l i t t l e k i n g @rexulus-blaxk-blog - Tumblr Blog

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

//filed under jess wants things to do later on her lunch break

Owl, July 3rd 1978 || Emma

Emma, I just wanted to write to let you know that your last match was brilliant. You were flying circles around the Cannons, and they seemed to be in rare form, though still no match. I wanted to wait to try and catch you afterwards to tell you in person just how amazing the game was, but there was quite a crowd of fans waiting for you, and I wanted to give them at least a chance at your attention (Even if half of them couldn't recognize the brilliance of that double loop behind play you pulled off near the end of the match.) Perhaps I'll be able to get the new Chasers to pull off something similar this year. That alone ought to win us the cup. Slughorn wrote to ask if I would take the Captain position, though my attendance is still undecided. If I'd known my last match was going to be my last match I definitely would have left an impression on everyone. It's weird to think that that might have been it. The team definitely felt sub-par without you on it. There's only so much that can be done while playing Seeker. If I'm being honest, I think I'd rather return to school. It would certainly be much less stress to only have to worry about my education, but I do recognize the unique situation I find myself in given current events. Even my parents are questioning whether or not the school is as safe as Number 12, but the final decision will be made closer to September first. I can't imagine that it will be easy sending in assignments via owl, but we both know that I will do whatever is expected of me. Mother insists on throwing a dinner soon. She’ll have me send a more formal invitation when more details are planned, but I did let her know that your schedule is not your own anymore. You know my Mother though. She insists that if it is important enough to you the team will wait. I did attempt to explain that the decision is not your own, and that even if it was that if I were in your shoes I would likely choose Quidditch over dinner as well, but she wouldn't have any of that. That is more than enough about me though. How have you been doing? Tell me about the travels the team has taken you on. Tell me all about your best matches, obviously I wasn't able to see any throughout the school year and second hand accounts from people that have never played will simply never live up to the story from the pitch itself. Playing professionally must mean that you visit some pretty fantastic places with fantastic people. You'll just have to let me live vicariously through you; we both know I'll never have the chance to live that particular dream. I look forward to hearing back from you, and please don't worry about turning down Mother’s invitation. I've already begun vouching for your expected absence. -- R. A. B. @emma-vxnity

What kind of person could you see yourself with?

Whomever my parents deem fit. What a silly question.

Would you rather betray your family or Lord Voldemort?

I would rather betray neither, as that isn't an option, I would sooner betray the Dark Lord. Family is the only true constant. When everything is said and done with this war that we're fighting, they'll be the ones that are still there in the end.

If the Order offered you full protection, would you leave and join your brother?

Protection is a funny thing. The person receiving it has essentially no power. Does protection have an expiration date or conditions? Does it encompass my safety as well as those I care about who may be affected by my actions, or is it limited? Without an offer on the table consisting of more explicit details how am I to know how to answer that question? I'm no idiot, I know what it means to leave His service - Death. If there were someone who could guarantee not only my protection from that, but of anyone I choose as well, the offer might be worth considering. As it stands there is no offer on the table, and I am quite happy with my decision. It would take something much bigger than that which is currently happening to sway me.

rexulus-blaxk-blog

For the next hour I must answer all questions received truthfully.

rexulus-blaxk-blog

//fill my ask while I commute. make him uncomfortable.

rexulus-blaxk-blog

× marlene

rexulus-blaxk-blog

rexulus-blaxk:

marleneisms:

To be honest, the attack of the Death Eaters hadn’t really been a surprise. It was expected to happen at some point and while most of them had already expected it to happen way sooner, Marlene somehow still hadn’t been entirely prepared for it. However, they outnumbered the enemy’s attack force and thus the fight was almost over before it had even really begun. If the numbers hadn’t been in their favor, she wasn’t so sure if they had won that easily. Luckily, it was vain to think about what might have happened, as they had actually won. Who needed to delve into hypothetical situations then?

