#godfather/godson moment

[hello-eden]

To Long Of A Wait

Tim hates being the one most well known for business on the civilian side.

Tim and Bruce are stuck at a dinner with Vladimir Masters. Tim has no idea who he's trying to impress; the sports team merch and Gothic Castle do not go well together. The two of them are there to find evidence of the money laundering and blackmail scheme that has all signs pointing to Masters.

The plan was originally for Bruce to keep him distracted and Tim to be able to search through the office but Vladimir Masters brought his heir with him. not much is known of his heir.

Daniel Nightingale is a 17-year-old transgender male who is Vladimir Masters' godson. He grew up in a small town with Amity Park That ended up going under lockdown because of some sort of sickness. 

Tim knows that the sickness is a cover story. It was some sort of Supernatural infestation but whether Daniel's parents were in the know or not he was sent away to live with his Godfather.

Daniel has been quite nice so far even if he looks very sick. Tim doesn't doubt that Vladimir is the one forcing him to go to this dinner.

Daniel waits only a few minutes after he is done before saying he is going to the bathroom. He is not even trying to conceal the fact he's trying to get as far as he can.

Tim waits 15 minutes before announcing he is going to the washroom too. Master's tries to offer for him to lead the way but Tim just says he remembers the tour and leaves.

—------------------------------------------

Tim turns into the hallway that has Vladimir Masters' work office. He's about to open the door when he hears the sound of throwing up. He waits there for a moment realizing that the bathroom Daniel is using is right beside the office. it is as far away from the dining room you can possibly go, which is probably why he used it. 

Tim hears the sound of washing hands and goes into the office. Behind him he locks the door and listens for Daniel to leave. He hears footsteps walk away.

Tim speeds quickly to the desk and looks over the files. He knows he doesn't have a lot of time especially if Daniel asks where he is. Tim doesn't find anything to concrete but he does find a couple of shady deals with an off branch of Cadmus and a few of the shader government departments. 

Tim takes a few photos and makes sure everything's in place before he walks out. He makes sure no one's in the hall and he walks back to the dining room. 

Tim goes on his phone making sure to hack into the security to corrupt the footage so that no one notices. they really should get better security Tim thinks before he hears talking. He hides behind the corner and hears is Daniel with who he assumes is a member of their staff. 

“I'm fine Trisha. it's just a little bit of morning sickness, I'm not dying” Tim can hear a little giggle at the end like they just told an inside joke

“ He shouldn't be making you go at all. You've had a very hard week." He hears a woman that he believes is Trisha start scolding Daniel.

 “It's not my first rodeo. I know what I'm doing. I have to last maybe another hour before I can get an excuse. I can last another hour.” Daniel tries to soothe Trisa.

 Tim is starting to think this is a whole lot more complicated

[lucyrose191]

12 YEARS LATER|S.O BLACK

Author’s note; will definitely be a part 2 to this.

Pairing; Young/POA!Sirius Black x Fem!wife!reader

Summary; 12 years after having your life ripped to pieces your godson walks into your home after returning home from Hogwarts and he’s invited someone else to come as well.

Warnings; Angst? Fluff.

HP/Marauders Master List

You had tried keeping him out in the beginning, your heart would not be able to bear the pain that a playboy could cause. You had told him so, there would be no chance of you two ever happening, never thinking his womanising personality would change, especially not for someone like you.

But if Sirius Black was anything he was unrelenting, he was determined and genuine in his advances and soon you found your heart fluttering with each sparkling smile and cheeky wink he sent your way.

Each touch would send a spark of electricity shooting through your veins and each lingering stare would burn into your skin, each a reminder of him even when you were apart.

You were sixteen when the pair of you became official, a third of your way through your sixth year of Hogwarts and the pair of you were wrapped up in coats and scarfs, adorned with a heating charm to protect you both from the cool February air at the top of the Astronomy tower.

Who knew Sirius Orion Black could be a romantic?

In that moment as he held you under the night sky, holding your hand as he raised them both into the sky, directing you to where his namesake lay, how could you have said anything but yes to him.

You had spent the best years of your life with him, moving in together at seventeen, engaged at eighteen, married at nineteen, godparents at twenty and well, twenty one had left you and your godson alone.

All Hallows’ Eve of 1981 is a day you never want to remember but it’s a day that remains as a permanent scar on your brain.

Your closest friends had lost their lives, their son had lost their parents, Remus had disappeared without a trace, Peter was dead and your Sirius had been taken to Azkaban.

You didn’t have time to grieve, you had a child to raise and offer him the best life you could and you did.

You watched him adjust to walking by himself, learn how to confess his wants and needs with more than just childish babbles and each day you’d witness as he showed more and more qualities of his parents.

Not only did he share most of his features with James Potter but he also shared his father’s cheeky personality and charisma.

However, the times where you saw Lily in him shined bright; when he’d offer to share any treat with you or when he’d climb into your bed to protect you from the monsters (you knew it was for his own comfort but it still melted your heart).

Now, that little boy was a young man and whilst it was becoming common for him to give you near heart attacks, you couldn’t be more proud of how intelligent and brave he was.

You truly saw his maturity earlier in the year when you’d had to sit him down and tell him the news of Sirius Black, that his godfather had escaped the prison he was put into for the betrayal of James and Lily Potter.

He had been hurt, you had seen that but he had handled it with grace and was more concerned about how you felt than the possible danger he was in, because you were the most important person in his life.

It was now the end of June, you had allowed Harry to make his own way home from Platform nine and three quarters upon his own request, believing he was now old enough to have that extra freedom.

It left you at home to make his favourite meal for when he gets home alone with his favourite snacks, movie and blankets set up in the living room for a movie night after dinner.

It was around five in the evening when you heard the front door being thrown open followed by the dumping of his bags and trunk being dumped on the floor.

Then heavy footsteps pounded through the hallway, shortly followed by your vision being clouded by a mess of jet black hair as Harry launched himself into your arms.

"Merlin, Harry! You’re going to break one of my ribs if you keep growing," you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him, he was growing far too quickly for your liking.

"I had the best year ever, Y/N!" He told you as he pulled out of your arms. "I think I passed all of my tests except divination but that’s a load of rubbish anyways, Hogsmeade was so much fun and Professor Lupin was actually a good teacher- oh, he told me to tell you he misses you by the way and that he’s sorry for leaving."

You smiled tightly, Harry had told you in his first letter about ‘Professor Lupin’ and whilst you were glad he had a good teacher, it was hard to ignore the pain that came with his name, he had left you and Harry alone in a time where you should’ve been able to rely on each other, you weren’t ready to see him or speak to him again.

"I’m glad you had a good year, Harry," you replied sincerely, turning back to watch the food as he continued speaking.

"Oh, and I met Sirius Black! He’s innocent so don’t worry about it, he’s actually amazing!"

You whipped your head around as the colour drained from your face. "You what?"

Harry couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he nodded "you’ll never believe it, I didn’t believe it in the beginning either but Sirius wasn’t mum and dad’s secret keeper, it was Peter Pettigrew that was secretly working for Voldemort and after my parents were murdered Sirius went to confront him but Pettigrew framed him, chopped off his finger and turned into a rat; can you believe he’s an Animagus!?"

He didn’t seem to realise how you weren’t matching his enthusiasm or how pale you’d gotten.

"Did you know Sirius could turn into a dog?"

"Harry…" you ignored his question. "You’ve seen Sirius? You’ve spoken to him?"

"Yeah!" He replied enthusiastically, not paying attention to the tone of your voice. "I wanted to talk to you about that actually, can he come and stay with us? I assumed it would be okay because the two of you are married and I thought we could be a proper family then."

You couldn’t even process what he was saying, it was as though you had completely disassociated, how could you even fathom seeing Sirius again?

The man you had loved and married all of those years ago, you hadn’t seen him in twelve years, you were two completely different people right now. He had been through unfathomable hell, hell that you couldn’t even begun to imagine and you had changed beyond belief, for Harry to believe you could just start over and pretend nothing happened was ridiculous.

And if Sirius believed that too then he was completely mad if not plain stupid.

A scratching at the door drew both your’s and Harry’s attention and the way his eyes lit up made you feel sick to your stomach. "Harry," you spoke faintly, "what is that?"

Harry titled his head at you curiously, "Well I told him where we lived so he could come and visit me, he was glad you hadn’t moved and well he wanted to see you as well."

You slowly shook your head, feeling completely overwhelmed at everything that had just been shot at you in such a small amount of time. "No no no no no, he can’t be here," you muttered frantically.

"What do you mean?" Your godson asked dumbly.

"I mean that he can’t just show up here out of the blue with absolutely no warning, we can’t just pretend that the past twelve years haven’t happened, Harry. It doesn’t work like that. We’ve both changed and we aren’t going to go back to being husband and wife. I’m happy you have your godfather back, Harry, I truly am but you need to give me some warning for this."

Harry slumped in his seat at the kitchen table. "What, so I tell him to leave? We have so much to catch up on."

The disappointed look on his face made your heart break, you had always struggled saying no to him and had probably spoilt him more than you should have but knowing that the man you had loved more than anything was on the opposite side of the door filled you with a sense of dread.

But how could you take this away from him?

You couldn’t, it was as simple as that.

You’d face your husband for the first time in over a decade if that made Harry happy because that’s all you had lived for the past twelve years, making your godson happy.

"Go and open the door," you regretfully nodded your head towards the front door, joy built up in Harry’s face as he jumped up and rushed for the front door whilst you simply stood alone in the kitchen waiting for your past to come and hit you in the face.

What were you even going to say to him?

[disillusioneddanny]

Enchanted to Meet You

Danny forced a smile as Vlad clasped a hand over Danny’s shoulder and introduced the twenty-year-old as his ward to the older couple in front of him.

It had been three months since the death of Danny’s parents and since Vlad had taken him in. Sure, Danny was in his twenties, but he had still been living at home, and had still been working with his parents for them to better understand him and who he was as Phantom. Things had been going well until the GAV malfunctioned and exploded with the two in it. Suddenly, living in Fenton Works was far too stifling, too lonely and quiet. 

Vlad had decided to step in at that time and take Danny in. He saw the pain in Danny’s eyes after the funeral and offered his home. In that time, they had learned to understand one another. Things were still stiff and stilted between the two but it was getting better, they were understanding one another in ways that they hadn’t before. Not only that but Vlad was trying, he was trying to be a support for Danny and honestly, that’s what he needed. 

Jazz had thrown herself into her work, had focused on classes, and isolated herself, leaving Danny alone and floundering, not knowing how to handle his parents' deaths. Clockwork had been the one to push Danny into staying with Vlad and had said that this timeline was different than the last time Danny was taken in by Vlad. So he had agreed. 

But, his Godfather had been forcing him to be more social than Danny had ever been in his life. The only time Danny had really gotten time for himself was in his dreams when he would finally see his soulmate each night. 

Soulmate dreams were a taunting hell if he was going to be completely honest, Fate had to have been a sick bitch for giving people soulmate dreams. The dreams gave soulmates the chance to talk to one another, spend time together, and get to know one another. The only problem with the dreams was that upon waking up, a person never remembered the name of their soulmate or where they lived.

