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static-radio-ao3 · 6 months

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@jegulus-microfic // march 26 // prompt: transfiguration // words: 1100 // cw: some blood and a minor wound (but it's v cute + fluffy)

“How did this happen again?” Sirius asks as he dabs at the cut along the palm of Regulus’ hand. The cloth stings, despite Sirius’ best attempts to be gentle.

“Just got a strong grip,” Regulus mumbles. His eyes flit around the room, catching on the gaudy red drapery and the mess of clothes scattered on every spare surface.

“Uhu, sure.” Sirius doesn’t look away from what he’s doing, carefully cleaning the wound. “But really?”

It’s not the first time something like this has happened. It has actually been a pretty common occurrence this past year. Summer had done James good and Regulus had a hard time not noticing it.

A few weeks ago, during Transfiguration, Regulus had accidentally made the windows explode when James walked in to drop off a note for professor McGonagall.

He’d sent Regulus a small smile on his way out and it immediately made Regulus' heart trip and the windows burst. James had been so brave about it too, sheltering Regulus’ body with his own to keep any shards from falling on him. He still remembers the warmth of his cloak and the scent of his shampoo.

Not too long after that, James had passed him in the courtyard when he was messing around with Barty and Evan. A cheery call of “Hey, Regulus!” and his spell had slipped out of his control, hitting a few people with a relatively harmless stinging hex.

Today, Regulus had been sitting next to Sirius in the Grand Hall, not aware he was actually in James’ spot. When James slid onto the bench next to him, thighs pressing against each other and the heat of his body seeping though the fabric of is clothes, Regulus had accidentally made the cups of pumpkin juice shatter.

Unfortunately, he had been holding his own, which is why he is currently perched on the edge of Sirius’ bed as Sirius tries to heal the small cut on the palm of his hand.

“I keep…” Regulus puffs up his cheeks, considering his words. “I keep messing things up. When J— this guy walks into the room.”

“You have a crush?” Sirius asks, finally looking up from the task at hand to meet Regulus’ eye.

“Don’t say it out loud,” he hisses. Regulus has to resist the urge to clap his hand over Sirius’ mouth, never mind the fact that they’re alone in his dorm right now.

“Why?”

“It’s embarrassing!”

“It’s not embarrassing! I think it’s sweet! My little brother, all grown up.”

Sirius sounds fond. Proud. Warmth sparks behind Regulus’ ribs.

“M not little,” he huffs, but it lacks any real heat. He knows he’ll always be Sirius’ little brother.

Good thing it’s his favorite thing about himself.

The blood has been cleared away enough for Sirius to see the cut. It’s not deep, thankfully, so a simple mending spell should do the trick.

The feeling of the spell is pleasant on his skin, like dipping his hand into warm water, relief rushing over him.

As luck would have it, James chooses that exact moment to walk into the room. Regulus counts to ten in his head, an attempt to quell the magic that is coursing through his veins and desperate to burst from his fingertips.

James looks handsome like this, hair a bit messy from where he has been running his hand through it, glasses low on his nose. Regulus itches to push it back into place. His tie is a bit too loose to be acceptable, but he seems to get away with it every time. The golden details of his uniform compliment the hazel of his eyes and Regulus is at risk of swimming in them if he doesn’t look away.

“Reg, hey, are you okay?” He sounds breathless, like he ran up the stairs to get here. Regulus tries not to get his hopes up.

He coughs, just to make sure his voice is still there. “Yeah, just a cut. Sirius is fixing it.”

Neither Sirius nor Regulus mentions that they are used to patching each other up. More familiar with each other’s healing magic than they’d like to admit. They had spent long nights with books they’d borrowed from the Black family library, learning simple healing spells.

“Why not go see Pomfrey?”

Regulus ignores the indignant hey from Sirius and says, “She had her hands full already. But it’s fine. Sirius can—”

“Here, let me,” James says, nudging Sirius out of the way.

Sirius is about to protest when he catches sight of Regulus’ face, a slow blush crawling up his neck and blooming on his cheeks. Understanding sparks in Sirius’ eyes and a shit-eating grin forms on his face.

“Yeah, Prongs can take care of this. I have to head out anyway.”

Regulus tries to communicate to Sirius that he should absolutely not leave or Regulus might end up accidentally setting his bed on fire. Or on purpose. He’s not sure yet. But Sirius elects to ignore his warnings and shuts the door behind him with a wink.

James’ hands are warm. His palms are calloused from all those hours practicing Quidditch, but no less gentle in their prodding.

“Strong grip, huh?” James murmurs as he pokes at the tender skin on Regulus’ hand. There isn’t much to mend anymore, Sirius was basically done, but neither of them mentions it.

“Yeah, apparently.”

Regulus is thankful his voice doesn’t crack, but the heat in his face is persistent, straying up to the tips of his ears.

“Mh, maybe you should try out for the Slythering Quidditch team. I’d like to have some real competition on the pitch.”

“Maybe.”

“Then again, maybe you’ll be distracted enough to let me sneak by, or to set your team’s brooms on fire.”

Red blooms in Regulus’ face, almost brighter than the red on the walls. His embarrassment is short-lived though, because James is laughing fondly, hands still cradling Regulus’ own.

“You did it on purpose!” He accuses.

“Not on purpose, per se. I just wanted to test a theory,” he muses. A thumb strokes over the back of Regulus’ hand and goosebumps erupt on his skin. James hums, content. “I’m sorry, though. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Regulus huffs in annoyance, but it’s a show and they both know it.

“I really am sorry,” James says again, ducking his head so he can meet Regulus’ eye. One of his hands comes up to push a dark curl away from Regulus’ forehead. Then, it settles on the side of his face. In the quiet space between them, he murmurs “Let me kiss it better.”

#regulus has an obvious crush and accidental magic #a recipe for disaster #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #jegulus microfic #mil's microfics #mil's writing

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remushrts · 6 months

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evan or barty comforting the reader after they hear someone talking about them??

Catharsis

— pairing: barty crouch jr x reader

— a/n: hii, thank you for the request!! you didn't specify if you wanted that platonic or romantic, so it can be read either way! also i chose barty because this is a little self indulging and i took it in a bit of an other direction, hope it's okay anyway

— warnings: inciting violence (because it's barty), reader (literally) breaks a tv (don't try this at home please), not proof read

When the bedroom door unlocks with a soft click, you don't know who you'd expect to enter, but definitely, it was not Barty. He walks over to you, eyes falling to your watery ones as he gives you a smile, only a bit softer than usual. "So, who do I need to beat?" He asks, sitting on the floor by your side without a care in the world.

"Nobody." You sniff, chuckling softly. "Good to know you're up for it though."

"Yeah, hell I am." You can tell his a bit stiffer too, he's not used to the whole thing, you think. Comforting people, being gentle with them, it was never Barty's strength. "Wanna talk about it? Or smash a tv?" You frown, his offer is tempting, but strange.

"Whose tv?" You ask, laughing softly. The sound is almost a huff, the only hint of humor in the soft curls of your lips.

"Don't worry about it." He smirks, propping himself up on his feet and holding out a hand for you, his eyes exhibiting a dangerous glint to them. "So, you wanna smash a tv? We can find the fucker's house too if you feel like breaking a window."

And yeah, maybe you do.

For Barty's credit, he did tell you you could break a tv. Still, you're a bit surprised as he walks you to his backyard and a full television stands on two bricks, looking brand new except from a few scratches on the led screen. Barty smirks at your reaction. "It's like a rage room, but I don't have a room to worry about cleaning up after." He explains, picking a bat from the floor and swirling it lazily, pretending to hit an invisible ball.

"Did you steal this?" You can't help but ask. Following after him, you can't help but notice the glass shards and wood splinters littering the floor, as well as a few bottle necks here and there.

"Of course not!" He feigns offense like the worst actor in the world. "It was on Evan's flat when he moved, but it's broken. Also, it reeks of beer, he thinks the bastard that owned it dumped a few cans on it and it broke down. He said it's not worth fixing, thus this baby sitting on my yard."

You only nod. Breaking a tv with Barty was not how you imagined your day would end, but you were not one to complain. At least you weren't crying yourself to sleep in your room.

"So, what's it gonna be, princess?" You open your mouth to ask what he's talking about, only to see him holding out the baseball bat and another brick on his hands. "Choose your weapon." You pick the baseball bat, and he handles you a pair of safety googles, to which you raise a brown. "What? I'm not an animal." As soon as you've secured the googles on your eyes, Barty lowers his own. "To who do we own the honor?"

You know what he's asking, the name has been stuck in your throat since he first asked, aching to get out like an ich you can't reach. You don't mean to feel as frustrated as you do with them, but you can't help yourself. You shout their names loudly, raising your bat in the air.

"And their little fucking shit talking friends!" Barty completes loudly, because of course he cracked it the moment he saw your state, raising a crow bar in the air, red painting chipped at both ends, you're not sure why or how he came do possess one of those, but you don't question either.

Instead, you swing your bat in the air, smashing the tv screen with a loud noise, glass shattering at your feet. Barty smiles by your side, and for a moment, you forget why you were so upset in the first place.

#marauders #marauders fic #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr #marauders fluff #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr blurb #marauders blurb #remushrts writes — ★

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mxqdii · 1 year

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you taught me - r.b

pairings: regulus black x reader

summary: her last relationship was so toxic that it effects her relationship with regulus. he teaches her what it's like to actually loved and cared for.

warning(s): mentions of abuse, mentions of toxic relationship, sad reader, fluff/comfort from regulus, slight panic attack.

not proofread

it's a typical day, i head to the library to find a good book.

as i walk in, i see regulus and a smile hits my face, we've been dating for a while now. it's still a secret, only evan and barty know, but we’re gonna tell others eventually.

i look around, seeing the empty library and hugging regulus from behind

"hi regs!" i smile and he turns around, eyebrow raised

"regs?" he questions with a teasing smile and my face drops

"sorry! i didn't even know i said that, i can stop if you want it was an accident i swear!" i ramble on and his expression changes again

he looks at me now in confusion

"what..?" i ask quietly

"i was joking love, it's okay." he says and i raise my eyebrows

"oh.. okay.." i noted with a smile

---

later that evening, me and regulus are still in the library, my legs over his as we sit on the couch.

a book in my hand as i flip the pages

my eyes light up as i read about it and regulus notices

"what's got you so happy?" he says and i smile, looking at him

"well, i've actually read this book like 10 times.. i just, i've always really really loved it, like so much. anyways its about thsi girl named lydia and she has like, nobody- anyways she moves to this new town and finds this boy- anyways! sorry i could talk about it for like hours, but i wont" i ramble on

his eyes watch me in astonishment while i talk, listening intently.

and even though he doesn’t know what i'm talking about, he doesn't care. he likes seeing the ways my eyes light up when im talking about something i'm passionate about

he likes seeing my cheeky smile when i'm explaining the characters

"keep talking, i'm listening" he says and i go wide eyed

nobody has ever said that to me before.

i almost feel tears fill my eyes as i look down and let out a smile, this feeling is so unfamiliar.

---

i'm sitting in my room distancing myself from my boyfriend, my friends, everyone.

i miss regulus, which is exactly why im distancing myself

sounds stupid, but i'd feel bad bothering him by asking to hangout, so i'm in here instead.

i could hangout with sirius, remus and james... but i'm just not up to it right now

suddenly theres a knock on the door

i open it seeing regulus, letting out a sigh of relief and gesturing him in.

"hey, where've you been all day, i haven't seen you at all" he says and i feel the guilt wash over me

"i know i'm really sorry i just felt... bad" i say, sitting on my bed

"about what my love?" he asks, sitting next to me.

"no it's nothing it's fine" i say smiling and he shakes his head

"tell me" he speaks softly and i melt at the tone

"i don't know i just missed you but i didn't wanna bother you so i came here instead, i don't know it's stupid i'm sorry" i say, avoiding eye contact the whole time

"what? baby you could've just asked to hangout i was free all day" he says with a sad chuckle

"oh.. sorry" i mumble

he moves closer to me tucking my hair behind my ear

regulus was never usually a soft person, but something about me made him melt, he'd never admit that though.

something about how gentle and fragile i was made him feel the need to be the most loving person i could have

and he knew something had happened, the way i always apologized and second guessed my words, the way i was careful around him, the way i put him before myself

i didn't need to act that way around him though, but he didn't know how to tell me that, so instead he just decided to show me, as much as he could.

without saying anything, he pulled me into a loving hug, a hug i've never gotten before

i let myself melt into his warmth, feeling nothing but comfort in this moment.

