had plucked the box from the air. The small box contained a delicate chain with a crescent moon pendant - perhaps it was a little on the nose, but he wanted her to have something of him when they were apart. "You didn't have to get us anything, but thank you."

Pandora had spent time suppressing the feelings that she was developing for Fenrir. At times determined to keep distance between them, but in the end, it failed. She would find herself tucked away in the woods toying away her magic and he would appear. They were drawn to each other. "He should be spoiled rotten. It's the magic of Christmas. I loved it growing up." Then when she hit Hogwarts, things were different.

If she had only been daring enough to attempt a hex with her family, but there was this notion of how to conduct herself when she was around them. That the person Fenrir saw with him, smiling and free, it was different around her family. "I will have to remember that for next time."

There was a warmth that radiated off Fenrir when he held her close, in his arms she felt safe and cared for. "I would like to meet her too." She had no idea what the woman would think of her, but the way he described her, she came across has a strong independent werewolf.

He could have taken this conversation anywhere, part of her prepared for him to turn her down, but when he spoke about being hers for awhile, all doubt washed away. "I have been yours for awhile." This was shaping up to be one of the best Christmas' in a long time. "You have a gift for me?" Her body shifts, watching a present float towards them, reaching out for it. "What did you get me?" She starts to open it. "I have something for you and Magnus." It was something small.

If Regulus was deeply, truly honest with himself, he had never felt the level of devotion to the Dark Lord that other members of his family seemed to. He wasn't sure exactly how deep Cissa's devotion to the Dark Lord ran but he was loathe to ask the question, given he felt it would have landed him in this exact situation - staring across a table at Bellatrix. Bella's devotion to the Dark Lord was unrivalled, and her devotion to her remaining family members was also unquestionable but it was that intensity that had sent Regulus spinning away because he knew his own devotion did not go nearly as deep. His devotion to the Dark Lord came from a desperate need to please people, to be good and to be wanted. The more time that passed, the more obvious it was becoming that trying to please people was ripping him apart.

Refusing to flinch as Bellatrix snapped in his direction, Regulus narrowed his eyes, head tilting slightly as he considered her words. "Is it that the Dark Lord needs to know everything, or is it your desperate need for control over us, cousin? You want to keep me and Cissa close because you're scared, and it's....fucking hell, it's too much. I don't see what good the knowledge of my brief pause on a battlefield does for the Dark Lord, but I see what it is doing for you. I doubt you've even been to the Dark Lord at all with this information," he said coolly. "Fuck, Bella. What if I'm happy being low level cannon fodder? I don't need to be in the highest ranks, I've barely got enough time to cope with the amount of missions I'm being given as it is, between training and work. I'm just fine without additional responsibility," he snapped, hardly realising that he'd announced his lack of ambition without a second thought.

The tension in the room as they ate biscuits was so thick Regulus could have carved through it with a knife, but instead he chose to reach for another biscuit from the floating plate as Bella poured him more tea. His gaze was hard and firm as he watched her, not daring to take his eyes away for even a second.

Sighing heavily at her request, Regulus reached for his wand. He could demand that she vowed it to him, but he would take her word for what it was. The swiftness of her curse finally made him flinch away from his cousin, and Reg frowned deeply. The difference in their ability was palpable even now - her wordless curse had been explosive, and Regulus's verbal spell would not do anywhere near as much damage. "Avada Kedavra," he said, using his frustration with the afternoon's events to fuel the curse which he sent shooting at a marble bust on the other side of the room. "My avada is fine," he said, having always been adept with the killing curse. It did the least harm of the three unforgivables as it was quick and easy, and if he had to kill, he wanted to do it swiftly. "Like I said, Rabastan and I are working on the other two. My imperio is improving."

Bellatrix knew his struggles - some of them, anyway. They shared a sibling fleeing from the family. The Blacks were no saints, but they were an establishment with certain reputations to uphold, and since Sirius and Andromeda had pissed off without so much as a second glance, it was left to the rest of them to pick up the pieces. Bellatrix may have looked at Regulus and mourned the fact that he could never live up to his older brother. But even she could see the hypocrisy in her own attitude, knowing how her parents had turned to her and Cissa to compensate for Andromeda's loss. Bellatrix had always been too brash, too unruly. She had achieved much, but she would never be able to fulfil the role they'd wished for Andromeda. Her parents would get no well-behaved duty from her, only an unwanted warrior. She counted herself lucky for marrying Rodolphus - yet another act that her parents perhaps regretted. The Lestranges, at least, valued her true nature. So she saw Regulus's faults, but she didn't blame him for them. She only wanted to assist him, to ease his efforts. But the stubborn little shit kept pushing her away.

It did not take too much effort to maintain the icy silence. As flamboyant as she was, she knew how to strike fear into men's hearts. It was with the sudden dissipation of her extravagance. It was the calm before the storm, though in this instance, the tempest would not be too great. She was keeping herself on a leash, determined to run a ring around Regulus before he could even realise she had done it. His persistent objections were becoming repetitive and - frankly - boring. He needed to change his attitude.

"Regulus," she snapped despite herself. "Nothing is ever fucking private, because we are the Dark Lord's servants and HE needs to know EVERYTHING. Yes, I pushed Rabastan for a true report because I could tell the smarmy wretch was keeping secrets. There can be no secrets in the highest ranks, and that is where you belong. You will not be low level cannon fodder, you will be one of the most trusted even if I have to burn myself to a crisp to get you there."

Now they both looked like petulant teenagers, nibbling on their biscuits and glaring at each other over the delicately spiced crumbs. Just to stop herself from retorting further, Bellatrix shoved the last half of her biscuit into her mouth and chewed on it noisily, leaning forward to pour them both more tea. This time when she heaped her sugar, she stirred it rampantly.

"Show me," she demanded more calmly, after swallowing what had become an unpleasant mush of ginger stodge. "Show me your curses, then I promise I will leave you be." He could take her word for it. She could lie without a second thought, but with her family she was nothing but brutally honest. Raising her own wand, she shot a jet of Avada green at a rather expensive vase gifted to her by the Mulcibers on her wedding day. The gesture was effortless, hardly any thought behind it. There was only the savage desire to kill, and it showed in the explosive way that the item shattered and flew across the room. "Take your pick of object, I really don't care what you destroy."

