closed

[closedrod-blog1]

On any other day, Rodolphus would have questioned why Amycus was making Rosemary Applebee cry behind Madame Puddifoots but right now he had a one track mind. Sirius, the slimy little bastard went too far. All the grief and pain Rodolphus had felt was being channeled into finding him, into making him pay for capitalizing on Marlene’s pain. On her hysteria because Rod had seen her that night. She wasn’t in her right mind and Sirius took advantage of that. For a moment he listened to Amycus, he lips slightly parted by the threat but he overlooked it all the same. It wasn’t his business. 

It didn’t take long for the girl to leave sobbing, something Rodolphus wasn’t surprised by. As Amycus stepped into pace with him, he began to speak. “You want to go let off some steam? I’ve been searching for Sirius, if you help me find him you can help me fuck him up.”

@carrow-amycus

[closedrod-blog1]

phortescue:

Alice was confused. Confused as to why Rodolphus Lestrange was not glowering or sneering or snapping, confused as to why he was offering to help clean up her mess. This was someone she’d never seen eye to eye to, someone who had never shown her kindness and who she had never shown kindness either — Rodolphus Lestrange was a headache, someone Alice hated, and she didn’t want his help or his pity. “No,” she said, voice hoarse but angry, too. She looked at him, this poster-boy for all things she despised, and she felt sick. “Who do you — honestly, who do you think you are, Lestrange? Wanting to clean up my fucking messes? Is seeing me like this –”  Broken, weak, grieving. “– making you feel guilty? Remorseful? Pitiful? I don’t want it, I want you to fuck off, because you’re a constant reminder of all the people dying because — and don’t you dare deny it — you are just like whoever who killed him, you’re just like whoever killed Matthew. And if you aren’t yet, we both know that that’s what you and your fucking friends will end up being, so I want you to leave me alone.”

Her words were venom and her eyes tearful, and she wasn’t even sure if she believed her own words, but if there were anyone in this castle she was sure would end up wearing a mask and a Mark when they were older, it was him. And that all because she remembered how his eyes had looked that first night.

Rodolphus deserved this. Every bit of it, and he knew that. He deserved to hear these words spit at him, just to perfectly land their marks. And they did. He felt them pierce through his armor as she drew back and let each insult fly. “I don’t pity you, Alice.” He told her weakly, feeling as if her words were only further proof he’d only condemned himself. You are your mistakes his father used to tell him, and it wasn’t until now that he fully understood what they meant. No one would ever see Rodolphus as anything other than a monster, or monster in the making. No one from outside of his world would accept him, he would only be seen for his money and the power it gave him. “I-” he had to pause, suck air between his teeth to fill enough of his lungs to be able to speak. “That isn’t true.” He told her, shaking his head softly. “You don’t know them. You don’t know me. I’m not them. I won’t be.” He wanted to tell her who they are. He wanted to tell her the things they were capable of. He wanted to tell her that he loved Matthew McKinnon. That he would have died in his place without hesitation that his ghost reminded him every day of what he was. Something monstrous and confused, which was a lethal combination. 

For a moment he looked behind himself, as if he were actually considering taking twenty minutes to reroute himself into the opposite direction to get to where he needed to be. “Alice, I just need to get through. You can curse me if you want, okay? Hex me, something. I don’t want to be your enemy though. I’m not, despite what happened at the beginning of the year.” Despite the fact his ‘future father in law’ was currently incarcerated for something that was likely tied to her fathers death. Rodolphus was sure she wouldn’t believe him, he didn’t really believed himself, not fully. Not with the way Alice had always seemed to hate before she ever even spoke to him. But he was trying to clear his name and his conscious. He was trying. 

[closedrod-blog1]

bcllxtrixblack:

on and on it went. hadn’t he learned from the past? she was far too immature for conversations such us this. “oh but of course i have to be miserable. it’s the job of a housewife, don’t you see?” nonetheless it brought about the question. what did she want? she knew, for sure, what she didn’t want ( for the mind of a pessimist thought only of the negatives ). she didn’t want what narcissa dreamed of. she didn’t want to go to balls, to plan events, to live her life through dull social dinners. she didn’t want to be a mother. she didn’t want to waste away. but most of all, she didn’t want to be forgotten. so what did she want? she wanted to make her mark on the world.

all this would vanish in an instant if cygnus black was charged, as with a loss of status she would lose all possibilities of having power.