---

me regulus were told to meet sirius, remus and james in the gryffindor common room, which isn't unusual considering we all hangout all the time.

we walk in to be met with uncomfortable tension and silence

"jesus who pissed us off" i say sarcastically and they stay quiet

"come on guys, what?" regulus says

"tell me y/n, how long have you been fucking my brother" sirius shouts and my eyes widen

"sirius-" i try to explain but he doesn't let me

"i mean really? my brother? that's low y/n" he says and i feel my chest tighten at the yelling

"and you!- one of my best friends? really??" sirius says, speaking to regulus now.

"sirius it's not like that" i say, still in my normal tone.

"like hell it is!" he argued

"you don''t understand- we're-" before finishing my sentence, sirius interrupts again

"you're what? in love? i don't care what you are, i care about you two not fucking telling me. i had to find out through some random ravenclaw! and to top it off it's my brother and my best friend, yet i wasn't the first to know??? unbelievable." he shouts

i don't even notice the way i'm shaking, the way it's become hard to breathe.

i feel so aware of everything, just not myself.

"sirius-" remus trys to interrupt to stop him

"sirius stop" regulus shouts

they continue yelling at eachother until sirius walks towards me

i tense my body, preparing for something i know all too well.

"i expected more from you y/n, i would've expected you to tell me about this shit" he argues, his voice still raised and his tone still bitter

"sirius- calm down" i say, not knowing what else to do

"calm down!?" he shouts, raising his hands in exasperation

his hands, his voice, his tone.

it was too familiar, so i did what i know

i used my hands to protect myself, covering my face.

i fucking flinched.

the room falls silent, not a single whisper, even from sirius.

still in my hiding position, i realize what i just did, how i just reacted, i know sirius would never hit me.

fuck, i messed up.

my hands lower from my face and i slowly turn my head towards sirius, scared to see his reaction

i look up at him, tears overflowing in my eyes

i see his softened expression, the look in his eyes, the way he immediately stopped

"did- did you think i was gonna.. hit you?" he hesitates, asking gently, softly.

i look around, seeing everyone looking at me

it's the look on regulus's face that makes me crack.

i look back at sirius and just scoff, running out of the common room and to my dorm.

i lock the door and absolutely break down sobbing, finding it hard to breathe.

i'm curled up on the floor, arms wrapped around my knees, hiding my face in them.

suddenly i feel hands on me, gasping at the sudden touch, i look up seeing regulus's soft gaze on me.

"hey, hey, it's me you're okay, i'm here love" he says wrapping me into a hug.

he pulls me on his lap and i wrap my legs around his waist, causing him to stand up and sit us down on my bed

(sorry if that didn't make sense)

i nuzzle my head into his neck as he rubs my back

"let it out love, i'm here." he says and i try to find the words to speak.

i pull away from the hug slightly and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear

"i- he-" i try to explain but my words are being taken from me, like i'm being forbidded

"i know love, it's okay, i've got you."

my words being taken from me frustrates me even more, causing me to just lean into him and continue sobbing

he embraces me again, stroking my hair and whispering reassuring sweet nothings into my ear.

because of him, my sobs slowly turn into cries, and my cries slowly turn into sniffing and tears running down my face.

it was a start.

i pull away from our embrace again, scared to speak

i can't look at him, i know if i do i might break, so i keep my gaze shifted on my fingers, picking the skin off of them, a nervous habit.

he grabs my hands to stop me from picking them

"you don't have to say anything or just in general talk about it, not if you don't want to" he says and i sigh

"you have a right to know" i say shakily.

"can you look at me, please?" he asks and i hesitate

"i- i'm a mess" i sniffle, embarrassed.

his finger trails up to my chin, using it to tilt my head up.

the sight of my tear stained cheeks and red puffy nose breaks his heart

his eye contact, the look on his face, made me break, as i suspected

i tilt my head back down, letting out silent cries

"tu es en sécurité avec moi, je ne laisserai rien t'arriver" he says

even though i can't understand it, just the sound of his voice makes me feel better.

he uses his hands to cup my cheeks, making me look up again

he uses his thumb to wipe my tears

something that makes my heart swell, something i'm not used to

i watch him, no sign of disgust or shame on his face, just love, pure love.

"why?" i ask, him shifting his gaze back to my eyes.

"why what?" he replies

"why do you do this for me? why are you so nice to me?"

his heart shatters into a million pieces, expression softening even more

if that's even possible

"because i love you, and you deserve to be loved. i wish you could see that" he says

"i didn't and still don't wanna push you, but i notice things, i'm an observer. i notice your apologies and how you always seem scared around me, not scared of me, scared of yourself and what you might say, what i might do to you if you say the wrong thing" he starts to speak

i look down again as he continues to talk

"i just want you to know that i'd never do anything to hurt you, ever. you'll always be safe with me, no matter what you've heard before. i'd die before hurting you, and it breaks me to see you like this love" he says and another tear falls down my cheek

"i said it before, you have a right to know." i say with a shaky breath

"my last relationship.. it- it changed me. the guy i dated, he would use me and manipulate me and treated me more as his bitch then his girlfriend. he would- get really mad if i said or did something wrong, something he didn't like or something that embarrassed him. and sometimes when things got heated... he'd.. hit me and stuff.. and i knew it was wrong but it's what he made me think i deserved. so ever since then i've always felt like that's what i deserve, which is why i don't really know why you treat me the way you do, it's just very unfamiliar." i explain

he watches me, listening intently the whole time.

"i don't think i know what love is.." i mumble, ashamed.

"i didn't, for a long time. but eventually.. someone taught me."

he says and i look up at him confused

he smiles, rolling his eyes when i don't get the hint

"you, y/n, you taught me love." he says and my eyes widen

"me? i- i don't even know how to love someone i-" i start speaking but he stops me

"it's what you're doing, what you've been doing, you just never realized it. this whole time you've shown me love, it was unfamiliar because it was new. that unfamiliar feeling you've felt around me, it's love" he says

i take a second to think about his words.

thinking back to the feeling in my stomach when he'd talk to me, the way my heart fluttered when we'd hold hands, the way i longed for him when he wasn't around.

holy shit, i love regulus black.

"you- you're right" i say, realization clear in my tone

"i- i think i love you" i say, looking up at him

he smiles "i love you too darling, always have"

in that moment i knew i'd be alright, i knew i could give regulus my heart and trust him not to break it.

in that moment i knew, he taught me how to love.

TAGLIST:

@stargirlv0id @strniolo @annaisabookworm

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bloodbruise · 5 months

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wednesday snippet

thank you for the tags lovely mar @messymoony and chris @godsofwoes !!! writing has been a challenge this week, but i dug through my drafts to give u guys some random rosekiller mush <33

He's glancing over at Evan, and this, he thinks, this is the moment. The stage light bathes half his face, casting his skin a pretty lilac hue. And god. Evan's bopping his head to the music, a gentle smile playing on his lips. He's not even doing anything particularly special. Still, Barty can’t help but feel bested. Played at his own game. His heart has turned to mush, slipping down, down, down before he could even realize it. Too distracted looking the other way, and by the time he does—realize, that is—it's too far out of his reach. His heart has gone and attached itself to Evan. Parasitic, he thinks. Heart parasitic and feeding off Evan’s bright and his mirth his good. Evan can’t fix his problems, Barty knows that. It’s chemical, he briefly hears echoes of doctors discussing something about receptors and dysfunctional neurotransmitters. Which—fitting, for Barty. That not even the fucking chemicals in his brain could work properly. But he can’t help but think it would be nice—to have Evan. For him to be there when Barty is too listless to get out of bed. To have him be the first tinglings of feeling once the depression-induced, full-body novocaine shot starts to wear off. His stomach feels funny, like all his insides were scooped out and replaced with Sprite. Bubbling, sparking, and—yeah, maybe it’s not the most romantic metaphor, but he thinks it fits. It fits them.

np tags: @fromagony @bellaxisworld @ecstarry

#rosekiller #barty crouch jr #evan rosier

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stonedregulus · 2 years

Text

↓ ↓ master list ↓ ↓

⋆┊stand alone wips┊⋆

Never Let You Go

Rating: T Ship: James/Regulus Chapters: 1/? Word Count: 4.9k Summary:

Parent Trap but make it Jegulus. OR The time James and Regulus came up with a stupid idea so that they’d never have to see each other again.

Your Mess Is Mine

Rating: E Ship: James/Regulus, Barty/Regulus Chapters: 1/3 Word Count: 3.2k

Summary:

For Cece: Who may or may not have inspired this entire story by taking a bite out of a stranger’s banana on the train. Not a euphemism.

Until You’re in My Arms Again (Remember Me)

Rating: E Ship: Harry/Ron Chapters: 6/? Word Count: 32.6k Summary:

Three years after the Battle at Hogwarts, Ron and Harry are trying to figure out their feelings for each other without ruining their friendship.

Tell Me Pretty Lies

Rating: E Ship: Evan/Regulus/Barty/James, Sirius/Remus, Hugo/Noah Chapters: 3/15 Word Count: 24k Summary:

“James, I love you, but you’re a fucking idiot,” Remus said, crossing his arms.

⋆┊series wips┊⋆

Storm!verse:

With You I’d Dance in a Storm

Rating: E Ship: James/Regulus Chapters: 13/20 Word Count: 92.1k Summary:

James is like the sun. He shines down on everyone he meets, helping them feel warm and happy, helping them grow and thrive, and yet he has no idea how much that means to everyone he touches—he has no idea how dreary it gets when he's not there. But when the clouds shift, and he's able to shine through all the shit the universe has put in his way, he brings people back to life. Regulus wishes he was like that. But he's not. Not even close. No one needs him. — The reason sex ed was implemented at Hogwarts.

I Have Always Been A Storm

Rating: E Ship: Euphemia/Walburga Chapters: 1/3 Word Count: 1.4k Summary:

“Mum?” “You know…” she pauses, pursing her lips as if she’s thinking through her words carefully. “I knew someone once who made all the wrong choices. She made them out of self-preservation, not because she cared about anyone else. In the end, it only tore her from all the people she ever truly loved.” ☆★☆★☆ “I know you like I know my own mind, Walburga Black. So you can try to hide from me and your emotions all you want, but I still see them. I still see you. I know you.”

⋆┊completed multichapters┊⋆

Unexpected Visitors

Rating: E Ship: James/Regulus Chapters: 6 Word Count: 9.6K Summary:

Walburga and Orion show up for Christmas. Regulus aims to please his gaslighting mother while also attempting to stand up for himself. — Walburga finally rises from her chair seething as James sneaks past them to join the kids in the garage, “I have done nothing but love you and want what’s best for both of you, but you think I’m so hard on you! You have no idea what it’s like to grow up not good enough for your own mother. I may have been hard on you both but it was out of love!” “Oh? We don’t know what it’s like to never be good enough for our own mother? I’m sorry, did you blackout for our entire childhood?”

⋆┊oneshots┊⋆

Prove It

Rating: E Ship: Regulus/James Word Count: 7.8k Summary:

“What are you doing here?” A voice asked. It was rough and raw, as if the person had been recovering from a cold, and even though they were clearly at an advantage holding James at gunpoint, there was something gentle and curious about it. “Just doing my job,” James responded easily, attempting to turn his head slightly to get a look at the person holding the gun against his head, but the metal stayed pressed firmly against his temple, not allowing him to move more than an inch.

Something of Mine

Rating: M Ship: Barty/Evan Word Count: 5.3k Summary:

“You didn’t want to get clean for him?” he asks. “There’s only one person I’d ever get clean for.” Oh, fuck off. Fuck completely off. “Don’t say that to me,” Evan says because the only other way he can think to respond is to scream directly into a pillow, which he can’t really do at the moment. “I’m serious.” “You don’t get to do this, Barty.” “Why not?” “It’s mean. You’re being mean,” Evan’s voice hitches in his throat, and he can feel hot tears building in his eyes

Baby, Kiss It Better

Rating: M Ship: Darco/Harry Word Count: 7.7k Summary:

HD Sudsfest 2022 Prompt: Character A needs help from Character B, their physical therapist/sports therapist, to take an ice bath. Character A is extremely reluctant/complain-y about it. 🫧🫧🫧 Harry has been avoiding his team’s athletic healer for five years now, but a broken ankle requires him to ask for help from his former boarding school enemy, Draco. Has Draco changed? Have Harry’s feelings about him?

I Stayed There

Rating: M Ship: Barty/Evan Word Count: 2.1k Summary:

“I can’t lose you again.” & “Don’t raise your fucking voice at me.” + Rosekiller — It’s like he’s been transported back in time to that place he tends to haunt when he’s left alone with nothing but his thoughts. When Evan told Barty he’d found someone. When he told Barty he was happy. When Evan left him there in that restaurant. When Barty realized he’d been living in a fantasy of his own design thinking the boy he’d loved, loved him back.

