quip fast, die young

Lily —- Lily was gone, and Viv couldn’t stop and think about that, she couldn’t, because then she’d start thinking, and when she started thinking, she could never seem to stop, and all she would be thinking about would be where Lily was —— who could have her —— what could have happened —— what state she was in —— and then maybe her fear would stop being fury, maybe it would become tears, and that wasn’t any help to anyone, least of all Lily.

She’d left the others under Rose’s guidance, with the map, but Viv couldn’t stand the waiting. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to stay in that room with Rose—-who Viv knew how to fight with, but they’d never fought about something that mattered, not like this—-but it was also that she couldn’t just stand there, waiting, not when she could be out here doing something. Doing what, she wasn’t quite sure, but she figured she’d know it when she saw it.

Then she caught sight of Odilia Travers, and boy, did she know it. She still didn’t know what she was thinking, what she was saying, only that they were in a corridor and Odilia Travers was there, with that fucking expression on her face, and all the blood was rushing through Viv, with all her worry and sheer, incandescent fury, and suddenly she was storming down the corridor, with nothing on her mind except asking Odilia what the fuck she did with Lily. She couldn’t prove it, but that didn’t matter right now —- everything coursing through Viv was sheer emotion and instinct, and she didn’t trust Odilia Travers, she hated Odilia Travers, and she had always learned how to trust her gut, and everything was saying that Odilia was involved somehow.

“Where the fuck is Lily, Travers?” Viv demanded, wand out, closing in on her. “Is this some sick joke you’re all playing, leaving her in the forest or some shit? Tell me!” And if she wasn’t thinking, if she was clenching her fist in readiness, if she had her wand out to duel but maybe also to parry —- well, that was just good instincts, really.

when: lunchtime  where: the great hall open to students

once, when he was very young, jasper talkalot had lost his family in diagon alley. he was certain they were right behind him (as they had all been looking into the window at quality quidditch supplies a moment ago), but, by the time he actually decided to check, there was no one there.  he had panicked for a moment, started walking off into the street, before he remembered an errant tidbit that he had learned a few weeks prior: most people lost in the woods often made things worse for themselves by journeying deeper into the unknown. this was not the woods, he knew, but he figured that it was still best to stay put, sitting down on the sidewalk and waiting for his mother to notice he was missing. 

thankfully, it hadn’t taken long. 

that day, as a panicked lucinda talkalot saw her eldest child sitting in the middle of a busy street staring off into the clouds, she couldn’t help but ask, “where is your head, jasper? what in the world is going on in your mind?”

he had started to say something about the woods, something about survival tips, but one of his siblings had interjected with a huff, “it’s just jasper, mom. you know how he is. he always has his head in the clouds.”

in the years since, he had thought of that moment often. and while he hadn’t appreciated the tone of voice being used, he had thought the descriptor rather apt. jasper was a simple man. he was hardly ever thinking about anything other than a few nebulous and flighty topics. his current preoccupations were quidditch (in which his head was literally in the clouds), on occasion, the object of his affections (which, in his view, was about as close to heaven and, thus, the clouds, as he was about to get) and his family (he admitted this one didn’t really quite fit the cloud metaphor.

nevertheless, it was, thus, unsurprising that, during their lunch break in the great hall, jasper had his head in the clouds again. when he finally grounded himself long enough to be aware of the world around him, his companion was looking at him like they expected him to say something. after trying to recall what they wanted from him and failing miserably, he took a bite from his sandwich, nonplussed.

“yes,” he said firmly, though he was not quite sure about what exactly he was agreeing to. 

“tell me this, though–” he changed the topic, “is it a cauldron full of hot strong love that goes like this,“ he hummed a few bars, “or is it magic magic man?“

“Yes,” Viv repeated, staring at him as if he’d grown a new head—-which she supposed might actually be a good thing in his case, seeing as he clearly wasn’t using his current one. “I ask you where Natalia is and you say yes. Aren’t you supposed to be good with words?” Rolling her eyes——fucking useless, honestly—at least as frustrating as Opal was, she was capable of intelligence——she nonetheless listened to his humming. “First of all, we’re not seventy, so weird playlist you’ve got going on here, but it’s Magic Magic Man —- can’t believe you would disrespect Celestina that way, though, good grief, Talkalot.” Viv had no particular affection for Celestina Warbeck’s discography, but Celestina was a musical icon and Quentin Nightingale had nothing on her and Viv would not stand for the disrespect. 

