unforgivablle

[unforgivablle]

𝐟𝐭. 𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀

where: diagon alley

when: the 25th of september, 1984

who: open!

It had been three days since the festival had started and over those three days, Zaria hadn’t seen hide nor hair of what she considered to be the star attraction of the whole thing. Her hair was red today, a fun little quirk she thought fit the season and her burgeoning frustration quite well. The idea of being around so many people had been exciting, though, and the rush of joy the mere idea of being involved with the bustle and action of human activity, never mind all the gossip, had been enough to provide a second reason to attend. However, it had been three days and there was still no sign of where Señor Dominguez and his deliciously on-trend fall collection was.

It was starting to be a bit of a sore subject with Zaria.

Desperate times, of course, require desperate measures, and the urgency of it all was starting to really sink in. Zaria could only imagine how many rare signature pieces she had missed out on, how many beautiful dresses she would have paid a fortunate for that would have already walked away. It was, frankly, upsetting and the absolute last thing she had been hoping for when she decided to attend.

Therefore: desperate measures needed to be taken.

Walking over to the first person she saw, Zaria politely coughed, before greeting them with her brightest smile. “Hello,” she tittered, “have you seen Señor Dominguez? I am in desperate need of his newest collection, and I’ve heard from of the spells woven into the pieces are simply incredible.” The light, airy affectation she had adopted dropped, and she looked at the other person firmly. “I need to see them. So, have you seen them?”

After two days of appearances, Daisy was entirely ready to have the festival to herself. She was, of course, grateful for the opportunities that the sudden popularity of her book had created, but they had never been the type to run on a constant social battery, and by the afternoon of the first day, the appearance had felt like more of a chore then a choice. Most of the people who had come to visit her ( MOST ) were lovely and considerate and seemed genuine fans of her work, and their excitement was enough to give some truth to her smile, but then at times it had felt performative, like she needed to smile simply to get through the day ─ even if she was exhausted.

But now, on the fourth day that Diagon Alley had been decorated for Autumn, Daisy had no one to impress but themself. With a weight of gold in their pocket, they were thrilled for the opportunity to support the businesses that kept the streets of Wizarding London alive, and had every intent on going back to their aunts home with treats to fill their mother until she was stuffed. Three bags were already slung across Daisy’s arms by mid-afternoon, and the smile that graced her features was anything but performative ─ she loved this time of year.

It was outside a small tea shop that someone noticed her for the first time. Having spent most of the day to herself, Daisy thought perhaps she had refilled her social battery, and with a deep breath, she prepared herself to answer any question the young girl might have. But instead of a question about Daisy, the redhead inquired about the main event of the festival. With a small sense of relief, Daisy smiled gently to respond, caught off-guard only momentarily as the question turned quite serious. “ I do believe he is just around this corner and to the left. I’ve heard the collection is quite wonderful, I was thinking of having a look for myself. Shall we walk there together? ”

#daisy | ❛ words dripping like honey. ❜ ( replies. ) #daisy | ❛ zaria. ❜ ( 001. ) #daisy | ❛ zaria. ❜ ( ft. )

[unforgivablle]

𝐟𝐭. 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐒.

Diagon Alley

September 23rd, 1984

Open Starter

His shift at Flourish and Blotts had been especially busy this afternoon. A prolific novelist had come into the store to do a book reading and appearance, bringing in many young fans of the authors work. Remus had always looked forward to the interactive events at the book store, seeing people gather over one specific or niche interest was magical to him.

Once he clocked out, his brown leather boots hit the cobblestone path of Diagon Alley. His dark eyes scan the events of the street, pupils focusing in on a puppet show being performed in front of a tea shop. Remus is familiar with the show, after all they hadn’t changed the storylines of the plays since he was a boy. The wizard rests against the brick facade of the tea shop, watching the puppets with a little grin, he lets his mind wander to a simpler time. He’s knocked out of his daydream when another adult bumps into him, he looks up at them with an apologetic smile.

