RATIOS

GRYFFINDOR
19
HUFFLEPUFF
12
RAVENCLAW
15
SLYTHERIN
11
HOGWARTS
11
MINISTRY
18
MAGICAL
19
MUGGLE
1
FEMALES
52
MALES
53
NONBINARY
2
TOTAL
107

NEEDED: CANONS, PROFESSORS, HUFFLEPUFFS,
HOGSMEADEANS, AURORS, LADIES

MAY 2021

S
M
T
W
T
F
S
1
2
4
6
8
9
11
12
13
14
15
16
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
NEWS

11.26 - April OTMs are here!
11.18 - May Events are here!
11.18 - May Update is here!
11.12 - April OTM Submissions are here!
10.28 - NaNo 2017 is here!
10.23 - Information on Upcoming events here!
09.09 - March OTMs are here!
09.02 - April events are here!
09.02 - April update is here!



MAY 2021
Time advances and past traumas grow easier to forget, but dread gathers in the Wizarding World once more. Where do shadows go to hide? What do they do when no one is watching...?
MAY 1st-31st NOW OPEN

  C L O S E DTOPIC      POLL 

» 15 March 2021 | Secrets I have held in my heart, Max
Victoire Weasley
 Posted: Jul 18 2017, 10:57 PM
QUOTE     
Juni is Offline
128
posts
20 years old

Auror in training

UK
Ministry


For a while now, her apartment in London, the place she had been calling home for so long, didn't feel like home. Ever since the accidenta back in January, going back to that place felt strange, unnatural, it felt like it was the one place where she wanted to be, since she could hide from everything and everyone, but it was the one place where all her thoughts and fears finally caught up to her since the silence allowed her mind to be the loudest it could be. Now, though, it felt empty and unfamiliar despite knowing every single corner, despite having her own photographs hanging from the walls, despite the yellow Christmas lights that she had charmed to keep working, blinking, throught the year. It was almost as if every single time she walked out the door, she became a different person, so whenever she came back, she no longer felt comfortable. In the end, though, she was no longer the girl who fell in love with the place, who decided she wanted to have Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling, who wanted to live so far away from everyone she held most dear.

She had not other choice, though, it was her place, and she had to do her best to make it feel like home. Not now, though, not in that moment. The blonde was tired of traveling and had spent her entire day lying in bed after she came back from France. She simply left her trunks in the living room, having opened just one to put on the most comfortable clothes she could find, not even bothering to put back the clothes that she had thrown around as she looked for the specific ones she wanted to wear. Then, she searched for a book and read it until she fell asleep; barely ate because she didn't feel like doing much, especially because the realization that she was back in London, back to her old life, started to dawn upon her without any previous notice. It hit her all of a sudden, and she started thinking about the things she had to go back to, about the people she was missing, about the things she had ruined before leaving. But she had to start fixing things, right? Somehow, she figured.

In the end, once she finally felt like doing something, it was too late. So, Victoire decided to arrange the pictures she had taken in France, pick the ones she would keep for herself, and the ones she would send her family. So, after just pushing away the clothes on the floor, Victoire made room for her pictures on the living room floor, got herself a cup of tea and some biscuits, then sat down and started working. Or at least, that was the plan, one that was momentarily interrupted by the sudden apperance of the little paper with the a rose drawn in red ink. Every bit of her was filled with guilt since that was yet another thing that she somehow managed to ruin. The funny thing was, she thought, that they weren't even, well... A thing! Yet, she ruined it. Was that the only thing she would ever be good at? Destroying everything and everyone she knew? For a second or two she thought about throwing it away for she didn't think it was healthy to keep something that reminded her of yet another thing she lost... But she didn't.

She placed it on the coffee table, and for a second or two allowed the feelings and thoughts to come flooding back. She was back, back in London, and he didn't know; she didn't know where he was either. She missed her job, she missed the person she used to be, she missed believing that she could conquer the world... She missed him. Yes, he was... Him, she didn't dare use his name, fearing it'd make her miss him even more. Victoire heaved a heavy sigh and brought the cup of tea up to her lips to take a sip. She had to control herself, control her feelings, be an adult. Adults had to let go of things, move on, and try to repair whatever it was they broke, right? Something like that. To be entirely honest, she had never been good at being an adult, and she didn't even know if she wanted to be one! Thinking was too stressful, thinking about who she was supposed to be was stressful, so the girl simply put down the mug and started working on choosing the pictures she would keep.

Not too long after, Victoire managed to have the start of two stacks., the ones she would keep and the ones she would give to her family. But it was then that she heard a knock on the door. Did anyone but her family know that she was there now? Well, the people at work knew, a friend or two knew, but she figured that they would tell her, send her a letter or something? It was alright, though, she liked company and happened to be in terrible need of some in that moment, so she carefully stood up and walked to the door. Out of all the things she thought she would see in that moment, out of all the people she thought she would see so soon after coming back, the person she saw when she opened the door wasn't one of them. Her blue eyes opened wide, and she felt her heart skip a beat, or two... Hell, several!

And suddenly every single feeling she had been supressing came back stronger than before. Suddenly she missed him more than she had before, suddenly she hoped she had said something before leaving, she hoped she had showed up. More than anything, she missed him and she let that sink in; she wanted him there, and she let that sink in as well. "Max... Hello...?" She said. Ah, even his name. She liked it and had forgotten about it, but he was there now... Max... Maxwell Ramsey, with his deep blue eyes, and his mischievous smile, and all she wanted to do was hug him again, tell him she was sorry, tell him it was never her intention to ruin everything... But it was just that she couldn't help it, she ruined things.