Danny had taken to calling his soul mate Birdie in the confines of his mind. He couldn’t remember why he called him that, but it felt right, felt important. 

“Daniel, why don’t you grab some refreshments?” Vlad asked, looking down at Danny who tore his eyes away from the ground to glance up at his godfather. He swallowed and nodded his head before he looked at the couple in front of them and forced a small smile. 

“It was nice to meet you both,” Danny said, his voice still didn’t feel like his own. The couple gave him a small smile and he listened as he walked away. 

“It’s so sweet of you Vlad to take him in,” the woman said kindly. “I heard what happened to his parents, so devastating.”

“Yes, well he is my godson, becoming a legal adult does not change anything and he needed someone to rely on. I was happy to take him in,” Vlad said honestly. Danny rolled his eyes as the couple tittered and cooed over Vlad for being such a good godfather. 

Danny stalked towards the refreshments table and sighed to himself. He hated things like this. The forcing laughter, faking smiles. Same old tired, lonely place. The only difference was that this was a gala in Gotham rather than an empty mansion in Wisconsin. 

Here was full of walls of insincerity, shifting eyes, and vacancy. Everyone here was desperate to be seen as something they weren’t. They were desperate to impress everyone, hell, even Vlad was desperate for people to see him as more important. He wanted to be seen as on the same level as Bruce Wayne of all people which if he was going to be honest was impossible. 

Danny grabbed a glass of punch and took a sip when he felt eyes on him and glanced up, meeting the gaze of someone who felt far too familiar. It was like everything vanished the moment he saw his face and Danny’s breath caught in his chest. 

The halfa watched as the man stepped forward. His eyes whispered, “Have we met?”

He took in the silhouette of the man as he started to cross his way towards Danny. His hair was a dark, raven black, had piercing blue eyes and a beautiful chiseled jaw, a small smile graced his face and had Danny nearly tripping over himself as he set down his drink and met the man in the middle of the ballroom. 

“Ghostie?” The man whispered as the two made their way to one another. 

A small smile quirked up on Danny’s lips. “Birdie?” He asked in response and the man let out a soft laugh, running his fingers through his hair. 

“What is a guy like you doin’ in a place like this?” He asked, pulling Danny’s hand in his. 

“Oh you know, evil Godfather who wants to force me to socialize,” he said softly. Birdie frowned at that, his eyebrows furrowing in a way that Danny had seen him do millions of times in his dreams. 

“It’s only been three months,” Birdie whispered.

Danny gave him a forced smile and shrugged his shoulders/ “What about you? It’s only been two months since you know?”

He had remembered the dream clearly. Danny had appeared in their dream, they were sitting upon the shore of a lake, Birdie–Dick’s legs had been pulled up to his chest as he stared out at the water, and a tear ran down his cheek. Danny knew immediately that something was wrong, something had happened and he didn’t think it was something he would be able to fix or help with. 

“Jason died,” he whispered, resting his head on Danny’s shoulder. “I didn’t save him.”

“I’m so sorry,” Danny had said, wrapping his arms around Dick’s waist and holding him close to him as he sobbed. And now two months later he was finally getting to see his love in the flesh. 

“I know,” Dick whispered, giving Danny a sad smile. “But I told Bruce I needed to get out and try. He’s a wreck, still but  I’m hoping this would be a nice distraction for both of us. Would you like to dance, Ghostie?”

Danny smiled. “You can call me Danny,” he said, taking Dick’s hand and allowing the older man to pull him onto the dancefloor. 

“Dick,” he said and Danny laughed and rested his arms atop Dick’s shoulders. 

“Unfortunate,” he teased, the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly. “I don’t know about you but this is the best gala I have ever been to,” Danny said softly as Dick spun him around the dance floor carefully. 

“Been to a lot of galas, have you?” Dick asked, his blue eyes sparkling. Danny laughed, throwing his head back as he did. The playful conversation started at that point, Danny managed to counter all of Dick’s quick remarks with his own. It was reminiscent of passing notes in secrecy. Nothing else mattered in that moment. The gala faded away to the background, none of that mattered moment, not the people, not none of it did, not when Danny had Dick in his arms in real-time. He didn’t even care that he could feel Vlad’s curious gaze on them. 

He was far too enchanted with Dick to even care. 

The night was sparkling and Danny didn’t want to let him go. He was wonderstruck, blushing more than he had ever done before.  He couldn’t help but wonder if Dick knew just how enchanted Danny was. 

The two danced through the ballroom for the rest of the night, not realizing that all eyes were on them. How could they when they only had eyes for one another? Danny smiled as Dick spun him with one arm and dipped him low, his lips brushing along Danny’s for just a moment. 

“This is everything I have ever dreamed of,” DIck whispered and Danny let out a soft chuckle. 

“ Lies,” he accused in a teasing tone. “I was there, you never dreamed about us dancing.”

Dick let out a hum and pulled Danny back to his chest. “You’re right, I think our dreams were full of flying instead,” he said, the question in his voice despite the fact that Danny had never voiced it. The unspoken question hung between the two of them and Danny knew what he was asking. Was Phantom real? Just like Danny wondered if Nightwing was real. 

“Maybe I can sneak out of my hotel room tonight, we can fly together. You’ve boasted about your own talents for a while now. Maybe it’s time I get to see them in action,” Danny whispered. 

A blinding smile filled Dick’s face and he rested his chin on Danny’s shoulder. “I need you to know just how much I appreciate you,” he whispered in Danny’s ear. “You’re the only thing that has kept me sane, that has kept me normal and, Danny you’re amazing.”

Danny felt something lodge in his throat at that. How could he get Dick to understand that he had saved Danny in the same way? That Dick’s unflappable love and support had been the only reason Danny hadn’t gone to hide out in the Ghost Zone for the rest of time? The hope of getting to meet his wonderful Birdie one day was enough to keep him going when everything else felt like it was falling apart.  Dick had been the one to hold him each night and keep Danny from falling apart, had been there to stitch up the broken pieces and listen to Danny sob. And then Danny had turned around and done the same for him when Jason had died. They had become the support that they each so desperately needed when no one else could provide it for them.

Danny scoffed and brushed a strand of hair out of Dick’s face as he smiled at the man. “You’re just saying that,” he whispered. 

Dick just laughed and shook his head before he twirled Danny around once again. 

It was two AM and Danny was lying atop the roof of Wayne Enterprises, his hand wrapped around that of a gloved hand that belonged to Nightwing as they stared up at the ceiling. 

“Phantom,” Dick whispered, staring up at the sky. 

“Nightwing,” Danny whispered back, racing the stars with his eyes, memorizing the barely visible constellations that hung in the cloudy sky of Gotham City.

“Who do you love?” He asked quietly. Danny pulled his eyes away from the stars when he heard the crack in his soulmate’s voice. 

“Isn’t that obvious?” He asked quietly, cupping DIck’s face in his hand and wiping the tear that traveled down the vigilante’s cheek. “It’s you, Birdie. How could it be anyone else?” 

If he remembered correctly, his love didn’t hear those words as often as Danny would have liked. Not from his adoptive father, not from anyone in his family. So, Danny would have to mitigate that. So this was Danny now praying to anyone who would listen that this was the very first page, not where the storyline would end. 

“I have to go soon,” Danny said softly. “And so do you, you have patrols.”

Dick frowned. “When do you leave?” He whispered. 

“Tomorrow morning we fly back to Wisconsin,” he said with a sigh. A smile slowly grew along his face, though as he stared at his soulmate. “But, now that I know where you live, you’re just a flight away from me. And as you saw tonight, I can fly pretty fast.”

Dick let out a soft laugh. “Well, my thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again,” he said quietly, memorizing the freckles upon Danny’s face. 

Danny felt his heart lurch and decided to say the words he had back as he was leaving far too soon. “I was enchanted to meet you, Birdie,” he said quietly as they sat up and looked at one another.

Dick slowly leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Danny’s lips. “I love you,” he murmured and a blush covered Danny’s face. And he would never admit it, but the blush lasted all the way home. And Danny knew that he would forever wonder if Dick just knew how flawless their first real night had been together, that Danny had been so wonderstruck that he danced around his bedroom all alone, wondering if Dick knew that Danny was so utterly enchanted to meet him outside of his dreams. 

[naughtystiel]

DEANCAS AU FIC REC MASTERPOST II

Here's another list of fics that I've read! They're all amazing, but the first two? They hold a special place in my heart because of how tender they are. If you decide to read them - prepare for an emotional rollercoaster.

You can check out the previous fic rec list here.

Happy reading! ♡

Restless wanderer

Just west of the town Porthgwarra, Cornwall, Robert Singer’s farm lies, a mess of ravaged land gaping out onto a fretting sea. Robert's orphaned godson, Dean Winchester, is named sole beneficiary of the farm - and though he hasn't seen his godfather in fifteen years, he travels across the Atlantic with his brother and half brother to care for Singer in his old age and tend to the farm. All of them hope to leave behind the squalor and famine of their old life.

What Dean meets is the bird-infested home of a widowed eccentric, and a new shepherd whom he can neither stand nor see any use for - stoic, rude and conceited, Dean plans to fire the mysterious and wandering Mr Novak the moment he comes into legal possession of the farm. But upon the shepherd's offer to teach him the trade, in anticipation of Dean replacing the man himself, Dean finds in the wild and roaming man a steadiness and certainty his own life has never yet contained. And one day Dean will have to ask, not tell, the shepherd to stay.

Down by the water

AU, set in 1853 — When Castiel loses everything dear to him due to a botched river crossing, including his supplies, livestock, covered wagon, and even his wife, he has no where to turn, no way to survive stranded in the middle of his journey. That is, until he meets Dean Winchester, who offers him a life saving deal: in exchange for help on his farm, Dean offers to provide much needed room and board. But how will this decision affect Castiel as he moves through his grief, and discovers feelings he never would have expected? Fighting with injury, pain, grief, and even the threat of death, Dean and Castiel find themselves in the one place they would have never expected: down by the water, struggling to accept their unforeseen love.

Dark side of the moon

Five months into his six month mission, an accident leaves Flight Engineer Dean Winchester stranded on the moon. It comes down to a man he has never met to bring him home.

Angel in the iron mask

Finally free of his actual shackles, Castiel finds himself in a situation a lot worse than being locked in the dungeon with an iron mask to conceal his face. The intrigues of the court will make his head ache, but it would all be worth it if he could just find a way to save the omega that had been enslaved to him.

Protect and serve

Sam Winchester is America's newest sweetheart. An in-demand actor and all around Boy Next Door. However, with his fame comes the need for protection. And Sam only trusts his older brother, and former beat cop, Dean, plus his best friend, Castiel Novak, to keep him safe. However, Castiel and Dean share not only a desire to keep Sam safe, but also a lot of friction between them. In an attempt to smooth the edges, Sam pleads with them to find a way to make things work. Castiel thinks Dean needs discipline. Dean thinks Castiel needs to lighten up. Together, they discover a lot more about each other than anticipated.