“all this talk of marriage is making me sick. can you really not think of anything else to speak of?” she needed more of a distraction than anything else, and speaking of a wedding that relied on her father’s outcome, well, that was anything but a distraction. but what had she expected, when she came to talk to rodolphus lestrange, of all people? when she brought up their betrothal in the first place? yet it was her job to place the blame on others, her job to be lost in her own pride. “how time has made you boring.”

A cruel roll of laughter left his lips as the word housewife left hers. “Well at least you’re smart enough to see that misery and conventional standards are synonymous but I never had any intentions of making you into a housewife.” No, Rodolphus never had any desire of domesticating another person. “But I am disappointed that your ambitions don’t push the limits of your expectations. Really? Housewife, Bellatrix?” He let out a snort as he took the drink from the bartender and downed nearly half of it with a swiftness provided only by experience.

Everything in his life was spiraling and this woman he was meant to marry couldn’t have the slightest resemblance to a serious conversation. Rodolphus was an incredibly serious person. Everything he did had intention behind it. “No, I can’t. Because if you can’t respect me enough to talk to me about something that involves us both I don’t want to talk to you at all. Call me boring but at least I can make something out of my life without having to change my last name. Piece of advice? Start thinking about your fucking future because you’re in a position that very few other girls are. Take advantage of the opportunities around you or else you’re going to become nothing if your father goes to Azkaban. Narcissa? She could charm the devil himself, Abraxas will still accept her. You on the other hand?” For a moment he paused, giving her a long look. “You won’t have anything to fall back on. Find something to fall back on.” 

Rodolphus didn’t want to tell her flat out you’re connected to men that can introduce you to the dark lord-- the only shot of power for a feral girl like you-- that can teach you magic to unlock the most powerful parts of your soul-- use it use it use it but he also knew that if he couldn’t get out of this betrothal (or his agreement to join the dark lord), if he couldn’t find something to mean enough to get him out of this he did not want Bellatrix strapped to him like chains, holding him back. No, there was something that appealed to the darker parts of him when he thought about dragging Bellatrix all the way down with him. 

[closedrod-blog1]

antheaxdelafuente:

“Why, Rodolphus, it was perfectly innocent,” they said, batting their eyelashes at him. “We were just having a chat but since you’re here …” They waved a hand at the younger student they had been talking to and sauntered over to Rodolphus. “You’re much more interesting company anyway.”

“Since I’m here?” Rodolphus asked, with the same smirk the devil himself wore spreading across his face. The fall out of him and Marlene threw him into a whirlwind. So Anthea’s company was a welcomed distraction. “Awww, Anthea. You say that as if I’m going to hangout with you.” He teased, giving her a pitied look before cracking a smile. “No I’m just fucking around, what do you want to do?”

[closedrod-blog1]

luciusmalfov:

Any other day, Lucius would have been more than annoyed if Rodolphus has woken him up this early. This time, however, he woke up relieved ( and, admittedly, very tired ) when he saw him standing next to his bed. It’d been hard, seeing his brother in the state he was in, especially because Lucius had felt powerless. Usually, he could fix situations, as he was assertive and good looking at a situation and finding a way out, but with this, he’d not known what to do. “Sure thing,” he said, a yawn slipping past his lips as he stretched. “What time is it?” He didn’t voice his relief, in stead got out of bed more quickly than he usually would. 

How was Rodolphus supposed to look into Lucius’s eyes and tell him what had happened? How could he, a boy who had always taken pride in his stability, in his consistency, in his control tell one of the people he trusted the most that he’d momentarily collapsed in on himself? That he told Marlene because he was in love with her? Surely some part of Lucius had to know that this would happen, from the first time he admitted Marlene was back in his life. This was how it always went. It was pathetic and it was disgusting and it was unavoidable. He spent an entire childhood being punished over making rash decisions for her. She was the only thing that had ever been able to distract him again and again. “A little past five, I think.” He told him, pulling on his shoes and a jumper. 

