Her lithe footsteps echoed upon the stone walls of the tower as she ascended the stairs, halting quickly at the sight of the man at the top. Eyes rolled at his words, but then Marlene had hardly expected anyone else to be here either. “My apologies, have I intruded upon some very important brooding? And here I thought my reservation of the space had been owled in for this date ages ago.”
His eyes narrowed as he watched the Gryffindor. The sass that would’ve usually roused hidden amusement only encouraged his s o u r mood. “—Oh fuck off.” He snarled at her, boiling with the oncoming storm. “You’re not doing yourself any favours by being here. Bite your tongue and move along now, little lion."
He hesitates for a moment, uncertain. Benjy hadn’t been expecting to find anyone up here at this time of day, had only come in search of a lost page of astronomy notes, and neither of the Carrows was likely to welcome the presence of a muggleborn. Yet the older boy seemed off, upset, and it made Benjy’s heart ache; it seemed wrong to just turn and leave, ignoring the distress because they disagreed. Uneasiness keeps him in the doorway, while concern tinges his tone. “Are you… Are you alright?”
Amycus balls the letter into his fist and shoves it inside his pocket away from Benjy’s gaze. And why did he care - this, this mudblood? His grandfather had painted them as less than animals, creatures who stole their magic. Yet this boy... He was not obligated and showed more care than his grandfather ever did. “I hardly think that really matters to you,” he says, halting his straying, bitter thoughts. “——Why are you really here?"
“I don’t think people come up here to find company,” he stated, not bothering to turn around to see who it was. He was too distracted to care, only heeding the crumpled letter ( from his mother ) clenched in his hands.
“Seriously, I’m fine.” The brunette insists, rubbing at her shoulder a bit. It felt like she was telling this lie so many times a day now that she may as well just have it on recording. She said it so often that she was almost even convinced of it herself at times. “I’m just tired and my shoulder is a bit sore from carrying my bag around all day, but really. I’m okay.”
"Saying that won’t convince yourself, you know.” A mere observation not made in spite or concern ( the conviction in her tone seemed far too practiced to his ears ). Otherwise he seemed indifferent in his cold detachment.
Favorite color: shades of blue, black, gold and dark reds
Favorite food(s): omg probably kimchi fries.
Favorite actors/actresses: oscar isaac. francois arnaud. natalie dormer. sebastian stan. maggie q. TOM HARDY. rami malek. jessica chastain.
Favorite singer/band: lana del rey. halsey. florence + the machine. until the ribbon breaks.
Favorite animal: dog.
Favorite music genre: I like a bit of everything from rap to opera (soundtracks are an all time fave), but rn I’m really into flamenco & jazz.
Favorite tv shows: oh boy. big list coming up. sense8. blindspot. peaky blinders. how to get away with murder. THE BORGIAS. mr robot. from dusk till dawn. kings. political animals. nikita. stalker. magnificent century: kosem. x company.
Favorite movies: the revenant. warrior. mad max: fury road. (the aesthetic of crimson peak tho!!). star wars: the force awakens.
Favorite quote/s: “She’s an Italian flag in occupied territory, and I fall for her like Paris. She mixes my metaphors like a martini and serves up my heart tartare. They all do. Every time. They have to. It’s that kind of story.”
― Catherynne M. Valente, The Bread We Eat in Dreams
Dog or Cat.
Netflix or YouTube.
Phone Call or Text? depends who it is - but mainly text.
Pancakes or Waffles.
Facebook or Twitter.
Cake or Pie? I love cheesecake but I love apple pie too ?? both i guess.
Big Party or Small Gathering.
Football or Soccer.
Work Hard or Play Hard? both.
Laundry or Dishes.
Bath or Shower.
Sneakers or Sandals.
Passenger or Driver.
Most important in a partner: Intelligent or Funny.
Coke or Pepsi.
Coffee or Tea? both! green tea is life.