Playing with fire

When two best friends foray into a supposedly no-strings sexual relationship, someone is bound to catch feelings, someone is bound to fuck up, and someone is bound to beg for forgiveness; because that’s the recipe for a romantic comedy.

But life is not a romantic comedy, no matter how much Dean Winchester secretly wishes it was.

Instead, we present: Boy finds out boy, who has been his best friend for over twenty years, is secretly a Dom. Boy then sorta tricks boy into taking him on as his new sub. Boy discovers a side of himself he never knew existed. Boy is in way over his head.

Quarantension

In which Dean and Cas weather quarantine together like any Good Friends would — by developing outstanding skills in self-deception and providing all the casual affection and strictly platonic* orgasms the other could possibly need to make it through.**

 

*Really not platonic

**Spoiler: They need a lot.

Expectations

For centuries, the Winchester princes have taken omegas from the northern town of New Eden to bear the royal heirs before exiling them to the countryside - a punishment for a past dispute caused by the town's strict beliefs. When Prince John marries Lady Mary of Campbell and puts a Queen on the throne, however, most people assume the tradition has been set aside.

Thus, it's a complete surprise to Dean when he's sent to New Eden to retrieve the girl they've arranged for.

Cas, as a male omega in backward New Eden, has been ostracized and condemned by his town since he presented. To make matters worse? His sister is being given away to the crown prince of Winchester, never to return.

But when the morning before the prince's arrival dawns and Anna is nowhere to be found, the town's council decides there’s only one thing for it:

They’ll simply have to give him Cas instead.

It's the end of the world (as we know it)

The year is 1996, and Dean’s stuck in Kankakee, Illinois while Dad’s on a long-haul hunt. It’s not too bad. He’s even got a friend, now—even if Cas is a weird, gawky loner kid who gets way too intense about his sci-fi novels and doesn’t know how to stop staring. Just business as usual.

Until his dad comes back, and it isn’t.

The year is 2011, and the shadows known as ‘angels’ and ‘demons’ are falling from cracks in the sky, raining death, destruction, and monsters where they pass. When the Joint Task Force asks for their help in stopping the end of the world—John Winchester, his sons, and a ragtag band of hunters—well, that’s just business as usual, too.

Until Dean meets the cold blue eyes of their team liaison—Dr. Castiel Novak.

The meaning on my skin

Castiel Novak never wanted to be a Dominant. Living with the mark on his skin that designates him as one has haunted him every day of his life, and he goes to great lengths to avoid the part of his biology that he hates. When he makes the decision to get a tattoo with the intent of hiding his mark away, he meets Dean Winchester: tattoo artist and confident submissive.

Dean turns Castiel’s world upside down and subverts every expectation Castiel ever had about himself and his designation. Will Dean be able to teach him how to be comfortable in his own skin?

Roll with it

For two years, Dean’s been slaving away beneath his boss – many label him a secretary, but he fucking hates that and feels like it only applies to someone wearing a pencil skirt, so he insists on his title of Executive Assistant. And for what? In the vain hope that one day he’ll manage to become an editor for Sandover Publishing, and that he’ll see the manuscript that he’s slaved over since college finally realized in print.

That’s the dream, anyway.

Right now, he’s fucking late.

Dean wants to be an editor. Castiel just wants to stay in the country.

‘The Proposal’ – as you’ve never seen it before.

Stay in my arms (if you dare)

Grammy award-winning singer/actor Dean Winchester is on top of the world. His latest role has him tipped for an Oscar nomination and his life is damn good, thank you very much. That all comes crashing down after a series of death threats forces his manager, Bobby Singer, to hire a bodyguard. Bobby knows just the man for the job. Castiel Krushnic, former CIA field agent and the only person Bobby would trust to protect Dean.

Tensions are high and personalities clash from the first meeting, with Dean unwilling to change his lifestyle and Cas just wanting to do the job in peace. A series of events turns the pair into reluctant friends while both try to ignore their growing attraction for each other.

Dream house

Castiel Shurley and his best friend Dorothy Baum have decided to move in together. After his aunt assumes they are dating, she offers them money for the house, but only if they apply for a famous reality show ‘Dream House’. Since they could use the money and he doesn’t want to come out to his aunt, Castiel and Dorothy agree to fake date for the show. But things go wrong when Dorothy falls in love with the show’s producer and Castiel starts to develop feelings for one of the hosts.

Dean Winchester is a co-host of ‘Dream House’, along with his brother. Sam, being a realtor, finds a fixer-upper and Dean turns it into a perfect house for their clients. Even though he has what most people only dream about, Dean is incredibly lonely. He had bad experiences with relationships in the past and he doesn’t think he will ever meet anyone who can earn his trust. Until he meets Castiel.

I'll be good

Dean has always been the good guy. He made the hard decisions and rose to the occasion whenever his family needed him. He became a parent way too soon after the deaths of John and Mary Winchester along with Sam’s big oops moment. Resettling his entire life to Beaufort, NC for the sake of those he loves the most.

Now at 25 an opportunity to finally be good to himself has been delivered in the form of one gorgeous Castiel Novak. The new arrival to town is the worst driver Dean has ever seen. As the eldest Winchester strives to overcome several bumps along the road of life can he also help Cas to steer towards a happily ever after with him or will Novak’s turbulent past cause them to crash and burn?

In other words a BDSM love story.

Shatter me

Dean Winchester started his day in seven easy steps.

Step one: Survive attack from a giant drool monster

Step two: Shower and shave

Step three: Suck down a cup of coffee while walking the drool monster to her favorite tree

Step four: Feed and water the drool monster

Step five: Have a balanced breakfast of microwaved egos, six medications, and two more cups of coffee

Step six: Check his email and schedule for the day

Step seven: Pack the pup and himself a hearty lunch and leave for work

In none of these steps did it say: meet your soul mate, hate them on sight and cause bodily harm…. and yet.

Crashing in

Castiel Novak is convinced he’s the last unwillingly single person in Lupine Cove. Even Gabriel, his perpetual bachelor brother, has found love. It’s probably because Cas leads the most boring life in existence. He’s a gay man living in a rented, one-room cottage in the same small coastal town he grew up in, just getting by as the owner of the same convenience store he was practically raised in. The most excitement he gets is chatting with the locals or maybe, if he’s unlucky, oversleeping and rushing to work. So when a baby is left at the Safe Haven drop-off at the local fire station, he takes the opportunity to step in for the child temporarily, at least until suitable parents, plural, can be found.

Life certainly gets more interesting.

And it gets even more interesting when a handsome man comes crashing—literally—into his life.

Partnered

Dean didn't think that his life as a detective could get much worse after Castiel was promoted to lieutenant.

Castiel was a stickler for the rules, had no sense of humour, and never seemed to give Dean a break, even though they used to be partners.

But then, despite all of their questionable history, the two are asked to go undercover on a case in the wealthy suburbs of California. . . as a married couple.

Lead by your beating heart

After a night of celebrating (heavy drinking) with his brother surgical intern Dean Winchester discovers that his resident, talented Cardio surgeon Castiel Novak, is...well a huge douche bag...kind of hot but still a huge douche bag. A douche bag that he's stuck with for the rest of the year, that's if he survives the year without Castiel killing him and making it look like an accident. So why is it that an easy friendship forms between the two men that swiftly becomes something Dean never expected to find when he moved to Chicago.

Bold will hold

All Dean Winchester wants is to open his own tattoo shop, which is why he signs up for Tattoo Gods, a tattooing reality show with a $100,000 grand prize. He also wants to avoid making an ass of himself on national TV, and he definitely wants to avoid falling for Cas Novak, another artist who’s not only his direct competitor, but someone he’s had an unspoken rivalry with since before he started apprenticing, and is just as ridiculously talented as he is stunning (and, as Dean comes to find out, kind and funny and passionate and sincere). Is that too much to ask?

Apparently, yes. Yes, it is.

Breathing into you

‘Beware the deep sea, that’s where the monsters come from.’ Dean had heard these words since birth, his father’s warnings shaping him into the man he is today.

That’s not the root of Dean’s hatred for merpeople, though. Twenty years after the day tragedy had touched the Winchesters’ lives forever as well as the end of the Great War between humans and mer, Dean is still haunted by that moment. But loving the sea is just as much a part of him as the dread for the merfolk, so when he isn’t working at the local bar, he is there, underwater, immersed in the vast blue his mother used to speak of in her bedtime stories.

Dean knows, however, that the sea can be as ruthless as it is soothing. When he is caught in the middle of a storm and faces the anger of the waves, the mysterious appearance of a stranger with blue eyes as clear as the waters Dean loves losing himself in forces Dean to question the truth behind his father’s old mantra.

Hot water

Castiel hated public showers.

In which Castiel is forced to use the company shower after hours and ends up doing unspeakable things he never thought himself capable of...

AU-fic containing mystery attractions and a lot of hot water.

I can make you scared

So this is how it goes. Best day of Dean Winchester’s life. Loses his job, finds out he’s been cheated on, gets dumped, all in the course of one fucked up Thursday. Drinking himself into oblivion is the natural response, right? A chance encounter in a dingy dive bar gives Dean a new friend who sees his problems and likes him anyway. Now, as Dean struggles to pick up the pieces of his life, Castiel just might help him put them back together in a way he never expected.

Fear of falling (apart)

In a world where D/s relationships are the norm and Chicago is caught up in a three-way mob war, Russian mob boss Castiel Krushnic makes John Winchester an offer he can't refuse: one that will make Dean Winchester his own.

Cuffed to an angel

Dean Winchester has a lot going for him: he's beloved by his students, he's finished writing his first book, and he's living comfortably in New York City. The only problem is... he's single. That wouldn't bother him much if his family wouldn't be visiting for the holidays. With cuffing season over, Dean has to face his family alone... or will he?

Castiel DiAngelo is a simple detective who hasn't really celebrated Christmas in over 9 years, holidays and family being a sore spot for him. But after taking Dean up on an offer, he finds that you can't really avoid the holidays.

Will these two be able to pull off a seminal holiday trope? Or will certain developments get in the way...

(don't) stop texting me

Castiel Novak is relatively happy living his solitary life as a Starbucks Barista. He lives alone with a cat named Hamburger, and he has one (1) emotional support friend, Gabriel.

Unfortunately, he is plagued by the fact that some guy (see: a random hot dude named 'Dean') is giving out Castiel's phone number as his own. And he's been doing it for months.

So, of course, when Castiel's at work and a hot stranger gives him his own phone number for the Starbucks Rewards Program... well... it doesn't go well.

Sweet boy

NOTE - nothing sexual happens between them until Dean's 18

Dean's sixteen when he meets John's well-to-do boss, Castiel Novak, and he's quick to develop a crush during a time where he's only begun to discover his preferences. He dates the beautiful Lisa and practically raises his younger brother Sam, because it's what John expects. But Castiel appears to see Dean in a way no one else does, and despite him knowing there's no way anything can happen between them, he relishes in the idea that Castiel cares at all for his well-being.

