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fuckmymunson · 2 years

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𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐥 — 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤

★ Request: Dark!Sirius Black, prompt words: Bullet, graveyard shift, sinner.

★ CW: 18+ DARK SMUT, NON-CON, religious corruption kink, disrespecting holy items, nun!reader, loss of virginity, BLOOD, unprotected sex, choking, breeding kink, (barely there?) dumbification, not exactly dirty talk but kind of?, dacryphilia, not edited/proofread! lmk if I miss a tag! | Word count: 2,8k. | Minors DNI.

★ a/n: Requested by 📸 anon, hope you like it!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Walking under the pouring rain, the half-moon and stars hidden behind the big, dark clouds of autumn, side by side with sister Lisseth, who was explaining to you tonight's divine office. Crossing the open gates of the graveyard next to the cathedral, holding the skirts of your habit, the atmosphere felt heavy the moment you stepped inside the holy property.

“I promise you the night will go in the blink of an eye.” She spoke, her green eyes glowing softly at the oil lantern she had in a pale hand. “You know your divine office, right?”

“Yes.” You nodded, obedient as always. “Ten Hail Mary Prayers, fifteen prayers for Our father and the Rosary for the salvation of the poor souls who had left this earth too early.” Your sister looked pleased with your answer and handing you the oil lantern as well as an umbrella, identical to the one she was holding, she guided you to an empty mausoleum, which would be your shelter for that night.

“God blesses you, sister.” She smiled, holding your hand. “Repeat with me the night shift praying.”

“Dear God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” The two nuns spoke in unison, the rain around them acting as a sweet lullaby to their prayers. “Remember those who labour and toil while I eat and rest. Bless those who go unseen during night hours. Strengthen those who ply their trade after the setting of the sun. Amen.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, please take care.” Before leaving, Sister Lisseth spoke words that left you slightly puzzled.

After a few minutes of silent prayers, the night shift you were committed to finally started. Walking through the rows of graves and tombstones, murmuring merciful prayers clenching the red rosary tight against your chest. The rain stopped after a few hours and returning to the empty mausoleum, you folded the black umbrella, ready to continue with your night prayers.

“In the name of the Father, and the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, amen.” Your voice resounded in the ancient stones, in the names of the departed. Hands clasped together still holding the crimson beads in a devoted sight. “In times of sickness and death, prayers are the best means of consolation, comfort and help that people can give. Let us now begin this Rosary by calling on our Blessed Mother Mary to pray for us now as we pray for all of the poor unfortunate souls who had left us too early…”

A loud crack was heard in the distance, followed by a low growl, something that sounded too similar to a whimper of pain. Remaining still on your knees, you muttered a quick prayer for protection, feeling your heart speeding up in a split second. Maybe is just a stray dog who got hurt, that made a lot of sense, a dog.

“God of heaven, You called them from this life. God of Mercy, fulfil their faith and hope in You.” You continued the prayer, eyes darting at the abyss of darkness that unfolded before you. “Lead them safely home to heaven to be with You forever, filled with joy and peace in Your presence. We ask this through Christ, our Lord. Amen.”

With every second that passed, the sounds got louder, heavier, almost as if they were steps, that was slowly approaching you. Standing up abruptly, one hand clasping the holy figure and the other holding the oil lantern, narrowed eyes, scrutinizing the dark corners and paths of the graveyard, looking for the source of the sounds. Amazingly, a tall figure emerged from behind an old oak tree, limping and curling in its own figure. The rain enhanced the smells of the forest next to the cathedral, the scents of musk, moist grass and tar flooding your nostrils, and, the unmistakable metallic smell of blood.

“Who are you?” Your question made him raise his head, it was a man. An injured man. He was a few inches taller than you, he looked ragged and dejected, he wore an old grey coat, wet with the rain and ripped in a few spots. His eyes were also grey, sparkling with the dim lights of the lantern, his chiselled cheekbones and jawline were painted with droplets of blood, the light shadow of his facial hair enriching his pale skin.

Instead of answering your question, the stranger approached you a little more, one hand firmly resting against his stomach. “You’re hurt.” You acknowledged his damaged state, and he nodded weakly, his eyes giving you a silent plea.

Placing the lantern on the floor, you approached him this time, worried and ready to aid a stranger in disgrace. You were so blinded by your kind heart, that you didn’t notice the devilish smirk in his eyes. Helping him take a seat on the edge of the empty mausoleum, you kneeled next to him, moving his hand gently to asset the damage. “What happened?” You asked, alarmed by the amount of blood.

“I was shot.” He explained briefly, making you gasp. His voice was calm, too calm for someone who had been shot, but you were too worried to notice that too. “I need you to help me, Sister.”

“Of course.” You nodded, a determined fire in your eyes. This is what God would’ve wanted, to help a wayward soul. “We can go back to the cathedral, I’m sure Sister Lily will be of help, she is a really good healer and—”

“We don’t have time, Sister.” He interrupted you, placing a hand on top of yours, guiding it to his wound. “I need you to remove the bullet, with your hands.” A surprising gesture appeared on your face, almost making him chuckle. “Please, it hurts so much.” His wince was too convincing.