Train or Plane. ( dividing my time between australia & china so ~ )
Honesty or Other’s Feelings.
TV or Book? Both
City or Countryside.
Winter or Summer.
Mac or PC.
Classical Art or Modern Art.
Camping or Binge Watching Shows at Home? Both ( currently doing the latter ).
Working Alone or Working in a Team.
Vampires, Witches, or Werewolves.
Western Zodiac: Libra
Chinese Zodiac: Ox
The Dark Triad [x]: Machiavellianism
Celtic Zodiac [x]: Ivy - The Survivor
Myers-Briggs [x]: ENFP
The Four Temperaments [x]: Sanguine
Rosenberg Self-Esteem Scale [x]: 17/30
Alignment [x]: True neutral
Enneagram [x]: The Investigator
Soul type [x]: Sage and Scholar
Type A or Type B: A
Hogwarts House [x]: Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff was a close second.
Sometimes it seemed as if they were always scattering white pebbles for each other, building stairways to a world where they could be just Amycus and Gladys; no last names, house loyalty & suffocating oaths to prevent two souls from flying side by side, breathing in the restless thunder of pointed trees and living off raw beauty instead of poison. Once they lost themselves in those heights, nothing could shade the riots of their hearts, the flint in their eyes, and this, she thought as he stepped closer, this was happiness, the rawest and purest shade of freedom she could find.
His voice was clear, a memory coming to life, and she savoured the sound like a charm, letting it dance through the silence and echo on her heart. “I don’t think you know how ruthless women can be about men,” a harmless tease spilled from her lips, hands reaching to loosen his tie on pure instinct. Always would reality build gilded cages for them, promising duties and wars for them to submit to, but those daggers of thoughts were easy to let go off in moments like these and she only wished to make the evening fall lighter on both of their souls, to give hope in soft murmurs and promising silence. Yet then a compliment was given and soft flush spread over usually guarded features, warmth adding up to the thrill of seeing him smile next to her. Usually such words were quicky dismissed with a joke, waved off as all conversation focused on her tended to be, but now it was him who said it and thus she appreciated it, soft chuckle escaping her chest in the rhythm of her heartbeat.
“Your gallantry is treasured, I assure you. However, you’re yet to dance with me; most of my divinity tends to fly away once I try to be graceful.” & even though autumn’s sharp air was already calling them to arms, moonight weaving soft paths they could walk through, she made no attempt of moving and instead leant her head against his shoulder, leaning on somebody just for a second. Summer had been uncommonly long, both cruel and generous in its bitter warmth, and he was missed on long days when all that surrounded her were her brother’s questioning and grandmother’s judging eyes, threads of days spent by his side wrapping around her hard enough to make separation hurt. “Where would you have us go?” It hardly matters, there in silent immortality of their shadows, yet she still whispers the words against soft fabric before raising her head, curve of her lips unyielding and bright.
He thought of Isabelle at Gladys’ words ( incapable of forgetting ) — but he too had been ruthless. Perhaps such was the nature of adoration & pursuit. And his tie loosened in her hands ( knot untied; the nooses around his neck incinerated by her touch ), lungs taking in air untainted by any expectations & loyalties. Untainted by reality itself. This — a safe haven, their shadows ink-black silhouettes, yet such lightness took over his heart, basking in this explosion of gold and petrol.
He had never known such serenity and ease ( you do not have to fight at every moment and curve of time, tired boy ), and in the flush of her cheeks and gentleness of her touch does he find peace. Many times before he had found this with her: in chilly afternoons, staying by undying fires to keep warm. In that hidden spot in the library, Amycus reading in Spanish while she ran a hand through his hair. In that place next to the lake where the wildflowers grow and the wind becomes gusty. In all these places and more — ( an inexplicable feeling ). Now his hand rubbed soothing circles on hers, his cheek pressing against her hair as she leant her head against him. “Yet you will be far more graceful than me — a three legged troll, according to the tutors Al and I had,” words woven in his humour, a joke beneath the celestial bodies that glinted above.
