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willowbleedsonpaper · 3 years

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Winter In The Shade XIII

Part XIII

Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader

W.C. : 2622

Requested by @pogueslandia : It is Sirius’ fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter’s. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?

Warnings: None (Let me know if there's any, though)

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“Sending someone to wake me up it’s not what a best friend would do, Black.” you muttered, running your hands through your hair as you brushed it away from your face with your fingers.

“Is your roommate still alive?” he asked with a knowing smile, standing straight from his previous position leaning on the wall outside your common room.

That day you hadn’t woken up with the soft sunlight over your face, your skin warm to the touch as you stretched the sleep out of your body, you didn’t wake up to the distant chatter of the rest of the Ravenclaws at the common room or to the smell of your roommates perfumes after they had showered. No. You woke up to the harsh grasp of Anne, one of your roommates, shaking you awake like some natural event was happening and you all had to run out of the castle. Did natural disasters even dare to touch Hogwarts? You didn’t have the time to ask, the urgence in her voice when she told you some Slytherin boy was looking for you outside enough to make your own worry wash away with a groan, turning your back and diving deeper in your bed.

“He said it was important.”

“I’m sure.” you mumbled, your face buried in your pillow as you lifted your head, muttering under your breath as you got out of bed like a grumpy child.

“She’s breathing.” you assured him, a glare permanent in your face as you started to walk beside him “To what do I owe the pleasure of rising this early in the morning?” you asked bitterly.

“You’re the worst.” he said with a hint of humor, making you turn to him in both shock and a deeper glare.

“Excuse you?” you said.

“I play Quidditch, today is the game.” he reminded you, the vague memory of those words being told to you before coming back to you “You asked me to come and look for you just before it began.”

“You’re playing this early?” you asked, looking outside the windows in the corridor to see the sun was barely out in the sky “You’re not playing, Reg. That’s called torture, someone like you should know that.” you said, nudging his side with your arm.

He stayed silent, turning to you before he quickly glanced away. “What do you mean?” he asked.

You looked at him, taking his change of humor in before you answered “You and your habit of making me wake up early.” you explained, but there was no humor behind your words anymore. “Are you sure you feel alright?”

He took a deep breath, one you barely noticed before he nodded firmly. “Of course.” he answered “You’re right, it’s too early. I’m not fully awake yet.” he said, patting his cheeks gently with the pads of his fingers, making you shake your head and laugh. “I thought we could have breakfast together, before the game.”

“I-” you said, linking your arm with his “would absolutely love that.”

Regulus led the both of you to the mostly empty Great Hall, breakfast being served to the few early birds like Regulus that chose to raise with the sun. You would never understand but you had, literally , asked for it.

You seated on your usual spot, your eyelids still a little heavy while you saw Regulus moved gracefully.

“Your tea.” he said, handing you a cup with careful movements.

“How thoughtful.” you answered, taking the cup from his hands as you took a slow sip “But I think if you want me to survive this day I might need something a little stronger.”

He rolled his eyes and said nothing, as he switched his cup with yours with a swift movement across the table.

You looked down in shock at your new cup, the dark liquid reflecting your image and showing exactly how you felt “Since when do you drink coffee?” you asked in a whispered scream.

He glanced at you with little expression on his face “I took a liking to it during the winter break.” he explained.

“Winter break?” you questioned “Did your mother take a liking to it too or what? You’ve never even looked in its direction, not even when I tried to force it on you.” you said, spitting the words. Your arms laid crossed over your chest, your glare set on your face as you saw him shrug.

“It’s because you tried to force it on me that I didn’t try it.” he said back, both of you entering in a small fight over his new liking to the warm beverage, your body language becoming more prominent as you both started to lean on the table, hands pointing everywhere while trying to keep your voices hushed.

“They look like an old couple.” James said from the other end of the Great Hall, taking a bite of his breakfast as he glanced at the silence of Sirius.

“Stop.” Remus warned him, snapping his fingers in front of Sirius “They’ll feel you staring and it’ll be worse for her.”

“Maybe he should feel my stare.” Sirius snapped, lowering his gaze and taking his emotions out on his own breakfast, a fork his weapon of choice.

You hadn't even seen Sirius when you got to the Great Hall but he had heard your laugh the moment you turned right on the door, holding onto his brother’s arm like nothing had happened. Did you forget all that he said? Were you that great of an actress? The smile that inevitably appeared on his face at any sign of you was completely washed away when you two sat down and started talking like you always had.

He wanted that.

“You should talk to her.” Remus offered but James cut him short.

“I don’t get what the big issue is! So your brother is her best friend, why should that stop you from dating her?”

“You forgot the part where Regulus is a Slytherin with the mind and ideas of Sirius’ parents that hates him for being him.” Remus said, all three pairs of eyes on him with an unnatural silence “Don’t look at me like that, you know I’m right.”

“Didn’t have to be so harsh about it.” Peter murmured in his side while Sirius just stared blankly with hopelessness in his eyes.

“Point is,” James added, slinging his arm over Sirius’ shoulders and giving Remus a glare “He already hates you, why not give him one more reason?”

Sirius groaned, moving out of James' hold “Because she doesn’t want him to hate her.”

“She might have to pick.” James added, a bright smile on his lips. “And we all know who would win, right?” he asked, looking for Remus and Peter’s support but only finding his subtle shaking of heads, making all confidence in James fade.

“Yeah, Prongs.” Sirius said, pointing his hand in your direction as he let it fall with a thud on the table, the act of defeatment “The one in the old couple wins. Look at them! Everyone already thinks that they are secretly dating. I stand no chance.”

The three Marauders stared at their friend in disbelief. A side of Sirius Black they never expected to see coming to shine from the dark, making its way into the world for everyone to see it. Sirius Black, the boy who had all the ladies running after him, the one who had no trouble using his skills to have everyone down on their knees and that knew he was worth it of it all and more, that same Sirius Black that now hid his head in between his arms for a Ravenclaw girl who had the heart and wit to befriend his brother and become the shadow of one another.

Sirius Black cared for the girl enough to put his own desires aside and let her be happy, to keep his friendship. The only person she had left in the school. That wasn’t true anymore, but he knew it was the truth for his brother. A brother that deep down he still cared about, he knew that the girl sitting in front of him was his entire world and he didn’t have the heart to hurt two people he cared about for his own happiness. As selfish as Sirius Black was, this time he didn’t want to be. He just hoped he had the strength to keep that promise to himself.

*******

The air up on the bleachers was cold against your cheeks. The day had gotten a little cloudy and you could smell in the air a storm coming in the school direction. You just hoped it wouldn’t start as you watched the game. Moving through all of your housemates you found a seat in the front, a seat for someone who went there all by themselves, someone like you. You went for the sole purpose of watching Regulus play, something you two didn’t share in liking but he was still passionate about, you loved seeing the smile on his face while he flew on his broom.

The students divided themselves without even realizing it, covering the deep blue colors of the Ravenclaw house you could find the team they supported for the day. Dark red banners flew in the air while others jumped with green pieces of clothing. Of course, you didn’t stay behind. Covering the blue of your robes there was a green scarf around your neck. Regulus had wrapped it around your neck just before you went your separate ways, you wished him luck and watched him go to the changing rooms.

But now you didn’t feel sure about it. Wishing you could divide your body and paint one side with the colors of Gryffindor while the other flashed the usual greens.

It wasn’t every day that the two houses played against one another, the natural rivalry making the game all the more interesting for those who enjoyed the competition. They might not be the best teams or the greatest players, but they were the houses of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. The tension in the air was stronger than the one of the upcoming storm.

Your attention was captured from inside your head the moment the wind swept your hair out of your face, green and silver flying in the air as each player took their position. They waved proudly, the cheers loud and full of excitement.

Then the Gryffindor team make their appearance. The crowd burst with energy as the team flew around, waving to all the people in the bleachers. It wasn’t unknown how popular they were. Marlene Mckinnon was in their team, one of the prettiest girls in the school, a true Gryffindor and quidditch player. Then you could count on the charisma of James Potter, captain and star. And then there was Sirius, you were certain most people who usually didn’t show up to quidditch games were there only for Sirius.

But then inevitable happened. Sirius flew just above from where you stood, looking down at you with a smile. He moved through the air in a subtle way, glancing in different directions but inevitably ending on you. He flashed you his brightest smile, pointing to his neck as he shook his head.

You looked down, seeing the Slytherin scarf around your neck and feeling a blush come up to your cheeks.

His smile returned to his face, winking in your direction before he dissapeared in the distance. The game began minutes after.

Of course he would make a big entrance in your life after being missing for days. Only he would do that.

Your bubble burst when the cheers to your right began increasing in volume, seeing Gryffindor had scored. You restrained yourself to slow claps, James bumping fists with Marlene as they went back to their positions. The game was getting more interesting by the minute.

The last few minutes had you on the edge of your seat. The scores were even, the Slytherins played sharper and the Gryffindors rougher. Regulus had been after the snitch with no luck, almost fighting the Gryffindor seeker every time each of them caught a glimpse of it. Your eyes were focused on the black haired boy, his eyes snapping to all directions at the slightest sound and then he was gone. You tried to follow him but he was too fast, your neck too sore from trying to keep up, finally losing him in the crowd of players. Still you found your new focus.

Sirius flew through the middle of the field, following close to James as he kept the Slytherin team away from him, the Quaffle secured under his arm. They worked in sync, James flying higher and faster. He wasted no time once he got his shot, throwing the Quaffle with a swift swing of his arm.

Just then the game ended but the cheers grew as every single person joined in. All the players looked down, you following as your eyes widened in surprise. You shot up in your place, throwing your hands in the air. Regulus held the snitch in his hand.

Confusion filled the place as everyone wondered who had won. The game ended with Gryffindor having more points but Regulus caught the golden snitch.

You lowered your arms, looking at Regulus as he met your gaze. He shrugged, going to the ground where all the players were shouting their arguments to the teachers.

A couple of minutes in silence followed as everyone observed the crowd down in the pitch, the frustration clear in their faces. They were throwing their hands in the air, pointing at each other and shouting, the echo of their voices reaching the high part of the bleachers.

“Gryffindor wins!” yelled the student that had been commenting on the entire game. The crowd burst into loud cheers once more, some running down to the pitch while others hugged right there. The energy was too heavy and you couldn’t help but join in, letting out a shout as you jumped in your place.

You ran down to the ground, body clashing against many students going in the opposite direction. And then you met his eyes, far away in the distance, Sirius stood tall over many of the students that were congratulating the team but his gaze remained on you, a smile mirrored in both your faces as you started to walk in his direction, unknowing of Regulus watching you from the side.

He stared at your smile, one he had never seen in your face, and followed the direction of your eyes. It was a sea of people, all of them sharing the smile on your lips but not one sharing the feeling.

Just before you got away from him he reached for you, tapping your shoulder as he followed your step.

“Reg!” you gasped, turning to the side before you pointed at him. “I-I could’ve sworn I saw you over there.” you said, pointing in the direction you were headed.

“I’m right here.” he told you “You look far too happy for someone whose best friend just lost a game because of bad timing.”

You laughed, smiling smugly at him “And I’m the bad loser.”

“It was bad timing and you know it.” he said, about to add something else when he closed the gap from his mouth, seeing your eyes lost in the distance, glancing between him and whatever had captured your attention.

You shook your head and turned fully to him, taking his arm and dragging him with you “If only you were faster.” you mocked, returning to the conversation like nothing had happened.

“If only.” he whispered, letting himself follow your step as he took one last glance over his shoulder.

Gryffindor.

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#winter in the shade #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x ravenclaw!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #regulus black #marauders era fanfiction

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embrassemoi · 3 years

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Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 20

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors A/N: Some ppl asked for a playlist... so ofc I made one!

Series Playlist or Chap 20 Playlist

【 Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 】

Chapter 20: Little Lion Man

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When Regulus was younger, his aunt Andromeda and Sirius were obsessed with Muggle stories. Andromeda would send them loads of books every month to the local Muggle post office to prevent their parents from confiscating them. He remembers the ten minute walks there and back, Sirius holding his hand tight, even stopping to buy ice cream during the warmer seasons. They would greet the delivery men and women, picking up a heavy stack of wrapped books before waddling out, each boy mirroring a large grin.

Every night at twilight, when their parents were asleep, Sirius would crawl into his bed and read to Regulus in a hushed voice. He would read a different story every night, lulling him to sleep. Sirius spent hours gushing about the fantastical tales Muggles wrote; how magical and mystical their minds were despite not having an ounce of magical blood. From Superman to Batman, the Joker to Daleks, Prince Caspian to King Miraz; Regulus quickly learned that they all had one common theme: the good guys and the bad guys.

Regulus often spent his time grappling with the notion; what made someone good? Because the definition changes depending on the person.

Were the good guys good because they were selfless — passionate? Those deemed good never let themselves be seen as selfish. The heroes would sacrifice themselves for the greater good, even going as far as giving up their loved ones. Or maybe it was because they went against the odds. But villains did that too.

So he re-worded the question; what made someone bad? Was it their selfishness or greed? Was it putting themselves above others? Did they know they were on the wrong side of history? Make a mistake, once, twice — but surely, that didn’t make someone bad. Did it?

If virtue is understood by both sides, then the bad guys would immediately cross that line time and time again. They lacked wisdom and truthfulness, filled with too much pride and vanity.

But now as he began to grow up far too quickly for a fourteen-year-old boy, he realized that there was more to people than just being good or evil, a saviour or tormentor, light versus darkness.

The definition of good and bad depended on who told the story and Regulus didn’t know who controlled his; him or his parents. The line was so blurred that he couldn’t objectively make the decision himself anymore. Was he more bad than good?

Laughter — rich and inviting beckoned throughout the library, snapping him out of his thoughts again; but it did nothing but chip away at his heart. Regulus got up, shoving his books and parchment into his bag, making sure to hide his face before they saw him. Today, the Marauders had come earlier than expected and he was caught off guard. He’d been doing everything to avoid them out of pure shame.

Before he went to turn, he eyed Sirius from the shadows. He smiled, carefree and happy, clinging onto Pettigrew, ruffling his hair like he once did to him.

What made them so special, so loved and cherished by Sirius? How were they able to make him laugh so effortlessly, able to brighten his day with a mere glance? What made them more of a family than he ever was to him?

But he knew, it was their family’s values and it had been taunting him every waking moment.

It’s not like he didn’t want to escape that night, but he wasn’t Sirius. He was never as bright or strong or as good as him. Sirius was bold and courageous and certainly had more bravery than he would ever have. Regulus was far too weak, a puppet for his parents to control. Sirius was everything Regulus was too afraid to be — a reminder of what he could have turned into.

Besides, there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that his parents would have killed Kreacher had he left. And this way with Sirius gone, it left Regulus to be the sole heir. Sirius was free, not being hunted down by his parents now that he bore the title. That was his gift to him, freeing Sirius of all the responsibilities, pain and grief. He owed him that much. Besides, Regulus had already mourned the childhood he never had; that made everything easier.