Swallowing all the panic and fear, your shaky hand darted over his wound, a few centimetres next to his belly button. When your soft fingers slid inside the wound, he hissed in pain, and you flinched in disgust and anxiety, it was horrible, and the sensation was one you would never forget. Sliding another finger in, your fingertips bumped with a small object and curling them gently over the silver bullet, you pulled it slowly, afraid of hurting him more. The whole time you avoided his gaze, afraid to break down at the pain he had to be experiencing. The clammy sensation of blood clots and skin made you gag, tears prickled in your pretty eyes, the sound of your fingers leaving the wound was so disgusting you miraculously suppressed the urge to vomit.

“Thank you, Thank you.” He whispered, letting out a satisfied groan, his voice echoing in your ears.

“We need to go back to the cathedral, the wound is deep, it needs to be cleaned.” Your voice was supposed to be confident, but it came out shaky and nervous, still in shock, looking at your bloody hand holding the silver bullet in awe.

“There’s no need, Sister.” This time, you lifted your eyes, meeting his and feeling your heart-stopping at the smirk he wore on his Adonis's face. “The bullet was the only thing preventing my body from working as it should be.”

Right before your eyes, the wound started closing, the skin stretching and then shrinking, until there was no wound, the only evidence of an injury being the blood stains and a very faint silver scar. Mouth wide open, you gasped again, this time in total fear.

“Who are you?” You repeated the question from earlier, your hands quickly reaching for the crimson rosary, the same colour as the blood in your fingers.

‘Sirius Black.’ He said, as cocky as he could be. Black, you had heard that last name before. Before, sure, but where?

Then, it hit you.

“Black.” You repeated out loud. “Just like the family who was murdered a few days ago.” The exact family who was buried in the graveyard you were now stuck in, in an ostentatious marble mausoleum, a few yards away. “Mother, Father and only son were found dead in the Black manor.”

“That was my family, yes.” He looked amused by your reactions as if he was playing with you. “Not by my hand, unfortunately.” A weak whine fled your lips by his words, making him chuckle.

“Please, don’t hurt me.” You begged, scared, holding the rosary in your chest.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Sister.” The way the holy title rolled down his tongue was different, it sounded blasphemous, sinful. “You helped me, and you deserved a reward for your kind heart.”

“Mother of Mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve, to thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.” You whispered hurriedly, terrified, the tears rolling hotly down your cheeks, your words only making him laugh again. “Turn then, most gracious Advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us, and after this, our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus.—”

“Praying won’t save you from me, little one.” He interrupted you, again, cupping your face with one hand, harshly pulling you closer to his face, you continued with the prayer. “Oh, sweet Virgin Mary. Pray for us, O Holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.” He joined the prayer, mocking your voice and laughing darkly at your tears. “Oh, sweet virgin.”

His lips were pressed against yours, swallowing the sob that emanated from you. Sirius could taste the salty flavour of your tears, fueling his increasing arousal. He felt hungry, starving, and the only thing he wanted to ravish was you. You tried to push him away, a desperate attempt to escape his claws, but he was monstrously strong. Standing up, he grabbed your coif, snatching it away from your head, letting your hair exposed to the night air. One hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, dragging you inside the cold mausoleum with him. Kneeling next to you, just like you did minutes before, he licked your tears groaning at the taste. “So pretty.” He whispered before kissing you again, the goal of ruining you being the only one inside his twisted mind.

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” You cried, desperate for salvation, squeaking when his cruel hands slid inside your tunic, groping your thighs and loosening the fabric. “Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

“Amen.” He finished the sentence, smiling. His fingers twisted your nipples, torturing you beyond limits. “Answer me, Sister, are you a virgin?” The painful moan from your part answered his question, but he wanted verbal confirmation. “Answer me, little one.”

“Please, please don’t.” You cried, a cry that broke into a choke when his thumb circled your clothed clit.

“So, you are.” He repeated his actions until he was satisfied by the subtle wet patch in your cotton underwear, as white as your coif, as pure as your heart. “Then I’m sure I will enjoy ruining you more, my sweet virgin.”

He slid one finger, only one, and it hurt. The slick between your legs was providing him with enough lubrication, but the intrusion was too much. “So tight.” He pointed out, kissing your jaw. “Can wait to rip you apart with my cock. Break this tight cunt in two, if I’m feeling clement enough, perhaps I can bless you with my baby, don’t you think? Sister.” Curling his finger, he seized from the way you rocked your hips involuntarily, adding a second finger, the burning sensation of being stretched by his digits overwhelmed your head.

“I believe in one God—.” You tried to continue, believing so foolishly in the superior being that could pull you out of this misery, your voice cracked at the way he curled his fingers again, hitting that spot that made you moan in pleasure, a guilty pleasure. “the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible… Fuck.” You gasped when his thumb met your clit again, the bliss of an orgasm clouding your head.

“That’s it, little one.” Sirius cooed at you. “Let yourself go, there’s nothing bad about pleasure, on the contrary, why would God give you such a gorgeous body and not put it to good use?” He added a third finger, and the pain returned. Biting your lip, you sobbed at his words, feeling so guilty for getting any pleasure from this sinful act, you made a celibate vow, and you tried to remember the celibate prayer you spoke out loud in the cathedral a few months ago when you decided to change your life and be faithful to your one and only God.