Sorry About the Blood in Your Mouth

Rating: E Ship: James/Regulus Word Count: 1.7k Summary:

Regulus kills Lily and then he and James fuck covered in her blood. That’s literally it.

Broom Closets

Rating: M Ship: Regulus/James Word Count: 626 Summary:

James and Regulus find an empty broom closet

Unobservant As Ever

Rating: T Ship: Sirius/Remus/James Word Count: 471 Summary:

Sirius, Remus, and James are chaperones for the Yule Ball.

Snow

Rating: M Ship: Teddy/James II Word Count: 1.6k Summary:

James and Teddy meet for a blind date

Raw Geggs

Rating: M Ship:Sirius/Remus Word Count: 1.1k Summary:

Wolfstar and toddler Harry make Christmas cookies.

Onesie

Rating: M Ship: Sirius/Remus, James/Regulus Word Count: 840 Summary:

Regulus and James have a surprise for Sirius and Remus.

It Was Only A Kiss

Rating: T Ship: Harry/Ron Word Count: 834 Summary:

Ron & Harry celebrate New Years Eve

#masterlist #links

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euphorial-docx · 2 years

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a snippet of my jegulus b&a au 🩸

(tw for violent imagery and referenced murder!)

Four hours later at a gas station, Regulus and Sirius were eating their breakfast, which consisted of tiny, pre-packaged donuts and cheap coffee. Regulus could hardly keep the sugar and caffeine down.

At one point, Sirius carefully asked, “How are you feeling?”

Regulus didn’t know how to take that question. What part of him was Sirius asking? Was he asking about his mind, or his heart, or his body?

“Fine,” Regulus grumbled as he took a sip of the coffee. It was bitter and watery, and the donuts were too sweet.

“You lost someone, Reg. You’re not fine,” Sirius said in a gentle tone, a sympathetic one, as if it wasn’t Regulus that dug his nails into his own lover’s chest and tore the skin from bone.

“Have I ever been?” questioned Regulus, coffee mixing with the blood sitting in his gut. At least he couldn’t taste the iron anymore.

Sirius didn’t have to speak for Regulus to know the horrifying truth: Regulus is not fine, and he has never been fine, and he never will be. He’s been sick from the moment he took his first breath.

The first time Regulus tasted flesh, he was a baby. He bit his nanny so hard that she bled. But the first time he remembered tasting it, he was fifteen.

Fifteen, and a boy sat with him at lunch and talked to him. Davey was nice— too nice, perhaps. He liked Davey, and as he did with all the people he liked, he killed him. Davey was the first of many, and Barty was one of more.

As long as there were people in the world, and as long as he was alive, Regulus would continue to leave bodies in his wake.

#tw cannibalism #letting y’all know regulus didnt kill james!#james is very much alive and (debatably) well!#fic: you want it darker (we kill the flame)#regulus black #jegulus #starchaser #james potter #james x regulus

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saintlupin · 1 year

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2 anos 13 for the ask game

a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom:

NOOOOO 🥲 this is so triggering coming from dr*rry fandom because people will literally go to war over this one. but tbh i’m going to explain to you why remus would only bottom in very specific instances, because i don’t think he would never bottom, but, i do think his…..*cough* wolf instincts would lead to him having a preference for topping. i think sirius is the only person he genuinely enjoys bottoming for because he trusts sirius a lot and to him it’s a vulnerable thing he only wants to experience with someone he genuinely loves—but, i do think the closer it is to the full moon, the more the wolf’s possessive side comes out and has to establish dominance over his, ha, mate. after the full moon, remus needs a lot of tender loving which i think is how sirius likes to top. he’s very soft and gentle and soothing and remus cries during these moments and so does sirius. i think sirius likes it rough but doesn’t like to be rough (Trauma) and i think remus’ wolf-y side is rougher on instinct. i think remus needs sirius to be gentle with him and sirius needs to see himself as capable of being gentle—it’s all becomes very desperate and loving it’s genuinely disgusting ok i’m done.

worst blorboficiation

i’m sorry to the marauders fandom and the skittles stans, but Barty Crouch (pause) ✨ JR ✨ and i don’t want to come off as condescending or rude, but i just don’t Get It™️ he’s canonically an avid Voldemort supporter and i, personally, would prefer to see that explored—specifically in regards to his aptitude for teaching that we see in GOF and his unwavering loyalty to voldemort’s cause at the same time. i suppose it’s a question of what that means for his personality and i want to dig my grimey hands in it and eat it. but i see him portrayed as this sort of…neurotic, outlandish archetype and i feel like there’s a depth to him i haven’t seen that creates a dissonance between myself and his fanon characterization. tbh, i would LOVE to hear headcanons about him and learn more about the fandom’s interpretation so that i can hopefully see where people are coming from so if anyone wants to share feel free to hit me up!

🔥 choose violence ask game 🔥

#tzi answers #i thought about this way too hard…#pls ask more and help me awake 🥲#ty for asking anon :)

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sillydg · 3 years

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“A Walker knows, when a Walker knows” Part two. Bartie's choice.

Book: The royal romance

Pairing: Drake Walker X F!MC (Riley Herreld)

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 5.000

Series Summary: Drake meets Riley. But not in the usual kind of way. Fate interferes when Riley’s supposed to be working on that big Bachelor night.

She gets drawn to Cordonia in another way. But what happens when a Workaholic, meet a Walker come together? Will they provide a Christmas miracle and get over their own love skepticism?

Or can we turn on ‘Love actually’ after this series to make us feel good again?

One way to find out!

Part one. Faith happens

Part two. Summary: Also Riley's struggling with a handsome stranger in the distance and Drake finds out about Bartie's choice.

A/N: English is not my first language. Please excuse me for any grammar/word interpretation mistakes.

A/N: I'm late with everything. So we keep up the Christmas spirit and for everyone who reads this (and ofcourse everyone who don't...) I wish you all well in 2022!

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be tagged for this series

Category: Over the top a bit predictable Christmas fluff, with an edge.

Warnings: Memorizing a sick mom, swearing, references to sex. Please do not read if you’re under 18.

CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS

A Walker knows, when a Walker knows.

Bartie's choice

Still Sunday, five days before Christmas. Riley.

What the hell is going on?

Riley's mind's racing back and forth. One moment she's talking to Tim, one of her best friends who works at the local sawmill, and the next she finds her eyes glued to this gorgeous stranger in the distance.

She desperately tries to rationalize her way out of whatever it is that's happening, but there seems no way to determine why she's so intrigued by him. Why there is no possible way for her to tear her eyes away from the man with his brown ragged winter jacket, comfortable jeans, messy dark hair, and some rough winter boots.

Do I know him? He feels so familiar, but I never forget a name... There has to be a logical explanation. A rational, completely obvious explanation! One that makes all the sense in the world, one that makes you go like, 'Right. Duh. Obvi.' Ripped out of thought and her heart skips a beat the moment a most charming smirk appears on his face. And she can't help it. Her face naturally matches his with a broad one of her own.

"Riley? Hey, are you okay?" Tim looks up from the clipboard that Riley's been holding for both of them to look at. A minute ago, the two of them were looking at tomorrow's schedule to figure out when he could deliver an order and the next... Well, he was afraid that she might start to drool for some reason.

He whispers again, "Riley... Are you okay?" But there seems to be no way of reaching her. And right at the moment, he wants to follow her gaze into the distance, the unknown man breaks eye contact to look at the vendor behind him. Riley snaps out of it, blinks, and shakes her head in a desperate attempt to clear her mind from the fog. "What just happened?"

Tim lays a hand on her shoulder and she looks at him with a flustered look on her face. "Mhh?"

"Hey, there you are," Tim says with a gentle smile, "I completely lost you for a sec there, Riles. What happened?"

She rubs her forehead with a grin on her face, "I have no idea. My mind is racing right now. I'm confused, fascinated... This is it. I think I'm officially going crazy. Wrap me up, let me hug myself and a one-way ticket to the madhouse please!"

Tim blinks, "What are you talking about? And why are you all flustered..." He narrows his eyes, "Wait! Are you nervous? Is making bad jokes what you do when you're nervous?"

"Tssk," and Riley snorts, "I'm not nervous. You're nervous. I'm calm and collected like always."

"No, you're absolutely not. What happened? I've never seen you like this! You're usually a Jedi when it comes to your emotions."

Riley puts up an awkward smile and she starts shifting at her place, "As I said, I don't know what happened. Don't worry okay? It's just been a looong day." And she stifles a yawn.

"Soooo, it's safe for me to say that you sat down exactly zero seconds today and probably haven't eaten much?"

"You know," and she puts up a charming smirk, "I think the moment I start taking breaks and eat full meals during these crazy December weeks is the moment that you need to start worrying."

"Riles..." He groans, "You promised!"

"I know, I know... But I didn't find the time between King Liam and Queen Olivia visiting the Market, trying to keep everyone happy behind the stands, solving problems, confiscating fire breathing material, and already planning things for tomorrow in the back of my head because we're faaaar behind on preparations on decor for Friday's play."

"Wait, what? Confiscating fire breathing materials?"

She chuckles, "Just a hint, search Maxwell Beaumont from top till bottom when he tries to enter your sawmill."

"Noted... and nice try Riley. How about we get back to the point where you promise to at least try to take better care of yourself."

"I honestly did try, but I also knew when I took this job two weeks ago that it would be kind of crazy..."

"You can say quite impossible."

She chuckles, "Nah. A challenge! A great adventurous challenge of little sleep and a non-existent personal life. But it's totally worth it. Look around you!" She glances happily around, "The weather is cold, but not too cold. And the soft snowflakes. The kids are happy and laughing and singing..." Her eyes fall once again on the handsome stranger in the distance the moment he receives his hot beverages. What is it about him?

"Are you kidding me? Again?" And her eyes snap back to Tim who looks at her with his arms folded and his brows high. "Who are you looking at?

But she drags him away at his arm before he even gets the chance to check out whom she was staring at. "You know, a walk might be good. It keeps the blood pumping."

"Wow," and he barely manages to stay on his two feet the moment he gets dragged away. "Now you're just acting weird!" He matches her pace after stabilizing, but can't help to glance over his shoulder once more time. What was happening over there?

"Tim! You've known me for four years now. How is me acting weird still a surprise to you?"

"Because," he points out, "This is definitely a different weird than the usual Riley weird."

"Usual Riley weird?" She grins, "What's that suppose to mean?"

"Just non-emotional driven weird. Weird because you're weird, weird. Not weird because you don't know how to handle nerves or other feelings weird, since you always manage to keep your emotions under control and show nothing but happiness and cheeriness up to an extremely annoying level." He snorts and shakes his head, "You know for someone who's always encouraging others to tell what they think and feel, you're weirdly not comfortable with doing that yourself."

"I'm just a," and she nudges him with a smile, "Weird combination between my mom and dad. Can't help it. On one side I'm sensitive, I level easy with people, which is my mom's, but on the other hand, I'm my dad who's rational, private, loves to be in control of her own emotions and I listen rather than I talk. That combined actually works very well."

"Yeah, for others," Tim sighs, "But we all need someone to listen at some point, who looks out for you and tell you to go to bed instead of helping cleaning tonight." He stops short and looks at her, "Please go home after the event is over. A hot shower, some food, and off to bed for a long night. You need it."

"No, what I need is for us to determine when you're stopping by tomorrow to deliver the order." She starts strolling again while ruffling through her clipboard, "Tomorrow's schedule must be here somewhere."

He groans as he falls into step with her, "You know. You're unbelievably stubborn."

"Whaaat," she grins looking up from her clipboard, "Me stubborn? Naaaah. It's not like you've been reminding me every day for the past four years that you find my stubbornness my most pleasant feature."

He throws his hands up in the air, "Unbelievable."

"My middle name. Now can we get back to..." And she smacks her forehead, "I forgot that I still need to do my hour to hour schedule for tomorrow. Can I just give you a call in the morning?"

"Dork," and he nudges her, "Of course. I will have your order ready and we'll talk in the morning."

"You're an absolute Angel!" At that moment her phone buzzes and she takes it out of her jacket to check her messages. She has received one from Mable. Her bestie from day one, her co-worker and producer, basically her bright right hand in everything.

She taps that she's on her way before turning back to Tim, "I'm sorry, but I've got to go! Mission's tutorial on how to make the perfect s'more' has a go, Maxwell is searching for Drake as we speak and I need to go set up the little set I came up with!" She smiles, "It's going to be so amazing!"

"Wow, wow," and Tim raises his brows, "Are we talking about Drake Walker?"

Riley blinks at the unexpected question and sudden seriousness in his voice, "Yes, I'm sorry is there a problem?"

"Only that he's Bachelor numero uno in Cordonia since the whole 'things are great' hype. Ladies man and a player at heart."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't do Cordonian gossip, remember? The only things I've heard are the things from Bartie's stories and besides, he's an adult. He's entitled to his own decisions, just like us."