[closedrod-blog1]

bcllxtrixblack:

little verged on being an understatement. or maybe she was merely thinking of herself, because if the positions were traded surely she would be the one cheering for a celebration. “would you be so surprised if i did?” bellatrix black’s best talent was disguising her emotions. covering them in different shades of hate, of sarcasm, of childish anger. yet despite this disguise she chose to take the empty seat across from him. truth be told, and how pathetic it sounded, she had no one else. 

narcissa, narcissa was so young, too innocent to bring into bellatrix’s mind. andromeda, oh how andromeda’s views differed from her own. and everyone else, it seemed, had no care in the world. life carried on around bellatrix black while she stood still, and that was something she’d never experienced before ( she despised it. at her father’s release, alecto would not be seeing bellatrix’s good side. thanks for your support, dear friend! ) “rodolphus lestrange, why don’t you drop the shit? you’re nearing your freedom,” excitement, oh how fake it sounded, “i’ll buy you the drink myself.”

This conversation was already leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Bellatrix was something he’d been blocking out entirely ever since the betrothal. Of course it wouldn’t surprise him if she thought so little of him. He saw the resentment in her eyes ever since their fates were seemingly signed away. Now that the promise of their marriage hung in the balance of her fathers verdict. “Quite frankly I don’t care what you think of me.” We were once friends. “And I’m being completely honest. I don’t find joy in the thought of your father being fucking incarcerated.” Because he was truly too tired to explain himself, he flicked a finger towards the bar tender to bring him another. If Cygnus were to be found guilty, it would affect more than just the two of them. It could affect Regulus as well, the only Black son left to redeem the family. It would ruin the boy.

Rodolphus was surprised by the lack of students in the pub. They came in waves though, one minute business would be creaking by and the next a flood of teenagers would pour through the doors. He wondered if she’d suspected her father of death eater involvement previously. Rodolphus had known for a while now. His father confided too much in his son, and he’d been lucky enough to sit in on a few of their meetings before. It was strange the way those worked, every man in the room left personal matters at the door. At the table everything was strictly business. It felt the same as when he was standing behind his father, watching him sway laws. “What do you want for your future, Bella? Because even if by some horrible strike of fate we don’t get out of this and you take my last name you don’t have to be miserable. That would be your choice. Even if we’re to wed I completely intend on keeping my freedom. As can you. So you might want to start considering what you want."

[closedrod-blog1]

“You know, I’m going to just pretend like I didn’t see that. Plausible deniability and all.”

[closedrod-blog1]

Emma was familiar, something sweet and sharp. She was the same sort of nostalgia one would get when revisiting a liquor they knew was bad for them. Even though, he was bad for Emma so did that make him the liquor? Rodolphus pondered this while watching her in the common room. Sirius deserved everything he’d gotten, the traitorous bastard. Marlene was something he’d been blocking from his mind entirely, or at least attempted to. How could she have slept with him? How did she not see what a grimy little fucker he was? Nope. Rodolphus wasn’t thinking about this, not now. He’d spent long enough tearing himself to shreds, he needed to focus on fixing himself. There was no way he’d be able to do whatever needed to be done in this state. He’d been distracted-- he needed to figure out a way to survive this war while keeping his soul in some sort of contact. 

Maybe if Rodolphus held on a little stronger, tried a little harder, something, him and Emma could have made it. Maybe he could have loved her. Maybe if he held on a little longer he could have been with her that night, instead of at Elena’s house. Matthew would still be dead but Rodolphus wouldn’t have seen it. Wouldn’t have lost his sanity in it. Wouldn’t have tried to contact Marlene again. Marlene-- nope. “Hey Emma.” Rodolphus began, approaching her. “Remember that weekend we spent in Belgium? Do you remember what kind of wine it was we stole from that pub?” He asked, a gleam in his eyes saying I know you do of course you do how could you forget the first weekend we spent together? “What kind of wine was that again? It was sweeter than I anticipated. Too sweet. You were able to drink far more of it than I was. I think that was the fourth time you really impressed me.” Because Rodolphus did that, counted things subconsciously. He was always counting as if keep track of things would somehow organize them into importance. That was a way thinking he needed to break.

