The Incredibly Strange Story of a Creepy Girl in Love
Story for: peskywhistpaw
Title: The Incredibly Strange Story of a Creepy Girl in Love
Pairing: Bellatrix/Alice
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Summary: Bellatrix falls for Alice first, instead of the other way around…
Additional Notes: Warnings: Psychotic!obsessive!Bella, AU. This was written for the HP Rare Exchange as a gift for peskywhistpaw. I tried to give you at least some of what you requested! Many thanks to my beta, who wishes to remain anonymous. Don’t own these characters, not making any profit, etc. Possible Spoilers books 1-7.
That smirk is just infuriating.
After all I’ve been through, after all you’ve put me through, you have the bare-faced cheek to stand there with that stupid, self-satisfied little half smile on your face and tell me that all I had to do was ask.
Ask you for a kiss. Me, ask you! The very idea of such a thing is just absurd!
You arrogant, naïve little fool. Pure-blood you may be, but your lineage is nothing compared to mine, stupid girl. I was born into the noble and most ancient house of Black, and there are precious few out there who are good enough to call themselves our equals. You are so far beneath me that it’s not funny.
I look at myself in the mirror, and I tell myself there’s no way somebody like you is worthy of me. My hair is long and silky, and my figure is the envy of every blasted girl at Hogwarts. I walk with an elegant sway, alluring without being too obviously come-hither, and my voice is sensuous and haunting. My neck and limbs were meant for the most exquisite jewels, and when I’m out of this hideous school uniform my clothes are made from the finest of materials. I have wealth and beauty that few others could ever dream of. People pronounce my name as if invoking a goddess. Bellatrix, stellar and glittering, utterly divine.
You have a silly, ordinary childish name. Alice - it’s only fit for Muggles, honestly. You’re pasty, doughy-faced, solidly built and rather short and graceless. Your friends and family are decidedly undistinguished - at school, you’re constantly hanging around with a group of daft, giggling girls or that moronic boy with the ridiculous surname. And you’re not particularly fascinating or clever. There are so many others I could be spending time with or be thinking about. I should not even be wasting a second look or thought on you.
Then why in the name of all that’s holy can’t I get you out of my mind?
Ever since I first noticed you one autumn afternoon, your nose buried in some boring book and your hair falling in your face like a little girl’s, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I remember how the sun was glinting off your hair and making me think silly things like how you would look with a halo. I saw you as a plump little cherub on a fluffy white cloud, clutching a harp instead of your book, and singing sickly-sweet little angel songs. Bah, you see what annoying drivel comes into my head whenever I’m around you? Cherubs, when my mind should instead be full of blessed Dark magic and the pursuit of power! It’s ludicrous, having all these sentimental daydreams that are so completely unbecoming for a Black. Your lips were moving as you scanned the page, and I imagined what it would be like to make you cry out as I raked my nails down your back, and how cruelly I would laugh before I claimed your mouth in a searing kiss that would make your lips bleed.
Incredible though it was, I knew that I had to have you. To possess you utterly, make you mine. But you were oblivious to my attempts to flirt. Playing games were you, little one? I’ve heard enough rumours to know that you’re not averse to female affections, stupid boyfriend or no stupid boyfriend. I tossed and turned in my bed for several nights after that day, gnashing my teeth, unable to get your face out of my thoughts however tightly I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on something else. It was absolutely maddening, as are you.
Then I tried to send you some of my favourite chocolates from Honeydukes - and you had the gall to refuse them, saying that you were allergic to that flavour! Such a rude, ungracious brat to decline anything offered to you by your betters! You should be honoured that someone of my illustrious station in life even deigns to notice you. I was going to try sending you flowers after that, some nice big blood-red roses with deliciously spiky thorns, but you don’t deserve them, you ingrate.
But all I wanted for you to do was to notice me. To stop being so bloody self-centred and realise that the most beautiful girl in school is beside herself for your sake, you obtuse little fool!
I tried flirting with others, then, but only when you could see me. I started paying attention to the boys that inevitably are hovering around me, and who I usually pointedly ignore like the annoyances they are. You merely sighed and went about your business with your friends and your books. Then I attempted a little subtle flirtation with some of the Slytherin girls. That seemed to get something of a second glance from you, and put a tiny bit of colour in your pallid cheeks, but still you didn’t throw yourself at my feet and beg me to make you my own. How inconsiderate of you, Alice, to be so careless of my feelings!
In the end, all that was left was direct confrontation. Exactly what I’m doing right now - I managed to catch you on your own and pin you up against a wall. You whimpered and squirmed, telling me to release you right that moment or there would be trouble, but I only laughed, of course.
Now I press against you, my breath hot against your ear as I snarl at you. Demanding why you act the way you do, and why you haven’t been able to give me so much as a simple kiss?
And you stand there with that irritating smirk on your face, purring, “All you had to do was ask.”
Ask you for a kiss, foolish girl? I never ask for what I desire. I simply take it.
And take it I do. I crush my mouth against yours, biting at your lips before forcing my tongue between them. You try to struggle a bit, but all too soon you’re melting into my arms. Much better, my dear, but some day I’m going to have to hurt you very horribly for everything you’ve made me suffer…
That can wait for a while, however. Right now I’m far too busy enjoying my triumph.