"I'm just saying that you have to be careful around him. I don't like to see you get hurt."

Riley looks at Tim's genuine concerned expression and she lays her hand on his arm, "Hey, I really appreciate you're concern, but you don't have to go all Big Bro protective over me! You know I can take care of myself."

Tim turns pale at her words and immediately looks the other way. Big bro?

"Tim, what's wrong?" She tries to find his eyes, but he keeps averting hers, "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no of course not." He casually tries to brush his feeling of, but the pit in his stomach remains, "You know, you're right. It's not like you seemed remotely interested in a guy these past four years, how big is the chance that you fall for him anyway?"

Riley narrows her eyes, "Okay. You're the one acting weird now Tim. What's going on?"

"Nothing! Really, nothing is going on. You know I think that I'm going to work on your order tonight down at the sawmill. Don't forget to give me a call tomorrow morning, yeah?" And he turns on his heels.

"Wow, wow... wait!" But he already disappeared in the crowd, leaving her confused behind. What just happened? Her phone buzzes again and knowing that there is nothing she can do right now about the situation with Tim or whatever it was that happened earlier with the guy in the distance, she decides to focus on what she can control right now. Hopefully making Bartie's night and she makes her way to the chosen spot at the edge of the near Forrest.

Meanwhile. Mable and Savannah.

Mable looks down at her phone, "Riley's on her way to set up camp, right across the big lawn at the edge of the woods and I bet that Maxwell will find Drake any minute now."

Savannah smiles proudly with her eyes fixated on her little miracle, "He's going to be so excited. All of this is already amazing..." And she motions around the little cozy spot that Riley created.

There is a small campfire in the middle with some wooden benches around it and a big table at the other side filled with milk chocolate, graham crackers, and baskets full of Marshmallows.

She sighs, "Look at the fire, the lights... all of that combined with the snow. I mean the Christmas Market itself is a show stopper, but this..." She glances at Bartie who's completely in his element. He walks around to help the kids and their parents create a perfect s'more. "This is what he really wanted. Sharing the fun he has with Drake with his classmates and other kids. And making that video is going to be the cherry on top. How does she come up with these things?"

Mable chuckles, "As Riley would say, blame the kids for being such an inspiration. In this case, inspiration came after Riley told Bartie that she never made or eaten a s'more before, Bartie told her that he wished he could do something for the kids who also never had eaten one and didn't know how to make it, and voila. Inspiration."

Savannah smiles, "She goes great lengths for these kids, doesn't she?"

"Wow, you can say that again. She's passionate and stubborn up to a workaholic level. There is no stopping her, believe me. All of us tried!"

"Sounds like she's as stubborn as my big brother." Savannah wiggles her brows and nudges Mable, "You know, maybe we're in for something interesting tonight!"

"Ohhh, I like where this is going," chuckles Mable, "Interesting how?"

"Well.... Their both passionate, stubborn, loyal... independent, and strong. The only thing that's going to be the coinflip here is that she's cheery before nine o'clock, playful and teasingly, and he's none of that combined with the fact that he finds all of that usually hard to digest. That and the Walker shield that he has going on."

Mable chuckles once again, "Well, we both know that she already broke through one Walker shield." And she nods towards Bartie.

"In one hour on the first day that is," grins Savannah, "Haha. You know, just putting this out there. They're either engaged within the week or they are going to clash. You know, maybe both... Passion does weird stuff to people."

"Engaged within the week?" Mable starts laughing, "Apart from the fact that Riles is waaaaay too rational for that, he would also have to deal with even a more rational force called, mister Herreld. I met him about three times now and I think he's capable of murder when a man would ask for her hand within the decade, let alone within the week. Not one romantic bone to be found."

"Well," And Savannah nudges Mable, "How about we just hope for a Christmas miracle then?"

And then both of them burst out in laughter...

"Yeah... We wish," and Mable wipes away some tears from laughter, "Ohh I so wish."

Meanwhile. Drake.

Drake strides through the crowd with determined steps. He just found out about Bertie’s activity involving fire and since Maxwell has been with him all day, it was a goddam miracle that no one has gotten hurt today. Because, even though It’s been 38 days without 'Maxwell accidents', the last one where he burnt down half of the maze at the palace is still fresh in his memory. He paces, looking franticly around him as he hears a sudden voice. "Drake!" And he hears heavy breathing, "Drake wait up! Jeez, you walk fast man."

"Not now Max," he huffs, "I'm looking for..." He freezes at his pace as he realizes to whom he's talking and immediately turns around. Maxwell bumps full frontal into him since he didn't expect Drake to stop. Drake steadies him at the shoulders, squeezing him a bit while talking sternly. "Maxwell Beaumont, Please tell me that everyone and everything is okay and that someone else extremely responsible is keeping an eye on Bartie."

Maxwell gulps at the tone in his voice, "Everyone and Everything is okay. Sav is with Bartie."

"She's already there? But..."

"I know, I know, she promised you to give you a call. But I insisted on giving you a VIP special pick-up service."

He sighs, "Of course you did."

"Oh come on. Isn't this a lot better?" Maxwell wiggles excitedly, "It's just what Besties do for each other Drake."

Drake groans at the way too excited Maxwell, "Well, at least you're away from the fire."

"That's the spirit," He clasps against Drake's shoulder, which earns him a death glare. He squeaks, "You know what, I think it's best if we start walking."

"You think?"

Maxwell gulps and the two men start walking, "Soooooo Drake, how did things go today with the preparations?"

"Great!" He grins as the thought of Bartie staying with him for a few nights is turning his mood instantly 180 degrees, "I even got an official Family week planner for this week. I've never been more ready for civil life."

Maxwell chuckles, "Wel that's a sentence I never thought I would hear Drake say."

"Don't get your hopes up Beaumont. It's only for a few days. I mean we are going to hit the bar after Liam's early Christmas party right?" He wiggles his brows at Maxwell who nods in confirmation, "Absolutely, it's our tradition to drink away Liam's desperate attempts to set you up with one of the single women who 'just happen to show up' out of nowhere! Oh, and what about me coming by tomorrow night? Is that still on?"

"Yes! I actually wanted to talk to you about that," Drake groans as he is not sure how to ask Maxwell without causing way too much high-pitched sounds. But after figuring that there is no way to avoid it, he says "I really want to buy a Christmas tree tomorrow with some decorations to decorate it with and I was wondering if you want to come with me tomorrow afternoon? I mean I don't really care about mixing and matching, but he's used to Savannah's perfect tree..."

Maxwell squeaks highly and enthusiastically, "OMG! BEST DAY EVER! But are you sure only a tree? I mean we can go full Christmassy, with little statues, train rails, and a little village, fluffy blankets, and pillows!! Ohhh last time I went to the store I saw this really cute fluffy Christmas baby deer... I think I've got a picture somewhere!"

Drake flinches at the noise, "Yes, I don't need all kinds of trinkets everywhere, and what is up with everybody and fluffy things anyway?"

"Loooooook!" He shows him the picture of the babydeer together with some murmuring, "Cute, Cute..."

"No."

"Fine," But suddenly horror fills his face, "But I can't! Noo! I promised Riley to help her with painting decor tomorrow and the rest of the week for that matter besides working on the dancing parts." He falls silent but then his eyes grow wide out of excitement. "Ooh ooooor, what if you're also helping out this week? She can use all the help she can get and well I don't have to feel guilty about leaving her all alone tomorrow afternoon."

He shrugs, "Sure, I have the week off anyway. And we both know that I wouldn't be able to sit still for long anyway."

"This is going to be the best week ever!! Buying Christmas stuff, helping Riley out! Best Buds Dreamteam! Up top!" And he sticks up his hand for Drake to tap it, but Drake rolls his eyes. "Ground rules to make sure you make it out alive. No small talk, jokes, smiling, touching, dancing, and singing abomination of Christmas songs."

"Jeez, Jolly!"

"And no annoying Christmas terms."

"Whatever you want best bud in the whole universe! This week is going to be awesome nevertheless." He lets out a high-pitched sound and Drake pinches the bridge of his nose as he already regrets everything that happened the minute before.

Drake groans, "Well that's to be seen." What did I get myself into?

"Oh come on! A whole week of building, painting, and handling sharp objects together!"

"Sounds like a whole week of making sure that you don't lose fingers or even worse! He frowns, "How did you manage to survive this week anyway?"

He grins, "Riley! Ohh. are you nervous about meeting her?"

"Why would I be nervous?"

"Because you know... you're Drake. You don't want to make a whole grumpy first impression at Bartie's favorite teacher right?"

"As head of the Royal Guard, I meet new people all the time, Max. I'm not that helpless little teenage boy anymore who tries to push away people with his grumpiness. I'm going to be fine."

"If you say so, bud! But I'm telling you. Just prepare yourself, because she's nothing like one of those women you've met. She's a force and she can be a lot."

"I'm used to seeing you every day, Beaumont. I like to think that I can handle a lot." His words turn into whispers the moment he sees a kid walking with s'mores in his hand. A smile appears on his face and his eyes start to twinkle in excitement, "Nooooo... Did he choose..."

Maxwell gets equally excited, "Oh yes!"

Drake takes off, fast walking as he follows the kids coming from one particular direction. He paces through the crowd and stops short at the edge of a cozy area. The laughter of kids who are sitting together with their parents around the fire holding a stick with Marshmallows above it. Bartie's completely in his element. He walks around to help both parents and kids, even the ones he doesn't know.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" And Savannah wraps an arm around him.

Drake nods as he is unable to speak and soon he gets spotted by Bartie.

"Uncle!" And Bartie jumps into his arms for a big hug.

"Hi, bud," and Drake gives him a sweet peck on the cheek, "I can't believe you choose to make s'mores!"

Bartie smiles broadly, "What else could I choose? I love it! Ohh do you want to meet my best friend?"

Drake grins, "Absolutely," and he sets him down on his own feet.

"Lucy, Lucy! This is my uncle, Drake!" And Drake gets pulled away with a broad smile on his face. He had heard a lot of stories about Bartie's best friend Lucy, who's also the co-star in the Christmas play.

"Oh hi, Bartie's uncle Drake!" A little girl greets him cheerily. He sinks through his knees to give her a hand, "Hi Lucy."

She smiles, "Every Monday all the kids in our class get jealous when he tells about the adventures the two of you go on."

A broad smile appears on Drake's face as he glances over to Bartie who nods proudly. Lucy holds up a s'more, "And Bartie learned us how to make these! They're so yummy!"

Drake looks at the perfect roasted marshmallow between the crackers, "Wow, look at that Bartie! We got ourselves an expert. It's roasted perfectly! You must have done it a thousand times already?"

Lucy chuckles, "NOOOOO, the first time! All thanks to my bestie here!" And she teasingly ruffles over Bartie's woolen cap. Drake pulls Bartie into a hug, whispering in his ear, "I'm so proud of you bud! It's perfect!"

Bartie beams, "Well. That's all because you taught me and," he shifts a bit nervously as he searches for his mother's eyes who sticks up her thumb. Drake cocks up his brows, "What is it bud?"

"I wanted to ask you something. Miss Riley asked all of us to make a Christmas Wish and she had an idea to make mine come true and it involves you!"

Drake grins, "Me?"

Bartie nods, "I told her that I wanted to share the love with everyone in Cordonia because I've got so much of that coming from everyone around me. And she asked me what love would look like if I would be able to hold it in my hands. I immediately thought of a s'mores."

"So, you guys set this up?"

He nods again, "Yes, but she noticed that I was a little bit sad that I couldn't share it with anyone, but it's kind of hard to make s'mores for everyone right?"

"Sure, yeah."

"So miss Riley thought that it might be fun to make a 'how to build the most perfect s'more' tutorial video for everyone to see. All my friends can watch it later when they forget and I'm not there and even kids from around the world can see and learn and they can have just as awesome moments as we share when we're camping! Because I really like those moments!"

Drake's tearing up right now and he swallows hard. He feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to Savannah who's tearing up as well. "Told you that you are doing a great job as an uncle." A gentle smile appears on Drake's face and he turns back to Bartie.

"So do you want to do make a video together?"

"Of Course bud," and he quickly wipes away an escaped tear, before pulling Bartie into another hug, "I love you little one."

"I love you too!" And he looks over to his mother, "Are we ready to go?"

"We have to wait a bit longer!" Savannah smiles and turns to Drake, "Riley headed five minutes ago to set up a small camp, maybe you can see if she needs some help? It's over the lawn at the edge of the forest."

He nods and ruffles Bartie over his head, "See you soon bud."

He gets up on his feet and together with Savannah, he walks back to Mable. "I'm really glad that you want to do this, brother."

