#bellblack

sitting at their house table with her pumpkin juice clasped in both hands, andromeda beams at first sight of bellatrix. she hasn’t reacted with such enthusiasm to her older sister’s sudden appearance since she was very young, smiling a toothless grin and reaching out to her for stability with little hands. “ bella! ” she calls to her, shuffling over to make room for her sister. she owed her this sort of welcome, their surprisingly earnest conversation being half of the reason andromeda’s disposition had been so sunny over the last few days. 

⌞ʾ⁎ 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕪, 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕪┆congratulations ARIA and welcome to musicalhqs ! we cannot wait to see what WEDNESDAY ADDAMS will bring to london. you have 48 HOURS to send in your account and read through our CHECKLIST. have fun, dear friend ! ISABELLA GOMEZ is now taken ! xoxo

oh poor, sweet bella, way in over her own head, but the dark lord likes his followers devoted to the point of utter insanity; so he will forgive minor transgressions —– the way she looks at him. dark eyes filled with longing; as if he would ever touch her the way she wanted / as if he would ever kiss her; love her. she would kill for him —– end the lives of innocents and guilty all the same / as well as her own if he so asked demanded.

Severus' dark eyes flicked to Bellatrix, suspicion etched into every sharp line of his sallow face. A promise from the older, slightly deranged Slytherin was as good as a hex between the shoulder blades. She had all of Sirius Black's disregard for the rules, but none of his naïveté. Somehow, he'd managed to attract her attention despite his careful propensity for keeping to the shadows and the sidelines, lest he incite more unprompted bullying than he could endure, and while she hadn't really tormented him as he'd expected her to by now, her unpredictable presence and undue attentions were unnerving to say the least. She was a storm bottled in human form - volatile and crackling with barely restrained chaos. And yet, for all his carefully guarded suspicion, there was something awfully intoxicating about her, like the pull of a blade before it bites, and just as dangerous to get too close.

He quickly berated himself for even thinking about her in those terms, and scoffed with the right amount of indignation, adjusting his grip on the small bundle of illicitly gathered potion ingredients tucked into his robes. "Forgive me if I don't stake my life on that." he muttered grimly, low voice edged with dry acridness. "The last time you promised to behave, I nearly got hexed bald."

aquamarine eyes, shot with veins of ruby, stared into the open flames; gaze as lively as polished stone ⸻ the half finished glass of wine in cold grasp seemingly forgotten. wherever riddle was with his deep thoughts, he was not in this room —– perhaps soaring through the night with the emerald mountain; feeling the violent winds caress sharp scaled snout as the she-dragon cavorts over pregant clouds not unlike a god. ❝ i have been unjust to you, bella. ❞ the dark lord speaks, voice no louder than a whisper, yet as demanding as a shout.

quiet footfalls carry him closer to the witch, he leans over her, imposing on her personal space, tall, threatening, lethal. but there is no touch. the hunger of flesh interests him none, she ought to consider herself blessed to be this close to her god. voldemort knows well what his touch would do to her, unabashed and unashamed, if she had been any less talented in the dark arts —– amusing to exploit.

❝ what do you know of the deathly hallows. tell me. ❞ as so very often, the journey was worth more than the destination —– and lord voldemort collects not unlike a magpie. first the cloak of invisibility; then the stone of ressurection ( only for completions' sake ) —– lastly the famed elder wand. and imagine his surprise when the wand, created by death itself, felt lacking, weak, in his hands. he ought to have known better, that not even the wand of legend could be equal to nagini's wand, his wand. but alas, lord voldemort had never been one to needlessly waste.

Wandering the stone walled corridors of the castle hours after curfew wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Tom Marvolo Riddle. There wasn’t a Professor or ghost haunting the many halls that he feared— rules a mere inconvenience that he thought himself above.. hence why he refused to follow the vast majority of them. Tom made his own rules and marched to the beat of his own drum; always had done and always would. And why wouldn’t he? He was a very gifted student. One of the greatest Hogwarts had ever birthed; a natural born leader, receiving top marks in every class attended. Even Dumbledore had awarded him such titles— which may have admittedly gone to his head just a tad. But while he was all of those things and more.. above all? Tom was a twisted soul, finding solace in only the pain and suffering of others. Muggles in particular.