“My bad.”

x

Daisy would be lying if she said public appearances weren’t exhausting. When they’d agreed to come to Flourish and Blotts, they had thought it would be something more of a simply signing, but instead, Daisy had spent most of the day with her game face on, reading chapters from her book and meeting as many fans as she could. Fans. She still wasn’t used to the idea that she could have FANS, that people would come just to see them, especially when there was so much on offer at the festival. It had been months since the release, and still My Year as a Muggle sat proudly at the front of most bookstores she walked by, with Daisy’s own smiling face sitting on a poster next to it. Of course she would have fans ─ but the months didn’t make the smiling facade any less exhausting to keep him.

It was evening by the time they were released, allowed finally to wonder the streets of Diagon Alley to enjoy the festival for themselves. It was still just as busy, of course, with plenty to see, and Daisy is hardly watching where she’s going as she strolls along the cobblestone paths. It was only inevitable that she should bump into someone, and immediately a slew of apologies fell from their mouth as they helped to steady the other. “ I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going, I should really pay closer attention, oh goodness, are you alright? S’not your bad at all the cause was all mine. ” Once the words stopped tumbling from her mouth, Daisy realised who it was she had run into. “ Oh, Remus, yes? You were the gentleman helping me with my appearance at Flourish and Blotts. You’re wonderfully patient in such a busy time. I meant to thank you, actually. ”

#daisy | ❛ words dripping like honey. ❜ ( replies. ) #daisy | ❛ remus. ❜ ( 001. ) #daisy | ❛ remus. ❜ ( ft. ) #your gif had a Freak Out on me im so sorry i lost it dhsajkgl

[unforgivablle]

They called her naive for believing in the good in people. But she was just a loving soul, who thought that even monsters needed someone, who truly believed, they were angels once and they can be it again. And yes, maybe that was naive, but this world needed people like her.

Veronika Jensen (via lovelustquotes)

#daisy | ❛ kind people are forged in imploding stars. ❜ ( musing. ) #q

[unforgivablle]

can you die from lack of affection? Asking for myself

#daisy | ❛ kind people are forged in imploding stars. ❜ ( musing. ) #q

[unforgivablle]

She survived whatever happened; she forgave; she became.

W.H. Auden, “The Model” (via thegilmoregirlsrp)

#daisy | ❛ kind people are forged in imploding stars. ❜ ( musing. ) #q

[unforgivablle]

#daisy | ❛ kind people are forged in imploding stars. ❜ ( musing. ) #q

[unforgivablle]

#daisy | ❛ kind people are forged in imploding stars. ❜ ( musing. )

[unforgivablle]

some  of  the  kindest  souls  i  know  have  lived  in  a  world  that  was  not  so  kind  to  them.  some  of  the  best  human  beings  i  know  have  been  through  so  much ,  and�� they  still  love  deeply ,  they  still  care.  sometimes ,  it’s  the  people  who  have  been  hurt  the  most  who  refuse  to  be  hardened  in  this  world.

ϟ  ━  was  that  LAI HÉNG LIN / DAISY HOOKUM  around  the  leaky  cauldron  ?  SHE  disapparated  before  i  could  approach  them  !  what  a  pity,  for  they  are  BENEVOLENT  and  SELFLESS,  but  maybe  it's  best  to  keep  my  distance  because  they  are  also  FICKLE  and  DELICATE.  i  remember  that  they  were  a  RAVENCLAW  back  in  school  but  have  since  made  a  name  for  themselves  as  an  AUTHOR.  if  this  alleged  war  came  knocking  on  their  door,  it  is  supposed  that  they  would  REMAIN NEUTRAL.  (  demi girl  &  she/they  /  jessie mei li  /  twenty-five  /  halfblood  ).

CHARACTER  PARALLELS:  giselle  ( enchanted ) ,  laurel  castillo  ( how  to  get  away  with  murder ) ,  charles  boyle  ( brooklyn  nine-nine ) ,  chidi  anagonye  ( the  good  place ) ,  juliet  capulet  ( romeo  &  juliet )  LINKS:  pinterest ,  stats TRIGGER  WARNING:  parental  illness / death ,  depression ,  homophobia ,  transphobia ,  racism ,  death  threats

                   follow  the  link  to  daisy’s  intro

#daisy | ❛ a vision in the morning. ❜ ( character study. ) #principium.intro #intro.

