she has cast a spell of smoldering darkness over the store, rolling off the walls like a thick smoke. that lovely feeling of dread, disease and death hangs in the air, as heavy and penetrating as ever. it follows her around like a second skin, like a perfume that she can’t quite shake. nor does she want to. “ i thought i made it quite clear that i wanted this place empty, tonight, “ she says after a while. fingers trace a skull that lays on display, mindlessly, barely noticing how a curse buzzes beneath her finger tips, threatening to break free. “ my family is quite patient with the way this place is being run, but everyone has a limit, “ she adds, a threat much more severe than that of a cursed skull lingering in her voice. the shopkeep disappears before she decides to act on it, and her attention diverts to AUGUSTUS. a slight smile appears on her hips, and her stance softens ever so slightly. shoulders hunch downwards, and her wand is slipped back into the sleeve of her robe. the darkness still doesn’t fade. “ you should know better than to follow me, rookwood. “ there’s a pause. smoke continues to roll across the floors of borgin & burkes, making it very hard to see much of... anything. but some errands are worth the precaution ( and some people are just that dramatic, too ). “ or are we calling this a merry twist of fate? a happy coincidence? “ she continues, feet crossing in front of her. her eyes sparkle in the dark, some form of twisted amusement lingering far below the usual clouded darkness. “ men like you usually don’t walk into places like this. “ or, they do. but like her, she assumes that he’s smart enough to do it when no one’s looking.
to say that eloise greengrass was out of her element would be a bit of an understatement. here she was, beginning her first real job ( working for the family business doesn’t count ) and it happens to be for one of the most powerful people in the ministry. she’s not SCARED, only intimidated by the woman towering above her, but she doesn’t crack. yet she can’t ignore the unmistakable feeling that bellatrix can see right through her facade, can detect even the slightest bit of discomfort, even if its buried deep beneath the surface. the thought alone was terrifying, but she perseveres, swallowing the regret that had already begun to seep in. “i can be discreet.” she assures her boss, rose colored lips pressed together as her hands fold in her lap. she was good at taking orders ( she had learned from the best after all ) and there was nothing she wanted to do more than impress her boss, if that was even possible. “what do you need me to do, mrs. lestrange ?”
" so if i told you, “ she begins, her voice like warm honey, soft and thick and dangerously sweet. her head cocks to the side, ever so slightly, and her eyes narrow. there is a hint of amusement hiding in their depths, buried far below, yet causing ripples in an otherwise calm gaze. “ .... that i am having an affair, and hiding it from my husband, i shouldn’t expect to read it in the tabloids tomorrow? “ she says, and the softness in her voice gains an edge, becomes a little sharper. “i need someone that i can trust.” her mind reaches out on instinct ----- the legilimens in her never fully resting, never fully retracting its claws. she can’t help herself, it’s second nature to invade, to destroy, to distract. every mind is her playground, her toy - a thing for her to break... or make. “miss greengrass, do you happen to know how to cast an unbreakable vow? “
a thick silence hangs over the ministry bathroom. it’s the kind that leaves you out of breath, out of depth ---- somehow suffocating you from within. but bellatrix pretends not to notice, instead focusing on her reflection in the mirror, a bony finger carefully adjusting her lipstick, making sure that she at least looks the part that she is supposed to play. the part that she has come to hate. “ it’s a shame, don’t you think? “ she says, and her words sound far more thoughtful than they are. there are few things she still care about, these days ---- this persona she has adopted is far down on the list --- and one she is very much ready to drop. and then again - her mask is slipping. slowly, but surely. “ washing our streets in pure blood? what a waste. “ it’s almost as if it isn’t her own cousin that she’s speaking of. so very detached, so very reckless. where is that heartache now, that started all this? for family? for legacy? for bloodlines? how far has she fallen? “ shameful how the order has become so utterly evil, isn’t it? to murder an innocent boy in cold blood... makes you think twice about who you’re supporting. “
sharp fingernails tap against her desk, and her lips pull into a half smile, exposing a row of teeth that are almost too white to look quite real. the soft january sun slices through the large window ( because of course, bellatrix lestrange’s office is nothing short of fucking extraordinary ), and bathes them in warmth. it’s a sharp contrast to the chilliness in her gaze. “ i should hope so. you’ll have to be, “ she says, cold authority pouring into her voice, sending slivers of ice coursing through the air. she doesn’t break eye contact with the young girl as she leans forward, and the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. she feeds off it - bathes in the way she can bend, break, shape the greengrass girl to her will. perhaps that’s what draws bellatrix to her ---- but her name and legacy alone are enough to make her... weak. “ --- i need someone. tonight. “ she finally says. there’s a long pause. a clawlike hand is placed underneath her chin, an elbow rested against her desk. “ it’s a private matter. not... ministry related. you will have to be discreet. "
@sheweapon // bellatrix lestrange sent a prompt: “ you need to bleed. a lot. ”
one, two, three… his eyes closed for just one heartbeat before he got up, wand blasting in all directions, a loud ring on the side of his head - he believed he hit some of his targets before ducking under the next table. his left hand touched his ear and came back painted crimson, making the auror exhale sharply, but he couldn’t think of what it could possibly mean right there and then. alastor looked at the marble column where he could try to protect himself next, but a glaring problem was there. an auror, her back against the stone, her body lifeless. you need to bleed. the words echoed through the destroyed ballroom like the voice of a nightmare, following every and each one of them.