@Cassandra
MESSAGE     
^
Maxwell Ramsey
 Posted: Jul 20 2017, 10:21 PM
QUOTE     
Cassandra is Offline
111
posts
22 years old

thief/fence

your house. oops.
Wizarding World


He was dragging his feet, and he knew it.

A day earlier Max had been in Hogsmeade, where no one would have imagined he had been able to step foot while the barrier was still intact. He had said goodbye to Nicky and led his father through the barrier to bring information to a Ministry he'd robbed. He'd betrayed the two most dangerous people he'd ever met with one decision, and Max knew it would be foolish to think that he could stick around and hope neither Hell nor James had anyone to listen or watch for them at the Ministry. Connecting one bright blue-eyed Ramsey to another wasn't a stretch, and even if his father lied for him like he said he would, someone would make something stick in a way that would make him wish he had left London weeks ago.

Home had never been a permanent thing for Max, and while this one had lasted longer than most, he should have already been gone. Romantic notions about loved ones providing a sense of home had never felt true to Max, and he was sure he had never been in love. No one had found security in his heart because he could not understand what it meant to be secure. No one mattered more than a favorite toy mattered, and he had always been the sort of boy who took apart his toys to see what made them work. It should have been so easy to leave, to discard the meager belongings he had gathered and dump his books for donation, to set Sal aside with Mateo and hope that Nicky and Lyds, Mum and even Elias chose to be angry with him for leaving and not to pursue. It should have been the simplest thing he'd ever done--after all, abandonment was in his blood. Why, then, was he wandering past her flat so late at night?

Why was her light on? The corners of his mouth turning down in a frown around the cigarette stuck between his lips, Max shielded his eyes and looked up toward the light that had appeared in the window of her flat. Victoire was supposed to have been in France, where she had gone not long after she had offered him something delicate like I miss you and he had tossed it to the ground as carelessly as he had always done. He had pretended he hadn't agreed to meet her for a drink, and then she had gone and he had mistakenly thought he could put her out of his mind.

Once more, and it would have to be over because he would have to be gone. Max was already through the front door (locks? What locks?) and halfway up the stairs before he told himself how terrible of an idea this was. Maybe he deserved a little pain before he left. Maybe he needed the reminder that he was supposed to be used and gone and temporary in order to separate himself from a place he had stayed too long. He hadn't even put his cigarette out until he got to her door, and he furrowed his brow at the slight sting he felt from crushing the butt out with his forefinger and thumb. There was a callous there from having invited that small burn so many times before, and he waved his hand to be rid of a fleeting thought--had she noticed the feeling against her skin?

He took a breath, scrubbed a hand through his hair, and knocked.

When she opened the door, he breathed. His shoulders settled for the first time since the beginning of the goddamn month and he shook his head, uncertain what to do with himself. Even knowing he deserved every second of the feeling, how could someone hurt just to look at? The way her eyes were set wide in her face, following a delicate nose down to a perfect mouth. This close, he could see the faint freckles that played across her face. Once, he had thought he might want to steal a girl like her. Then, he had.

Before he spoke, Max closed the distance between them and slid a hand around her waist. He brushed that calloused thumb against her jaw and tipped her chin up so he could meet her lips with his as if he had never done anything wrong. If she pushed him away hard, that would be easiest for both of them. If she could just please, please push him… "Hello, treasure. I saw your light."

@Juni
MESSAGE     
^
Victoire Weasley
 Posted: Jul 22 2017, 11:05 AM
QUOTE     
Juni is Offline
128
posts
20 years old

Auror in training

UK
Ministry


She never thought she would see him there, standing outside the door, making every feeling she tried to push away, and deny with every bit of strength she had in her body, simply take over because she could no longer defend herself against them. She figured that after what she did, after having disappeared without a word, after not even having the decency to tell him that she didn't have the guts to show up when she was supposed to, she would no longer have to face him. It had been a one time thing anyway, she remembered that, she rememebred the conversation they had during New Year's Eve, but she kept going back to him, and now... Could she say that he was coming back to her? Could she say that someone who was as much of a flight risk as he was could actually be there because he was coming back to her?

She was thinking too much, and despite their encounters having been about the opposite of that, Victoire found herself thinking way too much when it came to Maxwell Ramsey, maybe even missing him too much, maybe even studying the details of every single conversation they had, and the way he smiled at her, the way he looked at her. A wave of feelings and thoughts came to her in that moment, but she still didn't know what to do, she still didn't know what to say to him... That was, of course, until words were no longer necessary, for all of a sudden she felt his hand on her waist, making a strange kind of heat run all through her body, making her heart stop working properly once again.

Then his lips were on hers, and it felt as if she could just disappeared in his arms, completely dissolve, and get lost in that kiss, however light, and innocent it was, compared to others they had had before. If his presence there took her by surprise, the kiss shocked her to the point that even after it was done, all she could do was stare at him with blue eyes wide open, yet full of confusion. "I came back yesterday," she said, her voice soft. "I was in France. I had to go... Go away, I mean. I had to, they told me to, I guess it makes sense, considering everything. But I had to," Victoire said to him, looking down at her slender fingers as she gently tugged at the hem of his shirt, grazing against his skin from time to time. It almost felt as if she was explaining herself to him, explaining why she disappeared, why she didn't say she was sorry for not showing up, why she never again told him she missed him even if the feeling cut through her like a knife.