Between mounting pressures from a teenage Sam that no longer wants a caretaker, John's nudging for Dean to follow a career path he doesn't want, and a mysterious check for the exact amount of one semester at the school Dean had been eyeing, Dean finds himself reconnecting with Castiel.

And Castiel has a very interesting proposition for him.

Down time

It’s been said that Dean Winchester is a bit uptight but in his opinion being focused on producing quality work is nothing to be ashamed of. He would grudgingly admit he tends to get too worried about his work and schedule and that it’s beginning to wear him down. In a fit of work induced exhaustion, he decides to indulge in a deeply buried desire of his…

[hpdabbles]

The Empty Bottle

Harry Potter can say with certainty that he has seen a lot in his life, but he knows that he has not seen everything. In fact, he wonders how much he missed in the war he ended and how many lives he dismissed and failed to witness. There were times when the echoes of the war would play in his mind, catching him off guard, not only by the bad but by the good that slipped through his fingers while he struggled.

It would take him a minute to remember that it was all over. He had left the cupboard behind in the nightmares of his childhood; Tom Riddle lay dead, nothing more than ash in the wind, and he mourned those he lost but lived for those he kept safe.

He did everything he could to uphold the morals and expectations of a true Gryffindor. Not in some misguided ideal of house rivalry- he had outground such foolishness- but to honor the memory of those who adore the house.

He did it for his parents, godfather, werewolf uncle, grandfatherly headmaster, and mischievous brother-in-law. They were the ones who made him proud to wear his red tie and cheer for lions.

But he also met people who made him proud of the other three colors. He thought about the clever potion master whose bravery made him reconsider the evil of Slytherin. He thought about the woman who ran away from her family to be with the man she loved and now raised her godson due to losing both her husband and daughter. He thought of the mother who lied to protect him and her son.

He thought of the whimsical, loving girl who smiled even when harassed by bullies who did not bother to get to know her before passing judgment. He thought of a cheerful and kind boy who merely wanted to represent his school and life cut for being in the wrong place and time.

He thought of the different colored ties that decorated the floor after the fallen fifty bodies were gathered in the grand hall.

Sometimes, while taking breaks from Auror training, he would ponder what life would have been like to not be a Gryffindor. Would that have changed anything? Or would it all have been the same since he was Harry Potter and a prophecy had hung over his head long before his birth would decide that for him?

It was useless to focus on the What-ifs. He knew this. He spent his whole life wondering- what if my parents were alive?- and that was long before he knew of magic. There was nothing to gain from pondering them for too long.

Nothing at all.

He had a life to live—one that so many died to ensure he would experience. He would not let their sacrifice be in vain. Harry spent years trying to find peace with himself, to smile at family gatherings, to stop and watch the leaves fall off the trees, to feel the sun rest on his skin, and to simply breathe.

He learned to compliment his reflections and started to believe them for the first time in his life. He learned to stop and listen—truly listen—when asking someone about their day. He learned to lower his walls, to speak about his hardships so that the youth who gawked at him in the streets learned it was okay to ask for help.

Even heroes needed moments of weakness.

He married the woman who knew when his eyes turned dark with unknown horrors but still held his face in her warm palms to ground him. They built a home together where they used to hide from killers, twisting the rooms until only warmth reminded them.

She brought three wonderful buddles of joy for him, and sometimes, when he would sit outside, listening to the rain mixed with his children's laughter, Harry knew that if his story ended now, it would be a happy one.

The hero had done his duty, and now he rested. He had a really long life, but he was young in age, and sometimes Harry swore it was unfair. Yet other times, he felt content with the simple, quiet life. He was alive, but he would welcome death, as he did the day he marched into the forest toward Riddle with no regrets.

This is why, the day he woke to find a floating black dog made of smoke above his head, he only had a moment to reach out and gently kiss Ginny's face one last time before the Grim took its claim.

It was gentle and peaceful in the end, even as the dog gently bit down on his neck and carried his soul. He felt no pain, just relief—like gentle rain on his skin on a spring morning and the sense of complete and utter freedom. The Grim pulled his bodiless soul until they were back at the King Cross, where Harry reformed. This time, there was no crying baby, twinkling eyes, fear, or confusion.

Just a man walking alongside a dog, hand resting on the canine head as it leads him to a train. He knows he is to board, and with one finally pat on the Grim's head, he does so.

Harry finds a comfortable sit in first cart, sliding into the plush cushions with a sign. He stares out the window, watching the mist roll by as the train departs. The Grim is happily watching him go, black tail wagging, and Harry can't help but wave at it as the rattling of the tracks gains volume the faster the speed picks up.

For a moment, there is nothing to view. A part of Harry always assumed that the mist would clear once he left King Cross', breaking way into a beautiful foreign landscape like the once fantasies of a boy stuck in a cupboard used to dream about.

He chuckles at his assumptions, for what man can claim to understand death? He leans back into his seat, closing his eyes. There is a moment when he wonders how Ginny and his children will handle his death. It saddens him to know that they will suffer for his loss, but it was Harry's time.

James would start Hogwarts in only three months. He prays his eldest enjoys his time there, even with his father's death so fresh. Harry knows Hermione and Ron will ensure that Ginny gets help to take their son to the train and will be there for his tears just as they had been when Harry was James' age

His death was natural, he went in his sleep, and he was content with it. He hopes they will live on just as he had when he lost those he loved.

Harry's eyes snap open at the sound of a knock on the door of his compartment. Through the small window, he can barely make out the head of a small boy, nervously peaking up at him as though he was standing on his tiptoes to see. It reminds him of Albus whenever his son wanted Harry to read him a bedtime story but was too shy to ask, and it causes a smile to twitch onto his face.

"Come in," He calls, watching the child scramble to open the door. He nearly reels back at the sight of someone so young on this death train before he remembers that death knows no age limit.

The boy could be no older than nine- just like his Albus- and is dressed in a muggle hospital gown. His cheeks are hollow, his skin is unhealthy and pale, and the specific way he carries himself indicates weakness. Seeing as Harry is still wearing his pajamas, he can guess the boy passed in the hospital, likely due to illness.

"Hi, mister. Do you know where we are?" the child asks, his voice rising in an American accent. Harry isn't sure about the region, but he suspects it is somewhere south.

Harry smiles, patting the seat next to him. Without hesitation, the boy climbs up and sits down with a burst of energy that surprises him. "Yes. We're on a train heading to the Beyond."

"We aren't in a train." The boy giggles, putting the window that Harry is leaning on. "We're on a boat! What's the Beyond?"

Briefly, Harry wonders if everyone sees something different when coming to their deaths, but he doesn't correct the young boy. "You're right. Sorry, I was being silly. The Beyond is a surprise for everyone. We know when we get there."

"Is my momma there?" the boy asks with wide, sparkling eyes. I want to tell her I don't feel sick anymore!"

Harry's smile falters for a second. He is unsure if he should explain that they had died to someone so young, but something on his face must have given him away. The boy's dim, and he looks back to the window, watching the mist that Harry sees before he seems to shrink in on himself.

"Oh, I passed away. Momma is going to cry." He hunches his shoulders, and Harry suddenly wants to comfort him. Without much thought, he places a arm around the child's shoulders, bringing him into a hug that has the young child melting into him.

They stay like that for a moment; the only sound is the soft sniffs of the child who mourns his short life and the man who feels he lived long enough. Eventually, the child falls asleep, using Harry's lap as a pillow, small tears covering his face.

He wonders for the child's name as they travel, and a voice whispers into his head.

Hadrian Evans.

Strangely, he felt like he had known that his entire life.

Time moves on, and Harry loses count of it, watching hills of endless mist roll by. Hadrian stays by his side the entire time, sleeping peacefully and clutching his sleeve.

A second knock is made at his door a while later, which could have been minutes or hours. Harry turns to find a man wearing a train uniform waving at him. He's pushing the snack trolly, but rather than sweets and treats, there are various bottles.

"Good day," the man says, in Hadrian's accent. "It's time to choose. Can you wake up the kiddo?"

Harry wants to tell him no since Hadrian seems content with slumber, but something tells him not to question the stranger. He gently shakes Hadrian's shoulder, whispering, "Hadrian, love, time to get up."

The boy's face scrunches up before tiny blue eyes blink open. He makes a confused face at Harry, rubbing at his face, and the wizard's heart melts. He feels oddly parental towards the boy, in the same sense of love he would for his own children.

Harry thinks he would adopt him without a second thought if they had been alive.

The trolly man smiles wider, gesturing to his bottles as the boy finally notices him. Hadrian instantly clings to Harry's arm, seeking comfort from the wizard. "No need for that kiddo. Nothing to be afraid of. I'm just here to help you lads choose."

"Choose what?" Harry asks watching the man push in the trolly, the bottles clinking against each other. He notices that they resemble potions with various shapes and colors, but there are no labels. He isn't what any of them do.

"That's the fun part. You will know once you pick. You can just grab the three ones that seem best to you. Don't think too much-trust your gut." Trolly man chirps and something about his hand motions seems familiar in a way that scratches Harry's brain. Has he met him before?

Harry hesitates, but Hadrian reaches out for the long plum bottle that shimmers when he pulls it towards him. The bottle is almost as big as the boy's torso.

Hadrian giggles as it continues to shimmer and glow, likely never seen magic before. For some reason, Harry knows in his bones that Hadrian was born a muggle.

Then, the boy grabs a small blue bottle that is see-through enough to see the gold liquid inside. Finally, he picks up an empty bottle with a giggle.

The trolly man nods. "Good health. Good Wealth and Second Chance. Wonderful choices, Mr. Evans. Mr. Potter, if you please?"

Harry looks at all the bottles, ranking his eyes over the tall ones, the small ones, the shining ones, the glowing ones, and the ugly ones. Nothing really calls out to him because he hears his wife's lectures about not touching potions, and he does not know the effect of echoing in his mind.

Not only that, but none of them speak to him. None of them makes him want to reach out and grasp. That's not right. Deep in his soul, he knows he should want to grab three of the bottles, but he can't find out why.

He stares at the bottles, repeatedly focusing his eyes on them, trying to decide. The compartment falls silent as he tries to choose before Trolly Man sighs, pushing the cart away. "Again, you make my job so hard, Potter."

"Do I know you?" Harry asks, confused, as the trolly rolls out into the hall, vanishing into ash, all its bottles gone.

"Yes." The man rubs his hand down his face as if greatly inconvenienced. Harry waits for an explanation, but no one comes, and Hadrian plays with his bottles.

"From where?" He asks at last, unable to help himself.

One dark eye- utterly devoid of any features, just darkness. Harry reels back at the inhuman-looking gaze, clutching to Hadrian protectively- peaks at him through fingers. "You escaped me before, and my dog led you here."

Oh.

"Death." He breathes.

"Yes. It seems you escaped me again." Death sighs. "And to think you made it all the reincarnation bottles."

"The what?"

"Reincarnation Bottles. The ones you pick before Life crafts you a new body, and Fate uses the potions in them to create your luck of the draw. You, however, are not going to reincarnate. You would have been going back, but your body has expired, and unlike the killing curse, there was too much damage to fix for Life to put you back in. Guess you will spend all eternity here."