one, two, three. he had to get up again, before they blew up the table and him with it. his patronus asking amelia for backup was long gone but no one had arrived yet and he could sense the clock ticking for him, the people in masks and black robes taking the roles of the reapers. one, two, three. me or them. one, two, three. “ AVADA KEDAVRA, ” his voice, louder than in any other spells before, rang through the room like a lighthouse, with him as the epicenter, the ultimate target. he didn’t use it often, or lightly, but when he did it the light was near blinding and his voice near a roar. alastor did not kill with ease, but when he tried to, he did it with full conviction.
she can hear her blood pumping, rage and chaos boiling beneath her skin, making her see red. the scene unfolds before her eyes, and she watches it with the interest of a cat toying with its prey, ready to pounce. knuckles whiten as fingers harden around her wand, carelessly dodging another curse with a snap of her wrist. her entire body aches ---- but she can barely feel it. she doesn’t feel anything, anymore. but remnants of battles won - and battles lost, are making themselves known across her skin. she’s stained a dark plum, damson colored marks spreading across her shoulders, her back, her neck. constellations of stars in lilac and yellow and blue are painted upon aching limbs, and tomorrow, they’ll be a reminder of what she’s fighting for. that she is right.
“ you’re gonna have to try harder than that, alastor !! “ she shouts, and the anger that hides underneath all those layers of attempted perfection spills through, making her words practically electrified with hatred. she sends a curse shooting through the skies, and she sees that lovely shade of red flying through the air as she hits her mark. later, she’ll find it funny how they all bleed the same. pure blood. spoiled blood. still that beautiful shade of red that she adores.
she ducks behind a pillar, rolls out of the way of another blow. not quite quick enough, this time. a sharp pain presses her to the floor, an animal like shriek echoing across the ball room. it sounds like the agonizing scream of someone who is half wolf, half girl, but to bellatrix, it’s still just pain - temporary, fleeting, absolutely lovely.
“ so you want to dance? “ she manages to get out. stands up, on legs that aren’t quite as steady as they used to be. it’s pure instinct that allows her to dodge the bolt of green lightning that comes her way ------ or sheer luck. maybe a bit of both. she doesn’t notice how her nose is spilling blood, scarlet trickling down her lips, her neck. but she does notice that she’s shaking, so she steadies herself, stubbornness and immense willpower the only things keeping her on her feet.