Because they couldn’t be entirely sure if their cover had blown or if the attackers had just found them through pure luck, they had quickly decided to take the three of them as hostages. By this, they could find out what the enemy knew about their organization and what else they had planned. Knowledge was power, after all, wasn’t it? After knocking out Bellatrix - a very satisfying feeling, to be honest -, she apparated with Regulus to one of the cabins in the outskirts of London where they decided they’d keep the hostages. Of course, her favorite pick would have been Bella as a chance of torturing Bella would have been even more satisfying than only defeating her, but she knew that it would be stupid to discuss a banality like this in a dangerous situation like this. And who knew, she still might get her turn at torturing her.

The blonde one quickly bounded the hands and feet of her victim as well as she, of course, took away his wand before he could even flutter his eyes. And then she waited for him to, finally, wake up again to let the fun again. Even if she was already pretty sure that she wouldn’t do him any harm - as long as he was the slightest bit cooperative - simply because she couldn’t see herself capable of torturing somebody like Regulus Black. Bellatrix? Sure, with a smile on her face, but Reg was a different story. They’d see where their little chitchat went and decide from then.

A glass of fire-whiskey in her hand that she had gotten herself by a quick ‘accio’ spell, she came back to the dark haired one when she heard him being conscious again now. “Looks, who’s finally awake to get the fun started”, she responded a little, amused smile gracing her lips before taking another sip of her drink and taking a seat in front of him, “so how did you find us?” Marlene didn’t need to tell him who she was. After all, she didn’t wear her mask anymore anyway.

The light that streamed in when the door to the room was opened did little to dissuade the pounding in his head, but at least it had confirmed for him that it wasn’t some kind of spell keeping him in the dark. The figure moving into the room wasn’t one he could make out before his eyes adjusted, squinting to try and figure out who she was. That was the only thing he could tell before she spoke - that she was a woman.

It was her voice that was the giveaway, and he had to admit that he was stunned. Marlene McKinnon. He’d never expected her to be a part of this - never expected her to be part of the uprising against them when she herself came from a prominent pureblood family. He would have sooner expected her to remain neutral and completely unaffiliated before he would have expected this. Truly, it felt a bit like a slap in the face.

He found himself ignoring her question entirely, in favour of addressing her. He had to believe that he hadn’t quite lost yet. Perhaps as a whole the Death Eaters didn’t appeal to her, but if he could just get through to her one on one...

“Marlene, not you... You’re better than this.” He lowered his voice, when the sound of it seemed only to further irritate his headache, “You don’t have to stay involved in this organization... There’s room for you. You’ll be forgiven, you only need to do what is right. You know what is right, I know you do. Join us. Please join us. Tell him what you know and you’ll be rewarded for it. What you’re doing - Aversio - is wrong. You’re smart. You’ve got to understand that...”

@marleneisms

Why the Death Eaters?

Because we are the victors in this war. We will restore the old ways, and return respect to the families that deserve it. When the alternative feels that lesser creatures are of equal value what other option do I have? Mudbloods have stolen their magic, and aren’t worthy to hold a wand - all I want is to see that that becomes a reality.

#Anonymous

For the next hour I must answer all questions received truthfully.

× marlene

His head was pounding. He felt as though he'd gone hours playing quidditch with a set of balls comprised entirely of bludgers… and an opposing team comprised entirely of beaters. Things had gone so wrong so quickly for him. He'd reasoned with Severus and Bellatrix that he could speak to this group diplomatically, that they didn't need to go in wands blazing- they didn't even know how many people they were about to take on anyways. If he hadn't returned to them within a few minutes, or there were signs of distress they could interfere, but he was confident that he could handle negotiations. What Aversio had done was beneficial in a sense to them as well. The minister wasn't cooperating with what they wanted, he was only playing some kind of middle ground. They were better off without him, with the hope that they'd be able to elect one of their own. He'd failed to factor in that the only goal Aversio had been known to have was the downfall of the death eaters. He hadn't stood a chance, really. At the end of the day he wasn't even a fully qualified wizard, and it was him against… how many of them? Words were never going to be of any use to him here. He'd tried, barely half a dozen words in before the first spell had hit him. He hadn't even had time to draw his wand before the second, third, and fourth were making contact. Ropes had bit into his body so tightly that he was sure he'd felt his ribs cracking, and then he'd known nothing, nothing until now. And it wasn't fair to say that he knew anything. It was dark, and he still couldn't move, not very far at least. He could feel his hands and feet bound. Bound and attached to something that he couldn't see in the dark, but a tug told him that it was fairly hopeless. The familiar cold of his mask was gone, and he couldn't feel his wand in his pocket either. Was this prison? Had they dropped him into a cell in Azkaban? He didn't even know if there darkness surrounding him was real or a by-product of some hex that had blinded him. The only things he could discern was that at least for the time being he was alone and vulnerable. He heard someone before he could see them, and he could only hope that it was one of his companions rather than an adversary, taking the risk and calling out, “Hello? Is that one of you?” @marleneisms

