thelordofdarkness

[thelordofdarkness]

She was quick to slide her arm into his. This would have been too intimate of a gesture for him in the past, but now, it only seemed natural. Regardless, he kept his gaze ahead as they walked out of the room after she opened the door.

He led her to the spacious gardens of the estate he had acquired from Rodolphus Lestrange over a decade ago, where he now had his temporary headquarters. It was in the middle of a Muggle city, something that always left a bad taste in his mouth. Still, he needed it.

'It was very generous of your husband to donate this place in the service of the Dark Lord,' said he. 'Still, we would need some other place soon. We cannot stay here for long.'

Indeed they could not. It would raise suspicions and although he had more than enough protection in place, one of his Death Eaters could prove to be careless. Pettigrew, perhaps. He already had a place in mind for their next headquarters, but still, he asked her, 'Do you have any suggestions?'

When she asked him about where he'd gone, he pursed his mouth, hesitating at first, but then decided he would tell her, as promised.

'Morocco,' he said. 'I went there to search for something I'd been wanting to acquire for a long time. A relic.'

As they walked further into the gardens, he took some time to quietly admire the view. The years had changed them, yet there was allure in their wildness. It almost reminded him of Hogwarts. His grip tightened on Bellatrix's hand as he thought of his home. Before he knew it, they had left the property and arrived in the street outside.

Voldemort crinkled his nostrils as the Muggle buildings came into view, piling the farther they walked. 'You could hunt them soon, once I am in control.'

Finally, he stopped in the corner of an alleyway, backing her towards a wall. Her offer of coming with him in his quests was quite amusing, charming even, but his eyes narrowed when she asked him about being lonely.

'Solitude does not bother me. And I am quite capable of looking out for myself, Bella. You would do well to remember that...'

How easy it was to placate her. She was enthusiastically asking him questions with such candour, when half an hour ago she'd been crying and yelling at him. He had ignored her then. After all, she was being volatile and he hadn't wanted to worsen it, but now that she was calmer...

'Bellatrix,' he said, lifting his hand to stroke her cheek, a hint of danger in his caress. 'Tell me one thing. Do you not have trust in me, as you once did? I remember you as a girl, how you idolised me. I can see that has changed.'

an abrupt ,  heated kiss during the middle of a fight -thelordofdarkness

Throughout the many years Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix had spent together, she'd learned time and time again to expect a certain level of disappointment from her master. There were needs that he would never fulfill and although this was a most painful conclusion to come to, she finally had. It had only taken a few decades to see things for what they were, and fourteen long years locked away from the world, and away from him to somewhat let go of those girlish dreamy delusions. It was clear to Bellatrix now more than ever what the wicked lovers were and what they were not. It broke her. But her devotion remained unscathed, intact and stronger than ever.

But this? Surely not after everything she had done for him.

It was just two months following her escape from Azkaban that the Dark Lord had vanished one day unannounced leaving not a trace behind. Nobody was aware of his wearabouts for weeks during which time Bella made herself absolutely sick with anxiety. Was he dead? Or worse.. had he simply left them? Left her. The witch's most fragile mind still fresh with the inky tarnish of the effects of Azkaban spiralled into madness. Her thoughts went everywhere, to the worst possible scenarios. During the nights she stay wide awake, at times inconsolable, at times so far away that she couldn't hear when her sister or husband spoke to her. Wracking her brain, Bella asked herself over and over what she could have done to make her Master hate her so, hate her enough to leave her without a single word.

Thin pale fingers carefully caressed the mark on her forearm, beckoning him to call her. But he didn't. For three week, there was nothing.

Without Lord Voldemort, Bellatrix would die. Yes, she would die, she'd convinced herself. Much of her felt dead already as it were.

That was until one night when suddenly he'd returned. Offering no explanation as to where he'd been all that time and conducting an entire meeting as if nothing had happened, making his most loyal sit at his right and repress such deep scorn she felt as though she would combust.

It was later that night, when they were all alone that Bellatrix could no longer hold back. She'd lost control. Had she been a moment younger, a pinch more sane, this would have never occured.

The outburst she'd started prompted her master to rise and make to leave the room, muttering something about her needing to get a hold of her emotions.

"UGH! No!" Bellatrix all but shrieked. Her hands flew to her heavy mound of thick black curls and pulled at them in frustration, wandless magic slamming the door shut just as the Dark Lord was about to cross the threshold. "No!" She yelled again, stamping her heeled foot on the marble floors. Her fists now balled to her sides as she stood, rigid and practically vibrating all at once.