Title: The Incredibly Strange Story of a Creepy Girl in Love
Pairing: Bellatrix/Alice
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Summary: Bellatrix falls for Alice first, instead of the other way around…
Additional Notes: Warnings: Psychotic!obsessive!Bella, AU. This was written for the HP Rare Exchange as a gift for peskywhistpaw. I tried to give you at least some of what you requested! Many thanks to my beta, who wishes to remain anonymous. Don’t own these characters, not making any profit, etc. Possible Spoilers books 1-7.
That smirk is just infuriating.
After all I’ve been through, after all you’ve put me through, you have the bare-faced cheek to stand there with that stupid, self-satisfied little half smile on your face and tell me that all I had to do was ask.
Ask you for a kiss. Me, ask you! The very idea of such a thing is just absurd!
You arrogant, naïve little fool. Pure-blood you may be, but your lineage is nothing compared to mine, stupid girl. I was born into the noble and most ancient house of Black, and there are precious few out there who are good enough to call themselves our equals. You are so far beneath me that it’s not funny.
I look at myself in the mirror, and I tell myself there’s no way somebody like you is worthy of me. My hair is long and silky, and my figure is the envy of every blasted girl at Hogwarts. I walk with an elegant sway, alluring without being too obviously come-hither, and my voice is sensuous and haunting. My neck and limbs were meant for the most exquisite jewels, and when I’m out of this hideous school uniform my clothes are made from the finest of materials. I have wealth and beauty that few others could ever dream of. People pronounce my name as if invoking a goddess. Bellatrix, stellar and glittering, utterly divine.
You have a silly, ordinary childish name. Alice - it’s only fit for Muggles, honestly. You’re pasty, doughy-faced, solidly built and rather short and graceless. Your friends and family are decidedly undistinguished - at school, you’re constantly hanging around with a group of daft, giggling girls or that moronic boy with the ridiculous surname. And you’re not particularly fascinating or clever. There are so many others I could be spending time with or be thinking about. I should not even be wasting a second look or thought on you.
Then why in the name of all that’s holy can’t I get you out of my mind?
Ever since I first noticed you one autumn afternoon, your nose buried in some boring book and your hair falling in your face like a little girl’s, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I remember how the sun was glinting off your hair and making me think silly things like how you would look with a halo. I saw you as a plump little cherub on a fluffy white cloud, clutching a harp instead of your book, and singing sickly-sweet little angel songs. Bah, you see what annoying drivel comes into my head whenever I’m around you? Cherubs, when my mind should instead be full of blessed Dark magic and the pursuit of power! It’s ludicrous, having all these sentimental daydreams that are so completely unbecoming for a Black. Your lips were moving as you scanned the page, and I imagined what it would be like to make you cry out as I raked my nails down your back, and how cruelly I would laugh before I claimed your mouth in a searing kiss that would make your lips bleed.
Incredible though it was, I knew that I had to have you. To possess you utterly, make you mine. But you were oblivious to my attempts to flirt. Playing games were you, little one? I’ve heard enough rumours to know that you’re not averse to female affections, stupid boyfriend or no stupid boyfriend. I tossed and turned in my bed for several nights after that day, gnashing my teeth, unable to get your face out of my thoughts however tightly I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on something else. It was absolutely maddening, as are you.
Then I tried to send you some of my favourite chocolates from Honeydukes - and you had the gall to refuse them, saying that you were allergic to that flavour! Such a rude, ungracious brat to decline anything offered to you by your betters! You should be honoured that someone of my illustrious station in life even deigns to notice you. I was going to try sending you flowers after that, some nice big blood-red roses with deliciously spiky thorns, but you don’t deserve them, you ingrate.
But all I wanted for you to do was to notice me. To stop being so bloody self-centred and realise that the most beautiful girl in school is beside herself for your sake, you obtuse little fool!
I tried flirting with others, then, but only when you could see me. I started paying attention to the boys that inevitably are hovering around me, and who I usually pointedly ignore like the annoyances they are. You merely sighed and went about your business with your friends and your books. Then I attempted a little subtle flirtation with some of the Slytherin girls. That seemed to get something of a second glance from you, and put a tiny bit of colour in your pallid cheeks, but still you didn’t throw yourself at my feet and beg me to make you my own. How inconsiderate of you, Alice, to be so careless of my feelings!
In the end, all that was left was direct confrontation. Exactly what I’m doing right now - I managed to catch you on your own and pin you up against a wall. You whimpered and squirmed, telling me to release you right that moment or there would be trouble, but I only laughed, of course.
Now I press against you, my breath hot against your ear as I snarl at you. Demanding why you act the way you do, and why you haven’t been able to give me so much as a simple kiss?
And you stand there with that irritating smirk on your face, purring, “All you had to do was ask.”
Ask you for a kiss, foolish girl? I never ask for what I desire. I simply take it.
And take it I do. I crush my mouth against yours, biting at your lips before forcing my tongue between them. You try to struggle a bit, but all too soon you’re melting into my arms. Much better, my dear, but some day I’m going to have to hurt you very horribly for everything you’ve made me suffer…
That can wait for a while, however. Right now I’m far too busy enjoying my triumph.