MOVED TO PUREBLOODED

She exhibited her forgiveness by brushing the pads of her fingers over the nape of his neck and the dark hair that gathered there, moving past him. Bellatrix was inclined to tolerate significantly more from him than his sister, for she was confident in her son’s devotion to his family, and in understanding he’d never do anything to disobey or dishonor them. He was still young, though. He had things to learn although he’d grown into a fine, respectable young man in her absence. A slip up now and again was acceptable, until he’d reached his ultimate potential. He was part way there. As well, Bellatrix just liked him. She always had, ever since he was just a little boy. They’d bonded instantly, and wherever Bella would go, so would Corvus. The lack of decor of Corvus’ room didn’t surprise her, it wasn’t often men took too much care into that sort of thing. She took a glance around, before being lead to his wardrobe. “Mm.” Shifting through a few of the garments, she presented a black suede button-up with details of deep green on the collar. “The pop of green to compliment your eyes, my boy.” Her fingers rose without hesitation to begin unbuttoning him from the top, all the way down. “You’ll be striking,” Once undone, she pushed the material from his shoulders letting it fall to the floor then let her touch linger on his bare shoulders. “And magnificent. And you’ll make me proud, won’t you?” Her hands smoothed down from his shoulders over his arms, she nearly purred at the feeling of him, such strength he carried.

At his mother’s suggestion, he smiled. The green did compliment the little flecks in his otherwise brown eyes. He allowed her to undress him, fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, revealing his plain white undershirt. It was almost as though he was a child again – almost. There was something perhaps a bit more intimate in the act, his mother’s eyes and touch were less than innocent, he could see that. Or maybe he was simply seeing things.

“Of course,” he said. “I will bring honour to our family.” He leaned forward and left a chaste kiss on his mother’s forehead before he took the shirt from her and slid it on. It was his hands that did up the buttons of the shirt, glancing up at her.

for me to randomly generate a number between 1 and 100 to write a starter based on any of the prompts below!

A mix of fluff, angst, sadness, and anything to make you feel if executed right. proceed at your own risk! Some content might be triggering.

Send one for the following scenario. Add ‘reverse’ for our muse’s roles to be reversed where applicable.

[FREEDOM] - My muse is in recovery from being mind controlled/brainwashed for an extended period of time, and is currently living with your muse.

[HAUNTING] - My muse is a supernatural or mythical creature of some kind (feel free to specify) whose territory includes your muse’s home or town.

[CHAMPAGNE] - Our muses went to a party together, and have been flirting and making passes at one another all night. Now the party’s over, and they’ve made it home together, but there’s still unresolved tension between them.

[REAPPEARANCE] - Someone from my muse’s past has resurfaced - for better or worse - and they come to your muse for advice, shelter, or perhaps to celebrate. 

[REVEAL] - My muse confesses a secret to yours that they either never talk about, or haven’t told anyone about in a long time.

[TENSION] - Our muses have been arguing, and things have gotten… oddly heated. It’s difficult to tell whether they’re about to break into a fight, or start kissing.

[BETRAYAL] - Your muse discovers that mine has been lying to them about their intentions, actions or history all this time, and confronts them on it. 

[AGONY] - Your muse rescues mine from the hands of the enemy, and finds them in terrible shape. 

“No,” Bella shook her head. “You absolutely can’t see the Dark Lord in this state.” Bellatrix tugged her wrists back to her sides as soon as he released them, disapproval flashing in her eyes. He knew better than to restrain her, if only for a moment. “I trust you’ll remember never to do that again.” She said, rather casually. But the intent behind that comment was very much real, and next time there would be a consequence. “Why don’t you let me pick out something nice for you, hmm?” She suggested, softening back up after the fleeting moment of danger. She wrapped her arm around his back beneath his arm and leaned into him, leading him towards the staircase as her hand rubbed small circles on his stomach. “You can show me to your room. I haven’t seen it since I’ve been back, it’s been months.”

Corvus hadn’t even considered how triggering it would be for him to grab his mother’s wrist, reminding her of the way she had been shackled in Azkaban. He felt guilt wrap around his heart, eyes looking down as his mother scolded him. “Yes, mother.”

He nodded and allowed his mother to lead him back to his bedroom. Corvus had lived at Lestrange Manor ever since he became of age, leaving his sister behind with the Malfoy’s – as if he wanted to look after that soft little brat. He enjoyed it here, the solitude, the memories of his parents in the hallways. It made him believe there was a higher purpose for him, that one day they’d be reunited as they were.

Corvus’ room was rather plain, sparsely decorated, though the things he did have in their were of the highest quality and purposefully placed. There were no piles of clothing, nor dust lining furniture. He was well kept and orderly. He lead his mother to his wardrobe, each shirt hanging there in order. They were made of the finest materials and mainly consisted of suits and dress shirts, all coloured darkly – blacks, greys, browns, deep reds and blues, though there were the odd plain white shirt.

Was he ever beautiful, her boy. Not only was he a striking memory of his father in appearance, but within the short period the mother and son had been reunited, he’d done and said everything right by her. He was so unlike his sister, who seemed to do anything within her capabilities to disappoint and oppose her parents. Corvus was there to please. So far, he’d done a fantastic job. She couldn’t have thought of a better greeting out of prison than if the Dark Lord himself had come to free them. Bella’s eyes widened to full capacity. “The Dark Lord, is he there?” She asked, voice shaky as she pointed towards the mansion which was quite a walk from where they stood and mostly hidden by a thick blanket of fog surrounding the area. She swallowed hard, having had no idea what to expect on the outside. Bellatrix definitely didn’t expect to see the Dark Lord right away. But her heart skipped a beat at the thought. Merlin, what would he think of her in her new skin? “We must go, then.” Bella agreed, moving past him, walking significantly quicker up the walkway, expecting her son would keep up but not really caring either way, in that moment. “How do I look?” She asked, very hectic. Bella knew she didn’t want to hear the answer to that question, but Corvus would never speak ill of her.

“Yes,” he answered, “He is there, waiting to hear of the success of my mission.” There was a swell of pride in the words, so pleased that his plan went seamlessly. So quickly Corvus had risen through the ranks and proved his worth. Perhaps now he’d be worthy to earn his mark and his parents would be there to bear witness to it. It was the thing of dreams, something that he yearned for since he was a child; to be marked and fight alongside his parents.

“And of course, to be reunited with his most loyal servants,” he added, not wanting to completely disregard the reason for his mission. Of course, his mother would be more preoccupied with her vanity, but Corvus couldn’t blame her. The years had been unkind to her, the Dementors and prison stripping away the beauty that she once held. It was still there, in fragments, hidden behind malnutrition and loss of sense. He was sure if she simply ate and was taken care of that she’d thrive once more.

He wasn’t going to mention that, knowing how important it was to Bellatrix to look good in the eyes of the Dark Lord. “You look fine mother,” he said, somewhat dismissively. “I am sure the Dark Lord will be pleased to see you.” No matter what state you were in, he was going to add but he thought better of it.

Corvus knew from a young age the nature of his mother’s relationship to the Dark Lord, that it extended beyond mere master and servant. There was love there, an admiration and dedication that couldn’t compare to that dynamic. At first, he was concerned, thinking that it cheapened her love for his father, but it didn’t. He realised that his parents were united in their love for the Dark Lord and it was what made their marriage all the more stronger. Even as they suffered in Azkaban, they remained loyal.