The day Sirius left was the day before they were set to leave for Hogwarts again and the impact of his absence was massive. He no longer heard the thumping of loud Muggle music nor the clanking of piano keys or doors slamming shut. There wasn’t any screaming aside from his parents shrieking at him for taking his father's wand. The stairs creaked; he could even hear Kreacher padding his way to his room.

It was eerily quiet and lifeless in that damned house, and he was only gone for a day.

Regulus hadn’t been taking it well. Nearly every night, his face was pressed into a pillow muffling his sobs. Sirius had kept his promise, he hadn’t talked to him since.

If only he had a scarlet tie…

Ha! He could laugh; he’d been trying to get his attention in little ways. He’d even gone as far as growing out his hair to match his — coping by writing letters every night with words he wished he could’ve said before storing them in a box under his bed. Forever unsent. Hell, Regulus was a coward, every bit as pathetic as Sirius deemed.

Ever the winter break, his parents were relentless, dumping everything that was meant for Sirius onto him. Letters were sent daily; there were talks about an arranged marriage, lumps of money now being transferred under his name, getting the dark mark… and he was being watched. Every interaction he had, his parents always knew. Especially with Muggleborns; he had to limit his interactions with them to almost nothing, or it wouldn’t end well for either.

His mind reeled back to that night, where his parents and extended family toyed with that blonde Muggle, leaving her half-dead on the dining table, the image branded in his head. It made him sick just thinking about it, he never knew what happened to her, he was too busy trying to muffle out her screams.

Regulus had been questioning everything he was taught. Sirius’ words echoed in his head; was he willing to kill Muggleborns solely because of their blood status? He's a believer in old values and traditions: yes, blood should be kept pure, but to kill Muggles… that was completely different. He’d seen how his dearly beloved aunt was burned off the tapestry, threatened and almost killed for marrying a Muggleborn — a Muggleborn who he’s met and liked and respected. His family tortured them for the sake of it and more. That wasn’t the move of someone good, those were the actions of someone evil; filled with greed, spite and selfishness. But how was he going to stop a whole bloodline from their mania?

Some may call it obedience, the way he’s listened to his parents all these years blindly, but to him, it’s respect. But did he believe that? Did they deserve to be respected? He was miserable and this wasn’t a healthy way to show filial piety.

What did he believe in?

Perhaps there wasn’t such a thing, good or evil, maybe there was only power.

Regulus was lost and confused and most of all, lonely. He remembered Sirius promised him once, before the day he was set to leave for Hogwarts for the first time, that he would never be alone. What a funny thing, promises.

Tears were forming fast and if he didn’t leave then, they would fall any second now. He needed to get out of the library.

Regulus asked himself again; what made someone good or bad — or rather, was he good or bad? He’s veering towards bad.

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After catching word from Mary that Remus’ birthday was approaching, Y/N had been knitting him a sweater in her spare time (or trying to). It was sweet, simple and showed that she’d put effort into it, especially since he taught her. Although, the sweater was lopsided and she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of a certain stitch or how to close sections. Perhaps she should use magic.

Her fingers fiddled with the needle, looping the yarn over the other side. Without looking up, she made a sharp turn into the library before crashing into a hunched-over figure; sniffling and a complete mess.

An apology dangled from her lips before recognizing the figure as Regulus. It had been two months since she’d last seen him and in short, he looked like shit. His skin was grey and lost all sense of a youthful dewy glow. If Sirius had dark eye circles or Remus looked tired, Regulus beat them by miles.

Y/N stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do before gently patting his shoulder. “Regulus?” She asked softly, nothing more than a whisper.

There was a flash of pure terror as he looked up, his eyes nervous as his head spun around to look around the place like he always did. He looked mad, almost unhinged as his hands gently pushed her away, signalling for her to leave. “I — I can’t be seen around you.”

“Can’t? What are you going on abo —” She cut herself off, ignoring the matter entirely. He clearly wasn’t in the right mindset.

His voice was strained, quiet as he kept on murmuring, he almost sounded angry. “You can’t — we’ll both get in trouble. Y/N, go — please… ”

At this, Y/N felt her skin rise in small goosebumps. She looked back to the library, just making out her friend’s figures before looking down at Regulus again. She wasn’t going to leave him like this: crying and delusional.

She took a deep inhale before bending down, picking up her needles and yarn off the ground and slipped them into her bag. She placed a cautious arm around Regulus to keep him upright. “Come with me.” But Regulus wouldn’t budge, not until she flicked down her hood, obscuring her face.

She led him up to the astronomy tower, walking and twisting around before setting him down on a nearby bench, making sure to lock any entrances. They sat in silence, aside from Regulus attempting to regulate his breathing. The cold whipping wind tossed his hair and sank into her bones. With a few charms, they were both warm again, but still able to breathe in the crisp air.

He remained quiet. Y/N didn’t push. Instead, she began babbling softly about random things to distract him. When she heard a sharp exhale of air, mimicking a half-hearted chuckle was when she knew he had calmed down.

“Thank you,” he muttered. It’s quiet, barely above a whisper. Regulus’ cheeks were pink, colour finally returning to him from either embarrassment or the cold.

“Any time,” she smiled warmly. Her hand reaches into her bag, fishing out the snacks that were meant for the study group: blackberries that were for Remus, a muffin for Marlene, were now shared between them. She tried to encourage him to eat, to regain any sort of energy.

He listened without complaint, a tense yet thankful air engulfed them. It was only until he finished the food, about an hour gone by, was when he spoke again. “Why are you being so nice to me.” It’s not even a question, just an odd accusation.

She thinks for a while, searching for the best answer. “I wished someone was there for me when I was going through a hard time.”

“But you don’t know me.”

Her eyebrows raised, “Well, let’s get to know each other then. I’ll tell you something about myself and then you can go?”

Regulus looked up at her with a calculated expression, cautious and looked uncomfortable but he nodded.

“Let’s start simple. I have an owl named Celeste.”

He gulped, looking back to the entrance. His answer came delayed, strained and she wondered if she had pushed him too far. “I play the violin.”

Y/N smiled largely. “The violin is beautiful! Hmm… I can’t ride a broomstick to save my life, unlike you.”

At this, he smiles — a real genuine smile that causes his eyes to crinkle and sparkle. “Really?” His eyes burned with curiosity before he looked down, “I can’t swim.”

“Swim?” She repeats, chuckling to herself, “Who doesn’t know how to swim?”

“You’re making me feel grand. Terribly uncalled for.”

Her eyes rolled, “You should learn. It can save your life one day. Who wants to drown?”

“Maybe I’ll ask McGonagall — I heard for tougher punishments she’ll throw you into the black lake.”

“You’re the perfect candidate then.”

After a while, way past curfew, Regulus seemed cheerier; his tear-stained cheeks now replaced with a smile and relaxation. That day, Y/N unaware, was a day Regulus would never forget.

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March 8th, 1976

“Sirius, shut up.”

“You’re the one yelling!”

“... Right.”

Excused from their afternoon classes because their Puffskein was about to hatch, the Marauder’s dorm was bustling with panic and bickering. When Y/N partnered with Sirius for their project, she expected fighting (which happened every day) but not for Sirius to be like this. He’d been running around the dorm, grabbing warm towels, bowls of water and taking out his panic on her. He gripped his textbook, flicking through notes to see if they had everything. It was as if he was preparing for the birth of an actual baby.

She silently watched him, her mind thinking about Regulus rather than their project. This was the only time she and Sirius were alone and wondered if she should mention his freakout the other day but stopped — it didn’t take a genius to know they weren’t on friendly terms.

Since that night, she’d seen Regulus almost daily, but only at night before their study group. She would spend an hour or so with him before the Marauder or girls came barraging in; Regulus left before they appeared. The entire situation left her deeply confused, worried and most of all, suspicious.

“We need Kettleburn —”

Annoyance began nipping at her. “Calm down.”

“I’m not going to calm down!”

Sirius paced, both firing snide jabs. Too preoccupied in his panicked state, he didn’t hear the quiet cracking of the white shell, forming the shape of a lightning bolt before cascading over.

“Um, Black?”

“Let’s not start. How are you so —”

“Get your ass over here now!”

Sirius pressed his lips together immediately and rushed over, both huddled side by side near the roaring fireplace. The shell twitched, cracking more and they both gasped in amazement. The process was faster than either expected as they saw the small tuft of cream fur peek out along with a pair of black eyes. Its long pink tongue slipped out, already looking for its first meal. Y/N scrambled to grab a nearby dish of dried spiders to feed it while Sirius cradled it in his hand. His smile was wide, buzzing with excitement as he observed it. His hands gently glided over the soft fur as it emitted a low humming sound.

A deep chuckle erupts from Sirius and she could feel the vibrations from how close they were. His laugh, which once made her cringe, now made her skin feel fuzzy and heart flutter. But, it wasn’t like that, she thinks. Of course not! She still wants to jinx him, maybe even throw him into the fireplace. Yes, that’s it.

She snaps out of her violent thoughts when she finds Sirius already looking at her, a pretty flush to his skin as he observes her softly. Her brows crinkled; instead of a frown or on the cusp on an insult, he smiles.

“Do you want to hold it?” Y/N nods eagerly. Sirius shifts his body, placing the Puffskein in the palms of her hands. It’s incredibly soft, adorable and when it leans into her, falling asleep, she swore she fell in love.

“What do you want to name it?” She mumbled, afraid that if she were any louder it might wake it up. Sirius takes a long time to ponder and Y/N braces herself for an insult, already thinking of a plethora of her own.

“It looks like porridge… Oatmeal!”

“Are you serious?”

“I’d be worried if I wasn’t.”

Y/N tries to suppress her smile but fails. The Puffskein did look like a grain of oatmeal. Plain and simple, she liked it.

“Hello, Oats! You’re so cute — I could just eat you up!”

“Morbid much.”

Hours went by before they ultimately decided to head down to Kettleburn’s office for an examination of Oats’ health. Sirius cradled it in a small blanket, shielding it from the rest of the world. Marlene and Dorcas were standing by the sidelines, joining them as they walked past.

“Yours hatched already? Aw, it looks so cute!” Dorcas squealed. Her hands reached out, giddy as Sirius gently placed it into her arms but not without fretting. Marlene only looked down at her with a soft gaze, her face becoming pink as she wrapped an arm around her.

“Give it a rest. She’s not going to drop it.”

“Now you, McKinnon?! I’m a father now! Our kid deserves the best care! Right, L/N?”

It catches her off guard. Sirius trying to include her in a conversation? That’s a new milestone. “Of course; the proudest parents.”

━━━━━━━━━༻✩༺━━━━━━━━━

Once done with Kettleburn, Sirius went to bring Oats back to his dorm, parting as Y/N went to find Lily who took her notes for her afternoon classes.

Out in the courtyard, walking around in the snow, both Lily and Snape wandered around before she picked up a snowball, throwing it at him. Snape sent her a deadpanned look as Lily kept hurling snowballs. Most missed him, others hit him before he retaliated and threw some back.

Y/N halted, watching the scene play out and debated whether or not to approach them. But decided to, shouting while striding up to them.

“Petals!”

Lily’s smile grew before her head whipped to her. She stopped her snowball fight, getting up to bounce her way over to her. Snape followed in suit, but as Lily began to babble on and on about what she missed, Snape’s eyes bore into her, vice versa.

“I’ll see you later, Sevy! We need to go,” said Lily, already turning to walk away. Y/N lingered back a pause, just enough to see Snape draw his wand and shoot a spell at her. She had just enough time to block it. Whatever spell it was, it sparkled like a firecracker. If Snape could easily send a hex or jinx her way inboard daylight with Lily just a little ahead, what was he willing to do had they been alone.

His angel persona around her was dropping quickly.

“Whiskers!” Shouted Lily. Her arms raised in question. “Get over here!”

A flurry of thoughts bombarded her before she could process them. She was about to cause a scene, yell and scream until that nasty sneer fell off his face until she felt a tug on her arm. Lily hooked her arm around Y/N, pulling her away. But she still had her wand drawn, ready to block another spell. She tossed one last look at him; he smiled wickedly.

“Are you okay?”

She had enough tip-toeing around Snape. She remained tranquil, gave him the benefit of the doubt and respected their friendship but that was enough.

“No, I’m not actually,” keeping her tone as soft as possible, trying not to sound defensive, “Why do you waste your time around him?”

Lily paused, her eyes going wide. An offended expression crossed her face as she took a moment to digest the remark. “Sev? What are you getting at?” Her tone was guarded which had Y/N debating whether or not to drop the conversation entirely. A fight with Lily was not on her to-do list.

“I just think you should be careful around him.”

“I can look out for myself,” she grumbled, “Severus has been there for me for years. I know how to separate myself from the wrong sorts.”

“I’m only saying this to look out for —”

“I know, but he isn’t like what you’re thinking.” Lily didn’t look mad, just tired as she nodded sharply. Taking a stack of parchment from her bag, Lily handed it to her and walked faster. “You’re around Potter too much. He isn’t like what he says he is.”

Y/N felt annoyance blossom in her chest at the accusation of James but bit her tongue to avoid more conflict. Right now, they trod on dangerous waters.

Neither spoke to each other for the rest of the day.

93 notes · View notes

moonctzeny · 3 years

Text

Cygnus

pairing: royal!ten x fem!reader x villain!doyoung

genre: angst, smutty elements but not anything too much

word count: 4,8k

warnings: ‘forced’ marriage, mentions of death, blood, stabbing (not too descriptive I promise), manipulation

summary: “When your father, the king, gets brutally assasinated in his royal quarters, you realise how big of a threat the opposing Indigo kingdom really is. In order to further protect both your kingdoms, prince Ten proposes a unification by proposing to you. Amidst your duty as his queen and your inappropriate meetups with your royal advisor, Doyoung, you’re not sure where your heart really belongs”

a/n: This fic has a lot of referencing of the past. Just to clarify: if a part is written in the past tense and is inside the separators, it’s y/n recounting past events

requested by/written for my dear French Anon ❤️❤️ I hope you like it 🥰

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The starry night spreads like a veil over the kingdom. Your kingdom, ever since your head was adorned with a veil of your own. The moonlight, pale and bright, illuminates all the stories of the night. From the mothers that kiss their children goodnight, praying that the impending war doesn’t find them in their adolescence, to the whispering silhouettes of the King’s traitors, plotting with the opposing kingdom to overrule his reign.

Like the weeping willows of your royal garden, you sit alone in the dance hall’s balcony, gazing at the sky’s unknown that always felt so comfortable to you. How dull and drab you must look, even in the ornate gown you were in, amidst all the decorations and joyous music of your wedding’s one year anniversary. Maids, peasants, guards- they all congratulated you on your happy marriage, wishing the queen a long life of prosperity. Even Sirius, the prettiest diamond in the sky, seemed to shine like a spotlight for tonight’s celebration.

“y/n? It’s time for our royal dance.”

You recognized the silky voice to be that of the King’s, your longest companion other than the stars. In spite of all of your misery, Ten, the man you swore to hold in weakness and in health, till death do you part, was someone you valued deeply.