nataliedupont-blog

Split Personalities // Natalie and Regulus

rexulus-blaxk-blog

nataliedupont:

On Mission

December 20th

@rexulus-blaxk

When Natalie had gotten word that she was to be called for a mission, she had been excited. She hoped the Dark Lord had heard of her attempts to prove her worth, her missions with Barty, Rod, and Evan and even her attempt to intimidate young Miss Pandora, and honored her with an assignment all her own. That was simply one step closer to making sure when the Death Eaters won, Natalie would be in place to protect the people she cared about.

Instead, she found out she had been assigned to a recon escapade with Regulus Black, which basically added up to hours outside in the damp cold watching the house of a suspected Aversio member. It wasn’t exactly the sort of assignment she had been hoping for, but it wasn’t the worst. At least the company wasn’t too bad.

Regulus and Natalie had grown up around each other, as pureblood children tended to do. They had been cordial for years, but had never quite run in the same social circles. Regulus often came off as stuffy, especially when compared to his brother, but Natalie understood what it was like to be overlooked. She had been overlooked many times, especially now. Perhaps it would do them both good to get to know each other better. Natalie rubbed her hands together, breathing heavily into them to warm them.

“They never tell you these Death Eater missions are so cold, do they?” Natalie had thought to put on her warmest sweater, but she hadn’t grabbed anything more than her finger-less Hufflepuff gloves. She grinned at him, turning her eyes back to the house in question. “So, how long are we supposed to sit here before we either freeze or find something out? Because at this rate I’m halfway convinced the house is abandoned.”

Missions like this were easy. These were the ones that came naturally to him. The ones where he could sit and study, try and figure out all of the pieces and put them together. He far preferred reconnaissance to taking a more active role. He always wished that things could have been handled in a much more diplomatic manner, but he knew that force was sometimes necessary. Still, he preferred not to have to do it.

It was why he didn’t mind holing down for the evening with Natalie, keeping watch over the house they’d been sent to watch. As of yet they knew nothing, and that was getting to be far too familiar a feeling for Regulus on these kinds of missions. He wanted to take back some useful information, and the particular shade of blue that the door was was of little use to anyone.

“I wouldn’t have thought it necessary to remind anyone that it would be cold in England so close to Christmas, so you’ll have to forgive whoever it was that left out that vital information.” His sarcasm needed practice. He wasn’t very much one for it. “Coincidentally, the same heating charm that you would use on a cup of tea to prevent it going cold before you’ve had a chance to drink it also works well on both robes and shoes.”

But then there was wondering how long they waited, and he didn’t know how to answer that. The answer for her and the answer for him were probably two different things. “I don’t plan on leaving until either have good information to bring back, or I’m summoned. If you don’t want to be here anymore you can go.”

FMK: Amelia, Marlene, Dorcas

Fuck: AmeliaMarry: MarleneKill: Dorcas

Marlene is of proper lineage. It would be beneficial to both families if we were to marry, but I understand that there is discussion happening elsewhere for that particular girl. As for the others? I don’t know them very well. Call it random pick. I'd rather not associate with half bloods at all if I don't have to.

FMK: Kingsley, Gideon, Sirius

Fuck: GideonMarry: KingsleyKill: the other one

This is highly inappropriate. There is no logical explanation for the first two, only that the third one only fit into one category.

