poleodrops

[poleodrops]

J/R Big Bang: Day 9 reveal is posted!

Welcome to Day 9 of the J/R Big Bang! Today's fest reveal is: The Last King of Slytherin written by @heyvirgo4, with art by @jamofsunshine - special thanks to LadyRaeverie and @poleodrops for beta'ing this work!

Explicit | 4,859 words | 2/10 chapters | Posting as a WIP

Summary:

Recently crowned King of Slytherin, Regulus Black, is grieving the death of his father and older brother, while trying to keep his country together. In the spirit of diplomacy, the Queen Mother invites the royal family of Gryffindor for an official visit.

What happens when Gryffindor’s Crown Prince catches Regulus’ eye as his country is on the verge of a revolution will surely alter the course of history forever.

Click here to check out all the incredible work by our participants, and, of course, show them some love with comments, kudos & rec's!

[poleodrops]

“every magic spell ends when the caster dies”

sirius has always known that. it was one of the first things his tutors told him when he was barely a toddler, and it was mentioned in some hogwarts' classes once or twice.

he sometimes ponders about it, how certain magic wasn't everlasting.

he witnessed it once, in his seventh year. the war had already started, and with each passing day, more and more students got black letters delivered, all of them mentioning some recently deceased relative. it was a third year ravenclaw girl he doesn't quite remember, but who always carried a fairy doll that her uncle enchanted to act like a living one. she always carried it in her pocket and let her out when she was bored or to show it to other students.

the day she got her letter at breakfast, she frantically searched her robes and took out the little doll, and it looked just like that, a doll. no more flapping wings, tiny giggles and fairy dust, just a toy. she burst into tears then, and was inconsolable for months.

it's one of sirius' most vivid memories.

it seemed so bizarre.

he prayed something like that never happened to him, because it would hurt. it would destroy him.

he was only given enchanted things by the people he loved the most, so he would know immediately if any of the different trinkets were to just go dull. the second it happened, he would know he has to face a reality without one the fundamental beings of his very self. it terrified him.

it was one of his biggest fears.

and it happened to him.

it was a thursday afternoon.

they had a rare free day. no fights, no funerals and no war in his and remus' flat, not for that day. james and peter were there too, an 'afternoon with the lads' they called it. they were laying on the living room, sprawled all over, bowie on the record player and cards on the table along with some beers.

he was on the way to the kitchen when he felt his hair falling out of the messy bun he did in the morning.

and, with a little clink, there was a metal star hairpin on the ground.

he knew then.

it was a secret, how he kept that hairpin. well, not a secret per se, but no one knew where it actually came from. only sirius.

no one knew he had the most horrendous time trying to tie his hair when it was long enough to do so. his hair was just as temperamental as him, which meant that they usually didn't get along. he suffered for months until that hairpin was gifted to him.

sirius didn't quite know how it really worked, just that it was charmed to make everything easier. he just had to think about the hairstyle he wanted for the day, and the hairpin would do it, shrinking or getting bigger if it was necessary, securing his hair perfectly and without much fuss.

no one knew that except sirius.

and regulus, who gifted it to him in his third year.

regulus.

his baby brother.

“every magic spell ends when the caster dies”

[poleodrops]

But what happens when the sun slips away and he’s stuck in the shadows once again?

[poleodrops]

TW: venting about CSA

Oh look, my trauma turned 18! I've carried this burden three times the amount of time I got to live as an untouched child. I still see you at the edge of the bed, at the edge of the bathtub. I see you everytime someone seems interested in me, in the way their eyes light up like yours did. I see you everytime I face a camera. I hope you feel even a tenth of the shame I carry with me everyday. I hope you remember me and flinch the same way I do when I remember you. You stole a part of me, and I hope you can feel her inside you, crying and screaming and kicking and begging. I hope she doesn't let you sleep. I hope you live in fear. I hope you go through life terrified at the idea that someone will uncover your dirty little secret. I hope everytime an abuser gets exposed on tv you panic, thinking you'll be the next one. I hope you're next. I hope they find the video of me you probably still enjoy at night, and throw you in prison. I hope you see the judgement and the disgust in most people's eyes, I hope you get attacked, I hope you spend the rest of your days walking on eggshells because of your own actions. I really fucking hope you rot the same way I've been doing for these past 18 years.

[poleodrops]

Regulus Arcturus Black

the only thing - sufjan stevens/unknown/unknown/wall - james hoch/unknown/class of 2013 - mitski/fable - gigi perez/Dune Messiah - Frank Herbert/unknown/unknown/fourth of july - sufjan stevens/unknown

[poleodrops]

EDIT: sorry but I have to put a disclaimer, no it doesn't have to just be trauma and it could just be a bad memory or some other condition, it's okay if this does not apply to you, it's okay if you just have a bad memory without trauma, there is more than one way for things to exist

[poleodrops]

The old house

[poleodrops]

[poleodrops]

using "Walburga's A+ Parenting" as a warning for child abuse in a marauders fanfic will never not be funny to me

[poleodrops]

Another one

[poleodrops]

“I need to get out of there.”

