Ο.Β βΒ timothee chalamet : cis male : he/him : current heir of the house of black : bohemian rhapsody by queenΒ ΟΒ did you see REGULUS BLACK ? you know ,Β 25 year old PURE-BLOOD who was formerly in slytherin. some say REGULUS can be quite cunning but are known to be apathetic. they are aligned with the death eaters .Β maybe thatβs why they remind me of sweet tea , crumpled and unsent letters , full of regret ; all polite and fake , unreadable smiles . Β
a literate portrayal of regulus arcturus black, brother of sirius black and death eater. penned by aria. do not interact if you aren't from MUDDYWATERSHQ.
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Ο.Β DATA.
regulus was born in january of 1961, making him a capricornΒ ( ambitious , resourceful , conceited )Β and two years younger than his brother, sirius.
full name: regulus arcturus black.Β
age: 25.
allegiance: the death eaters.
blood status: pure-blood.
hogwarts house: slytherin.
job: heir to the house of black.
height: 5'8
patronus: a black dog, he assumes it's the grim so he vows to never show it to anyone.
boggart: himself as a kid, screaming but unheard.Β
amortentia: sweet tea, quidditch jersey, cologne and new parchment.
sexuality: homosexual.
gender: cis male.
relationship status: single.
during his younger years, he was a bright, imaginative child that admired his brother and enjoyed his days playing, reading, and hanging around with the house-elves. however, that display of childishness was soon beat out of him from a young age by his mother, walburga.Β
regulus tried to be the perfect child, and the day his brother became a gryffindor marked a beginning for regulus' path as the spare in the family. cemented it was when his brother left and regulus became the sole heir.Β
a socialite, despite his loathing for human interactions, he soon became proficient in relations with other purebloods. older people found his intelligence and politeness charming, and teens around his age were enticed by his mysterious approach. he wasn't sirius, but he survived.Β
if he were to choose how to spend his life, he would have left his house too. he would become a writer, enjoying the natural calmness of the books he finds himself lost in. however, he lacks the heart to leave everything he's ever known.Β
as soon as he turned sixteen, he was marked by the dark lord, to his parent's joy and pride. despite this and how resourceful he is, he hasn't gone on many missions or raids. he's been sidelined and he prefers it that way.Β
overall, he despises the ways of the death eaters; finds them barbaric. he once believed in what his parents professed, in what the dark lord promised them, the entire salvation of purity. but each passing year proves to him how everything turned into a fight for power and ego, thus making him feel trapped in a situation that long ago stopped being just a child's game.
Ο.Β SEEKED RELATIONSHIPS.
enemies.
regulus is not the most beloved person, even less during his years at hogwarts. despite his intelligence and aloof demeanor, he has always been characterized by being abrasive with his responses, especially if someone tests his patience or if he simply doesn't like them.Β
and the strength he has for witty responses and dry sarcasm, he lacks in physical strength. so it'd be fun to have him having gotten under someone's skin and thus ending up receiving a good, deserved punch. with love <3.Β
pure-blood friends.Β
he's always surrounded himself with people that are in his same social environment, so if you're a slyrherin, pure-blood, upper-class, why not be friends ( at convenience ) ? pure-blooded kids had to keep each other company at social events, after all.Β
close friends.
regulus isn't the type of person that has many friends, but I would like him to have a couple of close friends that he could count on. they'd never fully get to know the real regulus, but they'd be people with whom he would enjoy having a nice conversation. he wasn't a hermit in hogwarts, and I'd prefer if they got to know him since then.Β
what about romance?Β
regulus is open for romantic connections. however, this all comes down to chemistry and how it is developed.
It's on an exhaustive morning when the youngest of the Black heads to the same street where he always sees his... Old friend, much to the surprise of most. What began with coincidences and simple cordiality, evolved into a strange and unlikely friendship. In his appearance it can be seen the tiredness making a dent in his body, from the purple bags under his eyes, to the thinness that leaves him slender in his dark robes.
He doesn't know what leads him to resort to her in that way, perhaps despair, perhaps his own loneliness. But Regulus sits in front of her with his face hidden behind his hands.
"I know I told you I didn't believe in cards and tarot and... Oracles, but, Sybill... I really need some help with myβ" the young man gulps, a dry expression uncovering itself when he lets his hands down against the table. "β situation."
βοΎ*Β·οΎΒ pushing the door open, severus peered into grimmauld place, searching for regulus. theyβd promised to meet there and discuss the past events. to say that severus was nervous to even s p e a k about them would be an understatement. he wasnβt entirely sure that he would be able to express his emotions correctly. but with all of it, he needed to speak to someone, and who better to speak to than someone that he actually mightβve consideredΒ a f r i e n d, but wasnβt entirely sure heβd ever admit that to anyone.Β βregulus, you here?β severus asked, walking in, searching through the rooms for him.Β βmate? i know iβm a few minutes late, but i got caught up in a potion.β
if there's something regulus dedicates himself to when he's on edge, it's reading. he enjoys the texture of the books against his hands, the smell of the parchment, old and used but oh, so full of potential knowledge or simple entertainment.
that's how severus finds him in one of the main rooms, sitting comfortably near the fireplace and clad into that white and elegant shirt, hugged by a black vest framing his silhouette. silver gaze rises slowly, like the elegant and barely noticeable sweep behind dark and populated eyelashes. he isn't surprised to see him in his... home.
