#thread;regulus

[rxxlestrange]

Starter for: @pxint-it-blxck At: Regulus's house, Godric's Hollow

It wasn't every day that the dead returned to life. Some might view such an anomaly as miraculous. But Rabastan would have preferred this corpse remained buried in the ground with the rest of the worms. He'd once valued Regulus, pitied him almost, after the unfortunate departures of his cousin and his brother from the House of Black. He had even seen Regulus's potential and had taken the time to instruct him. It was an unusually generous act, and not one that he particularly enjoyed. But Rabastan was devoted to the cause; the Dark Lord had commanded it and Rabastan had obeyed.

So Regulus's betrayal had a personal flavour. It stuck in his throat, sour and distasteful, along with the fact that Regulus had been instrumental in ending the war. Rabastan did not forgive easily. Vengeance against one's enemies was a natural justice, a consequence of their committed acts. Therefore it was inevitable that he would seek Regulus and hold him accountable. It was correct that Regulus should pay for his treachery.

Finding him was not difficult. Currently, Rabastan waited, seated comfortably in the dark of Regulus's home, a glass of half-drunk whisky balanced casually in his grip. Growing shadows filled the room, a streak of moonlight casting a pale glow across the floor. Somewhere in the house, a clock ticked. Outside was nothing but the sound of whistling wind, persistently permeating the silence. When Regulus finally appeared, Rabastan remained where he was. There was nothing aggressive in his demeanour; only calm anticipation.

"Hello, Regulus," he said, as though it were just another night - as though it was not unusual to find him alive, one year after his funeral. "You look remarkably well. I must say, it was easy to break the security on this house." A pause. The tone shifted, his voice cooling, words sharp. "I'd taught you better than that."

[r-lestrcnge]

Rabastan did not use pain or violence to teach others. There was very little point to it, unless to counter poor behaviour through a justified punishment. True progress required a clear and sharp mind. It was impossible when clouded by torture. Despite their similarities, this was a difference in their upbringings. Rabastan's father was never kind and didn't hesitate from using savage curses. But he was also absent and ignored his youngest son until his teenage years, when he decided that giving two sons to the Dark Lord might not be the worst of ideas. Even then, Rabastan could not claim undue treatment. Any discipline had been deserved, and any lesson had been worth learning.

Watching the wand disappear into Regulus's pocket, he felt a dull discomfort but thought it would be far better to do nothing about it. So he didn't. Bliss settled into his bones, all worries and concerns temporarily washed away by this fictitious serenity. It was truly a welcome reprieve from his ordinarily abundant thoughts, though he would never admit to finding his usual activities a challenge. He was hard-working and determined. Weakness was not a trait he would ever indulge. But in this state, he found a happy relief and it seemed to him that losing a ring was a very small detail that he didn't care for very much.

So he removed it and handed it over, far more easily than he had relinquished his wand. It was not so precious to him, after all. He had many rings and would gladly gift this one to Regulus.

Regulus wondered whether Rabastan being able to cast off the curse so easily was due to the advance warning that he'd had of the casting, or whether it was his own weakness. He didn't want to be weak. Regulus ached to be strong, to be the man his father demanded he be. His father had tried to carve him into that with blood and violence, demanding obedience and respect rather than earning it. At least there was trust between himself and Rabastan, and that his poor attempt at the imperius curse hadn't been retaliated with the cruciatus immediately.

He saw a brief flicker of something that might be pride in Rab's eyes before it was replaced with the soothing calm of the imperius curse. He stepped closer to his mentor and held his hand out to receive Rabastan's wand, hissing ever so slightly at the sparks that fell onto his skin, but he did not waver in his concentration on the task at hand. He wanted Rabastan's wand to be surrendered, and he would bend Rabastan's will to meet his own.

Pocketing his mentor's wand out of reach, Regulus was struck by the feeling of true power that it offered. In normal circumstances, he knew that Rabastan would never surrender his wand to anyone - so that Regulus had been able to take it from him was testament to the strength of his curse. He could make Rabastan do anything right now, and he knew it. "Your signet ring. Give me your signet ring.” Anything that made the man a Lestrange.

[mando-of-esverr]

Bacta & Hitchhikers || Hoovedrycal

[r-lestrxnge]

It was a great pity that Rabastan was not accompanied by Bellatrix, today. Surely the dark witch would have loved to find her cousin here, so brazenly out in the open while her husband rotted in Azkaban. Rabastan's loathing was comparable, if perhaps not quite as volatile. He was hardly going to torture him with so many witnesses in view, and fortunately for Regulus, Rabastan's sense of familial loyalty trumped his natural inclinations; no matter how greatly he wanted Regulus to pay for his part in the Dark Lord's downfall, he would not steal that pleasure from Bellatrix. Regulus was hers to suffer.

