Bete Noire Application
1. Player Information
Name (or internet handle): Red
Current characters in Bete Noire: NA
2. Character Information
Name: Regulus Black
Livejournal Username: ablackestsheep
Fandom: Harry Potter
Image: Here
3. Character Information II
Age/Appearance: Regulus is 18 years old. His appearance is a mix of athleticism and luxury, a well-toned, lean build accompanied by perfectly manicured nails. He has (fashionably) semi-unkempt dark hair and blue eyes, along with the fine bone structure associated with pedigree and generations of more or less selective breeding. He stands at an average height of 5’ 8”.
History: Here. The link assumes a general knowledge of Harry Potter canon, if further world history is required please let me know! I will be taking Regulus from immediately after his death.
Personality:
As he is long dead when the series starts, I’ll be extrapolating Regulus’ personality based on what is given of him by other characters and his own choices and actions. What is known is that Regulus was the younger brother of the famous (or infamous) Sirius Black and, in their family, was considered to be the golden child. He hung newspaper clippings and photos of the Dark Lord Voldemort on his wall as a child, right next to banners of his family’s crest and the symbol of the Slytherin house. He adopted his parents ideals of pure-blooded supremacy and the idea that being of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black made one akin to wizarding royalty, and spent his school days, naturally in house Slytherin, eagerly awaiting the day he was old enough to become a full Death Eater. Like his brother, Regulus was also talented athletically, becoming the seeker for the house Quidditch team. He joined the Death Eaters when he was sixteen, adored his parents, and was, generally, much like Draco Malfoy in being a poster child for upcoming leaders of the pure-blooded world all through his years at Hogwarts.
For all the stereotypical behavior, however, Regulus was not a self-centered, ‘evil’ Slytherin and fanatic servant of the Dark Lord. Sirius himself describes his brother as ‘soft,’ and it took very little time for Regulus to discover that, while talking about purity and ancient tradition was all well and good, what the Dark Lord had in mind was far beyond anything he was willing to be a part of. The fact that it was, of all things, Voldemort leaving the Black family house elf to die that was the straw that broke the camel's back and drove Regulus to betray his master shows that for all his dark ways, Regulus had a good heart and cared deeply for the people around him, no matter the species. Regulus’ care and affection for the family house elf (a creature that even his brother Sirius hated and mistreated) was enough that, years later at the battle of Hogwarts, the elf led an attack against the Death Eaters in Regulus’ name.
Regulus is, to put it simply, a good son. He never really wanted to hurt anyone, he simply wanted to make his parents proud of him. This burden to be ‘the good child’ was only increased thanks to his brother, who seemed to go out of his way to rebel against the Black family in every possible manner throughout their childhood. Like the Malfoys, the Blacks were a family of breeding, class, and tradition, and Regulus lived up to these. While ‘lesser’ wizards were to be looked down on, it was done with an air of distaste and good form, rather than through inflicting physical terror or crude language. Regulus was, in short, a snob, but a behaved and well mannered one. He studied hard, performing well academically, though not with the casual genius of his older brother, played hard in quidditch, and, as all students, competed in trying to gain house points out of pride and love of his house. He was never one of the special students, Dumblebore never made any particular note or use of him, but he lead a happy, full life at Hogwarts as one of the wizards that personified what it was to be a pure, noble member of Slytherin.
His pride in his family and his blood wasn’t born out of hatred for muggleborns or anyone else, he was simply following tradition, as laid out for him by his family. The wizarding world had stood strong for countless generations because of tradition, after all, and his ancient bloodline is part of what has made that society great. What wasn’t there to be proud of? Regulus was far more a political conservative than some fanatic hatemonger, to him traditions exist for a reason and there’s no point to running around radically changing things in order to cater to the inferior muggle world. To Regulus, the Dark Lord was simply an icon of all this, of stopping foolish and reckless change simply for the sake of change and keeping the old, time-honored ways. Having this belief system made his family proud, his house proud, and promised to insure his place in the new world order once Voldemort took over. In short there was no reason not to become a Death Eater.