Before saying anything else, and with a quick motion, the blonde leaned closer to him, her hand resting on the side of his neck as she pressed her lips against his once again. Oh, she was in so deep that she could no longer feel the ground beneath her feet, and she was drowning, yet she enjoyed suffocating in this feeling that she knew could very easily become just another situation she could have avoided. She didn't want to avoid it, though, she wanted to dive right into it, and was it a good idea? Maybe not, since they had never been a good idea anyway; they even started out as a terrible one, in fact!

But she still kissed him, and did it because she missed him, missed the taste of his lips, and how his skin felt under her touch. "What are you doing here, Ramsey?" She asked as she pulled away. "Not that I don't want you here. But you're really good at hiding when you want to, and now you're here. I got good at running, though! Did you see? Ran all the way across the ocean," she said, giggling softly, dropping her eyes once again as she sank her teeth into her bottom lip. "I outdid myself, even beat you, but I missed you." Who would've thought that she'd run away just as far and fast as he did? Who would've thought that she'd simply tell him that she missed him? But she did, and stared right into his eyes when she did so. Even if her cheeks were bright red and her smile was nervous, she did it. Maybe they weren't that different afterall, she thought, they both ran and hid, and came back even if it was probably not the best idea. Did he come back to her? Maybe that was hoping for too much, but she liked the sound of that.

@Cassandra

This post has been edited by Victoire Weasley: Jul 22 2017, 11:05 AM
MESSAGE     
^
Maxwell Ramsey
 Posted: Jul 24 2017, 10:10 PM
QUOTE     
Cassandra is Offline
111
posts
22 years old

thief/fence

your house. oops.
Wizarding World


All he thought he wanted was for her to push him away, but he had caught her lips with his and now met her blue eyes wide and full of confusion. He met them guiltlessly. This was how he was. He was a confusing mess, a vandal and a thief, and she did not know it. If she hadn’t come up against him in the Department of Mysteries, if he hadn’t stunned her and left her lying on the ground among the clocks, would she have behaved differently at Hogwarts Station when the tracks had been destroyed? She should have pushed him, and instead she pulled and met his lips again with hers, explaining that she’d had to go to France on some sort of forced leave from the Ministry.

His first impulse was to lie about having gone to meet her for drinks. If she had been in France, there was no way she could have known. Before he had committed to the decision, she had leaned away from their second kiss and Max’s wits felt slowed. “I never went to meet you.” He admitted. He glanced away, allowing his hand to drift down her arm and collect hers, intertwining their fingers. “And I feel pretty shit about it, Treasure, because…” He shifted, shaking his head and unwilling to open his ribcage and expose his heart that clearly. Feelings had never been easy to talk about for Max, and Victoire Weasley’s beautiful face hadn’t done anything to change that. The only thing she’d changed was that he had felt something at all, and even then he had no idea how she had done it. He had thought himself immune to the sort of vulnerability required to let people get truly close to him, and now he was twenty-two and had never allowed it at all. It was easy to get lost in the curve of her jaw or the shape of her eyes, and easy to forget that he would run or she would run and they would hurt, each time he saw those playful freckles.

He stepped forward, urging her deeper into her flat with him as she told him that very thing. She knew he would run, and that she had gotten good at it too…and still, she said she missed him. Desperately, he had missed her. He had seen her in every drawing of every beauty he had created for Scarrs’. He had drowned himself in liquor and bad decisions since she’d gone, so certain that he had ruined whatever small thing it was between them. It would have been safer for both of them if he had burned them both, and he’d gotten so good at it that it was a wonder to him that he hadn’t managed here. “Sweet, you know how bad of an idea someone like me is. Catastrophic.” He murmured, teasing her lips with a light brush of his own, lingering to allow himself her when he breathed.

Her cheeks had reddened, reminding him of the little flower he had left her months ago, and Max reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear as he moved her backwards, wondering if he should say he missed her or explain why he was here. Silence lingered between them instead, and Max continued to slowly tease her backward, until her legs hit gently against the edge of her bed. This was what she wanted him for, wasn’t it? He could have this one more time before he broke them, this time with far too many words. He would start with a simple admission and wrap himself in her and hope she forgot, or rejected him, or anything else but cause him to admit how she stole her way into his thoughts with alarming frequency. She stole his breath and his sense, and he had told her as many lies as there were clocks in the hall where he had turned his wand on her. If Hell or James didn’t kill him, Victoire would.

“…because I missed you.” Reaching up to allow his thumb to drift across her chin, he pressed a kiss to her neck and leaned her back.

Fade to black
@Juni (with permissions)
MESSAGE     
^
Victoire Weasley
 Posted: Aug 4 2017, 01:32 PM
QUOTE     
Juni is Offline
128
posts
20 years old

Auror in training

UK
Ministry


It was strange, she thought, how she felt as if she could just get lost in his eyes, how he met hers without fear, or at least that's what it seemed; how she felt that looking right into his eyes meant that she needed to be brave, that she needed to be strong, especially because no matter how hard she tried to keep herself together around him, she knew he could make her slowly fall apart in the best way possible. But was it a good idea? With him? With Maxwell Ramsey? Maybe she was far past the time when she had to stop and think about what they were doing, what they meant to each other, because now he was there, and she wanted to hold him close to her, wanted to kiss him, wanted to think that even if just for a second, Maxwell Ramsey was all hers, even if she knew that it was possibly the stupidest thought she could have.

