▲ — DIEGO BARRUECO; ANTONIN DOLOHOV is a PUREBLOOD in their SEVENTH year, making them EIGHTEEN. for being a SLYTHERIN they’re pretty ASSERTIVE & DAUNTLESS, while also being MERCILESS & VINDICTIVE. ( cismale & he/him )
*law and order noise*

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@dolohvs
▲ — DIEGO BARRUECO; ANTONIN DOLOHOV is a PUREBLOOD in their SEVENTH year, making them EIGHTEEN. for being a SLYTHERIN they’re pretty ASSERTIVE & DAUNTLESS, while also being MERCILESS & VINDICTIVE. ( cismale & he/him )
*law and order noise*
A L E C T O.
✴︎ —“ People are particularly stupid today, I can’t talk to anymore of them. Unless you get me coffee and then I’ll like you. This rule does not apply to anyone else. ”
@dolohvs·
" my dearest carrow, ” he hails, unveiling brilliant canines, “ what have i done to deserve such an honor ? ” yet, the wolf amuses her with the ideals of fetch. an intricate saucer ascends from a rearward table, its exquisite cup trailing behind. its moonless liquid fails to slosh as it advances, his unverbal command adroitly subtle. his head inclines. “ cream ? sugar ? ”
Diego Barrueco x David Hinga
A L I C E.
“ —you know, one of the things i still find most peculiar about this castle is the moving stairs. why could they not just stay in one place, hm? i find magic is supposed to make things much similar, but in this case it made the action at large more difficult.” alice commented as she surveyed the stairs moving about the room. “ these stairs are quite tricky even for a seventh year, i feel like they are a bit hazardous especially to those who don’t know what they are getting themselves into. —you know, my mother always told me not to play around stairs. and here hogwarts is, supporting horseplay on stairs. i’m surprised no one has gotten hurt.” shaking her head, alice turned to the student next to her. “ wouldn’t you agree?” they might not have even been listening to her tiresome rant, but it wasn’t something she was going to acknowledge.
why the lioness tempted his molten gaze with her pontificated tongue resided within a segment of the dark arts he’d yet to digress. the shifting staircases had always proved their unhinged merit, and once ignited a potent agitation within his initial arrival. he, unlike the majority of his fellow conjurers, had only haunted hogwarts’ elongated corridors for three enduring years. at time, each displaced turn of steps still set him at a loss. however, this contending peer needn’t know that. “ i see your mother has failed to quell your voice, ” the russian admonished, his wolven gait of predatory position, “ i do not care if someone falls from these stairs. but i do wonder why you’ve chosen me for this conversation. ”
V E R D A N D I.
─ “listen… i know we, as a species, don’t really take centaurs s e r i o u s l y but i honestly think they are onto something with the whole ‘the stars are aligned’ nonsense. it’d be great to learn from one, don’t you think?”
her sanguine beaming would harbor acidic distaste upon any other’s plastered attributes. it was heritage, the russian volk decided, which sanctioned such charmed ease. and a rivaled house, perhaps, but pure of silver blood. his noxious serpents preferred to constrict the badger’s esophagus, but he armored one with a foxglove token, to which he wove into a delicate diadem. the stemmed circlet dwelled against the pad of his index, its byzantium petals sharply pigmented. he extended the offered creation: “perhaps with a crown they’ll listen to your queries.”
S Y B I L L.
sybill had woken up that morning feeling restless, and as she settled onto a long table in the great hall for breakfast she finally found something to do. “scuse me, i don’t mean to disturb you,” that wasn’t entirely true, sybill had been desperate for someone to disturb really. “but i couldn’t help noticing the pattern in your tea leaves.” as she spoke, sybill reached out towards the empty teacup, her eyes widening visibly as she looked at the leaves sitting in the last few dregs of liqud. “do you know what this means?” she asked them, her tone ominous.
the sliver of metal that was his cup’s utensil hovered above glossy lumber. he observed its levitation, eyes shadowed ink, figure frozen against his seat. it twirled amidst the atmosphere, its direction a leisurely sphere. until his concentration became fragmented. the sugar spoon cascaded, and his attention snapped to the raven-tressed intruder. a hand retrieved the item before it met the earth’s stone floor, and he stole a glance at the prophesied tea leaves, unbothered. "nothing that could dampen my days anymore than they already bloody are.” he mused, tenor a brooding drawl.
The Russian soul is a dark place
Fyodor Dostoevsky (via svyatoslavovna)
me: *wakes up*
me: SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SIN SI
▲ — DIEGO BARRUECO; ANTONIN DOLOHOV is a PUREBLOOD in their SEVENTH year, making them EIGHTEEN. for being a SLYTHERIN they’re pretty ASSERTIVE & DAUNTLESS, while also being MERCILESS & VINDICTIVE. ( cismale & he/him )
*law and order noise*