UNHINGED.

Chaos, leave me never, keep me wild and keep me free

[bitchtricks]

viiolentminds‌.

he grasps her hand a little too tightly out of habit but there is something unsettling gentle to be found in the touch. occasionally his gaze wanders back to her, the pair ominously lit by flickering lights and the dim moonlight. this was not off for them — rodolphus and bellatrix thrived in darkness and fear, thrilled by the idea of violence and despite opposing sides of the same coin they fit almost too well together. he stands remains close and could not help the gentle smile that tugged at his lips with a hint of mischief hidden. with her words rodolphus leans in, listening careful before leaving a faint kiss on her temple masking hushed whispers from strangers with the sweet gesture. “ of course i am, darling — it is just what we’ve been needing. ”

the street has not yet been washed with blood, instead - it’s moonlight that cuts across the ground, casting shadows across their faces. the pressure of his hand anchors her to reality, makes her see a little less red, makes her feel a little less unhinged. though that has never been a feeling that she has minded --- it’s a state of mind that she gravitates towards, that makes her feel a little more like herself. more alive. lips form a pout, but she doesn’t shy away from his touch. “what i need,” she whispers, and her fingers tighten around his, perhaps in a test to see who will break the other’s hand first, “is for us to win this war.” there’s a pause, and while she is silent, her eyes scan the streets, midnight gaze falling on a muggle born, who’s walking in silence. in peace. his body hits the ground without a word from her lips, without a flick of her wand. and as if nothing happened, she returns her attention to her husband, a more eager smile on her lips. her gaze is shades lighter than medusa’s, yet it carries the same promise of death, of blood turning to ice, to stone, to cold. “you don’t take me out enough, rod. when was our last date?”

[bitchtricks]

@viiolentminds

their hands are tightly intertwined, her fingers coiled around his, netted together into a silent promise. the streets are dark, and the street lights flicker ominously above them. perhaps warning others of their presence, of their turmoil. the chaos that will soon ensue, as soon as they loosen their grip to each other --- thus creating that perfect storm, effortlessly complimenting each other, becoming so much worse in each other’s presence. but for now, her wand hand is busy being his. she leans into him, their shoulders bumping into each other. something of a smile lingers on her lips, and her grip tightens around his hand. melting into him. if they weren’t such a sinister duo, one might even think they’re on a date. “aren’t you the least bit excited?“ she says, careful to keep her voice low, for his ears only. her hand squeezes his. “when we get the list, we kill the lot of them first. then we give it to the dark lord.” and that will be yet another fruitless attempt at making him proud, of pleasing him ---- when will she learn that nothing will ever make lord voldemort happy?

[bitchtricks]

@liammackenna

she watches the scene with the hardened gaze of a vulture carefully circling a corpse, ready to pounce. her skin is stained a dark plum, damson colored marks slowly making themselves known across her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose. lips are cracked too, spilling blood, scarlet trickling down her chin, down her neck. she doesn’t make an effort to stop its downfall. instead, she’s observing. making careful notes of what she sees ----- who she thinks might be hiding in the shadows. though she has already had an eventful night, has already shed her fair share of blood in her senseless desperation for the list. but if there’s one thing she has learned, it’s that her victims always have more blood to weep. so she studies the crowd closely, knowing full well that something is about to happen ( she can feel it in the very air, it’s practically sparkling, every breath is electrified ). lifeless eyes eventually zero in on a figure that seems vaguely familiar, and she apparates next to him, appearing out of thin air, her fingers closing around his wrist. her lips move uncomfortably close to his ear ( running a very real risk of dripping blood on his clothes ), and there’s a barely audible hiss. “ so you couldn’t stay away, then, could you? “ she whispers, and her teeth slam together, hiding behind a cat like snarl. tonight, her eyes have gained a quality that is beyond deranged - something far more wicked hiding in their depths. she’s on a mission for her master, so there is nothing she won’t do, a cruel desperation fueling her, making her see red. “ where’s little sissy? “ she pauses, her grip hardening, her teeth baring. they are stained crimson with her blood. “ is her name on the list? along with yours?” at that, she spits, saliva mixing with dirt and blood on the ground. “ should i flip a coin of who i shall kill first? now, wouldn’t that be nice. a fun little game for us to play. “

[trcshqueen]

─── erin van vuren.

[ellelxst-deactivated20210308]

Baywatch ( 2017 )

It’s so true, it shouldn’t be.

[archvillainofromance]

[archvillainofromance]

[bitchtricks]

@ofalvces 

she wipes her hand across her mouth, tasting blood. crimson stains her teeth and iron is harsh against cracked lips, making her look like something out of a dark fairytale. midnight eyes are deranged ( perhaps a prelude to what she will later become ), darting from side to side, watching her closely. sizing her up. a harsh breath is taken, and she staggers forward, her lungs feeling as if they are about to collapse underneath bruised ribs. recognizance flashes in her eyes as she realizes who stands before her ( an auror, an enemy ). dark hood drops, revealing tangled curls, entwined with equal parts blood and dirt. a chill runs up her neck like a knife as she drops to the floor, knees giving away under her, and it feels as if an iron fist presses her against the ground. knocks the air right out of her. making her much more lamb, than she is lion --- though, right now, she’s both. “help me ---- i couldn’t fend them off,” she whispers, her voice coming out hoarse, more like a cackle than a plead. she’s not good enough of an actress ( or maybe she just doesn’t care enough ), so she can’t quite hide the glint of insanity that sparkles so brightly in her eyes. instead, she goes for an easier approach, a card she has played before. victim. it makes her want to roll her eyes. “tell me, longbottom, why do people do such evil things?” long fingers dig into the gravel below, blood mixing with dirt as skin and ground meet. her bottom lip is trembling, a pained expression strikes her face, but she doesn’t feel it. she never does.