a bolt of light flies through the air, aimed directly for his chest. she doesn’t even say the words anymore ---- CRUCIO is ingrained so deeply within her that the two of them have become one. as she approaches him, her eyes spitting fire, she lets out a soft cooing sound. “ the killing curse, alastor? “ she whispers. lips tug into a smile behind a mask sticky with sweat. “ how many people have fallen to your sword? “ there’s a slight pause, and head tilts to the side, genuine curiosity igniting in an otherwise hollow gaze. always so dramatic, so theatrical. “ did you enjoy it? watching the light drain from their eyes? “
( 📺 for me to use a line from the last TV show I watched as a starter ----- from new amsterdam ) ---- @marvmacdonald
“ if the system can’t handle the little things, then it certainly won’t notice the big ones, “ she says, a smile tingeing her words, making them sound softer. as if she’s speaking to a puppy ---- a sweet thing, below her. to bellatrix, that is what the young aurors are. small and sweet and funny - for a while. but all toys must be put down, eventually. but not quite yet. “ or do you think the auror department is being run efficiently? “ she asks, surprise spilling from her voice, an eyebrow quirking in query. the smile never disappears from her lips. “ under a bones ? “
🎬 for me to use a line from the last movie I watched as a starter
📹 for me to use a line from my favorite movie as a starter
📚 for me to grab the book nearest to me, flip to a random page, and use the first line of dialogue I see as a starter
🎧 for me to shuffle my playlist and use the first line of the next song as a starter
🎶 for me to use my favorite line of the last song I listened to as a starter
📺 for me to use a line from the last TV show I watched as a starter
💻 for me to use a line from my favorite TV show as a starter
🎵for me to shuffle my playlist and use my favorite line of the next song as a starter
💋 for a shippy starter
😡 for an angsty starter
👊 for an argument/fight starter
🌈 for a random encounter starter
💀 for a dark starter
🍬 for a fluffy starter
“Hecate was the goddess of the Dark of the Moon, the black nights when the moon was hidden. She was associated with deeds of darkness, the Goddess of the Crossways, which were held to be ghostly places of evil magic” - Edith Hamilton’s Mythology.
bellatrix hecate lestrange.
thirty four. head of the
department of magical
accidents and catastrophes.
+ daring, passionate, ambitious, clever.
- sadistic, two faced, cruel, unstable.
death eater.
PINTEREST BOARD: (x)
PLAYLISTS: (x) (x) (x)
QUICK STATS:
name: bellatrix hecate lestrange
occupation: head of the department of magical accidents and catastrophes.
former house: slytherin.
date of birth: december 23.
age: 34.
BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS:
So. It’s a cold December night, right before Christmas, and the Black mansion is shaken by blood curdling screams. It’s the kind that leaves you breathless, shivers running down your spine, leaving you with the sense that something is very, very wrong. Which, Druella Black fears that it very well might be —- because her (expected) son is four weeks early.
The birth is excruciatingly long and difficult for poor, poor Druella, but when the clock strikes eleven on the night before Christmas, a girl comes crashing into the world. She’s not what they expect, nor what they want, and she never cries — instead, she just watches them with those big black eyes that always seem to be appraising something.
-
Though Bellatrix’s birth was mostly an unwelcome surprise ( she came too early, and it was no secret that her parents had hoped for a boy ), she was also the first child to carry on the Black legacy, which was an honor. A necessity.
As a baby, she was small and meager. Nurses whispered about the Black baby that could barely muster a scream, that seemed so frail. Like she might break at any second. But that memory would soon fade and be replaced by a much more unpleasant one - because Bellatrix’s bones hardened, her skin thickened, her eyes grew meaner. Within a few years, any trace of that soft baby was gone, and instead, a cruel toddler took her place.
As a child, Bella was vicious. Biting, clawing, screaming and cursing were things she picked up fast, and she’d terrorize the other kids at the playground ( with an almost scary aim for her muggle born / half blood peers ).
Once she reached the age of seven, she calmed down a bit, and instead started following her father around ( and was lovingly referred to as his ‘little shadow’ ). Eager to prove herself, she learned everything that a son of Cygnus would have learnt. She was determined to show her father that being a girl would not stop her from becoming worthy of the Black throne, to carry his name with pride. Over the years of her childhood and adolescence, Bellatrix forged herself into the golden girl, a respectable heir in the making. Desperate to wear the crown.
Under her father’s influence, uncontrollable rage was switched in for an eerie quietness, anger instead boiling right below the surface, just waiting to be unleashed. She was so eager to please, to sculpt herself into whatever he wanted, so she suppressed her emotions the best she could, even though it never felt natural. And so, the nurses whispered again, but this time, it was about her sweet, sweet smile, matched with those mean, mean eyes. ‘Doesn’t it look distorted? Like that damn Cheshire cat. Something’s not right about that girl, I’m telling you. She came out wrong’.
Behind closed doors, Cygnus also encouraged Bella’s darker side. Introduced her to the dark arts and the chaos that she would later come to love so desperately.
Most of her childhood was characterized by harsh words, strict rules and high expectations. Her family’s reputation weighed heavy on her shoulders, constantly pressuring her to excel. Luckily, she shared her parents’ ambition and values, and had no problems conforming to their rule. Which also meant that she could get away with much else. As long as she remained the golden girl, Bellatrix could run wild and free.