And it mattered not to him where they went. Moments spent apart had never felt so long before ( absence makes the heart grow fonder, is that what others say? ). The summer- days spent in the manor and others in the garden ( spotting wildflower ) only made this sweeter. And he lead her, step matching step, to that patch of grass lit by moonlight. Here - here -the world is gentle, the stars alive and everything is charged by blurs of silver. “Shall we?” A grin — offering his hand as the breeze pressed against his cheek.
“ Is that what you tell yourself to rest easier at night, hermano ? ” amused words shot back at him, sharp & fast, a dance learnt since they were born. each step he took, she would mirror with scorn OR praise ( entirely depending on mood ). & this particular evening the fire within scorched her veins. a wish for blood to be spilt present in her stare.
“ Adorable. ” sharp brow raised as her smile grows. words spoken having thrown wood on her fires. “ A protector to a frail waif, colour me surprised. ” words dripping of sarcasm. & there is no kindness in her saccharine smile, but an ancient evil which only he knew. for they had been forged into these restless demons by the same hand, and even if his heart had remained hers had not. she was a MONSTER where he had a shadow of possible redemption ––- & it scorned her. caused claws to be produced to tear at him, to mould him into a BEAST without a chance of reprieve. but not now. once again digits find his arms, trailing up and down as she speaks. “ –– Let us strike a deal, tell me where you disappeared off to earlier & I might spare her ( for now ). Do not think that I did not notice your lacking presence. Who had the honour of being graced with your full attention? ”
Children of serpents- knowing only how to bare their fangs and follow this twisted dance. There was that familiar fire in her eyes - the cruelness etched into the curve of her smile, him scorned by her sarcasm. And his dark gaze immediately turned from Greta to Alecto at her words ( he had not thought anyone would notice his escape- their escape ).
“A deal with you might as well be a deal with the DEVIL, hermana.” His grip on the glass tightened, such protectiveness & defensiveness reared within him beneath his sister’s touch. The time he spent with Gladys was theirs alone –– it was SACRILEGE for others to know ( even his own blood ). “I was outside, and that is all you need to know. Now turn your gaze from the little badger and sink your damnable claws elsewhere.” Hidden threat underscored his words, and he knew only she could hear a hint of that restless danger. “You keep your word now, Al.”
Wrenching her wrist out of his grasp, she slapped him. Hard. All of the rage she felt towards Rodolphus, all of the anger that she had refused to show him the last time they spoke, it was coming out now in a crimson wave, and she had absolutely no control over it. She was out for blood, and if that was Amycus’, so be it. He had participated just as much as Rodolphus.
“You left me there. Both of you,” she snarled, fury incarnate. “You stunned me and then left me. In the forest. Unconscious.” She wanted to say more, but cold, bitter resentment twisted into a lump in her throat, and she just pressed her lips together, arms crossing.
His head turned from the force of her slap - no doubt his face bore the imprint of her hand ( first scratches and how this.... ). And perhaps he deserved it ( as some would say ). “Yes. We did.” Firmly spoken, never denying those volatile acts. “And I highly doubt Rodolphus would’ve liked it if I carried you back.”
This fury seeping from her, like Medusa raging in her finest hour, all claws & vengeance. “But don’t act like you were a saint throughout the whole thing either, Bella. Rodolphus was harmed too.” And he looked at her crossed arms and displeased visage-- yet he felt not a hint of guilt; such was his unapologetic nature. “Are you done being angry over such a petty matter?
RAGE painted the colors of her eyes.
( calm down now sweet fury – put your talons away )
“it certainly wasn’t pitiful, amycus, to the many, many men after you.” listen to how mockingly her husked words rolled off her tongue — made to to provoke the hidden anger that brewed deep inside him.