What had begun between them as a mutually beneficial physical agreement had quickly become something deeper, though there was still mountains for them to climb before anything between them could become permanent. Still, he was beginning to see that his feelings weren't quite as casual he'd once thought. At her giggle, Fenrir turned his head to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. "Nance's living room was absolutely covered in paper. The boy has been spoiled rotten," Fenrir said, his tone full of fondness. He'd never thought it would, but fatherhood suited him.

It'd been many years since Fenrir had been present for a formal Christmas dinner, having not had a full family Christmas dinner since he was a boy with both parents. Christmas dinners with Magnus were informal and casual, usually just spent with Nancy rather than a full family affair. "A few hexes would liven up a stuffy old dinner. You should've thrown one under the table and let them argue about who started it," he said slyly.

Watching Pandora light up had Fenrir tightening his arms around her, wanting to draw her closer. "We try our best. Our romantic relationship didn't work, but she's my best friend and Magnus means everything to us. I don't think she will mind you meeting him, but I want to check anyways," he explained, before falling quiet as she did. "It's impossible to ignore what's between us, and you know my feelings on it. But giving some time to see where we get...I think I have been yours for a while now. Nobody else compares to you," he said with a warm smile. "I have something for you," he reached for his wand, summoning the small box from under his tree. "Merry Christmas, my darling."

There was an impeding question that hung on the tip of her tongue. It had been there for the last several weeks, not sure how to bring it up, or what he might think. Fenrir was the last person Pandora thought she would want, considering the obstacles that seemed to be in their way, but the more she pondered on it, the answer, for herself, was right there in front of her.

Pandora gave a small giggle, picturing Magnus tearing the wrapping paper to shreds. "Let him have the magic. It must have been a sight to see."

It was only a matter of time before he would be betrothed and her parents had a few families in mind. "You should have seen the arguing. I though hexes would have been thrown at some point." That was when she slipped out of the room unnoticed.

A genuine smile seeps on her lips when he mentions talking to Nancy about her meeting Magnus. There was part of her that wondered if he would turn her down, but he didn't. "That is understandable. I always admired how the two of you could co-parent the way you do." Her eyes close softly, feeling his head on top of hers. "I do have one more question," silence lingers a little between them, building the courage to utter her next words. "Will you be mine? I know what comes between us, but let's see how we do, together, and decide after a year." Her eyes slowly open, rising to find his.

There was something in the woman's gaze that indicated that the hardness of her expression was personal and yet Fenrir couldn't say he'd ever seen her before. That didn't mean that they'd never crossed paths, of course, but she was entirely unmemorable if that was the case. Shrugging at her sharpness, Fenrir rolled his eyes. "If you don't want anything from me, perhaps you could stop trying to crucio me with your eyes. At least do it properly."

If there was anyone she wished to cause immediate harm to, it was the one standing in front of her, what he did to Remus with no regard, she wanted to bring him to his knees. He had no idea who she was, but she knew plenty about him. And, she didn't like him. "No, I don't want anything from you." She replied more sharply than she would ever dare. Aurora was done waiting for who wanted this parchment, standing up.

"If you say so," Fenrir said, quite content to continue pushing Alecto's buttons. He had made his dislike for the woman quite clear, and yet she still seemed to keep coming back as he had made himself quite useful to the cause. "I think you'll find all is as it should be. Again, the Dark Lord himself seems quite pleased. Feel free to take your concerns to him, but you will find there is nothing to be concerned about," Fenrir said, knowing that there was nothing awry within his pack.

"The implication was that the cave would be in place of my home, that is my accusation. Point your finger elsewhere," he said, nose scrunched in distaste. "There is a difference between understanding family before and after you become a parent. I would do anything for my son, and that includes protecting the sanctity of this home. If you say you didn't mean it in that manner, then I will believe you - but heed my warning nonetheless."

Fenrir found it interesting that this visit did not seem to be on behalf of the Dark Lord, but her follow up words betrayed her intent. "Ah, I see. To be crude every man has a weakness which will render him useless for a while with one firm hit, though I assume you know this already," he paused, frowning slightly. "Angus has a wife, Elsie. He also has a particular mistress that he is fond of called Blair from within his pack that Elsie is unaware of. He also has nieces and nephews that I am led to believe he is quite precious about."

"Perhaps this is where we agree to disagree, hm?" The last thing Alecto wanted to do was to continue on this useless banter, though she could, pleasing her greatly, however, there were other matters at hand. "I do not question, Fenrir, I do wish to make sure all is what it should be." If he thought that would push her, it did not, forever dedicated to the cause.

"I never said anything about touching your home, Fenrir. I would watch what accusations you make." She pointed sternly at him. "All I said, was a cave could be ready if you wished." Alecto had no desire to cause rift, but she would not be baited into a corner. The witch was already protective of the little ones growing inside of her. "I know the importance of family."

"I do not wish to dispose of him. The Dark Lord wishes for his service." Did she want to blackmail him? "Perhaps I need to know a weakness, if he decides to let his hands wander again."

Fenrir headed straight into the kitchen, grabbing the nearest plate of kitchen leftovers which he shovelled down. It was a mix of several dishes, but he'd been starving all day and food was food. Once he'd finished up, he tossed the plate into the sink, lazily casting a cleaning charm over it as he dug out his backpack of clothes. Shoving his dirty chefs whites into there once he'd changed, Fenrir would either head back later on to retrieve it or it would just remain here overnight depending on where the evening took them.

Nodding briskly at Thorfinn, Fenrir cast a quick goodbye over his shoulder to the owner. "Ready to go. Don't think I've ever eaten a pie so fast in my life," Fen said with a grin, prepared for the fun ahead of them. "See you there," he said, before twisting on the spot to apparate away.

Thorfinn took the shot that was being offered, downing it with his counterpart before he left. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the room, at least this was a crowd of people he could be around, the odd one sticking out like a sore thumb. The wizard was curious where the night might lead him, but he was more than willing to get his hands dirty - it had been far too long since they last were.

Twenty minutes passed and he turned his attention to the door Fenrir went into, sliding off his stool when the male walked out, hands smoothing over his suit, robes waiting for them when it was time. "You ready to go?"

Reg had just been about to settle into sleep when the wards alerted him that someone was on his property. He was shirtless in bed, so he darted out of bed and grabbed the first shirt that he could see. It was haphazard between the shirt and his tartan pyjama bottoms, but if there was a threat outside, the last thing he wanted was to be shirtless. Rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes furiously, Reg slipped his feet into his slippers and quietly descended the stairs, wand outstretched.