@emsvcnity

[closedrod-blog1]

bcllxtrixblack:

( starter for @rodolphusle-strange )

how to feel; that was the question on bellatrix’s mind. how to feel when you’re filled with glee at ending a betrothal, but l o s t at the concept of losing your name. ( not that she would lose her name. after all, cygnus black was quite the persuasive man, and the family had power beyond belief. ) yet still, she felt –– empty. was that the correct descriptor? she didn’t even know anymore. she didn’t. even. know.

the three broomsticks was full of life and chaos. ( chaos, the way she liked it. ) it was there she found the other half of this bargain, and with a voice that was far too soft to match her wicked features she spoke, “celebratory butter beer, i see.” n o n e of the emotions were shown, none of the confusion. she was simply ( horribly ) bellatrix, unchanged.

The past few weeks had been surreal. With Cygnus Black been arrested and Rabastan being freed from his betrothal. The chance stood that theirs would break as well, if Cygnus couldn’t weasel his way out of this one. Rodolphus would never wish the Black family name to be tarnished ( for Cissa and Reg’s sake mostly ) but the overwhelming desire to be free sank in. It made him feel guilty, to wish he could have his freedom at the expense of his loved ones. So as he glanced over at Bellatrix, his face twisted uncharacteristically. “Can we please drop the shit, Bellatrix?” He asked, his patience too thin for this but still a softness in his voice. He was tired of fighting everyone. 

Things in his life, the ghost of Matthew McKinnon and his father and Voldemort had reached a peak that took four and a half days of sleep to recover. Rodolphus Lestrange, who had never missed a day of class missed four and a half. Everyone in the common room had kept their eyes down low when he entered the room, as if they were afraid the slightest thing would set him off. “This isn’t a celebration. There’s nothing about this to celebrate. Do you really think so little of me? That I would revel in another families demise?” 

[closedrod-blog1]

mckinnonaf:

Marlene was in Hogsmeade for the express purpose of getting out of the castle. She wasn’t feeling particularly celebratory, but she really liked Hestia and Xeno and had come with the intention of fully committing herself to celebrating them. Maybe she could distract herself on the way. She’d popped by quickly, finding both of them to deposit upon them well wishes, gifts and affection, but had found herself back outside after a quick butterbeer. She told herself she’d go back, she was just taking a breather, that she could do it—but truthfully, she was doubting it, just a little.

Tucking her hands into her coat pockets, Marlene hunched up her shoulders and turned left, going around near the back of the establishment. She was wandering around, lost in her own thoughts, stomping somewhat grumpily, if slowly, when she turned down an alleyway, colliding right with another person. Every sense was on hyper alert, her skin pricking, her whole body knowing exactly who she’d crashed into before her mind caught up. Even as she stumbled backwards slightly, everything in her was lurching. Rod.

He was speaking and it was desperate. It was desperate and she was desperate. I SWEAR I DIDN’T SEE YOU and his hands were moving to try steady her and she didn’t consciously do it, didn’t intend to, but she couldn’t help but flinch away, even as his arms were dropping back to their sides. That maybe hurt most of all. He would never hurt her physically, Marlene knew to her bones, but he’d hurt her in all the worst ways emotionally, and her body didn’t have any way to protect her heart except for retreat. Her instinct had once been to run into his arms for refuge and solace—she’d done it a few weeks ago, even—and now her body was flinching away from him because the latest hurt to wrack her soul had been from him.