You first met the prince in your early teens, travelling to his neighboring kingdom with your father. He was still a young boy, bothered with the blemishes on his face and excited to play with the snow covering the windowsills of his room. The only person who could relate with the insecurities and troubles of an heir like yourself.

“Why are the peasants hungry while we throw away most of our food?”

"Why does the Indigo kingdom want to declare war on us when we both have enough wealth to live on?"

"Do you think that when we grow up, we will become just like our parents?"

The prince was thoughtful and gentle, a pacifist in the wrong position. Talented in the arts, in dance, in anything that is as beautiful as he is.

His beloved subjects do not know it, but the nickname Ten, was given to him by you.

It was probably the third time you met the prince, excited to spend time with your only friend just a day before your 15th birthday. He had been bugging you over what you wanted from him as a present, the beautiful jewelry and dresses his father gifted you seeming too impersonal to him. You shook off his offers, insisting that him being there with you, in your castle’s terrace, was more than enough.

You were gazing at your beloved stars and he was gazing at you, rambling on and on about the celestial objects in the sky.

“And what star is this?”, he asked curiously, eyes reflecting the constellations and sparkling in the night. Chittaphon, unlike the countless teachers insisting astronomy for a princess was useless, was endlessly entertained by your knowledge and always thirsty to learn more. His finger was pointing at Deneb, one of the brightest stars of the night sky.

“This star is part of a greater ten-star constellation, Cygnus”

“Cygnus?”

“It means swan in greek”, you explained and he squinted his eyes cutely, trying to find the resemblance to the bird.

“According to greek mythology, Phaethon, the son of Helios the sun god, demanded to ride his father’s sun chariot for a day. Unfortunately, he

was unable to control the reins, forcing Zeus to destroy the chariot with a thunderbolt, with Phaethon drowning in the river Eridanus where it fell. Phaethon's lover, Cygnus, dived into the river for days on end to collect Phaethon's bones, in order to give him a proper burial. The gods were so touched by Cygnus's devotion and deep grief, that they turned him into a swan and placed him among the stars.”

Chittaphon, intrigued by the story, stopped plucking out the roots of the grass you were sitting on, and decided to lay his head comfortably on your lap. His hair looked so pretty that you couldn’t help but run your fingers through its softness, the intimacy making your heart skip a beat.

“That is my greatest fear”

You were so lost in your contentment that you’d almost miss his whispered confession. Placing your hands on his cheeks carefully, you turn his face so that he looks at you, and it takes everything in you not to lean down and kiss his pout away.

“Hm?”

“What if, when I finally take the reins of my father’s kingdom, I end up ‘drowning’ as well? What if I’m too weak to control them and someone stronger than me decides to destroy me?”

With a sigh, you look back up to the sky. As an only child and therefore sole heiress, the worry of leading a kingdom was the main cause of your night scares as well. You were just teenagers, still figuring out yourselves, but Chittaphon wasn’t some ditzy child. He didn’t care about the lushes and gold, he wasn’t power hungry. His idealism and ethos were admirable, and you felt safe knowing that when the time comes, he would be your ally.

“You’ll make a great king one day”

He smiles up at you, his happiness lighting up the night sky. He always shone the brightest.

“You really mean that?”

“I do. And if you don’t, I promise to collect your bones and bury you properly”

He laughed heartily at your joke, and you continued to braid his locks, counting the freckles on his face until your heartbeats synced with the other.

You just laid there, thinking the prince had fallen asleep in your arms, when he spoke again.

“I don’t know how, but one day I’ll gift you those ten stars. And it will be the best birthday present you’ll ever receive”

That’s how you got through adolescence, holding on to Ten’s promise, and dreaming of whatever life might offer you. And life seemed to be gentle on you, up until a couple of years ago. Up until the incident.

Ten takes your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles tenderly with his thumb, and leads you to the dance hall. The skin is scabbed and rough from you compulsively scrubbing it every time you take a bath. You’d watch the water endlessly run through your fingers, yet no amount of soap could flush the memory of the deep red of your father’s blood staining them.

It was a Friday like any other, a walk in the royal gardens at 6 and then your waltz dance class at 7. You replayed the new choreography over and over in your head, drunk in your instructor’s praises and wanting to show off. Skipping the steps of the stairwell leading up to the king’s room, you wish you had taken a jacket with you. Goosebumps started appearing on your arms, both from the cool night breeze and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Your father was the reason you started waltz lessons. “One day you’re going to marry a man to queendom and you’ll better be able to keep up with me on our father-daughter dance”. You’d just giggle and tell him you had plenty of time till that day, you were just stepping on your twenties, no reason to step on a dancefloor too! But alas, one dance recital from Ten and your father was sold on the idea of getting you to take some lessons. You chuckled to yourself. Come to think of it, your father just really loved Ten.

You reach the heavy door of his suite, opened by just a slice. While there was light coming from the room, illuminating the hallway you were standing at, there was no one guarding it. You found it a little strange that the guard’s huge frame didn’t block your way from your father like he like always did, yet you were happy. Your father always acted colder to you around him.

“Dad, dad, look what I learned toda-“

The sight of his cold, lifeless body brought you to your knees. The cause of death was obvious, with the dagger shoved deep inside his guts, but if you asked anyone in the kingdom, they’d tell you he died from a bad heart. He loved heavy food, and alcohol, the meals suited to a king. No one other than a select few could know that the king was assassinated in his own bedroom.

But that was not your only secret.

You don’t know how, but Ten has managed to finally drag you in the middle of the dance hall. Your shoes clack against the marbled floors and the music brings you momentarily back to the now that you want to escape so badly. The music sounds familiar, you think, and you stay still for a second, trying to identify the song.

Your king brings you closer, one hand steady on your waist, the other keeping your fingers intertwined. He hums to the tune and looks at you with those eyes, those dark eyes that always hold a certain sadness in them. And when he starts to lead, it finally hits you that this is the song you got engaged to.

It was Ten’s idea, actually. With the rumours of a murder travelling to the neighboring kingdoms, including the Indigo kingdom making statements of invasive strategies against you, a form of alliance was clearly needed to be made.

He showed up to the royal conference room, all dressed up and holding a bouquet of red roses. You could hear his heart thumping as he approached you, his hands sweaty and clammy when he held yours.

“My queen, there is no denying our kingdoms are in a crisis”. His familiar voice was comforting to you, yet the words seemed too formal to be leaving Ten’s mouth. “The Indigo kingdom has indirectly declared war on you. They are powerful, especially with the weapons they possess. And their men are notorious to be ruthless and as cold as ice.”

You gulped visibly, your mouth getting dry at the thought of your people getting as violently killed as your father. Looking at any place possible other than his eyes, you wondered why he took the time to pay you a visit, just to point out the things that you were already more than worried about.

“My kingdom has great soldiers, skilled and apt in martial arts, yet they miss one thing, one thing that your peaceful kingdom can offer mine. Your servants love you, my queen, and they are willing to do anything for you”. He stops and takes a breath, handing you the bouquet he had been holding in his other hand. “I know I would”

The sweet scent that hits your nose matches his sentiment, yet the glossiness in his eyes -that you finally picked up the courage to face- told you things would get bitter soon.

“Are you suggesting we form an alliance for the war? Our kingdoms might be on good terms now, yet our predecessors used to be enemies for hundreds of years. There is still a lot of mistrust weaved in the hearts of the people.”

“I know”, he said, his voice breaking lightly. A thorn from the bouquet pricked your skin as you saw him fall down on one knee, a drop of blood falling from your finger as a teardrop stained your face. “That’s why I am asking for your hand in marriage. Let our kingdoms become one”

You were the one who said ‘I do’, yet the decision was already taken for you. Your whole life, in fact, was painted right in front of your eyes, hues of marsala reds and hunter greens. Hues like the ones Ten put on his palette almost every night before you go to sleep.

You and Ten had never slept together. He insisted that it was never his intention when marrying you, and he’d completely respect your boundaries. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t had a thought of laying with him, as you helped him remove the drying paint off his fingers every night. You couldn’t ignore the twitch of your sensitivity as he saw you changing into your silk robe and nightgown, nor the heat of your face when he called you beautiful. His pretty voice was made for begging and teasing and singing out moans. With his flexibility and core strength, you could only imagine what he’d be like in the bedroom. Just the image of his feline eyes looking up at you from between your thighs sent chills down your spine.

That being said, you always felt a bit annoyed by his chivalry as he slipped through to the guest room to spend the night. Through his proposal, he had ridden you of the chance to choose your other half, doomed you to endless nights of loneliness and a cold half of the bed. He should’ve at least taken responsibility.

Not even the guards could know that the two of you didn’t share a bed, the alliance holding on the thin thread of facade you played out for everyone. Sweet kisses in the breakfast room, fake smiles and the silent mourning of your freedom. But that wasn’t your only secret.

You see a hand tapping lightly the velvet shoulderpads of the King’s suit, causing you to halt your dancing. A man, about half a head taller than Ten, successfully steals his attention from you.

“My king, may I steal the lovely queen for a dance?”

Kim Doyoung.

Tall, nice-mannered, lethally handsome. Your father’s trustiest advisor ever since he turned 18 and one of the most respected men in the castle. If the king is the jungle’s lion, then Doyoung surely is a jaguar, attacking his enemies unexpectedly, emerging from their blind spot. He is also your secret.

Kim was the one who found you crying over your fathers body, notifying the knights of the murder since you had no voice to scream for help. He offered you a shoulder to lean on during your grief, while helping you manage the kingdom in your inexperience. It was inevitable to come closer to the man you spent countless hours with at the royal meetings, who you wined and dined with daily, who led you through your duties and made everything make a little bit more sense.

The attraction you felt for him however, well, that was on you.

It started one night, warm like this one, when the diplomatic settlements with a new kingdom took way too long to figure out, and the pair of you were stuck in his personal office at the early hours of the morning.

Your hair was a frizzy mess, eyebags darkening the thin skin of your under eyes and all you could focus on was the ink slowly spilling from the metal tip of your pen. And Doyoung, though hardworking and diligent as always, showed the signs of exhaustion as well, stretching his neck from side to side to release the tension.

A crack from his joints grabbed your attention, or rather his skin that was glowing in the limelight.

He was wearing a beautiful silk shirt, the fabric matching his rich stature and highlighting the delicate lines of his body. His collarbones, sharp like him, peeked from the buttons he had been unfastening, one by one, all the while keeping his eyes on yours.

Your mind wandered under his stare that did nothing short of stealing all oxygen from your lungs. Every slither of your bare skin that landed on it was starting to burn up, and you assumed that’s what his touch must feel like as well. You imagined unbuttoning the rest of his shirt yourself, giving his shoulders a little massage to help him relax. You’d run your hands down this torso, marking it lightly with your fingernails, until you felt that little line of hair right over his pelvis.

The thought is too sinful, so you return to the document in front of you, yet all of your concentration dissolves when the advisor suddenly places the back of his hand against your forehead. His touch is cool and refreshing against your hot skin, yet the proximity only raised the temperature of your body more.

“My queen, you look exhausted. Have you been sleeping properly since the… incident?”

You wince at the memory and shove it down your subconscious again, shaking your head as if the dark thoughts would just brush off of you.

“Not really. I keep tossing and turning. I lay on my bed and I just feel so- so lonely.”

Immediately realising how suggestive your words sound you put your hand over your lips, but Doyoung removes them, taking your raised hand in his and kissing the top.

“My duty as your advisor is to rid you of your worries, my queen. Apparently, I’m not doing a good job, so tell me”. You let your eyes fall on his plush lips, holding your breath as his sweet talk leaves them. He mouths the next words against your wrist, and you can feel every movement of his mouth against your sensitive skin. “What can I do to relieve your stress?”

You can’t stop staring at the smoothness of the junction of his neck so you leave a light layer of your lipstick on it, the pink hue against his pale skin reeling you back to reality.

“Advisor, this is not right”, you try to excuse, “I cannot allow myself to take advantage of your duties like that”

Your eyes stay glued on his neck, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in a chuckle. He guides your hand, that is still in his grasp, and boldy places it over his thigh, your pinky finger grazing against a hardness that is most definitely his-

“Can’t you see what you do to me? What does a man have to do to be yours for the night?”

And that’s how he ended up tangled in your sheets every night, sneaking in your room silently so that the guards don’t notice him.

“It’s been one year, huh?”

You smell the citrusy after notes of wine in his breath, his lips slightly stained by the liquid. He looks just as addictive as the alcohol he consumed tonight, covered in the silk fabric that he loves so much.

“Have you been drinking again?”

“What else am I supposed to do when I see my queen dancing with that bastard?”

“That bastard is your king, yet you talk so lowly of him”

“And that king is your husband, but you were moaning my name on your wedding night”

You had changed into a white nightgown, the ivory dress discarded on your bathroom’s floor. The beads that were delicately weaved into the wedding gown sure were heavy, but that was not the reason you felt so suffocated in it. You had to sit there for hours, resenting everyone who made a toast for the husband and wife. The celebrations seemed endless, the wine abundant, their laughs maniacal. Your wedding ceremony was the image of luxury and opulence, yet you felt so poor.

Your feet led you to his room on their own, swollen and cut from all the dancing in heels. When Doyoung saw you, angry and choked up with all the injustice you felt, he offered to do what he was the best at. Distract you with his touches, his wet kisses, his sweet nothings.

A pang of guilt ran through you the moment your back hit the wall, his body trapping you between the cold surface and the overwhelming heat of his body. You wondered if Ten was still sleeping in your newlyweds’ suite, if he was pretending that he dozed off, what he was thinking. You knew you were selfish for only thinking about your feelings, as if you were the only one forced into this marriage. But then Doyoung’s fingers danced on the hem of your dress, and your mind would go blank with lust.

“This is wrong”, you said out loud, a statement directed mostly at yourself rather than Doyoung.

“You coming here?”

“This. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to come this close to you”

“Divorce him”

You blinked back at him a couple times, trying to register what came so nonchalantly out of his mouth.

“Out of all people, advisor, you know exactly why I can’t”

His hand slid upwards, following the heat of your core, yet his fingers never touched where you needed him most. Small indentations were formed on the softness of your thighs, caused by his rings, and you wished the marks would stay forever. The shirt he wore as his sleepwear was oversized on his small frame, the iris tattooed on his shoulder peeking out from the fabric, as if it flowered on his skin.

“Out of all people, my queen, you know I can give you so much more than him”

As if knowing you’d argue with him, he started to nibble the skin on the middle of your neck, forcing your voice to bubble out muffled and weary.

“But advisor-“

“Say my name”

He let the pad of his finger fick your clit, and you moan “Doyoung” out, the name addictive on the tip of your tongue. So you say it again.

“Doyoung, I need you”

You felt his grin clearly against your skin, you wetness dripping on his fingers and covering his rings. His next words came out with a gravelly sound:

“I might hurt you, my queen”

Your whole life was laid out in front of you, from the wedding ring that weighted down your finger, to you laying on your royal deathbed, looking back at a lifetime that was never really yours. A linear progression to unhappiness, but you hated straight lines.

