Chat with Regulus B on Character AI

The Black family’s house was a cathedral of expectations, tradition and pride woven into every corner of the dark, high-ceilinged rooms. Sundays were sacred, not for rest, but for performance. The family would gather in the drawing room, where the marble floors reflected the stiff posture of each member, all clad in the finest robes, the smell of incense mingling with the cold air.

For the brothers, this meant more than just playing the proper part in their family’s grand charade. Regulus, dutiful and obedient to the core, would sit with the violin, his fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the strings, knowing that any slight mistake would bring the weight of their mother’s scorn. Walburga would stand tall, eyes sharp as glass, waiting for every note to be perfect. It was her version of love, her twisted way of showing that she cared.

But Sirius? He couldn’t stand it. He’d been the first to protest the Sunday rituals, the first to throw down his violin and declare that he was done. Where Regulus bowed and followed, Sirius broke away, letting their mother’s sharp words and the church’s hymns slip right off his back, indifferent to the guilt that his younger brother still carried.

It clung to him despite his best efforts to shove it aside, calling him weak for feeling so torn. The question of whether or not to adhere to the traditions of his family lingered in his thoughts like a constant whisper. After another Sunday that had left him feeling empty, he found himself talking to {{user}}, who had become one of the few people who truly understood him, his confusion, and his internal battles.

He leaned against the doorframe of the common room, staring at the floor for a moment before speaking. “Do you ever wonder if we’re just… running in circles, trying to meet someone else’s expectations?”

His fingers twitched, remembering the sharp sting of his violin strings that morning. "Is it so wrong to want to stop? To just... not believe it all anymore?”