Anonymous asked: “ do you rp with people who aren't apart of the first adventure? ”

Hello anon, no on this account I do not interact with people from outside the group. Nevertheless, I do have a second account in a different group which can be found here, so if you have stumbled upon that one which made you ask this question, then yes, that is me. I hope this answered your question? If not, feel free to shoot me another one. 

What have these nasty creatures prepared for dinner?


Oh, Bella, you sound so desperate to show that you’re in somewhat control of your life when you’re really not. But if you like to believe that, then go ahead, I couldn’t possibly stop you.


Keeping up with your psych is not one of my priorities at the moment.

At least I have done an acceptable attempt to keep myself in control, whereas you have thrown yourself towards the first healthy, rich and somewhat handsome man you set your eyes upon. Don’t you dare to judge me, Alecto. You’ve got no right.

Because your life is so interesting and you have so many friends. [She spat, sarcasm obvious in her voice.] 

Thunderstruck † Daisy and Bellatrix


Daisy inwardly blanched at the witch’s comments. She had tried her best to stay out of Bellatrix’s way as much as she could during her years here at Hogwarts and she had mostly succeeded. Unfortunately for her, Daisy’s luck seemed to have run out in that measure. While she was all for ignoring the rumor mill, this Black sister had one that she hadn’t wanted to delve into. 

She gave smile that was a bit strained at the edges, though could still be considered polite. “Right, of course. My apologies,” she said, hoping it would alleviate some of the Slytherin’s distaste. “Rest assured, I’m quite confident that the house elves will be able to get that out and it’ll be as good as new,” she said confidently, hoping that Bellatrix took it. 

She took a step back, moving as casually as she possibly could in the face of such an arrogant and possibly dangerous witch. “I’d best be getting out of your way then, Miss Black.” Another step was made to remove herself from directly in front of the other teen. She rather desperately hoped that Bellatrix was distracted enough that she would focus all that energy elsewhere. Preferably on something that couldn’t be maimed. 

Cautious and predictable the woman’s actions were to Bellatrix, the corners of her crimson lips curling up in a pleased smirk at her piteous attempt to leave, flee, retreat as a coward would do. It was going to be fun to punish her as she deserved for ruining her shirt and as she deserved for her existence, in general. 

”Stop.” she hissed the word, demanding, the note of authority and royalty audible beneath her cruel tone. She was a Black after all, the queen of their rotten world when it came to the Purebloods and, as she believed, it would soon come to the whole world. 

”It’s naive of you to think you can escape your punishment, little foolish girl. Come back here.” Bellatrix rose an eyebrow, awaiting a response and any movement coming from the girl. Some people had stopped to watch the encounter, but she did not pay any attention to them, apart from thinking that if they wanted a show, they would get one.

(Source: eldestblack)

Making Up. Maybe. || Bellatrix and Andromeda


Andromeda watched her sister closely, waiting for her reply. The silence fell over them once more, covering them in a thick blanket. Her tongue suddenly felt too big for her mouth, thick and heavy. But she felt glued in place, unable to move until Bellatrix broke the silence. She couldn’t quite figure out what to say. The indifferent shrug fueled a growing fire inside of her. The anger that she had just released seemed to be growing inside of her once more. 

Bellatrix had grown up? Andy licked her lips, standing up from the sofa. She felt strong once again, functioning on the adrenaline pumping in her. “Did you?” she asked quietly, looking into her sister’s eyes. It was almost like they were representing two different sides. Bellatrix was so obviously lost to the dark side, standing in the shadows figuratively and literally. But Andromeda was fighting her way to the light, to the good side, the light shining on her. 

"I don’t think you did," Andromeda spoke once more after a long pause. She spoke with an increasing sense of strength. She no longer felt frightened right now. "You didn’t. You haven’t. You never will.. Not as long as you support what you support. All you’re doing is eradicating or attempting to eradicate a portion of the human race. Can you not comprehend that what you think is unjust?" 

At first she spoke a bit timidly, slightly afraid of what Bellatrix would do or think, but the more she spoke, the more strength she felt. She had to correct her sister’s thinking. She couldn’t just let her wipe out the muggleborns or halfbloods… or whatever she wished. She simply didn’t believe in blood purity. Everyone was as much of a wizard as the rest of the purebloods were. 

"I can’t let you keep going on like this, Bellatrix. You’re not the girl who used to be my sister," she added quietly, continuing to look her sister straight on. 

The desecrated sentence her once beloved sister had spoken sounded horrendous, cruel and inequitable to her delicate ears, nevertheless the actualisation of their situation remained that Bellatrix had not been present for an indescribable amount of time, alive in nothing but her own world, locked too far within herself and unable to break the shackles, imprisoned in a different universe. Her anxiousness to cause failure or possess weakness had often led to dangerousness, her dangerousness then in turn leading to anger, which let to more failure, she supposed.