“I want it to hurt”

Doyoung brings your body closer to yours, perhaps way closer than the etiquette allows, his hand on your lower waist sliding as near to your ass so as not to raise suspicion. He dips his head forward in a way that makes you think he’d leave a tipsy and careless kiss on your lips, but he whispers in your ear instead.

“Why haven’t you left him already?” The question is bold, especially between all these people, especially in the celebration of the wedding he asks you to break off. “I thought you said you’re mine”

“I am, but-“, your head moves towards the king’s direction, whose eyes are boring holes through the pair of you. You feel so small under his stare, suddenly feeling dirty.

“He doesn’t even love you”

There is a weird feeling bubbling in your stomach when you finally make eye contact with Ten, all his forms in which you’ve seen him through the years running in your mind. The innocent boy who became your best friend, the uncertain teenager who became your first love. The empathetic king, the mourning friend. The dependable spouse.

“But you do”, Doyoung concludes incredulously, his right eyebrow raised. It’s as if he tied together the pieces of a big jigsaw puzzle, the disappointment and anger and determination all trying to fit in his handsome features.

A hand draws your body away from Doyoung quite aggressively, and you quickly realise it’s Ten who has caught up with you. He intertwines your fingers together, pulling you into your previous dancing position but something is different this time.

“Times up. My wife’s too precious of a gem to let go of for longer”

Doyoung scoffs lightly, but hides it with a small bow to his king, leaving the two of you alone like he was asked. The tension between you and Ten is so thick it felt like all the lies you’ve told your kingdoms liquified into a thick substance that’s suffocating you now. His fingers are digging in your hips, in a possessive manner that’s a first for him, and he takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Do you ever think of me when you’re having sex with him?”

The question catches you so off guard that you ungraciously step on his feet, wobbling on your heels until he helps you find your balance.

“Why would you ask that?”

Now, you weren’t trying to play clueless, you know Ten is smart. You see the way he studies you and Doyoung, how he catches your secret glances, the electric touches. He surely has figured out where you sneak off every night and whose cologne you reek off the next morning. What you don’t understand, is where all his dislike for your advisor stems from.

Ten just chuckles bitterly, letting a puff through his nose, with a face of almost disgust when he looks at you.

“I don’t understand why I feel this way. I don’t understand why I care about you when you’re plotting with him against me. Why I feel jealous every time I see his filthy hands on you, or why I still think you deserve better.”

Plotting against him?

You’re left with a mouth gaped open, his harsh words both hurting you and confusing you as his voice gets even more strict than before.

“I thought maybe if I asked you to marry me you’d slowly distance yourself from him. I thought that maybe, just maybe, you reciprocate a handful of all the things I feel for you. But you still stay by his side, hanging from his every word”, he says it all in one breath and his eyes are watery when he addresses you again. “How can you sleep soundly next to me when you’re fucking the man that killed your father?”

A buzzing sound rings in your ears and you realise that you’re one breath away from falling apart.

And just like that, everything makes sense.

Why Doyoung was the first to find your father’s body, why the assasination seemed like an inside job. His sudden romantic interest in you and his pleas to have him as your king instead.

The indigo flower that decorated his body.

Ten shakes you a little, worried now at your sudden stiffness and the loss of blood from your face. He didn’t expect this reaction from you, didn’t expect to see your body shake with anger like this. You seem even more shocked than he was when he found out about Doyoung’s true nature, but, aren’t you the advisor’s accomplice in the plot of his overruling?

“Wait, all this time- you didn’t know?”

Ten’s eyes widen as his body jerks forward, and you barely manage to catch him in your arms. A woman’s shriek resonates in the dance hall; the musicians halt their playing with a scratchy sound of the strings that stretch out of tune. And then you see the blood, staining the marble floor under Ten in small drops. You also see Doyoung emerging from behind him, with a maniacal look on his face, and a dagger in his hands.

All hell breaks loose. The unarmed guests scream in fear, urging outside the dance hall in flocks. Glasses of wine shatter on the floor, women leave their heels behind in their hastiness to save themselves. You see the knights running in your direction, creating a shield of protection for you and the king, yet you notice that not all of them have gathered around you. A good part of them stand next to Doyoung, his face distorted in a mischievous grin. The extent of the betrayal in your kingdom shocks you, but when the first knight launches forward with his sword, you know you need to get Ten out of there immediately.

Throwing Ten’s arm over your shoulder, you drag him with difficulty all the way to the balcony, desperately trying to mute out the shrill sound of swords clashing in the process. You manage to bring him to safety, laying him down carefully in the same spot he found you in before, his head on your lap. After unbuttoning his shirt, you inspect the stab under his ribcage, and you swallow a scream at the sight of the deep wound. The most you can do is rip a big piece of cloth from your skirt, tying it up tightly around his waist, and wait until the fight is over.

You see clear drops falling on his face that is turning sickly pale and you realise you’re crying. Holding his face between your hands, you get reminded of those days you went starseeing, of those moments of absolute peace with him that you wished would last forever. His body is cold and the cloth is turning burgundy, but he has the most tranquil smile on his face as he looks up at you.

“Stay with me, please”, you sob over his rigid body, hugging it tightly as if his existence will just slip right through your fingers. “Live with me, and I’ll gift you all the stars in the sky”

#neowritingsnet #nct angst #ten angst #doyoung angst #nct scenarios #ten fic #doyoung fic #ten smut #doyoung smut #ten scenarios #doyoung scenario #ten imagine #doyoung imagine #wayv angst #chittaphon #wayv #nct

241 notes · View notes

simplee-dreaming · 3 years

Text

Get Out of the Kitchen

This is a Harry Potter fic based on an idea I had whilst daydreaming. I thought it was kinda cute.

Summary: You’ve been quite cheeky recently and Fred, George, Remus and Sirius have had enough.

Word count: 1395

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“But Mrs Weasleyyyyyy” you whined for the hundredth time.

“No, Y/N. You have done more than enough. Go and relax with the others.” Molly ordered.

“But I wanna help you!” You whined again. Molly rolled her eyes and laughed.

“Y/N, you’ve already helped set the table, cut the vegetables, sorted the meat and entertained me with a musicals medley. I can handle the rest, now go and relax.”

“Butttttttttt”

“What is Y/N whining about now?” Remus had just entered the kitchen.

“They won’t do as they’re told.” Molly told Remus.

“I wanted to help Mrs Weasley with dinner but she’s kicking me out of the kitchen!”

“I told them they’ve done enough so they can go and relax before dinner is served,” Molly informed Remus. He chuckled.

“Alright you, leave Molly to it, come on,” Remus said, tilting his head at you. You pouted at him.

“No.”

“Y/N, get out of the kitchen,” Remus said again.

“Yeah get out of the kitchen, Y/N!” Chanted Fred and George as they walked through the kitchen into the living room.

“But Mrs Weasleyyyyy” you whined again.

“Y/N, if you don’t get out of the kitchen now then I will have to invite a friend to force you out…” Remus warned.

“A friend?” You asked, confused.

“Some say he’s a bit of a…monster….” Remus said. Molly caught on instantly and smiled, she loved when any of the adults played these games with the teenagers. You were still none the wiser.

“Huh?” You questioned. Remus slowly brought up his hands and wiggled his fingers at you. A sudden look of realisation grew on your face as you backed away.

“Remus n-no...” You stuttered.

“Get out of the kitchen, or else…” Remus warned. However, being the stubborn teenager you were, you stood your ground.

“No.”

“Very well.” Remus said before lunging at you. He managed a few side squeezes before you shrieked and ran backwards.

“Okay! Okay! I’m going!” You said. Remus winked at Molly as you left the kitchen.

“I think they need a good laugh,” he said. Molly nodded in agreement.

You entered the living room to find the twins telling Sirius about their new range of joke sweets. Sirius looked up and acknowledged you.

“Uh-oh, here comes trouble.” He said. You smirked at him and flopped on the sofa next to them.

“Mum finally got rid of you then?” Fred teased.

“No. Remus did.” You huffed.

“Indeed.” Remus said from the doorway. You spun your head around and glared at him. He raised his eyebrows at you and you stuck your tongue out at him before turning back to the twins.

“Oi, cheeky.“ Remus addressed you. You ignored him.

“So what’s your new line of joke sweets then?” You asked the twins.

“Excuse me, I’m talking to you.” Remus said. You ignored him again.

“Oh please tell me you’ve restocked the canary creams!” You continued to the twins.

“Y/N.” Sirius chimed in. You looked up at him.

“What?” you sassed. SIrius and Remus looked at each other and sighed simultaneously.

“You have been a right little rascal these past few days.” Sirius remarked. You grasped your chest with your hand and opened your mouth in fake shock.

“Have I?!” You mocked.

“You know you have.” SIrius continued.

“Care to elaborate?” You asked. Sirius drew in a deep breath.

“Mocking Remus’ teaching skills, claiming you could make better products than Fred and George, declaring that everyone is beneath you...even taking to squeezing my sides whenever I leave the bathroom.” Sirius informed.

“Only because you take forever in there, it’s like you’ve spent so long being Padfoot you forgot how to pee like a human.” You informed sassily. Fred and George let out a loud laugh.

“You two can quit laughing too, your new products are rubbish. Even taken to muggle magic tricks. How boring.” You teased.

“Excuse me?” The twins said in unison.

“You’re excused.” You sassed back, the corner of your lip curling upwards.

“Oh you’re really pushing the boundaries now, aren’t you?” Remus spoke up. You said nothing.

“Ah so you’re still ignoring me?” He asked.

Silence.

You didn’t hear him walk slowly towards you until you felt a hand gently run down your side. You twitched but made no noise.

“Talk to me, Y/N.”

You said nothing. He squeezed your side and you bit your lip.

“I think you owe everyone an apology,” Remus said again, squeezing your side a bit quicker. You shut your eyes and twitched again, determined not to give him the satisfaction. Your mouth was clamped shut.

“Oh, I think someone is a bit ticklish…” Sirius teased, watching your face screw up as Remus started squeezing both sides. You arched your back slightly to try and get away without making too much of a fuss. Remus squeezed more rapidly, up and down both sides. You couldn’t hold on much longer and your hands involuntarily latched onto his, prising his hands away from your ticklish sides.

“Remus is right, we all deserve an apology.” Fred said before grabbing your legs and pulling them closer towards him. This left you now lying on the sofa, Remus by your head, Fred by your feet and George and SIrius stood next to you.

“No wait guys, please…” You begged.

“Apologise,” all four said together.

You stayed silent. As much as the panic was rising from within you, you were lowkey excited for what was about to happen. All four men looked at each other and nodded. Remus pulled your arms above your head and pinned them with his knees, Sirius straddled your waist, George leant on your legs and Fred had locked your feet in between his legs. You couldn’t move.

“Ready boys?” SIrius called out.

“No, wait!” You cried.

“3…”

“No!”

“2…”

“Please don’t!”

“1…”

“NO! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” You cried out. Remus has dug all his fingers into your underarms, scratching round rapidly. SIrius latched his fingers around your ribs, drilling into the spaces in between each bone. George was spidering his fingers up and down the back of your thighs. And Fred was clawing at your soles. This was torture, the worst you had ever experienced….yet you were kinda loving it.

“Has anyone found the apology button yet?” Sirius asked, now running his fingers up and down your sides. There was a chorus of no’s as everyone continued to torture you.

“GUHUHUHUHUYS WAHAHAHAIT” you cried out.

“We are waiting...for your apology.” Fred said as he ran his fingers under your toes.

“I’M…..I’M…..NOHOHOHOHO” you screamed, unable to finish your sentence. Remus had all ten fingers spidering deep into your armpits and he was looking down on you with fake sympathy.

“We just want an apology, Y/N.” Remus said, smiling at you. You looked up at him but couldn’t see his face, your eyes were filled with tears. George started squeezing the tops of your thighs and you let out an inhumane scream. Remus began alternating between your neck and your armpits, Sirius was now clawing at your tummy and Fred was still rapidly tickling both of your soles simultaneously. You couldn’t take any more. You drew in as much oxygen as you could before screaming out:

“I’M SORRY!”

Everyone slowed down to lightly tickle you, you kept giggling.

“What was that?” Remus asked, fluttering his fingers in your neck. You tried to scrunch up your shoulders as you giggled out.

“I’m….I’m sohohohory”

All four men stopped and got off you.

“Well that certainly taught them a lesson.” Molly said, standing in the doorway. No one has noticed her walk in. You were still giggling on the sofa so Remus lifted you up and sat down with you in his lap. Fred, George and Sirius surrounded you and they all gave you a big hug.

“Come on you monsters, dinner’s ready.” Molly said before walking back to the kitchen.

“Alright giggles, up you get.” Sirius said, giving you a hand up. He wrapped you in a standing hug as you let out the rest of your giggles and relaxed into him.

“Oh and Y/N, don’t mock our products again....we know your weak spots…” Fred and George teased as they left the room. Remus and Sirius both put an arm around you as you walked to the dining room to eat.

#tickle fic #harry potter tickle fic #ler!Remus #Ler!Sirius #Ler!Fred #Ler!George #Lee!Reader

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carewyncromwell · 2 years

Text

[Ficlet] Sing Us the Song, You’re the Piano Man

Hey y’all, here comes another little drabble featuring Ed Rosier, as well as Sirius Black and Chess Thornton @cursebreakerfarrier. This one is set in the summer of 1995, right around the time Harry arrives at Grimmauld Place. For some context, Ed’s just joined the Order, but Sirius -- Chess’s once-again boyfriend -- is still sus as hell toward Ed, considering his schoolboy history. But maybe this might start to change...? We’ll just have to wait and see...

x~x~x~x

Sirius didn’t like being stuck in Grimmauld Place. It was unpleasant enough having to be trapped in the house he’d dreaded returning to every summer, surrounded by the old unpleasantly sneering portraits and grotesque house elf heads mounted on the wall -- but knowing that everyone else was out there risking their lives, getting into trouble, and more important being of use made it that bit more frustrating.

Still, it was a little nicer having the old house being full of people than it being completely empty. When the Weasleys brought their whole family to stay there, at least more pleasant noises like laughter and exploding Dungbombs could be heard. And when other members of the Order were over, Molly would make even bigger, more delicious meals. When Remus was over, she’d usually bake a dessert with chocolate in it. When Chess was over most recently, she’d tried out a new recipe for avocado toast. And whenever Ed Rosier popped up, Molly went out of her way to prepare her very best cheesecake for him.

Ah yes -- Ed “Zorro” Rosier. Sirius had known Ed was into music -- it was something Chess used to talk about when she defended him, that he was a lover and a poet, not a fighter. Sirius had frankly seen it as more proof that the idiot was more interested in play-acting in his own comfy little world than actually seeing things as they were, and from what little he’d heard of Ed’s group’s songs on the Wizarding Wireless Network (thanks, Ginny and Molly Weasley), the fluffy pop sound confirmed that judgment in his head. And yet despite this, everyone else had taken quite well to Ed, once he got it in his head to tune the piano in Sirius’s mother’s old study and play it to entertain the others whenever he had the chance to stop by.

