رأس الثعبان

◆ Rabastan Lestrange ◆ رأس الثعبان 20 Death Eater Slytherin ◆ Head of the Serpent ◆

[edomsmagnificent]

the-rabastan-lestrange:

“Obviously.” And usually Rabastan would have left it at that. But it seemed that today was not one of those days and this man was not one of those men. Because instead of just letting him walk by, the locket around his neck pointed to the man and whispered: <That, There>. This forced the Lestrange to look back at the man and at the book he was hastily tucking away. As it turned out though, the other was just a little too fast at stuffing it away and so Rabastan found himself casting a nonverbal spell to cause tear in the cloth of bag. The book fell out and Rabastan looked down at it. “Goblin?” He sneered, “How applicable.”

Originally posted by lifeofvampirediaries

Dirk just barely knew the boy in passing. He was one of the Lestrange’s. Dirk looked down as his book fell out of his bag, grimacing at the tear. He couldn’t repair it with magic since it was still summer and was immediately annoyed. He sighed when the other picked it up. “A hobby of mine,” he admitted with a shrug. “May I have it back?”

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

Rabastan's snapped up and he smirked at the request for the book back. The level of politeness amused him and there was a part of him that wanted to see just far he could push the other in this politeness. It was also worth noting that if the sun was just a little lower in the sky, Rabastan's thoughts would have turned a shade more sinister. Then again, they still might.

"In a second. Maybe." He looked back down at the book. Goblin was not one of the languages he spoke and it wasn't really one Rabastan found interest in. Like he'd implied, it wasn't applicable and Rabastan only found interest in the applicable. Still, he held onto the book and let his fingers dully flip through the pages.

He glanced once more to the ripped bag and nodded at it - like he wasn't the reason it was ripped.

"You really should pay better attention to your surroundings."

[incorrectdeatheaterquotes]

They call themselves the Order of the Phoenix. What a bunch of a-holes.

Regulus (via lixnhearted)

[edomsmagnificent]

“Oh, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention,” Dirk gave an apologetic smile to the other. Stuffing his language book into his bag. “Sorry, again.”

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

“Obviously.” And usually Rabastan would have left it at that. But it seemed that today was not one of those days and this man was not one of those men. Because instead of just letting him walk by, the locket around his neck pointed to the man and whispered: <That, There>. This forced the Lestrange to look back at the man and at the book he was hastily tucking away. As it turned out though, the other was just a little too fast at stuffing it away and so Rabastan found himself casting a nonverbal spell to cause tear in the cloth of bag. The book fell out and Rabastan looked down at it. “Goblin?” He sneered, “How applicable.”

[albertonks]

Wha- oh. I didn’t see you there.

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

“You really shouldn’t be so unaware of your surroundings - that’s how people get hurt.”

[albertonks]

“I’m not generally afraid of being hurt while casually drinking in a quiet bar” He waited a moment for the strange man to walk away with his answer, but when he didn’t he cocked his head to the side in question. “Do you need something? Or are you just going to stand there and stare at me.”

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

"In that case you are far too trusting of humanity in general." Rabastan said lightly. It had been a while since he'd seen him, but Rabastan felt a small thrill at seeing the boy on a night like tonight. You see, Albert Tonks was the kind of person that was just a little too easy to fuck with. Granted, Rabastan hated when his prey was stupid but Albert managed to walk the fine line of being pliable and putting up a fight. Rabastan had watched him from across the bar for a few moments and he'd felt the pendant under his robes grow heavy at the promise of blood. In moments like those, Rabastan couldn’t tell whether or not his actions were his own or if they were brought on by the locket, but he’d long ago stopped questioning such impulses Rabastan had pushed off the wall he had been leaning against, a spring to his own step, and approached the young man. He'd swiped a drink from the bar for him. Now, he placed it down in front of Albert. "Need something? Nope. I'm just here for the meet cute." And with that, Rabastan sat in the stool next to the young wizard. The nice thing about the mind wipes was that Rabastan could be someone new each and every time or he could do the same thing over and over and over - and at the end of it all Albert would be none the wiser.

[albertonks]

Wha- oh. I didn’t see you there.

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

"You really shouldn't be so unaware of your surroundings - that's how people get hurt."

[nellietrelawney]

Rabastan Lestrange 

Requested by @thequeenoffear

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

[mystic-boys]

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

“Who me?”