He never went to meet her. Funny, wasn't it? A few soft giggles escaped from Victoire's mouth, her blue eyes looking down at their hands, their fingers intertwined. She never went to meet him either, she hadn't been brave enough to even send him a letter telling him that she didn't go, that she wouldn't go, she simply didn't go, and it seemed as if the same thing happened to him. It was funny, and she couldn't help but giggle at how bad they seem to be at this. "I didn't either, babe, we're even, I guess," she said, in between soft giggles. They didn't go to where they were supposed to go, and they ran, Max was good at running, and she had never ran as fast and far as she did now, so she couldn't help but think that they were worst at this than any other average human. Yet, somehow, they were there, in that moment, together, and she wasn't sure of what it meant, but she liked it.

Oh, but he didn't need to tell her that he was a bad idea, that he was catastrophic. Again, Victoire giggled, freeing her hand from his order to let her fingers graze against his jaw, against his neck, before coming to rest on his shoulder. "Do you know how catastrophic we are, Max?" She was well aware that they were a bad idea, but a bad idea she very much enjoyed, one she had missed while she had been in France, one that she was willing to repeat again and again without thinking of whatever consequences could stem from it. It was specially hard when he was so close, when she could feel his lips against hers, when she was threading her fingers in his hair, when she felt his skin under her her fingers, and his body against hers... And when he was telling her he missed her.

And it was then that she let herself go, that she let herself fall, and collapse in his arms, in the taste of his kiss, and the way it felt when there was nothing between them. All the feelings that she had tried so hard to keep at bay were suddenly stronger than she was, and impossible to stop, knowing that he had missed her allowed the most frightening yet hopeful thought to come back to her... That in that moment he was hers, she actually had, even if just in that moment, the boy who could never be caught, who ran faster than anyone, and no one was fast enough to catch him. She could no longer think about being careful, about being smarter than this, for all she wanted was precisely this... Him, and her with her with her fingers in his hair, feeling his skin against hers, the warmth of his body, and the comfort of his company. Yes, the comfort of his company.

***

Was it weird that she was finally seeing just how beautiful he was? She knew he was beautiful, but as her fingers ran along his jaw, then down to his neck, and his collarbone, somehow she couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful he actually looked. Was she allowing too many feelings to cloud her good judgement? Definitely, and she hoped that she could maybe think a little bit more clearly after this, but at the same time she didn't want him to go. So, the blonde sighed, allowing her lips to curve into a small smile. "What... Brought you back, Max?" She asked quietly, gently tapping her fingers against his shoulder as she leaned closer to press her lips against his. "To this, I mean... To me, I guess? Unless, you just like bragging that you're so cool that you slept with a Veela," she said, jokingly, giggling.

She had to make a joke or she would just collapse, she knew that, because after everything that happened, she needed to know, and she had never been one to measure her words or her actions, when she wanted to say something she said it, if she wanted to do something, she did it. In the end, that's why she ended up getting in so much trouble. "I mean, I don't mind, I brag about you, too, have you seen yourself?" She asked, grinning mischievously as she tapped his nose. Then, though, she sighed, and glanced away, trying her best not to spoil everything, but... Then again, she was good at that, wasn't she? "Don't run, Max. If you run, I run, and we keep running the other way, do you know how annoying that is? I've done stupid shit in my life, people died because of the stupid shit I've done. Don't run, Max, I can handle it. I can handle this, this... Horrible idea, I can handle it," she said.

There she went again, saying too much, feeling too much, but she couldn't help herself. And, once again, she stared right into his eyes, pretending to be a lot braver than she actually felt in that moment, trying her very best to prove that she was stronger than she felt. But she had always been that way, trying to be strong, trying to be brave, and somehow this required twice as much of those things than anything she had experienced lately. He was Maxwell Ramsey, and they were a bad idea, she knew, but she couldn't help but need him. So, she pressed her lips against his once more, trying to forget that everything she just said could very well ruin everything. Oh, why did she keep doing this, she had to find another talent. Really.

@Cassandra

This post has been edited by Victoire Weasley: Aug 4 2017, 01:32 PM
MESSAGE     
^
Maxwell Ramsey
 Posted: Aug 10 2017, 11:26 PM
QUOTE     
Cassandra is Offline
111
posts
22 years old

thief/fence

your house. oops.
Wizarding World


Do you know how catastrophic we are, she had asked, and Max needed only to feel her fingers against his jaw to feel a small thread of guilt that stiched his wrongs to his skin where she touched. He banished the feeling as quickly as it arrived, reaching over to run his thumb along the freckles on her cheeks. What had brought him back? He had seen a bit of her in every drawing he'd done since the last time she had been at his flat. If he was going to get himself killed--and at the rate he was going, he certainly might--at least he could try to make her a little happier before he did. "Don't be silly, Treasure. There aren't any Veelas as pretty as you." he teased her, deftly avoiding her question (for now) with a compliment and a kiss, followed by a light brush of his lips against each corner of her mouth.