“I remember one of my old collaborators saying that every mundane task is easier to do, with a good song in your ears,” Ed had said to Ginny with a bright grin one day. “If you all have to be stuck in here undoxying the curtains and dusting the chandeliers, at least a song might help all that go a bit faster, eh?”

And so now whenever Ed was over, he’d play the piano in the study while everyone else was working. Sirius used to be sour that he wouldn’t just get off his arse and help, but Molly used to insist he was working -- and admittedly Ed always did look like he’d worked up a sweat, playing through every single request hollered cheerfully up at him from Tonks, Fred, George, and the others. But really, after playing and singing songs like Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer” and the Weird Sisters’ “Do the Hippogriff” solely on a piano forte for two hours straight with no breaks, wouldn’t anyone be a little tired?

Despite Sirius’s irritation, though, Ed’s music had a noticeable effect on everyone else. Molly very regularly asked him to play one of Celestina Warbeck’s songs, while Fred and George always bugged him to play stuff by the Weird Sisters. Hermione and Ginny would sometimes spend their breaks from cleaning standing beside the piano and asking Ed questions while he played some of Hermione’s favorites, like Madonna’s “Express Yourself.” When Remus arrived in the middle of a cleaning session one day while Ed was playing, he actually made a point to stop upstairs so he could watch Ed play his attempt at Fleetwood Mac’s “Everywhere.” Even when Harry finally arrived, he -- after some encouragement from Ron and Hermione -- called up to Ed asking if he could play something by Elton John, to which Ed laughed and shouted back his compliments before settling on “The Circle of Life.” And of course when Chess was over, she would spend a lot of her time with her best friend at the piano, talking and laughing with him as Ed played more and more ambitious pieces to show off in front of her and make her smile.

It irked Sirius just a little. Or maybe more than a little. Particularly since, really, even he had to admit, Ed was pretty damn good.

The day of Harry’s trial, Ed ended up swinging by very early in the morning. He’d apparently thought everyone might need something to start their day off right, so he’d decided to pop in early that morning, before almost everyone was awake. He sneaked upstairs to the parlor as quietly as he could, lingering only briefly outside the door of Regulus’s room before deciding it probably wouldn’t be respectful to go anywhere he wasn’t explicitly given permission to go, and then settled himself at the piano and started to play. This time, however, the tune was unfamiliar to everyone who heard it -- it played several times over, in slightly different keys and at different rhythms.

Sirius hadn’t felt Chess get up. It was only when he slowly inched awake that he realized she wasn’t in bed with him, as she’d ended up the previous night. Frowning slightly, he brushed his hair out of his face and, pulling on a shirt and pants, opened the door out into the hall. He caught the sound of Ed’s singing voice several doors down, and he sidled down the hall toward it, rubbing his temple and eyes with one hand irritably.

“...The world esteems perfection, dreams

Of dolls made of glass, brimming with class;

And society derides all those besides:

The oddballs and freaks and all the outcasts...

And yet here we are, my most precious star,

Two buds on a tree, strange as can be,

Hiding our flaws behind a set of claws...

For as beasts, we know we can never be free.”

Sirius didn’t recognize the song. It had a rather pop-like rhythm, but with nothing but the piano underneath, it made the lyrics take center stage more, making the tune more of a ballad, an ode. A love song.

“Our blood makes a chain I can hardly explain,

Locking us down past all light and sound;

Silence is strong, but it doesn’t last long...

It’s far, far too late when we find that we’ve drowned.”

The rhythm seemed almost too light for the words being sung, to Sirius’s ears. It felt like such a sentiment should be melancholy, bitter, resentful -- and yet the words in Ed’s voice were thoughtful and oddly resilient. Wise, almost.

“So hold me, oh hold me,

Hold me still tighter;

If I get killed, at least I’m fulfilled.

Hold me, oh hold me,

Closer, still closer;

If I’m Hell bound, at least I’m found.

Hold me...please hold me...

“And that’s all I’ve got so far,” Ed said. “I figured I could hash out the coda, once I let the others hear the first part and I’ve made any alterations.”

His piano playing continued for several more stanzas, even though his singing had stopped.

Sirius’s eyebrows knit together. So this song was one of his, then. No wonder he hadn’t recognized it.

I suppose I’ll hear it on the WWN next, underneath a whole layer of sighing vocals and fluffy synthesizers, thought Sirius dryly.

He had been ready to round the corner and say that, but what Chess said next made that thought disappear entirely.

“...It’s about Regulus, isn’t it?”

Sirius halted mid-step, just outside the door frame. Chess and Ed both had their backs to him, with Chess standing over Ed sitting in front of the piano. Her voice was soft, but she was smiling all the same.

And as Sirius watched, little by little, Ed’s face slowly broke out into a tender, fond smile too.

“...All of them are,” he said softly.

His smile became a bit more of a fond grin as he closed his eyes and bowed his head almost bashfully.

“Well, all the love songs, anyway...I did write a few about leaving home, as well...”

Chess gave his shoulder a supportive squeeze. “It’s really beautiful, Eddie...I know Reg would love it.”

Ed’s steel blue eyes glinted with a strange emotion as he reached up to squeeze Chess’s hand in return, leaning his head against her shoulder.

“...Thanks, Kit.”

Recovering himself at last, Sirius backed up out of the room before either of them could turn around and see him. He stood in the hall, his gray eyes drifting away as his thoughts raced.

He’d heard the rumors at school, that Ed Rosier and his brother had something going on behind closed doors, of course he had. He’d known it was ridiculous, at least from the perspective of them having a sexual affair -- Regulus was “the good boy,” and Ed was cut from the same cloth, so they’d both have been too interested in doing whatever Mummy and Daddy said, rather than actually think for themselves about anything. But even so, Sirius remembered how inseparable Regulus and Ed had been -- it was part of the reason he was so distrustful of Ed in the first place. Regulus had been all gung-ho about blood purity until he’d gotten cold feet and died trying to leave the Death Eaters...if Ed was like Regulus, then how could Sirius be sure Ed wouldn’t chicken out of the Order when things got scary? How could he be sure Ed wouldn’t be like Peter and abandon the people who were relying on him to try to save his own skin?

And yet...hearing Ed talk about Regulus, like this -- so fondly, so...gently -- and after so many years...it shook Sirius.

Sirius returned to bed. Later that morning, Sirius approached Chess about it at breakfast.

“Did Rosier mean that?”

Chess frowned. “Mean what?”

“What he said to you this morning. About Regulus.”

Chess seemed to silently decide to skip asking how much he’d heard or why he’d been eavesdropping. Her face was very serious.

“Every word,” she said solemnly. “Your brother meant the world to Ed, Sirius.”

This sentiment stuck with Sirius for the next several weeks. Ed wasn’t in as often, those last two weeks of summer, presumably because of schedule band gigs, so Molly had taken to keeping the radio on, to try to fill the house with music in Ed’s stead. But whenever one of Spellb🔮und’s songs came on now, Sirius didn’t scoff and roll his eyes: instead he listened more carefully to the words, buried underneath all that fluff and bubblegum editing...and sure enough...

“With you on my mind, you’ve become my key,

Opening each door, making it so easy…

With you in my heart, I’ve never been more free,

Chasing those dreams you once had for me!

I’m wild, alive, born again as a flame!

You can see sparks in my eyes…

From now on, this world will know my name…

Like a Phoenix, I shall rise.”

___

“Wish I may, wish I might,

For today, for tonight,

That though you’re far from my sight,

You’ll still somehow lead me right.”

___

“The way you hold your quill oh so correctly;

The way you bow to the masses so perfectly;

The way you always, completely respect me;

The way your eyes shine and somehow reflect me;

The way I will always, without fail, protect you;

These are the reasons I’ll never forget you.”

They were about Regulus. All of Spellb🔮und’s love songs that WWN played on repeat...they were all about his brother.

One day just before the Hogwarts school year was set to start, Chess came in for a visit. Tonks directed her to the drawing room, and Chess had entered prepared to greet Sirius with a hug and a smile -- only to find him instead slouched on the couch, his head resting on his arms, as he listened to the bright red radio set up on the side table. His gray eyes were very stormy as he stared intently at it, listening carefully.

Chess approached carefully, her eyebrows knit together in concern -- when she got close enough to hear what was playing, though, understanding dawned on her.

“Help me prove I’m more than I seem –

Though no one else can see your gleam…”

It was the first song Chess had heard by Spellb🔮und -- the one she’d instantly recognized as something Ed wrote. Her blue eyes softened sadly as she lowered herself onto the couch next to Sirius, bringing a hand down onto his shoulder. Sirius looked at her, his gray eyes rippling with something oddly melancholy.

“...It...doesn’t sound like Reg,” he said lowly. “And yet...it does.”

Chess tilted her head. Sirius exhaled through his nose, his head lowering so that his arms obscured his mouth and nose.

“The words about how he stands, and wrinkles his nose, and holds his quill ‘oh so correctly’ -- that sounds just like him. It’s so him, it’s almost stupid. But other parts...it’s almost too soft, too emotional, too...”

“Affectionate?” proposed Chess.

Sirius straightened his back, raising a hand in a rather “exactly!”-like hand-gesture.

“Like words out of one of those romance novels Lily used to read...where the romantic heroine sees this ‘handsome prince’ under this modest exterior...”

Something flickered in Sirius’s eyes as they drifted back down to his folded arms.

“...I’ve...never heard anyone talk about Regulus like that before,” he admitted. “Sure, Mum and Dad used to gush about their precious baby boy, the son that would ‘uphold the Black family legacy’ and all that, but...they never said anything about how he ‘bowed to the masses’ or ‘hid his flaws,’ or ever acted like he was anything other than happy with how things were...”

Sirius’s eyes grew a bit smaller.

“...It’s...strange.”

Chess gently rubbed the back of Sirius’s shoulder with her hand in something of a reassuring massage.

“Love often can be, so I’ve heard,” she said gently.

#my writing #golden era #marauders era #sirius black #ed rosier #regulus black #chess thornton #molly weasley #fanfiction

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futurewriter2000 · 4 years

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Class

A/N: I don’t know what this is. I honestly do not know what this is. I feel like I’m getting worse with my writing.

REQUEST: Hello there! Can I request a young Sirius Black x reader oneshot? I don't have a specific plot in mind, but I want it with lots of fluff 😂 thank you for your time ♥️

“Look at me.” he mumbled quietly, narrowing his eyes at the girl, who was sitting in the far left row. His arms were on the desk, his chin on top as one of his curls fell right in the middle of his forehead. He blew it out of the way but it continued to fall exactly at the same spot. He quickly gave up on the small distraction and focused back on the girl in front. “Look. At. Me.” he spoke slowly and quietly, ignoring James’ stifled laugh beside him.

James kept smiling, trying to write down the notes Professor Flitwick wrote on the blackboard but his ears kept being so focused on the googly Sirius that he could barely stay silent. He just had to. James, who he was, just had to.

He looked up at you, whose sole mission was copying Flitwick's notes, not even noticing him or the boy next to him. “Pssst!” he whispered to you. “Psst. (y/l/n)!” he tried to whisper louder

“What are you doing?” Sirius whispered to James, who only sent him a wink in return.

You looked up from your notes and across the class, searching for the source of the sound. As you could see two boys looking your way, you furrowed your eyebrows and whispered back. “What?”

“Sirius wants you to look at him.” he smiled and tilted his head to the side where Sirius sat.

He was grinning at you as your cheeks burnt fire. You sent him a shy smile, letting your eyes linger on his blazing grey eyes. Sirius smiled wider, showing his pearly white teeth as he mouthed: “Pretend everything’s normal.”

“What?!”

Sirius looked around and saw the professor sitting behind his desk, grading papers. He turned to James and James grinned. “Watch my six.” said Sirius as James only winked in return.

Sirius slowly slid under his desk and waited. James tapped lightly on the desk and Sirius jumped behind another desk.

You watched completely shook. No, he is not.

Oh, but he is.

James tapped one more time and Sirius rolled behind another desk. Flitwick raised his head, James tapped twice, Sirius hid behind under the desk, rock-solid. Flitwick shook his head and buried it back into his papers.

You were baffled. How could Flitwick not see this? James tapped, Sirius jumped behind the desk in your row but two desks behind. He slid under the first one and quickly after another until he was behind you and your friend. He put his arms on your knees and looked up. “Hey.” he whispered and you smiled amused.

“Hey.” you whispered back.

“Whatcha doing?” he leaned his head on one of his arms and watched you with his grey eyes that reflected the child in him perfectly.

“I’m supposed to be writing notes but some Gryffindor decided to distract me.” “Must be a handsome Gryffindor to take your attention,”

“Quite an egoist, I’d say.”

“I’d say otherwise.” he winked, stretching his head if Flitwick suspected anything. He glanced back up at you and put his arms over your knees, his chin on top. “You’re pretty.” he said and you rolled your eyes.

“I bet you say that-”

“No.” he cut you off before you could finish. “You’re different.” he said. “Can I take you on a date?”

“We have a tes-”

“Yes?”

“I told-”

“So it’s a yes?”

“Sir-”

“I’d say that’s a yes.” he continued to cut you off as you punched his shoulder lightly and he curved a smile. “You can put your hair in a braid-like you usually do- but it’s really pretty if it’s a bit messed up. I think you look adorable in a messy braid.” he said and you smiled. “And your eyes are really pretty when you don’t put any makeup on. It outlines the colour- and it’s sunny on Friday so I’ll get to see it on the sun, which until now I haven’t had the chance to see it. I think they are beautiful on the sun- just as they are now.” he gazed deep in your eyes as your cheeks continued to burn. “And I like to see you blush. It’s so wonderful seeing you blush- especially if it’s me who causes it.” he then took your hands and looked up at you with his round eyes. “Will you go on a date with me?” he asked and waited patiently this time.

You smiled and nodded with your head. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” “Really?” his eyes lit up and you continued to nod, smiling.

“How could I say no after what you said?”

“Charming, aren’t I?”

“Trouble, I’d say.” you raised your eyebrow as he chuckled.

He kissed your knuckles lightly, letting his lips brush it softly. He looked up with his flaming eyes and curved another smirk. “Till Friday then, Miss (y/l/n).”

“Till Friday, then” you let your fingers hold on to his for a little while. They were soft as silk as if they haven’t worked a day in their life. His fingers were long and intertwining around yours. He sent a nod to James as James glanced at Flitwick. James’ smile dropped and he turned forward.

“Shit.” Sirius mumbled.

“Where is your seatmate, Mister Potter?”

“Seatmate?” James looked up, playing daft. “I’ve been sitting alone all year.” he lied.

“Now, Mister Potter, we both know you cannot even be alone in detention without your classmate, let alone sit without him.” Flitwick started to walk forward as Sirius hid behind you, crawling around the desk yet still holding your hand. “Where is he?”