Please I am so fucking sorry I’ve been living in hell—Marlene couldn’t handle it, could barely resist the urge to squeeze her eyes shut and hold her hands over her ears. At least you’ve been alive to do that spun through her head, making her feel sick inside, but not as much as she did when his words crashed into her: I deserved to die instead i deserved to die instead I deserved to dis instead because Marlene didn’t think anyone deserved to die, still couldn’t quite make herself believe it, but she knew that Matthew definitely did not deserve to die, and that Elena hadn’t either, and that Rod had gone there with the express purpose of one of them dying, and she didn’t know what to do with that. She didn’t want to say anything to him. Everything was messy and confusing and everything he was saying was hitting her so hard that she couldn’t breathe, why couldn’t she breathe? Didn’t he know how unfair it was to say these things to her? Rationally, Marlene knew he couldn’t have intended to collide with her like this. He looked just as taken aback and distraught as she felt. That didn’t make it any easier, though, and honestly, she didn’t feel like being fair. Nothing about this was fair—why did she have to be?

She felt like she was choking in this moment, or drowning in it. She felt frozen. Stuck. The word flashed through her mind, and it rattled her to her core. She actually shook slightly, feeling a violent tremor go through her at the word. He’d used it that night. It was seared into her very soul. I KNOW YOU DON’T HATE ME I KNOW YOU DON’T HATE ME I KNOW YOU DON’T HATE ME—

And suddenly she was so fucking angry, because how could he know that? How dare he know that? Did she not deserve to hate him? Did she not have the right? And if it was hard to do so, to commit fully to hate, then that was a sin on her shoulders but that was for her to handle and her alone. Didn’t he owe her to at least let her pretend to hate him until she could do it fully? After everything he’d done? I’ll let you move on but nothing will ever compare to you and she just desperately wanted to move on, to hate him, for him to let her go so she didn’t feel like she was breaking in half every time she had to see him—his words rattled her, were something towards derailing her, but she refused to let them, instead holding onto her anger, because after everything, didn’t he owe it to her to let her pretend to hate him, at least until she fully could? Part of her didn’t think she ever could, but that was her burden to bear.

“Fine,” she spat out finally, acidic and cold and trying to hide how much it was breaking. On anyone else, it might have worked, but she knew deep in her bones that he could hear the pain and her raw desperate yearning for her words to be true beneath the acid, and it made her even more furious. “I hate you,” she said impulsively, throwing it at him sharply like a knife, as if the edge of her words could disguise the fact that it wasn’t true. Because it wasn’t. She didn’t hate him. She couldn’t, not fully, and it made her want to shake herself and scream because WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME. It made her hate herself with a far more passionate fervour than she could muster up for him or any of them, and she didn’t know what to do with that. “I hate you and I don’t—” her voice hitched, because she could feel something raw and sad and hurt rising beneath the anger, even as she tried to suppress it, “—I don’t want to see you ever again.”

It was hard to believe that once upon a time, Rodolphus and Marlene believed there would be a happily ever after where they were free, free from commitments and free from responsibilities. A time where I BET I COULD PICK YOU seemed more like the most hopeful bet he’d ever made. Why did it always come down to Marlene being the greatest gamble he could risk? He went six years without her and he thought he was doing what was best for him, best for his family, best for his future. Signing the deals with the devil was always the easiest part, the initial agreement. Rodolphus thought he’d weighed all factors every time he agreed to his fathers games, but somewhere along the line he lost control and everything happened so quickly. 

“You always over articulate your words when you lie to me.” Rod’s vocal cords stole the words before his brain could tell him NO. Because although he knew to the very core of his being that Marlene COULDN’T hate him, the best bet would be to let her think that she did. To let her process her anger and her grief but he needed to fix it. Fix her. Take away the pain in her throat that she spit at him. She was hurting and she was breaking and he needed to fucking fix it and he couldn’t do that while she was pretending to hate him. Perhaps part of it was rooted in his own selfish cowardice. The fear that without her he had nothing to be good for was all consuming, and he didn’t want to face that. He didn’t want to face his life without her.

and I don’t want to see you ever again. 