She wouldn't let him escape so easily, and when she asked him not to run Max forgot her compliment and sat up in her bed, reaching for his cigarettes on the floor. "Shit." he murmured, scratching at the newest ink he had tattooed along his forearm absently, failing to meet her eyes while she bared her soul to him. She thought she could handle this, but she had no idea what he'd already done to her. After a while of lying, a mind wanted to accept a falsehood for a truth. Max wondered if he could lie to himself enough to forget why he was so wrong for Victoire. "Shit. You're just going to ask me straight out like that, are you?"

He exhaled, scrubbing his hand roughly through his hair, and met her question with a shrug. "I'm not any good at healthy relationships, love. Ah, don't look at me like that." he mumbled, turning his eyes away from her again after he had dared to glance and found her staring. She could not press her wishes for them and make them stick to his faithless heart, but neither could he get her out of his head. A moment ago he had been convinced he could try and make her happier before he got himself irrevocably screwed, and now Max had no idea at all where that attitude had gone. He was afraid, and the touch of her lips to his once more only tightened that fear around his throat.

"I don't know. I don't know. I can't stop thinking about you. Shit. I'm going to break your heart if you give it to me." he warned her, softly. Don't run. Her words echoed in his head, and Max fidgeted with one of his cigarettes, finding comfort with it in his hands even unlit. "Don't give it to me, Vic. Someday, you're going to find someone who makes this easy. Don't you…" Merlin, he wanted her. The words felt pulled from his chest, painful. He shifted anxiously, and chewed at his thumbnail. He reached up to rub at the back of his neck, unable to be still when every fibre of his being was urging him to run. "Don't you want it to feel easy?" It was a weak argument, this one that he had given her, but Max wasn't sure he had the courage to look her in the eyes and refuse her. He already knew he was spineless, but he had to give her one last chance to go before he committed what was possibly the most utterly selfish act he had considered in some time. He wanted her. Maybe he was even falling for her, but he sure as hell knew he didn't deserve her.

@Juni
MESSAGE     
^
Victoire Weasley
 Posted: Aug 18 2017, 11:51 PM
QUOTE     
Juni is Offline
128
posts
20 years old

Auror in training

UK
Ministry


Victoire knew she talked too much, she knew that she didn't think before acting, before letting the words escape from her mouth, before screwing up her entire life, her career, the one stable relationship she had with one of the most decent boys she had ever met. It was something she couldn't stop, no matter how hard she tried to stop herself. And now, now she knew that she had definitely said too much, she bared too much, and from the start they agreed that this didn't meant a thing, that it would not become anything, that whatever they did would be nothing but a night or two that they spent together, that whatever they felt would disappear in the morning. It didn't, though, no matter how hard she tried to keep the feelings at bay and the thoughts away from her head. Hell... She left, she went to France, and both things followed her there.

So, yes, she was really just going to ask him. "Yes, I want to know. And I've always been very bad at not asking and keeping my mouth shut," Victoire told him, her brows furrowing. He told her, she remembered that, he told her she wouldn't like him if she really knew him, but just as in every other aspect of her life, when she was told that she couldn't get close to something or something, it was precisely the one thing that she wanted to do, to get close enough to know what could possibly be so terrible that she needed to stay away. But she didn't want to stay away, not from him, not from this, she tried that already and kept wishing she could be with him, even if she tried her best to tell herself that it was probably not the best idea. She wanted to know what he felt, why he was there, she wanted to have a real reason to stay, not just because she was stubborn and wanted what she couldn't have.

He wasn't good at healthy relationships? Well, she wasn't either. She had one, screwed it up, and somehow manage to screw it up twice, even if the second time they weren't even together. Victoire liked to believe that she was stronger now, at least a little bit, because she had been through enough during the past few months and she liked to think that, even if it still hurt to her very core, she was stronger, her heart was steel and it could take whatever life threw at her, even beautiful Maxwell Ramsey, it could take him. "If I want it to be easy?" She asked him, frowning, leaning away from him. "If I want it to be easy? No, I don't want it to be easy. What the hell, Max? No, I don't want easy, I don't want anyone to make it easy for me. I want you. That's what I want, I want you. I don't need easy, I just want you." She felt her cheeks start burning the moment those words left her mouth, her blue eyes opened wide at the sound of such admission. There it was, it was out there now. He knew.

With a groan, Victoire fell on her back and looked up at the ceiling, at the little stars she had up there, she looked at how they kept shining because of the spell she used on them. "You don't get to tell me you're going to break my heart, Max," she said quietly. "You don't get to decide that that's what's going to happen if I give it to you before it even happens. You don't get to... Tell me you're going to do that before even giving me a chance because I'm Victoire, and I feel too much, and because I feel, I don't think. No, Max, you don't get to do that," the blonde told her, anger suddenly coloring her voice despite it sounding soft still, but it was there, the edge of anger that she couldn't hide. "I want you, Max. And I want you to be brave enough to tell me that you want me too. Not that you're going to break my heart. That requires zero effort, you're just running away... Again. I want you, and I want you to be brave and tell me that you want me too."

Finally, the blonde turned to look at him again, though only for a moment or two, for she quickly glanced away and concentrated on the little stars on her ceiling while her fingers anxiously played and tugged at the blanket covering her. She wanted to hug him again, kiss him again, she wanted to feel him close... And he was close, but she stopped herself from reaching out to him, and kept her fingers busy to help herself do so. She wanted him, she really did, wanted all of him, but her heart...? It was hers, and because it was hers she could decided if she wanted it broken, but she needed to know if, even if it would end up broken, she could give it to him in the first place.