& she wanted him to remind him of how he is marked ( doomed ) by the deadly siren for all eternity; her song will be his nightmare lullaby & her image carved into his eyelids. even though she was the one that fled that night, she wanted him to HURT – hurt because her heart cannot suffer the bittersweet memories alone.
“he does, doesn’t he?”
when he touched her, all she could feel is the fragments of their estranged love. broken little pieces that turned into resentment & hatred. neither of them wanting to give in. neither of them want to admit weakness. they both wanted WAR to hide the wreckage left behind by failed romance. now they are two soldiers standing on opposite sides of the battlefield, hitting each other with strategically planned moves. no white flag will be waved tonight. no peace given. they will fight until only one is left standing.
“perhaps i will go talk to him. dance all night with him.” isabelle replied, her head turned to purposely shorten the distance between their two faces. “maybe i’ll let him touch me like you did. take me to his room and slip off my dress like you would.” now, now she made her first move – velvety fingers danced across the canvas of his face as her voice sharpened – “maybe i’ll enjoy him more than i ever enjoyed you.”
“Then I wonder what caliber of men you have been entertaining yourself with.” He refuses to feel envy, smothering the rising green monster with vehemence. & he tells himself she doesn’t deserve such an emotion from him.
Mercy had long disappeared between the two, leaving behind anguish & such discord. But he - no matter how much he denies - is branded by her firestorm touch. Somewhere his ribcage bears the scores of her touch, heart missing the piece she had so wolfishly taken.
“Perhaps you would.” Harsh fingers pulled her close. Unbidden jealousy roused, refusing to be suffocated. “And you would be sorely disappointed. Do not mistake whoring yourself out for what I wanted.” We were more than that. Such venomous words, bearing the sole intent to HURT. He is ruthless in his ways ( attempt to decimate any lingering feelings brought by memories; nostalgia: cries muffled by hands and lips. wildfire kisses. her fingers in his hair. him murmuring unholy words in her ears ). Amycus gripped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “And who are you trying to convince with your pretty words? Because I know you well enough to know you would n e v e r waste your time with such imbeciles.”
“But by all means, if you’re searching for the slightest semblance of what we had in his arms, then be my guest. Hell, I’ll personally introduce you to him.” Though his eyes told a different story; fallen prince in his hour of envy aiming to draw first blood. This vicious, hateful game born from adoration & devotion. Would they ever stop, spurned by their living ghosts?
hollowed heart pounded slowly underneath cages — slowly, slowly, slowly even when surrounded by enthusiastic chatters & flirtatious laughters. ( slowly even under the influence of the amber bourbon she had stolen from a poor, poor soul ) but oh how the heat swam through her bloodstream ! & how it made everything seem so bright and vibrant and slightly magical.
hopeful people waltzed to the beat of their hearts.
( don’t they know that L O V E does not exist? )
beautiful fury watched & watched & scoffed until –
‘I S A’
– his voice threw her ice heart into a rapid motion.
& she hated how he still affects her so.
hated how she still feels the pain when he is near.
hated how he makes her remember e v e r y t h i n g
( even when all she wants is to forget his touch, his kiss, H I M )
“oh i love it when you say my name.”
“maybe the only heart i’m interested in tearing is yours.”
A single breath tangles in his chest as he steps forward towards her. Such teasing & underlying tension ( is this what they have become?), how she spoke as if nothing had affected her ( but after all, she was the one who left; stole away like a thief in the night ).
“Then you’ll need more than your sharp words & pitiful attempts”
And he speaks as if she had not ripped his heart from its caged, tossed it for the wolves to devour. For when she left, he had never known such despair ( & HATED the power she had over him. never again— he swore— would he let another have his heart. now he hides it deep in the cradle of his ribs ).
