TRUE BELIEVER

Barty Crouch Junior. private/selective/ind. book based. merciless.

[uglyinnocence-a]

-- THIS BLOG IS NOW AN ARCHIVE!! find B over here!

[photosmevi-blog]

[uglyinnocence-a]

aimovoriia:

“Yeah, baby, they know. Well, Rod knows cause I said I was giving it to you. I imagine he told Bella.” He hadn’t exactly asked permission, but he had assumed he didn’t need it. They were all equals in their little triumvirate and he could decide this was what he wanted and know they would support it. He also knew they loved B just as much as he did, and this was the only thing that made sense.

“Appreciate..?” It confused him, though B’s gratitude was not in the least lost on him. “You earned it. I wouldn’t give it to you just for living here or just for being around. You’re part of the family. I keep telling you so.” His expression softened immeasurably, and he reached over to very carefully turn B’s hand over so he could see the ring settled against his knuckle. “See? Look at that. It’s perfect, like it was made for you.”

B wanted to cry.  His throat was tight and his vision blurred up and his cheeks, inevitably, were a strange, violent pink.  He bit his lip, pulled his mouth up into a smile, and he gazed down at his hand in Rabastan’s, at the way the ring caught the light.  It did fit in an oddly perfect fashion.  Was it that the ring was magically fixed to fit the finger it was placed on?  Or was it that there was something cosmically balanced, something that lined him up with the Lestrange family in a way that was tangible?

 “It’s a bit odd, isn’t it?  Having his name when I belong to you and Rod.”  He huffed a breath, hoped that he didn’t sound as wobbly as he inevitably sounded.  Smiled a little wider.

[tananais]

x x

[uglyinnocence-a]

kcvinsky:

“Softer even.” Kavinsky turned to match him, pushed a hand through Golden boy’s hair and revelled in the thickness of it. Liquid gold spilling between his fingers. He scratched his nails on the back of his neck on the way down, didn’t dig them into the flesh, but brushed them. Moved his head not to kiss, but to watch, to feed a different fire than usual. “I’d give you anything.” he said, feeling more like he was on his knees somewhere else than lying there next to Golden boy. He wasn’t sure if that was a confession or a proclaimation. “It’s not like I need all seventeen million of my hoodies that you’ve stolen.” He recovered, “I should turn you in for grand theft.” 

-- He’d give him anything.  B’s heart flared up, pulsed with pride, and he put a hand on Dealer boy’s side, ran his fingertips up and down his rib cage.  Dealer boy was so destructively handsome, so fucking picturesque -- he was a movie star, no denying it.  Something out of a film.  B flashed him a smile, a real, jagged smile, and he tugged on his lip with his teeth.  “It’s all your fault for having such soft hoodies.  It’s too tempting.  Wouldn’t your advice to me be always to give into temptation?”  He cocked a brow, shifted a little closer, so that he could press a kiss to Dealer boy’s wrist.  “Can’t be mad at me for that.”

[polyshipprompts]

soulmate au where everything your soulmate writes on their skin shows up on yours, too, persons a and b are having a conversation (for the first time, potentially) and person c is just sitting back and watching it happen

… until eventually, they pick up a pen and add in a comment of their own, startling both their soulmates

[uglyinnocence-a]

pcrpetua:

She wondered what he would do if he knew his father was among her lovers - not a frequent one, of course, but just enough to provide her with the assurance that, should Lucius ever be suspected of something (which she would see to it had no standing), it would simply be brushed aside in the eyes of the Wizengamot. She wondered if he did know and was looking only for confirmation. She, of course, was never so foolish as to meet with him in public for such nefarious reasons, but he could hardly be expected to know how well she covered her tracks. “I think you’re quite mistaken, darling. I’ve not been to visit the Ministry in months. Last I saw your father was at Christmas, I believe, at that sordid affair the Ministry throws for its most valued employees. Though why, I wonder, should it be of any great interest to you if I had stopped by to give him my regards? It is rather public information that our families are acquainted. Hardly the stuff of interesting gossip, two friends catching up.” Of course, she knew exactly what he was implying, but she wasn’t giving more ground than he was giving, and wouldn’t either. 