@Cassandra
MESSAGE     
^
Maxwell Ramsey
 Posted: Aug 24 2017, 09:56 PM
QUOTE     
Cassandra is Offline
111
posts
22 years old

thief/fence

your house. oops.
Wizarding World


"I'm not trying to tell you to keep your mouth--ahh," Max protested, cutting himself off with an exasperated huff. He narrowed his eyes, moody and sullen from having no choice but to address not only any feelings he might have for Victoire, but also exactly how much of a cruel move it would be to allow himself to indulge them. She had already weathered such a tremendous amount of trouble for her job, her family, and her personal life. Some of it had nothing to do with him at all; some of the fault lay much more directly in his hands. If her bosses knew she was inviting one of the thieves who had stolen into the Ministry into her bed, she would more than lose her job. He might land her in Azkaban alongside him, if she stayed by his side. The worst part about this all was that he wanted her to stay, despite how bad he knew he would be for her. She could die, if James or Hellebora knew about her. She would lose everything, if her people knew about him. He might die either way, and wish she'd agreed when he asked her to be easy on her heart.

With his hand still on the back of his neck where he had put it to echo his frustration, Max dug his fingernails in, hard enough to imprint beneath his hairline. With his free hand, he brought his cigarette up to tap against his lip. He still hadn't answered her about why he had come back, why he had seen her light on the street and, fighting against every fibre of his being, walked up the stairs. While he might have escaped having to give her an answer for now, the alternative was facing her irritation over what he'd said about easy. "You see, treasure? Half a second in and I'm already destroying us." he joked, his smirk lazier than he felt when the adrenaline from that simple word pierced his heart. Us. Us.

She was angry with him, and all he wanted was to leave. Without asking her if it was alright, Max pulled himself up to stand and padded barefoot across the floor. He stepped over his clothing and went to sit by the window. Vulnerability had never come to him through being physically exposed--or at least, if it had, he had welcomed it. Vic had bared herself emotionally and the honesty that had come from her wide eyes had stripped away his protections just as easily. Max opened the window and lit his cigarette, extending his arm from his seat on the floor so that most of the smoke could escape. The wind was bitter cold against his skin, but the wind wasn't the only thing that had risen goosebumps on his arms. "Why?" he asked, finally. "Why do you want me? Shit, I'm not brave, Victoire. I'm not even good. I ruin people because it's fun for me. Do you think I gave a fuck about what happened to Teddy Lupin when I kissed you? I'm not brave. I'm not kind." he insisted. Brow furrowed, he took a long drag from his cigarette.

Max reached his hand out of the window to ash, glancing down at his bare feet against her floor. He laughed, a strangled, frustrated laugh that felt like a hand closing around his throat. "But I want you anyway. I'm a ruin, love. What can I even give you that half of London hasn't already chewed up and spat out anyhow?" He shook his head, taking another anxious drag from his cigarette. Weak, wasn't he? She had barely had to push him for him to submit to her, despite how bad he knew he would be. This wasn't any way to treat someone who cared. All Victoire was trying to do was stay, but all Max had ever experienced was temporary. He might have loved her for it, if he hadn't been so desperately afraid.

@Juni
MESSAGE     
^
Victoire Weasley
 Posted: Aug 27 2017, 10:10 PM
QUOTE     
Juni is Offline
128
posts
20 years old

Auror in training

UK
Ministry


Why was this so complicated? Maybe he was right, maybe she had to be smarted than she was being in that moment, maybe she had to realize that being with someone should not have to be as painful, as hard as this was. Maybe he was right, maybe she had to find someone who made it easy for her, who didn't make her feel as if whatever this was would fall apart in a matter of seconds, all because of one word, maybe an action, maybe even a feeling that slipped through and it wasn't supposed to. But she wanted this, that was the problem, she wanted Max and his complications, his way of running away, the way he seemed to care without it being horribly obvious. She wanted him, his embrace, his eyes, everything, and it hurt to think that she did. It hurt to think that she told herself not to be stupid, that this meant nothing, and she found herself wanting it to be something, wanting them to be something.

Us, he said, and the words resonated in her head, she felt it in her body, she felt the waves of the sound of that word coming from his mouth, felt it making her heart stop altogether for a second. For a moment, Victoire turned to look at him, studied his features, the way he smirked, and the way that smirk, though it made her want to stay there, looking at it for the rest of the night, also made her feel terribly annoyed. It was just that she was prepared for an excuse after that smirk, and she didn't want an excuse, she wanted him to be honest and brave and tell her that she wanted her. Or... That he didn't want her. She could take it, she was stronger now, and she could take it, but she needed to know what he was feeling, what he wanted. Frowning, Victoire looked away again, wondering if it had been a good idea to simply let it all out, tell him everything, fill the air with all the feelings she had been holding close to her heart, hidden deep within her.

The blonde sat up when he got out of bed, and her blue eyes followed his every movement. He ruined people, he wasn't good, he wasn't brave... Did she know those things? Maybe, or at least she knew that it was a bad idea, that they were a bad idea. But as bad an idea as they were, she wanted him to want it as much as she did. "I don't care, Max. That happened years ago, I don't care if you cared , you didn't have to care anyway, you weren't the one in a relationship with him, you weren't the one who knew it was wrong and still did it. You didn't have to care, Max. You didn't make me want to kiss you. I did it, I wanted it, I had to care and I didn't." Victoire told him as she got out of bed, pulling the blanket along with her. She wouldn't let him blame himself for ruining her relationship with Teddy.