“—Perhaps you should set your sight on lesser victims. The boy over there,” he nods his head to their left, “He seems utterly e n r a p t u r e d,” he mocks close to her ear, fingers grazing over hip. Cruel in her beauty - he has tasted those siren songs & drowned in the depths. ( Beware, beware, beware ! )
Everything burns in shades of oranges and reds, lanterns illuminating faces and the light feels far too warm. He - with his glacial heart - lingers away from the maddening crowd. But how does one escape their demons? He turns and sees her, watches her. Remembers her; those unspoken words of devotion, breathless with laughter. Remembers the note and coldness of that damnable summer break ( a game, he thinks, all a game ).
“Tearing hearts apart tonight, Isa?” The nickname feels far too familiar on his tongue, laced with bitterness and such h a t e . “There are plenty for your picking.”
With lightning speed that she didn’t even realize she was capable of – in her both injured and intoxicated state – she was on her feet, hand at his throat. She hadn’t seen Amycus since the forest, and as Rodolphus was receiving the brunt of her indifference, the boy in front of her was about to receive all of her wrath.
Fingers tightening around the meat of his neck, pressing as hard as she could on his windpipe, she hissed, “Don’t you dare. We’re no longer friends, so you no longer have the right to speak to me that way.”
Serpent strikes –– fingers curling around his throat ( not an unfamiliar position to be in, how many times had his darling sister done so? ). Pain spreads from her cruel touch and he pulls her hand away, so very i n d i g n a n t.
“It was a game, Bella, nothing personal,” he replies in vexation, grip still around her wrist. To him, he had done what was necessary, guided by Rodolphus’ hold on the reins. “It is not me you should burn with your wrath, but Rodolphus.” Though he knew - perhaps - tonight he would carry that burden instead. “And if you were in my position that night, you would have done the same. Neither of us were made for meekness & submission.”
“ Hearts are B R E A K A B L E, haven’t you heard? ” she whispers in his ear as she accepts the glass offered. sipping on it’s contents a slight frown appearing when its proven to be nothing but spiked juice. a drink for the less refined, she decides yet she drinks it. “ Perhaps I should thank you for bearing the pain of such a fragile thing, for us both. Amycus, the valiant ––-so self-sacrificing. ” words spoken in slight mockery even if her eyes tell a different tale. another sip, and she offers it back to him. features softening for a moment, when their hands touch. “ Because that is what she calls you, doesn’t she? ” a nod towards a blonde belle on the other side of the room.
“And the shattered is M E N D A B L E, haven’t you heard?” He replies in mockery, taking the offered glass. His wildness flares from their touch, half sung minor chord that sings of clinging darkness & relentlessness. And he almost snorts at her words – such scorn, for he was not the valiant saint her mocking words painted him to be. “It matters not what she calls me.” Displeasure was blatant in his eyes as he followed her gaze, landing on Greta. “ ––And you stay far away from her, Alecto.” Warning sign flashes as he dares to d i g his claws in the flesh of her thoughts. And he drinks, suffocating the irritation he felt ( perhaps the alcohol would make the night more bearable ).
Evening pooled around Hogwarts like a warm blanket, gentle melodies and refined motions on the dance floor lulling tattered souls into new-found hope of beaming tomorrow, one desperately needed after a night of stumbling in the dark. Yet hope was for the faint-hearted and she wanted none of it, dazzling crowd soon becoming a noose around her heart that longed for open landscapes and relentless wind against her face. Even the dress, a lovely thing borrowed from naine, felt like ill-suited skin, silk nothing but another lie in the sea which she swam through looking for truth. Dances were declined with a polite smile and hazel eyes never left fragile children that wandered about, the need to be the watcher and protector only leaving her for few brief minutes when she locked hands with her angelic wanderess, basking in her smiles and wishing they were her own as they spinned across the room, ignorant of others.