[lixnhearted-blog]

the-rabastan-lestrange:

Rabastan liked to read people. It was a skill that was useful in almost everything, but it was particularly useful in his line of work. He found himself silently assessing others often and Regulus hadn’t been spared. But Rabastan had never thought of Regulus Black as something more than an interesting plaything and a duelling opponent. They’d duelled before - of course - and they’d grown up together as part of Pureblod society. But for all of Rabastan’s affinity for reading people and his general disregard for personal space (as was being proved in this very moment), the Lestrange found it very interesting that he’d never noticed this about Rabastan.  

There - right there. That fleeting look? It was electric. 

Well now. 

Rabastan took into account Regulus’ statue still stance and he felt a flash of amusement in his chest. Whatever button Regulus was desperately trying to avoid, Rabastan wanted to find it and push it. He had an inkling of what it could be, but he waited. No point in hasty conclusions. Not to mention - Rabastan was rather good at taking what he wanted and he wasn’t one to look back once he’d set down a path. 

He let out a low chuckle at Regulus’ insistence on ‘word-choice’ but said no more on the matter. He instead, focused on his hand that was still on the other man. Focused on not moving. Focused on leaning in. 

“So recalcitrant. Why am I just learning this about you?” 

Regulus Black tried to be a fly on the wall. Or, rather, he tried to know everything so that he could act accordingly. Not having the necessary knowledge for a given situation left him feeling alone and afraid. The only issue was that he needed to be allowed to go unobserved to achieve this. Around Rabastan he could never succeed. He felt the older man’s eyes follow his every minute movement.

Rabastan’s comment struck him as odd. “I am not recalcitrant, Rabastan. I just disagree with you right this moment.” He frowned up at his companion, a bit disappointed in his height. He was never very intimidating.

“Why must you be so facetious?”

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

Regulus wore his defiance so well and it was as strong an aphrodisiac as any potion. Honestly, Rabastan thought it was a goddamn miracle he hadn’t fucked the young Black yet. In the wake of the glance the other had offered, this was some fucking saint-like patience the Lestrange was showing. Sure, the tone had shifted at the drop of a hat mere seconds ago - but that’s who Rabastan was. He was used to taking what he wanted the literal second he wanted it and there was little reason not do so now. He supposed if he was going to be upfront about it, Rabastan wanted Regulus to snap first. He wanted the younger man whimpering for him, downright begging for him to take him, and the way Rabastan saw it - he might as well take the time to wait now because there was little chance for such self-restraint down the line.

“Don’t you know? It’s hereditary.”

He let his wand slip into his back pocket so that he could bring his other hand up to Regulus’ face. He cradled it in both hands. Their bodies were nearly flush now - but not quite. Again, he wanted to push Regulus into making the first move.

He leaned in closer.

“Or maybe I do it because I know you like it.”

[messr-black]

( the-rabastan-lestrange: )

“I don’t think you would care much for the ways I would make this party interesting… darling brother.” 

“What ways would that be, Rabastan?” he asked with a sigh.

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

“There would be a lot more blood or a lot more sex. Both. Ideally. But we all know about your prudish tendencies.” 

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

  Rabastan lit the end of his cigarette and took a slow drag.

“Now Travers, you know I don’t drink.”

And it was the truth. Rabastan didn’t drink unless it was a social event and he had Rodolphus there, breathing down his neck, telling him it was the fucking polite thing to do. The younger Lestrange was rather used to not having his body under his own control thanks the locket around his neck and so he never found the need to seek the sensation elsewhere.

Rabastan blew a ring of smoke towards the woman.

“It’s never been my job to entertain you and I don’t plan on starting now.” He didn’t say this unkindly, but instead with some air of teasing. 

“That said, the night’s still young. Maybe you’ll change my mind.” And this was said more like a jab. Like it was a long shot but he was humoring her. 

[tiedinanott]

“Ah, yes, you’d rather poison yourself with those smoke sticks.” Winter said, rolling her eyes as she took another sip of her drink.

Winter had never found the attraction to smoking that others did. Common sense told her that breathing in smoke was not good for someone, whether it was from a rolled paper with dried leafs, or a burning house.

The girl gave him an unimpressed look, waving the smoke out of her face.

“I’d rather not smell of stale smoke, thank you.”

“Oh please,” The girl said with a short laugh, “It’s everyone’s job. No one wants to see what happens when I get bored.” That’s when she became unbearable to handle.

Winter shrugged, “I’ve been known to drive people to drink.”

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

I’ve been known to drive people to drink.

“Why am I not surprised?” Rabastan said as he ashed his cigarette onto the ground in front of them. He’d made no motion to put away his cigarette when she’d said that she disliked the smell. 

“Remind me - is that how your boyfriend died?” He gave her a look that was anything but sparing. “Alcohol poisoning?”

