* — LIGHT / DARK.

     raziela lestrange isn’t anything less than you’d expect. a spitting image of her father, his hatred and his causal cruelty. N O T H I N G like her mother, her disdain for war and her aged distaste for violence. raziela quickly shoves away any thoughts of her poor, undoubtedly exhausted mother. it works because one glance towards her father and uncle makes up for everything. in her eyes there is a sickening joy; something you only see in H O R R O R movies, as the eleven-year-old cowers in fear below her wrath.

     a mudblood. nothing but filth and unfortunate circumstance, a pesky thing never meant to exist. not in this world, not in her world.

     the child sobs harshly yet no sound comes out as the teenager continues her shining reign of terror. hesitation is not in her bones, and her body and mind work together seamlessly without conscience. did raziela ever have a conscience? she doesn’t find it in herself to care as another terrified shriek clouds the nighttime air, because she understands a conscience isn’t of any use. and the predatory grin, full of sharp teeth, that tugs at her lips tells us the answer we already know.

     d e a t h. raziela isn’t a stranger to it, to the chaos and grieving it brings. she enjoys it; completely and utterly thriving in other peoples heartache.

     as she venomously sneers the unforgivable, she could swear she hears her uncle whisper to her father, quiet yet joyous. just as her own sinister and dark eyes flicker to identical pairs, “the look in her eyes reminds me of bellatrix.” rodolphus agrees fondly, a smile ghosts his features if only for a fleeting moment, before he switches back to a stern face. it’s enough for raziela. he knows this, of course. he’s been using it to his advantage since the father-daughter duo reunited, but still he’s proud to have such a excellent progeny.

     pride is an ugly thing, and in this case it’s the ugliest. she’s proud of herself, of the others for this; maggie especially, because raziela knows it was the younger’s first MURDER. a milestone in anyone’s life. she looks up at rodolphus and rabastan one more time, eagerly searching for rightfully earned approval and is overly satisfied when she finds it. her gaze finds orcus next, her cousin ( --- he’s more like her uncle at this point, because the age-gap doesn’t help. ); they share an understanding nod. one that certainly means “i won’t tell nadine about this.”

@intwilight x gilbert

The heat inside the greenhouse was a welcome reprieve from the cold weather outside, which Violet would take any opportunity to complain about. She regretted telling Gilbert to meet her there, if the goosebumps on her legs were any indication. She made her way to one of the unlocked doors that led to a room filled with various student projects and let herself in. Violet knew her father wouldn’t mind, well… not too much, and if he knew Gilbert was coming to meet her, it’d be a completely different story. The blonde scoped the area and found the smallest space of free desk. Violet brushed off the scattered dirt, Merlin knows she didn’t want soil all over her skirt, before hoisting herself onto it. Now that she was comfortable, legs swinging and surrounded by different perfumed plants, she didn’t see any harm in opening her package and taking a bite or two. As Vi was rummaging through her pockets to find her tin-foil wrapped goodies, she heard the door open. She glanced up to see Gilbert and a bright grin erupted at the sight of her best friend. “You’re just in time! I brought you some pancakes, specially made.”

     act cool for once in your life, bones, he thought to himself briefly as he made his way towards their selected greenhouse. it was a typical thing for violet and gilbert to arrange meetups in various locations around the castle, they’re best friends it was only natural, but every time the head boy couldn’t shake off the same feeling he’s been trying to push down since he’s realized it. he likes her. more than how a best friend should, he also knew, yet he couldn’t help it. it was almost painful at this point, and he was sure he wasn’t doing a good job hiding it ( or, at least, everyone else seemed to be so observant, and then there’s violet --- oh, violet, so blissfully unaware; something that made gilbert’s heart ache and race all the same. ) yet he’d take it, silently allowing his own feelings to be shoved away unbeknownst to her, because he didn’t want to risk anything. risk losing her all because he couldn’t control his heart or mind, because maybe he didn’t want to stop feeling what he felt for her but he just needed to accept the truth: she didn’t feel the same. not when she had so many others to pick from, he knew she was one of the most amazing, genuine people in the castle --- maybe even the world --- and that someone else would be just as dying to sweep her off her feet. no matter how much it hurt, he’d smile nonetheless, because he only wanted violet to be happy. she deserves it. deserves everything and more, if he was honest ( and he was, usually. )

     but suddenly, the striking chill of the cold removed him from his spiraling thoughts, thankfully. as he finally opened the door, he was instantly greeted by an angel incarnate herself. it was as if her voice alone, even seeing her sunny disposition despite the weather he knew she would love to complain about, made any troubles melt away. it was impossible for him not to grin just as brightly in return as he let the door close behind him.

     fuck, fuck fuck, he had it worse than he anticipated.

     when the words ‘pancakes’ and ‘specially made’ sank in, his gaze turned into a soft, appreciative one. his smile, still as shining, turned a bit goofy; as if he was momentarily mesmerized by her generosity of making breakfast specifically for him. again, a gesture such as this was not uncommon, though to gilbert? it meant absolutely everything. no matter how many times it was done. “y’know you didn’t have to,” he started like he usually did, slightly jolting out of his admiration-filled daze when the warmth hit his body in full. with the warmth of the greenhouse making its way, and the warmth he felt rising in his chest, he was sure that his cheeks --- maybe even the tips of his ears, ever so faintly --- were dusted in a light pink shade. he could blame it on the outside cold, certainly, but hopefully vi wouldn’t notice it. “but thank you. y’know how much i love your cooking.” he paused and walked further inside, closer to where she was sat. “don’t tell your mum, vi, but i think you’re beginning to rival her baking.” it was an easy jest, one that allowed a chuckle to fall from his lips, as he took the offered goods.

SHIP AES. ; GILBERT BONES & VIOLET LONGBOTTOM. / @violetslongbottom

“ cherry sunrises, bubblegum sunsets ...

Unable to sleep, Poppy found herself out of bed and trudging down the corridor to the kitchens entrance. It wasn’t unlike her to sneak out for a midnight snack, even in her earlier days at Hogwarts, thus making quick work of befriending the House Elves. Just as she leaned in to tickle the pear, the sound of approaching footsteps startled her out of her daze. Frozen in place, she glanced over her shoulder at the person walking her way, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. “UM– it’s not what it looks like! Or…Well, yeah, I guess that it is. You joining me on my quest to find food, or are you here to turn me in?”

“Shh!” Eleanor hisses for the third time at a group of students crowded around a table just behind hers, who just can’t seem to keep their voices down. “Honestly, the whole point of a library is to be able to work in silence! So zip it, otherwise I’m taking points from each of you.” Turning her attention back to her potions homework in front of her, she finally felt herself relaxing. If she inherited anything from her father, it was his ability to stress out. But just as she thought her threat did the trick, they went back to chatting boisterously. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Why are people so inconsiderate?” She groans, mostly to herself, though loud enough for anyone close enough to overhear.