-- Well, that was quite a bit of unnecessary information, now wasn’t it?  Hardly the stuff of gossiping interest, two friends catching up, hm?  The best lies were short and simplified.  Complication, extraneous words, are hideous.  They murder impact.  If she’d ended that whole bit with a no, why do you ask? it might’ve worked.  Alright, then.  Narcissa Malfoy was definitely fucking his father.  There was a cool rush of something that made his skin crawl, his stomach churn, and B was struck with the idea that he might, say, hurl the lamp beside him squarely at her head.  But he didn’t.  His little smile didn’t slip.  He yawned, ran his hand down the back of his neck.  “Oh, it’s nothing big -- could’ve just sworn I saw you, and I was a little worried.  He’s been in a bit of a mood, lately.  Doing unannounced raids on Pureblood households, just to see if he can find anything vaguely incriminating.  I was kind of worried that he’d go after Lucius -- thought you might’ve been talking to him about that.”  And now, his father might just go after Lucius, because B might put the suggestion in his head.  Wouldn’t matter how many different contortionist positions Narcissa could bend herself into, if his father was pissed, which he was, someone was going to Azkaban.  Or maybe not.  B hadn’t decided.

[uglyinnocence-a]

kcvinsky:

Tugging Golden boy back to him, he kissed his way up his neck and let his teeth drag against the soft skin there before he murmured into his ear. “I’m gonna say me.” Wand raised, Kavinsky muttered Incendio, watched as the spell arced through the air, trails of fire-orange, and felt as if he had hurled his heart. Heat saturated his body, pouring over him wholly and totally, unescapable. K threw a fist into the air, clenched it above his head with a buzzing, uncontrollable excitement. He vibrated almost violently, feeling like he’d stuck a finger in an electrical socket. His eyes glittered, black nothingness mirroring the small inferno quickly devouring the house in no small measure. The fire was deliberate, purposeful, did nothing by accident or not in its entirety. Kavinsky admired that as laughed, loud and manic, before turning to Golden boy with flames in his eyes.

B rocked against him, threw his arms around him, watched the mansion go up like fireworks on holiday.  His heart thundered in his ears and all the adrenaline in his body turned quick, thinned his blood, made his entire body tingle and thrum.  His pulse rattled.  B tucked his head against Dealer boy’s shoulder, watched all pressed against him, reveled in the heat of it -- of the smolder, of Dealer boy’s breath on his cheek, of the summer night.  He gave him a tug.  “Babe,” he said, nuzzling his nose against Dealer boy’s jaw, “we oughta scram.  Find some place to watch from, you know?”  Then, with a little throaty chuckle -- “shame on me for not bringing marshmallows.”

[uglyinnocence-a]

drmthf:

Ronan’s eyes remained focused on the altar in St. Agnes, while Chainsaw rested on the pew next to him. She shifted and turned to look at the stranger interrupting their quiet time in the church. He came to St. Agnes outside of his regular Sunday outings when he felt lost and in need of guidance. Sometimes, he only came for the peace and quiet the church settled in his constantly engaged mind. The ley line had been surging lately, sending him nightmares and making him wake up with bloody sheets and scarred arms. The bandages on his wrists hid his latest encounter, but Ronan flinched as a twinge of pain ran up his entire arm to his elbow. Now, he was being interrupted from his peace. 

At first, he didn’t even turn to look at who had joined him, instead letting Chainsaw scope out their newcomer. She ruffled up her feathers a bit, but otherwise stayed quiet. Once the silence had gone into an uncomfortable level, Ronan turned to look back at the blonde boy that had joined him. Ronan recognized him, since Gansey was always swooning over his fencing skills, but Ronan couldn’t place a name to his face.“Maybe. What’s it to you, Blondie?” he asked, running his eyes over the guy’s face, trying to name him. 

