So it’s been a while since I’ve typed a Bellatrix fic. This one’s based on my headcanon that Bellatrix hurts herself when she has no one else to torture. So self-harm warning; if Ты know Ты don’t like/can’t handle this stuff I don’t recommend Чтение this one.
Eight nights. Eight marks.
Slanted slightly.
Etched across pale skin.
They whispered to her, a deceptively crooning series of chatter.
Ongoing.
Endless.
They wouldn’t silence themselves no matter how much she demanded it of them. They wanted only one thing, and that thing was not in her power to give to them at that moment....
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