Done with the Quidditch analogies, he disregarded the talk about Canadians and quaffles and swept directly to the point. "I would not permit you to do anything for me, Regulus. You have proven yourself exceptionally untrustworthy." The words snapping with easy contempt, he did not heed the crowds that had resumed circling around them. So many people, continuing their lives as though nothing had happened - as though a war had not just passed, as though they deserved the freedom to treasure this world. He could not care less if they heard his words. They were so engrossed in their futile existences, he doubted they were listening. "I wanted to congratulate you on remaining alive until now. Quite the success, I must say. But don't think you're free. Sins such as yours cannot go unpunished." His eyes raked Regulus's, deep with pervading intensity. Truly, he did not understand this younger man who could have had so much, but discarded it so recklessly. "The loss of the Dark Lord is still felt by many."

Without looking over his shoulder, Regulus knew he was right. Somebody was following him, and it felt as though they were getting closer with each step. He tried to pick up his speed, but there were people all around going in every direction, it was nearly impossible to move any faster than he already was without forming some sort of crowd surge. It wasn't as if it mattered, though, he realized whoever was pursuing him was using magic to clear the way, he could hear the confusion from people behind him as they were forced out of the way.

He slowed his pace when he heard the familiar voice of Rabastan Lestrange. Better him than Bellatrix, he supposed. Rabastan may go out of his way to call out Regulus, or even cause him harm, but Bellatrix would surely torture him. "Rabastan." He replied, trying to keep his tone even and equally as sharp. He didn't want to show any more signs of weakness, having already been caught trying to run away. "You don't think that the Canadians wouldn't have more fun punching quaffles?" He asked with a cocked brow, finally turning his head to see the expression on Rabastan's expression. He was pissed, that much was obvious, but why did he care so much? "What can I do for you, Rabastan? Since you've gone out of your way to catch up with me, surely there must be a good reason for it."

[sonchiildren]

@regulus-regent con’t {☆}

"Oh, not much."

Oh ho ho ho, he could tell his father was tense now. Did he REALLY think that glare was going to work? It rarely ever stopped the youngster in his path — only ever in serious circumstances did it. This was not going to be one of those.

His own tail swishing away at the end, an easy indication about his mood. He was about to be an absolute menace to his father right now and tease him. Did he really think he'd escape this? Oh, not by a long shot but the attempt was valiant.

"Juuuuuust — "

" — was curious since you two seem to be getting close enough to start thinking of smooching it up~"

[reesespenisbutercups]

lord i hate tiktok marauders fans learn what fandom is pleeeaaase😭😭😭😭

[thefvrious]

@atrickrtreat sent 🎲 and got -> a tentative kiss.

It had been a few days since he had seen her last, and they hadn't left things on the greatest terms. They were having trouble seeing eye-to-eye, but Regulus hoped beyond hope that they would be able to resolve this rift that was growing between them. That's why he was hesitant before leaning in to kiss her in greeting. "Are we okay?"

[r-lestrcnge]

Had Regulus wished to speak further about his family, Rabastan would have listened with more than uninterested patience. Though he ultimately did not care for other people's affairs, he could relate to Regulus. He was the youngest son. There was a burden upon him, a weight to fill the void left by Sirius. Rabastan did not endure quite the same situation, but his life had been one of second best. This did not trouble him. He had accepted it willingly, understanding his place within the family dynamic and not seeking to break from it. But he knew the challenge of meeting a father's high expectations, and of failing them repeatedly. It was only after he had joined the Death Eaters and had risen steadily through the ranks, that his father had started to see his worth.

"Touché," he agreed, his seriousness breaking into an amused laugh. "I should have done it earlier. It was foolish to rely on healers, alone." He did not recall any such room at Lestrange Manor. But he supposed his parents must have kept potions somewhere. He thought to ask them the next time they met. "Then let us meet this weekend. You may come to my place on Saturday. Do give Estelle my well-wishes, won't you?" She was a charming witch. Rabastan enjoyed her company, his admiration towards her seeming to grow each time they encountered each other. Regulus was fortunate to have her as a friend.

