#daughterofyourdarklord

[motherfuckingmaneater]

“Did you know he killed his father?”

The him was obvious, the question less so. 

It felt almost blasphemous to even say. Delphini had made certain they were alone, somewhere far away from the manor just the two of them. 

She’d always had a very unclear history of her father’s side of the family. She knew, of course, that he was a Gaunt, the heir of Slytherin, the reason that she can so easily speak to snakes. She knew he was a Gaunt through his mother, that he was the last of them until Delphini was born. 

It wasn’t until recently that he told her what he did to his father. 

Delphini’s not sure why he chose now to review those details, a part of her thinks he did it to scare her. That thought is far too blasphemous to ever speak into existence.

“Did you?”

A half-blood's bastard child.

Druella's words ring in her ears for a few moments.

Dark eyes turn from the magic in the crystal clear pools turning the water cerulean and violet, to her daughter.

At first she gives little away, gaze searching Delphini's face to understand what it is she feels about this - what it is exactly thats made her ask. Is she upset? Perhaps. Maybe she's curious too. Its in her nature. Confidence and curiosity.

"He told me much later in life than he told you."

Half a truth. She figured it out. He'd contemplated killing her for it. She still remembers how his hand felt around her throat. Trust had to be earned for the Black heiress. Her daughter has His tainted blood, she is perhaps easier to trust simply because loyalty is ingrained into her. Or perhaps because he wanted to terrify her. She doubts it worked.

"Not many are willing to go to any lengths necessary to achieve what they want. But your father always has."

She tips her head a little, dipping the tips of her fingers into the pools around her ankles, watching magic swirl beneath her touch.

"What does it matter?"

[motherfuckingmaneater]

Watching Delphini is joy, the spitting image of every Black before her but her dangerousness and that glint in her eye is all her father. Begging always makes Bellatrix's blood burn, a vicious desire to destroy creeps down her spine. Grey eyes make them recoil in fear, their gazes averting, their limbs trembling in sheer terror. They know her reputation well. They have now witnessed first hand what it is to be on the other end of her wand.

Death would be a mercy. It's a mercy that will only come to two of the three. In truth, she's not sure she wants to grant the others a mercy at all. The scent of blood makes every instinct in the dark witch scream to spill more in the most agonising way possible.

She's focussed suddenly on the witch who spits. It makes Bellatrix laugh. She likes the ones with fight the most. They both do. She stands before the brave little creature who thinks she can hide her fear and watches the faintest flicker of it flash behind blue eyes as green consumes the others in little more than a twist of Bellatrix's wand.

Their bodies collapse to either side and Bellatrix smiles, "she'll do."

A flick of her fingers sends the witch into the air, bound invisibly. She begins the walk and the incapacitated witch is forced along, the girl's slurs muffled as she struggles to no avail against the binds.

"A fine choice I think, darling." she comments without attempting any surreptitiousness, gazing up at the sky for a moment, "by the time the moon sets we'll have spilt every drop of this little creature's blood. About the most useful she's been all her life, I wager?'"

Mum's ability to cast such a powerful bone breaker curse with just the clenching of her fist will never cease to amaze Delphini. She still has so much to learn from each of her parents, at this rate she's not sure if she'll ever catch up.

They're both covered in blood, the pair of them, painted red.

"Oh, just learning from the best." Delphini answers with a smile, watching as her mother summons all three of the remaining mud bloods before them. Did they really think that they could get away? How cute.

"Just one?" She jokes, watching the fear flicker in their eyes as she assess them. "Well, I'm thrilled to do the honors, mummy."

Delphini practically skips around them, humming in excitement as she eyes each of her options. She was so hoping to recognize one of them, wouldn't it be grand if one was a former classmate of hers? That Granger girl is still out there, Delphini is fairly certain. She stops abruptly, leaning in closer to expect the wizard on the end. She grins at him, laughing as his pisses himself in fear.

"P-please." He begs. She rolls her eyes, brushing right past him to the witch in the center. She tries to spit on Delphini, the attempt is laughable. Delphi grabs her jaw, running a thumb along her cheek, leaving a stain of blood in its wake.

"Oh - it absolutely has to be this one. Don't you think?"