Almost a minute had lapsed since the wards alerted him before there was a knock at the door. It almost soothed him - anyone with nefarious intentions wasn't likely to knock and announce their presence, but he was still on edge as he opened the door. The defensiveness running through his body quickly melted into worry as he opened the door a crack and took in the sight of Caradoc. "Merlin," he gasped out, opening the door fully. "Come in."

Stepping out into the cold, Reg wrapped his arm around Caradoc, helping him into the house. As they walked slowly through to the living room, Reg was waving his wand furiously, summoning all of the healing potions he had stored. "What happened?"

starter 002 for @battle-scvrs (regulus black)

location: regulus black’s manor

Honestly, Caradoc hadn’t even meant to apparate to his boyfriend’s house. When doing the spell, all that ran through his head was ‘warmth, comfort, home’ and he ended up here . . . Which he supposed was rather fitting. Even though he didn’t want Regulus to worry, he’d rather be here than his flat. Plus, along with the injuries he had incurred during the disastrous Order mission, he was pretty sure he had just splinched his leg a tiny bit. Glancing down, he saw a gash had ripped part of his pants. Well, damn.

Caradoc sighed, trying to erase the images of the mission from his head. They’d probably only show up in his nightmares later, which made him shudder. He slowly approached the manor, hoping that he wasn’t bothering Reg. A part of him thought that he should go home, but trying to apparate again didn’t sound like a good idea.

So, he knocked on the door, and also leaned against it while he waited for his boyfriend to answer. Even just seeing Reg would make him feel better, Caradoc knew. He’d only stay for a few minutes, he wouldn’t be a bother, he told himself.

While Fenrir loved their physical relationship, it was the quiet moments like this where he felt like there was the potential for more. There was the undeniable issue of their difference in species, but for now, that didn't matter too much. Shifting slightly so that she could fit better on the couch, Fenrir leaned his head against hers. The warmth of the fire, a full stomach and the softness of the witch in his arms were the perfect concoction for a Christmas nap but he wouldn't dishonour Pandora or her time like that. "When they talk about the magic of Christmas, they don't talk about how feral five year olds can be with wrapping paper."

Noting the way that Pandora wanted to swiftly move on from discussion of her own day, Fenrir just snorted at the mention of Octavius. "I'm sure he fucking loved that. Someone will make a respectable man of him eventually," he sniggered.

Fenrir would not bring any of his hook-ups near Magnus, not wanting to expose the boy to any undue risk - or confuse him as to why his father was with different women. Fenrir and Pandora still weren't exclusive, but it had been some time since anyone other than Pandora had truly captured his attention. If it were just up to him, Fen would introduce Pandora to Magnus the next day. "I think it might be time. I would need to check with Nance though, see how she feels about it. She's almost as protective as I am, if not more. I will speak to her this week and see how she feels, if that's okay?"

Pandora leaned into his touch, resting her forehead against his, embracing the moment between them. She could see the tiredness in his eyes, shifting her body between the back of the couch and his, letting a leg drape over his waist, a palm coming to rest on his chest and her head on his shoulder. It was spending their time like this that mattered to the witch.

"My day was like the rest, besides a fancier dinner and a few extra family there." Pandora really didn't want to bore him with the irrelevant family talk, not that much attention was placed on her, which she preferred, blending into the wall, allowing herself to eat and quietly dismiss herself from the table. "Normal pureblood talk about marriages, for Octavius."

"One day, I want to be there with you two." Pandora let the words free in a soft tone. She knew all about Nancy and their co-parenting, impressed that they were able to do so. She also knew her feelings for Fenrir and they had discussed how to proceed with Magnus involved, which she agreed, whilst they figured them out. "I'd like to meet Magnus, if you think we are at that point." Hues glance up at him, the pad of her finger circling absentmindedly on his chest. She knew what she wanted.

Regulus's gaze fixed upon Frank with a curious eye, before he shook his head. "Whether I was in the shop first is irrelevant...if you were at the shelf first, that's what's most important. You'd be entitled to take whatever you need," he said, it making absolute sense in his mind. "A bit of a grump...not a huge grump, but a bit. I'll take it. Better than being known for being a miserable bastard," he said, lips curling into a brief grin.

"Oh, well now when I go home I'm going to have to sit and think about future code names. Leo is too obvious, he'd know it was me immediately."

"Maybe, but if you were here first you deserve some as well, don't you think?" Maybe he ought to try and talk with Regulus more often, this really was a fascinating conversation. "Only a bit of a grump though. Everyone has to work at politeness anyways. It's a learned skill. You could definitely do it.

"Why not both? Go fully under cover. Give yourself a code name. Could be a bit amusing, honestly."

It was almost too good. The woman had barely needed any pushing at all before she exploded off a cliff edge in fury, and Regulus couldn't hold back his smirk. It was so easy, and he had hardly a care in the world for the other patrons in the store as he continued poking the angry bear. "Oh, daddy dearest has lots of good ideas...it's hard to listen to him though when his dulcet tones are drowned out by my mother's shrill shrieking. Its a wonder I still have eardrums at all," he mused nonchalantly. "Your mother gave you 'rude' as a middle name? She must hate you."

Adrenaline was thrumming through his veins as she shoved him, and he shot her a shit-eating grin as she screamed, entirely unbothered by her sudden increase in volume. "Yes, you should be polite. You're bothering the other patrons with your shrieking," he said smoothly, continuing to pile random potions ingredients in his basket. With a keen eye, he watched what she picked up and as she walked away, Regulus pulled his wand out and subtly cast a vanishing spell on the vial in her hand. The rest of the vials were his, and he cast a quick protection spell over the basket to prevent her from magically stealing one from him.

She was beyond annoyed. All Georgette wanted was to go to the Apothecary, get some ingredients then go back to her safe space. This interaction is precisely why she didn't go out. Little pricks who thought they were better than everyone else roaming around causing trouble for no good reason. All she wanted was something to help with her hands. That's it. And the asshole had to be an asshole. She couldn't let him get away with it. It wasn't in her nature.

"Obviously your mother was wrong but your father had some great ideas. You should really listen to him more. Believe me. I'm nowhere in the middle. Not an ounce of me thinks you're the 'best boy,'" she scoffed. "I'm in father's camp." Him telling her she was rude like it was supposed to bother her was laughable. She lived to be rude. "Rude is my middle name and I'm not about to give it up now. Especially for the likes of you."