"You can't- You can't do this to me!" Bella roared, she began stalking towards him. "How dare you?!" Never had Bellatrix spoken to her master this way. Not once, but she simply couldn't hold back. "After everything?! Everything I've done for you?" The last sentence a whisper.

As Bellatrix reached him their eyes met. Her face once twisted in rage of a woman scorned softened into doe eyes and a deep pout, her lip quivering. "I thought you were dead. I thought.. I thought you'd left me."

Like foolish butter she melted under that stone cold gaze of pure evil, just as she always had. Tears welled in her eyes. To her dismay, one managed to roll down her cheek. Head tilted curiously, her brows knit together. "My Lord.. Why didn't you tell me?"

By now the memory of rational that was left within her expected a punishment. She'd overstepped in a big way and was very aware. Of course, Madam Lestrange could have given up then. Sank to her knees and kissed his shoes, begged for his forgiveness. No.

To her astonishment, in a split second they'd switched positions. The Dark Lord flipping her around so that it was her between the door and him. His cold, reptilian touch was all over her neck and chest as his mouth covered hers, stealing away her choked back sob as her breathing became erratic. For a few seconds Bella reacted with nothing but shock, stiffening before completely, entirely relaxing against him. Physically feeling all of the tension leaving her body her shoulders went limp, heavy eye lids fluttering shut. Bellatrix opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, their tongues plunging into opposing mouths with vigor.

And there was nothing she could do but to succumb.

@thelordofdarkness

[thelordofdarkness]

[  MOUTH  ]  for  your  muse  to  put  their  hand  over  my  muse’s  mouth  -thelordofdarkness

She quivered so lusciously. it hurt. Her master had requested her presence at his chambers that night. The very same day he'd broken her out of Azkaban. And now Bellatrix found herself enveloped by silk sheets and the scent of clove, having not remembered what it was like to feel anything aside from hard, damp stone, smelling nothing but musty, stale air for fourteen years. Her senses were dancing in the most beautiful macabre landscape, in the most pleasurable fashion. And she quivered. Writhing beneath the touch of his cold hands which were more reptillian than they'd ever been before. Bella's heart hammered hard against her chest and although she made attempts to steady her ragged breaths it was out of her control. Every inch of her was overwhelmed and she felt as though she would rip her own flesh off before she could ever stop her involuntary reaction to her Master's invasion of her willing body once at last, after so many years desperately longing to be His again. Voldemort settled between her legs fully clothed against her naked from. A form that had changed significantly since He'd last seen her, uncomfortably sharp with bones that stuck out everywhere. A face depleted and no longer etched in youth. But her Lord touched her expertly, as if all of those decadent curves he'd grown to enjoy so much still occupied his palms. He rest against her, sliding his forked tongue down her neck, a low rumbled chuckle into her ear when she twisted and rose her hips from the bed seeking the friction that she died for. Voldemort sharply pushed her back down flat against the matress. He'd always loved how he affected his most loyal follower and taken great joy in reducing such an all powerful, respected and feared witch into a mewling, needy kitten who needed to be used. The time they'd spent apart hadn't changed that. "Master..." Bellatrix breathed out. "Please.." A strong hand found its rightful place around her throat, firmly but not constrictive, as her master took His time rejoicing in her aura. Revelling in exploring her from head to toe properly and each and every little sound his Bella made in response. He did not speak as his touch travelled down, watching her intently with something like amazement flashing behind his red eyes. Bella's brows knit together, her lips parted and large dark eyes pleading for more that were welling with tears, the intensity of her desire far too much to handle. Her breath was hot on his face, and each time she attempted to kiss him, he'd lean just out of her reach with a smirk, unable to resist his own petty torments. "Please.." She hissed out once again. Bellatrix felt the stickiness between her legs coating her beckoning core in abundance. Then suddenly, without a hint of a warning, three of His long fingers slammed into her depths with the force of fourteen years missed. Bellatrix all but screamed out a moan at this, fluttering her eyes shut as the tears escaped streaming down her cheeks. Her head thrown back onto the pillow, arching her lower body off the bed once again. His fingers tore through her with no consideration for how long it'd been since she'd been taken. It hurt terribly, and it was in that moment that for the first time in fourteen years she'd felt complete. Voldemort set into a violent pace right away, the force of his thrusting arm throwing the bed'd headboard audibly against the wall and causing Bellatrix's body to jerk with the impact. Her arousal pooled fragrant in the palm of his hand. The sounds she made were loud, animalistic and incoherent somewhere between agony and rapture. The hand that held her throat moved up then to clasp hard over her mouth. "Shhh." @thelordofdarkness

[thelordofdarkness]

The implications of their 'position' only dawned upon him when he had her against the wall. It had been pure instinct that had caused him to push her against it, but what had got into him that he now stood staring down at the full red lips of a beautiful woman, his protégé at that?