“I-I ask you, Jesus, to fill my sexuality with your holiness, to strengthen me and restore me in your n-name.” Every word was harder to pronounce than the one before, Sirius was kissing your neck, nibbling at the flesh and leaving purplish marks. Everything was getting blurry, your head was floating, the sensations were too powerful.

“So dumb.” Sirius mocked your pout, removing his fingers from your aching pussy, swirling his tongue over his wet digits, wet with your arousal, with your sin. “Such a holy fool.” Unbotting his trousers, you gasped in shock, knowing well what was about to happen. Trying to move was useless now, he had you caged, and when he lined up with your throbbing cunt, he smiled almost gently. “Don’t worry, Sister, I will make you feel good.”

The pain was unimaginable.

Even if he attempted to prep you beforehand, his fingers weren’t compared to his cock. Sirius groaned, delighted by the way your velvety virgin walls suck every inch of him. “So greedy.” He growled, moving until his hips collided with the back of your thighs. “So tight, such a holy cunt.” Dragging his length out of you, the crimson sheer layer that covered it only thrilled him even more. Leaning down to kiss you, he drank your desperate cries, hands pressed on your thighs opening your legs even further if it was possible.

Next to you, discarded and forgotten, the red beaded rosary caught his attention. Closing your eyes due to the pleasure and pain that rocked your body, your eyes widened when you felt a familiar material wrapped around your throat, the rosary sinking into the skin of your neck, denting the tender flesh and obstructing the air from your lungs. Sirius kept choking you with your own holy item, bottoming out at the way your gushing pussy pulsated around his hard cock. “You like that, don’t you?” He asked in a hoarse voice, struggling to thrust at the way your walls were gripping him.

Little black dots clouded your vision, your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and Sirius released the pressure from your throat, allowing you to breathe, the rosary hanging loosely around your poor neck and bouncing over your exposed breasts with every snap of his hips.

“I’m gonna fill you up, little one.” He spoke, leaning down, squeezing your cheeks together, forcing an exaggerated pout from your part. “I’m gonna bless you with my child, ‘m sure you’ll be a wonderful mother.” His fingers rubbed your clit without any compassion, throwing you into that state of bliss, feeling the orgasm again, this time harder than before. “Cum, cum for me, Sister. Let your sins consume you.”

Sirius moaned when you came around him, and after a few deep thrusts, he did as well, inside you, the warm squirts of his cum pooling inside you, making you whine at the new sensation. Sirius cooed at you, kissing your lips, your neck, your breasts. Your body was overworked, every inch of it hurt, and the world was becoming a big blur with every second that passed.

“Rest, little one.” You heard him talk, feeling something being placed inside your hand, something you hold tightly. “Rest, for now.” That was the last thing you registered before fainting.

The next morning, you woke up in one of the infirmary’s beds, feeling sore from head to toe. Next to you, Sister Lily and Sister Lisseth had a permanent gesture of distress, when they noticed your awake state, they rushed their way to you.

“Thank God you’re awake.” Sister Lily cried, covering her face with her hands.

“What happened? Take your time, there’s no rush, your wellbeing comes first.” Sister Lisseth grabbed your hand, rubbing soothing circled in your palm.

Feeling something cold against your other hand, you lifted and opened it, a little ring falling on your lap. Picking it up, it was a gold ring, with initials carved. It was elegant and shadowy and it only screamed danger. Your finger traced the initials: S.O.B.

Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. I appreciate any feedback!˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#Anya is writing! ᜊ( ᜊ ´ ˘) ੭ #Anya dreams of Sirius!(〃＾▽＾〃)#sirius black #dark!siriusblack #dark!sirius black #sirius by omel!#dark!sirius by omel!#sirius black smut #sirius black x reader smut #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #dark!sirius black smut #marauder x reader smut #omenhel's 200 flowers!#📸 anon

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fuckmymunson · 2 years

Note

Anon from yesterday hehe, so what I had in my mind was that, reader is James' stepsibling (since I'm poc) and is in Slytherin. Hence he hates them. Even in Slytherin they're not respected and bullied cus they're nice. They also try to be like James and are animagus only so could get love but James confesses he hates his sibling.

Fast forward, reader marries regulus who again treats them like crap. Their marriage is sad. Until maybe something happens and regulus realises their value and later even James accepts them. So basically shit ton of angst with happy ending.

Sorry for long request. You can make it as dark and angsty as you can

𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 — 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤

☆ CW: ANGST, suicide attempt, a lot of cursing, family issues, bullying, James (probably OOC, but idgaf<3), being really, really mean, Regulus being a bad husband. | word count: 5.4k. ☆ a/n: First time writing Reg, sorry. Part II it's still in the making (yes almost a year later, leave me alone lmao)

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

Can’t the dark side light my way?

Another morning was waking up to an empty bed.

Rolling on your side, you sighed pressing your cheek against the silk pillows. Every morning was the same, every day felt the same in this old house.

Wrapping yourself in the soft robe, you walked downstairs, to the kitchen, where your husband was already, a cup of black coffee in one hand and the daily prophet in the other.

“Good morning.” You said as you did every morning.

“Good morning,” Regulus muttered back, as he did every morning.