Perhaps it was a low blow, but Rabastan had never been one for tact. He was more than aware of how Gavin had died and he wanted nothing more than to pick apart each one of the traitors responsible for the death of his comrades piece by piece. Still, Rabastan didn’t treat the subject of death as hallowed ground. That shit happened. Get over it. And if you could die for the cause? Even better.

He waved his wand so that the bottle poured Winter a drink on its own. He blamed the act on Rodolphus - his brother was constantly chiding him to be a politer person and sometimes the request stuck.

“So do I get to hear what you’ve been up to these days or do I have to guess?”

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

Rabastan’s eyes lit up with Samael’s words.

“Restraint! Ha! Hate the stuff. May I be the first to congratulate you for giving in.”

He twirled his wand in his fingers once before matching the other man’s stride.

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. You couldn’t have had had better timing. I have a few new spells that are just itching for a try.”

[temp-inactive-12-22-2016-deacti]

“Restraint separates us from animals, any animal can be reckless and tear things apart. Restraint is vital, but indulgence is a natural desire. So while I don’t condone recklessness I also observe it’s importance”. Sam’s jaw clenched lightly as the young man spoke again “You know that name bothers me. Sammy is a name for a  child. My name is not Sammy”.

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

“Then it’s a good thing your approval means little to me Sammy.” It was true that of all the people Rabastan knew, Samael was one of the few that he considered closer to ‘friend’ on the spectrum, but at the end of the day the youngest Lestrange was swayed by his own whims and his alone. Only the Dark Lord managed to break that pattern. 

“Really? I find it fitting. Just the right amount of softness to send you into a false sense of security.” Rabastan flashed him a grin. 

“Now do you plan on keeping our destination a surprise or do I at least get a hint?”

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

blackdaffodill:

Narcissa glanced down at the dead rabbit on the beautiful marble of her foyer, and bit her bottom lip, trying not to scream. It’s neck was snapped, and it stared up at her with  Damn him, he knew how much it bothered her. It always had, Rabastan had a habit of leaving surprises for her going back to when they were children. At Bella and Rodolphus’s wedding, there had been a dead mouse under her seat that had caused her to scream and earned her a harsh punishment from her father. She did not know why he did it, and Cissa was starting to suspect that he didn’t even have a reason, he just enjoyed harming defenseless and undeserving creatures. 

“Did you leave me a rabbit because that’s what I called you when we were children?” She asked, voice cold and much steadier than she felt. 

Rabastan cooly watched Narcissa’s face. The way people processed emotions was always fascinating to him, especially emotions like fear or surprise or terror. It was nice to see how these things played out across other faces’; it taught the young man what specifically to look for when he had the fighting end of his wand pointed against another. 

Rabastan couldn’t help but smile at Narcissa’s logic. It was a cold, creeping smirk that snuck across his face. He wondered if she was thinking about the past. The last time he’d done this was at his brother’s wedding. It had been much more entertaining that time around because Narcissa had shrieked. She didn’t shriek now, but Rabastan still found a pleasure in the deep look of unsettlement that flashed across her face.  

“No. I do it because I find it fun. But that reasoning is rather sweet. We can say that’s why, if it makes you…” his words dripped with false sympathy, “…feel better.” 

[blackdaffodill-blog1]

Narcissa did her best to keep her face cold, calm. She had a lot of practice, years of pretending not to hurt, not to feel. Schooling her face into a look of disinterest was second nature to her. Keep calm while your parents fight, keep still when your sister leaves you, keep that smile as you’re sold off in her place. It was a bit harder to hide her disgust when there was a corpse of a small animal bleeding out across her marble. Still, Cissa sneered at the younger boy then snapped her fingers, summoning an elf. 

“Get rid of it.” She snapped at the creature who quickly bowed then hurried to clean the mess. Narcissa took another breath then smiled just as coldly as Rabastan did. “Dear little Rabbit, I thought you outgrew this disgusting little habit. Pity. Now do you need something because I have better things to do than stand here and tolerate you.”

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

“Why would I outgrow something I enjoy so much?” Rabastan said, not caring much for the house-elf cleaning up the mess. The fun part was over anyway. Onto the next thing. He made no motions to move aside, instead let the creature work around him. He smirked at the demeanor Narcissa carefully painted on. She was always so measured.

“Hmm? Oh yes, there was something I was meant to tell Lucius. Rodolphus wanted me to pass on a message.” Rabastan lightly flicked his wand and a stream of harmless sparks emitted from the tip. “But I can’t seem to remember for the life of me Cissa. I suppose I’ll wait around till I remember.”