[unforgivablle]

tag dump !

#all | ❛ tell me what you want to hear. ❜ ( ask meme. ) #daisy | ❛ you carry the heavens in your eyes. ❜ ( visage. ) #daisy | ❛ kind people are forged in imploding stars. ❜ ( musing. ) #daisy | ❛ a child of the universe. ❜ ( aesthetic. ) #daisy | ❛ the work of shooting stars. ❜ ( edit. ) #daisy | ❛ i am lightning and starlight. ❜ ( misc. ) #daisy | ❛ a vision in the morning. ❜ ( character study. ) #daisy | ❛ eyes full of dreams heart filled with love. ❜ ( answered. ) #daisy | ❛ be careful with my petals. ❜ ( wanted connection. ) #daisy | ❛ how rare and beautiful it is that we exist. ❜ ( character parallels. ) #daisy | ❛ when you dream do you dream of the stars. ❜ ( mentions. ) #daisy | ❛ words dripping like honey. ❜ ( replies. )

[unforgivablle]

𝐟𝐭. 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐀

𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 :  regulus black ( @unforgivablle ) 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 : the square in diagon alley. 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 : 22nd of september of 1984. 

her memories of regulus are all sort of outdated. while she could see sirius all too well roaming around her shop with his wicked grin, a hand going through his far too long hair ( she has begged him to cut it how many times now ? ) and the other on a vial or two, hoping she will not notice when it goes missing, all she sees of regulus is that sweet cheeked infant that barfed on her christmas dress — mother had thrown quite a fit, and kreecher had hurried to take the baby away from her while their own elf wiped her up; in that very evening, she had went to regulus’ nursery and whispered that it was not his fault and, if anything, he did make her night. the last she had seen him had been at dinner on the first night of vacation for the boys, over ten years ago. by then, he was still moderately plump and only moderately sweet ( there is only so much sweetness one can retain under their household, after all ), but he had been a child regardless.

the man she sees now is not a child. taller than her, he bears little semblance to sirius — she is very uncomfortable to notice that he, instead, resembles both father and uncle orion far more, with a tightness in his posture that is all too familiar to her ( after all, hadn’t she walked just in the same manner? dreading to step out of the way. had she stayed in the ministry, regulus’ job would be hers. the thought alone is horrifying, and it is worse to think just what sort of thing regulus has been exposed to under her father ).

shuddering gently, she snaps out of a daze, blinking as she removes her gaze from her cousin to the list of names in the clipboard she holds onto just a bit too tight. there’s at least a dozen of names on the list, a number that is perhaps daunting as she considers how she will have to separate groups not to cause an explosion too big in the square, though despite it all, andromeda would be willing to add one more.

“you could take part of the potion contest, if you’d like.” the confidence in her voice is entirely fabricated, but the smile on her lips as she tentatively approaches her cousin is genuine. “i can waive the age rules for you.” she taps her nails on the clipboard for emphasis, purposefully ignoring how silly it was to ask a twenty and something to participate in a competition for children — something that, on its own, is all too telling of how she perceives regulus. “even a ministry official should have some fun in this festival.”

💀

she didn’t know him. far, far from it. it was clear in the way she looked at him, the way she spoke to him. when andromeda looked at regulus, she saw a boy that was a foot shorter, twelve years younger, and full of a youthful optimism that had not yet been burned from him. that was an unfortunate happenstance that she had brought upon herself. regulus might have stood taller, but she took careful consideration to ensure she spoke down to him, and if he hadn’t been so furious of the reminder of her leaving, he might have felt some comfort in it. ( after all, wasn’t this exactly why he had drifted to her sister in the first place? when narcissa looked at regulus, he wanted to be the child she had once known. expectation didn’t weigh so heavy when you were eleven years old and freshly introduced to the world. such a young boy, not yet exposed to the true harsh reality of connection with others. with narcissa, he went back, back, back. ) andromeda had done nothing to earn the right.

