& I SAW BLACK HELL WITHIN MY HEART

pure blood, impure heart alecto carrow, twenty-seven, obliviator because some girls you remember and some you want to forget

[glassbonespaperskin]

[phereinnike]

“one day” my mother said “you’re going to bite your tongue and poison yourself” She meant ‘be nicer’ she meant ‘be softer’ she meant ‘be kind’ She meant ‘do no be like me, look at my mistakes, do not repeat them’ “you love so little” my father said “that you’ll wrap yourself around it and crush it” He meant ‘be open’ he meant ‘trust people’ he meant ‘let them breath’ He meant ‘you’re too picky, It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, I’m scared you’ll die alone’ My mother taught me life is a battlefield and now I don’t know how to live in peace My father taught me hundreds of different ways to break a man’s neck They tried to raise a lion and asked it to behave like a sheep. They tried to raise a lion and ended up with a snake. “you’re too high maintenance” a boy said against my lips “but I’d still fuck you” He meant ‘I don’t want to make an effort’ he meant ‘you make me doubt myself’ “you’re gonna ace it anyway” a friend said hurriedly “let me copy it” She meant ‘I don’t want to make an effort’ she meant ‘I’ll take from you what I can get’ “you’re the girl of my life” said a boy I’d known of two weeks “I think I’m in love with you” He meant ‘I don’t want to make an effort’ he meant ‘you’re a pretty thing in a pedestal’ So I spat and poisoned them. So I wrapped myself around them and crushed them So I made efforts for myself because they didn’t think I was worth one Sheep are eaten by lions and lions are caged by men. But a snake can’t be poisoned by it’s own venom so I think I’ll be ok.

Snakes are better at surviving // V.C.Amandi (via phereinnike)

[evanrsiers]

Female Death Eaters + Aesthetics

↳ We will be wild. We will be brutal. We will encircle you and conquer you. We will be more powerful than your boats and your swords and your blood lust. We will be inevitable.

[shestranged]

WHEN: june 16th, 1979 WHERE: outside the ministry of magic WITH: ??????

the smile on her lips quivers and fades as she exits the ministry and slowly becomes someone else. her hands reach for her hair, carelessly loosening her ponytail, letting curls of black fall down her shoulders and down her back, making her look far less collected ( a bit more wild and free ). a cigarette quickly appears between her finger tips, and it lights up as she snaps her fingers, fire effortlessly igniting. the warm june air mixed with the familiar scent of smoke SHOULD calm her down, but it doesn’t. her heart is beating fast underneath her ribs ( she can feel it, practically threatening to break free ), and her fingers are itching with anger and frustration. the thumping in her ears ( her blood boiling, her heart exploding ) only grows louder as she grows painfully aware of someone else’s presence. eyes as cold as ice stare into the distance, refusing to look at them, and she blows a puff of smoke into the air. “ what? “ she spits. fucking what? what fucking now? bellatrix lestrange doesn’t have the patience, or the time. frankly, if they knew what she was dealing with, surely, they wouldn’t dare stand so close. though, that could also be true if they knew who they were dealing with. “ if you’re hoping for a smoke, now is not the time. “ she doesn’t bother to lace her words with that sickly sweetness that has been drilled into her since birth, instead, words are spat poison, like fire, like rage. 

[allcarrow]

Alecto has seen some of the hurricane phenomena that is Bellatrix. She quietly watched her gather all her bones together into crafting a human skeleton to play as at work, pretending to be human, and she stole glances of her hexes. Even with a mask, she’s obvious to spot: the first, the quickest, the most violent among men. Alecto was mostly silent around Bellatrix, because if her tongue wasn’t itching from having to say something sharp, she didn’t open her mouth. She listened, she watched, she made mental notes. She didn’t want to learn how to be more like her, though some of the cocktail of feelings in her chest had to be awe — she was curious about how somebody on fire all the time didn’t burn out. 

The other extreme, Alecto, empty, collected, easily bored and bleak, feared even the dimmest candle flame. Once upon a time, at twenty-two, she feels like she could have fit in one of Bella’s cloaks: nearly a Lestrange if only she’d said yes to Rabastan, with more color in her cheeks and, apparently, a little more alive. Nowadays, she was convinced that beneath her skin, there was something rotting there. Suddenly feigning offence at Bellatrix’s words, Alecto looked down at the cigarette rolling between her fingers and held her wand up to light it with the tip of it after strategically placing it between her teeth. She inhaled deeply and didn’t leave out anything but the shiest cloud of smoke, even against the other Death Eater’s warning. “I can circle the building and smoke in a corner,“ she offered mockingly in a little voice. Sarcasm, howsoever, was invisible in her tone, perhaps because she was halfway meaning it honestly. Bellatrix seemed upset, and despite the fact that it wasn’t a new mood for her, Alecto knew better than to present a challenge, less out of fear and more out of respect. 

