Fucking love it when Ukyo’s face is just like

he is eleven and he knows he has chosen his own path. as soon as he was freed from them his first act was one of defiance. this will not be lost on them. he hasn’t written home telling them yet but he knows they already know. they have connections. & so he isn’t surprised when he sees the family owl fly directly to him, a bright red envelope attached to it’s leg. he unties it with shaking fingers, terrified of what he knows it will say and at the same time completely unbothered. the triumph of the previous night has not completely faded from his mind, he knew there would be repercussions and had deemed them worth paying. the envelope begins to smoke and his new friend, james, glances at him questioningly. there’s no use putting it off and so he opens it. his mother’s voice rings out, and despite himself he flinches at the sound of it. she calls him a disappointment, a blood traitor, a friend of mudbloods and filth. she claims that he has disgraced his family, that he has forever tarnished the noble name of the blacks. her rant goes on and on and he does his best to appear unbothered, although his face is a sickly shade of white. not until the very end, when suddenly his father’s voice cuts in, does he let his mask down. for while his mother was screeching anger and righteous indignation and terrible wrath, his father is low and cold, hard and sharp. he does not waste time screaming insults but instead, in the quietest, most terrifying voice possible, promises that sirius will pay, and then he whispers in french, toujours pur, always pure, the family motto. & that is what shakes sirius down to the bones. the envelope disintegrates in his hands and he, with all the effort in the world, manages to control himself. the whole great hall is staring at him, and over at the slytherin table he sees his cousins laughing and jeering. they booed him last night. they know what is to come to him. he tears his eyes away from them and instead glances at james who is gaping at him in open mouthed astonishment, his horror evident in his eyes. the teachers are whispering hurriedly to each other, no doubt wondering what to do and how to regain order, a stern looking witch with her hair in a tight bun has her eye trained in him, concern coloring her face. a pudgy little boy is staring at him, apparently not noticing that the yolk of his egg that is dripping onto his lap. slowly the great hall resumes to its usual chatter, although people continue to shoot him looks, intermittently. another first year gyrffindor, a boy with scruffy brown hair, warm eyes and a scarred face, keeps staring at him intently, making him slightly uncomfortable. “you okay, mate?” james asks solicitously, concern shadowing his face. sirius, swallowing down a lump in his throat and wishing more than anything to move past the moment, nods silently and attempts to continue with their earlier conversation as if nothing had happened. james, although still looking sickened, allows it without comment and slowly the pace returns and it is as if nothing has happened. at the end of that day, though, it is clear that something indeed did happen. by the end of that first day, although he did not know it yet, he found another family. a family that would not shame him and punish him and and hurt him. a family that would not send him howlers and thinly veiled threats. a family that would love him unconditionally. james, his new friend who would become his brother. remus, the scruffy boy with the intent stare who would become his lover. & peter, the pudgy little boy who would become one of his best friends. the day he knew that he would lose his family, was the the day he found a new one.

he is twelve and he comes back from summer break with a bruised face and even more bruised ego. he spent all summer paying for the crime of being sorted into gryffindor the previous year and nobody can miss the stiffness of which he walks and the way he pulls his robes around him to conceal his injuries. he can’t quite hide his black eye and busted lip but he manages with the help of James to heal it before any of the teachers notice. he is sullen and moody to his friends and shrinks back when they touch him. but mostly he is worried about regulus. he doesn’t know what to hope for. he wants regulus to join him in gryffindor, to go down the right path because he knows he has it in him. but he doesn’t know if regulus can handle the sting of rejection the way he can, if he can take the blows that accompany righteousness. & so as regulus is sorted anxiety clenches his heart. it seems to take forever, every second a minute. regulus is trembling and suddenly reg blurts out “no!” causing sirius to wonder what exactly he was refusing. after regulus’ exclaimation the sorting hat almost immediately calls out slytherin. as regulus takes off the hat he seems both relieved and doubtful and sirius manages to catch his eyes. sad grey eyes reflect each other for a moment before regulus turns away. it shatters sirius. after dinner he runs after him and catches up before regulus can leave, he asks regulus why he said no. after a moment of hesitation regulus confides that the hat thought he belonged in gryffindor. they both stare at each other for a moment & suddenly brothers are hugging each other tightly, both immensely aware of the implications of this day and both clutching each other like nothing would ever be the same again. & it wouldn’t. but for a moment it doesnt matter and they are just brothers, holding on tight, fearing the moment they’ll be forced to let go. the next day the family owl lands near regulus, showering him in packages and letters of pride and before it flies away it pecks sirius sharply, and rakes its talons down his cheek leaving a bloody gash, no doubt on his mother’s orders. the snub could not be more clear. but sirius could not care less.

he is thirteen and he can’t wait to get to school to escape them. he barely holding on. he’s finally deemed old enough to find a potential suitor and the parties he’s been forced to attend since childhood are even worse. after he failed to show the proper table manners at one such event, his mother made him balance books on his head for a solid 7 hours, charming a stick to hit him anytime he began to slouch. he hasn’t quite managed to shake off the habit and it seems to add several inches to his height. he sulks at the edge of parties, bored and sullen, he knows nobody will interest him. boring pure blooded girls who recite the same poison his parents do. besides, sirius isn’t interested in girls anyways, no the scruffy boy from first year has caught his eye, although neither of them will admit it yet, each sure that they are reading into it too much, letting their imaginations get the best of them. he is intensely unhappy and can not wait to return to school. but school only offers limited relief as the darkness and fighting afflicting the rest of the world slowly creeps in. his home and sanctuary is polluted, gradually and inconspicuously. & so he redoubles his efforts, if the world insists on being darker he insists on being brighter. his pranks get bolder, his laughs get louder, his energy triples. he will beat this world if it’s the last thing he does. & they almost succeed. him and the marauders, together they light the world on fire. they radiate with boundless energy, sirius and james in the lead, remus and peter close behind, intent on showing the world what they’ve got. & so together they practice advanced magic and attempt daring stunts. their bonds of brotherhood standing steady against the weight of the world.

he is fourteen and he has run away from home for the first time, showing up on the potter’s doorstep at 2 am, bruised and battered. he offers no explanation for what happened but they don’t require one. it’s horrifyingly clear. they accept him in wordlessly, for he’s been their son since james brought him home first year for winter break. he stays for only three days, just long enough to regroup and regather himself, despite the pleas of the potters for him to remain with them. he can’t, not yet. & so he returns to the home that imprisons him and allows justice to be served for running away. it is brutal but he can take it, he can hold on just a little longer for regulus. just a little longer. he repeats it like a mantra. just a little longer. once back at school sirius and remus finally find each other, years of hidden tension and pining spill over. they finally allow their true feelings to come out and they love each other fearlessly, with an intensity that suggests they both know their days are numbered. their love lights up a loveless world; the charming heir of the blacks, and the scruffy half blood, the lawless rebel and the broken werewolf, fate tying them together, assuring that their destinies will forever be intertwined. theirs is a love story written in the heavens, but one that will be lost between the stars and the moon, forever floating in empty space, beautiful and tragic, falling through the cracks. remus and sirius walk a parallel line, side by side forever and ever, but destined to never truly cross.

he is fifteen and he has made a dire mistake. he can’t redeem himself for this, and although he doesn’t regret it, not really, he does regret hurting his love. he told snape a secret that wasn’t his to share. snape, the disgusting boy who sought the darkness, the boy who had a choice and still chose wrong. the boy who wasn’t pressured and beaten and threatened into joining the dark side but rather did it on his own. unlike sirius, unlike regulus, nobody was forcing him down the wrong path, instead he chose it willingly. he did it of his own accord. sirius HATED him for it. it seemed so unfair. he had been cruel to them all their school years and he stood for everything sirius was against. for sirius it was personal. & so he told that scheming, vindictive jerk to go to the whooping willow during the full moon. served him right for always being in their business, for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. he wasn’t thinking of the consequences for remus, of what would happen to him if he had accidentally hurt snape, of how he would feel. he was only thinking about getting snape back, of revenge. but james, stupid noble james, who would save his worst enemy, found out. he chose to play the hero. he saved snape, risking his own neck along the way. and they were all so mad at him. james was horrified that he was willing to let snape die, and even more horrified that he would dare use remus for that pursuit. remus was beyond angry, he was downright furious. he had entrusted sirius with his deepest secret and he had almost blown it. sirius had tried to use him to hurt someone else, and that was remus’ worst fear. peter, too, was disgusted. remus immediantly told him that they were done, and refused to speak to him. james was cool towards him and clearly took remus’s side but he couldn’t bring himself to hate his best friend and so he forgave him reluctantly. the thing was, sirius didn’t regret it if he was honest with himself. he still thought that snape deserved it. sirius had been raised in a black and white world, he managed to escape the poison of his family but couldn’t quite change his perspective. in his mind snape was evil and evil people get what they deserve. simple. but he did feel bad for hurting remus, that was never his intention. he apologized again and again and again. nothing he did could fix it but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. eventually remus caved in, and they were friends again, although nothing more. remus wasn’t ready to go that far. sirius accepted it reluctantly, it was better than nothing.

he is sixteen and he is free but not really. he’ll never be free. he wakes up in cold sweats, throat raw from yelling, blankets twisted around him from his thrashing. he’ll never be free. he finally left them, his family. but they’re still with him. you can cut off branches but you can never leave your roots. he flinches when people raise their voice at him, he shudders at the lightest touch. when he looks in the mirror his reflection mocks him. because he sees his mother’s darkness in his eyes and his father in the sharp, hard set of his jaw. he is still one of them. he never knew of their capacity for cruelty until he tried to leave. he never knew how truly terrible they could be. he is so thankful for james and his family, he can’t even begin to describe his appreciation. he owes them an explanation, he knows he does. he showed up half dead on their doorstep, beaten to a pulp. blood traitor carved across his arm, nothing behind his eyes. listless and broken. but he can’t give it, he can’t bring himself to tell them everything that happened. he can’t even think about it himself. & they understand. they are horrified and sickened and worried but they understand. his friends rally around him and with the potters he truly is free. he truly is happy. he can’t control his blood but he can control his choices. & he chooses them 100% of the time. & that’s all that matters. now that he is free from them he can finally be his own person without fear of retribution. he can finally express his beliefs and values and self.

he is seventeen and he is absolutely terrified. the war is more intense than ever. his brother is a death eater. he sees the mark on his arm. he has failed him, but it’s too late for amends. it is his final year at hogwarts and he is scared to leave his safe haven, to make his way in the real world. school is no longer simply about receiving an education, now it is about training for battle. he is not a student but rather a soldier. & so he trains like his life depends on it, because it does. finally among his chosen family, among his best friends, that is where he is set free. he knows of the war, he’s aware of the consequences and the weight and all of the choices, but he is ready, he is prepared. for him life is black and white, there is no grey and he is ready to fight for what he knows is right. he doesn’t truly come alive unless he is in the action, unless he is fighting for his beliefs. so despite the deaths and the tragedies and the war he still believes. he believes in the ideal, in hope and equality and righteousness. in a way he is naive in his views, in his boundless, unrestrained hope. he looks into the future and sees gold, he sees possibility. he has no idea of the imminent collapse, that things must get much much worse before they get better. for now he just enjoys his last year before he enters the real world, his last year of peace. sirius black will take the world by storm, but the world is destined to have the last word.