Him, on the other hand, she saw without looking, his shadow ever-present in the corner of her eyes, and the image was beautiful yet broken; all those kings and queens of the kingdom he didn’t belong in circling around him like vultures without realising that he, like she did, belonged somewhere higher, where only light and freedom could touch him. Thus she moved, petrol-coloured waterfalls of her dress effortlessly sliding agaist the pristine floor as she made her way towards him, determined to be as subtle as possible and reaching for his hand only when eyes abandoned the corner where he stood, no words given before she soundlessly guided him out of the room. Moving through shadows without stopping, she could already taste the pure air outside, darkness and silence that welcomed the two of them time and time again, and thus the weight on her shoulders lifted, disappearing completely once they reached a corner where she couldn’t hear anything but a steady hum of his breathing.
“You’re welcome.” A whisper tainting the ethereal silence around them and she leans on the chill stone wall, shoulder blades melting at the touch of welcomed cold. His hand is still in hers, warm and solid as she feeds off his warmth, visage lit up with an uncharacteristic smile dancing on lips smudged with war paint; and she’ll always glow in the bright burn of him, no matter how often she was on the brink of disappearing, dissolving into nothingness. “I thought those poor ladies will start fighting for your hand at any given moment.”
This hall of ghosts & mortals, of darkened corners and hidden lightning. Amycus eyes the Jack-O-Latern with weariness and curiosity alike ( such a terrible focal point. what pitiful horrors lie in its mangled jaws? ). He - clad in black - blended in with the shadows perfectly, watching twirling figures from a corner; those flaring skirts and glittering jewels. It was almost suffocating, the pressing crowd when he stepped forward, the laughter & chatter that sounded far too grating and abrasive. Had he not been so used false niceties and practiced etiquette at pureblood galas, he would’ve strayed far from the hall.
Chained heart ( r e b e l l i n g heart ) yearns for the winds & open skies. And he rejects dances ( perhaps too harshly on some accounts, growing irritable in the instance ), stepping back from brushing skirts and gems gleaming at the throat. But he sees her, easily spotting her in the crowd –– and his SALVATION comes in the form of soft footsteps and rippling silk. Reprieve is offered when roaming gazes and prying eyes turns from their corner, and her hands reaches for his; his hand in hers, a move in the dark, wordless secret only reserved for two. And he follows her out, each step bringing them closer to that blessed place of solace & peace ( a space of their own making ).
The air smells of dazed roses and his gaze traces the gentle curve of her smile ( & how bright she shines, despite the dark only lit by a lantern or two ). Hands still clasped together, he stands before her, and the caged wildness in his eyes eases into something much more tame, turning into gold mutings & pale fires. “Hmm.” A hum of agreement ( thank you ) –– “But such entertainment they would’ve provided.” Though really they both knew he wouldn’t be anywhere else but here, in this quiet, h o l y darkness. And he steps closer, careful not to tread on delicate silk. “Is this when I’m supposed to compliment you?” Shadow of a smile appears on his lips, humour striding in his vowels. “––Well in that case, you look divine.” It came as a low murmur, almost swept away by the breeze, said not out of necessity but of want & honesty. That’s how it’s always been with her: truth, comfort and understanding. And he doesn’t know how to tell her about the silence she brings, how this beat up soul of his knows peace from her touch ( reckless boy, do you even know what this is ? ).
“ Why humour the already damned, brother dearest? & dance with someone simply for their enjoyment. Mhm. That is for common girls to do, ” she turns to him, a smile made for war at the ready upon ruby lips, as she brushes her fingers over his arm briefly. the noose she has around his neck always in the need of being tightened. “ ––- If you continue to compare me to such cretins perhaps it is YOUR heart I should rip out. ”
White silk & ruby red;; her touch ghosts over his arm, a viperess sinking her venomous hold into his veins. “MY heart?” His glacial gaze turns to face her, transcending into something wild after her touch ( fire ready to burn, violence ready to spill ). “Then you would condemn yourself as mine beats for the both of us, for your chest is h o l l o w, far too hostile to ever host a heart.” He reaches out, taking a glass from a passing tray. "And by all means, dance for your enjoyment. No point in sulking the night away." A sip of the drink and he grimaces, offering it to Alecto.