his spine felt stiff, impossibly straight as he built himself higher, daring her to see him up and not down. how DARE she see him as he was ? a blinding reminder of the fact that she left. abandoning one’s family was of the highest betrayal, and the thought alone lit regulus’ shrivelled heart on fire, burning him from the inside out. he’d always been irritable, but the fury he felt now was incomparable. ( only one comparison. if his eyes found his brother. ) years of biting his tongue came to him like training, and though he felt as though his insides were being torn to pieces, he remained impossibly still, a neutral expression gracing his features. he wouldn’t allow her the pleasure of knowing the effect she had on him. 

“i’m not here for myself,” he replied, his tone cool as ice and unwavering. “i’m sure you're aware of some other ways a ministry official such as myself could be entertained. so no, i am not here to put my name down.” for the first time since he’d entered the square, regulus pulled his eyes away from his cousin, surveying what was on offer. “what do you have that would be suitable for a young girl? a child.” a real child. andromeda’s own niece, to perhaps be more precise, though regulus kept that part to himself ─ for now. 

#regulus | ❛ he plays with fire because he wants to be burnt. ❜ ( replies. ) #regulus | ❛ andromeda. ❜ ( 001. ) #regulus | ❛ andromeda. ❜ ( ft. )

[unforgivablle]

𝐟𝐭. 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐍𝐀

    (   *      ──     𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬  𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞  𝐨𝐟  𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫  𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬  the  kind  of  horror  stories  that  ,  in  aleyna’s  mind  ,  pale  in  comparison  to  the  reality  of  pureblood  children  ──  her  own  reality  ,  where  every  intake  of  breath  was  controlled  .  under  constant  scrutiny  ,  she  grew  under  the  gaze  of  beings  who  seemed  to  descend  from  basilisks  .  their  eyes  lethal  and  their  teeth  sharp  as  fangs  ,  she  was  raised  as  their  own  ──  yet  aleyna  has  never  carried  the  grandeur  and  sharpness  that  would  mirror  strength  .  she  is  an  untold  ghost  story  ,  if  she  is  any  tale  at  all  .

   (   *      ──     𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬  ,  𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫  ,  𝐢𝐬  𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞  𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲  to  end  up  as  a  character  in  any  story  than  she  is  ──  he  is  far  more  noteworthy  than  somebody  who  willingly  fades  into  the  background  as  well  as  she  does  ;  a  thestral  in  the  night  ,  a  white  swan  in  the  snow  .  little  swan  ,  her  feathers  mimic  the  scene  behind  her  so  well  one  would  think  her  just  another  pureblood  lady  .  ❝  well  …  that’s  quite  rude  ,  to  be  frank  ,  ❞  she  replies  ,  a  furrow  in  her  brow  at  the  response  ──  they’ve  been  distant  for  a  bit  now  ,  yet  the  chasm  where  there  was  one  friendship  still  stuns  her  .  ❝  i  was  trying  to  be  nice  .    yet  apparently  ,  i  am  the  only  one  preoccupied  with  niceties  ──  whether  it  is  meaningful  or  out  of  polite  obligation  .  and  i  would  like  to  think  that  i  could  pull  off  feathers  .  ❞

      ──    regulus ,   ever  the  young  boy  to  make  his  parents  proud ,   was  quite  apt  when  it  came  to  holding  his  tongue .   if  there  was  any  lack  of  niceties ,   then ,   it  must  have  been  well-deserved .   of  course ,   in  the  eyes  of  a  man  who  had  been  raised  more  snake  then  boy ,   it  was  much  easier  to  tell  when  someone  was  more  deserving  of  cruelty  then  not .   when  it  came  to  miss  macmillan ,   it  was  almost  a  flip  of  a  coin  how  regulus  would  perceive  her .  friends ,   drifting  on  paths  that  crossed  and  paths  that  strayed  ─  though  it  was  reasonable  to  assume  their  paths  had  strayed  further  than  ever  before .   the  unwillingness  displayed  by  aleyna  to  care  for  the  cause  they  had  been  brought  up  on  was  a  crack  that  had  opened  a  canyon  between  them .   it  seemed ,   then ,   that  they  were  fundamentally  different  people ,   if  she  could  not  devote  herself  to  that  which  was  all-consuming  for  regulus .   a  lack  of  want  made  her  entirely  deserving  of  regulus’  quick  tongue . 