[crucioslut]

✨ - Playfully shove my muse’s shoulder

Bellatrix, who was rather severely under the influence of far too much vodka hadn't expected the shoved. The sudden action was enough to make her stumble over her feet and slump against a near by tree. Mother and daughter were on their way home from having a few drinks at a little pub on Knockturn Alley, one that was regonized as a favourite of the Blacks who frequented the establishment. Delphini was not yet old enough to drink legally but it didn't stop her from keeping up with Bellatrix, even holding her alcohol with grace as they moved through the cool night. Just when Bellatrix thought her dove couldn't make her anymore proud.. "Rotten wench!" Bella laughed as she recovered, charging in the direction of the young witch in a matter of seconds, tackling her straight to the cold hard stone with all of her body weight just as soon as she was close enough to do so. Once she had her, Bella sat up, holding her daughter down with her legs and arms. "It isn't nice to push around your mum, Delphini. Hardly fair. What have I always told you about respecting your elders?" In an instant the tip of Bella's wand was at Delphi's throat, her eyes narrowing whilst she looked down at the spitting image of herself and her most beloved Dark Lord starring back at her. "And what do we do when someone's trapped us like this? Where's your wand? How will you retreive it from this position?" Bella's legs tightened around her, with her free arm she held her down harder. "Show me."

Lately everything somehow ended up being a test. Delphini's skills weren't of question, she was just as advanced as Bella herself had been at her age. But Bellatrix had to ensure that her defenses were up to par as well. Certainly before she'd ever accompany her on missions as a respected partner there to complete a job, not just a piece of funiture she'd had hanging off her arm.

@daughterofyourdarklord

[tmvoldemort]

🕯️

send me 🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character.

@daughterofyourdarklord

"Leave me, now.” 

Which concluded his conversation with the child. No longer a child. Delphini had matured to a reasonable age. Mindful in her actions and competent with a wand. Those were the only sort he bothered with. Useful members to sociality and to his own ends.

Voldemort looks down at the top of her bow head. 

“I shall call upon you when it is time.” 

How much she looks like her. 

The Dark Lord turns his gaze. Fixed upon a random spot in the distance. As she linger, her lips silently whisper back their conversation. Making up her own checklist.

‘Tis a good thing too. Being born a girl-child and looking like his favorite. He doubted he had patience for the opposite. How dreadful to be stared at by the past. Or worse by his father.

Still she had much more of himself in her. It was disturbing to see. Catching glimpses of it as he spied on her movements. Not just the obvious on leading a band of his generals. Nor her growing personal signature with magic. There were more secretive sorts of gestures. Mimics of his own. Ones he had long since unlearned. Or learn to mask. 

Delphi made him confront some ugly truths. 

Did he make such faces when frustrated or feeling singled out? For that was not Bellatrix mannerisms. Was that old Tom who looked for reassures? Or that dark turn of an eye. The change of mood when wrong. That one he was sure was him.

Not all were so frightful.

There was something comforting about having another in the know. A familiarity to the same strengths and woes. One who shared a tongue. But also who knew what it was like to grow up alone. That had the same pitiful start in the world.

Was it always their lot to suffer such? Or had she been made to suffer for his sins?

Selfish as it was, he preferred it. Least now Voldemort didn’t feel so alien. There were two in this world singled out. Both grown up lost and unwanted. Only now the world whispers about this cursed child. 

A fate she could easily blame him for. Yet she doesn’t. Just like he hadn’t blamed his own father, at first, only a burning desire to seek him out. Tearing apart the world to look for him. Only Delphi had liked who she found. Leaving him on unsure footing. 

He was not fit to be a father. A monster, yes. The head of the wizardry world. It seems easier to consider her just Bellatrix’s child. Or Bella the second. His new favorite, his Augurey, rather than his child.

With a pop Delphi had disappeared from sight.

Poor cursed child, he thinks. Once you're an orphan you never truly stop being one. Even with a father who wants you.

[star-named-riddle]

Call for prompts

Alright Bellamort fans, I feel like repeating the 30 microfics challenge I did last year. You can see the results here or try and use tumblrs search function to find them in my blog (do not recommend, I can't find them all myself)

To do this, instead of asking another blog to use their monthly prompts, like I did last year, I'm asking you for prompts.

My asks are open, feel free to send more than one. Names and locations are off the table, I'm looking for word prompts (look into wolfstarmicrofics page and check their lists, that's the sort of thing that works for microfics).

I'll be posting these through September (as I headcanon Bella's birthday to be in September). If I get enough prompts for two months, there will be thirty more microfics published in December since that's Voldemort's birth month).