As he elbowed her, Georgette's anger seethed. She pushed him. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? I hadn't laid a finger on you no matter how much I wanted to. And you're telling me to be polite while you elbow me?! Fuck you!" she screamed. She saw him shoveling vile after vile into his basket. "You bloody bastard." She looked at the shelf they had been at. He hadn't gotten everything. She picked up one of the viles she needed and stormed past him headed to get another for her potion, shoulder checking him as she walked by.

Whether the Wyvern was a dive bar or not, Fenrir took pride in his work. He wouldn't serve standard pub grub just because that was what was expected, like the shit that they served at the Leaky. He worked hard at the small menu they offered, and all of the kitchen staff knew how to make each dish. Being called out of the kitchen his natural assumption was that it was to be a question about the food, so when the blonde woman started talking about how to reach him, Fenrir straightened his spine and mentally prepared for whatever was coming next. "I don't mind. It's my job after all, to be available for questions. Thanks," he accepted the praise, tone full of curiosity as to whatever was happening here.

Fenrir reached for the proffered clothing, eyeing it with an analytical gaze. "Protection you say? What sort of protection does it offer?" he asked, his gaze darting to the tables either side to ensure they weren't being watched. "I assume you know my name, Leta, otherwise you wouldn't be here," he said, loathe to introduce himself unless absolutely necessary. He shook her hand firmly, before he turned his attention back to the clothing. "Do I owe you for this?"

Whether it would seem silly to the one in question or not, Leta felt a visit was long overdue. The White Wyvern was a place the witch could be found only rarely, when occasion would strike. It was convenient such a moment had come; the blonde had found her way there. In fact, for the first time she’d even tried the food there. Somehow the establishment had always given the impression of being a simple place, more for the drinking type than those wishing to dine. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you out here, but I’m not entirely sure how to reach you.” Of course, Leta could have sent an owl. That seemed too harsh, impersonal. “First of all, since it seems rude otherwise. The food was nice.”

Slender hands reached to take a quick sip of the wine in front of her. “That aside, I came to give you this. Whether you wish to use it is entirely up to you.” It was simple clothing. Not the usual cloaks she’d have handed other death eaters. Given that she wasn’t all that familiar with the one in front of her, it seemed like the most basic of things. “I have made these for all that have joined. Simple protection against the unwanted.” The former Slytherin could only hope it would make sense to the one in front of her. “Oh, Leta Rosier. I work at Madam Malkin’s. If I feel like it.” Wasn’t that the truth. Dedicated, yet growing more and more accustomed to just working in her own workshop. The blonde offered her hand. Least she could do. - @battle-scvrs

Regulus didn't want to feel this seemingly unending bitterness towards his brother. He didn't want to poke and prod at Sirius, not when he still secretly wanted his older brother's approval - though he knew he would never truly receive it. It seemed that no matter what he did, he would never make anyone happy - including himself. Sirius' silence would've concerned Regulus another time, and he was sure that when he returned home he would dwell on what it all meant, but for now Reg chose to sit in the awkwardness of the atmosphere between them. "And why would I have more run ins with the auror, brother? What are you accusing me of?" Regulus challenged, his gaze stony and hard.

"And take the rest of the family history with it? It's our story, Sirius, whether you like it or not," Reg shrugged. He wasn't liking it so much these days, but he still found the history on the tapestry interesting. He wondered how many of their ancestors had doubts like he did, buried deep inside. "If you're insistent that you aren't going to take it, there's little point in you being here and waiting for the aurors to deem us worthy of their time. You might as well go," he suggested, hoping to rid himself of this awkwardness.

Sirius was glad to be facing away as his brother spoke, a frown falling onto his face before he could control his expression. It seemed impossible that he had always been such a failure, a remarkable disappointment to his parents, and yet somehow they'd been using him as a bar to reach to. He felt guilt twist in his stomach despite all the years he'd spent trying to convince himself that his parents' behaviors were no fault of his own. It was harder to keep that belief up when he heard the bitterness in Regulus's tone. He was silent a beat too long, completely unsure what to say, and Regulus filled the silence with talk of the aurors. "I don't know," he shrugged, happy to move onto a new subject. "I'm sure you have a lot more run ins with them than I do." Working in the pub and keeping a relatively straight life meant most of his run ins with aurors were just them picking up people who were drunk and dangerous.

"She should have burned it down," he muttered, frowning to himself. Sirius was almost surprised the tapestry was still standing, sure it must just be a constant reminder of all the disappointments the Black family was starting to gather; his betrayal just the most recent. "Maybe it has both of our names on it or something," he sighed, lolling back in the chair again. "Or someone died and left us something." Though he couldn't think of many family members who would leave them both something. Just as he thought it the door swung open and Sirius went back to lolling lazily in the chair - the perfect image of unbothered.

As he approached the table, whatever the patrons had been muttering ceased and their conversation dried up. With a cool stare, Fenrir asked them again if there was anything he could help with, and was greeted with silence. With a shrug, he turned to head back towards the kitchen to get back to cooking. He'd made half a step in that direction when his eyes met those of a woman who he didn't seem to recognise, but the woman was evidently trying to stare a hole through his head. "Can I help you?" he asked curtly.

This was not Aurora's usually spot, but she had a request for a certain star chart from a client. Walking through knockturn alley left her a little on edge. Finding her seat at table four, she sat with a mug of coffee, taking a sip, sort of entertained by the table in front of her, listening to them complain. Though, that amused feeling instantly shift to dread when she saw who came out approaching the table beside her. She knew Fenrir Greyback, the stories told of the one who turned Remus. The table in front of her instantly ceased any complaint. There was a chance he would turn and not notice her, but their eyes met.

Aurora had a few run-ins with Fenrir, this strong part of her wanting to make him feel the pain Remus did.

— ‘ the hunter’s moon is shining, i’m running with the wolves tonight . . . ’

𓈒　　˙　　⊹　　‧　　☾　　. 　 　 ˚ 　 　 ⁺ 　 𓂂 　 ֗ 　

Aaron Taylor-Johnson as James Frey ⤷ A Million Little Pieces | dir. Sam Taylor-Johnson

Fenrir had finally escaped the heat of the kitchen after final orders for food had been called and had headed to the bar to pour himself a drink to cool down. Festive crowds were relentless and he'd barely had a moment to himself all day, never mind time to eat or drink something. He'd been in the middle of downing a pint of water when Thorfinn entered and made his way over to Fenrir with purpose.