It was that damned wine.

He quickly removed his hand from her chin, and was just about to step away from her when Bellatrix dropped her wineglass, splashing some of the drink on his robes, and then began to giggle.

"You've sullied my robes," he murmured as he cast a cleaning spell on them.

The thought of removing himself from her was as good as forgotten. He stood there as if glued to the floor, still holding her in place as he stared at her antics, completely flabbergasted by her behaviour. Giggling in front of Lord Voldemort! She truly was drunk out of her mind. She was sure to regret her actions come morning.

She seemed to realise it too, as only moments later, her giggling stopped and her expression turned to one of fear. That was something he was more comfortable with. His previously narrowed eyes widened then as they studied her delicate features framed by sharp bones. Bellatrix Black was a truly captivating sight, even when drunk. He could not deny that.

She had been in his service for only a few months, and she'd already managed to make quite an impression on him. He was impressed by her magical prowess, and just as much, her passion for the Dark arts and for his Cause itself. Something also seemed to linger under the surface: a love for power, not unlike his own. Still, even as he chased power, she seemed to rejoice in it, or the illusion of it.

What a fascinating girl.

Now, her drunken behaviour was just as fascinating. Who would have dared to stand before him, spilling wine on his robes, alone at night at quarters that belonged to him, and instead of begging for mercy, look into his eyes and proclaim their loyalty?

His brow shot up as she tried to explain why she was here, his eyes never leaving her. 'Know me? And what, pray tell, do you want to know?'

He had to stop himself from looking too long at her bare, white arm as her dress slipped even further away. Since when did women's arms start to fascinate him? Shaking his head, he finally stepped away from her as she managed to pull away from his grasp.

'Do you not enjoy their company? Your husband is there as well...'

He was impressed that at least she was able to keep her composure even now, as she studied the extensive art he had collected over the years.

'Some of the finest pieces in Wizarding History. This one, Carathi's Inferno,' he pointed to a portrait of a woman clad in red who was riding a thestral and setting fire to a village below as her long black curls flew behind her. 'Reminds me of you. Have you seen it before?'

He had decided he would play along with her, give her some leeway today. Perhaps it was just his drunken state, but he was surprised that he was actually interested in someone's company, much less a young girl's. Something in him wanted to see where this would go.

He could not help the smirk that appeared on his face when she heralded him as the epitome of greatness.

'Of course, I remember. You've grown a lot since. But enough of the flattery,' he finished, then steeling himself, added, 'Give me one reason I should not punish you for being here.'

Prompt: an encounter after both parties had a little too much wine. Bellatrix is 19 and has just joined his rankings.

Lord Voldemort stood at the banister of his home, drink in hand as he stared down at his Death Eaters having their celebration in his ballroom below. They'd finally managed to infiltrate the Ministry and everything else was child's play after that. Very soon now he would take over the entire Wizarding Britain, so a small celebration seemed appropriate.

He took a sip of his wine, immediately feeling his head spin. Sighing, he downed the entire glass in one go and then vanished it without looking at it. Was it his fourth glass? Fifth? He shouldn't have let himself get carried away, even if it wasn't intentional. The wineglass was charmed to keep refilling and he'd not even noticed how much he'd drunk until now.

Now that the damage was already done...

He needed to go back to his bedchamber at once and sleep it all off. It had been unwise to get into this state at all, let alone allow any of his Death Eaters to see him so vulnerable. He turned away from the banister and made his way upstairs, thankfully still sober enough that he was able to walk smoothly. His mind, however, was disoriented. So disoriented that he did not even notice the girl walking past him until he stumbled into her.

'What—'

It was Bellatrix, his newest recruit, looking even more drunk than him. His eyes narrowed as they stared down at her, at her lovely face and then swept up and down her body where her dress had slipped off a little. What was she doing at the floor that belonged only to him, and at this hour. He must have been sloppy with the wards, but did she have a death wish?

'Shouldn't you be at the party, Bellatrix?'

He stepped in closer to her until she was pinned against the wall behind her, his body very nearly pressed against hers. He raised his hand to stroke her jaw, then roughly caught her chin, lifting it and forcing her to look up at him.

'You shouldn't be here,' whispered Voldemort, leaning towards Bellatrix. 'Did nobody tell you these quarters belong to me alone? No one else is allowed here.'

[thelordofdarkness]

It is wonderful! So in character, because this is exactly how I imagine them in private.

I haven't seen this beautiful art on tumblr yet and I had to share it with the world!