”No.” The response was rather simple, nonetheless, the sensation of the torturous end of a fantastic book approached her, the emotions that were felt when forced to leave the writer and the universe he or she created somehow beneath the surface, the haze of confusion mixed with both relief as sadness alike having succeeded to slip through the cracks in her countenance, truthful, as if they had managed to slip through the broken pieces of her soul too.

Despite the consequences of her answer, she had not lied. She did not understand her sister’s weird fixation with the other breed, the impure, that had been named for a reason that was more than obvious. Purebloods had vanished, their reign over, but this time their righteous claim on the throne would be heard and accepted. This time, each of them would sit on the top of the world as each of them deserved to. Nevertheless, the other worthless breed had continued to spread as a plague, infecting those with a pure mind, bending the innocent souls to attend to their need and requests.

The traitors were to be punished, though somewhere Bellatrix understood their foolishness. Not every person was as strong and impenetrable as she was - or rather, had been before she had become this wreck, this machine.

Invisible bullets that existed in nothing but another one of her questionable fantasies soared around them, wounded that part of a lighter blackness that no one appeared to see or cared enough to notice, the broken parts of that piece of her distressed soul in which she had contained her love for her sisters floating in the air around them, the debris cutting her in the unbreakable parts of the darkness too, though the wounds were swallowed in the blackness and were left unattended, completely ignored. 

Their bond would never return, Bellatrix acknowledged as she listened to the sentence her sister muttered, the words repeating themselves in her mind. You’re not the girl who used to be my sister. She put a question mark behind it. If she wasn’t her, then who was she?

”Because I am not your sister anymore.” The words were cruel, spoken as if it disgusted her to even look at her sister’s form. Undeniably so, it did. She felt sick in her stomach, unsure on whether this was anxiousness or ferocious anger that had taken a hold of her, but deciding it was definitely the latter as she could hear herself growl, as a monstrous animal would do.

She stared at her sister, trembling with anger that she felt she could no longer hold back. ”That it, isn’t it?” She asked, mockingly, her chin held high, arrogance and anger visible in her posture. ”Don’t even deny it.”

Last class of the day over……..


Ouch, that one was a bit over the top, was it not? That was definitely worthy of some punishment, so bend over, baby. -grins, his eyes alight with mischief- Wiser, perhaps, but not smarter. There’s a definite difference. I know you crave me, it’s a simple fact of human nature. All women want the strongest, most handsome, financially stable male they can find. Lucky you, I’m at the top of all those lists. Oh no, darling, I love pain. In certain respects, that is. Not from being beaten by an abusive wife. I’m terrified to have to deal with you in the future, Black. Especially if you get worse with age. When you are an old wrinkly crone with nothing but your dashing husband left, well, I’ll be terrified for my pitiful bit of existence left. Well I bet you love my large ego now, don’t you.

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But that’s what you love about me, don’t you? [One chuckle escaped as she saw the mischief and lust that appeared to have consumed it, recognising it as her own, knowing that the same feelings would be mirrored back towards him if he were to look in her otherwise emotionless eyes. She was driven by the moment, passionate, a flame herself, hot and wanting as the fire of her anger usually was, though she had now been set aflame by lust and want. Need, almost] As you should be, Lestrange. Be afraid, be terrified, but don’t you ever dare deny me pleasure. [She breathed out hard, having to control herself, but all she could give as an answer to his last question or rather statement, was a mere and simple moan of need.]

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I wonder,


With Dumbledore regulating things as much as he is, while that may have been true when we were in fifth year, it’s not the case anymore. You know, what with all the attacks on students as of late. 


Bellatrix, she’s your cousin. A third cousin, perhaps but she’s a Black nonetheless.

*rolls her eyes before commenting drily* I have no doubt you do. 

The old fool might cause some trouble, I reckon, but nothing I cannot manage to conceal. Ah, the attacks on students, indeed. Piteous, though nothing they don’t deserve.

I’d rather ignore her existence, which let’s face it, would be much more pleasing for both of us. She might be a Black, but not with flesh and blood as I am. She’s merely been born under that name, whereas I am the name. 

Of course you wouldn’t. Watch it, pretty face. I’m coming to get you.

(Source: eldestblack)

What have these nasty creatures prepared for dinner?


Except for your parents who are forcing you to marry a man you hate. You are so right; no one but you controls your life.


Whatever you say, love. I’m not really in the mood to analyze your messed up feelings. I hear that’s more of a Muggle practice so I think I’ll pass.

Except that, that is. Nevertheless, this decision was a choice of mine too; had I not been sensible and realised that Rodolphus was one of the best candidates that would ever pass, with his appearance and his ancestors, it wouldn’t have happened.