Death glances down at Hadrian with a gentle smile. "Kiddo here is going to stop at the next port."

"Why can't he come with me?" Hadrian pouts "Why does he have to stay?"

"He didn't get a bottle, kiddo."

"He can have one of mine!" Hadrian hands Harry the empty bottle. It's the size of his thumb and has a round golden bottle top. A rush of warmth runs through his body the moment he touches it. Death tilts his head considering before he snaps his figures.

At once, Harry watches as Hadrian goes from a small, sickly child to a healthy, angelic one with sunny curls that fall over his ears and wide blue eyes that gleam. There is a moment where Hadrian stares in wonder at himself before Harry starts to shrink and ends up at eye level with the surprised child.

Death grins. "If it's freely given, then the Second Chance can be transferred. Harry Potter, you will go back, but not as the Boy Who Lived. You will return as Hadrian Evans, an identity and a healthy body bestowed by a kind soul. Don't waste it."

Harry opens his mouth to demand a better explanation, but between one blink and the next, he vanishes into a bright light. He clutches his eyes closed, feeling his body, his soul, and his memories shift in a whirlpool of emotions.

He is Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Slayer of Voldemort, Father of Three, Husband of a Professional Quidditch Player, born and raised in England.

He is Hadrian Evans, a wizard of two Squibs. He was born and raised in America due to his American mother. He was sick all his life up until he was ten years old, when surgery saved his life. He moved to England after his father realized his son had developed magic.

Per tradition, despite not being allowed to carry his magical family name due to his Father's disownment for his lack of magic, Hadrian was to be sent to Hogwarts and permitted access to the family vaults. He was the last heir to the family bloodline, and his father's scorn family portraits would rather a Squib-mutt keep their line of work alive than let the family magic die out.

He is eleven years old and stands before the open door of a compartment Hogwarts Express in 1991, nervous and unsure of his place.

Both memories, personalities, and souls mix until Harry Potter takes over and realizes Death has allowed him to take over a version of Hadrian Evans's life in a similar timeline.

How does he know?

"Are you just going to stand there, or will you come in?" A young boy with red hair demands. Across from a boy with baggy clothes, untidy hair, and deep, deep green eyes staring back at him.

It's himself or a version of himself.

Harry gulps, licking his lips and gathering his thoughts. He smiles hesitantly. "Are you sure it's okay for me to sit here?"

"Of course. There's space enough," Other Harry Potter tells him with a shy smile, and he is suddenly hit with the reminder that he was once reserved and cripplingly socially awkward due to his treatment by the Dursleys. It's one thing to live through it, but to see the effects of abuse on a child is another thing.

"Thank you." He says, pushing in his trunk, memories of his parents helping him pack with childlike excitement flashing behind his eyes. Strange to think of the Evans as strangers and loving parents of eleven years all at once.

Despite the contradiction, he knows that should he ask if they will open their home to Harry due to suspected abuse, the Evans would have Harry's room painted and decorated long before he arrived at their house.

Both adults know what living with a family that hates you is like.

"My name's Hadrian Evans," He tells the boys, accepting the name in a second. He had lived as Harry Potter and had been comfortable with its end. But now he had a new beginning, and that was rather exciting.

"Ron Weasley. Cool accent. You from the States?"

Hadrian grins with a sudden rush for life that he has not felt in a long time. "Yeah, I am."

Ron's eyes widen as a soft blush develops over the top of his cheekbones, and Harry coughs into his fist, looking flustered. Confused, Hadrian tilts his head as Ron stutters about which Hogwarts House they like to get into, attempting to change the topic.

Harry admits to not knowing what that is, and thus, the redhead launches into a fast-paced explanation, grateful for the olive branch. Hadrian settles in his seat, smiling softly, watching the two children speak.

[alwayshinny]

AU, where Sirius kidnaps Harry from the Dursleys and shows up at Andromeda Tonks home.

Sirius escaped Azkaban after finding out Petunia had custody of Harry. He had expected to find Harry mistreated, but nothing could prepare him for the sight that awaited him. Sirius found his godson outside his small frame, trembling from the cold, shivering, and crying silently outside while the Dursley’s were having dinner inside their comfy home. Sirius had never felt so much rage in his life. The laughter that used to dance in Harry’s eyes had vanished, replaced by a haunting emptiness. He approached Harry cautiously, afraid to startle the little boy. As soon as Harry spotted Sirius, he lunged toward him, desperate arms wrapping around his godfather. Sirius held on to him tightly and rubbed his back and hands, trying to warm him up. Tears soaked through Sirius shirt as Harry clung to him and pointed towards the window, babbling nonconstructive words almost as if he were trying to tell him how the Dursleys had been treating him. “Mama?” Harry asked, looking behind him. Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat. “Dada?” He asked this time, looking into Sirius eyes. Sirius bit his lip, trying to keep the sob from escaping, and shook his head. The child looked at him for a few seconds before he put his head on his shoulder and cried. At that moment, Vernon opened the back door immediately, looking like he was ready to yell or hit the child for crying out loud. Harry’s body automatically tensed up at the sight of him as he held on to Sirius tighter. Sirius shielded Harry as he towered over the porky man. His voice cut through the icy air, “Touch him, and you’ll die.”

[diremoone]

Hourglass | Sirius Black.

Summary: Fate changes when you intervene and stop Sirius from trying to kill Peter for his betrayal. Sirius doesn’t go to Azkaban, and you and your husband up raising your godson Harry.

****

You barely made it in time. Your scream of hatred distracted Sirius and Peter long enough to petrify your husband — “Petrificus Totalus!” — mere seconds before Peter blew up the entire street.

It was all you could do. You couldn’t kill Peter and you couldn’t let Sirius kill him either. All you could do was stop Sirius, and you’d done it successfully. Even at the cost of him fully directing his anger at you.

“Do you know what you’ve done?!”

“I saved you from getting sent to Azkaban!”

“I would’ve rather!” Sirius yelled. “Peter deserves to die for what he’s done!”

“And Harry deserves to have his godfather in his life!” you fired back, tears streaming down your cheeks. “And I deserve to have my husband! Don’t let Peter do more damage and take you away from me — from Harry!”

Sirius’ face contorted, several different emotions passing through him in less than a second. He looked between where Peter had been, you, and the ground, half-heartedly pacing back and forth angrily. The Aurors would be arriving soon, and he wasn’t entirely sure if they would believe him.

They’d believe you… probably. With your deeper connections into the Ministry and the fact you’ve made many friends over the years, they had to believe your word that Sirius hadn’t killed Peter.

“They’ll check our wands to see what spell we’ve used last,” you mutter as you fix his hair. “Hope yours was—“

“Expelliarmus.” He grimaced, hoping the disarming spell wouldn’t be his undoing.

True to word, when the Aurors arrived, that was the first thing they did. You clenched your teeth together a little too hard when it looked like they were going to break yours and Sirius’ wands. You kept them on one side of you and Sirius, rather than let them circle around you to intimidate you.

Mad-Eye Moody was the one that vouched for the two of you. He also played a big part of scaring off the other Aurors when they got too close and too rude.

Moody side-eyes you with his fake eye and speaks lowly, “Go back to Grimmauld and wait. Dumbledore and McGonagall will be there to advise you on what’ll happen next. Harry should be there with them, too. Be prepared for a trial from the Ministry.”

After about an hour, you and Sirius were finally allowed to go home. The Aurors were erasing the memories of any of the Muggles that had seen anything remotely close to magic.

Apparating back to and inside of Grimmauld Place per Moody’s advice, true to Mad-Eye’s word, both Dumbledore and McGonagall were there waiting for your and your husband, the latter more visibly upset.

Wait, Hagrid’s here?

But you understood why Hagrid was there, seeing what was in his arms before Sirius did.

The half-giant smiled up at you from the couch. “Ah, ‘ere ya go, [Name]. One sleepin’ tyke.”

Hagrid hands you your godson as carefully as a half-giant can. The moment you adjust Harry in your arms, your heart melts and you almost begin to cry.

You want to cry because of how much you already love this boy. You want to cry because of what you’ve lost. You want to cry for Harry and what he’s lost, because he’ll never know his wonderful parents and their devotion and unconditional love for him — the very same love that’s the only reason Harry’s alive.

“O’, don’ cry, [Name].”

“How can I not?” You sniffle, trying not to really cry and get in your feelings too much while you hold the adorable infant. “How can I not be upset after all that’s happened? Harry doesn’t have any parents; he’ll never know them.”

Warm lips press themselves to the side of your temple in a loving kiss.

“He’ll know them as best as he can through us,” Sirius says quietly, but the room is so silent everyone can hear him despite that. “He has us, and we’ll protect him from everything that tries to harm him or come after him. We will protect him, love him the same way Lily and James would have.”

You turn to look at him and reply sadly, “But we’re not his parents, Sirius.”

“No,” he agrees, “but we’re all Harry’s got now. And we’re going to give him the as close to the same life that James and Lily would have.”

At the mention of his name, the baby in your arms shifted. He yawned cutely, then opened his big green eyes that reminded you of your best friend. Your late best friend.

And you wholeheartedly agree with Sirius, “We sure will.”

[ailithnight]

After this chapter, I will no longer be doing a taglist. Sorry folks, there's just too many of y'all and I'm on mobile. Please subscribe on AO3 for updates, or follow the tag A King in Arkham.

A King in Arkham

Chapter 4

AO3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Danny. I understand you don't want to go with your godfather. Is there a reason for that?

Can't go with Vlad!

If you know something we don't about him, you need to tell us. Otherwise he will win custody.

It's.. He'll.. he'll make me.. turn me.. his fault!

What's his fault, Danny?

His fault. All his. All.. My.. no, my fault. It's all my fault...

Danny?

IT'S MY FAULT! I KILLED THEM! ALL DEAD! Because of me...

Now Danny, I'm sure that's not true. What happened at the Nasty Burger-

I made it happen.

Corporate negligence-

He knew. I knew. Dan knew what would happen. Dan made it happen. He knew the sauce was gonna blow. He knew Lancer would arrange the meeting there. He cheated. He lured them there. He bound them up so they couldn't escape and ran the time out until they exploded! Dan did that and Dan was me, so I did that.

Daniel...?

I murdered them. I murdered everyone. 

Da-

IT'S ALL MY FAU- *static*

.

Tim started talking after the audio cut to static.

"What you just heard is the last, partially recovered therapy session of Danny's in Chicago. The cameras were beyond salvaging. No one except Danny knows what happened after the audio cuts. What is known is that nearby witnesses heard what they claim sounded like a 'screaming moan' coming from the therapy room. When doctors and staff went to check; the therapist Mrs. Alders was slumped against the wall, appearing to have been forcefully pushed, with minor head trauma. Danny was curled up on the other side of the room, panicking and muttering about a Dan.

