#aefintyr

bloodshed     &     shattered     bones ,     teeth     where     there     were     no     teeth     before .       your     body     is     not     your     own .

                        (   soulless ,     evil ,     deserving     nothing     but     death !   )        

panting ,     pain ,     pain     that     has     to     be     felt     to     be     believed .        there     is     no     cure     ——     no     end     to     the     curse .        go     to     hell .        it     sounds     almost     lazy ,     so     pathetic     he     has     to     laugh .        i’ve     been     a     hundred     times .        what     he     once     called     a     curse     is     part     of     him     now .       even     hell     might     feel     like     home .        ‘   now ,     why     would     such     a     nasty     thing     come     out     of     such     a     pretty     mouth ?   ’        

her     words     are     spat     in     anger ,     in     frustration     ——     meant     to     maim     &     injure ,     he     must     assume ,     as     is     everything     she     does .       she     is     the     devil’s     snare     in     a     woman’s     body :     insidious ,     deadly .        but     some     nightmares     are     worse     than     others .        alecto     is     cast     in     shadow     as     he     looms     over     her ,     curls     his     fingers     under     her     chin .        his     thumb     grazes     over     her     bottom     lip ;     his     tone     is     almost     teasing ,     but     his     eyes ,     as     always ,     are     hungry .        ‘   what     would     your     mother     think ?   ’

META | the relationship between rod & bella.

one thing i feel like i don’t talk about enough on this blog is the actual relationship between rodolphus and bellatrix. not the perceived relationship , not the one crafted and solidified for them , not the one on paper. no , the real and raw relationship they share between the two of them when no one else is around , when no one else is watching. because it is one of the most important relationships not only to rodolphus but to rabastan and the death eaters as a whole.

first and foremost , they are as close to close friends as either of them can imagine , more so even than rodolphus and antonin although their relationships do not at all look alike and not just physically. bella and rod grew up together , and while he is substantially older , they learned from one another. they didn’t get along at first probably. they are at two opposite ends of a vast scale , and there was a lot of push and pull to start. he was order , and she was chaos. limits had to be tested. lines had to be drawn. and some things had to give.

of course , him being older and a lover of organization , this clashed with a reckless little girl’s idea of fun , but they grew to respect each other , or at the very least each other’s abilities. it was evident to everyone how formidable they could be together under the right circumstances , circumstances tom himself manufactured. and a union between the two of them would offer them both the freedom few others could say they had without upsetting tradition. bella wouldn’t have to bare children , and rodolphus wouldn’t have to worry for his home.

the marriage is of course more to the benefit of tom , but it benefits the two of them as well because at the time of the union , they had the same ambitions. they wanted the same things , and they were focused on the same goals. bella is still up in arms about it , but more so about the marriage itself and the fact that not even she , protege of voldemort , is able to evade the horrid tradition. but she and rod are still friends. and more importantly , they are partners and allies. they aren’t focused on raising a family , they’re focused on raising an army , and whatever may come of that , the foundation still holds. 

and in his canon verse , rod becomes comfortable in his role. he gets to do what he wants , bella gets to do what she wants , and they both reap the benefits of being in tom’s inner circle although those benefits differ between the two. and eventually they grow to love each other , which bella is still bitter about lmao , but it isn’t a love that looks like any other. they aren’t overly romantic and head over heels or anything , but they care for one another. they look out for one another. they worry about getting the both of them home. and they call the other out on their bullshit always. 

 a c c e p t i n g  ✓ ✓ ✓  let me squish our muses faces together

SMUT PROMPTS | accepting.

his tongue traces a tantalizing trail through the valley of her breasts , gaze trained on her face for the duration this orchestration. he thirsts for the display , the parting of lips and eyes squeezing shut and the writhing of spine beneath him , sounds emanating as though chords were being struck with each grind of her hips. he earns every single key. 

he parts her thighs with firm palms , his body winding down the bed like a serpent until the lower part of his face disappeared from her direct view. he hovers there awhile , hot breaths adorning the soft silk barring them from her slit. he licks his lips , failing to suppress the low rumble that barrels up his throat. predatory. 