Monotone, a routine, tasteless. That's how you could describe your marriage. Oh, and loveless.

“I'm going to Diagon Alley, do you need anything?” You asked, side against the doorframe.

“Can you buy more of those cinnamon rolls you brought last week?” Regulus lifted his gaze from the newspaper.

You nodded and he muttered a quiet thanks, and with that, you were off. It was always like this, boring conversations, obligatory questions, obligatory answers. He wasn't your husband, he was more like your roommate, perhaps a stranger whom you shared a roof with.

Diagon Alley was crowded, as it always was. Store after store, you stopped by the local bakery, smiling at the (apparently) only thing you had in common with your husband.

To say you didn’t care about Regulus would be a lie, even if it was an arranged marriage, and even if you two had your discrepancies in the past, he was now someone who circulated your orbit daily. Someone whom you liked it or not was going to be there for a long, long time. Regulus was more of a ghost, a phantasmagoric entity that floated around you from time to time, barely speaking, barely acknowledging your existence.

But fights? Were there too. Rather constantly.

Sometimes over nothing, sometimes over past wounds, that were still fresh, sometimes because of his family, sometimes because of yours. Fights always ended up the same, with you sobbing against your silky pillows, and Regulus sleeping in one of the guest rooms.

“Excuse me” A feminine voice behind you dragged you out of your melancholic daze. Turning around, your eyes widened as you recognised the redhead woman in front of you, with a shy smile and a baby with wild hair and green eyes in her arms. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I was just passing by and I saw you here. Say hi Harry.” She cooed at the smiling baby in her arms, who eyed you curiously.

“It’s okay.” You assured her, not sounding convinced at all. “Hello there.” You smiled at the little Harry, who just giggled, his little teeth peeking through his small lips.

“How you’ve been?” Lily asked, clearly trying to start a conversation. “I’m sorry if it seems a bit… meddlesome. It’s just, I never see you around and, you know.” She looked around, visibly nervous.

“Lily.” You spoke softly. “I understand.” You knew where this conversation was heading, and it was something you weren’t really in the mood for. “You don’t have to talk or interact with me if you don’t want to, I don’t mind.” You stopped caring about that long ago.

“I do want to!” She chirped, almost offended. She understood how difficult your situation was, but she was, after all, your stepbrother’s wife. “Harry’s birthday is next week, I was going to send you the invitation, but, hence we are here—”

“James won’t be happy to see me there.” It was true, a crude truth though. Lily frowned but didn’t object, proving you right. “I don’t want to ruin Harry’s birthday party with my presence, besides, I don’t think Regulus would even consider it, I’m pretty sure his brother will be there. ”

“Oh.” Lily quietly muttered, she didn’t think about that further. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You gave her a faux smile, one she didn’t believe at all. “Excuse me, I have to go. I’ll see you around.” Another lie. “Goodbye Harry.” You waved at the infant, who just looked at you with his big, green eyes.

The second you stepped out of the bakery, you heard Lily’s voice calling your name. Once again, you turned around, clutching the paper bag against your chest. You really wanted to go home, but you were too polite to ignore her. She approached you, with a fierce determination in her eyes.

“Look. I know James isn’t the best brother.” She didn’t use the correct title, just like she always did back at school, and James always corrected her, frustrated. “I know he was a total asshole in school, and I’m sorry I never speak up or did something to stop him. I understand family can be difficult, God, my sister? Petunia, she despites me.” She chuckled slightly, shaking her head. “I’m not trying to be a bridge between you two, I won’t force you to reach out to him either, I just want to see you happy. I’m was going to talk to James tonight, and probably scold him for everything he has done these past years, perhaps a few years late, but better late than never, right?”

It seemed too, genuine.

You were speechless. With a deep sigh, you give in, Lily was too persistent, and you were sure she wouldn’t give up, she was head girl after all.

“Fine.” You smiled, this time it was a real smile. “I’ll talk to Regulus tonight as well, I can’t promise you anything, but, I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” Your sister-in-law hugged you, for real. She smelled like peaches and cinnamon, and baby powder. “Thank you, I promise you, everything will get better.”

Everything will get better.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

“No. Absolutely no.” Regulus stood up from the armchair, frowning. “Are you out of your mind?”

“It’s just a party, Regulus.” You interjected, pinching the bridge of your nose. Why did he have to be so uptight? “It won’t hurt. Lily really wants us to go.”

“Us?” He asked, raising his hands, annoyed. “There is no us.”

He was right. There was no us.

Regulus saw, firsthand, how your chest deflated, how your gaze lowered, and how you sighed. He was right, there was no us. It was only you, It was always just you.

“I’m going to bed.” You announced, turning around to hide the tears. Fights weren’t new, but what was new, was the raw twist in his stomach, at the sounds of your sobs on the other side of the main bedroom door. Regulus pressed his back against the wooden frame, listening to how you cried. It wasn’t the first time you cried after a fight, but why did this time make him feel something?

Was it regret? Guilt? Remorse? All of the above?

He slept in the guest room that night, and as he lay on the pillows, he realized he couldn't recall when was the last time he slept next to you.

Dreams weren’t nice either, they weren’t an escape from the cruel reality. Dreams, at least for you, were a constant reminder of how miserable your life was.