[bitchtricks]

@mxrlcne

she shuffles the papers around her desk without paying much attention to their contents. keeping half an eye on her partner, studying her closely. she has been doing that for weeks --- trying to put her finger on what’s different. what has changed. but she’s not going to let marlene know that. yet. so she shifts into one of her usual sour looks, that contrasts so heavily with the smug half smirk that so often lingers on cruel lips. heavily lidded eyes quickly change their focus from their papers to her partner, and they gain that sharp ( almost penetrating ) quality that she is infamous for. “ so why’d you do it? “ she asks, and her head tilts to the side on cue, a hand placing itself underneath her jaw. genuine interest hides behind pitch black irises, but her gaze remains dull, unwavering. refusing to reveal anything besides a seemingly depthless darkness, an emptiness that you could very well drown in. “ i assumed that you would have gotten bored of the flint boy sooner. never saw much potential in that one. “ she says, her voice chilly, lacking investment. seemingly not giving a single fuck. but right below indifferent words, there’s something else. something that has been brewing for a while now. suspicion. doubt. a loss of trust.

[bitchtricks]

edgrbnes‌.

he huffs a laugh. the beer pint landing heavily on the table as he pauses to think over the question. the atmosphere is merry, more casual than their normal settings. and edgar is painfully aware of every defenseless muggle  in the vicinity. half his mental energy spent calculating what he could possibly do if she’s set off. but ignoring the certain doom that is bellatrix lestrange in a muggle bar, his focus remains on her question. “easy. bella, care to kill someone for me?” he reaches over to clink his glass against hers in cheers. 

“ that’s it? i’m your plan? “ she questions in return, her own drink carefully being put down on the table. not slammed, not violently thrown, or dunked with excessive force --- the ways she normally gravitates towards. instead, glass is treated like a feather, with an almost eerie softness. meanwhile, the darkness in her eyes seem to become a bit restless, more unfocused. darting towards the bartender, sizing him up. he’s just a well worded whisper away from an imminent death, but neither of them know it. yet. “so who’s on your list?” because surely, everyone has a list. or at least someone like bella would think so.

[kari69a-deactivated20220420]

do not fix your dark circles let the world know youre tired of its shit and ready to kill a man

[bitchtricks]

seraselwyn.

“ your idea of control is a bit too chaotic for me, bella. “ she says with ease. the terrifying lestrange beast didn’t faze her, never had, and sera looked almost proudly at the corpses on the ground. they bled too much. it was rather annoying, but certainly pleasing to watch - damn her logistical side thinking about the bloodstains. “ i know you like it rough, but getting your throat cut is just a step too far, no ? “ a smile, with a small hint of softness, coloured her lips as the death eater nudged one of the dead men with her booth. 

she spins around, high heels clicking against the ground. her death eater cape flows with her in the wind, and if it didn’t stand for something so vile, it’d almost look aesthetically pleasing. a sharp smirk lands on her lips ( revealing lethal teeth beneath soft lips ), and she throws out her arms. “ it’s still control, “ she snaps back, and her smirk transcends into a full blown cheshire grin. just the fact that she’s drenched in blood, absolutely soaking in it, makes it look eerie, out of place. not appropriate. “ who’s to say i haven’t? ” she replies, her words falling from her lips slowly, a little teasing. also far from appropriate, considering the scene at their feet. “ by someone worthy, i mean. not someone like them. “

[lukearnold]

[bitchtricks]

@viiolentminds

[bitchtricks]

macdvnald.

@bitchtricks asked me  to use a line from my favorite TV show as a starter                           ( orphan black ) // meme

“there will come a day when you need us,” mary says, her tone sharp, eyes flashing. “don’t you see? you cannot live in a world without us. you’ll die out, without mudbloods and halfbloods and bloodtraitors.” she’s not holding back — her body is anger, and anger alone, and it’s people like bellatrix that are causing it, reawakening it over and over and over again. “you’re smart. you ought to be able to understand that.” and besides, they’re in a place where neither can draw their wand without there being serious consequences, the walls of the ministry limiting them to fighting with words only. “or are you claiming to be stupid?”

" and what would we need you for? we already have pets, “ she replies, a sour boredom seeping into her voice, tainting her words with a particularly nasty type of poison. she doesn’t feel restricted to the same set of rules that mary seems to play by --- because if there is anything that bellatrix knows, it’s that this place is run by them. their blood is running through the very core of the ministry, through every department, through every office. the other side may not know it, but the ministry’s heart and soul is just as dark as she is. if not more so. disinterest shifts in her gaze, hinting at the emptiness inside. there’s no fire today, no rage boiling right below the surface. but perhaps her patience, her coldness, is scarier, more dangerous? perhaps it’s because this is a conversation she has had before, one that has only ended in death, misery and estranged sisters. she knows how this story plays out. so there’s a calmness to her demeanor, a softness in her voice, an almost kindness in her smile. “ we’ll see who’s right, when judgement day comes. “

[tarmairons]

[archvillainofromance]

[lodgeveronicas-blog]

archvillainofromance:

The only way to survive is to do exactly what I tell you.

[bitchtricks]

@seraselwyn

" i had that, “ she says, and the words are spat from her mouth like a weapon. almost as sharp as the daggers sheathed in her sleeves, the knives in her boots. almost as sharp as her gaze, which is currently intensely focused on her friend, practically spitting fire. she swallows, and wipes her hands on her shirt, smearing it with blood. leaving hand prints, imprints of finger tips. “ you don’t have to save me. i have everything under control. “