           though ,   of  course ,   regulus  knew  better  than  to  leave  that  sitting  between  them ─  he  was  a  politician  at  heart ,   and  with  a  sickly  sweet  smile ,   he  looked  back  up  at  his  old  friend .  “  was  it ?  oh ,   i  do  apologise ,   that  was  never  my  intention .   i  truly  do  believe  you .   a  feather  would  suit  you  well .  ”  the  words  were  laced  with  honey  and  venom ,   as  most  words  from  his  lips  were .  “  if  you  would  like ,   i  could  even  introduce  you  to  our  dear  senōr .  i’m  sure  he’d  be  delighted  to  meet  you .   such  a  lovely  man .  ”  a  snobbish ,   rude ,   snapping  old  man .   lovely ,   if  it  suited  regulus’  narrative . 

#regulus | ❛ he plays with fire because he wants to be burnt. ❜ ( replies. ) #regulus | ❛ aleyna. ❜ ( 001. ) #regulus | ❛ aleyna. ❜ ( ft. ) #gaslight gatekeep girlboss x

[unforgivablle]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞:  a  pub  in  knockturn  alley

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧:  june,  1980

𝐰𝐡𝐨:  @hereditament​

       ──    𝒊𝒕’𝒔  𝒔𝒐  𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅  𝒊𝒏  𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 .   busy ,   and  buzzing ,   and  utterly  full  to  the  brim .   drinks  are  in  constant  pour ,   with  the  warm  sting  of  whiskey ,   gin  and  butterbeer  filling  each  patron’s  throat ,   and  regulus  battles  with  the  excitement  and  the  terror  that  the  small  room  provides  him .   he’s  celebrating ,   in  some  way  ─  he’s  finished  seven  years  of  schooling ,   what  isn’t  there  to  celebrate ?  but  the  congestion  is  stifling  and  each  body  that  hits  him  is  another  hitch  in  his  throat .   regulus  was  used  to  parties ,   but  he’d  always  been  fond  of  the  corners .   there  was  no  corner  in  here  to  hide ,   only  more  bodies .  practice ,   he  sneered ,   drowning  his  liver  in  another  shot  of  firewhiskey .   he  was  going  to  celebrate ,   no  matter  how  little  his  heart  was  in  it . 

       but  it  was  through  the  bustle  of  the  crowd  that  someone  familiar  wove ,   and  celebration  was  soon  to  be  overwhelmed  by  pain ,   nostalgia ,   and  RAGE .   regulus  black  had  not  seen  his  brother  for  two  years .   when  sirius  had  graduated ,   they  hadn’t  even  said  goodbye .   there  was  no  need .   there  hadn’t  been  a  hello  in  months  at  that  point .   two  years  is  an  awfully  long  time  to  miss  the  face  of  someone  you  thought  you  knew  so  well .   it  is  an  eternity ,   and  it  is  no  time  at  all .   regulus  saw  only  a  glimpse  of  the  eyes  he  could  recognise  in  his sleep ,   and  he  thought  perhaps  the  whiskey  he’d  just  downed  was  going  to  make  its  way  back  up .   the  room  was  hotter ,   and  colder ,   and  busier ,   and  emptier .   it  was  full  to  the  brim ,   and  it  was  just  the  two  of  them .   what  the  fuck  was  he  doing  here  ?