He shrugs and he glances over to Bartie who's back to helping Lucy with toasting another set of Marshmallows, "I do anything for that kid." And he slings an arm around her shoulder, "You know that right?"

"I do... I do... But you really need to be on your way, Drake."

He narrows his eyes, "Is there something you're having up your sleeve, sis?"

"Me? Tssk, no! What would that be?"

"Well, the thing is that I expected at least a dozen 'hands off' speeches since everyone seems to be taken aback by miss Herreld."

Savannah chuckles, "Oh she can take of herself, don't worry about that. But let me say this. Touch her and I make you marry her." And a mischief grin appears on her face, "So please do touch her. She's amazing so if you decide to get slapped in the face by faith this is the moment. I would not oppose having her as a sister."

Drake rolls his eyes, "Dream on sis. And faith better has a quick uppercut when it wants to strike, because I'm not planning on being hit anytime soon."

She grins, "Whatever you say big bro of mine." And with a smile, he moves towards the lawn to search for Riley to help as his phone rings. While walking he takes his phone out of his pocket. He frowns and takes the call, "Hey Li, what's up?"

Meanwhile. Riley

Riley wiggles on the beat of 'rocking around the Christmas tree' coming out of her wireless earplugs as she lays the still wrapped-up tent, chairs, firewood, and camera in place as a preparation to set up camp.

She takes a deep breath and looks down at the things spread out before her. It's been a little over five years since she last went camping, and even the fact that she bought everything new four years ago when she came to Corndonia is not preventing the forming lump in her throat at all the memories.

Her dad didn't like it, but it was her favorite thing to do with her mom.

Making a campfire, sleeping under the stars in summer and in winter the two of them in the tent.

Riley never managed to sit still for long, but she and her mom could talk all night while staring into a fire. It brought peace and quiet in her head.

The most wonderful memories were created, but also difficult memories. Because as the last wish her mom took her out camping, and... She once again takes a deep breath as she pushes the memory away. The image of her mom being so ill. Lying next to her in the grass while staring at the stars with still that damned smile on her face. She feels her eyes fill up with tears. No crying. Happy thoughts, Riley. Happy thoughts. She was strong, you need to be strong too. She takes her phone out of her pocket and checks her music list.

Music has always been a big part of her life. It was never quiet at home, either the radio was playing or her mother was singing and dancing. It's in her blood, but so personal that she doesn't share her dancing and singing with everyone. Her mom however loved to perform, she was always the center of attention. I wish I had her guts.

Where her mom was always drawn to pianos at party's and started singing and playing without even asking, the only one for whom she sings is her dad. Every year at Christmas as he once again tells about him meeting her mom, how he fell in love with her. How he practically hated the song, found it overrated, cheesy before he heard her sing it.

She scrolls through her music list and her thumb freezes above the song. Happy memories, happy feelings.

She presses play and some familiar bells take her immediately back to the Christmas's where her mom dances through the room while singing her lungs out, leaving her dad time after time captivated.

Without thinking, she starts dancing towards her tent and starts building it, while she loses herself in the cheesy music. Her feet are moving through the snow, hands working while her voice fills the cold night air. And for a second she's back in her old living room, dancing with her mom.

"I don't want a lot for Christmas

Theeeeeeeeere is just one thing IIII neeeeeed

I don't care about the presents... underneath the Christmas tree

I just want you for my own

More than you could ever know

Make my wish cooooome truuuuuueeeeeee

Aaaaaaaaall I want for Christmaaaaaaaas iiiiiiiiis you.....

Yeah....

I Don't want a lot...

Meanwhile. Drake.

Drake's on the phone with Liam as he moves over the lawn. His eyes are fixated on the snow under his feet to avoid falling. The snow is untouched except for the one set of footprints, which makes it easy to find where to go.

"Hi, Li, What's up? If you're calling about the photos you've sent today... I'm not interested."

"Hi, Drake! And even though it's a kind of a bummer to hear, it's not why I'm calling."

Drake cocks up his brows in surprise, "Is everything alright?"

"Depends, are you still on the Christmas Market?"

Drake glances over his shoulders, "Technically walking away from it... Why?"

"Oh good. Calling you right in time! After visiting we got these great gift baskets today, with all kinds of homemade goods. But..." Drake can hear how Liam hesitates for a second, "But the cookies are already gone and I wanted to ask Riley if she had any left because they're freaking delicious."

"Wow," blinks Drake, "They're even worth a careful swear from our king?"

"Yeah, look. I tried to call Riley myself. But she's not picking up."

"Wow, wow," and he stops short, "You've got her number?" He hears Liam swallow at the other end of the line, "You know. For business purposes."

"Right, and Olivia thinks about it that way too?"

"Ehm..."

"Seriously Liam? She doesn't know, does she now?"

"She's really great, don't judge me. Somehow I've got the feeling that I've missed an opportunity, but I'm happy with Liv. Absolutely!"

"Wait, what did you say? Drake blinks at his words. What is up with everyone?

"Forget it, just ask about those cookies okay?"

Drake rolls his eyes and starts walking again, "I'm just about to meet her for the first time Li, I'm not going to..." He falls silent as he suddenly hears something. Is that singing?

He looks up to a small campsite where he sees a woman singing and dancing while building a tent.

"Drake, are you there? What do I hear? Something sounds really good, is there live music?"

"Li, I've got to go!"

"But..." Drake hangs up the phone before Liam can say anything else.

His eyes locked on the woman dancing in the distance. That's the same long red coat, the same scarf, the same woolen cap, her long dark hair dancing on her shoulders while her moves are captivating.

Oh no. Oh no. No. No.

It can't be, right?

Is running an option?

Bartie...

No...

Fuck!

Part three: Part three. When Riley finally met Drake.

Taglist in comments, please let me know if you want to be added or removed!

#drake x mc #drake walker #choices fic writers creations #choices royal romance #fics of the week #choices trr #the royal romance #fanfic

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aithusarosekiller · 2 years

Note

HA enough of the sap how about a snippet cause i just have to heheh

and in this moon drunk haze, basking in the soft yellow glow of the fridge light that spills so carelessly across the kitchen tiles, evan feels as though it might all be alright.

he’s still here, he’s alive, and barty’s holding him like he’s made of glass, and perhaps he is, perhaps they all are, just specks of sand and earth and stardust shaped into position, moulded by the hand of whatever the hell it is that rolls the dice of fate, who doles out the cards in life’s circadian gamble.

because here, right now, with the gentle sway of the tune regulus hums, and the grounding weight of barty’s hands drawing absent-minded patterns down his spine, his eyes close, and the dull ache in his ribs begins to melt away, and he allows himself to believe, if just for a moment, that it might all be alright.

see, i promise i’m not always cruel :) -jr

JR?! HOW CAN YOU SCARE ME LIKE THAT AND THEN GIVE ME HOPE

BUT IK IT WILL BE SAD

BUT AAA

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george-fabian-weasley · 3 years

Text

the mad hatter — g. w.(chapter 3)

Summary: You had found clear evidence that showed George as The Mad Hatter. And it had ruined you more than you thought.

Words: 2,771 words

Warnings: TW death, TW murder, TW poisoning, TW injuries, thriller, angst, fem!reader, husband!george, dad!george, serialkiller!george, sadism, bickering, mentions of sharp objects,

Disclaimer: I'm sorry for the 3 hours of delay, guys! My Internet wasn't working that well lately! Anyway, here's chapter 3! Prepare for some tissues, because this is pretty angsty. Reblogs and Comments are Highly Appreciated!

the mad hatter masterlist!

masterlist! | general taglist! | buy me a coffee!

“... Recorders?”

Inside the big drawer of George’s, were neatly placed recorders. You were confused, what the hell was he doing with these recorders in the first place?

Each of those recorders was labeled with initials you didn’t understand, along with them were numbers, six numbers underneath the letters. You reached for one, the top of the stack.

‘D. B.’

‘120121’

“DB…? What’s DB?” You muttered to yourself, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You tried to wreck your mind, thinking hard. There was a small voice in your mind, telling you the answer. Slowly it got louder and louder and louder until it’s the only thing you heard.

‘David Bush. 12th January 2021.’

The first victim of The Mad Hatter.

Without you knowing it, your fingers had grasped the recorder and pressed it to play. For the first few seconds, you only heard the static noises of the wheels inside the recorder turning.

“Date. 12th January. Subject. David Bush.”

It was George. This is his voice. But at the same time, it’s not. The voice you knew was gentle, understanding, and loving. This voice, however… was rough, deep and… and murderous.

George was breathing heavily on the tape as if he had exercised after a long while. You could hear him trying to regulate his breathings with the deep breaths he made. “I… I’ve stopped doing this for a while. It was a perfect shame that I did,” George huffed out a breath that you assumed a smile rose on his lips.

“Because I’ve forgotten how thrilling it was.”

It was an understatement; the fact that goosebumps ran up your spine heavily as you heard him. What… What was he talking about? What is the thrill? Please, please please, don’t let it be what’s in your mind. Please—

“Subject was held at knifepoint when I gave him those lovely macarons I bought from the newly opened bakery. Only I’ve put my own special ingredient in, just for him,” George’s voice cut your train of thoughts off. The way he held his words was delicate, like a piece of paper shaped into a knife kind of delicate. You could hear from his voice that he was smiling, he was smiling big.

You could imagine him at that moment, on the 12th of January, sitting in his workspace holding the recorder in his hand and let out all those words… purposely recorded.

“I’ve only tried my luck when I gave him those, and it seems my luck has not yet run out. Because a few moments later, he couldn’t breathe on his own. He couldn’t breathe, and as I watched him fight for a huff of air, excitement bubbles inside of me. The thrill, the nicotine of it all was, exhilarating. Addicting. I didn’t know why I stopped doing this in the first place.”

You felt like throwing up. He didn’t have to say what he was doing, or what was the special ingredient. Everything clicked in perfectly. Way too perfectly.

It’s him. George is The Mad Hatter.

You took a shaky deep breath, trying to digest everything. The Mad Hatter… was your own husband. The man that you have wed. The man that you have born a child with. The man that you’re in love with. You felt your heart ramming up your chest, the palpitations were fast and so unnatural, you felt like you would have a heart attack if it continued for a few minutes. You ran a hand through your hair, suddenly feeling chills on your body, it was cold in here.

“I did mess up though,” His words caused you to look up to the recorder. “I brought with me a thermos of tea, in case I was feeling cold. And I did, but I accidentally spilled some of them on his hands.”

“Thinking back about it, it wasn’t a mess up at all,” He started to chuckle, “Because as soon as it made contact with his hands, the subject let out this hoarse, strained scream. And it was… It was nothing I’ve ever heard before.”

“It was a masterpiece.”

You pressed the stop button on the recorder. You literally couldn’t bear to hear another word coming out of the recorder. Who is he? Who is your husband? Do you really know him? Or do you only know the front that he used in front of you for the past 7 years?

Your eyes snapped back to the content of the drawer. You rummaged through them all, the initials and the numbers. All of them aligned with the names of the victims and the dates they had been murdered.

David Bush. Peter Pettigrew. Severus Snape. Barty Crouch Jr. Spencer Gillard. Albus Dumbledore. Ralph Wilkins. Every single one of them, and their own recorders of confessions. All victims of The Mad Hatter. Victims of George Weasley.

And then you heard the front door open.

“We’re home!” Rafael’s cheerful voice had caught you off guard. You glanced at the watch on your wrist in haste, it was only 3:30 pm, they weren’t supposed to be back until 5. You felt fear running through your bones. What if George caught you snooping around? What if he's mad at you?

Wait. No. Why would you be scared? You’re not the murderer here, he is.

“Y/N, love? Are you home? We saw your shoes at the front of the house,” George’s voice, different from the one you had listened to in the recorder, had disgusted you in many ways you couldn't have imagined. You would've never thought his voice, which you loved so much before, could bring so much anger and hatred in you. But here we are.

Hearing him say your name, with love after, was he really honest? Or was he just lying, like he always does for the past 7 years? Hearing him saying it was repulsive, dirty, and full of hate.

He’s fooling with you. How dare he.

You stormed out of George’s workroom, surprising the two of them. “Mumma— '' Rafa's words were cut off when you grabbed his wrist, “Rafa, baby, I need you to be in your room for a minute alright? Mumma’s talking with Papa.”

“B-But— ” He was cut off again when you pushed him into his room and slammed the door shut. You could hear your son slamming his arms on the door, wailing to get out already.

George looked at you in confusion, “Darling, what— ” “Don’t call me darling. Or love, or honey or literally anything else!” You snapped, seething your next words, “It disgusts me.”

“What are you talking about?” George tried to get close to you, he tried to hold your hand but you shrugged it off harshly, “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me.”