Let's go

PS shamelessly summoning my Bellamort mutuals @sofoulandfairaday @justaslytherclawgirl @daughterofyourdarklord @fugamalefica @motherfuckingmaneater

[the-forgotten-lycan]

Bold the habits Alexandria Has!

nail biting | throat-clearing | lying | interrupting | chewing the ends of pens | smoking | swearing | knuckle cracking | thumb sucking | muttering under their breath | talking to themselves | binge drinking | oversleeping | snacking between meals | skipping meals | picking at skin | impulse buying | talking with their mouth full | humming/singing to themselves | chewing gum | leg jiggling | foot-tapping | hair twirling | whistling | eye-rolling | licking lips | sniffing | squinting | rubbing hands together | jaw clenching | gesturing while talking | putting feet up on tables | tucking hair behind ears | chewing lips | crossing arms over chest | putting hands on hips | rubbing the back of their neck | being late | procrastinating | doodling | shredding paper | peeling off bottle labels | forgetfulness | running hands through hair | overreacting | teeth grinding | nostril-flaring | slouching | pacing | drumming fingers | fist-clenching | pinching bridge of nose | rubbing temples | rolling shoulders

Taken from: feed.

Tagging: @heirofserpens, @thebigbadwollf, @daughterofyourdarklord & anyone else who hasn’t done this!

[asktheheirofslytherin]

“Gaunt.”  Delphini tried again, legs swinging from the large wingback chair sat opposite her Father, his desk standing tall between them.  She’d always been a curious child, but it wasn’t until recently that she’d really started asking after family history, particularly, His family history. 

“That’s one of the oldest houses in the Sacred Twenty-Eight?”  It was both a question and a statement - Gaunt, Black, Ollivander, each had distinguished claims to being the oldest - the purest.  She knew this, she just wanted to make sure He knew that she knew it as well.  There was more though, something else that was nagging at Delphini since she began prodding her Father about this conversation weeks ago. 

“Why is Gaunt not my last name then?

"Yes," Voldemort conceded, eyeing the small girl interrogating him about his family. About her family. It was the only reason he was humoring her.

"The oldest," Voldemort said, though of course in his research he had been as of yet unable to prove this claim in entirety. In fact, his research actually pointed to the Blacks - which was almost a relief. Anyone but the Ollivanders.

He sighed at her last question, fully prepared to ignore it entirely. But she would ask again. And again. And if he did not speak to her first, she might start digging. Bellatrix might take it upon herself to educate the girl herself.

"The Gaunts are a tragedy," Voldemort said quietly, meeting the little girl's gaze. "The trappings of a distinguished pureblood life you are familiar with - a manor, house elves, pride in our appearances - they had all been lost by the time I was born. My -our- ancestors squandered their fortune. By my conception they lived in a hovel, in filth. My childhood was not like yours. Not like your mother's. My family were all dead or in Azkaban before I was even of age." He paused, and then continued.

"I hate that name with every fiber of my being. I would never burden you with it."

@daughterofyourdarklord

[soul-snake-nagini]

✧

send me a ✧ and i’ll bold all that apply to your muse!

𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙

Hey kid!

I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically). ✧ i need you to translate for me and narcissa.

[askmrsmalfoy]

zinnia :  how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ?  has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?

(I am totally stealing this ask meme btw 👏)

The Malfoys are people who always seem to escape their messes without consequence. It seems as though their life continues on, unaffected by the loss of their close friends and family. I think Cissa definitely follows this at first glance, too involved in the image she and her husband portray to show true emotion publicly, but is deeply hurt by the loss of her sister and her beloved son's innocence.

After the second war she's a bit bitter with Lucius. I don't think she blames him for anything entirely, but can't get past that his involvement with things caused her family such distress. She most definitely does not blame herself for anything. Despite everything though, I don't see her changing her ways too much. She's still entitled as ever, but perhaps a bit quieter and more thoughtful of her surroundings. More skittish and careful. Her social circle has significantly decreased, and she spends more time with her family. Time with her son is more important than ever.

[littlebrotherblack]

5. What is a character you love, but don’t think you can write?

That's a hard question that I don't know how to answer entirely.

I definitely know characters I couldn't write, but that's partially because I don't find them interesting(for instance, I do not like James Potter, but I do find him interesting. It's not whether or not I like a character, it's whether or not finalizes whether I can write them)

I suppose, in the end, Sirius and Delphi are two characters that fit the criteria(interesting, I know enough about them/so little is canon that I can make shit up without contradicting anything).