[tierdropp]

[lifeinpoetry]

i wonder how small of a love i can survive on my stomach turns in on itself i do not hunger anymore

Kiki Nicole, from blk/still/life (via lifeinpoetry)

[camilaamendess]

[allcarrow]

lxrcans‌:

Lorcan wasn’t exactly a morning person and the cup of coffee in front of him wasn’t helping nearly as much as he would have liked. He had joined Alecto at the table she was sitting at a few minutes ago, partly because she had been sitting in the very back and partly because he wanted to avoid talking to anyone he didn’t know this early. She had given no indication of acknowledging his presence apart from a glance when he had first sat down and though usually he wouldn’t have liked having her attention so divided, he wasn’t yet fully awake to care about it all that much. It was why he was slightly surprised when she spoke. “Huh-” he said involuntarily as he pulled out a flask from his leather jacket, discreetly pouring some in his cup. Her words registered then and he shrugged indifferently. “Better safe than sorry or whatever,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand because those were words he had never cared for. Lorcan laughed as a thought occurred to him, “Though I guess it also gives Death Eaters ideas about where not to strike.” 

She didn’t even as much as like Lorcan in public. His vortex of a fame terrified her, while not much else managed to even phase her. The spotlight killing her shadow was something she usually summoned as prime argument against his company  — mostly in discussions with her own mind. This time, she chose to weakly tolerate it, sitting in perfect silence and unfolding her routine until something cracked in her reading. She gazed at a disinterested Lorcan for validation in her point. Her lips pursed together into a thin line as she folded the newspaper. “Chances are they’ll be sorry either way,“ her words ran indifferently, not even as a foreshadowed promise. She just knew the Death Eaters and she knew the sort of messages they liked to send, blood on newspapers rather than an actual article. “They don’t strike where the Prophet wants or doesn’t want them to. This could easily be Ministry manipulation if they read and followed, one way or another, these articles. I don’t know what it gives them, but I don’t like how every middle-class sheep listens blindly. I’m sure some moron is evacuating Leicester as we speak. Why are people so stupid?“ she pouted, knowing it for a fact in these moments that nobody should weep on certain graves. So what if they are at war? If it weren’t natural, it wouldn’t be called natural selection. “But you seem distracted. Did I interrupt the praying in your mind that the radio would finally put on Necks on you?“ Whether Alecto purposefully worded the wrong song title, mistaking ‘to’ for ‘on’, it was deeply subconscious. She never liked Lorcan’s music, denying vigorously the times it sounded alright, hummed right out of his throat live after there would be nothing left on the table to poison themselves with.

[allcarrow]

bartcmiusjr‌:

The pencil in his hand ran over the page, a picture coming to life as the minutes passed. Barty could so easily become caught up in what he was drawing, today being one of those days. He’d shut out the rest of the world around him, only to be brought back by a few simple words–Death Eaters. Mostly, from the randomness of the topic of conversation, realizing a moment into the woman that she was in fact only reading from the paper. He too had read it earlier in the day, leaving it behind to forget about the assumptions they must have received from rumors. “Yet somehow we all take the time to read it over.” Barty had been a culprit in such a thing himself, wondering if it had to do with needing to know or the amusement of what he might end up reading next. “They seem to be grasping for anything they can get a hold of. True or not.”

“It’s foolish to ignore the only remaining line of connection between wizards,“ she clicked her tongue in response, agreeing with the cynicism dedicated to the Prophet and their affiliates, but without the slightest intention of giving up her small habit. Perhaps it was a thing of routine to some extent as well. “The only thing more idiotic than reading this nonsense is ignoring it, in fact.“ Alecto weighed the page of paper with squinted eyes, trying to find the balance between mock indulgence and plain spite for the article and the publication as a whole. “Right now, they’re taking a guess, writing the most possible about as many things they suspect in hopes that at least some of it will come true.“ She carefully placed down the black and white lies and pinpointed it with her elbows against the table. “If I had a newspaper, I’d use it for true, exact information, like a prediction, except in the wrong order and at the wrong time. This, not bluffs, would finally scare the million wizards who don’t yet feel phased at all.“

[allcarrow]

OPEN STARTER LOCATION: The Three Broomsticks DATE: July 8th, 1979

Page after page, ridiculousness increased. Alecto took time from her every morning to get her two consecutive cups of coffee and a look at the latest lies the press mumbled onto cheap pages. It never once failed to annoy her, as they’d blow out of proportions in a bad light the slightest detail of her last night, but it was important to read and be informed. Still, one line too bad and she couldn’t bite her tongue and hold it in anymore, with an explosive sigh. Voice not particularly raised, but plenty disgusted, she turned to the first person to her right to quote the publication, intrigued though the taste in her mouth was bitter. "Beastly group, known as the Death Eaters, are assumed to strike Leicester in the following nights. Stay saf-" A cutting short chuckle served as final punctuation. With an eye roll, she glanced at her involuntary interlocutor.  "The world is burning because people don’t know how to write. And because they try to guess."

[apoemforyourdash]

I’m all skin and bone and song-seized, wine-wild and each year more abandoned

Po Chu-i, translated by David Hinton, from “Forty-Five”

行年四十五，雨鬓半苍苍。 清瘦诗成癖，粗豪酒放狂。 老来尤委命，安处即为乡。 或拟庐山下，来春结草堂。

(via apoemforyourdash)

[wordsnquotes]

Who speaks of love? I am cold and I want to be December.

Luis García Montero

original:“Quién habla del amor? Yo tengo frío y quiero ser diciembre.”

(via wnq-writers)