       he  wouldn’t  give  him  the  chance  to  find  out .   sirius  black  had  no  right  to  crash  the  celebratory  party  thrown  in  honour  of  the  class  of  1980 .   he  was  not  invited ,   and  he  was  not  wanted .   regulus  didn’t  want  him  here .  (  oh ,   but  he  did .   he  wanted  him  in  every  room .   no  celebration  was  complete  without  fraternity .   brotherhood  is  eternal .   )  with  a  butterbeer  clasped  firmly  in  his  hand ,   regulus  wove  his  way  away  from  the  bar ,   suddenly  grateful  for  the  mass  of  bodies  even  if  their  heat  stung .   they  were  a  barrier  between  brothers ,   and  regulus  would  be  damned  if  sirius  crossed  it .   pushing  past  drunken  graduates ,   regulus  sought  out  his  friends ,   grinning  with  his  usual  falsity  and  slapping  a  former  slytherin  on  the  back  as  he  rejoined  them .   “  how’re  we  doing ,   boys ?  ”  he  yelled  over  the  buzz  of  the  crowd .   sirius  would  get  the  message ─  he’d  been  seen ,   and  he  wasn’t  wanted .   it  was  time  he  left .  he  did  that  so  well .  

#regulus | ❛ he plays with fire because he wants to be burnt. ❜ ( replies. ) #regulus | ❛ sirius. ❜ ( 001. ) #regulus | ❛ sirius. ❜ ( ft. ) #regulus | ❛ 1980. ❜ ( timeline. ) #this is so chaotic dhsjaklg let me know if i should change anything tho </3 #anxiety tw #drinking tw

[unforgivablle]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞: malfoy manor

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧: the night before the festival begins

𝐰𝐡𝐨: @purcs​​​

        ──    𝐢𝐧  𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬’  𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 ,   the  festival  was  purity  personified .   childhood  naivety ,   skipping  through  stalls  and  sucking  on  caramel  apples ,   play  and  fun  oozing  from  every  corner  of  diagon  alley .   the  memories  attached  to  this  time  of  year  were  strong ,   and  the  busy  week  regulus  had  so  far  endured  did  nothing  to  reflect  the  innocent  joy  he  usually  felt .  (  senõr  domínguez  had  proved  himself  to  be  a  difficult  snob  of  a  man  in  the  day  they  had  spent  together .   cygnus  had  wielded  a  stronger  fist  then  ever  before  when  it  came  to  the  importance  of  the  purity  of  the  festivities .   paperwork  had  mounted  so  high  on  the  small  desk  regulus  called  an  office  outside  cygnus’  true ,   four-walled  office ,   that  he  could  barely  see  over  the  top  of  it .  ) and  though  the  festival  had  yet  to  even  begin ,   there  was  a  wish ,   in  regulus’  mind ,   to  save  it .   and  what  could  better  personify  innocent  purity  then  malfoy  manor ?

        it  was  with  a  soft  smile  reserved  for  very  few  that  regulus  pushed  through  the  gates  of  the  grand  estate ,   coming  to  a  stop  at  the  large  doors  and  knocking ,   gently ,   three  times .   it  was  only  a  moment  before  the  small  elf  known  as  dobby  opened  the  door ,   followed  closely  by  the  shining  beauty  of  narcissa ,   coming  to  greet  her  younger  cousin .   with  the  small  smile  growing  in  size ,   regulus  shifted  the  leather  strap  of  his  bag  on  his  shoulder ,   stepped  around  the  elf  and  wrapped  both  arms  around  the  blonde ,   enveloping  her  in  a  tight  hug .  “  it’s  so  wonderful  to  see  you ,   cissy ,  ”  he  spoke  in  way  of  greeting ,   stepping  back  to  press  a  kiss  to  both  her  cheeks .  “  i  cannot  thank  you  enough  for  allowing  me  to  stay  with  you  this  week .   kreacher  assures  me  that  an  arrangement  of  flowers  is  on  its  way  as  a  token  of  my  appreciation .  ”  regulus  craned  his  neck  to  try  and  peer  into  the  room  just  off  from  the  hall .  “ is  my  dear  goddaughter  around ?  i’ve  brought  something  for  her ,   perhaps  something  we  can  play  with  if  you  and  lucius  wanted  the  evening  to  yourselves .   though  of  course ,   i  would  never  say  no  to  a  warm  dinner  with  the  two  of  you .  ”

#regulus | ❛ he plays with fire because he wants to be burnt. ❜ ( replies. ) #regulus | ❛ narcissa. ❜ ( 001. ) #regulus | ❛ narcissa. ❜ ( ft. ) #regulus with anyone else: silence #regulus with narcissa: i am going to talk so goddamn much.......