“Mumma! Let me out!!!” Rafael’s screams and wails had your husband’s attention, “Let him out of his room, Y/N,” he said seriously. You chuckled with no humor, “No, no. I’m not letting you near him again.” You narrowed your eyes at him, watching his furrowing his eyebrows.

“He’s my son!” George’s voice started to rise. You clenched your jaw, “He’s mine too! And I have the right to protect him from a serial killer!”

“You’re scaring him— wait what?” George looked at you with a frown. You shook your head as you scoffed, amused by his faux innocence, “You can’t fool me, George. Not anymore.”

“Papa! Papa, help me!” Rafael sobbed from the other side of the door. You watched as the hard look on George softened at the voice of your son. You were struggling as well, you have never heard him sounded so scared and terrified, and it was because of you.

But you had to protect him.

"Let him out, Y/N," George voiced out trembling. You took a shaky breath, "I will, as soon as I put you into cuffs. Turn around."

"What?" "I said turn around!"

"Rafa, baby, please hang on for a minute okay? Mumma's letting you out soon, can you stop crying for me?" You called out to your son. You heard the little sniffles, "Mumma, I'm scared…"

You heard your heart break into pieces, "I know baby, I'm so sorry, but just a little longer okay? Can you be a big boy for me?" You asked, and it was silent before Rafael let out a small, strained 'okay'.

"Y/N, please," George voiced out, "Let him out. He's scared out of his mind!" "I'm scared too, George! I'm scared too!" You cried out loud, feeling tears threatening to come out. You weren't sure if those were tears of fear or betrayal.

“Of what?!” “Of you.”

You walked towards him and pushed George to the wall, his back facing you. "Wha— hey!" he complained. "George Weasley," You spat out, gripping the handcuffs on your pockets and strained him with all your will to not let him move, "You're under arrest for the first-degree murder of 7 people. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you."

You purposely tightened the handcuffs, causing him to groan in pain. You neared your mouth to his ear, pushing his body against the wall harder.

"Teatime is over, you sick bastard."

"Mumma, why is Uncle Blaise here? And who are these people in our home?" Rafael asked you in your arms. You sighed as you laid down on the couch, hugging your son tight. "These people are going to check our home, baby. They're good people, don't worry." You sighed out, playing with his hair.

A moment later, George passed by the two of you as he was escorted by a few police officers out of your house. He was handcuffed. "Papa?" Rafael rose, calling his Papa. George looked up and saw him, and he smiled, "Papa's going to be fine, Rafa!"

"Are they going to hurt Papa? Where are they taking him?" Rafael turned to you, worry etched on his face. You strained a smile, an effort to comfort your son, "Papa will be safe, Rafa. I promise."

"Mumma promise that Papa will be fine? And he'll come back home to us?" His little voice asked, his little pinky finger lifted. You opened your mouth, and closed it back again; speechless. You knew George won't ever step his foot back in here. You wouldn't allow it.

But for the sake of your son's innocence, a fake promise is still a promise. So, hooking together your pinky with his, you whispered, "Pinky promise."

"Mumma's going to the bathroom, okay? Can you stay with Auntie Lav for me?" You asked, and Rafa obediently nodded. You smiled softly, kissing his forehead, "That's my good boy."

As you leave your son with Lavender, the smile on your lips vanishes instantly. You looked left to right, precious belongings of yours ransacked and searched by your fellow police officers for clues and evidence that George may have brought into the house.

Your home, destroyed because of your so-called loving husband.

It was overwhelming; watching your home, the place where you first moved in together, the place where you made love to your husband, the place where Rafa had his first walk on, the place where you called home for 7 years, ruined.

Your life is ruined.

You felt your chest constricting, igniting a sensation of pain inside of you, and you struggled to see, due to tears blocking your vision. You quickly went to the bathroom, slamming the door shut as you leaned your back on the wooden surface.

You placed your hand on your mouth, clasping it down tight, hoping it could muffle the pained sobs coming out of your lips. It was a breakdown you would never wish to happen to anyone else. Your knees felt weak, so you slid down and collapsed on the tiled floor, tears dropping with the soft sound of 'plop' each time.

You remembered the first time you had met George. He was tall and dashing, you met him in his shop he ran with his brother, Fred. He was friendly and kind, showing you around the shop for hours before you asked for his number. You felt a connection towards him that pulled you into him, and you thought he felt the same when he called you later that night.

Was that all a lie?

You remembered the first time you had your date, it was at a park and you held hands as you walked on the trails in the forest of autumn. There were dead leaves everywhere, and you had thought the brownish-red surroundings had made his orange hair pop out more. George was so beautiful during that date, as he smiled at you, as he kissed your forehead, as he kissed your lips with such tenderness.

Was that the truth?

You remembered the first time you had told him you loved him. You were in bed, cuddling in winter because the heater of his house broke down. He was listening to you talking about one of the cases of Izzy Einstein when you stopped and stared into his eyes. He said what's wrong and you said, nothing, it's just that I realized that I love you. He was silent for a while before a soft smile rested on his lips as he spoke, I love you too, my love.

All of those… Do those moments mean nothing to him?

Fuck those early times, because what about your marriage? He proposed! Your child? He wanted kids too! Your life together as a small happy family? He told you he was happy!

Was he lying the whole time? Did he even love Rafa? Did he even like this family he built together with you?

Did he even love you?

Thousands and thousands of questions ran through your head that you didn't even have time to process all. They were bombarding your mind non-stop. It had become so noisy in there, "Shut up," You sobbed, holding your head tightly with your hands. Tears running down your cheeks furiously as you shook your head, a weak attempt of shooing the thoughts away, "Shut up!" You cried again, whimpers coming out of your mouth as you failed to silence the noise in your head.

You felt so many things at once. You couldn't even name a quarter of them. Everything was happening so fast and it's… it's not fair for you. It's not fair for anyone.

Angry. Frustrated. Betrayed. Annoyed. Upset. Disappointed. Disgusted. Repulsed. Responsible. Heartbroken.

And those weren't even half of it. How you wish things wouldn't have changed. How you wished you would've never taken this case in the first place. How you wished you could have your small, happy family back.

How you wish you could turn back time, with the ignorance for the truth.

But you can't. Everything is bare now. Everything is exposed. Your husband on cuffs, your son scared out of his mind, your home ransacked, you broke down in the bathroom, what good did it bring; solving this case for your family? Nothing.

Not even a promotion can heal the deep wound in this family. And it pained you that things will never be the same again without George.

Before you knew him as a serial killer, he was your husband. He was the father of your child. He was attentive, responsible, loving, caring, gentle, the perfect man for you. The perfect father for Rafa.

He was the love of your life. And he still is.

The tears coming out of your eyes were relentless, they won't stop coming out and you felt exhausted. Emotionally and mentally exhausted. You gasped for air as you cried, hearing the several knocks on the door from Blaise, "Y/N, open the door, please."

"Leave me alone, Blaise, please," You mustered out, with a weak voice. "Open this door, Y/N, " He said again, and you closed your eyes at his stubbornness.

"Blaise, please," You whimpered desperately, shakily taking in a breath, "Leave. I just want to be alone."

It was silent at the other side, and then a sigh, "I'm taking Rafa to my house. It's getting late and Lav wants to cook him something," He said and you unconsciously nodded, even though he couldn't see you, "... Thank you."

"... Take care, Y/N."

You silently scoffed at his goodbye, how could you? How could you take care of yourself? Your life is ruined. Your family is ruined. Everything, everything had gone into dust.

Everything.

TAGLIST:

@multifandom-but @sirenswhispers @lilac-skies-xd @obsessedunicorn24 @foggyturtleknightangel@evewithluv@softlyqoos @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lilypad-55449 @fiantomartell @hopemalfoyweasley @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @bucketandpotato@klausdatprettyboi @adoregin@littlechillies @phuvioqhile @sweetnspicysimp@wand3ringr0s3 @harrypotter289 @emptyporsche @tallyovie @the-unmanaged-mischief @missmulti @gcdricreads @waffleweasley @amourtentiaa @lunalovecroft @loveboyhalo @lupinsclassroom @breadqueen95 @iwritesiriusly @weasleyclaw@sevsbitxh@freds-slut @acosmis-t @colorfulprofessornickelangel @vote4weasleys @anchoeritic@alluringshawn @cute-sidney@anna-banana-13 @lostaurorax @emrysts @rosietoesy @lilgeorgie78 @prismarts @an2402lths

#george weasley x reader #george weasley series #the mad hatter series #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #george weasley x you #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x y/n #george-fabian-weasley

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argylemnwrites · 3 years

Text

Why Are We Still Waiting? - Chapter 3

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe)

Word Count: ~4900

Rating: PG-13 (brief language)

Summary: A trip to meet the newest Beaumont isn’t off to the greatest start.

Author’s Note: So, since it has been ages since I updated this story, I feel like a quick recap is in order. Drake and Riley are in Cordonia to meet Savannah and Bertrand’s new baby girl, Caroline. They just met Liam’s new girlfriend, Iris, and her innocent questions about their postponed wedding made it clear that Drake is very frustrated by the fact they aren’t married yet. To catch up/jog your memory fully on this series, you can check out the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment masterlist (link in bio).

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Drake groaned as Riley reached forward to start scanning across the radio stations.

“What?” she asked. He noticed her give a tiny shrug out of the corner of his eye as she leaned back after settling on a Greek Top 40 station.

“I knew it. I swear you pick this one just to annoy me, Liu.” Drake had made the mistake of complaining about this particular station on one of their first trips back to Cordonia, right before she’d gone back to university. It was all over-produced and sugary, and the DJs were just fucking obnoxious. Of course, that last point probably didn’t actually bother Riley, since she couldn’t understand a word they said.

“Maybe I just like this station.”

Drake glanced over and took in the giant shit-eating grin plastered across her face and just rolled his eyes. “Uh huh, sure. Let’s ignore the fact that this station plays a ton of songs in Greek.”

“I’m just trying to broaden my cultural horizons.”

“Says the woman who refused to watch Parasite because it has subtitles.’”

“If I wanted to read something, I would pick up a book,” she said, but she did lean forward again to flip over to a different station.

“Thank you,” Drake said, clicking on the turn signal as he switched into the right lane.

“You make it too easy sometimes,” she said, Drake noticing that she shrugged a little out of the corner of his eye. “If you didn’t act like that station was pure torture, I probably wouldn’t enjoy it so much.”

All Drake could do was shake his head. “You know, some people might not be so open about liking something out of spite.”

“No, it’s not spite.” Drake glanced over and raised his eyebrows at that, so Riley elaborated. “Spite is mean-spirited. I know you like my teasing too much for it to be spite.”

“Really.” Drake deadpanned, although he wasn’t able to hold back his grin and fully play along.

“Uh huh. What other explanation is there for you hanging around me after all these years?”

“I can’t think of a single one,” he said, earning him a flick of her fingers against his shoulder.

“Well I guess I will have to keep teasing you then. Otherwise I might have to settle for a guy who would have made me get up before six this morning.”

Drake looked over at her at that. Even after years together, her ability to jump from intensely sarcastic to gently sincere in an instant still amazed him. Last night, Maxwell had called and offered to pick them up from the palace after dropping off Mom and Aunt Leona at the airport, but they had a very early departure time. Drake had turned him down, feeling like it would be a shitty move to force Riley to wake up early on vacation, particularly since she never complained about using her limited vacation days to visit his family. Yet here she was, appreciative of his gesture that cost him nothing.

“Maybe I just didn’t want to spend two hours in the car with Maxwell.”

She let out a laugh at that. “Well, at least I rank as better company in your book.”

“Always, Liu. Always.”

“Seriously though, thank you.”

“Of course.”

Her left hand settled on his shoulder and gave him a little squeeze at that, but she didn’t say anything else, just glanced out the window as Drake turned off the main road and onto the smaller one that led to the Beaumont’s estate. Within a few minutes, they were pulling onto the driveway. As they climbed out of the car, they heard an excited little voice calling from the direction of the estate’s entrance.

“Uncle Drake!”

Drake closed the driver’s door and pivoted around quickly, crouching down and extending his arms. Bartie ran across the drive and threw his little arms around Drake’s neck, laughing as Drake scooped him up and hugged him tightly.

“We saw your car diving! I wanted to go out. Say ‘hi’ like Mommy or Daddy. Uncle Maxwell said I had to stay inside. Had to stand still ‘til you stopped,” Bartie rambled off, barely taking time to take a breath.

“Thought that a little toddler darting in front of the car might not be the best start to your visit,” added Maxwell, strolling over to their car. “Hey, little blossom,” he added as he hugged Riley.

“Oh, you don’t get to just ‘little blossom’ me after you convinced Liam to keep me away!” she chuckled as she gave him a playful shove. “What happened to me being a Beaumont and always welcome here?”