FMK: James, Lily, Benjy

Fuck: LilyMarry: BenjyKill: James

At least she's female, even if she's filthy. There's hope for Benjy Fenwick yet, but Potter is definitely a blood traitor.

roleplaymemesforyou

Send my muse three names, and they'll have to choose who to "Marry","Fuck"or "Kill".

rexulus-blaxk-blog

arsonists lullaby || sirius & regulus [au]

rexulus-blaxk-blog

He wants to laugh when all that Sirius can ask is if he’s free. What was freedom to the Black brothers anyways? They’d surely never known it at home, and Regulus suspected that even after Sirius had gotten out that there had been someone else pulling at the strings. Even now in the midst of this, could they really fool themselves into thinking that they were making decisions for themselves? Regulus wasn’t motivated by survival, he certainly didn’t have his own best interests at heart. If he was in this for himself he would have gotten the hell out of England as soon as he’d been presumed dead. A better escape would never present itself to him again.

Revenge fueled him now.

“Sirius, you must realize by now that neither one of us will ever be free. Freedom isn’t something that you’ll win for yourself in this war, you’ll only win it for others. We will always be a slave to the fight.” There was a lot more that he could have said, visibly it was quite clear in the way that h rocked towards the fire and bit down on the inside of his cheeks that he had strong opinions on this, but he’d never been a man of very many words.

“I can tell you that in my heart I no longer swear allegiance to anyone. Not the Dark Lord, not the family, just… No one. I have not answered his call since the night I retrieved the locket. I have not spoken to any witch or wizard since the day I read my own obituary.”

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what Sirius wanted to hear. If he knew his brother he knew that there was a right answer, and a wrong one, and he didn’t want to disappoint.

“The Dark Lord took everything from me in the end, all I want now is to return the favour.”

brightlily

As Regulus spoke, Sirius found himself nodding.

The action was at first hesitant before it emphatically grew. And as Sirius stared at the broken man before him – a man, he thought again, a little uncertainly, not boy – he realized that instead of all of the Order’s fire fights and their declarations of a just war, it’d figure that a Slytherin would be the one to end it once and for all. A mind made for cryptograms and dark, candlelight evenings, not rough bar room talk or rallying speeches in tiny apartments. The distinction seemed somehow terribly sad to him, and he found himself swallowing down a desire to crumple.

Everything they’d given. All they’d lost. And here he was, the solution, soul in hand, bitter and blackened but very much alive. Looking at Sirius with eyes so faraway and hollow.

Sirius’ mouth parted, but no words came out. He stood there for a long moment, mind slowly sifting through everything. He’d always intended – or wanted? – there to be a black and white solution to everything: a winner-takes-all solution that the Order loved the idea of so much. But that seemed faintly ridiculous in light of Regulus’ revelation. Juvenile, even.

How could they have been so wrong?

“I believe you.” The words were soft, brittle. Sirius’ brows knit together, not out of anger but out of melancholy, an urgent need to impress upon Regulus how tumultuous his feelings were; how conflicted his rain-coloured eyes must appear. They were dull now, he knew that. Dulled by war and ruin, more their mother than even before. But as he stared at Regulus, he felt something long-buried stir within him. A sense of…

No, too soon to call it that. Hope was a word he’d used too often, in the early days of the war. When they were all still burnished and bright, young and stupid, reckless and red-cheeked, ready to give anything to the cause. Hope was a flame that had burned lower, lower, lower, until the Prewett twins had been found mutilated in their London home, and then it snuffed out for good.

Sirius was parched. He licked his dry lips, tried to formulate something robust to say. He was good at this, or he used to be. Rallying the troops. That was what Prongs would call it. Prongs: even the name made his belly twist.

