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Indeed. But perhaps it's for the better for the filthy muggleborns are finally out of our sight. 

The silence of the castle has been…most unusual.

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So obediently she lay under him until her gasp sounded in the cold room. He answered her attempts to push him off by binding her wrists together; silk tie cruelly smothered her attempts at the wrist. Between them a union was forged, free from any religious bindings and drenched in blackened sins. She is the temptation he desires as lust seizes his throat, weakening his voice of logic. All that consumes his thoughts are her. Her and her vices. Her and her siren song and wicked smile and painful beauty. He would ensure no mortal lures her away into the blinding light. Her blonde hair was fanned across the pillow; a halo of gold. His angel- his to pluck from Heaven and drag to Hell.

The anger and envy burned ever present in his scorched veins and the look in her eyes only served to urge him on. The dagger trailed over the swell of her breasts, down and down until it crossed her hips. It was with menace he gripped her thighs, digging his nails into the soft flesh. Mine. The dagger was poised over her delicate skin, yearning for her blood. And so he pushed her legs apart and sank the dagger's sharpness into the flesh of her right inner thigh. The paleness of her skin stood out against the violently bold colour seeping from her wounds. Bleed for me, my obsession. Suffocating was his grip as he carved, his initials barbarically adorned her inner thigh. She is his to mark, his to command and his to break. His eyes- eyes without a flicker of mercy- flashed up to see her reaction. He dropped the bloodied dagger and pressed his fingers brutally against her open wounds. Scarlet streaked his fingers and his tongue darted out and tasted it. "How I adore you, my Ophelia. How well I chose. Scold me; deny me. Tell me what you desire and damn me forever. But I can never allow you to leave." He let his finger drop, his palm firmly resting on top of his initials. Reminding her. "You are bound to me, but swear. Swear that you are mine until the black death of the world and no empress will stand higher. " 

Torturous pain slithered up sharply through precious nerves as his calloused hand wrapped so roughly around her frail wrist. It was bruising, relentless, and threatening. The strength in which he was using to harm her did not bring the current pain that was coursing through her petite structure; instead, it was his dark, dark words that cut her so mercilessly. Poisonous and deadly, the honesty of his rage constricted around her beating heart firmly, and in an instant, she had the air knocked out of her delicate body. The phobia of his callous disinterest in her haunts her constantly, and in the dead of the night, it clawed at her until she can no longer feel anything but numbness. This never-ending aching dance built silence, panting the distance between them at even greater lengths, and the refusal of cave was suturing them both to depths the other could not reach – him in jealousy and her in childish heartbreak. In a quiet, demure voice, she allowed the question that plagued her nights and days to slip out of her pale lips. “Is that all I am to you? An obedient dog? Someone that does not deserve to be cherished enough to remain devoted to?”

The questions she had dared to utter out were met with only actions. Once more, he dominated her. And once more, she submitted. Soft mattress and his hard body trapped her in what seemed like purgatory, and she allowed him to bruise her lips and her skin as she lay like a delicate doll. Perhaps it was a custom in which she was so used to. Perhaps it was a hidden desire to seek approval and affection from him. Perhaps, just perhaps, she was truly powerless against his dangerous hold that had pinned her so persistently to him. He devoured her wholly with flames as heated as inferno, and she burned so willingly by his sinful hands. The ripping of her uniformed skirt was met with a slightly narrowing of eyes. Cold metal lingered above her frail skin to instill uncharacteristic distress, and it sounded out in the form of a gasp. Terror made her react violently – elegant fingers pressed against his chest in futile attempts to push the devil off of her. “Nicholas.” 

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Fuel to Fire – Agnes Obel

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Indeed how treacherous and fickle words can be. Their pale presence soon gather dust in the darkest of corners to be forgotten. 

Sisters you are in all but name and blood. She is blessed to have you by her side.

I do not believe in safe keeping if it is not a promise sworn on the honour of your name, mister Carrow. Words can be treacherous thus promises and vows for honesty are necessary when it comes to the secrets of the Rosier house.

Ophelia is a sister to me and the daughter who brings grace to the family in ways no one could imagine before she joined us. To have her with us in France is to complete the family thus no gratitude is needed. She is a Rosier in every sense but the name, I daresay.

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Greek Mythology Picspam - Hades & Persephone

I want to wipe out all the sad ideas that come to me when I am holding you We’ve got obsessions All you ever think about are sick ideas involving me, involving you Can’t let your cold heart be free You never told me what it was that made you strong and what it was that made you weak   (x)

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The reaction of his temptress raced through his veins like quicksilver. He who did not mean his last string of words only did so to revel in her heated anger. The cruel smirk that cut her lips poured into him like wine.