Until, of course, Regulus actually experienced what it was to be one at the tender age of 16. While his experiences in, and resulting betrayal of, the Death Eaters show Regulus’ more humane side, they also show his cunning Slytherin nature. Regulus was apparently at least considered trustworthy by the Dark Lord, despite his personal objections to the Death Eater methods. This can be seen as Regulus was not only privy to enough telling, personal conversations that he was eventually able to piece together that Voldemort was making horcurxes, Regulus was also asked a personal favor by the Dark Lord in lending out his house elf to test Voldemort’s defenses on one of these very items. This means that for two years Regulus played the role of a loyal, trustworthy Death Eater while at the same time hating his part in Voldemort’s plan to the point that he wished to see his former idol killed. He then devised a plan to retrieve the horcrux which, at the cost of his own life, succeeded so well that the theft was apparently never detected by Voldemort, who spent the rest of his days unaware that Regulus had betrayed him so completely. This act also showcased that pride ranked among the man’s vices, as he not only stole the horcrux and left a fake in it’s place, he left a rather eloquent ‘screw you’ letter to Voldemort, telling him exactly who had taken the horcrux, that he planned to destroy it and, though he knows he will be killed for it, that he does it all in the hope that it will help bring about Voldemort’s death. It wasn’t enough to help kill the Dark Lord, he wanted to make damn sure the man knew it.
This entire episode also showed that Sirius wasn’t the only brave and loyal Black son. Rather than simply fleeing the Death Eaters or remaining, as Pettigrew did, a sniveling servant until the war was over, Regulus not only turned his back on the Dark Lord but plotted to destroy him. Regulus also told no one of his plans to plot against the Dark Lord except for the house elf. He didn’t tell his parents, or even his clearly ‘good’ aligned brother Sirius, out of fear that when his acts were discovered, or it he failed, the Death Eaters would hunt down anyone who had assisted him. For all his faults, Regulus loved his family deeply and died, in part, to protect them.
Sexual Preferences/Orientation:
With no evidence either way, I’ll put Regulus at a 2 on the Kinsey Scale, predominately heterosexual with some latent homosexual potential. He would have only ever, in his short life, acted on his more predominate heterosexual attractions, for appearances sake if nothing else. In the city, he may eventually be influenced enough to consider exploration of the other side.
Regulus was raised an environment which, from all implications, closely mirrors the very upper crust of real traditional English society, meaning that marriages based on convenience, politics, and social maneuvering were more the norm than the anomaly. Family members were also not only disowned, but burned out of the family tapestry for selecting an undesirable mate, while marriage with second cousins was a common occurrence. Therefore, raised in this manner, he sees sex, marriage, and love as relatively unconnected events, with appearances being the primary motivating factor in whether or not to pursue a relationship. He feels fine with the idea of sex in general, though he would reserve very casual encounters for people of a lower class than himself to avoid gossip, and, by the same logic, only chase after a serious relationship with someone of equal standing.
Regulus remains slightly different than the norm for ‘dark wizards’ in this regard, as he has a huge sense of loyalty for those he cares for and what he considers to be right. Therefore, while kept mistresses and the like may be a common, though never spoken of, occurrence, he would be a strictly monogamous man when in a serious relationship out of his sense of loyalty. With more casual encounters, he’s more liberal, though he would certainly never discuss his bed partners with one another. Also, while tradition and social standing play a large part in his life, this loyalty to his own ideals means that if Regulus did ever meet anyone that simply blew him away but was less than socially desirable, he may be capable of shifting priorities slightly to allow for them in his life, though it would be no easy task for him.
Powers:
Regulus is an adult wizard with, unless it’s taken away from him, his wand on his person. He’s adapt at the art, capable of performing spells listed here, though perhaps not as skilled as his older brother. The spells do not need to be spoken to perform them, while the wand is required for nearly all of the magic.