And side-note, I adore your portrayal of Delphi

[greenbxxn]

daughterofyourdarklord liked this for a starter ;; 

He shifted a bit awkwardly, as he studied her. 

‘‘You sure have grown up a lot, recently, Dephini,’‘ he remarked, not sure what else to say. He hadn’t had the most interaction with her, but he still kept composed carefully as he begun to talk to her.

[motherfuckingmaneater]

It was late.

Much later than any almost two-year-old should be awake at any rate.

Of course, Delphini had made it very clear to her Auntie Cissa that she would not be abiding by bedtime tonight. A handful of extravagant tantrums later (with just a dash explosive magic for flare) and Auntie and niece were cozied up reading by the large fireplace in the foyer. It had been a bit easier to manipulate Narcissa lately, she was a few months pregnant and therefore all the more eager to please little Delphi.

Delphini loved her aunt just the same but spending time with Narcissa was not the reason she needed to stay awake tonight. Ever since the death of Rosier - of Uncle Evan - everything was different. Mother and Father that much more tense, that much more preoccupied. She'd never worried about them before but-

Familiar magic stretched out across the expanse of the entry hall. Finally. Lestrange Estates erupted in a spill of black silk robes and masked faces.

Dark magic surrounded the lot of them, it sung with Delphini’s own, calling for her. She recognized her witch amongst the other Death Eaters immediately despite the fact that they all looked the same cloaked behind a veiled garb. Her mother’s magic gave her away, the feel of it far too familiar - safe.

She wriggled away from her aunt in an instant, all too eager to launch herself into familiar arms.

“Mama!”

Like smoke her mask spelled to the shadows with a wandless flick to reveal her face, contentment written in dark grey eyes from the indulgence of sating her bloodlust. The Lestrange brothers still spoke with her in low, quiet, excited murmurs, their masks remaining unpeeled from their faces as yet. Others began to follow in to the estate, still masked.

Vengeance was sweet but still Bellatrix wanted to see her Master. One of the brothers drew back his sleeve at her nod, they’d always been quick to follow her.

The familiar but unexpected pattering of feet drew her gaze towards the foyer. A short laugh followed as fingers clamoured and demanded. The smallest one of them all and the most revered. Her mother would never hesitate to oblige.

In an instant, the countenance of Lord Voldemort's feared right hand shifted entirely for one of the only two who could earn this level of affection from her, doting loving mother reaching down to pull her daughter into her arms and sweeping away from the crowds gathered in their excited, hushed conversations. She had no need to linger, they knew what they needed to do.

“Hello my little one.” A kiss planted on her face, thumb moving to gently sweep lipstick from her a moment later, “Did you convince Aunty to let you stay up again?" Rather, had she demanded until she got her way? Bellatrix's smile said it all, as did the low laughter which followed. "My, but you are spoilt by her, aren't you?"

[motherfuckingmaneater]

She felt the bite within her own scar as though it had re-opened as the dagger sliced through Delphini's flesh, a quick jolt of pain which subsided quicker still. When she'd cut her own palm, Walburga had felt it too. Later she'd felt it when Narcissa came here too. Witches were more than merely sacred within the Black family. They embodied the celestials - only they could call upon the ancient bloods and rites.

A witch of the House of Black was the greatest blessing upon them.

Memories flooded expeditively - an unfamiliar sensation - one that almost made Bellatrix flinch. It ripped through her chest the same way it had seventeen years ago, dark magic tearing apart and giving way for darker magic still. The rifts in stars above which had shifted to give way for the birth of her daughter jolted out of alignment and back again so quickly it wounded her deeper than the bite of the dagger: this went to her soul. Somewhere in the ether, Lord Voldemort felt it too. Just as he had last time Bellatrix was here. Just as he had the moment Delphini had come into the world.

For one terrifying moment, she thought her magic hadn't worked. Then the gates open, her blood drawn into wrought iron and welcomed. Bellatrix couldn't help the laugh which passed her lips, half in disbelief, half in utter happiness. Her fingers drew tight, arms secure and welcoming around her witch.

"Oh, my darling." Her lips pressed to her daughter's temple. Fingers cupped her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek as she sighed the worry she'd been holding onto for seventeen years, "I would do anything for you."