Perhaps he had led them into the abyss, buried in the rubble he had created. Perhaps her words cut his heart like the sharp nails that dug into his skin. Perhaps he had lost his senses as her next words formed on her vicious tongue, filling him with a rage that was unmatched. “You lie through your teeth, my darling.” Torturous images of her with another-with that vile halfblood- tainted his mind as she spoke, and he could only gaze into her orbs. Jealousy contorted his face into that of a devil’s and she would not escape this unscathed. In an instant his fingers curled around her wrists, wrenching her hand away from his face. The hold was unrelenting. Crushing. “Those other girls- they belong to me. And that should terrify you. It should cow you and keep you ever silent at my feet, like a beaten dog who knows what’s coming to her. Yet you scoff at me and whisper to me of the foulest thoughts.”

She was a desperate suffocation, and he would abandon the sweet kiss of air for her. He would not lose her. He could not lose her. And so he pushed her onto his bed, pressing her beneath him. His demanding lips sought hers, crushing into a kiss like dying. Mine, mine, mine. Pale fingers danced across her collarbone before wrapping themselves around her throat, a presence fueled by jealousy. Their game was destructive as a hurricane, as merciless as Hade’s will. Each tearing into each other, branding the other with agony. His bruising grip only travelled south, metal glinting as he cut the skirt from her slender waist. The small dagger ghosted over her inner thighs, an ever present threat. “I will forever have you in my hoard, Ophelia, my black, black mirror.”

[Disbelief turned heated and silent fury into cold indifference as she scoffed out. The pound of her heart, the million shattered pieces of her fragile heart, can be felt only to the blonde, and once more, he had thrown her out in the cold. He who she had given everything to spoke poisonous words that captured her relentlessly. He who stole her away from the light drowned her mercilessly. It was a constant thing – her shattering by his hands – and it was sickening how she fell into the dark abyss every single time.] My wandering eyes? My straying heart? [A cruel smirk painted her ruby lips.] No, Mister Carrow, once more, you have been mistaken. As I recall, it was not me who was found in bed with another countless times. As I recall, it was not I dirtying myself with any whore willing to spread her legs. [Harsh truth spoken with bitterness as it compelled her to approach him with narrowed eyes. His betrayals burnt her mind, and in the dead of the night, it haunts her until she can no longer breathe. He haunts her until she can no longer breathe. Shackled – she was shackled for all eternity. But she played a vicious game as her wrath blinded her senses. Instantly, sharp nails dug into the soft skin of his cheek, and her eyes captured his.] Does it anger you? [She would whisper to him] Does it fill you with jealousy and rage to think of another with me? To think of others – perhaps even that little halfblood – taking me over and over again?

Perhaps, my sweet devil, I am the one that is tired of you.

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A lifetime of consumption

they’ve all become the same.

I punish them for pleasure,

and pleasure some with pain.

(inspired by x)

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Your presence was missed, brother. I insist you come when the next chance presents itself. 

I do not blame your dear mother. After all, family comes above all. 

You know how much I would have enjoyed being there.

Alas, the impetus of my mother’s sentimentality kept me away; she wanted to spend the last summer of my youth as a family, I suppose.

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Rest assured your precious secret is safe with me, miss Rosier.

I do believe I owe you my gratitude for welcoming Ophelia during the summer. 

Oh, you make me blush.

I thought no one knew that I kept the rays of the sun in my hair, with a tricky little spell. Seems like you have unveiled the most sacred of secrets amongst the Rosier family, mr Carrow.

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How can I get this moment to last?

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Your wandering eyes and heart that yearns to stray. I tire of you, Lia.

Say it. Say the reason why it is my doing for your flight. 

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C R O S S E D  C O L L E C T I V E  H E A R T S [listen] + [download] ∟just take my hand and know that I will never leave your side. a mix for otp’s, both fictional and real.

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And is its fleetingness my doing? No, dearest, it is yours.

It is difficult to stay in your company when it is so fleeting and so very, very fickle. Do you agree?

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Mine among others. Do you disagree? 

And what would be considered better company? Yours? 

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You are just as well versed as I am, brother. Do not think otherwise. I have not yet sighted a suitable target for the both of us. Which delicate birds do you have in mind? I'm sure all of them can chirp and squawk as loud as the other. 

Such words of poetry, I must learn from you one day Nicholas, I’m not as well versed as you are, I’m afraid. But your’e right, though demons must remain in the shadows, deceptive as always. I will take note of that as long as you note your absence has left an impact on my shadows, it feels rather and strangely empty. Perhaps you will someday for some unknown reason, seen a target you’ve been enjoying lately? I can think of a couple little songbirds and sparrows. 

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They are hardly lies when witnesses stand forth. I expected you to be in better company than a halfblood's.

What you believe you heard, Nicholas, must be fabricated lies. Did you expect me to be mute when I am out of your sight?