Regulus gave a short laugh in response to the, honestly true statement from Rabastan. Severus would lose his mind "Yeah, cause nothing says high and mighty station like a potioneer," Regulus scoffed, clearly sounding disapproving of the career in general. Big talk from someones who's only job was a wizagmot seat holder. He's glad the topic gets dropped, really. Family was a touchy subject for Regulus in general. His parents even moreso, and between them both, his dad was the worst. Regulus had tried his whole life to amount to something- someone his father would be proud of, the last thing he wanted to do was talk about how Orion was now getting sick and still nothing Regulus did seemed to be good enough. "If anything I'd say you're kind of stupid for not having done it sooner. Grimmauld Place has always had a room dedicated to potions, granted, most of them were potions of the...offensive type, but they were potions, nonetheless." He states with a small laugh, remembering a time as a child where Regulus had been fascinated with a shimmering green potion in said room, only to drop it all over his foot effectively burning through his shoes and leaving behind a scar that was, honestly quite brutal. Grimmauld place never was child proof. "This week? Uh..." He trailed off thinking "I'm supposed to be meeting with 'Stel on Friday, but otherwise nothing official."

[warfollows]

WHO: Bellatrix Lestrange & Regulus Black ( @inferidrowned ) WHERE: Grimmuald Place WHEN: Afternoon

The family expectations had always included keeping eyes on the younger kids, and even now, with them grown enough to keep themselves in order -- she couldn't turn it off. Did that mean she had to drop in on them without warning? Probably not... but was that going to stop her? Absolutely not. She'd show up as much as she needed to if he didn't fancy leaving his metaphorical four walls.

The pop of apparition echoed around the home, and if she had to gamble, he knew she was there, but she didn't set out looking for him. Instead, she moves with her arms full of bags into the dining area. She begins unpacking the chaos, unsure of what exactly she's got packed away. "Oi, Reg. I've come to bring you all the good snacks that the house elves made. Get your arse down here."

[xbellaxlestrangex]

where: firefly festival (shadows of one of the tents) who: @rblcck

Bellatrix was enjoying her drink in hand in the peace of the shadows, observing those amongst the crowd, devious thoughts bombarding her mind on how to end all their miserable lives; how dare the halfbloods and muggleborns interact with them. Taking a small sip, she sighs, turning her head to the other tent, looking into the shadows.

"Are you going to continue to stand there like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, Regulus?" She could sense him, and the disgust was evident in her tone with his traitorous ways.

[battle-scvrs]

Regulus rarely escaped the ministry on his lunch break, instead choosing to eat lunch at his desk so he could return to his work quickly. However, today had been difficult and so Regulus had made an escape into the fresh air that Diagon Alley afforded. The bustling crowds down the street weren't enough to put Regulus off buying a sugar quill from the sweet shop, a childhood favourite that still satisfied his sweet tooth more than anything else. He was chewing slowly on the quill and meandering towards Flourish and Blotts, quite content to spend the rest of his lunch break amongst the towering shelves until he found something new to take home and read. Feeling quite at peace, Regulus found himself wondering why he didn't pop out more regularly...until his eyes unwittingly fell upon his cousin, and his niece. Stopping dead in his tracks, Regulus couldn't drag his eyes away from the small toddler clinging to Andromeda's side. He should turn and go, should make known his disgust, he should curse them for being blood traitors....and yet he did nothing. "Andromeda," he said almost involuntarily, his voice so small and quiet that she may not have heard it at all. @tonksxandromeda

[r-lestrxnge]

Rabastan listened to Regulus attentively, doing his utmost to reserve judgement until the end of the tale. The problem was that his opinions were so starkly engrained, it would not have mattered what the younger man had said; he would still have considered him poorly. But he was interested in the story's facts. He wanted to know as much as possible about the Dark Lord's downfall. For the most part, Regulus held Rabastan's notice, his eyes scrutinising with cold calculation while he focussed on the details. It was not until the end - with the use of that abhorrent, discarded name - that he stirred.

"You dare to use that name in front of me?"

Everything else paled in comparison. He had not come so close to wounding one of their group until this moment. His expression was more than insulted and far more than angry, the loathing and outrage that consumed him threatening to spill from his tongue in curses of devilish intensity. Temptation laced his features, twisting them away from calm and towards a searing lust for violence. He would have given his soul to hear the boy's tortured screams at that very moment. It would have been no less than he deserved. If looks could kill, Regulus Black would have died tenfold.

"Show some respect. He was the greatest wizard of our time. He would have changed our world. And you-" Abandoning his drink, he studied Regulus with unwavering scorn. "You robbed us of that, for the sake of an elf who had survived and returned to you, anyway. For what benefit, Regulus? Do things seem happier to you, now? I hope you enjoyed pretending to be dead, for I highly doubt you will remain alive for much longer."