“Who?”

“Mr. Black..”

“Black? Black?” James repeated, wondering. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Potter?” Flitwick warned. “If you don’t want points being taken from your house, I’d say you tell me now or suffer the consequences.”

“Alright. Alright. Sirius was feeling sick so he stormed out of class. You were so busy grading papers that you didn’t notice and I didn’t want to say anything.” he spoke calmly and if it wasn’t for the student sitting behind James, who kept glancing at your desk, Flitwick would have believed him.

Unfortunately, today was not a lucky day for the Marauder duo.

“Can’t believe I’m going to do this.” you mumbled, earning a confused look from Sirius behind you. You drew out your wand, pointed at the far corner near Flitwicks desk, and whispered. “Periculum.”

Two small flames shot from the tip of your wand and started exploding near Flitwick's desk. You hid your wand back inside and whispered to Sirius beside you.

“Go.” Sirius looked up at you in awe, his eyes glinting with something so bright as you smiled at him. “Go now when he’s distracted.” you pushed him and he kept watching you with the same eyes of adoration as he did before.

“I think I’m already in love with you.” he whispered, kissing your knuckles as you laughed.

“Go!” you nudged him again and he kissed your knuckles one last time before running around the desks and back to his seats.

Flitwick, as distracted as he was, quickly stopped the fireworks and turned back to James, seeing Sirius at the door, his hand on the knob as he closed it. Sirius’ eyes were confused, looking at the fireworks. “Did I miss something?” he asked as he continued to walk back to his desk.

“I told Professor Flitwick you got sick and then fireworks started going off.” James explained as Sirius shrugged and sat down.

“Celebrating my funeral already?” Sirius joked and the class laughed. “Sorry I didn’t excuse myself, professor. Just ate bad shrimp last evening.”

Flitwick was confused. What the bloody hell just happened? “I- uh-” he stumbled over his own words, looking back and forward. “That’s alright. Just go back to work.”

#sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #james potter #james potter imagine #maruaders imagine #manrauders era

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human-trash-fire · 3 years

Text

I don’t watch anime, like with the exception Yuri on Ice once/ being in the room when it’s on, I never have.

So anyways I started My Hero Academia solely because I saw some dope fanart for characters and was like “okay I’ma try it.”

I have no clue what it’s about but here are my reactions: (will add to this in reblog was I go)

This green haired kid makes me sad- stupid foot bone

Wow mom not cool

Eww the blonde kid is an asshole

How many names do they all have?!

Is that the captain America guy? He looks like such a tweaker

Oooooooooo secret time

Shit someone save the mean kid I like him for no reason whatsoever

Green goo monster is real wack

SECRET POWER MONTAGE

Pollution is shitty, pick up your trash fools

HE EATS A HAIR. ohhhhhh this feels very Ed Gein

Go little green haired twink gooooo

Oh sheiiiiiit he is like not doing great

I don’t like the magic belly button idk why but it freaks me out

Metal calves is a little much. Someone give that boy a sedative

Oh shit. On NOOOOOOO

Also metal calf’s with the look and run- what a duck move

Save the nice mouse girl!!!!

Oh crap sauce he broke his whole shit! Like floppy legs and everything

He has to get in tho bc like that’s the whole point of being a main character THEY BETTER LET HIM IN AJAKAJSKAJAKA

HE HAS BEEN SQUEEZING HIS GRIPPIES FOR LIKE A YEAR GIVE HIM HIS ACCEPTANCE MOTHER FUCKERS HE AMA ✨pure✨

Yo this teacher just rolling up looking high as shit in a sleeping bag is a whole ass mood™️ like same bro. If I could I’d live in a sleeping bag

that scarf is chill

Sirius Blck vibes for no reason

Wooooooooooab expelled?! He might be less cool than I thought

Oooof this is painful, like Izuku is so sweaty all the time but also like much smol bean. Feel deep need to protect

Still really like this Bakugou dude- idk why. Maybe it’s the damage 🤣

All Might out here flexing for 3hrs a day with the muscles but like what does he do for his other classes? Does he not have any

Diggin the costumes

Except why he look like the energized bunny tho. It’s supes cute his mom made it but also

Seriously Bakugou looks legit as fuck

What’s up with that half and half hair kid I’ve seen in all the art? He looks like someone glued cotton puffs to his body. I don’t like this outfit

How is anyone this optimistic?

Of COURSE they have to fight each other bc plot

Woah man, I’m like into grenade hands but this seems harsh

DO NOT SHOOT THE BOY YOU CLEARLY HAVE MIXED FEELINGS FOR ITS RUDE

holy FUCK

Toasty handz done lost his fucking shit

That attack tho was clutch with the timing

Half and half hair guy- like I literally watched this show bc someone made cool art of you and you’ve said one sentence

But you still have potential

When you ditch the marshmallow outfit also what’s your power quirk thingy

Also this bird faced dude and frog girl I’m kinda confused by

Woooooah metal calf’s taking this real serious™️ and that’s on type A personality shit

Running running running

I feel like team hero would be all like that but one of them is barfing rainbows and little Izuku is straight up *le dead*

Yo, the nurse lady with the kisses is gon get so tired of his ass

Me @my partner in the other room “DOES HE EVER STOP BREAKING SHIT OR IS HE A ONE HIT WONDER FOREVER?!”

Apparently it takes ✨patience✨ he got swole In like one episode and now? Like 8 broken bones

How am I on episode 8?

This theme music was annoying but now I’m dancing in my room because okay then

shoot spicy hands is in trouble- like idk why I like him? Is it because I like toxic problem children with deep seeded issues?

And also why does he feel like he is secretly not with the straight

Is everyone going to be straight? The art I saw promised the gay- it’s why I’m here

Okay- Momo whoever you are: nice boobs but that BRAIN THO

Up next: a guy with 9 arms and an invisible girl

Like the fur hood but on the shoulder it’s a ✨statement piece✨

Replicate any body part?

YO ICY TWO-HAIR IS HERE

seriously what is this tin foil

ELSA

he speaks

Yooooooo he froze the whole ass fucking building that’s on BDE

Oh shit the tail. Did NOT see that coming

oh nooo WHAT HE HAS HOT HNDS TOOOOOOO

Bakugou about to be big mad

Todoroki (had to look up spelling) this dude is awesome

Elbow tape?

This spiked haired ginger with the bane mask and sharp teeth seems real excited about life

“No major injuries except for my adopted son who is a walking disaster”

*Cough cough * tweaker dads back- this answered my teaching question tho

“Already a regular patient” 🤣🤣🤣 she is like Edna mode sized nana

I feel like this is foreshadowing that only 4 peeps know he ate a magic musketeers hair

I really need to sleep but homie still in the hospital so I can’t

“Choke me with his scarf” 🤣🤣🤣🤣

#Friendsssssss

Jesus metal calves needs a fucking drink idgaf if he 12 he looks 42 and gives me stress

Oh no, Bakugou is big pouty. Come back bro- y’all can kiss and make up it’s fine. Without you there is no plot

NO HE ISNT GOONG TO TWLL HOM NO NO NO

Jesus fucking shit fire he just barfed that info out on the floor

Pro Tip: don’t tell this kid shit

Friends to Enemies to super enemies to......?????

Yo number one hero or big villain energy? Regardless I stan your problematic ass

DAD’S BACK

#HeroSpeechTime

Yo no COME BACK FOOL

“Kee chasing after him” there is NO WAY this munchkin is straight

#my hero academia #mha #first time watching #live reaction #midoriya izuku #todoroki shōto #katsuki bakugou #all might

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monsieur-hadrien · 3 years

Text

Test of My Patience (The Only Way of Knowing You) - Drarry Oneshot

Inspired by Fine Line by Harry Styles

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, 2.2k word count, crossposted on AO3, 7 November 2020

After the end of fifth year, Harry can't help but notice that something is terrifying Draco.

I recommend reading this while listening to Fine Line slowed and reverbed (linked above) I’m telling you it makes the experience a little more painful.

***

Harry knew something was off with Draco. Ever since the end of fifth year and the whole debacle at the Ministry, his partner had been worryingly silent.

It wasn’t like Draco to be so curt in his letters. He claimed that it’s so Harry had something to keep his spirits up while he was with the Dursleys, and, to be honest, when they spent their first summer apart while being, you know, together, that was probably true. Even though Harry sometimes didn’t have the time to write as detailed responses as his partner’s (who knew if his Uncle Vernon would decide to snoop through his things just to find out that his delinquent nephew was not only a wizard but, heaven forbid, a homosexual. Granted, Harry was bi, not gay, but it’s not like his bigoted family would ever care to know the difference), Draco would always send him lengthy accounts of his time away.

Draco’s letters consisted of retellings of the everyday life at the Malfoy Manor, whether it be the balls that he attended or the fascinating old books he found while perusing the ancient shelves of the manor library. Occasionally he would send Harry some wizarding treats or a book that he thought he would like, usually pertaining to defense spells or warding. Throughout the whole research-paper-long letter, Draco made sure to berate Harry’s decision to stay at the Dursleys’. Not that Harry detested him for it, it was quite the opposite, actually. It felt nice to know that his boyfriend cared about him, even if he showed it through half-hearted insults.

I don’t understand how you could still be this daft, Draco would write. After all of the quality time you spend with me, one would assume that you’d have taken a lesson in self-preservation. That is not the case, however. It seems that it is truly impossible to take the courageous self-sacrifice out of the Gryffindor.

He’d go on to write later, Although in this situation absolutely detest your asinine Gryffindorish tendencies, I not only love you despite them but because of them, you barmy git.

A boyish grin would always make its way to Harry’s lips whenever Draco said “the l-word” as he used to call it. Despite whatever Harry may claim out loud, he adored words of affirmation, especially from Draco, directly contradicting the cold, formal exterior he put on for the masses. In turn, Harry always made an effort to compliment Draco or tell Draco he loved him. Especially while cuddling, Harry liked to break out “the l-word,” just to see Draco get all flustered and grumbly before melting into Harry’s arms. They both sopped up all the hugs and cuddles they could get while they were alone, using the Room of Requirement they found at the beginning of second term to their full advantage. Apparently, touch-starved childhoods make for lots of cuddle sessions with your significant other later on.

The two were very open with each other. For Harry, it was a lot about the Tri-Wizard Tournament and his family, whereas Draco would vent not only about his family pressures but his father’s shady deals with Death Eaters he didn’t want anything to do with. He believed in the preservation of pureblood tradition, of course; he wasn’t going to leave behind centuries of information and culture. He didn’t think that mass genocide was the answer, no matter what garbage he spouted in their earlier years.

Draco trusted Harry with this information, information that could very well get him disowned and outcast, and Harry vice versa. This was why Harry was so worried when Draco wouldn’t tell him the details of his summer. Harry told Draco that he saw his father in the Department of Mysteries with the Dark Lord that night. That it was his fault that he was sent to Azkaban. Draco constantly reassured him that it wasn’t his fault, that it was his father’s actions that caused his own undoing, especially for attacking his boyfriend. He was hurt though. Harry could tell, and maybe it wasn’t anger towards him, but it would be hard not to feel some sort of emotion toward the imprisonment of the man who raised you. Even if they were disgustingly racist and cold to their own child.

Instead of Draco’s usual letters, Harry had been receiving short paragraphs about how the gardens look gorgeous this time of year, and that he wished he was there to see it. The letter was addressed to “Bambi” (after mentioning to Draco that that’s what Sirius and Remus would call him sometimes, he had a right laugh before kissing a sulking Harry on the cheek and telling him that it was adorable), and closing it with Best Regards, Dragon. Draco didn’t ever use pet names with Harry, that just wasn’t something he did. And while Harry would be the first to admit that he could be oblivious sometimes, it didn’t take long for him to piece together that Draco had reason to believe that something, or someone, would try to intercept and read their correspondence.

Yes, it was safe to say that Harry was worried. Very worried.

Harry couldn’t address his worry until next term. He didn’t want Draco to stop writing to him completely. If Harry knew anything at all about his boyfriend, it’s that he couldn’t force his feelings out of him. The minute anyone tried to get Draco to talk about something he’d rather not, he would shut them out completely. It happened at the beginning of fifth year when Harry tried to talk to him about Voldemort and what he and his family thought about the whole situation. Draco wouldn’t tell him anything and remained impassive the first time Harry asked, but as Harry kept asking, Draco pushed him farther and farther away. At first, Harry thought that it was because Draco didn’t believe him about Voldemort, but the sheer degree of avoidance was far too great for that to be Draco’s only reason.

The two almost broke up because of it, and Harry wouldn’t risk that again.

Finally, after the blood quill detentions became too extreme for Draco to not notice, he came clean. He came clean about his father’s alignment with the Dark Lord and his meddling in the Ministry, how the Minister had given Umbridge the go-ahead to hurt students and that he was complicit in the rise of Voldemort. He didn’t want Harry to think that he was anything like his father or that he subscribed to any of the views that his family or the Dark Lord pushed. It wasn’t just that, though. Draco had decided to blame himself for Harry’s abuse at the hands of Umbridge, that he could have stopped her from becoming a professor if he had just used his name and political clout. Harry reassured him time and time again after that it was never his fault and that it’s all the Ministry’s. It didn’t change Harry’s opinion of his partner. In fact, Harry had said, I could never blame you for such a thing. I love you too much to ever do that.

That was the first time Harry had ever said he “l-worded” Draco. That was also the first time Draco had ever cried in front of him.

As much as Harry feared for Draco, all he could do was wait.

***

Draco wouldn’t look at Harry. Not on the platform or the train. Not even during the feast in the Great Hall. Sure, their relationship wasn’t open knowledge, especially among Draco’s Slytherin companions and Harry’s Gryffindor friend group, but the two of them have always made time to see each other. Draco wasn’t just being curt with him, he was actively avoiding him.

Now, that would just not do.

Harry made it his mission to try to catch Draco’s eye while the students filed out of the hall. In his worried state, Harry forgot that Draco is a prefect and probably wouldn’t be able to see him tonight. He tried anyway, though.

After addressing the Slytherin first years, he looked to Harry who, with pleading eyes, mouthed, Meet me later.

It would have been invisible to anybody else, but Harry knew Draco’s body language like the back of his hand. Draco inclined his head slightly in agreement before turning on his heels to lead his younger years to their common room, his right hand fiddling with his cuticles, his sole nervous giveaway.

Harry made an excuse to Hermione and Ron about going to speak to Dumbledore to get away. Ron was too far into his food coma to protest, but Hermione, just as Harry knew Draco, could tell something was off with her best friend. She let him go, though, without any questions. She knew that if Harry wanted to share, he would.

Harry had never been more thankful for Hermione’s understanding than in that moment as he separated from his best friends and headed in the direction of the Room of Requirement.

***

When Harry and Draco had stumbled upon the Room of Requirement in their fourth year, they were in desperate need of alone time. With Harry being hounded by Hermione to prepare for the final task and with Draco’s building family troubles, their time together became a little escape from reality.