βΒ I don't mind. you do know I spend my time perfectly, anyway, β he shrugs, a bit undignified but it's just severus, his mate from hogwarts, who he saw initiate in the ranks of the dark lord when he also did. he doesn't care about losing his composure if it's just the two of them, at least not that much. " I can see from a mile away something bothers you, though. "
his gaze is interspersed, that kind of gesture that makes him look as if he were analyzing someone. it's really just the fact that his eyesight is somewhat poor at the distance.
his shoulders fell back as he felt the presence of another break through the otherwise vacant street, back straightened as instinctively his grip on his wand tightened. gradually, he grew to a halt, the rubbery thuds coming from his boots replaced by the patter of shoes that were more expensive than his net worth. the faint glow radiating from the street lamps was enough to expose who exactly was approaching him. the hold he had on his wand loosened as the other spoke, though his posture remained rigid.
βgood evening, regulus.β casually, he glanced at their surroundings before his eyes landed back on the younger. βyes, i wouldnβt necessarily say this is my venueβ¦ though, i donβt believe there is a sign anywhere that says βno half-breeds allowedβ, is there?β His lips pulled into a tight grin, head tilting to mirror regulusβs posture.
the moon shines against the cobblestones in the alley, a foreboding ache of sorts clinging to his insides when he sees that man. he's reminded of school, halls full of laughter, pranks, a brotherhood he was denied and left him falling into the pit of venomous snakes.Β he's right where he was left, and also not quite. he's gotten taller, angrier, his tongue has soured and the venom threatens to spill out of his palates and pour over them.Β
β there should be , but who am I to judge? even the lesser crowd needs a place to sleep, β disdain overspills, a certain smirk tugging at the corners of his lips and leaving him looking like the menacing little brat he once was, and maybe he never stopped; deep inside he knows lupin is never going to stop looking at him as just sirius' younger brother. β wouldn't be surprised if the pariah I used to call brother is bunking in there, playing his homeless part. β
he will never get used to the incessant burning of the mark on his forearm every time they're recruited out of some necessity. those are usually meetings of utmost importance, but when regulus wasn't called for the massacre that happened a couple of days ago, he thanked the creator for not having to stain his hands in such an unworthy and barbaric act. watching his cousins celebrate the event leaves a strange bitter taste in his mouth.
however, it's not the dark lord who calls him that day. it's lucius malfoy through his fireplace, chiseled features and the typical elegant drawl of his words. that's why he's out there in that saloon of magical high society, expensive suit attached to his slim build while walking with the bearing of an heir that was beaten and clawed into him. his curls frame his face, which tilts in a typical gesture of him like a small feline before taking a seat next to the malfoy heir. he's able to see that it didn't take him long to order a glass of whiskey.
βΒ if this is about me not going , I wasn't summoned , β his words leave a lot up to interpretation, but of course his fellow comrade would know what he refers to. his cloak swings to one side, lithe wrists unbuttoning it as he relaxes into the table. his ample collection of inherited rings make a sound when he rests his hands on it, and his characteristic silver eyes descend upon lucius' features.
few are the times that regulus finds himself involved in active work for the death eaters, something that his mother has never failed to reprimand him for. each pressure feels like a shackle on each leg, sinking his body into a lake of complaints, ineptitude and what-ifs.
THE RED WEDDING, that's what they're calling that massacre that turns regulus' stomach and makes him thank salazar slytherin, circe and morgana themselves for not having been sent to commit that carnage on such a particular day. nothing in his words or countenance indicates contempt for what happened, but deep inside a whirlpool of disgust makes a dent in his gut.
his black tunic covers his lithe body, a mark hidden by the expensive italian fabric. no one would expect to see the heir to the house of black in a waste of places like that, but duty is duty, and regulus is just the herd of a much greater cause. however, it's a presence he recognizes more than well which makes him turn his head, jet black curls framing his defined cheekbones and oh. remus lupin, clearly a member of the order, so far from home and so poorly positioned.
he plays with his silver rings as he always does when he is anxious, and his steps full of agony and an indisputable shadow of concern lead him to impede the course of that marauder.
βanyone would think it's my lucky day, lupin. or perhaps just plain misfortune, β his head cocks to the side, a gesture similar to that of a cat stalking his prey. β I wouldn't take this as a place for half-breeds, but alasβ¦ here you are. β