The gates may have opened, but the double doors behind remained closed. Bellatrix turned her gaze as the whispers quickly became harrowing, broken voices screaming through the double doors lit up in bright light, one half in blue and the other half in orange. On each side a dragon ornately carved into the metalwork, both dragons facing one another. The dragon in blue was lit by stars and two moons. The dragon in orange by the sun. Though. . .

Something looked wrong.

She stepped through the threshold first as whispers became louder. Her head tipped aside a little as she narrowed her eyes up at the doors, trying to place what it was that felt so different - trying to understand the voices of her bloodline but finding herself unable to. Closer Bellatrix went, the wide path which led up to door surrounded by vines turning from emerald green to black the closer she got, as though rot was spreading outwards from the walls of her home.

"What?" she asked in half an exhale, voice hardly heard to her own ears as though she was asking them to speak more clearly. Bellatrix clutched her hand around the hilt of her wand as she paced slowly closer, her gaze unmoving as she focussed hard on their voices. She listened, gazing up at the doors. Suddenly she stilled.

The dragons eyes were dripping blood.

Then she realised what they were saying. They weren't speaking. They were crying. They were warning her. . .

"Delphini." She called, turning half a moment for her.

Your sins, your sins. The price of your greed. The blood of your daughter.

Your sins.

". . .stay close."

Towering turrets which far surpassed the grandeur of Hogwart’s own stood as tall and rife with dark magic as Bellatrix herself seemed to, faces of dragons and ancient Blacks from the 13th century glaring down at mother and daughter as they stood before the heavy, imposing gates.

“You know — I hope — how sacred we Black witches are. We take rights of passage onto the ancestral home when we become of age.” Grey eyes turn over her younger witch. Sometimes her gaze stilled over her, studying her face. All she remembered at times was the little child she’d had torn from her arms. “I trust my aunt and my father told you what you needed to know.”

The late evening sun glinted off the blade she raised. She turned it fluidly in her palm, clutching the silver between long thin digits, hilt offered.

“You spill your blood only once.”

She showed her own palm as if it would offer certainty. All that remained was a faded line, an ancient scar from three decades past. Delphini would be ingrained in the stone and the earth, she’d be bound forever to the house of Black just as her mother was.

They would know. The moment her blood would touch the door, Delphini would hear it. Whispers, magic of green and white and blue and black cloaking ethereally, stars shimmering on the doors, her name written into the most noble and ancient house of Black, acceptance would be given.

All Bellatrix could hope that was that the magic she’d done — or rather, undone — years ago, would be enough to grant her heiress entry.

Delphini smiles up at her mother, eyes twinkling a bit as she jokes. 

“I think you already know the answer to that one, mum.” If there was one thing Auntie Walburga and grandfather put an emphasis on it was Black tradition. Not that Delphini had minded, she’d soaked it up, all too eager to learn about the family she was almost taken away from. 

The dagger is cold in her hands, the metal of it gleaming amongst the night.

This is it. 

Her smile falters a bit as she brings the blade to her palm. Normally, she’d never hesitate, but Delphini knew… She knew there was a chance that this magic, this ancestry, might outright reject her. Her blood was, of course, of House Black, of House Gaunt - of Salazar Slytherin himself - some of the purest blood in all of the wizarding world, tainted. 

Delphini could only hope that that ancient and noble blood she grew up worshiping was potent enough to cleanse whatever muggle filth had infiltrated their family. Father had done everything he could to wipe it (him) out, now it was up to Delphini to prove it. 

She drove the blade in perhaps deeper than necessary, relishing in the bite of the silver before raising her hand to the handle boldly. Here we go. 

A wave of magic radiates upward the instant her blood seeps into the wrought iron, echoes of the ancient rites suddenly whispering all around her, some sounding like they were coming from just behind, others right in her ear. Delphi shivers, the smile returning to her face as she closes her eyes as though it will help her listen to their words more clearly.

She sees them, the faces of the hundreds that had come before her - she looks like them. The same distinguished bones sheathed beneath impeccable pale skin, those nearly too full lips, elegant black waves framing symmetrical features. The eyes though, Delphini has those muggle eyes. 

They were speaking to her - calling for her. 