“He told you guys?” Maxwell asked, turning to glance at Drake.

“Of course he did!” Riley said, drawing Maxwell’s attention back to her. She laughed a bit and shook her head before walking around the car to Drake and Bartie. “Hey, Bartie! Wow, you’ve gotten so big!” Drake passed Bartie over to her, watching as she gave him a squeeze, but Bartie started squirming in her arms, clearly wanting to be released from the obligatory hugs.

Riley placed him down, and he turned right back to Drake, grabbing his hand and tugging on it. “Uncle Drake, come see my new playhouse!” he said, attempting to drag Drake along after him as he started moving back towards the estate.

“Hey, my favorite dude, do you remember why Aunt Riley and Uncle Drake are here?” Maxwell said, crouching in front of Bartie.

Bartie kicked his foot against the driveway before he answered. “Everyone wants to see Caroline. But she’s boring. She doesn’t do anything!”

Drake was trying to figure out the best way to deal with his nephew’s clear jealousy, but Riley stepped forward and bent down next to Maxwell. “I would love to see your playhouse, Bartie.”

“What do you say?” added Maxwell. “Why don’t we show Aunt Riley while Uncle Drake goes to see your mom and dad and sister?”

Bartie was silent for a few moments, but then nodded, grabbing Riley and Maxwell’s hands and heading inside without a glance back. Maxwell chuckled, twisted around, and called out to Drake, “You remember where the nursery is, right?”

Drake nodded and raised a hand in acknowledgment, taking the time to pop the trunk and grab their luggage before venturing inside himself. He went straight upstairs, pausing only to place their bags in their usual room, before heading down the hall, turning to the left and entering the private quarters, making his way to the small room located all the way towards the end of the hallway, the last door on the right.

It seemed like just yesterday he was building a crib in there for Bartie when Savannah was moving in. The room looked much the same, the walls still a pale grey, the furniture all pure white. The layout hadn’t changed much, with the crib placed against the far wall beneath a painting of stars shining over a lake with a squid waving a tentacle in the air, the changing table right next to it, and the dresser next to the rocking chair in the corner. The only thing that looked different, as far as Drake could remember, was the sheet tucked around the crib mattress. Back when this had been Bartie’s room, the sheets were covered in a variety of zoo animals, the only splash of color in the otherwise greyscale nursery. Now, they were a black and white check, much more subdued.

Laying in the center of the crib, wrapped tightly in a light pink blanket, was a sleeping baby. Drake didn’t have a lot of experience with infants, but even he had heard you never wake a sleeping baby, so he stepped further into the room carefully, trying not to make a sound. When he reached the crib, he couldn’t help but stare. This was Caroline. His niece.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, just taking her in, but eventually Savannah’s voice caught his attention.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s a bit creepy to just sneak into someone’s home and watch their child sleep?”

Drake turned his head to look over his shoulder. His sister was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, an eyebrow cocked. “Hey, Sav. Maxwell sent me up here.”

“I should have known,” she said, walking over to join him by the crib, wrapping an arm around his waist as she gave him a half-hug. “I see you’ve met Caroline.”

“She’s beautiful,” Drake said, looking down again at the little baby in the crib, a few fine brown hairs covering her head. His niece. She was so tiny. It was kind of overwhelming, seeing her like this. When he’d met Bartie, it had been such a total shock that he even existed. Plus, he had been so much older than this. “Congratulations.”

“You can pick her up, you know.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to disturb her.”

Savannah let out a few little chuckles. “She is the one who disturbs everyone most of the time. Besides, she’s just about due for a feeding.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, Drake. Just go wash your hands, and then you can hold her.”

And so a minute later, Drake found himself being handed his niece, so small and fragile-seeming. “Is this okay?” he asked, trying to make sure he walked the fine line between being gentle and holding her firmly as he tucked her against his chest.

“You aren’t going to hurt her!” Savannah laughed out.

“I just… I’ve never held a baby this little before. I don’t want to mess this up,” Drake said. Caroline felt so light in his arms. She was blinking, slowly becoming more alert after being shifted from her crib. Her bluish-grey eyes finally seemed to lock on his. “Hey, Caroline,” he said, “I’m your Uncle Drake.” But before he could think of anything else to say, she opened her mouth and let out a piercing wail.

Drake glanced over at Savannah. “What do I do?”

She laughed again. “God, what is Riley going to do with you when it’s your kid? She’s a baby, not an alien. She’s either hungry, sleepy, or has a dirty diaper.” But before she could poke fun at him any further, she reached over and shifted Caroline into her arms. “And since she’s hungry, I’m really the only one who can handle that.”

“Oh, do you want privacy or should I…”

Savannah shrugged. “I use a nursing blanket since Barthelemy walked in on me and made things real awkward.” And with that she settled onto the rocking chair, adjusting her top, positioning Caroline, then tugging a little cover over herself.

“What did Barthelemy do?” Drake asked as he moved to the side wall, leaning against it.

“Just acted real weird about the whole thing, talked to Bert about reminding me how a duchess should comport herself.”

“What a jackass.”

Savannah let out a sigh. “Bertrand was very apologetic when he relayed the message. But using a nursing blanket is not a big deal, and if it makes things easier for Bert with his dad…” She trailed off, staring down at Caroline, reaching under the nursing blanket to adjust something before she spoke again. “Having him around here has not exactly been some big happy family. I don’t know if his illness changed him, or if my memories of him were just fuzzy, but he’s an odd duck.”

Drake glanced over to the doorway. “Uhh, Sav. Not that I care, but the door is wide open and-”

She laughed and shook her head. “He’s at his rehab and physical therapy appointment this morning.”

“Ahh, gotcha. Any more talk of him trying to regain the title of duke?” Back when Barthelemy had returned to the estate, Sav had confided that it seemed like he was hinting that Bertrand should renounce his title and return it to his father. But since their wedding, it had seemed like most of that talk had died.

“No, he and Godfrey laid on the pressure after the honeymoon, but as soon as we announced the pregnancy, he backed off. His new mission seems to be to convince Liam that either Bartie or Caroline should be appointed as heir to the throne, which is crazy to think about, but it keeps him busy, so…” Savannah tilted her head to the side and raised her eyebrows, letting the thought just hang there in the room.

Drake was bothered by the implications of that statement, but he knew that pressing Savannah on it would not really get him anywhere. As inappropriate and concerning as he found the implication that Savannah and Bertrand weren’t shutting Barthelemy down completely with that shit, he knew voicing his objections now would not solve anything. Discussing this all with Liam would make much more sense. So he just filed the statement away and moved to change the subject.

“Is it easier this time around, knowing what you are doing?”

Savannah smiled before glancing down at Caroline. “I think it’s more that I have a support system. And yes, I know it was my choice to not have one before,” she added before Drake could interject. “I guess in some ways at least I know what to expect, but Caroline is way more cranky than Bartie was at this age. Besides, I don’t think any parent ever really feels like they know what they are doing.”

“Nah, you seem to have it down.”

“It’s just a lot of trial and error. You’ll see when you guys have a baby.”

Drake ran his hand across his jaw, glancing down and watching his toes nudge into the baseboard. “I have a feeling that’s gonna be a while for us.”

“Oh come on! Don’t you want your kids to grow up with their cousins?”

Drake swallowed before taking a breath. “Of course I do.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Well, getting married to start.” Shit. “Not that I think people have to be married to raise a kid or-”

“Relax, Drake,” Savannah said, cutting off his apologetic ramble. “It’s not like Bartie was a planned pregnancy.”

“Neither was Caroline,” he thought, but kept his mouth shut, not wanting to risk offending his sister or make her feel like he was judging her and her family.

“I know you have an old-fashioned streak-”

“Hey!” Drake interjected, but Savannah just kept on going.

“-but I think you guys should think about having kids soon. You were going to be married by now anyway! And isn’t that the modern, New York thing to do?”

Drake didn’t know where all this was coming from. Why she was so insistent about something that didn’t involve her. But man, he wished she would move on to any other topic of conversation. Because what could he say? That he was ready to be married with kids? That he would have no problem starting a family with Riley tomorrow? He couldn’t share that with his sister, at least not without sharing things about Riley he was pretty confident she would never want Savannah to know.

The fact that she had decided on a birth control option that would last for three years made it pretty clear where her head was at with the whole kid thing. She wasn’t really ready, not by a long shot. And until she was ready, there was really nothing he could do about it. Drake was just going to have to wait until she felt like the time was right, whenever that might be.

Maybe it was just that he was four years older than her. Maybe that’s why he felt so ready to take those next steps when she seemed so unbothered, so willing to just roll along. And to be fair, it’s not like they were ever going to be a couple like Hana and Catherine, who had timelines and life plans and five year goals. But deep down, Drake couldn’t help but wonder why Riley seemed so ambivalent about them getting married and starting a family. Was she unsure about something in their relationship, unsure about something with him?

It’s not that she didn’t want kids ever, as far as he knew. She’d mentioned wanting kids before. And they’d planned that first wedding without issue. But now it seemed like she was stuck. No rush to get married. Not thinking about having kids for years. And Drake didn’t know how to approach the whole topic without seeming like he was demanding things. Putting pressure on her. He was happy. They were happy. It was something his younger self would have never thought possible, and it should definitely be enough. But maybe he was selfish, because there were times where it just didn’t feel like enough.

Maybe it would be helpful to talk to someone about this, but that would feel like violating Riley’s trust. He knew Riley had her therapist she talked to, and he was sure their relationship was a topic of conversation there, but that was different. The therapist wasn’t someone who knew Drake, who was his friend or family. Anyone Drake would feel comfortable talking about this with knew Riley. Knew her well, quite frankly.

So for now, he was just going to have to keep moving forward. Keep hoping that Riley would start to feel ready soon. And at the moment, that meant sidestepping his sister’s questions and prodding.

“Geez, Sav! We haven’t even been here for an hour, and you are laying it on really thick.”

“Sorry, sorry! I know it’s not my business! If it makes you feel better, it’s not just with you. Kiara also told me I needed to back off when I started asking her about when she and Oliver were going to have kids right after their wedding.”

“Wait, when did Kiara get married?”

“Oh, Drake! At least you have an excuse for not knowing all the news now that you live abroad.” she said, shaking her head. “They eloped maybe… four months ago?”

And then Savannah was off, filling Drake in on tons of gossip he didn’t give two shits about. But it made her happy, and it was a safe topic of conversation, so who was he to complain?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riley sat crossed legged on the floor in Bartie’s room at a little table, Maxwell seated across from her. Meanwhile, Bartie was hard at work at his toy kitchen set, organizing pieces of plastic food on plates. He wanted to show off and make “lunch” for them. Riley supposed that this was probably a common way for a three and a half year old to want to play, not that she had any such memories from her own childhood. What wasn’t common, she was sure, was the formal table setting Bartie had carefully placed in front of each of them, the perfectly pressed white apron he’d asked Maxwell to help him tie on, or the fact that he was arranging his plastic lettuce, eggs, and meat on actual china.

“Looks excellent, my favorite dude,” said Maxwell as Bartie carefully carried over several plates to the table. “What’s on the menu?”

“Steak tartare with a fresh greens salad,” he said before turning and heading back towards his little kitchen.

“Wait, aren’t you going to join us?” asked Riley, trying to keep from bursting out in laughter at the thought of a preschooler preparing such a meal.

“Aunt Riley, no aprons at the table!” he said his eyes wide as he turned back to face her.

“Yeah, come on Aunt Riley, where are your manners?” Maxwell winked before twisting to look over at Bartie. “You need any help untying your apron there?”

“No, I can do it,” Bartie ground out, tugging on the ties without much luck.

“Okay, well I’m right here if you do need help,” Maxwell responded. Within five seconds, Bartie was back, standing right next to him.

“Thanks, Uncle Maxwell!” he said, happily pulling the apron off and jogging over to hang it up nicely once Maxwell had it untied.

“You’re working hard to maintain your title as best uncle.” Riley said.

“Every time you guys come to visit, he suddenly wants to go fishing and camping instead of having dance parties with me.”

Riley laughed at that. “We’re new and exciting, what can I say.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re the favorite aunt by default.”

“What does default mean?” asked Bartie, plopping down on the floor next to them.

“It means no other choices, dude.”

“Oh,” Bartie said, nodding before picking up his silverware, pretending to cut into the plastic in front of him with surprising coordination.

“So has Uncle Maxwell been hanging out with you a lot since your sister came home?”

Bartie shrugged. “I guess.”

“We’ve definitely been seeing some jealousy,” Maxwell said with a nod. “I kind of thought this might happen, so I made sure to clear my schedule for a handful of weeks around the due date.”

“That was thoughtful of you.”

Maxwell tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Hey, I’m favorite uncle for a reason.”