She reached for his shirt and put it on since the cold air coming from the window was making her shiver. It didn't offer much coverage, that was true, but at least she didn't feel as exposed anymore. And oh, did she feel exposed in that moment, as if he could see everything, her every thought, her every fear, every feeling that was taking over and causing a turmoil within her. It was too late to take it back now, though. So, she took a deep breath and walked closer to him. "I don't care about half of London, Max," she said, draping the blanket she had brought with her over his shoulders. "They had you before. I want you now, right now. Fifteen hundred others could have had you, but they don't have you now. And I want you now," Victoire told him, running her fingers through his hair.

"Why do you do that? Why if I tell you I want you, and I want to be with you... You try to convince me otherwise? What are you doing? Are you trying to convince me to... Not want this, or are you trying to convince yourself?" She asked him, still running her fingers through his hair. "I fancy you, Ramsey, in case you didn't know that... And you're so hard to... Fancy," Victoire told him, giggling softly as she reached out to pinch his cheek. He was complicated, and mysterious; he was dangerous, and handsome, he was all she wanted and could think about. It would ruin them maybe, she knew that much and was perfectly aware of it, but life itself would ruin them anyway.

@Cassandra
MESSAGE     
^
Maxwell Ramsey
 Posted: Sep 3 2017, 12:30 PM
QUOTE     
Cassandra is Offline
111
posts
22 years old

thief/fence

your house. oops.
Wizarding World


In a split-second of weakness he had allowed the two of them to go from Vic and Max to some undefined us, and Maxwell could only jab the cigarette in his hand uncomfortably against his lower lip. She looked beautiful, slipping into his shirt to come and join him on the floor, and for a moment Max could see a sort of comfort in the way she wore it. This must be how other people felt when they looked at their lovers years later, he thought. Other people felt this, but never him; Max had resigned himself long ago to being the sort of person who was unsuitable for the everyday comfort of waking in the morning to a face he knew well enough to draw from memory. They had pretended, that one morning in January, but it was wrong for him to want that from her now.

Wrong had never deterred him before, and guilt was never strong enough to keep him away from something or someone he might leave destroyed in his wake. The others had always deserved it, he told himself. Too stupid to catch onto his games, too oblivious to notice what he took and what he concealed was what he had convinced himself applied to everyone else he toyed with, stole from. Victoire wasn't stupid or oblivious, but neither was his guilt strong enough to keep him away from her. This time, it was simply that he wanted her, and he was too weak to do the right thing and keep himself away. He wanted to know more, he wanted to know her--he wanted her, plain and simple, but he didn't have faith enough in himself to think he could keep her. The pain of calling her his and losing her might be too much for his cowardly heart, and then where would he find a mess big enough to break him harder for a distraction? Lose her, he would. Not even his creative mind could come up with a scenario where he wouldn't, not yet...but if he could trust her to be his comfort, maybe that was something he could someday wake up to. Her hands in his hair and the blanket she had rested over his shoulders was enough to allow him to close his eyes and pretend.

The arrogance of that thought was enough to make his stomach turn, but he looked up to meet her eyes when she pinched at his cheek anyway, breaking himself out of his sullen, smoky silence. "Yes, treasure, I'm trying to convince you off of me. I'm not strong enough to convince myself off you. Why else do you think I'm here? Your face is in my every drawing of a beautiful woman--do you know what a colossal effort it's been to change them all? I'm simply uncomfortable stamping you across some hag's ass." he joked, an impish smirk quirking at the corners of his mouth.

Reaching for her, Max tilted his face up to plant a kiss on her stomach before returning to his cigarette. "It's something like fifteen-hundred, I think." he mumbled, shaking his head at her exaggeration of those who might have had him. To think she might want him for more than just a tumble… "What if I can't keep faithful to you, Vic? I've got a tendency to...try and slip bonds, you know. I'm not in danger of developing feelings for any--" He halted abruptly, scratching at his face where it had started to redden uncomfortably, thumbing at one of his ears. "Well, shit. There it is I guess." The admission slipped from his lips closer to a whisper than anything else. He couldn't look at her. "I wanted this--" he gestured between the two of them with his hand that held his cigarette. "--to be nothing, but it isn't nothing, treasure. It's something. It's something to me."

@Juni

MESSAGE     
^
Victoire Weasley
 Posted: Sep 6 2017, 10:37 PM
QUOTE     
Juni is Offline
128
posts
20 years old

Auror in training

UK
Ministry


It wouldn't mean anything, she remembered herself saying that during New Year's eve. She remembered herself thinking that he was just Maxwell Ramsey, the person she snogged that day when she was still in school, he was handsome, dangerous, he made her want him in the most superficial and physical of ways that could possibly exist. As she stood there, though, wearing his shirt, having him in her room, Victoire couldn't help but go back to the moment when she saw him that December night, simply because she didn't plan for anything else to happen between them, she didn't plan for her to miss him, to want him, to tell him that she did want to be with him. It was unexpected, and to a certain extent she knew that it was borderline self destructive behavior, wanting to be with someone who kept trying to tell her to stay away because she would be better off that way... But she couldn't help herself.