Art by bellatrisia on insta. Please go follow them!

[thelordofdarkness]

Prompt: an encounter after both parties had a little too much wine. Bellatrix is 19 and has just joined his rankings.

Lord Voldemort stood at the banister of his home, drink in hand as he stared down at his Death Eaters having their celebration in his ballroom below. They'd finally managed to infiltrate the Ministry and everything else was child's play after that. Very soon now he would take over the entire Wizarding Britain, so a small celebration seemed appropriate.

He took a sip of his wine, immediately feeling his head spin. Sighing, he downed the entire glass in one go and then vanished it without looking at it. Was it his fourth glass? Fifth? He shouldn't have let himself get carried away, even if it wasn't intentional. The wineglass was charmed to keep refilling and he'd not even noticed how much he'd drunk until now.

Now that the damage was already done...

He needed to go back to his bedchamber at once and sleep it all off. It had been unwise to get into this state at all, let alone allow any of his Death Eaters to see him so vulnerable. He turned away from the banister and made his way upstairs, thankfully still sober enough that he was able to walk smoothly. His mind, however, was disoriented. So disoriented that he did not even notice the girl walking past him until he stumbled into her.

'What—'

It was Bellatrix, his newest recruit, looking even more drunk than him. His eyes narrowed as they stared down at her, at her lovely face and then swept up and down her body where her dress had slipped off a little. What was she doing at the floor that belonged only to him, and at this hour. He must have been sloppy with the wards, but did she have a death wish?

'Shouldn't you be at the party, Bellatrix?'

He stepped in closer to her until she was pinned against the wall behind her, his body very nearly pressed against hers. He raised his hand to stroke her jaw, then roughly caught her chin, lifting it and forcing her to look up at him.

'You shouldn't be here,' whispered Voldemort, leaning towards Bellatrix. 'Did nobody tell you these quarters belong to me alone? No one else is allowed here.'

[thelordofdarkness]

high fashion voldemort aesthetic/moodboard

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9.

[thelordofdarkness]

He hadn't thought his absence would affect her so greatly.

Lord Voldemort did not need Legilimency to know that Bellatrix was probably seething inside as she sat right beside him. Her constantly shifting feet, tapping fingers, and pursing mouth were enough to give her inner state away. Still, she barely looked at him, except when she was glancing at him with something akin to longing in her eyes.

Had she missed him?

He did not return her glances, focusing instead on the matter at hand.

'You're all dismissed,' he finally said as he concluded the meeting. He waited for his Death Eaters to leave the room, ignoring most of them as they made their reverence, nodding to some.

As the last Death Eater, barring Bellatrix, left the room, he finally rose from his chair. She, however, did not even budge, eyes fixed on him now. Had he been less tired, he would have responded to her, perhaps scolded her for her behaviour at the meeting. As it was, he needed some rest. He could deal with her later.

Just then, she snapped. He was taken aback at first, but then he shook his head and walked past her, hissing, 'When will you learn to control your emotions?'

Before he could leave, the door slammed shut. Locked. His long, white fingers lingered on the doorknob for a moment but then he slowly turned around to face her, his mouth curling.

Yes, she had missed him.

Voldemort was not used to being missed by anyone, and not at all lately. Come to think of it, she was the only one who'd ever missed his presence, but never like this before. His memories of the First War were hazy still, almost as if they belonged to someone else, but they were still there. Had she ever behaved like this before? He didn't think so.

'What is the matter with you today?'

She did not respond. He just stood there with his head tipped to the side, watching her as her outburst continued, as she stepped towards him and cried about how unjust he'd been.

What was he to say to that?

It was when she expressed fear about his death that he addressed her concerns for the first time. 'Dead? even after I've defied death, a feat hitherto unaccomplished, you still doubt my immortality...'

'I do not owe you an explanation,' he said when she complained about him not telling her about where he'd gone. Regardless, he was not angry at her. Merely curious.

Something seemed to snap within her then, as if the implications of what she'd just done had finally dawned upon her. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted, and his gaze went to her lips...

The sight of her so vulnerable and afraid seemed to rouse something in Lord Voldemort. She was at his mercy now, afraid of his punishment for her misdemeanour, and as her ample bosom rose and fell under his eyes, he stepped closer to her.

She was very appealing like that, and he'd missed her too.

He could Cruciate her if he wanted to, but he did not want that. Before he could stop himself, Lord Voldemort grabbed Bellatrix by a hand on her back and pulled her closer, flipping her so she was pressed back against the door, and he pressed himself against her body.