Fen took the parchment and read it, committing the contents to memory before he tapped his wand against it to set the parchment alight. "Twenty minutes for me to change and eat something," he said, reaching for a bottle of vodka. He poured two shot glasses, handing one across the bar to Thorfinn. "Cheers," he said, throwing the shot back before he disappeared into the back of the pub to prepare for the mission.

where: the white wyvern who: @battle-scvrs (Fenrir Greyback) when: 19th of december, 2024

It appeared that Thorfinn was not going to be able to enjoy the rest of the night, a parchment sent that he and Fenrir had a task to handle for the Dark Lord. He knew how much of a savage the other could be, and between the two, he was certain there would be a trial of blood in their wake.

The blonde sauntered into the shop, making his way up to the bar where he sat down with Fenrir on the other side. "How much longer do you have?" He held out the parchment for him to read discretely.

"Perhaps it is you that lacks manners, Carrow. You come into my home making demands of my time, and to use my fireplace...not once have I heard a please. Oh, I wouldn't concern yourself too much with my pack. The Dark Lord seems pleased with us...or are you questioning our leaders judgment?" he asked, daring her to challenge the Dark Lord himself.

Though Alecto had tried to bite back her disdain at his casual show, Fenrir knew it had irked her and he smirked. "You couldn't pay me any amount of money in the world to get involved in all of your pureblood society bullshit. I am perfectly happy where I am. If you touch this home where my son resides, you will regret it," he said, gaze hardening. "I take threats to this place very seriously. You will understand when your children arrive...do not test me again."

Fenrir continued lounging against his couch, though his brain was ticking away. "So what are you looking for exactly? Someone to depose Angus? Or are you looking for blackmail?"

"If a leader lacks manner's does that mean the rest of the pack does? This could be concerning." Alecto states in a mocking tone. The witch was certain if they did prove to be unruly that the Dark Lord would lose interest in them and perhaps they could all be put down.

Her body shifts in his direction, keeping from rolling her eyes at his unprofessionalism. "Is that jealousy I hear, Greyback?" A small pause. "I don't blame you, however, if you truly desire the caves, I'm sure we can have it arranged for you." A insidious smirk twisting on her features.

Now that had reached business and she sat up a little straighter. "We have an alliance with him, but something about him irks me." More so, how he continued to hit on her their last visit.

Reg leant his head gently against the top of Caradoc's, relaxing into the comfort and security he found when his boyfriend was near. "I won't tell you not to be scared. I'm terrified, more so now...and now I have someone other than just me to worry about. Whatever comes, we'll face it together...be it good, or bad," he said, trying to be strong for the both of them despite the anxiety that seemed to be constantly nestled within his soul. "I don't want any regrets either, or any 'what could have beens'. I love you, my dear. I love you and I'm choosing you over anything else."

Reg considered Caradoc's words before sighing. "The likelihood of them not being related to me is slim...all purebloods seem to be related in one way or another, it's just a matter of closeness. Come back here when you're done, we can debrief from it all. I might be able to help you identify some of the people you fight against, then you can pass the information to Edgar. For now, why don't we go upstairs? I'm exhausted, let's head to bed."

Fin.

“Yeah, I hope the tide changes too,” Caradoc murmured, leaning his head against Regulus’s shoulder. “But I’m scared. Even going home makes—makes me scared. Not a ton of people know me, I know that, but muggle-borns are getting captured and killed every day. I-I don’t want to die, Reg. I want to have a life with you. If something . . . If something ever happens to me, I just . . . I don’t want to have any regrets, you know? I don’t think I can fix things up with my parents, but I can have a relationship with you. And that’s what I want.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, trying to keep calm, trying not to think about all the horrors in their world right now. “I have another mission tomorrow—for the Order. Gonna try and get some Death Eater intel. Not exactly sure who we’re going after, but I don’t think it’s anyone related to you,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll get back from late.” And hopefully he wouldn’t need to visit St. Mungos, he thought to himself.

Christmas day had been entirely chaotic as he had thought it might be. Magnus was old enough now to be excited about their annual traditions, and Fen had spent the night in Nancy's spare room so that the three of them could be together as soon as Magnus woke up. That wake up call had been at 5am, with his excitable son not settling down for another few hours until Fenrir allowed him to open one small present because Santa had been. Magnus had been full of energy all morning, practically bouncing off the walls with Christmas spirit, until he finally settled down for a nap in the early afternoon after lunch.

On Magnus' first Christmas, Fenrir had sat down with Nancy and they'd decided that they would follow English traditions for Christmas but Fenrir still liked to add some Norwegian touches. As a family, they still celebrated Julaften but presents and the large lunch were saved for Christmas day itself. Magnus had his stocking on Christmas eve, and they had eaten traditional Norwegian food before Magnus went to bed to await Santa's arrival. He may no longer live in Norway, and potentially would never return, but he wanted his son to know the traditions of his heritage.

When Magnus went to sleep on the evening of Christmas day, Fenrir had bid Nancy goodnight and headed home. Entirely exhausted from two full days, Fenrir had sprawled out on his couch, an arm tossed lazily over his eyes. He had a brief power nap before the clock's chimes awoke him, and he had just a moment before Pandora arrived at their agreed time. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he wrapped his arms around the witch. "Merry Christmas, Dora," he returned her kiss, one of his hands coming up to cup her cheek. "Magnus has been an absolute force of nature for two full days...it's such a joy to see him so happy. How was your day?"

where: his cottage when: christmas night who: @battle-scvrs (Fenrir Greyback)

Pandora had spent the day with her family, trying to enjoy the time spent with them, but it was clear how she didn't fit in with them. She could appreciate that they seemed to focus on Octavius and how it was time for him to marry, and they spent time arguing over the idea of a potential arranged marriage. Most times she believed her parents would never bother with her, casting her off as a defect.

The day and dinner passed, finding herself making her way back home for her to pack for the night. Her night was planned. It was waiting for the time to come where she could be where she wanted to be.

When the clock struck eight, she moved from her desk, closing the notes she was working on. Her bag was at her side, reaching down to hold onto it, and that is when she apparated to his home, popping in the foyer.

It was the cracking of a fire that let her know where she could find him, making her way to the living room to find him sprawled on the couch. "Merry Christmas." Pandora sauntered over, instantly coming to lay her body on top of his, leaning down for a soft kiss. "I hope you had a good day."

Fenrir had a feeling that they would end up circling back to the subject of Anders Greyback later on in the evening. He'd expected further questions immediately, but equally he wasn't surprised that Pandora wanted to go straight from business to pleasure. "Oh, he deserved it all and more," Fenrir growled out, his heart black and bitter. Anders had shown Fenrir how not to be a father, and he was grateful that the man would never have a chance to know Magnus.

With hands firmly on Pandora's hips, Fen took the opportunity as she bared her neck to him to press hot kisses down her jawline. He was preparing to apparate them, wanting to get into the privacy of his own home otherwise they would end up just staying here - which, honestly, he wouldn't mind too much either. "My darling, what do we need to do? Can it not be done at home? I'm an impatient man.."

Fenrir couldn't stop the look of absolute bafflement on his face as the woman rambled about protective whiskey. "The only thing this whiskey is protecting me from is the Christmas crowds, and it's giving me a cheerful mood," he said, tone laced with sarcasm. At her next question, Fen tilted his head slightly, considering the words. "Whiskey makes me feel good. I don't need to worry about being seen, I seem to attract attention wherever I go without me working for it."

"Huh." The sound came out a soft note, permeated with sincere interest. "Amber's thought to ward off negative energy. Maybe that whiskey's protecting you from something," she said, writing something else down before throwing the quill in the depths of her handbag, folding the napkin up and putting it in her pocket. "Did it make you feel good when I did? Did you feel seen?" A gentle tug pulled the corners of her lips into a small smirk.

"Oh, if I were suddenly nice, assume that I've got some sort of terminal illness and I'll be gone within the week," he snorted with amusement, pulling a vial of powdered griffin claw from the shelf. "There's a difference between knowing, and hoping. Let a man cling to the only hope he has left for a bit of peace, Val."

“I think the moment that you are suddenly nice, we all know that something is up with you,” Val agreed with the young man standing in front of her. Regulus wasn’t known for his sunny display. She couldn’t stop herself from laughing at the next comment from him. “I’m sorry, that was me not being nice this time around. You should know by now that Diagon Alley is never busy.”

"If you needed the whole stock, and you were here before me, then that's your right," Regulus said with a shrug. The whole thing seemed quite simple to him - he wasn't sure why it was so complicated for everyone else to understand. "I'm fairly well known for being a bit of a grump, Longbottom. Politeness to others is something I have to think quite hard about."

"Oh, I know the owner is avoiding me. Perhaps I should enter next time under a disillusionment charm, or indeed under some other disguise."

"But what if I had needed the stock that was there?" Frank asked, enjoying this debate. Regulus structured his arguments well and speaking with him wasn't nearly as frustrating as talking to Bellatrix. "Perhaps you ought to start asserting your boundaries as the customer there first. Just, you know, politely."

He hummed and glanced over at the counter where the owner seemed to have disappeared, just as Regulus said. "I think the owner's avoiding you. You'll have to take them by surprise."

Fenrir had a feeling that they would end up circling back to the subject of Anders Greyback later on in the evening. He'd expected further questions immediately, but equally he wasn't surprised that Pandora wanted to go straight from business to pleasure. "Oh, he deserved it all and more," Fenrir growled out, his heart black and bitter. Anders had shown Fenrir how not to be a father, and he was grateful that the man would never have a chance to know Magnus.

With hands firmly on Pandora's hips, Fen took the opportunity as she bared her neck to him to press hot kisses down her jawline. He was preparing to apparate them, wanting to get into the privacy of his own home otherwise they would end up just staying here - which, honestly, he wouldn't mind too much either. "My darling, what do we need to do? Can it not be done at home? I'm an impatient man.."

When it came to Fenrir, she had no desire to tame the beast that he was, she fully accepted all that he was. Body flushing against his, like two magnets drawn to each other, touch one of the ways they were able to express what they meant to each other. In moments like these, all around them faded into darkness, leaving the beast that enthralled her entirely at her mercy. Pandora did not miss the flash of desire that burned in his eyes. "Good," a single word that held his promise of what would come.

Pandora had made a mental note, tucked away in the back of her mind, to ask him more about his father. She wished not to spoil the moment they were sharing, but felt there was more to his story that perhaps he would share with her. The stories he would tell her about his life and pack, she could listen to endlessly, finding his voice soothing.

"Then he deserved to get what he had coming." The witch could only assume something terrible happened and she already had a hatred for the dead man. Her head lolled back against the tree trunk, wild hues drinking in the beast in front of her, breaking away from the heated, passionate, kiss. "Yours...." Desperate to find release for the growing anticipation of what was to come building inside of her, but at the mention of the clock, realising she had to protect him.

"We must do one thing first." She glances over to the clock.

The tone of his cousin's voice broke through Regulus' rambling worries, and he looked up at her. Regardless of her affirmations, Regulus would carry regret for the way he had treated her for the rest of his life. "I was just a boy, trying to make his parents proud," he said quietly. "You left, then Sirius left, and they were determined nobody else would leave. The pressure, merlin...it was constant, unbearable. And that's just my parents, that's not even considering Bella," he breathed, still incredibly confused and conflicted about his feelings for the intense witch. Picking up his cup of tea, Regulus took a long sip, hoping the warmth would settle him somehow. "Oh, me too. A visit from my parents would ruin my whole week," he said, with a small smile.

It was the first time he'd been able to voice his concerns to someone who he hoped would listen without judgment. He could have talked to Caradoc, but he hadn't wanted to burden the other man with all of this when whatever they had was still new and precious to him. "Bella will kill me. If she doesn't, my parents will. You and Sirius were bad enough....but for me to be marked, to have been on the 'right path' and to still leave? They won't let that stand. It's an embarrassment, I'm an embarrassment," his voice was small and sad. He truly could only see one way that this ended - it was just a matter of how much time he could steal before it happened. "I can't see a way out of this...but if I don't, the war will kill me anyway. I froze up in battle the other day, having a panic attack behind my mask. I couldn't stand to see another person die by my hand."

A fond smile tugged at his lips as he thought more about Caradoc, and he offered Andromeda a soft shrug of his shoulders. "It just kinda happened. I didn't know his blood status when it started, and then I realised...it's the least interesting part of him. I understand a lot more now than I did before."

"Regulus..." Andromeda didn't mean to sound stern as she said his name, but she didn't want him to be reliving everything he thought he had done wrong. "You've never been cruel, the family cut me off for my choices and I understand why you did so as well. Trust me, I know just how easy it is to just go with their decisions. To not question what they're telling you, if it weren't for Ted I'd likely be following in Bellatrix's footsteps." She feigned a shudder at the thought, though the idea certainly was a terrifying one. As he explained that the house was strongly warded she felt herself relax more. She didn't think it was a trap, but one never knew when family might pop in for a visit out of nowhere. "I won't lie, I'm relieved to know my estranged family won't be stopping by." A small laugh, trying to lighten the situation.