For the record, this question is bullshit. But, ugh, okay, Manon ( @manonmidgen​ ). Fussy and annoying but at least she’s not the bitch who stomped on my fucking face ( @gemmagamp​ ). That said, I’d willingly kiss her if she managed to do that to Gamp.

Zombie apocalypse? Better than cuddling one of the Wicked Witch’s ilk. Al’s ( @hungryhearted ) on my zombie apocalypse team, sorry Lou & Rosie —- we’ll be a battle couple, him collecting a throng of innocents to protect, being a leader and all, and me probably defending him and them. His height’s super unhelpful when trying to avoid zombies, but he’s pretty cute sometimes, so I’ll let it slide —- besides, he can be a beacon to the strays we collect, I guess? Silver linings, there you go, and James said I sucked at them, so suck on that, Jamie. All right, probably betray Louis ( @seekinglouis ), because I think he’ll survive that and honestly, probably reasonable enough not to take it too personally? He is dramatic (I’m allowed to say that, as his friend), so there’s that, but I think he’d take it over death. Can’t save the world/be a curse-breaking wunderkind with me/eventually take over the world if he’s dead, yeah? And I’m really sorry, Rose ( @bewareofthorns ), but I’ll have to kill you. I’m pretty sure you’d do the same to me to save Hugo, which is kind of comforting, and also while you’re totally smart, you probably come with the same issues as Lou when it comes to being annoying during the apocalypse (like, zombie apocalypses suck and it’s really shitty that this is happening to these people who never consented to become these things, but when we’re at risk of death in the middle of fighting them is super not the time for this discourse) and also you might not get over the betrayal option, so, death. Think of it this way —- you don’t have to decide whether or not it’s a war crime to kill a zombified house elf during the apocalypse if you’re dead.

Why do you hate me. All right, what the fuck ever. Marry, cuddle, sleep with, yeah? Marry Maddison ( @violentlongiings ), I guess —- she’s completely irritating and I do not and will not ever take back that punch, but she’s the least heinous out of them, probably an effect of having the personality of a fucking limpet. I guess sleep with Gemma ( @gemmagamp ), because if I wanted to get intimate with white woman evil, I’d live in a fucking Emma Stone movie. Which leaves cuddling Odilia ( @keepsschasing ). I’m going to be the big spoon, even if I’m shorter. Like fuck I’m letting my guard down with her at my back.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Fine. Fuck Al been there, done that ( @hungryhearted ), take a bullet for Ever ( @evergreenlongbttm ), murder Lils ( @hcro ). I would die in a heartbeat for any of them, I hope they know (they might not like it, but I hope they know it), but if these are the choices, then yeah. Obviously take a bullet for Ever, because who wouldn’t? I’ve had sex with Al, so might as well keep him around, and then Lils would do the same in my shoes (well, she’d probably swap Ever and Al around, for obvious reasons), because she knows I’d never want to live at the expense of one of them, and I know she would too.

location: diagon alley. date: 5th january 2024 for: @nerdjocktyrant

“are you alright”─ the sky breaks and its loud loud loud─ blackness unfurls from the split in reality and ancient winds whistle in his ear─ who’s screaming who’s fallen there’s blood, so much blood, and it stains the back of his knuckles─ throat burns with bygone language, gums split as mirrors of shattered prophecy grind between his teeth─ mum, i’m sorry i’m sorry i love you but i’m not going─

hugo blinked.

his cheeks felt hot; his fingers met wetness as his hands traveled from his sides to his face to his hair; his eyes darted around his surroundings, looking but not seeing.

“fuck,” the word clawed his throat to escape. he had to warn them. he had to do something.

the speech was so fucking boring. she had to hand it to them — they certainly figured out the least shocking way to take away half the students’ rights ( viv couldn’t figure out how the fuck they’d figure out how to suggest that quidditch was illicit for one house only, so she thought the gryffindor team would be safe for now —- unless they tracked it to the ma? her brow furrowed ) was to do it in such a boring fashion that most of the crowd would be zoning out.

throwing a sidelong glance to hugo, preparing to rejuvenate them both with a muttered commentary on the proceedings, viv’s brow knit as she watched him with rapidly growing concern. he seemed so —- panicked, except, well, not entirely present in it? she didn’t know what else to call it when his eyes were moving so quickly, when he seemed there-but-not, but everything about it felt alien to her bones.

“hugo, hey — hey, are you all right?”