he marvels at the sight of her , inhales deeper if only to see the differing results of the exhale , until at last he straightens up , on his knees , to remove her panties. he takes his time , staring down at her as though he isn’t as impatient as she , as though he isn’t every bit as eager for what comes next as she is. but he is TREMBLING , the aroma wafting up to him winding around his neck in an effort to tear him back down. he gives in the moment he’s able.

the taste of her trumps him. the moment his tongue parts her folds , the composure gives way to fervent feeding. he presses his tongue hard against her entrance , swirling around its edges before driving through her folds to encircle her clit. hands slip beneath her thighs , drawing them around his head as he envelops the bud in his lips. the sudden sharp of her nails against his scalp spur him on , chin pressing into her , the rugged scrape of his beard adding additional stimulation. 

and then his tongue is inside of her , like a hand in the cookie jar , invading every crevice of her in search of the sweet nectar he’d come for. he presses his face further between her thighs , and she guides him through it with desperate hands , his nose running repeatedly across her clit. she bucks against his mouth. he drinks deeply. 

@aefintyr regrets she ever tested me liked for a starter.

❛ dad can’t go with me everywhere , you know. ❜

his tone is dark , darker than he means it to be , but he can hardly help it above the hammering of his heart in his ears and tremble of his hands. he has to be strong. and this time , just this once , he has to be stronger than his mother. 

granted , frank is a bit more understanding , but that’s more to do with his disposition than any lack of concern for harry , his boy , who he has raised as though he were his own since he was a year old. blood has nothing to do with it. not right now , not for this. if james were here , harry believes he’d say the same. 

but that’s beside the point. and the point is that lily is worried , and harry understands. but that doesn’t negate the fact that what’s happened has happened. it had taken harry risking not only his life but the life of his friends , of his godparents , his mother and second father one’s already died for him ! in order to prove he was telling the truth about voldemort. he’s back he’s back he’s back. 

and there is no denying it anymore. 

No

no

no

no

no

no

no

NO

the idea of coming back to life after he’s died is singularly horrifying to albus, to the point where it turns his soul. even the idea of reincarnation horrifies him. he thinks that after death, he’ll see and be with his family ( something he’s wanted since their deaths ) and he’ll get some peace — being taken away from both of those things, or the possibility of such a thing happening, is not something he would ever risk. 

he     does     not     remember     exactly     when     the     mind     of     the     beast     became     his     own .       in     the     early     days ,     it     had     all     been     a     haze ,     a     blackout ,     &     each     morning     he’d     woken     in     terror     &     prayed     to     any     god     that     might     listen     that     when     he     looked     upon     his     own     skin ,     it     would     not     be     covered     in     blood .        his     prayers     are     different     now ,     to     different     gods ,     &     his     skin     has     not     been     clean     in     years .        that     skin     is     not     mine .        everything     is     so     much     clearer     now .        now ,     every     day     he     wants     to     dig     his     nails     into     his     own     chest     &     rip     off     the     skin     that’s     holding     him     in ,     rip     it     to     shreds ,     pull     apart     the     man     &     let     the     beast     run     free .        he     is     me .        he     has     always     been     me .       fenrir     the     boy     is     dead ;     fenrir     the     man     &     fenrir     the     wolf     are     one .       ( mighty     wolf ,     devourer     of     the     world ! )        each     full     moon     is     a     blessing .        once     a     month ,     it     is     like     coming     home .  

pointed     ears     prick     at     the     sound     of     her     voice ,     drifting     across     to     him     on     the     wind .        he     turns     his     snout ,     takes     a     sniff .        now     he     can     hear     the     blood     pounding     through     her     heart ,     smell     the     salt     on     her     skin .        black     lips     peel     back     from     rotting     fangs .        it’s     not     a     snarl :     this     is     what     it     looks     like     when   a     wolf     smiles .        run ,     little     girl .        i’ll     give     you     a     head     start .        he     throws     back     his     head     &     howls .        he     is     hungry .  

❛  i - i don’t know what i . . .  ❜  he’s still coming to , the trance fading into the back of his mind as he looks down his blood - soaked clothes. the knife swinging at his side still drips despite the apparation , and the only thing he can think about is the mess he’s making on her bathroom floor. not all of the blood is his , but enough of it is. he watches her wet a cloth as the pain climbs.