Dreams. Memories. Nightmares.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

Laughs, evil laughs. Evil snaked dressed in green and silver surrounding you, mocking you. You rubbed your eyes, groaning at the sticky feeling of your fingertips over your face, your hair, your uniform. Someone spilt a glass of orange juice over your head, and no one did anything to stop them. No one cared, no one overlooked.

For the proud and ambitious house of Slytherin, you were just a poor joke. You were the insignificant excuse of a wizard, and definitely, you didn't belong with them. You were too nice, too soft, you were a gentle soul. Qualities that, the Slytherin house wasn’t quite fond of.

And they were sure to remind it every day of your school life.

Across the dining hall, students from other houses looked at you with pity, amusement and even curiosity. Were they expecting you to defend yourself? Probably. Were you going to? Probably not. Instead of giving them a piece of your mind, you just ran away. Once again, as you rubbed the orange juice off your eyes, now mixed with the salty tears of humiliation, they laughed, and their cruel barks echoed in your ears, your mind and your heart.

How did this fit in your story?

Outside, under the dark night sky, the stars were bright. Glowing carefree in the firmament. Your feet wandered around the edge of the astronomy tower, wondering how it would be to be a star. Maybe this just wasn’t your timeline. Maybe you weren’t born to succeed, to achieve great things. Everything just felt empty, flavourless, pointless. Since when did that bright smile change into a sorrowful grimace? When did everything go downhill? Questions, questions, so many questions and no answers. Shaky hands held tightly on the chilly rails of the tallest tower in Hogwarts, where the wind was colder and the stars were closer.

Have you ever dreamed of being reborn as a star? Many times. A wish, your last wish, as your feet started to move away, closer to the sky. Star light, star bright, wish you may, wish you might. Closing your eyes, ignoring the tears streaming down your cheeks, you let go of a hand, darting dangerously around the edge. Everything would be quick, painless, and that’s what you wished for the most, for the pain to just stop.

"Wait!" A voice, a masculine voice. A voice of a star, the brightest star. You opened your eyes violently, gasping at sudden vertigo in your stomach, your feet slipped, and realizing for a fraction what you were about to do. It was too late now, your hands were away from the rails, as your body sway almost gracefully, towards death.

His hand grasped yours, it hurt. Great, just what you needed, more pain. Regulus held firmly to your hand, as you sobbed. Carefully, he eased you back into the ground, your knees wobbling the second you landed on the stone floor. Hard sobs rocked your body, your heart pounding wildly inside your chest.

“Why?” You asked, between sobs. “Why did you stop me?”

“Why were you… going to—” Regulus started, breathing heavily, shocked by what he just witnessed.

“Because I knew no one would stop me.”

"I'm sorry for what happened in the Great Hall." He already said that, why did he insist upon it? "I should've said something, what they did to you was so unfair, even if…” Even if it what?

“Even if I deserved it?” You suggested with half-lidded eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Regulus kneeled next to you, keeping a prudent distance. “I didn’t mean it that way, sorry. I don’t know what to say. It was wrong, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Pity. It was pity.

“Regulus.” Hugging your knees, you inhaled the sweet scent of orange juice lingering in your uniform. “Don’t pretend you overlook me. They have been pestering me for years, and you never seemed to care about it. If this is a joke, it ain’t a funny one.”

“It’s not a joke!” He protested. “I just… never actually cared, yeah. Until now.”

Until now.

“Until now?”

Days later, you found out, what ‘Until now’, finally meant. It meant a black, wax-sealed letter, a bad omen. Just a few words were enough to crumble the little piece of peace you had.

War. Fiancé. Marriage. Regulus Black.

You threw the letter to the fire, watching it twist and burn in the desertic common room, late at night with a blanket around your shoulders. You were too immersed in your own thoughts to notice his presence. Regulus called you, making you jolt in surprise. He saw the envelope next to the fire, and the ashed on the wood confirmed his suspicions.

“So, until now, uh?” You asked, with a harsh tone, harsher than intended, not bothering to look at him.

“I’m not happy either.” His voice was a brick, and you were sure he had an unpleased frown.

“There must be a way. I’m sure.” Standing up, the blanket rolled down your shoulders, pooling on the thick green rugs. “Fuck.” You cursed under your breath. “This can’t be happening.”

“It’s borderline ironic.” Something about Regulus’ tone didn’t sit quite right with you.

“Ironic? How so?”

“She's vivid by the idea of me marrying a pureblood, a Slytherin, she didn't even care that your Mother was married to a Potter. A blood traitor, just like my br— just like Sirius.” Of course, it all came to that. Of course, Regulus was just like his family, just an elitist, classist piece of shit. “Perhaps we can tell my Mother how much of a coward and weak you are." His words tensed you, were all the Blacks so venomous? "How you aren't a real Slytherin.”

That was the last drop, your thirteen reason. “Sure, and we can tell my Mother how much of a self-centred asshole you are. How you can't see beyond your fat nose and realize there are other people besides you." Your nostrils flared with rage, no tears, just rage.

Regulus’ face contorted into one of anger, outraged by your words.