Harbouring a deep hatred for their kind and believing that he was superior to them, Tom only associated himself with those of Pure-Blood status, looking down his nose at both Mudbloods and Half-Bloods alike— despite unfortunately being dubbed as the latter no thanks to his tart of a mother being unable to keep her legs shut for a muggle man. Pathetic. However, before Tom could become too heated over the past and his upbringing, his thoughts stilled as well as his legs when frantic whispering filled his ears.

Apparently he wasn’t the only night owl Hogwarts housed.

Canting his head to the side in curiosity, a few light footed steps were taken until he could peer around the corner.. only for his sights to set on a familiar mane of wild, bushy black curls that could only belong to one person; Bellatrix Black who seemed to have gotten herself into a right state, restlessly pacing the hallway back and forth. Hmph.

‘There’s something wrong with me.’ Oh how her last whisper had a mischievous smirk dancing across his lips, prompting him to finally make his presence known.

“Isn’t that the truth~? I’m surprised you’re only just realising it now to be honest.” Stepping out from the shadows until dim moonlight shining in through the window illuminated his sharp features, a brief once over was given. It wasn’t like he knew much about her other than her blood status and the fact that Bellatrix was the embodiment of crazy.. but to say she had piqued his interest would be an understatement. “You do know it’s past curfew, don’t you? I should really tell Dippet about this since I’m, you know.. Head Boy.” But where would be the fun in that~? Truthfully, Tom just wanted to see her squirm.

Upon closer inspection when another step was taken towards her, crimson coloured stains smearing each of her hands had his heart racing with.. anticipation? Excitement? Just exactly what had he walked in on here? “What have you done..?”

𝐓𝐈𝐏 𝐎𝐅 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 ⎯⎯⎯⎯ leaving messy ink stains on books held loosely in one fold of arm as eyes struggled to remain locked on the professor in front of them , it's a losing battle , especially as hairs stand up on the back of neck , a chill shooting down spine being in such close proximity of the woman . SHE WAS TERRIFYING , EVEN THAT DIDN'T COVER IT . petyon put effort into keeping as much space between her and the other as much as possible , yet despite how large hogwarts was ; it has never felt more claustrophobic . not everyone was like bellatrix , mean , hostile ; CRAZY . but there were enough MUDBLOOD HATING individuals that forced her to grow up a little too fast , develop a sixth sense that she otherwise didn't have ; developing a sturdy spine didn't happen over night , it required a lot of breaks , fractures ; a delicate , yet brutal procedure to shove metal between to gaps that left it aching , a weight left in wake that made it unbearable to walk . back of teeth grinding down as eyes flickered up to the circling woman , LAMB BEING FACED WITH THE GNASHING JAWS OF A DROOLING WOLF . peyton had long since learned not to trust a word of what most people say ; but with a self aware naivety , there's a slither of hope that their word would be kept .

a sallow ghost of a smile touches pale lips; an ugly truth hidden behind model facade ⸻ laid bare by the emerald mountain towering behind him, more him than he was at times. nagini is large, even just her head, the dark lord a mere babe next to the beast. ❝ to your death —– ? ❞ a gaunt land lifts to touch sharp scaled snout; the home to rows of trenchant fangs, that which devours beast and man alike in one fell swoop —– that which he now seeks to lovingly caress. ❝ bella —– i have utmost faith in your ability to live up to my high expectations. ❞ a god demands for naught but perfection; and gaunt took such pleasure in seeing his knights bend and break themselves to satisfy their lord's standards.

great maw opened, a thunderous growl leaving the she-dragon's hot throat. fangs the size of longsowrds glinting in the swiftly sinking sun. and her master's smile brightens still. ❝ my sweet nagini also has faith in you. ❞ not at all what the dragon had said. but the gargantuan beast returns to lazily rest her head onto the burnt grass next to him.