HOGWARTS YEARS:
Bellatrix had been duly prepped before arriving at Hogwarts. She was the first of their children to walk the halls, so it was important to both Druella and Cygnus that Bellatrix knew how to behave. Who to fraternize with. Who to avoid. Who was worthy of her time. Her parents had also made sure that she already had the appropriate friends — and play dates with other pureblood kids were a common occurrence when Bellatrix was younger.
At school, Bellatrix was popular —- the resident cool girl. The type of girl that hardly ever objects to anything, because she is always down to have a good time. The type of girl that loves Quidditch, dirty jokes and cheap beer. The type of girl that hides her true colors, at least for a while. Until she explodes.
So Bella kept out of trouble, for the most part. There were a couple…. incidents, with muggleborns. One or two may have been turned into rats and toads ( under the guise of it being a joke — can’t you take a joke, come on now? ). More serious things have been strictly forgotten by everyone involved. Powerful parents will do the trick. Mostly though, Bellatrix kept to her fellow Slytherins… biding her time. Waiting to strike.
She played for the Slytherin Quidditch team, as a beater, and was eventually made captain ( nothing less for a child of Cygnus, she must excel ). During her time on the team, she was notorious for her cruel playing style, her foul tricks, the constant smirk on her lips as other players fell to the ground.
And during her sixth year, she was eventually recruited into the Death Eaters. And with them, she found a second home, quickly rising through the ranks.
AFTER HOGWARTS:
After graduating from Hogwarts, Bellatrix took a year off from her studies. The official reason was that she needed to “find herself”. Whatever the fuck that meant. Obviously, it was a lie to hide what she was really up to. In reality, Bellatrix was at Voldemort’s side, learning leglilimency and occlumency, all the while developing her dark magic and her shitty personality.
Quickly became Voldemort’s personal attack dog, always willing to do his bidding, no questions asked.
At the age of nineteen, Bellatrix found work as an obliviator. Though the choice had ultimately been hers to make, the dark lord was always whispering in her ear, encouraging her to infiltrate the ministry. The goal was to have sleeper agents of death eaters in every department once it was time to go to war. It also helped that becoming an oblivator just made sense — fucking with the minds of muggles could already be counted as a hobby (albeit a twisted one), and she had always been good at taking things that didn’t belong to her… Memories would be no different.
Became a senior obliviator at twenty five, which was early, but still not early enough for her, you feel.
And so, at the age of thirty two, Bellatrix came to find herself as the head of the department of magical accidents and catastrophes. There, she got another taste of the power that drives her, that maddens her.
She is genuinely good at her job - even though she’s totally corrupt and obviously does most things in the interest of the death eaters.
Will occasionally throw pureblood galas, but isn’t too invested in them. They’re just for show.
Among the Death Eaters, Bellatrix is in the inner circle. She considers herself the dark lord’s right hand, and prides herself on being his most loyal servant.
Bellatrix also has a pet snake, lovingly named Medusa. We love her.
PERSONALITY:
First of all - Bellatrix is a fucking shit show and we all know this.
She is like night and day —– and her temper switches incredibly quickly, which makes her unpredictable, a little scary. She can go from the girl her family forced her to be - the Socialite, the Sophisticated Woman, the Cool Girl, to something far more sinister in the matter of minutes. Sometimes less.
When she’s at her worst, Bellatrix is cruel, sadistic, self righteous, impulsive, angry as hell, deranged, unstable, manipulative, a little bit unhinged, ruthless, playful, childish and absolutely lethal. It’s always brewing right below, so close to the surface, just waiting to come out.
But she’s also calculating, clever, quick on her feet, intensely passionate, fiercely loyal (until she’s… not), adaptable, intuitive and assertive.
Bella often contradicts herself — she has grown up believing that it’s best to be cold and devoid of emotions (#thanks dad), but she’s a highly emotional person by nature. She tries to suppress that as best as she can, but she usually boils over pretty fast. Other emotions are usually translated into anger as well, so that’s fun. I think the best way to describe her is that she’s just fire, always burning hot or cold.
Voldemort’s influence on her is also really important!! His influence poisons her mind, her soul, her heart. The darkness that was already there is amplified, becomes a thousand times worse. Though already a skilled witch, he introduced her to magic she could only have dreamed of — and that power became corruptive, addictive. For power, Bella would gladly pay the steep price of sacrificing her soul, her humanity.