A flood of panic washed through him for a moment, bubbling its way up his body and into his jaw, causing his lip to quiver before he could gain control over it. What if she was telling the truth? What if that’s why she left everything unanswered? He knew it was bad. What he’d done, agreeing to go. He KNEW it was bad but what he didn’t know was why she didn’t see that it had derailed his life. Perhaps if he’d been honest from the beginning they could have worked past this already, but something bigger told him that couldn’t possibly be true either. If he’d told Marlene before trying to show her he was still HIM then she would have never gave him an opportunity to show her that it was still there. Whatever it had always been binding one to the other, it was still there. Even if it had been monumentally damaged, Rodolphus refused to believe it was forever destroyed. 

“Marlene I don’t want to be this person I don’t want this, don’t you get it?” He asked, feeling his throat grow tight. Of course she didn’t, he thought bitterly for a moment. Because she saw Sirius leave his family and break his betrothal his brother. But he wasn’t Sirius. He didn’t leave the others stuck where he was and he didn’t have anyone to fall back on. It was just them, the kids at the top against the world. “I’m stuck and I felt like I didn’t have a choice. There’s always repercussions and they’ve only gotten worse with time. I’m not okay and I don’t know how to get away and--” for a moment Rodolphus had to redirect his gaze to the clouds above them as he bit the inside of his cheek. He wouldn’t break down and cry in front of her again. “When big brothers leave the responsibility doesn’t go with them, it just gets shifted and who it falls to isn’t built for--” built for war. Built for the power and the destruction and the domination they were expected to acquire. Before he could answer, a question dawned upon him he wanted to shake off. Does that mean he was built for war? 

A deep exhale rolled from his lips, and he tried to meet her eyes. “I’m trying.” He whispered, quiet as the wind that blew the snow from the rooftops. “I’m really trying to find the answers I just don’t know what to do. I’m fucking engulfed and I just want you. I’ll do whatever you want me to Marlene, please.” He felt like a child pleading, and it revolted him. She doesn’t mean it she can’t possibly mean it she doesn’t hate you he had to remind himself. “I can wait. I will. I have. I am.”

[closedrod-blog1]

He wasn’t going to go to Hogsmeade. Rodolphus decided the day before he wouldn’t be going but when he woke something nagged at him that something would happen if he did and whether that happening would be good or whether it’d be bad he wasn’t sure. He felt like he had been functioning as half a person. After Marlene was sorted into Gryffindor he found ways to fill the empty parts of his soul but now that she left again she took them all with her. He felt empty again. Like every coping mechanism he developed in the past was ripped from him once again. He needed a distraction.

Hogsmeade looked bleak. The last time he’d been there he’d faced his father. What if he showed up again? The panic felt overwhelming to the point he had to sulk away from his butterbeer and company. It was like he was on auto-pilot. He wasn’t  paying attention to his surroundings in the slightest, he was just blindly wandering hoping that his feet would pull him away from prying eyes. The attention that had been on him since Cygnus Black was arrested had been unbearable. Everything was unbearable. Rodolphus couldn’t breathe without seeing Matthew in Marlenes eyes. He couldn’t focus without smelling death. It was like every basic human function took him back to the trauma of Matthew and the sorrow of having to tell Marlene he witnessed it. 

“OOF--” he exclaimed loudly, his body knocking into something in an alleyway. Shock and horror filled his face as he saw Marlene stumbling back a step. MARLENE MARLENE MARLENE-- his brain screamed, quite alarmed at the situation. Did she want to see him? Was this her way of seeking him out? No. This was blind luck. “Oh my god I swear I didn’t see you, I didn’t--” he paused, reaching out for a moment to steady her before letting them fall by his sides. “Please. I am so fucking sorry Marlene I’ve been living in hell for the past year and I-- please. I’m sorry.” He repeated, his voice falling into a broken plea before he could regain composure. “I’ve spent the past five and a half months wishing it were me that died instead if I could have jumped in front--” Rodolphus had to cut himself off. Desperation washed over every feature and he knew, he knew that he couldn’t talk about what happened with her until she was ready. He didn’t get to tell his side of the story to her until she was ready to hear it. 

“I deserved to die instead. I know that but I know you don’t hate me. You can’t say it, but if you could, if you could honestly tell me you hate me, that you never want to see me again-- if you can honestly say that I’ll stay away from you. I’ll leave you alone. I’ll let you move on but nothing with ever compare to you.”