Her heart ached as Regulus explained what was going on, how much he was struggling. She'd had an inkling that things were not going well the last time she'd seen him. He deserved happiness, a life that he chose just like she and Sirius had. And to know that he was marked, that this was the path his family had put him on. Pain for him and anger at her family warred within her. "Listen to me Reg....there is always time to change things. You don't have to keep doing this." She squeezed his hand gently. "We can get you out of it, we can figure it out. This doesn't have to be your life. She assured him, her eyes meeting his. "You are not just a spare to me and you never were. You're my family, and no matter what I am by your side. If you want to get out of their ranks we can figure out how to do it."

A moment's pause before a small smile rose to her lips. "Now on another note, a muggle guy is it? Perhaps now you understand why I made the choices I did?"

Fenrir had warded the woods to prevent any unwanted visitors whilst they worked, wanting to be entirely undisturbed. "Mm...tried to run to the Order, thinking they could save him. He didn't understand that the Order are weak," Fenrir mused, watching Evelyn work. "No loss at all. In fact...I would say that he's a danger to our cause, wouldn't you? And those that are dangerous get dealt with properly," he crooned, crouching to look into the man's eyes before Evelyn rolled him over. "Not even worthy to become a wolf," he trailed his fingernails, sharpened into claws for such an occasion, up the man's arm till he reached the other man's neck which was wet with tears. Digging his nails in until a few beads of blood sprouted, Fenrir scoffed at the man's continuing pleas for forgiveness. "Only God can save you now, but unfortunately, hell has sent us instead."

Standing up straight again, Fenrir took a step back to watch Evelyn's next move. This was why he continued to put up with the Death Eaters and their never ending bullshit. The sheer joy of bringing a man to his knees, tasting true fear and pain and doling out punishments like a God. Throwing an arm around Evelyn's shoulders, Fenrir's own sick smile reflected hers. "I think he has, don't you?" Fenrir said, his tone full of uncharacteristic cheer. He moved towards the man again, rolling him back onto his front. He extended a hand, drawing the man to his feet. "Go on. If you can out run me, I'll let you go. No magic, no tricks. I'll even be nice and give you a ten second head start....so start running. Evelyn, would you be a dear and count us down?”

Who: @battle-scvrs -Fenrir Where: The Woods Outside Fenrir's Home

Evelyn considered the sniveling man on the ground between the two of them with a look of distaste. She so did enjoy the screams of pain, but must he make it so easy? "This is the deserter then?" Her voice held a note of disbelief as they traveled from the man whimpering on the ground up to Fenrir. "Certainly no loss then." She snorted, using her foot to force the man to roll onto his back. If he was so quick to crumble, to beg for forgiveness, then they were surely better off without him. He would have been a waste of a death eater, and fell apart after the first interrogation.

Still it felt good to be bad to business, she had plenty of built up energy, she only hoped that this lasted long enough for her to release it all. She tapped her wand gently against her side as she considered him, before a muttered crucio slipped free from her lips. Her lips curling up into delight as he screamed and curled in on himself. Just as quickly as it was over, the man once more panting and whimpering on the ground as he begged for them to stop. She sidled up beside Fenrir, a devious smile playing on her lips. "What do you think then handsome? Has he learned his lesson?" She was teasing at this point. She knew they were no where near done, and she was looking forward to watching Fenrir work. There was something enthralling about seeing him get violent, letting his nature take over.

"Oh, my kind have plenty of manners...that doesn't mean I do. We are not all one big werewolf with a hive mind, you are aware of that right? Merlin, what do they teach in that school?" Fenrir asked, closing the door behind Alecto. Every interaction he seemed to have with this woman was laced with bitterness and sarcasm, though he had to admit that he respected her taste for sadism.

Bristling at her judgment of his home, Fenrir rolled his shoulders before he sprawled across the couch - the picture of casualness. "Ah, we can't all have centuries of pureblooded wealth and handed down homes to live in. If it were just me, I'd be quite content in the caves...perhaps I should move back there, I'm less likely to have practically unannounced visits from witches," he said, eyes resting on Alecto.

"I know Angus. Our paths don't cross often, but I know him. What information are you looking for? And why?"

"Here I thought your kind had manners, but I suppose that was a mishap on my part. Do forgive me." A tight smile pulled on her features and she made her way up the stairs into the open door. "I am a witch, very observant of you." Alecto respected what Fenrir could do in a battle, and followed what the dark Lord wished, but otherwise, she found him useless.

Alecto wandered down the hall, turning when she found what was the living area. "How...quaint." With the flick of her hand, wand out, a fire started in the fireplace and she sat in the chair closest to it. "A lot of people seemed to miss their invitation. From what I remember it was our day, not anyone else's."

The witch waited until he came in. "I need to know what you may knw of Angus MacMickey. The Scottish leader."

Regulus was trying to balance too many spinning plates between his family duties, his duties to the war, his own misgivings, and the secrets he was trying to keep. He did not want to sit here under Bellatrix's beady eye, knowing he had disappointed her since he was a boy and that he continued to be an ever present reminder of what the Black family could have had, and that they were left with him instead. He had tried - nobody could say that he hadn't tried. Merlin, he'd torn his soul in two trying to be good enough. He'd cast curse after curse, he'd trained and trained, he had gone on plenty of successful missions - yet it had stained his soul until he was truly fit for the Black name. The pressure from all sides was drowning him, pouring down his throat and choking his airwaves. He couldn't continue like this, but he couldn't see another way out. He felt like there was only one way this ended for him, and it was a permanent closure to the story of Regulus Black.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Regulus kept his eyes trained on his cousin. He would not cower in front of Bellatrix, no matter the way his insides were twisting with anxiety and fear about what she may demand of him. He loved her, truly, he did. A large part of Regulus resisting against the conscience that had been gnawing at his soul for so long had been that he did not want to go the way of Andromeda, of Sirius. He did not want to lose Bella, or Cissa. Even his parents, twisted and awful though they were, Regulus would mourn the loss of them in his life. It was all he had ever known, and stepping out into a complete unknown terrified him. At his heart, he felt like a scared little boy. He did not want to lose his family.