"Well, it's not quite that simple." Regulus replied to Rabastan's questioning. He knew it sounded ridiculous, a teenager and his house elf being the ones to bring down the darkest wizard known to wizard kind, but that was the truth. "See, it was requested of me to hand over Kreacher for a job, and of course I did as I was asked," He began to explain, almost laughing at how absolutely insane it sounded. There was no way Rabastan was going to truly believe him, no matter how true it was. "He was taken to assist in hiding a Horcrux. Not that I was aware of it at the time, but Kreacher was forced to drink a potion that nearly killed him and… Well, if House Elves didn't have their own special kind of magic that allowed him to apparate out of places regular wixen can't, then he would have died."

"Kreacher returned, I helped nurse him back to health, and he told me everything. And then the two of us came up with a plan." Regulus paused, chuckling softly again before biting down on his bottom lip. Kreacher truly was the only member of his family that he was willing to sacrifice himself for. They had an unbreakable bond, there really was no one else he'd have done that for. "Knowing how he treated Kreacher, after I'd been so loyal, after doing everything for him and for his cause…" He trailed off, head shaking, suddenly starting to feel as angry as he had that night.

"I guess, he'd shown my elf what to do, who then showed me. It was a lapse of judgement on Tom's part."

[nxcturnals]

open to — anyone & everyone

he liked the ministry hotel more than he really should have. it's ornate edges and the aura of the place, all pomp and circumstances. it was the beating heart of their world, at least in London, the place where the rules and regulations of the Sacred Twenty-Eight culmunated in their power. Regulus liked the order of the place, the way that everything was perfectly aligned and perfectly organised behind the artful decor and the neutral-faced staff.

it should have been sad that they all had to gather there for this — but Regulus couldn't actually bring himself to be sad for an old man that was practically ancient. all that Flamel ever did was flood the streets with liquid euphoria, and Regulus had never even let himself try it out of fear that he would love it too much. he didn't much care that Flamel had died, and he cared even less if someone had decided to kill him. at least a good old fashioned murder might inject some excitement into his life.

he considered the memorial a waste of time, but the Black Family always had to put their best foot forward: so of course, Regulus is there. perfectly dressed, face perfectly schooled. "well, he had a good life." Regulus muses, voice a little dull in a way that betrays his boredom.

[deaith]

typically, the feeding process for gyryth is extremely painful for their quarry. the only instance in which it does not hurt - or does not hurt as much - is one where the gyryth is feeding meticulously, deliberately only taking a portion rather than goring the magic from a willing individual. additionally, the harder one clings to and fights to keep their magic and blood, the more unpleasant the overall feeding is going to be.

[fcrox]

who: @thelionshrt where: malfoy wedding, royal botanic garden when: after the ceremony

The ceremony had been beautiful. Honestly, it was everything she had ever envisioned an event like this could have been. Every now and then throughout the whole thing she'd glanced toward Regulus, curious to see his reaction yet been unable to make out much. If there was one thing that could be said, it was that the guest list was length and the witch not seated too far in the front to make out much beyond what was important. Still, it had been stunning.

Before long the event had ended, moving on into the reception afterwards. Perhaps the better part of the two, simply because it was a most wonderful mix of celebration and well wishes. At some point her attention had drifted, instead focusing on finding Regulus. His involvement in the wedding party had, at times, put them at entirely different ends of the ceremony and celebration. Now that it was time to mingle things seemed easier, and before long the witch had spotted him.

"It was a rather beautiful ceremony, wasn't it?" Estelle turned toward the other once she'd caught. "Apart from that person behind me. It was a bit distracting to have someone humming the whole time. Ruined the musical arrangement. Who hums at a wedding!"

[corvusalas]

who: @pxint-it-blxck where: st.mungo's

Life at St.Mungo's had almost become normal over the past few months. Here and there a case would stick out but the amount of war-based injuries was going down. There was nothing that could have ever allowed her to remotely feel at ease the way she had before hell broke loose, but it certainly was a step in the right direction.

Selma had been in the middle of sorting her equipment when the knock of one of the medi-assistants announced that one of the few, yet increasing number of appointments she took had arrived. The former Ravenclaw wasted no time, letting them know to send them in without delay before her attention drifted to the chart on her desk.

No matter how she twisted and turned things, there were things she felt like she was missing. Whether it be information or knowledge; one leading to the other. Selma was nothing if not determined, almost burning with a need to help the patient in question live life the way he deserved. Quick flick of the wand and the quill began to take notes on a pad on her desk. That would do for now.

Selma finally turned to face him, feeling in part almost rude for having taken her time before giving the other the attention they deserved. "Mr Black, welcome." The blonde managed a polite smile as she reached for the chart. Whatever little information had been given, it always seemed to make more sense to ask the person in question directly. "We'll move over there in a moment," she paused, pointing toward some of the equipment. "but I do have some questions regarding some things before we get started on that. If you don't mind?"