@mckinnonaf

[closedrod-blog1]

phortescue:

And there was Rodolphus Lestrange. Someone who’d beaten her, someone she hated ( even though she had thought herself incapable of that feeling before ), someone who started an anger in the pit of her stomach that was cold and mean and completely useless. Alice looked at the suits of armors she had thrown over with a wide array of hexes — her anger, which had before been a motivator, was now out of control. She didn’t want him to see her like this – losing herself, slowly fracturing in little pieces – because it was exactly what he had predicted at the start of the term. And so, when she heard him say that one stupid word, she got up, pushed her lips together and looked at him.

“Forget it,” she snapped, voice filled with tears she was suppressing and anger. “Just leave, yeah? Go the fuck away.”

For a split second, Rodolphus felt something close to true remorse over their fight. It was something that seemed so minuscule to him. She started the fight. She pulled her wand first. He just ended it in a really inappropriate way. But in this moment, while she was staring up at him with detest in her eyes he felt bad for it. He recognized the grief in her grief the anger festering away. He cleared his voice and nodded towards the mess of armor littering the narrow corridor. “Just as soon as the halls are cleared and I can get through.” He told her, glancing away awkwardly. He didn’t want to be here in front of her, feeling guilty over something that happened months ago because his heart was broken by her friend and because her father was dead. Part of him wished he was able to feel remorse over things for reasons that mattered, like because he was a shitty person and shouldn’t have done what he did in the first place. After a moment of thinking about it, he concluded it came back to Marlene and what she would think if she saw him right now. 

“I can do it myself. You can leave.”

[closedrod-blog1]

blvckheir:

He shook his head. Rod was one of the only people who could understand what was going on with him now, but he wouldn’t bother him. Not when something was so clearly wrong with him. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You had a lot of people worried.” 

"Oh god, the worst virus went around the dungeons. Did you not catch it?” Rodolphus asked the younger boy, a concerned look etched into his features. He didn’t genuinely care whether or not Regulus believed it or not. He was sure the boy would pick up on the lack of desire to talk about it. “Listen--” he began, changing the subject. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you’ve spoken to your parents or not. Rabastan and Andromeda’s betrothal has been canceled. Mine may be depending on the fate of Cygnus’s trial. Is everything okay with you?”

[closedrod-blog1]

phortescue:

      “If you could just give me a moment,” said Alice, voice somewhat hoarse ( and not at all because of a cold ). She was c r u m b l i n g, and she didn’t know how to stop it; all she knew was that she had to, with mourning siblings younger than her requiring her guidance and an Auror trainee program to get into. 

Rodolphus wasn’t sure what to say. In front of him was Alice Fortescue, a girl he’d bested in a duel only months ago (because maybe no one had told her he didn’t fight fair) scrambling to clear the hall of rows of suits and armor that he could only guess she had tried to obliterate. Her father was dead. Matthew was dead. Cygnus was imprisoned. Rodolphus was bordering dangerous territory and it wouldn’t be a long shot for someone to be able to accuse him of involvement in at least a few of the crimes. There was  something thick in her voice and he felt his stomach hollow out. Her and Marlene were friends, was she someone Marlene would have confided in about their....break up? Rodolphus wasn’t sure what to call it-- not so much of a break up as a fall out and he wasn’t sure which was more difficult to repair. They were part of the other. She would forgive him. She had to forgive him.

“Pardon?” He asked, his voice breaking an awkward silence following her words. It was easier to pretend he hadn’t heard the strain in her voice.