He kissed her hard, hands squeezed the heaving breasts he'd just been eyeing. He shoved his tongue down her throat as one hand massaged the soft flesh of her breasts through her robes and the other wrapped around her throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure. She deepened their kiss, the perfect mixture of compliance and eagerness in one woman, and he kept sucking on her tongue, and then his erection was digging into her thigh...

He bit her lip hard, drawing blood, and then pulled away from her. He didn't want to take this further. His body desirous but he would not give her what she wanted so easily after her insolence. It would not do to spoil her.

'Come, walk with me,' he finally said, offering his hand. He was still slightly breathless but hid it well. 'Let me tell you about my travels.'

an abrupt ,  heated kiss during the middle of a fight -thelordofdarkness

Throughout the many years Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix had spent together, she'd learned time and time again to expect a certain level of disappointment from her master. There were needs that he would never fulfill and although this was a most painful conclusion to come to, she finally had. It had only taken a few decades to see things for what they were, and fourteen long years locked away from the world, and away from him to somewhat let go of those girlish dreamy delusions. It was clear to Bellatrix now more than ever what the wicked lovers were and what they were not. It broke her. But her devotion remained unscathed, intact and stronger than ever.

But this? Surely not after everything she had done for him.

It was just two months following her escape from Azkaban that the Dark Lord had vanished one day unannounced leaving not a trace behind. Nobody was aware of his wearabouts for weeks during which time Bella made herself absolutely sick with anxiety. Was he dead? Or worse.. had he simply left them? Left her. The witch's most fragile mind still fresh with the inky tarnish of the effects of Azkaban spiralled into madness. Her thoughts went everywhere, to the worst possible scenarios. During the nights she stay wide awake, at times inconsolable, at times so far away that she couldn't hear when her sister or husband spoke to her. Wracking her brain, Bella asked herself over and over what she could have done to make her Master hate her so, hate her enough to leave her without a single word.

Thin pale fingers carefully caressed the mark on her forearm, beckoning him to call her. But he didn't. For three week, there was nothing.

Without Lord Voldemort, Bellatrix would die. Yes, she would die, she'd convinced herself. Much of her felt dead already as it were.

That was until one night when suddenly he'd returned. Offering no explanation as to where he'd been all that time and conducting an entire meeting as if nothing had happened, making his most loyal sit at his right and repress such deep scorn she felt as though she would combust.

It was later that night, when they were all alone that Bellatrix could no longer hold back. She'd lost control. Had she been a moment younger, a pinch more sane, this would have never occured.

The outburst she'd started prompted her master to rise and make to leave the room, muttering something about her needing to get a hold of her emotions.

"UGH! No!" Bellatrix all but shrieked. Her hands flew to her heavy mound of thick black curls and pulled at them in frustration, wandless magic slamming the door shut just as the Dark Lord was about to cross the threshold. "No!" She yelled again, stamping her heeled foot on the marble floors. Her fists now balled to her sides as she stood, rigid and practically vibrating all at once.

"You can't- You can't do this to me!" Bella roared, she began stalking towards him. "How dare you?!" Never had Bellatrix spoken to her master this way. Not once, but she simply couldn't hold back. "After everything?! Everything I've done for you?" The last sentence a whisper.

As Bellatrix reached him their eyes met. Her face once twisted in rage of a woman scorned softened into doe eyes and a deep pout, her lip quivering. "I thought you were dead. I thought.. I thought you'd left me."

Like foolish butter she melted under that stone cold gaze of pure evil, just as she always had. Tears welled in her eyes. To her dismay, one managed to roll down her cheek. Head tilted curiously, her brows knit together. "My Lord.. Why didn't you tell me?"

By now the memory of rational that was left within her expected a punishment. She'd overstepped in a big way and was very aware. Of course, Madam Lestrange could have given up then. Sank to her knees and kissed his shoes, begged for his forgiveness. No.

To her astonishment, in a split second they'd switched positions. The Dark Lord flipping her around so that it was her between the door and him. His cold, reptilian touch was all over her neck and chest as his mouth covered hers, stealing away her choked back sob as her breathing became erratic. For a few seconds Bella reacted with nothing but shock, stiffening before completely, entirely relaxing against him. Physically feeling all of the tension leaving her body her shoulders went limp, heavy eye lids fluttering shut. Bellatrix opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, their tongues plunging into opposing mouths with vigor.

And there was nothing she could do but to succumb.

@thelordofdarkness

[thelordofdarkness]

““I am not here to tame your darkness,” she whispered,“ I am here to live in it.””

—  crave the fire 

[thelordofdarkness]

I love how both Voldemort and Bellatrix call Harry 'little boy' to mock him. People who spend lots of time together often pick up each other's habits ;)