The blonde blushed when she heard her words, and tried to suppress a smile, one that came from an odd combination of glee and arrogance - she liked to think she was important enough, liked to think she meant something to him, and thinking such things made a strange warm and rather tingly feeling to appear within her. "Don't try to convince yourself off me," Victoire told him, reaching out to stroke his hair, this time unable to stop herself from smiling at least a little bit. "And don't try to convince me off you," she added, her voice softer, her smile slowly fading. She knew what it meant to be with him, she had been thinking about it ever since she left for France, but he was there now... And she liked the feeling that came from knowing that at least for now, at least in this moment, he was hers, just hers. She was stubborn, and she wanted him, wanted his company just as much as she wanted to feel his skin against hers.

Maybe, though, he wasn't hers, and it was a thought that just came to her when she heard him ask what would happen if he wasn't faithful, if he wanted to be with someone else. Sure, feeling his lips against her skin for a bit did calm her down a little, but now her mind could not stop wondering, her mind could not stop considering what would happen if they ever fully gave into this reckless thing they had going on, a thing that didn't even have a name just yet. Hell, a thing they couldn't even understand! But Victoire was stubborn. So, she ran her fingers through his hair once again, letting her hand rest on the back of his neck before she leaned in to press her lips to his temple. "I just want to know you're mine, Max," the blonde admitted before sitting down next to him. "Don't slip anyway, don't slip away, Max. I don't..." Yes, she wanted to him, but... She didn't want to trap him. "If you want to be with me, be with me. If you want me, then want me. But... Tell me, tell me you want me and you want to be with me. If... If you don't, then... Then tell me, tell me that too. I can take it."

There it was, she didn't want to trap him, even if she wanted him, if she wanted him close, she didn't want him to feel obligated. "We set ourselves on fire, Max, we do that without anyone's help, we do that ourselves. If this... Whatever it is... Means more to you than anyone you could ever sleep with, then I don't care. I want you coming back to me, Max," Victoire told him, slowly sitting down next to him, her blue eyes fixed on him, on his face, studying his expression, taking in the shape of his face, the color of his eyes, the way he looked when he was smoking. He was beautiful, he was so close and she didn't yet know if she could call such a beautiful creature just hers. Maybe she would never be able to do that, maybe she was pushing her luck. "If you want to come back to me when you leave, Max... Then that's all I want." She had to give him another option, right? She had to allow him to leave if he wanted, she had to give him a way out if this became too much for him, if this just wasn't what he really wanted. "If you want, Max. If you want me, and... This."

@Cassandra

This post has been edited by Victoire Weasley: Sep 6 2017, 10:40 PM
MESSAGE     
^
Maxwell Ramsey
 Posted: Sep 8 2017, 10:26 PM
QUOTE     
Cassandra is Offline
111
posts
22 years old

thief/fence

your house. oops.
Wizarding World


The smile on her face was radiant, and maybe that look of triumph shouldn't have made Max as nervous as it did. It was difficult to avoid feeling phenomenally nervous when he looked at her, and impossible to assign her to the same careless category he pushed everyone else into. Her hands were in his hair again, and Max reached up to collect one and hold it with both of his to the side of his face. His eyes closed. All he could think of was when or if she would uncover his lies, and how much time he had until she regretted touching him in the first place. "What a brave lioness you are, treasure." he teased, tilting his head forward as her hand came to rest at the back of his neck. "I've tried to convince myself, but I'm not especially strong willed. That's why you're the Auror and I'm the artist in the shitbox scratch parlor in Knockturn."

Mine. She kept saying it, and each time she did Maxwell's stomach twisted nervously. He looked away from her again, even as she sat down next to him, even as he felt his hand reach for hers and lace their fingers together without his permission. "How fast can you run, treasure? Maybe you can keep up with me, after all." It sounded like a hopeless idea if ever he had uttered one, but his selfishness was winning out against his common sense. He allowed that to happen much more than was decent, and Victoire didn't deserve that...but he wanted her. Nothing was right or good in his life except for this brilliant girl who somehow, for some reason wanted him.

The offer that she made him had Max turn to look at her, searching her expression for clues. He smiled when he caught her doing the exact same thing, and lifted his cigarette to his mouth. The idea that she truly wanted him enough to offer him physical freedom was almost unfathomable, but it instantly caused him to relax a little. He was probably going to screw up. No, he was almost guaranteed to screw up, but she had already forgiven him his easiest and most frequent failure. Maybe with a girl like her, he'd think a little less about destroying himself. Maybe, when he considered what he was doing to her, he'd think about it a little more.

"Maybe I want to be yours, precious." he murmured, running his little finger along hers as their hands were locked together. This was selfish, but here he was. No one he was supposed to belong to had ever wanted to call him theirs before. "I'll tell you what: you'll be the only one I wake up to. I'll come back to you before the sun comes up, because what man needs more than one sun in his life?" He flashed her a wicked little smirk, and leaned in to brush his lips against hers. "We set ourselves on fire, Vic. Could I...stay here, tonight?"

He paused, and pinched out his cigarette against his thumb and forefinger, tossing it out the window before he turned to her again. "And what about tomorrow?"

@Juni
MESSAGE     
^
0 User(s) are reading this topic (0 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:

OPTIONS C L O S E DTOPIC      POLL 


 


 

RPG-D NickPicHost Expecto Patronum  photo banner.gif War Is Brewing FIDELIUS

Wizarding Warfare Ilvermorny  Fidelius Relashio! Pumpkin Juice

INCREDIBLE SURFACE LIES

skin made by miss texas at caution, cc, & shine