The Room of Requirement was a place where there were no Hogwarts houses or childish rivalries, no purebloods, or half-bloods, or muggle-borns. For the first time, there were no labels that stood in between them or expectations to uphold. There was no Malfoy and Potter. They were just Draco and Harry. Draco was more warm and loving than Malfoy, just as Harry was more open and cool-tempered than Potter. While Malfoy and Potter were like ice and fire, Draco and Harry were like water and sunlight, perfectly complimenting each other. The Room of Requirement always knows what its users need, and what Draco and Harry needed was a safe space.

So a safe space is what they got.

The room hadn’t changed since the first time they had used it, as if it had known what they’d need in the future, even before the boys had known they’d be together for nearly two years. The simplistic wood furniture and fully-stocked kitchen along with their leather sofa facing a roaring fireplace and queen-size bed in the corner were cozy and familiar. The two had spent many nights, weekends, and free periods in their little apartment, enough time to where they knew whose dent in the cushions was whose and whose socks belonged in whose drawer. For a couple of teenage boys, they were quite domestic. Harry, who always wanted a family and home of his own, loved every second of it, and, although he would never admit it, Draco loved it too. He loved to see Harry as in his element as he was when they were alone together. If Harry loved it, Draco loved it by default.

It felt odd for Harry to wait there on his own. More often than not, they would meet each other there after curfew, but because Harry tended to be chronically late to most functions, Draco was almost always there waiting for him. But not only that, it just didn’t feel the same without Draco there with him.

For such a small space, it felt suffocatingly large without his other half.

Harry waited for Draco to arrive for what felt like ages, bouncing his leg anxiously while sitting on the sofa. The second he heard the door open he sprung up to face it. There stood Draco, looking as dashing and closed-off as ever. Harry hadn’t seen that coldness in his eyes in quite some time, at least not within the walls of their room. He decided not to dwell on it, however, and proceeded to dart toward Draco with a renewed purpose, drawing him into a tight embrace.

Draco’s eyes widened with concealed panic ever so slightly, and Harry could feel him begin to tense in his arms. Before he could pull away, the shorter boy buried his head into the nape of Draco’s neck and clung onto his shirt for dear life, clenching the loose fabric tight in his fists.

“I missed you, you annoying git,” Harry grumbled with no bite.

Harry felt Draco soften in his arms at the words. He looked up at him, only to see his cold front melting into fear, tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. “I missed you too, Haz,” Draco whispered, nearly inaudible. “So, so much.”

Something happened. Something very bad had happened. It was written all over Draco’s face, his body language, hell, even in his greeting. Harry was worried. Scratch that, he was absolutely fucking terrified for Draco. His confident, loving, stubborn Draco. Whatever had scared him enough to break him down into tears was enough for Harry. He almost didn’t want to know, but the look on Draco’s face made Harry want to burn all of London to the ground in revenge. The only feeling Harry felt for those who hurt his loved ones was untameable, unbridled rage. Whoever did this would pay.

But not then. That would all be in due time. At that moment, however, what Draco wanted, no needed, was a shoulder to cry on and a long cuddle session.

Harry could do that too.

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iplaymatchmaker · 3 years

Note

(2) my mbti is infp-t and the last time i did the pottermore test i got a ravenclaw, so there's that! oh and i'm also quite introverted so you won't find me in rowdy places like a party or concert. i don't do great with people who force me out of my comfort zone, people who aren't decisive and aren't the communicative type (i get anxious trying to guess what they mean and overthink). for the prompts i'd like bonding and fairytale au for cinderella! thank you so much! o(≧▽≦)o -juice

Hello, thanks again for requesting Juice! Once again, sorry for the delay. This is the ikerev part of your ask. I’m sorry in advance for the rushed ending of the second prompt, I didn’t want to take even longer writing an entire fic and thought this was a good place to leave it. I hope you like it!

I match you with

Sirius!

When you first arrive in Cradle you are wary of the army officers, but the warm environment makes it easy to relax and be yourself. You quickly grow close with the Queen, Sirius. Your friendship begins when you catch him watering the flowers in the courtyard. You are surprised at first, considering your first impression of him, but that is quickly forgotten as he rambles to you about the importance of maintaining the garden, even with a war in the horizon.

Despite his busy schedule, the two of you spend a lot of time together, and it quickly becomes apparent that you are compatible. The black army headquarters has always been a lively place, curtsey of Fenrir and Seth, but Sirius is glad to have another cheerful voice around, especially when it’s paired with your friendly chatter.

While you dislike showcasing your worries and insecurities, Sirius is always quick to read you and tries his best to lift your spirits without pressuring you to talk when you’re not ready.

You spend a lot of time exploring each other’s interests, as he introduces you to the ways of Cradle and you teach about him about the Land Reason. At first he tries to blame this on simple curiosity, but the reality of it is, he enjoys listening to you talk about the things you’re passionate about, sometimes wishing he could make your eyes light up the same way they do when you discuss your favorite books, although he won’t tell you that.

You finally confess your feelings, moments before the full moon rises and the portal back to your world appears. Until that moment, when Sirius’ hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks, you thought he didn’t return your feelings. It wasn’t until then that he expressed to you how much he wanted you to stay. “I know it’s selfish, but I want you to stay by my side!” All the pieces fell into place as he wrapped his arms around you, your bodies so close you could feel his pounding heart, realizing he must’ve run to catch up with you. “I will.”

Prompt: Bonding

It was hard to contain your excitement as you walked the narrow streets of Cradle, your hand not leaving Sirius’ as you looked at the shop windows.

“Look at that dress!” You pulled him along, hearing him chuckle behind you, not daring to complain as you dragged him inside the store.

You had agreed on this shopping trip a few days ago, on one of the rare days Sirius was staying in your room instead of the opposite. Your attention had been solely focused on your book for about an hour when he spoke up.

“We should go out on Saturday.” While he was always thoughtful, he didn’t often suggest outings, considering his packed schedule.

“Aren’t you on patrol with Fenrir on Saturday?” you couldn’t deny your excitement at the prospect of spending time with Sirius, but you didn’t want to burden him,

“I have already spoken with him. With Amon gone, there isn’t too much work for us during patrol. He can handle it on his own. So what do you say?”

“Okay!” You nodded, pulling him closer as you set your book aside.

While you enjoyed your time trying new clothes and browsing the bookshelves around the shops, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that Sirius was spending his day off following you doing things you enjoyed, despite his reassuring words.

“Don’t worry about me, I can keep up.”

You decided to take a break at one of the nearby cafes for much needed rest. You tried your best to read him but you had difficulty guessing what he was thinking.

“So, are you having fun?” you were taken aback by his question, considering he was letting you take him around town to all the places you wanted to visit.

“Of course I am! The weather is wonderful today too.” You took a bite of your desert, hoping to successfully bury your worries where he couldn’t see them.

“I can tell when something is bothering you, you know.” It didn’t seem to fool him. You sighed before reaching out to cover his hand with yours.

“I just want you to enjoy today too. This is your day off, we should be doing something you enjoy.” He squeezed your hand, his smile not faltering.

“Seeing you having fun is more than enough joy for me.” You could tell there was something he wasn’t telling you but you decided to leave it alone, not wanting to ruin the day.

“Thanks Sirius.”

By the time you returned to headquarters the sun had set and both of you were exhausted. After a quick shower you found Sirius outside, carefully inspecting a batch of purple and white flowers in the garden.

“What’s that one?” You stand next to him, wrapping your overcoat tighter around yourself.

“Night Phlox. They’ve almost bloomed. They have a very strong but pleasant smell when you plant many of them near each other.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around you, shielding you from the cold.

“What do they mean?”

“They can mean all sorts of things, but the most widely accepted meaning is partnership, harmony and unity. Pretty spot on for the black army, don’t you think?’ you smiled, enjoying listening to him talk about something with such care.

“Yeah.” The sound of the wind against the leaves was the only thing breaking the silence until you spoke up.

“Hey Sirius, why were you so intent on making today all about me?” there was no accusation in your voice, a simple question spoken under the night sky, a time where people can be honest, without hiding their troubles.

“We spend a lot of time at headquarters because of my job, doing things that I’m comfortable with. I just wanted to spend a day bonding over something you enjoy doing.” He tightened your arms around him, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

“You know I love spending time with you, no matter what we’re doing.”

“And I love seeing you happy.” Your eyes locked and an overwhelming feeling of joy spread through you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Prompt: Cinderella AU

It was becoming increasingly difficult to mask your disdain as ambitious men reached out every few minutes, attempting to make conversation. You could offer them more than a smile and a kind word, knowing that everyone there had an ulterior motive.

“An organized ball where the goal is to woo me isn’t exactly a romantic story now isn’t it?” you didn’t want to deny your father’s wishes, knowing there was pressure as he grew older for you to find a husband, but it was still hard to accept that you would never have the chance to live a fairytale-love story, like those you read about in books.

“What you need is a secure future. This is for your own good.”

You knew that if you were to achieve that goal, you would need to interact with the men at the ball, but the context of the celebration made hard to relax, let alone do so in a room full of people.

“Daughter, this is a ball. Should you not be dancing?” your father’s voice was full of concern, despite his previous incitement.

“Yes, I will do that, father.” Not wanting to upset him, you smiled before setting off towards the middle of the room as the band started playing a quick valse. You looked around for a partner when you felt strong arms around, pulling you along with the other dancers.

“I’m sorry if that was out of line, you looked a little lost.” When you looked up to see the face of your partner, your words died in your throat. He stood quite a bit taller than you and his eyes were a deep shade of purple, unlike anything you had seen before.

“U-um, yeah.” You tried not to forget the steps as the two of you moved along, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, tripping over your skirts.

“So, how come the princess herself finds a moment alone during a ball in her honor?” despite his teasing words, you could tell he felt out of place in the crowded room.

“I’m not sure I’d consider this an honor… “ concern imideately painted his features but you didn’t want to bother a guest with your own issue.

“So, where are you from? I don’t believe we have met before.” You run a mental list of acquaintances from the local noble houses but you didn’t remember seeing him before.

“I’m… “ his voice trailed off, leaving you with many burning questions.

“I’m Sirius, Sirius Oswald.” He smiled, the uncertainty from moments before replaced with a warm smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You smiled at him, deciding not to pressure him for answers he didn’t want to give.

“You never answered my question” he spun you as the music sped up, taking you by surprise.

“You didn’t answer mine either.” A playful smile played on your lips.

“I suppose I can’t deny that.” Through the bur around you, you could see that the rest of the couple had left the dance floor, placing the two of at the center of the attention.

“Everyone is looking at us.” A faint blush appeared on your cheeks a you danced together.

“They are looking at you.” He smiled at you, his grip on your waist tightening.

“Are you ready?”

“For what?”

Before you could question him further, you were in the air, your dress spinning around you. Time seemed to slow down, a feeling of freedom flowing through you. From your position you could see the faces of the party-goers but in that moment it didn’t matter. It was just you and him, a scene right out of a fairytale.

When he set you down, your cheeks were flushed, heart pounding in your chest. You barely registered the music slowly fading away as they switched to a softer sound.

“Thank you for the dance.” His hand left yours, while his warmth sill lingered.

“My lady.’ He bowed before turning to leave.

“Wait! Could I see you again?” you resisted the urge to grab his hand, not wanting to make a scene.

“I’m not sure that would be the best idea.” You tried to speak up but your voice was drowned out by the surrounding noise, so you could only watch as he moved further and further away, before eventually disappearing in the crowd, leaving you alone, with only a brief memory to look back to.

Rumors of the charming man who danced with the princess could be heard all around town during the next few days. You tried to keep your head low as you walked around the stalls, looks for the right shop.

When you opened the door, a bell sounded, announcing your arrival.

“Hello. How could I help you?” A tall man stood at the back of the room, watering a patch of white flowers. You looked around the room to ensure you were alone before removing your hood, still unsure of whether this was a good idea.

“P-princess.” He fell into a quick bow, not daring to look at you.

“Hello Mr. Oswald.” He hesitantly raised his head, looking over the cloak covering your dress.

“Just call me Sirius. How did you find me?” an awkward smile appeared on his lips.

“I told you I wanted to see you again. Plus, after you told me your name, it wasn't very hard to find you.” You stepped closer, looking at the assortment of flowers around you.

“So this is where you’re from.” You were only teasing, but he seemed to have misunderstood.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you. I wanted to keep up the illusion but the you came here and..” you were taken aback by his genuine apology.

“N-no, I’m not disappointed!.”

“You aren’t?” You nodded, trying to express your feelings as best you could.

“No, I’m not. Why would I be?’ he run a hand through his hair, messing it up more than before.

“I’m just a commoner. And you’re a princess. There is no reason for you to be interested…” you shook your head firmly.

“I didn’t want to meet you again because I thought you were a noble. I just... I want to feel what I felt when we danced together again.” You were expecting him to laugh at you, but he only looked back in awe.

“W-was that odd? I apologize, I just-“ he didn’t allow you to finish.

“No! It’d not off, I’m just… surprised. I don’t have much to offer to a princess.” he fidgeted with the hem of his apron, eyes glued to the ground.

“Could you perhaps offer me some of your time? I would like to get to know you better.” A smile slowly formed on his face.

“Alright then. Who am I to say no to the princess after all?”

“Thank you.” You smiled at each other, excited to see where this would lead you.

You spent a lot of time together after that, slowly getting to know more about each other. When you introduced him to your father, he was admittedly hesitant at the idea of you not marrying a noble, but when he saw how happy the two of you were together, he couldn’t deny you your wishes.

“You have my blessing. You better take care of my daughter young man.”

“Always, sir. I love your daughter more than anything.” He placed a kiss on you hand, a promise of greater things to come.

“And I you.” Happiness overflowed you as your lips met in a light kiss, sealing the truth of your words.

#ikerev #ikerev matchup #ikemen revolution #ikerev sirius #sirius oswald #cybird ikemen #ikemen series

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karmathecat · 3 years

Text

Firewhiskey is Not the Best Mixer | Part 5

The next installment of my next gen/marauder time travel fic!

FF | AO3

After the quickest lunch of their lives, the group made their way up to the seventh floor. Lily was doing all she could to not break out into a full run up the moving staircases, which were thankfully in position for where they needed to go as if the castle knew the importance of their journey.

“If the room is on the seventh floor, we’ll have to be careful it’s out of bounds because of construction after the fifth years blew a hole in the wall fighting and burst a pipe. Apparently magical sewer systems can’t be fixed with a repairing charm. If we get caught up there we’ll be in deep shit, so be quick about getting into the room.” Lily thought it was amusing that her grandmother wasn’t necessarily against breaking the rules, but against getting caught. A trait that she definitely saw in herself.

“I just can’t believe that we never knew about this, we’ve explored this castle, how many times? And we never came across a room that could give us anything we wanted?” Sirius seemed almost insulted that the castle had never revealed such a secret to the Marauders. Lily couldn’t help but think that it was a good thing that these boys didn’t have access to a room that could supply them with countless inconveniences for the rest of the school. She knew that her brother would have used his knowledge of this room on countless occasions to make her life miserable whilst they were both at school if it had been available to him.