“I regret walking on you that night.” He scoffed, looking at you as if you were nothing more than a speck of dirt in his expensive leather shoes. “I wish I could travel back in time and stop myself from not letting you fucking kill yourself, giving up like the coward you are. Absolutely pathetic.” His words were pure venom, living up to his house and its emblem.

You slapped him. His face distorted into one of surprise. "I wish I had died that night. So I don't have to watch your ugly fucking face daily."

That night, like many others, you cried yourself to sleep, casting a silencing spell around your bed, hiding from the world, letting the pain consume you, poisoning your soul. Days only got worse, your grades dropped, and soon the whole school knew you were engaged to none other than the Regulus Black. Students stared at you more than usual, whispered louder than usual, and you ever wondered if you became a zoo animal without noticing it. The little contact you had with other students was now unexistent, you spent the majority of the time alone, in the library, where books couldn’t hurt you.

The library became your safe space, a bubble to hide from the real world. Standing on your tiptoes to reach the highest shelve, your attention caught a familiar voice, a loud one, too loud to be allowed in the library.

"Moony c'mon, we'll be fine!" James, it was James.

"Stop insisting, Prongs." Remus answered, and he sounded annoyed. With silent steps you walked closer to them, leaning over a bookshelf, eavesdropping on their argument. "Last full moon was a disaster."

"You know who's fault that was." That one was Peter.

"Keep it down, please." Remus sighed. "You're lucky she knows how to heal a scratch like that. Because if Madame Pomfrey ever hears about this—"

"She won't!" James interrupted him. "She said that she'll be close so if we need her, she'll be there."

You heard Remus's breath hitching. "Are you out of your damn mind? I'm not going to let her near me when I'm a fucking werewolf, Prongs."

A werewolf.

"Calm down, Moony, we know is your time of the month." Sirius's teasing tone only had the opposite effect. "Ouch! Fine, fine, I'll stop. But don’t pinch me like that, it hurts.”

“Great, now shut up.” Remus groaned, annoyed.

It made perfect sense. Years ago, you heard Severus teasing him in one of the few classes you shared with them, calling him "Loony Lupin", a freak, pointing out his scars... Speaking of scars, he had a lot of them.

A couple of essays and works about werewolves had taught you only one thing: They were cruel creatures and extremely dangerous, but, Remus never, in a thousand years looked like a cruel person, he was the only one of James's close friends who had never actively participated in your stepbrother's antics to humiliate you and bother you, but he didn't do anything to stop him either, and you learned the hard way that doing nothing was also part of the problem.

“I still can’t believe you three spent three damn years, putting your lives at risk to become an animagus.” Remus scoffed, but then laughed. “You guys are insane.”

“Hey,” Sirius said. “Anything for our Moony.”

What the hell was happening? First werewolves and now animagus? It really, really, really made perfect sense. Padfoot, Moony, Prongs and Wormtail.

If James and his friends could transform themselves into an animagus, how hard could it be?

It was hard, extremely hard.

It could be considered delusional and psychotic, attempt it without previous preparations, and professional supervision. Being young and naive makes you do stupid things, just for the sake of being accepted and loved. Book after book, the migraine drilled deeply into your skull, it was borderline impossible. After two weeks of exasperating research, two broken quills and a roll of paper, you always ended up with the same conclusion: It was dangerous. Becoming an animagus without any type of help or supervision from the Ministry of Magic was basically a premeditated suicide.

Constantly asking yourself how could they manage to do it without getting caught, how were their methods, how were they still alive? After your third attempt that night, hiding in the Astronomy tower, your whole body ached, a bad move could ruin your life forever, becoming a half-human half-animal, or in the worst case, becoming a corpse. The books you had scattered around the cold floor were useless now, they only repeated the same words with different fonts, words that only vanished your enthusiasm. You didn’t have enough time, enough skills and enough confidence.

"Come on, come on." You whispered to yourself, closing your eyes, feeling the magic flowing through your veins, powerful, strong, earthly. It felt natural, it felt yours.

It was there, you could feel it. You were so, so close. Your whole body tingled, the sparkles in your soul the purpose of your efforts igniting the magic within you. Just a little bit more...

It was gone, and you groaned in pain. It vanished as quickly as it approached, four failed attempts were enough for that night. So, while throwing the useless books inside your backpack, you walked back to your dorm carefully to not be caught by Flitch or Mrs Norris.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

Full moon. It was time, it was your last chance.

It was risky, worst case scenario you could die, your corpse rotting the night. But, death wasn't a thing you were afraid of, at least not anymore. You planned every single step that night, you went through it the whole week. You avoided Regulus, you avoided James, you avoided everything and everyone. The hardest thing was to know when and how to follow them. You knew they were leaving the castle at any time soon, you were a smart girl after all. Logically, Remus couldn't transform near school, for the safety of other students and himself. Dungeons? No, inside the school it was impossible, very noticeable too, and too easy to guess. It must be out of the school grounds.

The first step was to successfully walk out of the school without being caught, and perhaps one (if not) of the most challenging (asides from the transformation itself), then all you had to do is wait. Wait for a signal, for voices, steps, anything. Hiding outside of the castle, next to the greenhouses, the night air was cold, really cold. Wrapping yourself in your jumper, you waited to hide next to a pile of dirt sacks, patiently.