[unforgivablle]

ft. ALEYNA

𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀     *     ─     open  ​​.

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻     *     ─     diagon  alley  .

𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗲     *     ─  anyone  !

     (   *      ──     𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐥  𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐱  𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥  drawing  closer  ,  aleyna  slowly  walks  down  diagon  alley  observing  buildings  that  will  soon  be  adorned  with  decorations  .  admittedly  ,  she  does  not  enjoy  the  festival  ──  not  when  expectations  weigh  heavy  upon  shoulders  kept  alive  by  blood  of  silver  &  gold  .  grace  woven  into  limbs  ,  indifference  painted  across  features  that  wish  to  smile  ,  she  recalls  being  a  child  and  longing  to  run  as  hands  held  her  back  and  urged  her  to  keep  her  shoulders  straight  .  she  spots  a  known  figure  and  cannot  help  herself  ,  however  ──  approaching  them  to  make  conversation  ,  pushing  herself  to  defeat  her  introversion  in  the  name  of  polite  socialization  .  a  lady  .  ❝  enjoying  the  preparations  ?  i  have  to  admit  ,  i’m  looking  forward  to  buying  something  from  señor  domínguez’  new  collection  .  yourself  ?  enchanted  candles  or  pumpkins  ?  ❞

💀

     ──  the  upcoming  festival  was  marked  with  many  a  memory  for  regulus   ─   trailing  after  sirius  as  they  tried  to  buy  as  much  candy  as  could  fit  in  their  pocks  ;  clinging  to  andromeda’s  hand  as  a  boy  and  watching  in  awe  as  the  decorations  lit  up  the  alley  ;  holding  his  baby  goddaughter  close  to  his  chest  and  feeling  warmth  wash  over  his  chest  at  the  pure  joy  in  her  shining  eyes .   the  autumnal  equinox  festival  was  sweet  nostalgia  and  sentiment ,   a  time  where  nothing  could  taint  the  precious  memories ,   not  even  the  harsh  realities  of  the  present .   this  year ,   though ,   had  been  different   ─   it  had  been  work .   not  quite  the  warm  comfort  of  festivities  past .  

   regulus  had  only  just  left  señor  domínguez  in  the  hands  of  a  chef  for  a  lunch  break  in  their  tour  of  this  years  vendors  when  aleyna  approached  him .   regulus’  eyes  shot  up  from  the  parchment  he  was  scratching  at ,   marking  off  the  vendors  they  had  seen  and  the  vendors  they  had  yet  to  see ,   a  furrowing  brow  creasing  his  forehead  as  she  spoke .  “  i’m  rather  busy ,   aleyna ,   ”  he  remarked  absently ,   looking  back  down  at  his  work .  “  i  can  tell  you  that  señor  domínguez  seems  quite  excited  about  his  collection ,   though  ─   if  you’re  brave  enough  to  bother  him ,   then  i’m  sure  a  ridiculous  feathered  hat  would  suit  you  well .   ”

#regulus | ❛ he plays with fire because he wants to be burnt. ❜ ( replies. ) #regulus | ❛ aleyna. ❜ ( 001. ) #regulus | ❛ aleyna. ❜ ( ft. )

[unforgivablle]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞: illegal Drug Dealing spot in knockturn alley 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧: september 14th, late evening 𝐰𝐡𝐨: @eachgrief​​ / tarquin mctavish

There were very few that knew of Regulus’ vices. On the shiny and flawless exterior, a Black was toujours pure, there was not a speck of blood pumping through their veins that was tainted, innocence was key for a mastery of strength. Of course beyond the silver display, there was always something dark and rusted, and though any Black would shudder to have a muggle taint their blood, they would turn a blind eye to let the cool escape of drugs and alcohol take hold. They were polluted in a much different way to that which they preached, but it would ruin them for the masses to know that the pure and virtuous House of Black partook in such disgusting habits. 

