— is that TOM HOLLAND? no, it’s SIRIUS BLACK, but i can see how you would make the mistake. this TWENTY SIX YEAR OLD CIS MAN is a member of the HOUSE OF BLACK. word on the street is that they’re BOLD, RECKLESS AND ADVENTUROUS. i also heard that they’re particularly skilled with KNIVES AND CARS/DRIVING. they have always reminded me of LEATHER JACKETS, BRUISED KNUCKLES, UNFINISHED NOTES. if you ask me, they’re the kind of person who could change the game for everyone.

Regulus was never anything but the perfect, dutiful son. That was true today as well. He hadn’t needed to be told that punctuality was important. He hadn’t needed to be told to don the BLCK label suit that was delivered to his apartment. His preparedness was expected and taken for granted, a surety in a world where so much else could go wrong. The last time Regulus had bucked his parents expectations he had been seventeen and hardheadedly determined — they were just glad that his one rebellion hadn’t expanded into more. They were just glad he wasn’t more like Sirius. Sirius, bright and wonderful and as reckless as the day was long. Regulus didn’t need to ask to know that their father had laid down the law regarding tonight with his older brother. Sirius was here, and presentable, and that was all Orion could ask of him — though Regulus was sure that Walburga would have something to say about his posture. For all that Sirius can be a wildcard, Regulus is relieved when Sirius enters his space and takes a place beside him. Everything seems just a little bit safer when Sirius is in the room with him. “I’m never wrong.” Regulus agrees, dull. “The world would be a better place if everybody realised that.” He shoots Sirius a look, a careful arch of his brow. His brother was teasing him, and Regulus wasn’t sure if he was going to properly tease back yet. “You don’t look like you got dressed in the dark for once. Well done, brother dearest.”

   It was rare that Sirius was seen without a smile on his face. He knew that it irritated a lot of people in their family. Especially their parents. That only seemed to push him more to smile but the truth was that they should be happy when he’s smiling. It means things are okay. It means that he’s not on edge because if he isn’t smiling then that means something happened and another side of Sirius was seen but if he was being honest, he knew they preferred that side of him. The darkness that lingers underneath that not many people had seen yet. He preferred to keep it buried. He didn’t like how it made him feel. 

    “Oh, my apologies. I might have worded that wrong then. You’re right.” He looked around to make sure to take in all familiar and unfamiliar faces. Sirius has learned to always be on his guard, pin point every exit and always be ready. Despite what anyone may say, he’s learned a lot from what his father has said. It’s just not obvious to those who don’t know him. Someone else may just think he was just trying to find anyone else that he might know. His attention turned back to Regulus at his compliment. 

» 

      “I know that you’re stubborn and have ignored me when I say that I can get myself home safe.” The words came out of her mouth but Mary knew full well that she was very glad to have Sirius looking out for her. The only part that she hated was the reason why he did it. She had never wanted him to see her that way… to see her hurt but neither one had a choice in the matter. Same with knowing that her attacker was still roaming the streets and hiding around any corner.

     Mary pushed herself off the corner and hopped off the last step before she carried herself over to him. “Luckily for me Marlene probably has something waiting for me and between the two of you, I’d rather her cooking,” She smirked before she playfully bumped her shoulder against his. “Are you going to the thing at the hotel,” she asked and glanced over at him. “I heard whispers about it today on shift.”

open to — anyone & everyone

he liked the ministry hotel more than he really should have. it’s ornate edges and the aura of the place, all pomp and circumstances. it was the beating heart of their world, at least in London, the place where the rules and regulations of the Sacred Twenty-Eight culmunated in their power. Regulus liked the order of the place, the way that everything was perfectly aligned and perfectly organised behind the artful decor and the neutral-faced staff.

it should have been sad that they all had to gather there for this — but Regulus couldn’t actually bring himself to be sad for an old man that was practically ancient. all that Flamel ever did was flood the streets with liquid euphoria, and Regulus had never even let himself try it out of fear that he would love it too much. he didn’t much care that Flamel had died, and he cared even less if someone had decided to kill him. at least a good old fashioned murder might inject some excitement into his life.

he considered the memorial a waste of time, but the Black Family always had to put their best foot forward: so of course, Regulus is there. perfectly dressed, face perfectly schooled. “well, he had a good life.” Regulus muses, voice a little dull in a way that betrays his boredom.

tagged: @siriiusxblck​

     The sun was peeking through the windows and Mary MacDonald collected her leather jacket from her locker. She pulled it over sore shoulders and gently tugged the sleeves to her jumper through the opening of the arms of her jacket to get things to sit more comfortably. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes for a moment. The graveyard shift had been long, tiring, and draining. It was a miracle that she was still standing despite it all. When she was certain that she could make her body move, she shut the locker and started towards the employee exit. 

      Mary had no idea what told her that he was there. Maybe intuition from the sheer fact that this was the first time she had found him waiting. She stopped just on the last step and leaned her head forward to look around the corner with her curls bobbing around her. “You know,” she hummed and leaned her body against the wall corner between them, “if I didn’t know any better, I would think you like waiting for me to clock off.”