Forty minutes or so later, when you started to doubt your plan, you heard them. Not them exactly, but you could recognize McGonagall's voice everywhere. Taking a quick peek, Madame Pomfrey was also there, and they were escorting Remus, who was silent between the two women. Taking a prudent distance, you followed them all the way to the Whimpering Willow, and you watched in awe how McGonagall with a flick of her wand paralyzed the tree, walking right into a hole next to the prominent roots, followed by Remus and Poppy. So, there was a secret passage. It made sense. But where did it lead them to? Hiding behind a big rock, you waited again. Until they returned, chatting in a low voice.

Until you were sure they were far gone, this was your only chance. Mimicking Minerva's movements, you hoped a simple paralyzing spell would do the trick, and to your surprise it did. Wasting no time, you slid under the tree, scratching your hand as you did so, wiping the little pearls of blood in your jumper. The dark pathway was lugubrious, and you weren't exactly sure where it would lead you, you reached the end, and a weak ray of the pale moonlight guided your steps until you were outside of the Shrieking Shack. This was an excellent location, away from Hogwarts and away from Hogsmeade, plus, the abandoned house had the reputation of being haunted, so, naturally, no one approached it. It was brilliant!

You heard voices, and this time it was them. Running to the nearest tree, you hid behind it, cold sweat running down your face. The unmistakable sound of Sirius' laugh filled your ears, and you watched how the entered the house. The moon was almost at its peak, almost ready to take its protagonism in the dark sky.

A deep, crucifying silence reigned over the terrain until you heard it. A howl, a deep, loud howl, mixed with pain and ache. It was your signal to go with the final step. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Inhaling, exhaling. It was now or never.

There it was again, that sensation running through your veins, pumping magic through every cell of blood. Your skin felt warm, tingling, you felt every hair, every pore. Taking a deep, long breath, you closed your eyes. Wand in hand, you took another profound breath, placing your wand-tip against your heart, begging to the stars.

“Amato Animo Animato Animagus.”

Blazing pain and an intense shiver ran through your body. The bright moon witnessed everything, how your body contorted in agony, your heartbeat was loud, hard and fast, and then it stopped, for a brief instant. Then two. Double heartbeat. It was too late now. There was no going back. A dark cloud fogged your mind, and it happened, you saw it, inside your head, and it was beautiful, it was graceful, it was you. The fear that followed you through the transformation started to crumble your bravery, but surrendering only meant one thing:

Death.

Opening your eyes, everything was… different. The sounds were louder, the scents were stronger. The perspective was abysmal, what was big was now small, and raising your gaze, there it was, the full moon, golden and proud, smiling softly at you, or at least it seemed to.

Their scent was strong, mixed and together, they were a pack. You heard them from miles around, and the rational voice inside your mind kept you in line, it would be too abrupt to approach them firsthand. Sneaking silently around the abandoned building, you devoured your surroundings, every rock, every stick, every curve. The fresh imprint of paws guided you through the woods, closer and closer to the forbidden forest. Still keeping a safe distance, you joined their voices, still hesitant.

The big, grey wolf was the first one to approach you. Slowly at first, reluctant. Were you a friend or an enemy? The tension was high in the skies. He growled, cautious. It was him, it had to be him. He sniffed the air, your scent, and taking a seat, he maintained eye contact, narrowing his golden eyes.

You didn’t felt threatened at all. It was an innofensive interaction, you could smell his curiosity, if that was even possible, or even rational. The atmosphere relaxed for a bit, and the wolf laid down, resting his snot in his long paws. He accepted your presence, but it wasn’t an invitation either. You chirped happily, progress was progress.

Until, the rest of them emerged from the shadows. Larger than you, stronger, angrier. They didn’t liked you, at you could sense their discomfort and hazard. The large, black dog, barked at you, a simple warning: ‘Stay away’. You remained still, blinking slowly, showing them no harm was planned. At least not from your part. The stag was the biggest of them all, with enormous, extravagant horns, graceful swirls in a soft bone colour. The usual prey now looked and acted like a true predator, and the brownish stag was the first one to walk closer to you, looming over you. Stretching his neck, the animal attempted a showoff of dominance, to express how proud and unwelcoming he was.

Behind him, the black dog growled again at you, this time louder. A second warning: ‘Leave’. But you didn’t. You remained still, strong-willed.

A sudden high-pitched squeal caught your attention, and you observed how the wolf was stepping on the tail of a abnormal big rat, not in a dangerous way, more leaning into a playful manner. Unfortunately, letting your guard down for a brief second was a mistake. The black dog pounced, this was the third and final warning. He hovered over you, the drool dripping down his canines. Rolling over a couple times, you tried to fight back, but it was hard, this new form was still new, and your movements were clumsy and dull.

His sharp teeth were wrapped around your throat, hard enough to pierce the skin but not to be considered mortal. The primal instinct of survival ran through your veins, and using every ounce of strength you had in your animalistic personage, you pushed him off you. It wasn’t a fair fight though. The painful stab of the Stag’s horns against your sides caught you off guard once again.