While Mrs. Alders mostly recovered from the incident, she does not know how she ended up slammed against the wall. Once this audio was recovered, it was turned over to the police. Given the severity of the... confession... in conjunction with the apparent assault, the courts decided to move Danny to an asylum for the criminally insane." Tim paused in the debrief, letting the information sink in. After a moment, Duke raised his hand. Jason scoffed at the action.

"This ain't kindergarten kid, say your bit."

"I just, that explains why an asylum in general. But why Arkham?" Tim nodded, pulling up a picture of a document.

"Kid's godfather, business tycoon and multimillionaire, Vlad Masters. Insisted that if his godson should have to go to an asylum, he'll go to the- and I quote- 'Best in the country.' Made a deal with the state that he'll foot the bill while he continues fighting for custody. Apparently didn't do his research enough to know that 'Best Known' and 'Best' are not the same." Bruce had the next question.

"So, Master's doesn't have custody yet?"

"Nope." Tim popped his 'p', pulling up more documents. Investigative reports. "Given Danny's reactions to him, CPS started investigating. Found a lot of shady shit. Narcissism, anger issues, control issues, coercion tactics. 

One agent said he tried to bribe her with a rather large sum of money, which she might have taken if she wasn't well enough off from a family inheritance and mostly doing this work for the kids. Of course, same agent also said he had 'Rancid vibes' and 'tried to posses' her, but her 'Grammy's necklace protected her' so her credibility was deemed iffy.

Still, there's enough there that it's unlikely Masters will be able to gain custody any time soon. So if Gotham's favorite serial adopter with a good track record for helping troubled kids, Brucie Wayne, were to step in..." Tim's smirk is infectious and makes its way around the table. Bruce's lips twitch ver briefly into a fond smile, before dropping back into a frown.

"What do you make of the... confession?" Jason doesn't even try to hold in his groan.

"Seriously, B? It was survivor's guilt or some kind of psychotic episode or something." Damian frowns.

"I would not discredit him so quickly, Hood. After all, his ghosts are real apparently."

"Hnn." Bruce gets that look on his face. The almost constipated frown that means he is going to have to do something unpleasant like host a gala or attend a business meeting or, "I will have to call Constantine to verify what the entity we are dealing with is." 

Jason lets out a gleeful snort. "Have fun with that one, B. In the mean time can I go break our kid out yet or what?"

"Actually, Hood," Jason turns a glare on Tim, who is once again holding his hands up placatingly. "That still leaves us with the issue of making him an escapee and you an accomplice."

"Well fuckin Brucie Wayne can't exactly just walk up to Arkham and ask if they've got any blue eyed black haired boys for him to adopt."

"Not exactly what I'm suggesting here."  Batman sighs.

"What are you suggesting." Tim pulls out a case he had tucked under the desk, a truly devious smirk painted across his face.

"Just a little temporary theft. Only long enough to put the kid's face on the news for Brucie to stumble across." He opens the case, sliding it over to Jason. Inside, a replica of a relic from Tim's own past; resized to fit his bigger, broader brother. "You remember Red X, don't you?" 

The green that had been tinting Jason's vision the whole meeting finally subsides, giving way to wicked mirth.

"Oh, hell yes." 

Batman sighs.

.

"You don't get it do you? I'm still here. I still exist. That means you still turn into me."

Another night, another nightmare of a memory jolting Danny back into the waking world. His chest is tight, a high whine suppressing itself in the back of his throat. Danny's eyes dart around his room, searching for the shadowy void of his most frequent visitor. But Spectra isn't there tonight. She hasn't come back since she was seen by Banana Bat. 

It's strange. Danny had gotten used to waking up with her there, towering over him, shadowy clawed hand resting somewhere on his body as she feasted on his misery. He didn't mind, really. He had plenty to give and she didn't even rough him up too bad. Just enough to keep the psyches concerned. The last 3 days without her presence had been... not lonely. Danny was already lonely. But emptier. Like the one good thing his continued existence was doing for someone had been ripped away.

Truly, Danny felt he had nothing left in this world. Nothing to give, nothing to gain. But he couldn't die. Couldn't unleash full ghost Phantom on the world again. That's what created Dan. No, this was what he had to give. All he had to give. To stay human so that Dan never becomes ghost.  To live, as the least burden he could be, so that Dan never died. 

Clockwork must have known what would happen if Danny fully died. That must be why he spared him. The Observants sentenced Danny to death. But Clockwork was smarter. He sentenced Danny to life. And really, it's such a small price to pay for the sins of his other self. 

Despite what the others say, Arkham isn't hell. The only issue Danny's had was the clown and that's not really anyone's fault. It's just, Danny looked at the Joker and he saw Freakshow. And he saw that stupid staff. And he heard that grating laugh. And all he could think about was how that was the only thing that could still turn him into Dan. If the clown took control again. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't! Not becoming a Dan, not becoming a problem; that's all he could do now! He couldn't he couldn't he couldn't...

Danny was broken out of his spiraling thoughts by the now familiar buzzing echoing clanging sound of another break out. He closed his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. Then, suddenly, he was lifted up, hoisted onto someone's shoulders in a fireman's carry. 

"Damn kid, do you weigh anything?" 

Danny's eyes flew open, his body subconsciously tensed for a fight Danny wouldn't actually fight. The voice, clearly modulated, sounded high and breezy. His head turned to look at the person now forcefully evicting him from his room. Black body suit. White mask. Red slashes in a stylized X. Built like his Dad... Danny had no idea who this was.

For a moment, Danny felt a twinge of fear. He had no idea who this was. They obviously weren't with Arkham. They had just stolen him from his room and, holy shit they were flying now. No. Not flying, grappling. And running. Moving very fast towards the exit. With Danny. For unknown reasons. 

Holy shit, someone was kidnapping a teenager from an insane asylum. That, probably wasn't good. Any normal or sane person would be scared for their health and wellbeing. But, well... Danny was hardly normal. And sane was becoming increasingly questionable. 

And this guy, well he didn't trigger Danny's ghost sense. No chilly breath escaping his mouth. So he was human, not a ghost. It's not like a human could kill Danny. Not with his ghostly healing factor. Sure, they could make his life a living hell. Beat him, violate him, enslave him. But a human couldn't turn him into Dan so... Danny doesn't think he really cares. 

"Um, why are you carrying me?"

"Taking you out of here." 

"Clearly, I meant why?"

"Owe someone a favor." That was mildly concerning. Danny could think of one person who would stoop to this.

"Did Vlad send you?"

"Master's? Nope. He couldn't afford my services."

"Oh. Okay." As long as it wasn't Vlad. They were almost to the main gate now. There was screaming behind them, now. Danny loomed behind them as the person grappled up the wall and vaulted them over. Danny caught the barest glimpse of the twink in a burlap sack mask striding out the door, leaving a noxious cloud in his wake.

Then they're gone, grappling to then moving across rooftops. It's not a bad feeling. Kinda fun even. Flying as a ghost was nice. Really nice. But different from this. Gravity literally didn't touch you if you didn't want it too. But this? Danny could feel the pull of the earth, the force of every swing. Gravity was still there, exerting its influence, but they were defying it. 

For a tiny moment, Danny felt the ghost of a smile on his lips. The good feeling was fleeting, like all his feelings these days. But it was there and it was enough to shock a small "Oh." from Danny.

"Oh what, runt?"

"Nothing, just. Never grappled before. S'nice."

"Oh." It was such a soft thing, Danny once more found himself pondering the intentions of his kidnapper. 

"Do I get to know where we're going?"

"Safe house for the night. I'm your baby sitter."

"And tomorrow?"

"We'll see."

"...Okay."

.

The next morning, Vicki Vale stumbles across the story of her career (so far) sitting dazed and confused in her office. A prepubescent boy in an oversized Arkham uniform? The day after a breakout where Scarecrow and only one other inmate escaped? Oh this is bound to sell.

Okay, I know the show pretty heavily implies that Teen Titans Robin us Dick.

But

What if it was Tim?

[whorediaries-09]

drowned and dreamt

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s)- angst, substances, suggestive content. a/n- this is a really devasting chapter, and there's no interaction between sirius and reader in this one. but for the sake of his character in the story, i feel this is relevant.

little train. series masterlist.

sirius walked into a muggle toy store, looking for stuff that his godson-who he had never met, might like. what would a boy of 6 like, he wondered. in his mind, he was reminded of 20 year old sirius black when he'd had held the soft, warm bundle of joy within his arms for the first time, already making up plans in his mind to spoil him rotten.

he'd almost lost it when james had asked him to be his godfather. he'd been shaking from holding back tears of joy. he remembered harry's first birthday. he'd went all out, ordered a big chocolate cake from the finest bakery, bought about twenty pairs of outfits, and a toy broom. with the war tossing and turning into its darkest paths, he supposed it would cheer the confined little soul.

little did he know the moment he'd dreamt for so long, would be drowned with a span of a few months.

so, he stared at the colorful collection of toys neatly arranged on rows, wondering what he could buy. he didn't want to send in any toys which induced magic, he supposed petunia wouldn't like it. he couldn't imagine how she treated him, but by sending anything petunia would be prejudiced about, he didn't want to worsen it.

so, he picked up a toy car, which was shaped like a little beetle, a little lion stuff toy, a few coloring books, a set of crayons and water paints, and the best quality brushes. his pockets full of money, he wanted to spent all he had for him, to make his godson happy.

to see harry happy would be having the world in his hands.

the elderly woman at the counter smiled, wrapping up the things into a shiny paper and sliding it into a colorful bag with animated drawings of little animals. somehow, sirius felt his heart hurt. somewhere, in his mind he was reminded of his childhood.

was he trying to give harry the life he never had? was he trying to live his childhood through him?

*-

with soft steps, sirius found way to james potter's grave. the night had fallen, the dark sky reflecting the shine of the stars high and bright. somewhere, he imagined james watching sirius from up there, floating towards him and wiping off the hot tears staining his face.

he sat beside the tombstone.

'are you cold in there james? i s'ppose so. but i think you'll be quiet warm, prongs. weren't you such a ray of sunshine?' he pauses, as if waiting for a reply. he stares at the name engraved on the stone. somewhere, he felt a part of himself drown. but he let it drown, shy of the spark of life. he adored the feeling, which wrapped its hands around his neck. he breathes slowly,

'you were a ray of sunshine to me prongs, when i was drowned in the rain. you took me in, provided the warmth that my own mother couldn't. all of you provided me the warmth i needed. you, lily, remus, harry. speaking of which, i bought him a few presents for his sixth birthday, you remember don't you?' he pauses again, the lump in his throat tightening. he whispers slowly, letting the tears consume him into a little ball, cutting off the air,

'your life was so short, but you got so many blessings, prongs. we were so young, and there was so much we couldn't do. there was so much you couldn't do. so much, like raising harry. i know you'd be a great dad, just like papa.' the tears fall, and his heart bleeds. he finds the vile cruelty of life capturing him into an endless loop of imprisonment.

'i miss you, prongs.'

*-

the whiskey is neat, harsh and bitter as it flows down his throat. it burns, the taste unfamiliar on his tongue. the keys of the new apartment prick into his skin, so, he adjusts his pants, while sliding down another bill for a new glass. his heart was beating fast.

lily potter knew alcohol.

and sirius knew he wanted to be drunk. so that is why he was shrouded in a corner of the muggle pub he'd found down the street. it was a small pub, not too bright, perfect for sketchy things that went down the history of crimes. the pub had seen it all too- from drug dealing to murder.

the floor was sticky, and the air reeked of beer, sweat and thick british accents from the throats of old men with wobbly chins whose life's purpose was to stare at young girls to creep them out. within the loud music their obnoxious laughter and comments reached sirius' ears.

slowly as the alcohol reached into his system, he felt the warmth of the blood rush into his face. he felt his heart drown and mind dense with the fifth glass that went down his throat. along with the alcohol, went down his senses as he attached his lips to a girl and took her home.

in a haze, he stripped apart her clothes, feeling her body. he buried his nose into her neck, biting, kissing, licking and touching every bit of her bare skin. she got rid of his pants, pumping him into erection.

he'd not felt this touch, hot and alive for so long. he wondered if he would crumble under his touch. but as a teenager, he remembered sex being his coping mechanism. it was when he was high upon hormones he couldn't control.

but now that he pushed himself into her, the warmth of her body trying to defrost the coldness within him, he felt himself crumble. hot and slow, he thrusted, trying to warm the cold, poisonous blood that drowned his heart.

but his mind was suddenly running, when in a faint flashback, he was reminded of your smile. he felt the his heart drowning into a pool of guilt. yet, the pleasure of the sound of your laughter echoed, and he felt his sky fall, crumble and shatter till there was no more serenity left, till he succumbed into pure madness.

****************************************

original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

taglist (for series) - @urbansaint

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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[iuqueenlei]

A New Dawn: The Birth of Harry Potter

James Potter paced nervously outside the small, cozy room in their cottage at Godric's Hollow. The house, usually filled with laughter and mischief, now felt thick with tension and anticipation. He could hear the muffled sounds of Lily’s labor, every gasp and cry sending a wave of anxiety and excitement through him.

Sirius Black, his best friend and honorary uncle to the soon-to-be-born child, stood by the window, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. "Prongs, mate, you need to sit down before you wear a hole in the floor."

James shot him a look of mock irritation. "Pads, I can't just sit. Lily's in there, and any moment now—"

"Any moment now, you'll be a father," Sirius finished with a grin, his grey eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. "And I'll be the coolest godfather ever."

James chuckled despite his nerves. "Just don't teach him all your bad habits, alright? One troublemaker in the family is enough."

"Hey, I promise nothing," Sirius said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "But I do promise to love that kid more than anything."

A door creaked open, and both men turned to see a tired but smiling healer stepping out. "Mr. Potter, you can come in now. Congratulations, it's a boy."

James felt his heart leap into his throat. He exchanged a wide-eyed look with Sirius, who clapped him on the back. "Go on, Dad."

With shaking hands, James opened the door and stepped inside. The room was warm, filled with a soft, magical glow. Lily lay in bed, looking exhausted but radiant, her fiery hair a halo around her head. In her arms, wrapped in a soft blanket, was their newborn son.

"James," Lily whispered, her green eyes shining with tears of joy. "Meet Harry."

James approached the bed, his eyes fixed on the tiny bundle. He gently sat beside Lily and looked down at their son. Harry's eyes were closed, but his small hands twitched slightly as if feeling his parents' presence.

"He's perfect," James said, his voice choked with emotion. "Absolutely perfect."

Lily smiled, tears slipping down her cheeks. "He has your hair," she noted, running a finger through the tufts of dark hair on Harry's head.

"And your eyes," James added softly, imagining them opening to reveal the same brilliant green that had captured his heart years ago.

Sirius hovered at the door, unsure if he should intrude. Lily noticed him and beckoned him over. "Come meet your godson, Sirius."

With uncharacteristic hesitance, Sirius approached, peering at the baby with a mix of awe and tenderness. "Hey there, little Harry," he whispered, his voice unsteady. "I'm your Uncle Sirius. We're going to have so much fun together."

James laughed softly. "Remember, Pads, no bad habits."

"Only the best ones," Sirius promised, gently touching Harry's tiny hand. "Welcome to the world, kiddo. You're in for one hell of a ride."

As they sat together, the new family and their closest friend, a sense of peace and completeness settled over them. Despite the dark times ahead, in that moment, there was only love and the beginning of a new chapter filled with hope and possibilities.

[radiant-reid]

There is a photo going around with a little anecdote that says something like "my nephew is not allowed to have popsicle and because he does everything I do we have decided to say I wasn't allowed to eat any either. But today he guided me in the bathroom and gave me one and said : "now we can have popsicle together :)" Or something similar

I want to think it happened to Spencer at some point with one of his godsons (or does he only have one ? I don't remember) He would feel SO guilty but wouldn't be able to resist the cute face and just eat in secret

And when they get caught, because I mean, there is profilers everywhere, he would respond to the questions with "But he wanted to share !!! :(" alongside with statistics showing that kids that shares at an early age are more empathic in their adulthood or have bonding moments with adults other than the parents make them more emotionaly stable or whatever (made up here, out man is smart enough to know actual studies)

Anyway, I thought of it and made me smile so I wanted to share the happy image ♥️

omg i've seen this and it's so cute. i just had to write it

"Uncle Spencer, I have something to show you," Henry announces, walking into JJ and Will's lounge, where you're sitting with your finacé while JJ gets a bottle of wine to start the night and Will puts baby Michael down.

You pull your legs off his lap, and Spencer frowns a little at you before following Henry out.

"What's up, buddy?" Spencer asks as they walk down the hallway. Henry opens the bathroom door. "What's in the bathroom?"

"You know how mommy said you're not allowed to have popsicles?" Henry asks, shutting the door behind them like it's top secret.

Spencer does remember the white lie he had to tell to avoid Henry begging for one before dinner. JJ's thinking behind the request was that if Spencer couldn't have one, Henry wouldn't want one either, and she was absolutely right about her son's idolization of his godfather.

He opens the bottom drawer and pulls out two grape-flavored popsicles, handing one to Spencer. "I snuck two for us."

"Henry..." Spencer wants to tell him off and be the responsible godfather JJ asked him to be seven years old and not participate in sugar before dinner. But Henry's adorable with his big blue eyes and how much he cares. "Thank you."

"We have to eat them here, though, so mommy doesn't find out." He informs Spencer.

He agrees to the plan. "Alright, we've got to be quick."

After Spencer doesn't come back for five minutes and JJ wonders where they're both at, you decide to go looking together, figuring Spencer got dragged into train-track building for a fourth hour and couldn't say no.

Giggling in the bathroom attracts your attention, and JJ nudges open the door to find Spencer and Henry sitting on the floor, purple-colored tongues and popsicles in their mouth. Their heads whip around to look at you, and their eyes grow wide with guilt. Basically, two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"What's going on in here?" JJ asks, raising her eyebrows. It's a mom way that has Henry hurrying to finish the popsicle before she takes it off him. "I thought I said no sugar before dinner." She reminds him.

"Sorry, mommy." Henry apologizes, utilizing the same puppy dog eyes that work on Spencer.

"You're not allowed one after dinner, now." She informs him of his punishment. "Can you go set up the plates for dinner, please?" He gets up, scurrying off to do his chore. Spencer awkwardly gets up, too, grimacing as he waits for his punishment. "You're in more trouble, Reid." She tells him.

Spencer shakes his head. "He brought them in here because he thought I wasn't allowed them, and he didn't want me to feel bad if he had one." He tries to blame Henry.

"And you let him force you into eating it?" She asks, joking now.

"Children learn empathy from watching adults and feeling our empathy for them, so in a way... good job." He says it like it's a question, and both of you- the reasonable adults- laugh.

She pats him on the shoulder. "Thanks, rule breaker. Dinner's ready now, so let's hope he eats it, or I'm blaming you."

He gulps as you walk out to the dining room where Henry's set up the table, and you lean over to whisper in Spencer's ear. "I like your rebel side."

[impishtubist]

Why do I now have to picture Sirius excitedly telling everybody that he's about to become godfather like a physical father would do? But he would immediately start reading books about anything you need to know about Babys and ask James and Lily from time to time wheter they had thought of everything. It just means so much to him!! And he just wants to offer help where his friends lovers need it. And he would probably take adorable care of lily. Classic Sirius completely dedicated to the Potters. Love him

Also tagging @arliedraws

So I can't decide if I like excited godfather Sirius who can't shut up about Lily having his godson, or if I like a Sirius who is all "ugh, you're having a BABY??? there is a WAR on" and is super uninterested until the moment he's holding Harry for the first time and his heart fucking STOPS because he loves this kid so much and so suddenly.

Grandfather Sirius, on the other hand? WILL NOT shut up about the future baby. He carries Ginny's ultrasound pictures around with him and talks nonstop about becoming a grandfather. Just whips his wallet out at the slightest provocation and is like "look??? you see that??? that little blob that looks like a bean??? THAT'S MY GRANDSON!!"

[comsumedsoul]

People think Sirius was brave enough to stand against his family's ideals. But I think it's that he wanted to be brave enough to stand against the "pureblood" beliefs. His courage was much more likely a response to his experiences, not some innate gryffindor bravery and recklessness.

It's like him being a rebel as a response to his abuse, him breaking the rules of the society he was brought up in, him being a troublemaker instead of a good heir like his parents wanted, it's more the want to be not like them, not so much as inherent bravery. Not to say that's not bravery, that is not the implication here. But people like to either diminish him as this glorified "good" character or make him utterly rash and irresponsible, and make that his entire personality, both of which are entirely opposite to what he is. Many just hate him as this "dark" character with deeds not worthy enough for redemption. Either him being so "good" it excuses all his faults or him being so fucked up it's not worth it to give him a chance.

The fact is he was reckless, and sometimes his actions come off as careless and at other times he makes us uncomfortable. But his flaws shadow his complex personality to such a degree that people forget he's also this brilliant person, someone expected to reach great heights, someone who suffered grave injustice, imprisoned for something he never did. The fact is that he still blamed himself. He lost his best friend, his real family, his soulmate, everything that actually gave him the will to fight on, everything which inspired him to be brave, and then be labelled as a traitor, a traitor to someone he loved the most, a betrayal from someone he trusted with his life, someone he would've given his life for, that stung worse than the imprisonment itself. He already lost the fight in him, couldn't even grieve because that's just how fast everything went wrong.

He's not a "nice" guy, instead has a morally grey outlook on life, because life screwed him over and over. He's selfless to the point it's selfish. He loves in a way that scars. His recklessness is a response mechanism, which will hurt others at times and I'm not excusing his actions either. The man spent 12 years in azkaban yet he was still sane enough to break out from there, which is a seemingly impossible task, the first person to do so. When he got the slightest hint that Harry might be in danger, that along with his burning desire for vengeance, was an incentive enough to awaken the fight in him, he then does the impossible, evidence of his brilliance and sheer determination and will, but also of his recklessness because he probably doesn't care about his life and later on doesn't consider the implications of his actions when he runs headfast into danger to protect Harry. He doesn't stop to think how that would affect Harry because Harry's safety takes priority for him, his utter lack of self worth easing him into the process. But there are moments where he's just this man trying to be a good godfather to his godson, trying to be brave enough to be there for Harry, brave enough to try to live for him. Whether or not he wanted it to end at one point is completely up to interpretation, but I feel he tried to be there for Harry, wanted to be brave even when suffocating in the home he did everything to leave behind, his remaining memories haunting him in every step and reminding him of everything he lost. In a position like that, it'd be very easy to fall into despair and just lose hope, I wouldn't fault him if he did. He's furthest from being perfect, and that's what makes him so human, all his trauma, his flaws, his bad decisions, his hurtful actions. His story is one of the most tragic in canon, but canon reduces him to this reckless hot tempered side character, the black sheep of the Black family yet unable to delve into what truly separates him from them.

This ALSO brings the point that Sirius "wanted" to not be like his family and by extension a Slytherin, similar to how Harry didn't "want" to be a Slytherin, tho Harry had at least canonically a more black and white outlook on life, but justified at the time, because at the mere age of 11, he learnt the evil wizard who killed his parents, the reason he was at the dursleys, the reason why he never had a good life, and probably never will, was in Slytherin, along with the dark arts and pureblood stigma associated with that house. Even though they all are just children, the encounter with Malfoy further solidified that anti-slytherin ideal. Although canon was crazy to make a single house the collective evil when it really is so much more (no one ever accused the TERF of being a good writer).

The way these characters (Sirius and Harry) are raised are also very similar. So gryffindor seems to value the want to be brave more than often, which might make sense as a trait actually favoured in a member of the house (as we see in Neville too), thus making some of these members kinda reckless to be perceived as more brave. Because that's what it is, the want to be brave.

[rayshippouuchiha]

No no I absolutely do not mind the tagging on to the title suggestion! I actually vote for Raising Uzumaki Naruto as the title because RUN makes it so much better! You can bet those 3 will have SO MUCH running to do after this sunny little ball of chaos that Jiraiya acquired on a whim and a sense of 'i can't just LEAVE him here what kinda of godfather am I if I do that', despite not having a freaking clue how to raise someone who's already partly self-guided.

Like, turn your head for a moment to confer with your teammates and then turn back to find your godson not only has a bear cub companion he found, but is also sticky, covered in dirt and grass, and cheerfully climbing a tree because some random town kids bet him he couldn't do it and he loves to prove people wrong. Also there was money involved.

(Jiraiya will forever swear that was Tsunade's influence even though Naruto met her barely 3 days ago. Orochimaru is already plotting ways to teach the kid tree-walking.)

Time to consult parenting books!

It's decided then!

Unfortunately for the Sannin, Naruto is actually pretty pragmatic about a lot of things (i.e. money) but beyond unhinged about other things (i.e. his new bear cub) and both of those traits lead to shenanigans on a regular basis.

Because Naruto's out of Konoha and has realized that these weird ass adults aren't actually gonna just leave him somewhere to rot. So now that he's a little bit more secure and significantly more well-fed, he's finally free to be his true fox-goblin self.

Jiraiya and Tsunade keep arguing about who he gets these traits from but Orochimaru is honestly delighted and actively plotting to make him worse.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Happy August!

I hope it's kind to you 💙

Some Curtis for you 🥰

Hey baby, You know I love me some Curtis, anytime, anywhere! Enjoy this little heart to heart talk with his godson, Timmy. Happy August!

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

Just talk to him, please?

Curtis knew it was coming, Timmy's father wasn't able to do this and it made a part of Curtis ache because he could relate. He had his grandfather though and the least he could do for his godson was step in when Tanya asked him too.

But how to even go about it?

He had went to you first, as far as kids and teens go, you worked with them everyday. You gave him a few pointers, steering him in the right direction but he still felt wildly unprepared for this. Timmy crashed next to him at the work table in the garage, fiddling with the Camaro part they just took out.

Bite the bullet.

So your mom told me that you are going on your first date?" Curtis reached for a tool to use, anything to occupy his hands. Timmy looked startled for a moment, like he was caught doing something before his cool kid mask slipped on, giving a shrug of his shoulder and turning back to his project.

"Laur and I are gonna go to see a movie and the arcade."

"That's a good place to hang out." Curtis glanced at Timmy's work. "You gotta degrease those bolts or she will lock up. You really like this girl?"

Timmy grabbed at a rag, fiddling with the part. "Laur is pretty cool." He kept his gaze down on the part.

"Just pretty cool?" Curtis pushed a bit, hoping he would open up a bit more.

"Okay! I really like her a lot." He groaned and ditched the part onto the table, turning to his godfather. "She's so pretty and funny and she asked me out!"

"Why wouldn't she?" Curtis asked, surprise making his brows shoot up.

"Because-"

"Because?" Curtis questioned again, trying to figure out where Timmy was going with this.

"I'm me...?"

"Kid if you don't spit it out." Curtis grumbled, leveling him a look.

"Fine, I'm a nerd! and she's not." Timmy sighed like all his worries were weighed down by this. Oh to be a teen again. Curtis stifled himself, knowing that this was a serious matter for him.

"Timmy, man, I'm sure she knows all that already. Sure you like comic books and games, you could out-whiz any of us in trivia, except maybe Honey. She might know more random facts than you do. You also love rebuilding engines, playing basketball and soccer, you are incredible with drums, and you're fucking funny. And you're exactly who you are supposed to be."

"But what if I'm not cool enough?"

"Dude, nerds are cool, girls love nerds. Look at me." Curtis yanked up his sleeve to show Timmy his tattoo. "I got a Smaug tattoo because I love The Hobbit so much. I'm a nerd."

Timmy looked a little doubtful but started to soften towards what Curtis was saying. "You really think so?"

"I know so, give Laur a chance to really get to know you. Without trying to be someone you're not." He shoved his sleeve back down. "If she asked you out, then she likes you. Girls don't ask out guys if they aren't interested."

Timmy seemed to ponder it over, reclaiming the part to clean up. "Okay, we're gonna have fun."

"Yes you are." Curtis confirmed, relieved to see that Timmy was starting to loosen back up to his usual self. He too went back to the car's engine when Timmy pipped up.

"Hey, will you one day let me take a date in the Camaro?" He looked hopeful and Curtis scoffed.

"Maybe someday, I gotta take my girl out in the Camaro first. Besides, you don't even have your license yet."

Timmy waved it off like that was no big deal. "I will soon enough!"

"Uh huh, let's get it running first and then we'll see."

[sevinisms]

THE GODFATHER — TSU’TEY HEADCANONS

#SYNOPSIS: tsu'tey being being a godfather/uncle to the sully kids

#WARNINGS: none

#CHARACTERS: tsu'tey, neteyam, lo'ak, kiri, tuk'tirey

#AUTHORS NOTE: this is my first post so be easy 💀

NETEYAM

without a doubt tsu’tey and neteyam had the most in common. they were both noble older brothers and strong hunter/warriors who took themselves way too seriously. a man of few words, tsu’tey wasn’t nearly as vocal as jake in regards to neteyam’s responsibilities. don’t be fooled though, his expectations were just as high. he considered his godson to be his successor as olo’eyktan one day and wanted to be sure that he could handle the pressure that comes with the title.

began calling neteyam "mighty warrior" when he got his first knife at 6 years old, teasing at first, but growing to mean it over the years. neteyam was without a doubt his favorite sully to hunt with, and he took pride in knowing that he helped perfect his shooting form (not that it needed much correcting, the boy was valid).

he gives the most insane dating advice like it’s normal.

“if you like this person, simply kill a sturmbeest and give it to them as an offering so they know that you're a good hunter. the bigger the better, then they’ll be more likely to mate with you.” “mate? i’m only 15–”

or

"someone made a pass at them yet you sit here whining to me? you must challenge them to a duel! i’m sure you could kill them easily-" "godfather, no-"

LO’AK

this boy is his father’s son through and through. since the day lo’ak uttered his first word, he and tsu’tey had been butting heads. i’m talking full blown arguments between a grown man and a child. tsu’tey didn’t care – he never ran from a fight, and he’d be damned if he started now.

he would always tell jake that he, "didn’t care for the little one” as a bit, but when lo'ak failed his iknimaya, you can bet that tsu’tey immediately began preparing him for the next one. he’d poke fun at him from the sidelines the same way he did when it was jake’s turn all those years ago. he’d point out every mistake lo’ak made, all to avoid saying that he was actually super proud to see him get an ikran this time around.

catches lo’ak and spider in places they shouldn’t be several times a week. he always wrangles them up and returns them to the village, swearing to rat them out to jake and neytiri. he’s usually bluffing though, save for the few times they’d actually had the potential to get hurt. sometimes he’d turn them in just to keep them on their toes which usually kept their antics at bay for a while. at the end of the day, they were just kids doing kid shit, and tsu’tey could only be so concerned about that.

KIRI

he wasn't rocking with her at all for for the first few years of her life. he still wasn't comfortable around "dreamwalkers", even after the war, so kiri’s miraculous conception from a dormant avatar did very little to ease his suspicions.

“look, i understand if you don’t want to be her godfather, but she’s not going anywhere. we’re all she’s got.” jake said.

though his suspicions began to fade over the years, they never left him entirely. having agreed to be her godfather as well, he tried to support her interests when could. they changed constantly, to whatever facet of nature she was obsessed with at the moment. this week it was mushrooms.

“i don’t know what kind they are so don’t ask.”tsu’tey would hand kiri a leather pouch full of random mushroom caps he’d collected during his last hunt.

she would always inspect the plants he brought and he’d take note of which ones she kept and which ones she didn’t, so he’d know the right ones to get next time. he would still accidentally bring the poisonous ones home sometimes.

he was the personification of "he's a little confused but he got the right spirit"

TUK’TIREY

tsu’tey would die for all of his godchildren in a heartbeat, but he would kill for tuk. she was his little partner in crime, often tagging along while he did his patrol of the forest or made new weapons. people rarely showed interest in the chores of the chief, but she’d found them cool enough, and that meant a lot to him.

one time, tuk was sulking around camp for days, until tsu’tey asked what was wrong. she’d asked jake to teach her how to shoot a bow, and he told her no, that she was still too young.

“nonsense. i learned to shoot an arrow before I could walk. i will teach you.”

tsu’tey was careful that he didn’t scold or poke fun at her when she released her shot too early or complained that her arms were sore. he didn’t want to discourage her. still, he wasn’t the type to offer flowery words of encouragement. he would simply correct her form and re-direct her towards her target.

“do it again.” “but godfather-” “again. and don’t slouch your shoulders like that.”

he’d give any gemstones and shells he found to tuk to polish and make into beads or armbands. in the beginning, he could admit that they weren’t as perfect as he liked, often uneven in shape and size, but he sported them anyway. after scoring his biggest kill wearing her beads, it became tradition to make him a new strand before every hunt. he kept every strand they ever made.