Reason for playing:
Regulus is a character that has spent most of his life in the shallow end of the evil pool, only to find himself desperately in over his head when he finally graduated to wading into the deep end. When he died, Regulus was only 18 and on the cusp of fully discovering himself and what was important to him outside of his parent’s wishes for him to serve the Dark Lord. Exploring his quest at self-discovery is something that I’ve been interested in, and the dark, vice pulling city of Bete Noire adds an extra edge to this, as does interacting with characters and a world build outside of the typical Harry Potter setting. The fact that his brother and several Death Eaters are in the city is also certainly a motivating factor, as Regulus will be forced to deal with the conflicting influences in his life face to face.
4. Original Character Supplement
NA
5. Samples
First-Person:
I had decided once that it is by far a better thing to die with purpose than live with shame. Whatever else I may wonder, this has remained true. You may debate all you like over the merits of overt bravery versus hidden cunning, but never let it be said a Black has ever played the coward. True nobility is to die as one has lived, with chin held high. Simple. Yet...
Yet what, then, is one to do once that purpose is gone?
Third-Person:
Water spewed out in place of air as Regulus attempted to scream. His knees ground against the dirt as he coughed violently, hunched into himself as the water was forced out of his lungs. Perhaps it had been too much to ask when defiance of the Dark Lord was taken into account, but he had rather hoped death would be a touch less excruciating. His fingers ached, and it wasn’t until he felt his nail tear he realized it was due to him clawing at the ground as he fought for air. Undignified. Another newly discovered complaint about the after life.
He wretched the water and poison, then rested with forehead pressed to the bile covered dirt, still and silent save for the ragged breathes that seemed to rip through him. A slow, creeping certainty that he was somehow, inexplicably alive was starting to form based on the fact he simply hurt too much to be dead. That or the hell left for traitors by the Dark Lord was one which would drive even his spirit fully and irrevocably mad. At the moment, he vastly preferred the former option.
“K...Kreacher...?”
Regulus pushed himself up slowly, cautiously, unwilling to trust his trembling limbs. The name had come out far too much like a plea for his pride, and he bit his lip against the urge to call out again with the same hoarse, quaking voice. Dead, mad, or the luckiest wizard alive, he didn’t care. There was no call for him to sound like that. A small, unstoppable groan formed as he forced himself onto uncertain legs, stumbling slightly when he attempted to dust off the knees of his sodden, utterly ruined robes out of habit.
Shaking his head proved to be a rather grievous mistake, nearly sending him to his knees once more, but he managed to focus after a moment. Not London. Not any part of England, Europe, or anywhere else for that matter that he’d been to before. Queer. Perhaps Kreacher had managed to apparate him after all...though that did nothing to explain the location, or the house elf’s absence. He blinked harshly, forcing the useless thoughts away, and took in his surroundings. Nothing. Nothing for miles and miles, save for the sole city towering on the horizon. Very well. With a final yank at his drenched robes, a feeble attempt at wrapping them around his trembling form, Regulus began to walk. Whatever this may be, something was better than the void, better than facing nothing at all.
Third-Person #2:
The glass hesitated for a moment, a brief, silent pause that was over nearly before it began, before Regulus brought it to his lips and took a small, delicate sip of the wine. A thirteenth century vintage, preserved from the cellars of Salazar Slytherin himself, were they to be believed. Regulus very much doubted they were. Still, it was a fine enough year. A sharp flavor, nearly attacking his tongue before slipping down, leaving a soft, sweet aftertaste lingering in its wake. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, seeking the imagined lingering drop. Lovely.
He kept his thoughts on the wine as a murmured word transformed the choked sobs from the pale figure in the center of the circle to gentle moans. The imperius curse was nearly irresistible by even the most noble of the wizard elite, let alone by the pathetic mudblood that had been selected for the nights activities. An initiation, they had called it. A welcome to their newest brothers, the few, select members of the Hogwarts class of ‘78 chosen for the Mark. All loyal members of house Slytherin, the alma mater of the Dark Lord himself. Lucky, lucky them.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
The girl was beautiful. Even now, in this terrible moment as she drew herself up gracefully from the ground, hands moving to remove her own tear and blood stained robes as the leader of the masked men hissed his instructions to her, even now he could not deny that. Her left arm had been broken an hour ago, fractured just above the elbow, and it jutted out from her at an obscene, unnatural angle as her right hand cupped her breasts, each in turn, perfectly painted nails dragging across nipples rigid from the chill of the night air. Blue and bronze nails. Too old to still be a student, old enough that Regulus couldn’t remember ever seeing her in the castle, but a sister perhaps, a cousin, a girlfriend, some cherished person come to celebrate graduation. A Ravenclaw, she must have been intelligent. Been, and the past tense was the only way to think of her now as she lowered herself to her knees and slipped two fingers between her legs, discarded robes the only cushion between bare flesh and the forest floor. She would be dead soon, the blood sacrifice of gratitude to their Dark Lord. That she wouldn’t have to live remembering what was about to occur made it easier to think of it all without screaming himself, made it survivable in ways too dark and vile to be explained.
Help me.
Regulus watched, lips parted against the now empty glass, his own breath hot along his fingers as he watched her shoulders roll back, the top of her blond head nearly touching the dirt behind her as her bare chest arched dangerously into the air. Hard, pink, perfectly formed nubs swayed gently in the magical fire light as she moved her fingers back and forth, in and out of herself, knees spread painfully wide to allow her audience a prime view as her hips rolled forward with forced eagerness to meet each stroke. And view they did. Not a one of them stepped forward to ‘assist’ her, no Death Eater moved a hand between their own legs, despite the strain that was becoming painfully visible there on more than one of them. They were pure, the richest cream of the wizarding world. Rutting with an impurity would be beneath them.
Monsters.
His own breath increased in time with hers, chest rising and falling in perfect synchrony with those nearly translucently pale breasts. Almost. She was close, painfully close, her moans slowly increasing in volume and frequency, hips thrusting forward with new determination, three fingers sliding wetly, thumb rubbing harshly against her clit with each insertion. Soon she would be dead. His breath caught in his throat as she enveloped her fingers once more then tensed, shaking with the intensity of her gasped out orgasm. The ring leader raised his wand in the same moment, taunting laughter echoing off the trees as he hissed crucio, and Regulus’ glass slipped from numb fingers as her screams ripped through the forest, the shattering glass nearly silent compared to the raw agony echoing off the trees.
What have I done.
Name (or internet handle): Red
Current characters in Bete Noire: NA
2. Character Information
Name: Regulus Black
Livejournal Username: ablackestsheep
Fandom: Harry Potter
Image: Here
3. Character Information II
Age/Appearance: Regulus is 18 years old. His appearance is a mix of athleticism and luxury, a well-toned, lean build accompanied by perfectly manicured nails. He has (fashionably) semi-unkempt dark hair and blue eyes, along with the fine bone structure associated with pedigree and generations of more or less selective breeding. He stands at an average height of 5’ 8”.
History: Here. The link assumes a general knowledge of Harry Potter canon, if further world history is required please let me know! I will be taking Regulus from immediately after his death.
Personality:
As he is long dead when the series starts, I’ll be extrapolating Regulus’ personality based on what is given of him by other characters and his own choices and actions. What is known is that Regulus was the younger brother of the famous (or infamous) Sirius Black and, in their family, was considered to be the golden child. He hung newspaper clippings and photos of the Dark Lord Voldemort on his wall as a child, right next to banners of his family’s crest and the symbol of the Slytherin house. He adopted his parents ideals of pure-blooded supremacy and the idea that being of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black made one akin to wizarding royalty, and spent his school days, naturally in house Slytherin, eagerly awaiting the day he was old enough to become a full Death Eater. Like his brother, Regulus was also talented athletically, becoming the seeker for the house Quidditch team. He joined the Death Eaters when he was sixteen, adored his parents, and was, generally, much like Draco Malfoy in being a poster child for upcoming leaders of the pure-blooded world all through his years at Hogwarts.
For all the stereotypical behavior, however, Regulus was not a self-centered, ‘evil’ Slytherin and fanatic servant of the Dark Lord. Sirius himself describes his brother as ‘soft,’ and it took very little time for Regulus to discover that, while talking about purity and ancient tradition was all well and good, what the Dark Lord had in mind was far beyond anything he was willing to be a part of. The fact that it was, of all things, Voldemort leaving the Black family house elf to die that was the straw that broke the camel's back and drove Regulus to betray his master shows that for all his dark ways, Regulus had a good heart and cared deeply for the people around him, no matter the species. Regulus’ care and affection for the family house elf (a creature that even his brother Sirius hated and mistreated) was enough that, years later at the battle of Hogwarts, the elf led an attack against the Death Eaters in Regulus’ name.
Regulus is, to put it simply, a good son. He never really wanted to hurt anyone, he simply wanted to make his parents proud of him. This burden to be ‘the good child’ was only increased thanks to his brother, who seemed to go out of his way to rebel against the Black family in every possible manner throughout their childhood. Like the Malfoys, the Blacks were a family of breeding, class, and tradition, and Regulus lived up to these. While ‘lesser’ wizards were to be looked down on, it was done with an air of distaste and good form, rather than through inflicting physical terror or crude language. Regulus was, in short, a snob, but a behaved and well mannered one. He studied hard, performing well academically, though not with the casual genius of his older brother, played hard in quidditch, and, as all students, competed in trying to gain house points out of pride and love of his house. He was never one of the special students, Dumblebore never made any particular note or use of him, but he lead a happy, full life at Hogwarts as one of the wizards that personified what it was to be a pure, noble member of Slytherin.
His pride in his family and his blood wasn’t born out of hatred for muggleborns or anyone else, he was simply following tradition, as laid out for him by his family. The wizarding world had stood strong for countless generations because of tradition, after all, and his ancient bloodline is part of what has made that society great. What wasn’t there to be proud of? Regulus was far more a political conservative than some fanatic hatemonger, to him traditions exist for a reason and there’s no point to running around radically changing things in order to cater to the inferior muggle world. To Regulus, the Dark Lord was simply an icon of all this, of stopping foolish and reckless change simply for the sake of change and keeping the old, time-honored ways. Having this belief system made his family proud, his house proud, and promised to insure his place in the new world order once Voldemort took over. In short there was no reason not to become a Death Eater.
Until, of course, Regulus actually experienced what it was to be one at the tender age of 16. While his experiences in, and resulting betrayal of, the Death Eaters show Regulus’ more humane side, they also show his cunning Slytherin nature. Regulus was apparently at least considered trustworthy by the Dark Lord, despite his personal objections to the Death Eater methods. This can be seen as Regulus was not only privy to enough telling, personal conversations that he was eventually able to piece together that Voldemort was making horcurxes, Regulus was also asked a personal favor by the Dark Lord in lending out his house elf to test Voldemort’s defenses on one of these very items. This means that for two years Regulus played the role of a loyal, trustworthy Death Eater while at the same time hating his part in Voldemort’s plan to the point that he wished to see his former idol killed. He then devised a plan to retrieve the horcrux which, at the cost of his own life, succeeded so well that the theft was apparently never detected by Voldemort, who spent the rest of his days unaware that Regulus had betrayed him so completely. This act also showcased that pride ranked among the man’s vices, as he not only stole the horcrux and left a fake in it’s place, he left a rather eloquent ‘screw you’ letter to Voldemort, telling him exactly who had taken the horcrux, that he planned to destroy it and, though he knows he will be killed for it, that he does it all in the hope that it will help bring about Voldemort’s death. It wasn’t enough to help kill the Dark Lord, he wanted to make damn sure the man knew it.
This entire episode also showed that Sirius wasn’t the only brave and loyal Black son. Rather than simply fleeing the Death Eaters or remaining, as Pettigrew did, a sniveling servant until the war was over, Regulus not only turned his back on the Dark Lord but plotted to destroy him. Regulus also told no one of his plans to plot against the Dark Lord except for the house elf. He didn’t tell his parents, or even his clearly ‘good’ aligned brother Sirius, out of fear that when his acts were discovered, or it he failed, the Death Eaters would hunt down anyone who had assisted him. For all his faults, Regulus loved his family deeply and died, in part, to protect them.
Sexual Preferences/Orientation:
With no evidence either way, I’ll put Regulus at a 2 on the Kinsey Scale, predominately heterosexual with some latent homosexual potential. He would have only ever, in his short life, acted on his more predominate heterosexual attractions, for appearances sake if nothing else. In the city, he may eventually be influenced enough to consider exploration of the other side.
Regulus was raised an environment which, from all implications, closely mirrors the very upper crust of real traditional English society, meaning that marriages based on convenience, politics, and social maneuvering were more the norm than the anomaly. Family members were also not only disowned, but burned out of the family tapestry for selecting an undesirable mate, while marriage with second cousins was a common occurrence. Therefore, raised in this manner, he sees sex, marriage, and love as relatively unconnected events, with appearances being the primary motivating factor in whether or not to pursue a relationship. He feels fine with the idea of sex in general, though he would reserve very casual encounters for people of a lower class than himself to avoid gossip, and, by the same logic, only chase after a serious relationship with someone of equal standing.
Regulus remains slightly different than the norm for ‘dark wizards’ in this regard, as he has a huge sense of loyalty for those he cares for and what he considers to be right. Therefore, while kept mistresses and the like may be a common, though never spoken of, occurrence, he would be a strictly monogamous man when in a serious relationship out of his sense of loyalty. With more casual encounters, he’s more liberal, though he would certainly never discuss his bed partners with one another. Also, while tradition and social standing play a large part in his life, this loyalty to his own ideals means that if Regulus did ever meet anyone that simply blew him away but was less than socially desirable, he may be capable of shifting priorities slightly to allow for them in his life, though it would be no easy task for him.
Powers:
Regulus is an adult wizard with, unless it’s taken away from him, his wand on his person. He’s adapt at the art, capable of performing spells listed here, though perhaps not as skilled as his older brother. The spells do not need to be spoken to perform them, while the wand is required for nearly all of the magic.
Reason for playing:
Regulus is a character that has spent most of his life in the shallow end of the evil pool, only to find himself desperately in over his head when he finally graduated to wading into the deep end. When he died, Regulus was only 18 and on the cusp of fully discovering himself and what was important to him outside of his parent’s wishes for him to serve the Dark Lord. Exploring his quest at self-discovery is something that I’ve been interested in, and the dark, vice pulling city of Bete Noire adds an extra edge to this, as does interacting with characters and a world build outside of the typical Harry Potter setting. The fact that his brother and several Death Eaters are in the city is also certainly a motivating factor, as Regulus will be forced to deal with the conflicting influences in his life face to face.
4. Original Character Supplement
NA
5. Samples
First-Person:
I had decided once that it is by far a better thing to die with purpose than live with shame. Whatever else I may wonder, this has remained true. You may debate all you like over the merits of overt bravery versus hidden cunning, but never let it be said a Black has ever played the coward. True nobility is to die as one has lived, with chin held high. Simple. Yet...
Yet what, then, is one to do once that purpose is gone?
Third-Person:
Water spewed out in place of air as Regulus attempted to scream. His knees ground against the dirt as he coughed violently, hunched into himself as the water was forced out of his lungs. Perhaps it had been too much to ask when defiance of the Dark Lord was taken into account, but he had rather hoped death would be a touch less excruciating. His fingers ached, and it wasn’t until he felt his nail tear he realized it was due to him clawing at the ground as he fought for air. Undignified. Another newly discovered complaint about the after life.
He wretched the water and poison, then rested with forehead pressed to the bile covered dirt, still and silent save for the ragged breathes that seemed to rip through him. A slow, creeping certainty that he was somehow, inexplicably alive was starting to form based on the fact he simply hurt too much to be dead. That or the hell left for traitors by the Dark Lord was one which would drive even his spirit fully and irrevocably mad. At the moment, he vastly preferred the former option.
“K...Kreacher...?”
Regulus pushed himself up slowly, cautiously, unwilling to trust his trembling limbs. The name had come out far too much like a plea for his pride, and he bit his lip against the urge to call out again with the same hoarse, quaking voice. Dead, mad, or the luckiest wizard alive, he didn’t care. There was no call for him to sound like that. A small, unstoppable groan formed as he forced himself onto uncertain legs, stumbling slightly when he attempted to dust off the knees of his sodden, utterly ruined robes out of habit.
Shaking his head proved to be a rather grievous mistake, nearly sending him to his knees once more, but he managed to focus after a moment. Not London. Not any part of England, Europe, or anywhere else for that matter that he’d been to before. Queer. Perhaps Kreacher had managed to apparate him after all...though that did nothing to explain the location, or the house elf’s absence. He blinked harshly, forcing the useless thoughts away, and took in his surroundings. Nothing. Nothing for miles and miles, save for the sole city towering on the horizon. Very well. With a final yank at his drenched robes, a feeble attempt at wrapping them around his trembling form, Regulus began to walk. Whatever this may be, something was better than the void, better than facing nothing at all.
Third-Person #2:
The glass hesitated for a moment, a brief, silent pause that was over nearly before it began, before Regulus brought it to his lips and took a small, delicate sip of the wine. A thirteenth century vintage, preserved from the cellars of Salazar Slytherin himself, were they to be believed. Regulus very much doubted they were. Still, it was a fine enough year. A sharp flavor, nearly attacking his tongue before slipping down, leaving a soft, sweet aftertaste lingering in its wake. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, seeking the imagined lingering drop. Lovely.
He kept his thoughts on the wine as a murmured word transformed the choked sobs from the pale figure in the center of the circle to gentle moans. The imperius curse was nearly irresistible by even the most noble of the wizard elite, let alone by the pathetic mudblood that had been selected for the nights activities. An initiation, they had called it. A welcome to their newest brothers, the few, select members of the Hogwarts class of ‘78 chosen for the Mark. All loyal members of house Slytherin, the alma mater of the Dark Lord himself. Lucky, lucky them.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
The girl was beautiful. Even now, in this terrible moment as she drew herself up gracefully from the ground, hands moving to remove her own tear and blood stained robes as the leader of the masked men hissed his instructions to her, even now he could not deny that. Her left arm had been broken an hour ago, fractured just above the elbow, and it jutted out from her at an obscene, unnatural angle as her right hand cupped her breasts, each in turn, perfectly painted nails dragging across nipples rigid from the chill of the night air. Blue and bronze nails. Too old to still be a student, old enough that Regulus couldn’t remember ever seeing her in the castle, but a sister perhaps, a cousin, a girlfriend, some cherished person come to celebrate graduation. A Ravenclaw, she must have been intelligent. Been, and the past tense was the only way to think of her now as she lowered herself to her knees and slipped two fingers between her legs, discarded robes the only cushion between bare flesh and the forest floor. She would be dead soon, the blood sacrifice of gratitude to their Dark Lord. That she wouldn’t have to live remembering what was about to occur made it easier to think of it all without screaming himself, made it survivable in ways too dark and vile to be explained.
Help me.
Regulus watched, lips parted against the now empty glass, his own breath hot along his fingers as he watched her shoulders roll back, the top of her blond head nearly touching the dirt behind her as her bare chest arched dangerously into the air. Hard, pink, perfectly formed nubs swayed gently in the magical fire light as she moved her fingers back and forth, in and out of herself, knees spread painfully wide to allow her audience a prime view as her hips rolled forward with forced eagerness to meet each stroke. And view they did. Not a one of them stepped forward to ‘assist’ her, no Death Eater moved a hand between their own legs, despite the strain that was becoming painfully visible there on more than one of them. They were pure, the richest cream of the wizarding world. Rutting with an impurity would be beneath them.
Monsters.
His own breath increased in time with hers, chest rising and falling in perfect synchrony with those nearly translucently pale breasts. Almost. She was close, painfully close, her moans slowly increasing in volume and frequency, hips thrusting forward with new determination, three fingers sliding wetly, thumb rubbing harshly against her clit with each insertion. Soon she would be dead. His breath caught in his throat as she enveloped her fingers once more then tensed, shaking with the intensity of her gasped out orgasm. The ring leader raised his wand in the same moment, taunting laughter echoing off the trees as he hissed crucio, and Regulus’ glass slipped from numb fingers as her screams ripped through the forest, the shattering glass nearly silent compared to the raw agony echoing off the trees.
What have I done.