She loses sight of them all, now lost somewhere amongst the stars. Someone new is chanting, amidst the constellations she turns. It is her mother, only it is not. Bellatrix is pregnant, the stars reflecting in her entirely black eyes. She has a hand on her prominent stomach, runes climbing up her neck and down her arms. Suddenly, she looks right at Delphini- 

She gasps as a force shoves her backwards, eyes shooting open. The door burns hot, her wound cauterizing from the intensity of it. Still, she does not let go. 

In a burst of magic the gate flies open, nearly taking her arm with it. Delphini freezes for a moment, almost shell shocked, waiting for something to happen. She is entranced by the growing magic, those same voices seeming to lure her deeper into the castle. 

“It worked!” She cries, turning around only to immediately throw herself into her mother’s arms, laughing joyfully against the older witch’s shoulder. Bellatrix had done this for her, Delphini knows it (saw it), her mother had thought her all those years ago and found a way to ensure she’d be granted entry. The younger witch pulls away gently, looking up into her mother’s eyes and hoping her own were reflecting all the words she wanted to say but couldn’t. All she could manage was a gentle:

“Thank you, mama.”

[crucioslut]

😛 Stick their tongue out at my muse

"You're not going anywhere tomorrow night. I don't care which of your little friends is having a party-" Delphini made to cut her off, but Bellatrix dominated over her. "-And I don't care if everybody is going to be there." She scoffed, shaking her head with disinterest as she idly flipped through her book. "Who exactly is 'everyone', anyway? All who are important will be here tomorrow night for your cousin's ceremony. Including you. End of discussion." Bella didn't need to look up at Delphini to know she was starring at her from the doorway with malice in her eyes. She could feel it. "Now, off you go." She warned. "Go do something else. you're irritating me." When footsteps didn't immediately follow, Bellatrix glanced over just in time to see Delphini pull a face and stick her tongue out before she tore from the room down the hallway. Her mother sprung from her feet, jumping over the back of the sofa she'd layed upon to run after her. She caught up easy, cornering the girl in the kitchen. Bellatrix grabbed her by her face and stuck her fingers in her mouth to physically yank the tongue out of her teenage daughter's mouth, pinching it hard. "Do it again and I'll cut your tongue out." She whispered, almost sweetly. "Know that I'm not kidding." @daughterofyourdarklord

[tmvoldemort]

"You called."

Send "You called." for me to write a drabble where my muse rushes to your muse in a desperate moment where they need them.

@daughterofyourdarklord

There were few moments in his long life which had stopped The Dark Lord in his tracks. And fewer people who render him speechless. He wonder what sort of impression he made upon her.

When she answer his, "You came." with, "You called."

Surely it was hard to read such a shock on an expressionless face such as his. One made even harder to read now without a fleshly face. Nah with out a proper body to make a face. One without a neck to hold up. Or arms to gesture. A solid form even! Blown apart, soul render out by a toddler no less!

Curse be upon Harry Potter and his dead family! To hell with The Order and the Wizardry World.

But oh!

Lord Voldemort's red eyes turn upon the young woman. His child.

She who boldly stride forward, his hero. How much she looked like Bellatrix. But there was some of him there too. That determine look, a cunning, sharp way the light hits her eyes. More important then looks. His own family who came to save him! A concept so alien and foreign it stir with in him something forgotten it almost seem obscene. Harking to an old hurting long ago.

"I knew you would be far more loyal and braver." He said, a hint of bitterness to his followers.

Surely they fully grown with more resources could have saved him long ago! But neverminded, Voldemort shook his head. He would not taint this mood.

[star-named-riddle]

WIP Last Line Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @celestemagnoliathewriter (and sorry for the delay, I'm currently traveling and this is the sort of thing I like to do on my laptop and not on my phone)

Rules: Post the last line you wrote in your current WIP and tag as many people as there are words.

This line comes from part two of Into the wolf's mouth she went (and from within she slayed it)

And then he had turned her over in bed, and licked jam off her back, before torturing her with his touch for the rest of the morning.

That's bloody long

@elder-millennial-trash @lemoncakesarethebest @fugamalefica @justaslytherclawgirl @metvmorqhoses @mollymarymarie @neondomino @onelatenight-longago @owlways-and-forever @bella-black-lestrange-riddle @daughterofyourdarklord @fluffyferret6 @readingwritingraptures @veelawings @vibesandfandom @motherfuckingmaneater @theresthesnitch @thistlecatfics @artemisia-black @ncoincidences @dreamsofdramione @screamingfae @thealmostrhetoricalquestion @ayadiefair @whatsomalfoy @steelprisms