“Maybe you just never needed something enough.” Al shrugged his shoulders as they stopped at the stretch of wall that Lily knew the room was. She had heard the stories about the DA so many times, demanding her dad tell her about all the times that he had taught the rebellious group.

I need a room with a time turner that allows me to travel years forward in time.

Whilst Lily was pacing, James took out the Marauder’s Map. He knew that not adding this room’s discovery to the map would bother his completionist side, he knew it was here now so it needed to be added. He found the seventh floor on the map, saw the group standing around and was about to mark the section that Lily was pacing in front of to add the room later, when he froze. He felt the heat start in his toes and rise limb to limb until he knew for a fact that his face and ears were so red heat could be felt without touching his skin.

“James?”

He ignored the other, staring intently at the map, watching the name pace back and forth as he knew the girl, Lily’s granddaughter, was doing to access the room. Then the name stopped, and James looked up to see the younger girl looking at him in confusion, behind her a door had appeared in the space where a blank wall once was moments before. He could also feel the eyes of his three best mates, the girl he loved, and his grandsons on him, probably questioning his weird reaction.

“Lily Potter.”

Lily’s eyes widened as she drew in a sharp breath. The map. How could she forget the map?

“It says here your name is Lily Luna Potter.” It wasn't a question, they both knew that the map never lied and that was her name, she couldn’t deny it.

Before James could question her, or Lily could open her mouth, a noise was heard at the end of the corridor.

“Filch! Quick everyone in.” Remus rushed forward, opened the door that Lily’s pacing had conjured. The momentary surprise evaporated and as one the group charged into the room just as Filch rounded the corner. The door slammed shut behind them and the caretaker was none-the-wiser.

Once the shock of running into the room wore off, all of the Marauders turned to look at Lily.

“You’re a Potter then?” It was surprisingly Peter who addressed Lily, as he was someone who had skirted around the three time travellers as if he didn’t quite know what to make of them.

Lily blew out a breath, and knowing what she needed, two sofas that looked identical to those in the Gryffindor common room appeared in front of them. Lily took her grandmother and the Marauders to the sofas to sit. Lily noticed her two brothers did not join them, but knew that this conversation was more pressing than looking for them.

“It said it on the map Pete, you know the map doesn’t lie it’s linked to your magical signature.”

“Let me see then.” James went into his robe pocket to pull out the map, but felt nothing. He started patting his other pockets and looking around him, but to no avail.

“I must have dropped it! If Filch saw it outside in the corridor he’ll definitely have confiscated it!” James swore and looked at his friends apologetically, distraught at having lost such a precious item through carelessness.

“If it makes you feel better,” Lily spoke up, “you losing the map to Filch is how my dad ended up with the map in the first place. So, if you think about it, you losing it now was actually the best thing that you could have done.” The four boys seemed to consider this, exchanged a heavy look between them and nodded in silent communication. Lily was certain that this was what people meant when they said that the three Potter children could communicate without words and it was very disconcerting to watch. However, when growing up the children of the most famous man in their society with every eye on them at all times, they had to be able to say the things they were truly feeling without it getting printed in that evening’s paper. Each of the Potter children had learnt the hard way who they could trust and what they could say when. The constant secret keeping and trouble making that these boys got into was another example of high stakes communication, so she understood better than most the importance of the exchange that had occurred in front of her eyes. Without having spoken out loud, it was clear that James was chastised but Lily’s words were considered and he was forgiven, the entire exchange had taken no longer than 30 seconds.

Lily watched as her grandmother eyed the boys, she could tell that the Head GIrl understood that a communication was occurring, but not what was being said. It must be exhausting to be around such a tight knit group but not being privy to the information and exchanges that passed between them. Lily Evans was staring at James without any embarrassment, she knew the conversation that was about to occur and she was determined to get her opinion across if it was the death of her.

James nodded and then directed the conversation back to Lily, “So you are a Potter? Lily Potter.”

Lily looked towards the Head Girl before nodding. “Yes, James and Al are my older brothers.”

“So what does that mean?” Sirius looked Lily up and down and for the first time since yesterday eyed her with slight distrust.

“Well, it means that my parents' surnames are Potter.”

“Don’t be cute, we’ve come this far now you might as well tell us.” Sirius shook his head and a ghost of a smile appeared as Lily blew out another breath and knew she’d been caught. What was the harm anyway, one half of her grandparents already knew it wasn’t like she was changing the course of history, she was just being honest.

“Okay, well, James and I are named after my dad’s parents: James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans.”

Lily let her words settle over the group. The redhead sat beside her was running her hands up and down her thighs in anxiety staring intently at James whose eyes were fixed solely on his granddaughter.

“We all owe you five galleons.” Remus’ words were unexpected, but seemed to break the tension that Lily’s words had left. Sirius let out a loud laugh and clapped James hard on the shoulder who seemed to still be in a state of shock. Lily hid her giggle behind her hand and glanced over at Lily who was still intensely staring at James who was still let to look at her. If Lily was honest with herself it looked like James was in a state of shock.

Lily cocked her head to the side at the other Marauders, and as four they stood to allow the two Heads to talk about Lily’s revelation.

“Let’s go and find my brothers yeah?” The boys nodded and Lily looked around at the room for the first time. It was one long room with shelves on each side. On both shelves there were various devices which Lily presumed were variations of the time turner based on her request to the room. Beneath each device there was a plaque describing the device's name and a brief summary of how to use it. Lily walked over with the three Marauders to her brothers who were both standing at a section of shelf and were in deep discussion.

“Hey Lil, finally revealed our familial bond?” James laughed as Lily hit him on the arm.

“Noticed that you two were conveniently absent for that conversation!”

“We thought that you had it handled, and why put myself in an awkward conversation when I don’t have to!” Al laughed as Lily’s glare was directed towards him next.

Remus laughed at the siblings’ antics, and now that he knew he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t realised their relationship purely based on their interactions, the playful banter and closeness that he had only seen in the Marauders who were described as brothers and not friends. But, Remus mused, it was easy to realise these things when you knew the information vital to understanding.

“Anyway, what have you found?” Al explained that whilst they were chatting they’d started looking at each of the time devices and were able to quickly dismiss the first few devices based on the fact they were theoretical prototypes and had never been used before. James explained that they weren’t to be trusted as something that worked in theory very rarely worked in practice without a bit of trial and error and they shouldn’t risk more errors with time travel. Lily couldn’t help but agree with their assessments, it was a rare treat to see both of her brothers in work mode as James never brought work home and Al was in another house.

“We’ve narrowed it down to this one here. The name on the plaque, she’s an Unspeakable that I studied for my exam. She created a lot of time manipulation devices and her success rate was very high. So if I was going to place my bets on any device that has been presented by the room it would be this one.” Al picked up the device that he was referring to. It looked like a standard time turner that she had seen in her textbooks but with my dials. It was a beautiful rose gold colour which she knew differed from the traditional gold.

James explained that there were three dials on the turner, days, months and years. Lily had to admit that it seemed simple in comparison to all of the intimidating devices that surrounded the simple one that her brothers had selected.

“There’s one more thing,” all of their attention was directed towards Al again, “we can’t take the devices out of the room. We’ll have to use the device here.” This made sense to Lily, the room created all of the devices so they only existed in the room so logically could only be used in the room.

“Okay then, shall we report back what’s going on and talk about how to go forward?”

X-X-X

Lily watched her granddaughter walk away with the Marauders and looked towards James. He was staring down into his lap, and didn’t look up when Lily slid into the seat next to him.

“James?”

He still didn’t look up and Lily felt a clenching in her chest, she thought that the knowledge that she and James were meant to be together was set in stone but now looking at him not acknowledging her she wasn’t so certain anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

James had spoken to softly that Lily wasn’t certain that she’d heard him. Why was he apologising to her?

“I’m sorry you were blindsided like that, I didn’t mean to put you in that position, I was just taken aback by seeing her name. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m so sorry Lily. If you need space and stuff I understand, I obviously love talking and being with you but finding out about Lily, well that must have been a shock for you right now, and I know you don’t feel that way about me, so yeah, I’d understand if you need some space.”

James hadn’t looked at Lily the whole time he spoke, but delivered his speech to his lap where his hands twisting around themselves.

“James, I knew about Lily,” James’ head shot up to look at her for the first time, “she told me last night.”

James frowned at her and stared intently, “you knew?”

“I knew.”

“And you’ve still been around me all morning and acting normal?”

Lily sighed, she knew that this was the time to put all her cards on the table, but now the time was here she felt the anxiety settle deep in her stomach.

“James, I wanted to know if our lives were intertwined through our grandchildren because our children happened to get together, or whether it was you and me. I wanted to know from my granddaughter whether I was wasting my time falling in love with you and if I’d missed my chance with you. Because I am, falling in love with you I mean.”

“What?” James had never been so shocked in his life, he had no idea. He thought that the time that they had spent together this year had been amazing, they had been getting closer but he hadn’t let himself hope for something more, he went to bed every night telling himself that friendship was enough.

“I’ve been falling in love with you since last year, I thought you might have gotten over me and I’d missed my chance, but hearing that from Lily well I let myself believe that maybe I still had a chance, but if that isn’t the case and you don’t want to be anything more than friends then-” Lily was abruptly cut off my James’ mouth on hers. The kiss was urgent but soft and exactly what Lily imagines kissing James would be like.

James pulled back and looked Lily in the eye for the first time, “I never want you to say something as ridiculous as me not wanting you, ever again. Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, how long I've hoped this could happen.”

This kiss was slow and steady, and melted Lily from the inside out and she felt at home.

“Go out with me Evans?”

“Always.”

Lily looked over her shoulder when they heard the others approaching. Lily was smiling at the new couple with joy.

“Come on you two, we have a lot to discuss. Let’s go back to the common room.”

#harry potter fic #time travel fic #next gen #next gen harry potter #lily luna potter #James Sirius Potter #james potter #lily evans #marauders

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phantoms-lair · 4 years

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Harry Potter and the Demon’s Name snippet

The secondary teachers lounge was rather full for a Friday evening (a new addition to the castle, and one all the teachers conveniently forgot to inform Umbridge of). Most of the Hogwarts faculty was milling about when Minerva swept in and went straight for the liqueur supply. She grabbed a bottle of single malt and was reaching for a shot glass when she seemed to think better of it. Instead she popped the top of the spirit and drank directly from the bottle.

"Minerva!" Pomona Spout snatched the drink from her hands. "I don't know what's wrong, but I refuse to believe the meeting with Mr. Potter and the Headmaster went so poorly as that."

"It was bad enough" the Transfiguration teacher said mulishly. "Of course meeting might be the wring word for it. Ambush is more like it."

"Ambush?" Flitwick felt his curiosity grow, as much he was trying to focus on Minerva's very out of character near-breakdown.

"Aye. He had Severus waiting there so they could accuse him of the recent attacks on that wretched toad. Of course Severus stuck to his normal line of accusing and insulting the lad, and no more than that."

"And that's what has you so upset?" Pomona asked gently, still keeping the bottle from Minerva's reach.

"No, that was the realization that for all my Gryffindor pride I've somehow become a bloody coward."

"If Mr. Potter said anything of the kind, he's talking out of his arse." Sinestra said, her lips pursed in disapproval.

Minerva snorted. "I don't think the lad said two words to me. No, that realization was mine and mine alone, had it while Harry was raking Albus over the coals."

“ 'E Wouldn't." Hagrid protested.

"He did and not without cause." Minerva shot back. "He asked Albus what exactly it was he did to keep the school safe and, reputation aside, the answer was pretty much nothing. And when Albus has been challenged, by Lucius Malfoy three years ago and Fudge this year, he just folds and retreats. It was infuriating, but have any of us done any better?" She gestured around the room. "We knew it was trouble when Albus wanted to hide the stone here, but we did as he asked, even if it didn't make sense. We knew Slytherin's creature had killed before, but instead we carried on like nothing was wrong, as it built up a count of victims and nearly killed Miss Weasley. And might I add none of us were any help in stopping it either." She didn't bring up two years prior. Sirius's guilt or innocence and what Albus had or hadn't done was solely on him.

"Last year we knew something was wrong when Harry was entered into the tournament, but did any of us put any real effort into finding out who had done it, or tried to help the lad? No, we just continued on as a fourteen year old was forced to compete in a blood sport for entertainment, watched a friend die, and was forced to rescue himself from a dark lord after suffering from cruciatus exposure." She flung up her hands. "I can't even use the excuse that he doesn't come to us. He's asked the faculty for help, and has generally been ignored at best and attacked at worst. I'm supposed to be a Gryffindor, House of the Brave and Noble. But when things got bad I've been sitting back with my hands tied while a wee bairn risks his life. Harry told Albus to his face that he felt the need to put himself at risk because he couldn't bring himself to wait 'around for children to solve his problems for him'. Why does it take a teenager to do what right while I let Albus lead me around like sheep?"

"You're right," said Filious after a moments thought. "At the very least that we have blindly followed the Headmaster's lead even when we disagreed with it. Still, I think you're not giving yourself enough credit. Mr. Potter had been causing you no end of problems his first year, correct?"

"I hadn't heard of much trouble," Septima pointed out, "And I'm sure Severus would have been crowing for days if there had been,"

"There must have something," Flitwick said, logically. "Minerva wouldn't have taken four hundred and fifty points from three first years on a first offense, aside from the troll fiasco." And trying to stop a classmate from doing something exceedingly foolish was hardly something he could fault the boy for.

Luckily the was a chair behind Minerva and she slumped down, a shocked look on her face.

"Oh, Minerva," Charity shook her head.

"I saw them out and about and pulled a Severus and saw James and his little band of miscreants. I didn't even let him try to explain, just decided on my own what happened based on Neville's story of a dragon."

Hagrid's chair suddenly squeaked as he shuffled a bit nervously.

"Hagrid," her voice took on a dangerous quality. "Would you perchance know why those three were out that night?"

Hagrid didn't say anything, but it wasn't hard to see the guilt on his face. And it didn't take long for an answer Minerva never dreamed of to come to mind. "Rubeus Hagrid, was there actually a dragon?"

"He...he was just a baby."

If she wasn't already sitting she would have collapsed in shock. "You had an illegal dragon, involved a number of first years, and then let them take the fall for you." She hissed. Then she stood up and snatched the Malt from Pomona. "Tonight, I am getting drunk. Tomorrow, I'm investigating one of Mr. Potter's accusations against the Toad. And if it's true, we'll need a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher."

"But Minerva, the Ministry will-"

"Let them try," She hissed. "They are done having their own way and I am done relying on children."

"Huh," Betegeuse said, watching invisibly. "Probably need to get in any licks I can on Umbridge tonight." Though he would miss making her scream, Harry had given him no shortage of targets to have fun with.

#Harry Potter and the Demon's Name #Harry Potter #BeetleJuice The Musical #Ghost Writing #McGonagall is done

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