Bella's silence at his outburst was chilling, and he made a noise of discontentment at the finger pointed in his direction. "The mission was successful. There was no need for Rabastan to update you on my abilities in the battlefield, that is gossip. I knew you were getting updates on me, nothing is ever fucking private in this family is it?" he spat, furious at both Bellatrix and his mentor. He bit his tongue rather than retorting at her correct assumption that he was trying to distract her. Snatching a biscuit from the tray, Regulus considered that he must truly look like a toddler throwing a tantrum, yet he couldn't bring himself to care as he ate the biscuit with a frown. "Bellatrix, there is no hidden game to my words. I do not want you to teach me," he asserted. "My best is avada. The other two are equally poor, though I would say my imperio is slightly better than my crucio. But I am working on those with Rabastan, and that is the way it will stay."

"I appreciate your offer, I do. I have told you this before, I appreciate...the care that it shows. But I am fine. I don't understand how I can say it more clearly, cousin. I do not want your help."

Bellatrix had loved Sirius. She had admired his spirit, laughing at the way he stuck a middle finger up at every stuffy rule and regulation. She'd valued the way he had never tried to cramp her into a box, labelling her like every other godforsaken male in their family. But he had been full of deceit. His betrayal had destroyed her. It had fuelled her rage and sent her spinning for the Dark Lord more brutally and determinedly than she had known possible. Even now, sitting here with Regulus, she couldn't help but see his brother's face and feel her skin crawling with latent ire. Revenge would be sweet - for Regulus, as much as for herself. She would lay down her life for her youngest cousin, though the fact that he didn't seem to value her devotion hurt. She refused to acknowledge it, focussing only on the fact that the rejection was because she was too intense. It was a selfless consideration for such an egocentric witch, though in large part inspired by her unwillingness to admit to her own weakness.

Not once did she cease her observations. Her eyes may have turned away, but she could feel Regulus squirming beside her despite his valiant attempts at holding composure. She was proud of that. He could wear a mask like the rest of them, painting a picture of noble strength and stoic integrity. So as he sat back casually, a smile snaked her lips, which curved indecorously behind the rim of her teacup. Placing it back onto the saucer, she slid it onto a side table and sat, staring unflinching at Regulus as he spoke. They were like a pair of statuettes, dark haired and pale skinned, the familial resemblance running as strong as the blood that fuelled their limbs. Little did she know the depth of Regulus's struggles. Long may she remain unaware, for it would not please her to kill him. She took pleasure in the devil's work, but that would cause her no satisfaction.

She listened to everything he had to say. Though she had a vested interest in his success - though she desired it tirelessly - she was clever and wily. She would not allow emotional instincts to drive her this time, knowing how he desired detachment - for whatever absurd reason. Not once did she move. Not until his voice sharpened with anger, inspiring yet another twist of approval through her porcelain skin. As the tea splattered across the saucer, she narrowed her eyes and considered him, waiting until his diatribe had ceased.

"You have pride, Regulus. Rightly so." Pointing a finger, her eyes expanded indicatively. "But don't let it come before a fall. There was no gossiping. It was a mission, there were updates, I was informed. Do not use my devotion to the Dark Lord as a way to distract me." She arched an eyebrow, stern despite the amusement that lightened her tone and curved her harsh lips. "Nice try but I'm not an idiot. I know what you're doing. Biscuit?" Flicking her wand, she hovered a tray towards her cousin, not thinking twice about combining a pleasant refreshment with this darker topic. As it floated between them, she picked up a ginger snap and studied it before taking a bite. "Which is your best Unforgiveable and which is your worst?"

Pandora never seemed to shy away from him, and it was that amongst other things that kept drawing him back. A firm hand pressed against the small of her back, pressing her to him. When the two of them were like this, the rest of the world seemed to fade away - there was only the curious, beautiful witch in front of him, and the hours that they could snatch away for themselves. Desire burned within his veins at the brief sharpness of her teeth, and he hummed a noise of approval. "Over, and over again," he vowed with a smirk.

Pandora's attention felt almost as powerful as the spell that had held him, though he knew that she was looking with a curious eye to see whether the magic worked. He'd spotted the brief flash of surprise in her eyes, though he knew that he had made it clear that Magnus was his only family. Anders Greyback was an unwelcome memory, but that was all. Fenrir hardly thought of the older man at all these days, and the only time he did was on mornings when he woke up with Magnus after the full moon and saw his son recovering better than young Fenrir ever had cooped away in that cellar under his father's hateful eyes.

Brushing the decades old bitterness towards his father away as Pandora summed up his patricide with simple words, Fenrir couldn't help but agree. "Fucking arsehole is more like it," he said, moving his arms to support her as she jumped him. "Oh, I know I am," he grinned, walking a few steps backwards to a nearby tree that he could press Dora against. After a few moments, he drew back ever so slightly, speaking against her lips. "Are we going back to mine? Do you need that clock still?"

A shiver rippled down Pandora's spine with the words he confessed to her. There were those she spent time with, but there was an appeal when she was the object of their desire and wanted to take her. Her teeth grazed along his bottom lip when he pulled from the kiss, a wanton need burning in her amber hues from him. The last thing she ever wanted to do was to tame Fenrir, it was his beast that called to her, captured her in this world they had built within the woods. "I know you will. You always make good on your word." There was sexual innuendo wrapped in her words, the anticipation slowly breaking her.

There was an intimacy formed being confined in his arms with him helping her achieve success with her spell. That he would be willing to take a risk for her and Fenrir would never know how much that would mean to her. Intent hues studies his facial features, his words, they surprised her, but she did not judge him. Pandora knew there was more to the story and when he was ready, he would tell her - her attention turned elsewhere.

An ecstatic smile appeared on her lips. It worked. Pandora couldn't contain the feelings that swirled inside of her, that all she wanted to do was to celebrate with him. "He was probably a jerk anyway." The words slipped free and she didn't waste time, wrapping her arms around his neck and jumping up that she could coil her legs around his waist. "You are so sexy." She murmured softly before capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

"There's a small dash of mustard in there too, and some nutmeg," he said. He may work in a pub kitchen, he may be looked down upon within society, but he saw no reason to serve shit food. He kept his employers happy, and they continued to turn a blind eye to the days off that he requested each month like clockwork. "I find that the two work very well together. Just the right balance of each, and some finely sliced potatoes and...voila, or whatever the French say."

"Oh cheddar and parmesan together is a great idea. Usually people shy away from combining two stronger flavor profiles but I do find that they compliment each other well."