For Regulus, a sip of champagne and a glass of gin and tonic was enough to get him through the stifling straight-laced parties he would attend, but on the days when things got too much, when he felt like he was drowning and when he couldn’t feel a damn thing, he needed something stronger. He’d built a relationship with the sick and battered disgraced pureblood years ago, when he was nothing more then a fresh-faced graduate with the weight of the world just waiting to transfer to his shoulders. It was a relationship he himself was disgusted by, a shame tucked deep into his conscious, and he knew he would be ruined if anyone found out, but still he kept coming back, slipping gold coins into the smuggler’s pockets in the dark corners of Knockturn Alley in exchange for the sweet taste of hallucinogenic potions. He wasn’t quite addicted in every sense of the word ( or so he told himself ), he just knew by now that if ever wanted to feel something, this was the only way.

The sun had well set by the time Regulus apparated to the corner he’d become well acquainted with now. And there the dealer was, waiting for him just as they’d agreed -- a shiver ran down Regulus’ spine. There was still something for naively exciting about this. With a grim frown creasing his features, the young Black tossed a look around the alley before coming close to Tarquin. “What do you have for me this time? Make it good. Make it quick.”

#prejudice tw #drug tw #regulus | ❛ he plays with fire because he wants to be burnt. ❜ ( replies. ) #regulus | ❛ tarquin. ❜ ( 001. ) #regulus | ❛ tarquin. ❜ ( ft. ) #my favourite thing to do is Not edit these </3

[unforgivablle]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞: the ministry of magic 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧: september 20th, mid-afternoon 𝐰𝐡𝐨: @vance-emmeline​

A time of gathering in the Wizarding World of London was a time of great stress heavy workload for the First Chair of the British Council For the International Confederation of Wizards and his young assistant / protégé. Cygnus had been sure to stress to Regulus the importance of the upcoming Autumnal Equinox Festival for, what Regulus had estimated, was the sole purpose of appearing united to the remaining councils of the confederation. It was assumed that witches and wizards would come from all over Europe to bask in the bustling excitement of Diagon Alley dressed for festivities, and Cygnus was adamant that the smooth running of the festival would have a direct impact on the strength of Britain within the confederation ( sitting at the front, at the top, where they belonged ). Under the guidance of his Uncle, Regulus had been working closely with the various vendors and establishments that would be on the display at the festival, offering as many resources as he could to ensure the festival was the best they had put on.

It was an odd position to be in at times like these. With a smile and a strong hand, Regulus was assisting his Uncle to put on a grandiose display of unity during these troubling times during the day, and yet he would return to Grimmauld Place to discuss with his mother and father the next move they could make to make the times even more troubling. To wear the Black name proudly was to hold responsibility, both in front of and behind closed doors -- no matter if the responsibilities seemed to directly clash in aim. Of course, the young heir had become quite the master had balancing these expectations. His politician worthy smile hid any worry that those working within the Ministry might have wicked motives. 

With a roll of parchment tucked beneath his arm and a stack of documents balancing on his elbows, this politician worthy smile was put to good use when the doors to the elevator opened to reveal Emmeline Vance waiting for him. With a small nod, he greeted her, “Miss Vance,” before exiting the lift and marching straight for his Uncle’s office, knowing from experience that the journalist would be following him. Surely she’d be expecting a statement on the upcoming festivities, on their importance. Still looking directly forwards, Regulus spoke to Emmeline as if he were looking at her. “How can I help you today?”

#regulus | ❛ he plays with fire because he wants to be burnt. ❜ ( replies. ) #regulus | ❛ emmeline. ❜ ( 001. ) #regulus | ❛ emmeline. ❜ ( ft. )

[unforgivablle]

I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put into words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.

Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart (via amargedom)

#regulus | ❛ but his bones know something wonderful about darkness. ❜ ( musing. ) #q