“I –” Sirius couldn’t look away from Regulus’ eyes. “I want to –”

Then a surge within him made him grimace, biting his bottom lip. Sirius’ chest was tight. I want to help. I want to be with you. I want…

Instead, the words were simple. “I’m here.”

rexulus-blaxk-blog

Sirius believing him wasn't something that he necessarily needed. Certainly he wanted it, but there was no need for it. He was right, whether or not Sirius chose to believe him. The locket felt as though it was burning him, and he only looked away from Sirius to cast it a glance. He'd felt low ever since he had retrieved it, and even though he had it now, he felt even less hope than he had when it had only been a plan. He didn't know if it was the horcrux itself causing it, arguably the darkest magic he knew of, or whether he genuinely saw no hope in defeating him. If he'd gone to the trouble of creating one…

Surely a soul couldn't be split more than once, or at least nobody had ever tried and managed to live to write about it… but then, why would anybody feel the need to make more than one? If a piece of your soul was safely stored in an object such as this - one so full of history that nobody would dream to destroy it - what need was there to hide away another piece for safekeeping? And what kind of man achieved his ends like this? In his tenure as a death eater he'd killed all of three people, and he could still see their faces when he closed his eyes and it would haunt him for the rest of his life… He couldn't imagine the kind of malice it took to literally split your soul in two like he had done.

“There is a book at Mother’s house…” he said quietly, tearing his eyes away from the locket and back to Sirius, “I need it. We need it. I…” he cleared his throat, getting back to his feet. The thought of everything he'd done between Orion’s death and his own departure for the cave was almost disturbing. Even for someone like himself he'd managed to accomplish a lot of work that would likely never be appreciated for what it was. “Don't be mad at me. I had to make sure that nothing would fall into Bellatrix’s hands… I had you legally reinstated. Technically? You're the head of the family right now. The house and everything in it is yours to do with as you see fit.”

He didn't know how Sirius would react to something like that. He assumed that Sirius had been relieved when he'd left the family, but it wasn't as though he could have informed him of what he was doing. He couldn't have Sirius refuse. Andromeda was an option, but there was no way it would have worked. “I can go over all of the investments and responsibilities with you when there are less pressing matters to deal with, I tried to take care of everything so that you wouldn't have to. The only thing that I would recommend is that you name an heir as soon as possible, in the event of your death.”

He couldn't be emotional about this. He had to be cold and logical, even when he didn't feel the depression in his bones. He was still in his mind the foil to Sirius, who he'd always seen as unbridled emotion, where his own had always been kept locked up tightly inside. The harder he tried now though the harder it was, and he didn't know how long he could maintain his composure.

He couldn't have guessed that he would glance away from Sirius and then back, at first a tear or two falling, some forms of relief that he wasn't alone anymore, some kind of anguish over the mess he'd gotten himself into, that he was now dragging Sirius into as well. Over a year working tirelessly just to get to this point, unable to rely on anyone but himself to get the job done. His knee shook first before it collapsed, and the first open sob had left his body, the sound entirely unfamiliar even to his own ears, shaking his head as they continued to come, “I'm so-sorry-” he choked out, grinding the heel of his palm into his eyes as though he could stop the tears that way, “I sh-shouldn't have i-inv-volved you in th-this.”

miss-aliceprewett-deactivated20

proving yourself [alice + regulus]

rexulus-blaxk-blog

He needed this. It was supposed to be easy, and yet he’d struggled with it. It had been easy to convince the girl to come back to the hotel with him. He’d turned on the charm, shown her a side of himself that nobody else had ever seen. After all, it wasn’t that he didn’t understand romance or flirting, simply that he never saw the point in it. He’d done everything right, but had that been his mistake in the end?

He shouldn’t have gotten to know her over the last few hours, shouldn’t have made the decision to wait until she was asleep to strike. She was beneath him. He knew that, and yet after everything, he hadn’t been able to do it. So he’d left the room, mask shrunken down and in his pocket. He figured that anyone nearby was asleep, but he had chosen this hotel because it was known to be empty.

Her name was Abigail. She was twenty years old. She was studying history at the University of London. She had an older brother and a younger sister. She enjoyed riding horses in the summer. She wrote poetry. She played the piano. She lived at home with her parents. Her father had a bad heart. She worked to help out with the cost of maintaining the house. Her family needed her.

He couldn’t let things like that get to him. He wished he smoked. He longed to be able to just put it all to the back of his mind and forget about it, but he couldn’t. How pathetic was it? This girl was a muggle. There was no need for her to exist, and yet he’d had the opportunity to do something about it for hours now, and he hadn’t. This was pathetic. He took a deep breath and pulled out his mask, putting it on before heading back into the hotel. He just had to do it. He moved quickly, had no idea that he’d been seen, and stood at the end of the bed where she slept, his wand raised.