[poleodrops]

By @eniidraws

[poleodrops]

regulus black, who grew up in a household where romantic love wasn’t a thing.

a brief character study

his parents had been cold to each other, never displaying any affection for him to grasp the concepts of what it may mean to love another person.

yet he couldn’t deny that there was a small panging in his chest when he came back to hogwarts after the holidays, to be surrounded by people in love.

don’t get him wrong, he was happy for them all, having long suffered evan and barty’s antics before they stopped dancing around each other and got together, chuckling softly between kisses and climbing into each other’s bed’s before cheekily tugging the curtains closed around them.

regulus only watched them quietly, knees drawn up to his chest on his own bed, as the longing in his heart to find its other hand grew stronger.

he’d found out sometime in 4th year that he liked boys, if his less-than-innocent thoughts about his own best mates had anything to say about it, yet he knew that it was a fruitless pursuit.

the house of black wanted heirs, not lovers.

regulus swallows and lays back, staring up at the ceiling, and lets himself imagine again.

imagine if- if- there was a chance, if he was allowed-

regulus inhales sharply at the lump that has suddenly formed in his throat.

he pictures being held gently, like he was made of glass.

he imagines soft hands cupping his face with a tenderness he’d never experienced before. they’d brush over the planes of his face, gently stroking his eye bags, like they were trying to memorise every dip and crevice of him.

regulus closes his eyes, a soft tear running down his temple.

soft lips would follow, pressing promises of love and protection into pale skin that has been long nourished by tears, whilst hands may travel down to the delicate curve of his jaw.

the thumb would now rest against the tender spot of his neck, where his pulse lies, thumping gently.

mirroring his heart, which beats excitedly, knowing its other half is close by.

regulus quietly muses how he knows all this so well, despite having experienced none of it himself, but he reminds himself again of the love that surrounds him here at hogwarts.

his friends, hell, even his own brother, sirius.

the brightest star, the heir,

the one that got away.

heirs, not lovers

even sirius found his missing piece, regulus recalls, having spied him murmuring quietly to that lupin boy, foreheads pressed together in a tender embrace as the shared a cigarette between them.

regulus sits up and reaches for his own pack of cigarettes, one he had stolen from barty, not that the latter ever suspected him.

he leaves his bed, finding himself wandering the halls of hogwarts until he found himself up in the astronomy tower.

above him, his namesake shone dimly, as if taunting him, reminding him of his place.

the spare, a well behaved child, the other one.

and again, he was reminded of his choices, or rather, lack of.

heirs, not lovers

sullenly looking back down and pointing his wand at the end of his cigarette, the unmistakable voice of a one, james potter startles him from his somber thoughts.

“black? I didn’t know you smoked,” he said, coming up beside regulus, an amused expression on his face. Regulus felt a faint feeling in his chest, that longing- that yearning stirringup again, as he fought to keep his composure.

heirs, not lovers,

heirs, not lovers,

heirs, not love-

“mind if I bum one off you?”

[poleodrops]

Mostly a fit study but also a contribution to white streak!regulus because I’m obsessed

[poleodrops]

shoutout to people who don't have a "before" the trauma.

shoutout to people who don't have any sweet or nostalgic childhood memories. to people who don't remember enough of their childhood to know what the before was like. to people who lost their innocence before they ever learned the word for it. to people whose pasts were too painful to keep around in any form. to people who only knew trauma, and don't have an idea of what life would be like without it. to people who can't long for "the better days" because there weren't any.

you deserve a good future. i hope it's there for you soon.

[poleodrops]

Summary: By the age of 13, Narcissa Black had developed a ED

Warnings: Eating Disorder, emotional abuse, The Black Family

a/n: something a little different today. Totally not projecting just a itty bitty bit.

Narcissa Black developed issues with food by the time she entered her second year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The pressures of her family had gotten to her, but it wasn't because of their constant scrutiny over appearance and hygiene. On the contrary, the youngest Black sister was often fawned over by relatives, who admired her long lashes, blonde hair, and flawless facial features. The sacred family was known for their beauty after all.

Really, the girl had nothing to dwell on when it came to her looks. She, along with her sister's and cousins had simply been blessed with an effortless, almost ethereal look.

Growing up the way she did, the young Slytherin quickly grasped the fact that she did not have much control over what was going to happen to her. Eventually a idea of something she could do crossed her mind, during an elaborately organized dinner hosted at the sisters' cousin's address.

And now, she walked through the beautiful halls of the school, hearing nothing but the taps of her smooth black shoes walking the deserted halls. Ironically, they were only deserted due to the fact that, down in the great hall, they were still serving desert. But the number scribbled on the crumpled parchment in her pocket was already almost 200 too high for Narcissa's liking,

so she walked.

To feel a little better.

To feel like she had a grip on her own life.

When school let out that summer, it took a while, but her parents eventually noticed how she seemed to eat a little less. They didn't utter a word. It was good for her anyway, it helped her figure, maybe their eldest would pick a thing or two as well.

After a couple years it spiralled.

She was doing the same thing. Eating a little less than she should, walking a little more than needed, and crumpled slips of paper with numbers (hopefully no higher than 1000) hidden in a box under her bed.

Her head got more stuck in it. She got harsher on herself. There were rules the 16 year old couldn’t even begin to explain to anyone, that she just had to follow.

When school let out that summer, things got real. Her parents wanted a little more from her. She'd always been a good daughter, but to really made sure they'd get what they wanted of her, Narcissa Black's eating disorder was used against her, only, in a different way on top of they way an ED typically would.

They threatened her with plates stacked full of food. Do as they say, or have a house elf sit with you for however long it takes to down two servings of a full meal. The poor girl was only used to one. Per day.

The cruel method tormented her. There was no way she would, or could stand up to it. Her mind could not bear the possibility of eating that much.

So no wonder Narcissa Black became Narcissa Malfoy by her 18th birthday. So no wonder Draco Lucius Malfoy was born so quickly after she walked the isle.

Because Narcissa Malfoy never had control.

[poleodrops]

I am not what was done to me. I am what I do with what was done to me

online ceramics