Blondie.  B wasn’t at all opposed to Blondie being his moniker -- if Lynch was trying to be demeaning, he missed the mark.  Boys calling him sugary diminutives was always something B encouraged.  But he didn’t give him the toothy smile something like Blondie deserved.  Instead, he leaned back, kept his eyes easy up on the altar, half-shut, hazy under his lashes.  He slipped his tongue in his cheek.  

“I’ve seen you around, is all.”  He spoke casually, conversationally, the way he’d speak to butter up some senator’s wife at a gala party.  He knit his fingers together, set his hands in his lap.  “I’m in that tournament,  You’re hard to miss.”  Hopefully, it was something of a backhanded compliment, something that’d open up a further line, something B could work with.  Or, if he ignored it, he’d change tactics and mentally mark it down.  Damn, did he love meeting boys.  

[greatestbastard]

[uglyinnocence-a]

-- Changed my theme and such.  

[kcvinsky]

@uglyinnocence sent ❣ for an 8 song playlist for our muses II accepting !

i. obsession // sky ferreira ii. blink // kevin abstract iii. let’s kill tonight // panic! at the disco iv. off to the races // lana del rey v. do i wanna know // the arctic monkeys vi. coming down // halsey vii. robbers // the 1975 viii. colors stripped // halsey

[aristosacchaion]

you’re not casting me. this face is mine. it’s copyright to me. it’s not to be used for masturbation without my express permission.

[violentcherry]

[sircombo]

Visit Original Link

[kcvinsky]

@uglyinnocence​ sent 🔪  to put a knife to my muse’s neck 

A mere two inches away from Golden boy’s lips, Kavinsky didn’t blink at the cool of metal pressed against his neck. He breathed harshly, just to feel the light scrape against his skin, made him white hot, a sharp and racing pain in his stomach. There was nowhere for him to go, but against the knife and that somehow made it better. Nose to nose, he could feel Golden boy’s breath against him and he shuddered a little bit, every shiver and shake made hypersensitive by the knife. Kavinsky bit his lip, feral smile slicing across his mouth. “Do it,” he muttered, something dark burning away in his gut. Pushing outright against the knife, he gasped not in pain, but delight, eyes squeezing shut. His mind told him that it would take more for the knife to fully break through three layers of skin. Half an inch away. “Kiss me.”

[uglyinnocence-a]

-- Dealer boy made B electric.  His head pounded with it, veins pulsing, soaring, and every single stitch of his body sang out as he pressed the hard edge of his knife against his Dealer boy.  He stuck his tongue in his cheek.  This was, somehow, the next level of their choking games.  Leave it to Dealer boy to alchemize all his violence into power trips and sex.  He put his free hand on the wall beside Dealer boy’s head, leaned forward, and kissed him.  Kissed him deep, sweetly, without teeth cutting into his lip.  And then he pulled away.  Slide the knife a little higher, so that it danced just below his Adam’s Apple.  Sneered with all his teeth.  “You’re hotter like this, I think.”

[uglyinnocence-a]

kcvinsky:

One eyebrow arched, his mouth curled in half sneer half smile as he watched him. A rush of affection stifled any annoyance he felt, making a suffocating ache of adoration rise in his chest. Sometimes K felt so much for Golden boy it scared him, but in favor of the briefness of this moment, he embraced it. He pulled the current hoodie he was wearing by its neck, tugging it with little resistance off of himself. Slight cold making goosebumps rise on his skin, he grinned at Golden boy, shaking the hoodie infront of him, “Take the rest of my clothes off and I’ll give you this one.”

-- “If you insist.”  B rolled his shoulders, flashed his teeth, and took one of his Dealer boy’s legs -- one hand on his calf, the other on his shin -- and he slipped one of them lower, snagged the fabric of his sock in his nails and peeled it off.  He repeated with the other foot, tossed both socks on the floor, and crawled onto the bed.  Snaked close to his baby’s side, where he tossed an arm around his torso and pressed a kiss against the hollow of his jaw and his ear.  “Is this one going to be as soft as the last one?  Because it needs to be as soft as the last one.  At least as soft.”