Bellatrix really does think that she is in the right.
Also probably thinks that she’s better than everyone else at all times. There’s definitively an air of arrogance surrounding her.
Mrs Lestrange thinks that she’s invincible, and likes walking a little too close to the cliff’s edge ( playing with fire ). Will occasionally drop hints that she COULD be a death eater, but never goes too far with it. And if someone suggests that she is one, she acts like that’s absolutely outrageous. How dare you imply that I am affiliated with anything… !
Okay so, I am convinced that Bellatrix doesn’t reach peak evil + instability until after Voldemort’s fall and Azkaban, so I’m really trying to tone her down a bit and give the influence of her upbringing ( + her nature ) a bigger role in the person that she becomes. Hence why she is a little better at hiding her true colors, a little more refined. : ~ ) Though, she’s still the hammer ( doesn’t have the most finesse, mostly just likes getting things done, her technique isn’t exactly intricate, but ALWAYS effective ).
Even if most people probably don’t know that she’s a death eater ( though some probably suspect lbr ), she has a very intimidating presence. That’s her brand. And she still has that Weird Aura about her, like there is something that isn’t quite right, so that could also weird people out.
STYLE / FASHION / APPEARANCE:
Bellatrix has jet black eyes and the hair to match. It falls in soft curls over her shoulders, down her back.
Usually wears dark red lipstick.
She hides her dark mark with a concealment spell while out in public.
Dresses mostly in black. Has to wear clothes that can fit into the muggle world while at work, occasionally, while out and about. While there, she wears a well worn leather jacket ( with shoulder pads, in true 70s style, we love a style icon ), and wide, black pants.
Files her nails into long claws, and paints them black.
Is tall. Likes towering over people.
Her cheekbones could cut a bitch.
AESTHETICS / VIBES:
black dresses, whispered hexes, broken champagne glasses, the calm before the storm, bullets caught between teeth, a constant paradox, skin stained black and blue, a devilish grin, ‘is that wine or blood on your carpet?’, snakes wrapped around wrists, mean eyes, always running hot and cold, a cheshire cat’s smile, soft laughter as the light leaves your eyes, divine violence, a taste of the approaching revolution / the new world order, quiet desperation, family heirlooms, unwavering loyalty, sudden fits of rage, emerald lockets, double lives, ‘would you still like me with my hands around your neck?’, no conscience, silent promises, taunting you with her very last breath, the hardest of hearts, dried blood on expensive clothes and a quiet conviction that this will all make sense in the end.
CHARACTER INFLUENCES:
amy dunne ( gone girl )
jamie moriarty ( elementary )
glory / glorificus ( btvs )
villanelle ( killing eve )
jennifer blake ( teen wolf )
klaus mikaelson ( tvd )
kilgrave ( jessica jones )
lilith ( supernatural )
drusilla ( btvs )
helena ( orphan black )
faith lehane ( btvs )
mazikeen ( lucifer )
FAVORITE CHARACTER TROPES:
SLASHER SMILE - a smile in anticipation of pain or death // a cheshire cat grin.
THE DRAGON - a monster the hero has to get past to get at the big bad. the top enforcer.
TORTURE TECHNICIAN - takes the heroes and turn them into screaming, shinned shambles.
LADY MACBETH - frequently more crazy than her husband, quite the sociopath, in the business of turning men towards evil.
EVIL WEARS BLACK - duh.
DISSONANT SERENITY - someone smiling gently in the middle of death and carnage, seeming almost enlightened as they slit throats left and right.
THE BERSERKER - throws herself into battle with such reckless abandon, that it seems like she wants to die. never, ever retreats.
THE BARONESS - a female baddie with a chilly disposition and more than a touch of the dominatrix about her.
WICKED CULTURED - evil is intellectual // basically an evil aristocrat.
THE CHESSMASTER - thinking three moves ahead at all times. manipulating, planning, plotting.
DADDY’S LITTLE VILLAIN - shares dark father’s ambitions.
BERSERK BUTTON - always ready to fucking snap.
SOFT SPOKEN SADIST - occasionally. a monster who might describe just how horribly she’s going to mangle you, while speaking in a voice that’s anything but monstrous.
DARK ACTION GIRL - likes beating the hero to a bloody pulp. good at it too.
AMBITION IS EVIL - has grand plans. ends justify the means, always.
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