[closedrod-blog1]

magical/mythical asks

satyr: have you ever been drunk?

fairy: what would you call your aesthetic?

scarab: have you ever eaten a bug?

changeling: is there a part of yourself that youre especially insecure about?

faun: do you enjoy being outdoors?

siren: do you ever sing in the shower?

selkie: are you a strong swimmer?

ghost: are you a shy person?

phoenix: do you like hot weather?

sprite: what is your favorite combination of colors? (ex. purple and blue, orange and pink)

pixie: what is your favorite joke/pun?

shapeshifter: if you could choose to switch places with any celebrity/actor/etc who would it be and why?

dragon: would you rather grow wings and soar through the sky or grow gills and dwell in the water?

sylph: have you ever wished you were invisible? if so, when?

angel: what are three things you love about one of your close friends? (you can name them or not)

griffon: what's your favorite animal?

succubus: are you a virgin?

valkyrie: is there something that you would fight to defend? if so, what is it?

gnome: what's your favorite plant or flower?

doppelganger: do you know anyone who looks like you?

goblin: what do you fear losing the most?

mandrake: when was the last time you screamed out loud and what were the circumstances?

[closedrod-blog1]

rvbvstvn:

Nodding, he attempted to gently agree with his brother, desperate to fend off the anxiety fluttering around his ribcage. The mention of their father however destroyed that particular endeavor entirely. “If you don’t mind me asking Rod, why you felt so ill? Your perfect attendance seemed important to you, not just father.” He wasn’t used to this Rod, this one felt more honest. “I have only been able to speculate, he hasn’t written me. So, no I don’t know this already.” He spoke softly and wondered at the contents of that letter, and the state of his and Rod’s betrothals.

Rabastan was like a shark for information on Rod’s life, and it drove him crazy. Lately it’d been worse than others, but he didn’t want to fight about it now. So instead he kept the stone cold, unreadable expression on his face and gave another shrug. “Like I said, it must have been something I caught from one of the younger years.” Their betrothals were a welcome change of subject. Rodolphus figured that their father must have wanted him to be the one to tell him if he still hadn’t. “Father is breaking your betrothal, Rabastan. It isn’t happening. You’re free. Congratulations.”

[closedrod-blog1]

ludobagmcn:

You’re asking me? Ludo frowned slightly, before shrugging. He supposed it really didn’t make much sense—he hadn’t really been paying attention to who he was asking, anyway. Come to think of it, Ludo wasn’t even sure if he’d ever seen the two Seventh Years talk before. Then again, he’d hardly have paid attention if they had; it wasn’t the sort of thing he was likely to register.

“Kind of just asking anyone,” he said with an easy smile. “Figure she’s pretty recognisable throughout the castle and all, so worth a shot.” There was something about Rod in that moment that Ludo couldn’t put his finger on, but it seemed slightly… tense, or something like it, though Ludo couldn’t possibly fathom why. “Thanks anyway,” he said, resigned half-smile on his face, before perking up slightly. “Pretty sure I’ll be seeing her tonight anyway, so ‘least I won’t have to go up to her tower.” Given he also lived in a tower, he should probably complain less about Gryffindor’s location, but those were silly details, in his opinion.

Rodolphus learned young how to tolerate uncomfortable situations, but this one caused something deeply ugly in him to burn. Why did Ludo have Marlene’s sweater and why why why was Ludo going to be seeing her tonight? “No problem, Bagman.” Rodolphus replied in a pleasant voice, the kind a politician gave his competition right before a debate. The kind laced with honey and venom and a faux tolerance of the other party. Usually he’d always enjoyed Ludo’s company enough, a rare outsider able to keep up with the socialites. It was his money oriented mind, Rodolphus thought. His ability to roll the dice and call a good gamble. But right now, right now none of that mattered to Rodolphus.

“You’ll be seeing McKinnon, later?” he asked, an air of surprise in his tone. He kept it light and friendly and indifferent all the while something deep inside him was festering with jealousy. “That’s a shame.” He tutted, reaching his hands deep into his robe pockets. “What’re you guys going to be doing? I was going to say that you should hang out with us tonight. We’ve got an itch for a good game but you’re clearly already busy and McKinnon hates my crowd so I doubt she’d want to accompany you.” Rodolphus replied, because what did he have to lose by saying that? Sure, it wasn’t the truth but either he could learn something by the statement. It was a line thrown out to see if Marlene had ever talked about them, and to find out what Ludo was seeing her for at the same time. “Another night, certainly.”