[lixnhearted-blog]

Dark Skies & Bright Stars

The first memory Regulus has with Rabastan is the pair of them at some pureblood event. He was following Sirius around and the children had all convened to try to be at least a tish childish at this rather adult event. As the two Black sons approached the group, Regulus noticed complaints about something “gross” and someone told Rab to “cut it out!” Sirius attempted to shield Regulus’ eyes too late, there was a bloody pile of fur inside the circle of pureblooded children. His stomach flipped, threatening to dispel the dinner he had just enjoyed at the gruesome sight. He wondered why the older boy had done such a thing. It was in that moment that the four-year-old felt concerned for Rabastan’s well-being against what was probably the child’s better judgement.

As the two grew up, Regulus wanted to be like Sirius but found that he couldn’t relate to Sirius due to the elder brother being the heir. He found solace in Rabastan’s triumphs, finding hope that, even as the second son, maybe he could achieve something. Maybe he could be like Rabastan, maybe he could be someone.

Once Regulus was at Hogwarts he tried to ignore his brother and forge his own path in the school within the house that he was meant to be a part of. He struggled to make friends his own age, having never had many playmates the same age as himself. Instead, during the first few years, he attempted to follow the older students around. Such as Narcissa and Rabastan. He had a feeling he was merely annoying them, but he couldn’t help himself.

It wasn’t until Regulus’ fourth year, Rabastan’s final, that he really realized why he felt so compelled to spend his time around the older male. The students in his year were already starting relationships, had been since the introduction of the Hogsmeade trips. Regulus, on the other hand, preferred not to go to the village as he tended to run into his brother and Sirius’ annoying group of friends there. It was as if the town shrunk around the self-proclaimed Marauders, trapping Regulus with them at every turn. This changed, however, when Rabastan asked Regulus to join him to shop for a new pair of winter gloves. It was going to be a quick trip and Regulus had been huddled in the common room as he usually did on Hogsmeade weekends. He agreed uncertainly but found that the way the brisk winter air stung Rabastan’s cheeks and gave them a flushed tint caused butterflies to rise in his stomach. He couldn’t help imagining what Rabastan’s chapped-from-the-cold lips would feel like against his own.

He avoided the second Lestrange son for about three weeks after the trip. He couldn’t bring himself to face Rabastan without developing a terrible stutter.

Once Rabastan was out of school and Regulus was forced to actually hang out with students his own age, he found that his attraction to the male gender was only growing whereas, try as he might, he couldn’t find himself fancying any girls he saw.

He has finally been able to keep a, mostly, calm exterior around Rabastan but finds that, at times, he still cannot control some of his reactions.

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

He’d worn the locket for as long as he could remember, but it wasn’t until his seventh Christmas that Rabastan was first subject to what would come to be known as “one of his little episodes.” He only remembers the before and after, but he’s heard the bits in between with a cold disinterest from his father. The before was this: running out to the woods behind the manor in the midst of a party the Greengrass’ were hosting. Footsteps crunching through fallen leaves and the smell of dirt. He’d killed his mother - that was the rumor of the evening. It was a fact he’d grown up with, but hearing it from someone other his brother or father was like a slap. How could he have? He was so young. Why would he do that? Surely, he’d only be better off with his mother around. But instead of saying any of that to the face of the party-goer, Rabastan had looked at the floor and scuffed it with the toe of his boot. “Maybe I did.” The part of him that believed it grew each day. Still, he had to run, so he found his way to the woods to just get away from it. The after was this: waking up in the sitting room, bloody rabbit has feet. Rabastan wasn’t sure how he got there, but everyone pointed to the blood on his hands.

Rodolphus’ shadow was oppressive. Even if he failed, Rabastan tried to always be “more” than his brother. If Rodolphus was loud, Rabastan was louder. If Rodolphus was cold-hearted, Rabastan was merciless. If Rodolphus was talented, Rabastan tore himself over being skilled. Wanting more than anything to avoid being classified as “Rodolphus’ brother” for the entirety of his school career, Rabastan took a stand by discretely applying to Durmstrang. He wrote an extensive letter to the Headmaster explaining why he was more than qualified to attend their institute. He wrote about the books he’d studied in his free time and his interest in the courses they’d offered. Rabastan didn’t really understand happiness till he saw his acceptance to the school in the beak of one snowy owl. His father didn’t share the same enthusiasm though and the bright of Rabastan’s eyes dimmed quickly. Hogwarts was a Lestrange tradition after all and Rabastan would be not be the one to break that tradition. So Rabastan was sorted into Slytherin in his 11th year of life and that was that.