What you describe as my messed up emotions is in fact completely fine, thank you very much. You’re just not keeping up.

What have these nasty creatures prepared for dinner?


In that case, no hearts will be broken, no lives will be ruined; aside from the lack of freedom a married couple has to deal with. You’re the one that admitted your misery to me, Bella, or as you called it, or should I say not called it, moodiness.


Whereas the obvious absence of a heart is a reason that Lestrange could not break it, I doubt I would even allow him to ruin my life. No one decides my destiny but me and therefore, he could want me dancing for him in a ballerina outfit, torture me for it and it still wouldn’t happen. No, that’d be wrong on so many levels. Moodiness does not equal misery, because one can be moody without being miserable, like I am every morning, for as I said; I am not miserable.

I wonder,


I’m not under any impression, I just thought you’d care about your gift getting taken by Slughorn but apparently I was wrong. I’m a prefect, you see. It’s my job to care about the rules. 

Not at all. I found him rather endearing when I saw him last Christmas and what of Lucretia? She’d be heartbroken or, at least, terribly discomforted. 

*lips quirking upwards slightly* And why on earth would you need that many knives? 

I have nothing to fear, especially not when it comes to Slughorn. He loves me, wants me in his collection and therefore, I doubt there’s anything he won’t do to achieve that goal.

I think you don’t understand me; I don’t care for other people. Whether she’d be cheerful or devastated because of his passing, does not concern me whatsoever.

I stab people with them, of course.

(Source: eldestblack)

Making Up. Maybe. || Bellatrix and Andromeda


Andromeda was glad for the darkness in the common room. It made it so she didn’t have to show her face to Bellatrix. Their emotions wouldn’t show up. As she curled on the couch, forcing herself to take slow and deep breaths, the girl looked up to her sister. 

Both were so emotionless and hollow, not quite knowing what to do right now. All Andy wanted was their relationship back. She just wanted their family to be together once more, but it was too much to ask for. It was a forbidden desire, as it would never happen. Dreaming and hoping only lead to disappointment. Andy had learned that after years of disappointment, but she couldn’t help but do it anyways. While Bellatrix had developed her stone heart, Andromeda stayed soft as ever, still like a child, hoping and dreaming for the best of things. 

The younger girl lifted her gaze to her older sister, watching her closely. Even with that hollow look, Bellatrix was still as beautiful as ever. Andy had always envied her two sister’s beauty. As the middle child, she was often forgotten, hidden in the shadows. Perhaps that was where she went “wrong.” Perhaps that was how she had become so different. There were times when Andromeda sometimes wondered if she even belonged to this family. She had become so different from everyone else, believing different things, acting in different mannerisms. 

"Bellatrix…" she started in a hoarse whisper. She didn’t know what she wanted to say, but she needed to say something. The silence was too much. It was like a suffocating blanket covering them, making it harder and harder to breathe. Andromeda gulped, still in complete shock. "I… I’m…" I’m what? She didn’t know what she was going to say or was supposed to say. The silence fell over them once more. 

At last, Andromeda broke the silence, quietly asking,  "What.. what happened? Between… us?" 

There was no reverberation to provide reassurance of the realness of their situation or lessen the emptiness in it, no whisper present or blessed sentence in existence that could save them from the everlasting waves of indescribable emotions that threatened to drown them or the doom that was approaching them with the speed as one would love with, but then, weren’t doom and love the same?

Bellatrix was scared, afraid for their delicate and breakable position and their sisterhood, which had been set aflame, which was proceeding to smoulder at their feet without either one of them even did as much as noticed the ashes or was smart enough to distinguish it with water. 

Her fearfulness and disappointment in them both put them in an unstable and dangerous situation. The female warrior was known for her changeable emotions, her sudden and unexpected switches in behaviour and the numerous of faces she wore, as one would wear a mask, almost as if she was protecting herself from the horrors of the outside world. If one would consider her childhood, then they’d realise that, perhaps, she was. She herself wasn’t so sure anymore.

The beautiful female with a constellation and place in certain religions in which she was described equally as enchanting stammered a few words, though apparently as dazed and uncertain as she was, silence consumed them once more, pressing down on them, suffocating them it felt. Bellatrix inhaled, only to find that this action did not really help to unlock the fingers of anxiety that had a firm grip on her stomach.

What happened between us? The seductress had no idea how to even begin answering this question due to its complexity and the air of confusion that surrounded her, but also because she quite frankly did not know. What happened between them? That was the question.

At last she gave an indifferent shrug, a simple gesture that was as worthless as the presence of their appendix. ”I grew up.” But had she, had she really? Was she not just another broken child that incapable of growing up due to the horrors of her past, did she not speak foolish child prayers and secretly long for love? No, Bellatrix decided, no she did not. She had grown up; she had learned.