Wheeling over the dirt, you hissed in pain, panting. The adrenaline was high and the anxiety too. Loud alarms inside your head screamed at you. Run, run, run. On all fours, you sprinted away, quickly being pursued by the two aggressive animals. The wolf’s howling broke the silence surrounding you, it was a long, melancholic howl. From the sounds of heavy steps behind you, you knew they were getting closer. They knew how to move, you didn’t. Your legs gave up, sore and pristine to this new anatomy. Those sharp, brutal teeth caught the flesh of one of your back legs, as you cried in distress.

«No, no, no, this can’t be the way I die.» The rational and human voice inside your head sobbed.

A flash of gray freed you from the dog’s grip. The two canines fought against each other, barking and howling at each other, as if its human sides were in a heated argument. You suddenly remembered, the stag was still there, and you wouldn’t comit the same mistake twice.

Duels for you, were never fair, less, if your adversary was your stepbrother, James.

The stag was stronger and bigger, but you were lighter and faster. Dodging every lunge and assault, the strong scents of their proximity clouded your common senses. This wasn’t correct, you never meant to hurt them, especially him. For a very strange reason, you still cared for him, even after all he had done.

Bright, warm rays of sunshine dazzled you, the sun was rising, which only meant one thing; The world stopped for a minute, and everyone ran back to the Shrieking Shack, where they were supposed to be in the first place, but this was far from over.

Running back to your first hiding spot, you closed your eyes again, resting your shivering form against an old tree trunk, accumulating all the last resilience you had to transform back. If someone had told you a month ago, you would’ve been hurriedly dressing back up, bleeding for a hundred superificial wounds, next to the Shrieking Shack, you would tell them they were out of their fucking mind. The sun was brushing the horizon, carefree, as the moon waved back, ready to leave and gossip with the stars. With trembling steps, you walked towards the haunted house, panting, one hand making pression on your stomach, where your most profound wound was.

Inside the old place, it reeked of dirt, old magic and a hint of cinnamon, and maybe citrus, and odd combination, to say the least. Their voices were loud whispers, and, turning around a corner, you found them.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” James shouted, however, this time you didn’t backed away, to hide and cry.

You were too tired to run away.

“You almost killed me!” You snapped back, surprising him with your offputting attitude.

“Stop,” Remus interjected, standing up from a broken, dusty bed, just to groan slightly in pain and sit back down. “Shit—. She knows, she knows too much.” His face was bloody, he was wrapped in a yellow blanket, his silver scars peeking through the fabric along with new ones, angry red and still bleeding.

“Fucking idiot.” James stepped closer, clutching your shoulder. “You ruin everything. You’re so selfish, you are so stupid.” He continued, unloading his anger on you, just like he always did. “Do you know the risk you made us take? Just because of your senseless actions!”

“James.” Remus called him again, this was going too far.

“Remus, he’s right.” Sirius spat, sharing the same venomous look his brother did, nights ago in the Slytherin’s common room. “She knows too much, and if she opens her big, fucking mouth, it would be the end of us.”

“She’s not going to, right?” James pressed, looking at you dead in the eye, you had never seen him this furious before. “She won’t if she knows what’s good. You’re just a self-centred bitch, you can’t stand people having friends right? Just because you’re a loner and no one fucking likes you—”

You slapped him, all across the cheek, knocking off his glasses and successfully shutting him up. Tears ran down your muddy cheeks, this was it, this was your limit.

“Me? Me?!” It was your turn to shout. “Since I met you, you've done nothing but make my life miserable!” Breathing heavily, chest rising with the unpleasant feeling of resentment and rancor. “I did everything! I tried everything for you to like me! I just wanted to be your fucking friend James. I just wanted to fucking be happy, for once!”

“So you became an animagus, in the ridiculous attempt to join us?” His tone was mocking, the tone every student used to address you. “Pathetic. I would never like you, you’re just a lying snake. You don’t care about us, or my father, your mother is just marrying him for Godric knows what. You would never be part of my family.”

“I fucking hate you!” You stomped your shoe at the creaking wood flooring. “I fucking hate you James, you’re just an arrogant piece of shit! You think everyone likes you, you think you’re the greatest, but no. You are just a pretentious, smug fucking loser. You’re the one who doesn’t belong to Gryffindor, you’re a bigger snake than I would ever be!”

James pushed you, face red with rage. You collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain, from head to toe your body was sore, every inch of skin screamed in agony.

“Take it back.” He demanded, forcing you to look at him. “You think you hate me? Then I hate you ten fucking times more.” He spat. No one uttered a word. “I wish you were dead, I wish my father had never married your golddigger mother. You don’t deserve my last name, my house, anything!”

“Fuck off!” You replied, kicking him, crawlinging backwards, attempting to move away from him. “Get away from me!” His hand yanked your hair, making you sob.

“You’re fucking dead to me. I would never, ever see you as an equal. You’re nothing, you’re useless. Everything everyone says in school is true. You’re nothing more than a pathetic mistake, and you dare to call me a loser? At least I have friends.” He let go, turning around to pick up his glasses. “Everyone is right; You are just a hindrance. You don’t belong anywhere.

“One day.” You promised. “One day you will fucking regret those words.”

James laughed, Sirius laughed, Peter was to stunned to speak, and Remus was too tired to even think properly, besides, this wasn’t his battle. Nor of Sirius, or Peter.

In the end, it was always, only you.

Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. I appreciate any feedback!˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

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