“Uncle Drake is my favorite,” said Bartie, causing Riley to burst out laughing.

“Dude, that wasn’t the deal! You’re gonna pay for this,” Maxwell said, leaning over and wiggling his fingers. “The squid’s about to attack.” With that, Maxwell started tickling Bartie, triggering wild giggles and Bartie rolling backwards on the floor.

“Bartie!” Bertrand’s voice cut across the room. Riley twisted over to find him standing in the hallway, his eyes scanning over the scene in front of him. “We don’t make our guests sit on the floor, do we?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Bertrand, it’s fine-” Riley started, but he held up a hand, cutting her off.

“What do we say, Bartie?”

“Sorry, Aunt Riley.”

All Riley could do was nod, accepting an apology from a toddler that felt entirely unnecessary.

“Good,” said Bertrand, “Now go wash your hands and get cleaned up for lunch.”

Bartie scampered out of the room, turning to his left in the hallway.

“I offered to play with him, Bertrand.”

“Well, he was told that you were coming to visit Caroline. He should have known better than to monopolize your time.”

Riley opened her mouth, ready to respond, but Maxwell grabbed her wrist and shook his head.

“How are you, by the way? I apologize for not being there to greet you and Drake.”

“I’m good, Bertrand,” she said as she pushed herself up on her feet, walking over and giving him a loose hug. “Congrats, by the way.”

“Yes, thank you. Drake and Savannah have Caroline in the private lounge if you want to go meet her. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go check and make sure Bartie isn’t making a complete mess in the bathroom.”

And with that, Bertrand was off, following the path down the hallway that his son had just taken.

“Yikes,” said Riley as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Yeah, I know,” replied Maxwell, looping his arm around her shoulders and guiding her in the opposite direction. “That is another reason I made sure I didn’t have any need to be on set or in LA for any writers meetings for a few months.”

“He’s more of a tight ass than ever.”

“I think he’s very anxious because he missed this part of Bartie’s life. The amount of research he did and the number of parenting books he read is insane. But any time any little thing isn’t what he expects, he flips out.”

“What does Savannah think about that?” Riley asked, following Maxwell down the stairs.

“Either she’s too sleep deprived to notice, or she’s just pretending not to see it. I decided to give him two months to settle into things. If he’s still snapping at everyone then, well… I guess I’ll have to stage an intervention or something.”

“Wow. Well at least you’re here to look out for the kid.”

“Yup, figure I can keep things normal-ish for him. Though I will say between watching Bertrand spiral and hearing Caroline’s shrieks, any faint consideration I might have given to parenthood has gone straight out the window.”

Riley laughed, prompting Maxwell to keep going. “I’m serious! I know I told you I was pretty sure I was good being the fun uncle, but these past few weeks have really locked in that decision. Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but Bartie is right - Caroline is boring. And loud. And I am so glad she is not my responsibility.”

All Riley could do was laugh more. “Do you need me to make up an excuse for you so you don’t need to be in the same room with her?”

Maxwell nudged her with his shoulder. “Oh, laugh it up! I don’t have any issues with her. She just confirmed that fatherhood is not for me, no matter how cute she is when she isn’t screaming her head off.”

At that point, they entered the lounge, so Riley dropped any further teasing she had for Maxwell. “Hey, Savannah. Congrats!” she said, walking across the room and giving her a hug.

“Thank you, Riley. It’s so good to see you!” Savannah replied as they pulled apart. Riley moved to sit down next to Drake on the couch, who was cradling a baby against his shoulder.

“This must be Caroline,” she said, watching as Drake tapped his hand against her back lightly.

“Either that or I have a lot of explaining to do,” Drake said, glancing over at her. Riley just smiled and nudged him lightly with her elbow.

“Drake, why don’t you let Riley hold her?” Savannah asked. “She should get to meet her aunt, too.”

“Do you want to?” Drake asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Of course,” said Riley, reaching over and helping him peel the tiny little girl off his chest, nestling her into her own arms.

Caroline was awake, her eyes roving around as Riley shifted back onto the couch more fully to try and get comfortable. After a few seconds, they seemed to settle on Riley’s face. All she could really do was stare back, taking in this child, this baby girl who might not have been planned, but would certainly be loved by so many.

“Yeah, I know I’m a stranger right now. But in a couple of decades, I’ll be the one you come to when you want nightclub recommendations in New York City.”

“Hey, I want in on that invite,” said Maxwell as Savannah let out a few chuckles. Riley glanced over at Drake, expecting him to be rolling his eyes or shaking his head, but instead was caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. He was staring at her holding Caroline with such passion, such longing, she felt almost exposed. All she could think to do was drop her eyes back to the baby, not wanting to dwell on what that meant at that moment.

Unfortunately, Savannah must have noticed Drake as well, because she said, “Oh, I see that look. ‘A while’ my ass. I bet you’ll be pregnant by the end of the year.”

Drake let out a sort of sputtering cough at his sister’s comment, but before he could say anything, could so much as get a word out, Riley felt her own mouth opening. Her own response spilled out so glibly, without a second of thought. It was almost like she heard someone else saying the words, even as she knew she was the one speaking.

“Don’t give him any ideas.”

She felt Drake stiffen beside her, saw Maxwell shifting in his seat, and heard Savannah mutter out a little apology, but all of that was just background noise as her brain screamed at her. How could she have been so fucking stupid? What possessed her to say that? Or at least to phrase it like that? There were ways to shut down Savannah’s prying without implying that Drake had baby fever and she wanted no part of it.

The uncomfortable silence in the room was broken as Bertrand and Bartie entered. “Lunch is ready in the dining room,” said Bertrand, gesturing to the door behind him. Bertrand then stepped over to Riley. “I can go put her down,” he said, gesturing at his daughter still in Riley’s arms.

“Oh, sure thing,” said Riley, passing him Caroline before standing up. Savannah, Maxwell, and Bartie had already left the room, but Drake was still seated, his eyes locked on his knee that was bouncing up and down.

“Drake, I-” she started as soon as Bertrand had stepped out, extending her hand to help him to his feet. But Drake ignored the gesture, pushing his hands into the cushions of the couch instead.

“I’m hungry. Let’s just go eat, Riley.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t-.”

“It’s fine, Riley, Really. We can talk later” He nodded at her and started walking towards the door, leaving Riley to follow after him. And more than the brush off, more than his refusal to hold her hand, the fact that he’d not called her ‘Liu’ let her know that she had made a huge fucking mess.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie

TRR/TRH: @twinkleallnight @iaminlovewithtrr @mskaneko @axwalker @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @debramcg1106 @masterofbluff

Drake/MC: @no-one-u-know @iplaydrake

ICWAM: @thequeenofpixels @sunnyxdazed @sammie0220

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr au #trr au fanfic #trr fanfic #choices fanfiction

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remushrts · 4 months

Note

hihi I love your fics n this is my first time requesting :]

may I request a Barty Crouch jr x romantic!amab!reader fluff fic?

Something, something along the lines of the slytherin skittles (or just reader and barty, your call) up on the astronomy tower after curfew (snuck out n’ stuff), and then reader fell asleep on Barty while they were pointing out all the constellations they could see?

thank you so much if you write this, and absolutely no pressure at all if you don’t want to! <3

Stargazing

— pairing: barty crouch jr x amab!reader

— a/n: hii, thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy it, i tried my best!! it's also my first time writing for amab!reader, so let me know if it's okay <3 barty might be a little ooc for what it's used to but i love the idea of a soft barty only with his partner (feel totally free to request again if you want him more chaotic, i'll gladly write that!!)

— warnings: mostly fluff, mention of smoking pot (barty is a little high, reader is open to interpretation)

For the first time in years, maybe, Barty doesn't feel like talking.

Not that he would need to anyway, the silence that lingered between you was comfortable enough to allow that, but still, he never felt so at peace.

He thinks it's about you. It's your presence, the way your hair tickles the skin of his neck where your head lays, gentle weight settling on his chest. When he commented that with Regulus, he said Barty should get a weighted blanket. He thinks you beat it by at least hundred times. Weighted blankets wouldn't do half of what you do to him. He wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world right now.

To be fair, you wouldn't either. Not even with the smell around you, weed and smoke and the stolen candies from the kitchen that lay unfinished next to you. Not when you have Barty's heartbeat just above your ear, his voice just loud enough to rumble across your chest when he speaks. You have no idea what he's saying anymore, but it's just so nice to hear him talk.

"This meteor shower is supposed to be rare. You, baby, are supposed to watch." His voice is full of taunt, the smug on his face when he catches your eyes sneaking to him.

"Yeah, Crouch?" You smile back at him, snuggling closer to him as if there was a way to get closer.

"Uhm, can look at me anytime, baby." His hand tugs at your chin, grin wide as he gently pushes it upwards, to the sky. It's beautiful tonight, clear vision from the shooting stars that light up the sky for brief moments before they disappear. "We should make it ours." A beat of silence has passed and you think you've lost something. He makes no sense.

"The stars?" You ask, smile slipping to your lips with no resistance.

"All of it. Each wish from those, they're all ours now. The planets too. All ours..." He points out, following an imaginary trace from the meteor that fell just a moment ago. You blinked, looked over at Barty again, and it's gone.

"I thought you didn't believe this crap?" You say, voice no softer than a whisper, but Barty catches the tease.

"Oh, baby, don't offend me." He lets out a breathy laugh, flicking the side of your head, but not letting you move it either. "I'm taking all the wishes I can for you, angel." The pet names drips from his lips, he has a tendency of saying them a lot when he gets high. You're always "baby", always "angel", always "pretty boy". There's a lack of something on his tone, his arrogance or taunting, but you're buying it. It's strange seeing him so soft, but you adore it, every moment.

You nod against his chest, his rambling and the raspy tone pushing you towards a state you've been trying to avoid, sleep claiming your body in a slow but sure pace. You think Barty can feel it either.

"Thanks, B..." You mumble, getting more comfortable on his chest.

"Anything for my boy." He says, no edge of intention to his words, his hand slipping around you waist to hold you close. His fingers trace your hip bone, softly.

His boy, his words echo on your chest, soft, soft. You could be that, if he kept saying it with that voice. Especially his. You're convinced he got you folded in half with that tone alone. He kisses the corner of your lips, thumb holding your chin in place. He begins to talk about the constellations again, not a single coherent idea to the textbooks you've learned, but just as poetical. You're pretty sure you hear he names a star after you before you fall asleep.

#marauders #marauders fic #marauders era #marauders fluff #the marauders era #barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch jr x amab!reader #remushrts writes — ★

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years

Text

Angel (one shot)

Harry Potter Marauders Era

Request helloooo can i ask for like a quick regulus x reader oneshot where the reader sings and regulus hears her voice and basically falls in love with it but he didnt see her face so he just comes back everyday to the same place in the hope of listening to her singing and seeing her face this time? this sounds specific i know but i feel like some soft reggie is all i need now 😭

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: M- mention of self harm

________

Suffocating… that was the best word that Regulus could use to describe his life. After joining up with the death eaters at the lovely age of 16, Regulus had quickly grown to regret his decision. Anytime that the dark mark began to burn in the slightest, Regulus found himself dying for an excuse not to go. There was, however, not one...at least nothing in Lord Voldemort’s eyes that would be “good enough.”

On the outside, Regulus had to keep his smooth and reserved demeanor. It didn’t matter on the inside how much he was screaming. No one cared. The people that did know what he was doing continued to go on and on about how he was doing “the right thing, the noble thing.”

It was 7:00pm and Regulus found himself running down a quiet hallway. He had to get out of the Slytherin common room. He had to get away from Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr. They had been so gleeful over a muggle that had been murdered the night before. Neither seemed to care about this person nor the family that they left behind. Regulus, when the deed was taking place, didn’t care. He stood stony faced as the man begged for his life. The moment Voldemort uttered his “favorite” spell, Regulus had to swallow back the feeling of nausea as he watched the light leave the man’s eyes.

Regulus had done well not thinking about the “deed” all day. It wasn’t until he returned to the common room and overheard Evan’s conversation did Regulus find himself regretting the day that he was born.

No one asked a question when Regulus walked out of the common room. Why would they? People would be dumb to question Regulus on something. People knew not to question Regulus on his doing unless they wanted to be jumped.

Regulus stopped the moment that his hands hit the balcony. Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes mentally begging for the memory to leave his mind.

Just stop...I fucking hate this!

Regulus thought miserably. He was half tempted to throw himself off of the balcony. It looked like a good distance and if he was lucky wouldn’t survive the fall. Death would be better than living the way that he was at the moment!

The brooding stopped the moment that a soft voice caught Regulus’ attention. He knew a lot of the “choir kids” would come up to this particular area of the castle to practice at points. Before today, however, Regulus had never paid any of them any attention. