Morcant & Alecto. - Blog Posts

WHO: morcant nott & alecto carrow @ofcarrowisms WHERE: st. mungo's hospital, blishwick wing WHEN: new wing at st. mungo's

━ If I had a galleon for mudblood in this room, I could buy you a new pub. ━ Morcant rolled his eyes, as he took a drag from the cigarette he got from Arden. A smoke break was a welcome relief from the constant smiling, which wasn't something he usually minded, but that was starting to put a strain on his facial muscles. ━ Disgusting. Which is rich, considering this shit bloody stinks, but certainly less than the mudbloods. Want one?

who: morcant and alecto @ofcarrowismswhere: delirium.

Alecto Carrow had a first-row chair for the savagery hidden in his heart. The rage, the fury, the blind thirst for destruction. She understood like few people, all the vicious heartache that came with having sharp edges. Except his came with no warning sign and a boyish charm—hers came with silky, flaming hair and blood red lipstick. — We want to invest in the bar. Parkinson and I. — He said, sipping his second glass of firewhiskey. It should burn, he thought, but it didn't. He wondered what that said about him. Maybe the same thing that explained why he couldn't call the man he was in love with by his first name. He couldn't, it would show in how entire face like the miseable, sappy bastard he turned into after Val had gotten married with Bry. — I'm fucking sick and tired of having to deal with angry mudbloods while I just want to have a drink in peace.