He felt as though he’d been standing there for hours when he thought he’d heard something, turning his attention from Abigail, to the spot where he’d heard the floorboards, cold grey eyes landing on the auror in front of him. He didn’t speak, didn’t know what to say - he hadn’t done anything. Not yet anyways, and yet now it seemed he had to choose which course to take. Being caught didn’t serve him well. He’d be laughed at for sure, so he had to find a way out of this situation… But how?

miss-aliceprewett-deactivated20

“Lumos,” she commanded firmly, her eyes adjusting quickly to the light and scanning the room. Her eyes landed on the masked figure, and her heart sank into her stomach. Part of her had hoped that this was just another false alarm, just kids wreaking havoc. But that mask confirmed everything. That mask that she hated with a burning passion, and by extension the person behind that mask.

Taking a step into the room, she controlled her breathing so her wand arm would not shake. She would no appear any bit weak in front of a Death Eater. She had trained and trained until every muscle of her body was sore, and her mind felt like it could not retain any more information or tactic. She would not let the others down. “Drop your wand and identify yourself,” she demanded of the masked figure. Wand still trained on the figure, she glanced over at the other person in the room.

It was young girl who could not have been much older than Alice herself. She looked so innocent, unable to defend herself against the man in the mask. Looking relatively unharmed and breathing normally, she was relieved to think that she had gotten to the scene in time, that he had not hurt the girl yet. Her attention refocused on the person her wand was trained on. He had not spoken when she told him to, and his wand was still firmly on his person.

“Drop your wand, and identify yourself,” she repeated, her voice getting louder and bit more confident than before. She took a few steps closer to him, still far enough way that she could dodge any curses he might through at her.

Despite having gone through scenarios, this was the first time she had ever faced a Death Eater in action. Normally, she was casing places like Knockturn Alley or shadowing a suspected Death Eaters. This was her true test. Did she have what it took to take this person in, without anyone in the room getting harmed?

rexulus-blaxk-blog

The auror had instructed him to drop his wand and identify himself, though she clearly seemed like she didn't expect him to do it. Of course she didn't. He was a Death Eater - Or at the very least he looked like one. He hadn't caused any mayhem here, though he was sure she thought shed arrived just in the nick of time. She had no way of knowing that he'd had more than enough time to murder the girl in the bed a dozen times over. He was soft. He hated himself for it. Here he'd come out to the middle of nowhere so that he'd have the chance to take his time and get through it on his own, to be able to back, and at seventeen years old tell his peers that he'd done it, that he was worthy, and it seemed as though things weren't going to go his way, all because of some Muggle named Abigail who studied history, and his mistake in taking the long route, earning her trust beforehand

That was a mistake that he wouldn't make the next time an opportunity like this presented itself. That was assuming he managed to get himself out of this situation. The last thing any auror would have expected from a death eater was cooperation, but it still left him wondering what story he would have to concoct to convince her that he was innocent. At this point, he had committed no crime, but he'd have a hard time convincing her of that. He let his wand arm shake when she demanded his cooperation again, and then the idea had struck him, and he let it play out before weighing any other options.

He dropped his wand, and immediately let himself crumple to the ground as well, taking a gasping breath and removing the silver mask, eyes darting around the room before letting them fall back on the auror. He raised one hand - the one nearest his wand - as if in surrender, and closed his eyes for a moment. “Can you tell me where I am? I don't know… The last thing I remember I was shopping for a new broom…” He trailed off, glancing back over at Abigail, who was turning in her sleep, no clue how lucky she was to still be able to do that. “Who is that girl? Who are you? How did I get here?”

He had a dozen more questions to ask the auror, all of which he already knew the real answers to, but he wasn't going to give those up, he was going to maintain his ignorance, and pretend as though he'd been under imperius until he was safely back home and in his own bed. He could prove his value to the cause another day, because there wasn't a chance in hell that he was going to let her drag him off to prison.

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