It was hard not to draw the comparison between himself and Regulus Black - both of them were the younger heirs of imposing fortunes. However, it was a surprise that the two didn’t really cross paths till Hogwarts and when they did, Rabastan found Regulus to be incredibly annoying. To be fair though, Rabastan found just about everyone annoying and so all this really meant was that Regulus was just another insignificant soul.

He wasn’t supposed to feel love though. That’s what Rodolphus has told him anyway: cold child of a love potion, Rabastan was incapable of love. As it was something he was unable to obtain, Rabastan taught himself to look at the emotion in others with a certain impassiveness and always from a distance. That’s what he said to himself and others - ‘he didn’t want it anyway.’ Rabastan chalked up the tightening of his heart and the quirk of his lips around Regulus to lust. It was lust made him want to hold Regulus in the cold of Hogsmeade as they shopped for winter gloves one bleak afternoon. 

And then - all of a sudden - Regulus pulled himself away from his life. Rabastan told himself that it mattered little to him. There were other people and even people were not completely necessary. Still, Rabastan found himself thinking much about that trip to Hogsmeade. It always managed to find its way into his thoughts in the dead of night while he was in his dorm room. When Rabastan touched himself he thought of the way he wanted Regulus’ svelte body to move under his own and he allowed himself to think of the sounds the other boy would make if his cold lips met the crook of his hips if he took him right there in the snow.

When Rabastan left Hogwarts it was expected that he would see Regulus less. During this time, the rate at which Narissca found dead animals on her doorstep increased.

The lingering glances and the short breaths tell Rabastan everything he needs to know. While he still hopes to fuck Regulus into oblivion, Rabastan is empowered and amused by the knowledge that the other would love nothing more. As such, Rabastan has finally settled into a sort of friendship with the man. And that’s where they are now. 

@lixnhearted

[meiselr]

[the-rabastan-lestrange-blog]

ibuzoo:

1000 Picspams Challenge | #221 - Lestrange Brothers

@thegreatestlestrange

[lixnhearted-blog]

Dark Skies & Bright Stars

The first memory Regulus has with Rabastan is the pair of them at some pureblood event. He was following Sirius around and the children had all convened to try to be at least a tish childish at this rather adult event. As the two Black sons approached the group, Regulus noticed complaints about something “gross” and someone told Rab to “cut it out!” Sirius attempted to shield Regulus’ eyes too late, there was a bloody pile of fur inside the circle of pureblooded children. His stomach flipped, threatening to dispel the dinner he had just enjoyed at the gruesome sight. He wondered why the older boy had done such a thing. It was in that moment that the four-year-old felt concerned for Rabastan’s well-being against what was probably the child’s better judgement.

As the two grew up, Regulus wanted to be like Sirius but found that he couldn’t relate to Sirius due to the elder brother being the heir. He found solace in Rabastan’s triumphs, finding hope that, even as the second son, maybe he could achieve something. Maybe he could be like Rabastan, maybe he could be someone.

Once Regulus was at Hogwarts he tried to ignore his brother and forge his own path in the school within the house that he was meant to be a part of. He struggled to make friends his own age, having never had many playmates the same age as himself. Instead, during the first few years, he attempted to follow the older students around. Such as Narcissa and Rabastan. He had a feeling he was merely annoying them, but he couldn’t help himself.

It wasn’t until Regulus’ fourth year, Rabastan’s final, that he really realized why he felt so compelled to spend his time around the older male. The students in his year were already starting relationships, had been since the introduction of the Hogsmeade trips. Regulus, on the other hand, preferred not to go to the village as he tended to run into his brother and Sirius’ annoying group of friends there. It was as if the town shrunk around the self-proclaimed Marauders, trapping Regulus with them at every turn. This changed, however, when Rabastan asked Regulus to join him to shop for a new pair of winter gloves. It was going to be a quick trip and Regulus had been huddled in the common room as he usually did on Hogsmeade weekends. He agreed uncertainly but found that the way the brisk winter air stung Rabastan’s cheeks and gave them a flushed tint caused butterflies to rise in his stomach. He couldn’t help imagining what Rabastan’s chapped-from-the-cold lips would feel like against his own.

He avoided the second Lestrange son for about three weeks after the trip. He couldn’t bring himself to face Rabastan without developing a terrible stutter.

Once Rabastan was out of school and Regulus was forced to actually hang out with students his own age, he found that his attraction to the male gender was only growing whereas, try as he might, he couldn’t find himself fancying any girls he saw.

He has finally been able to keep a, mostly, calm exterior around Rabastan but finds that, at times, he still cannot control some of his reactions.

[incorrectmarauderquotes]

My brother married one jumpy bitch.

Rabastan Lestrange [about Bellatrix] (via incorrectmarauderquotes)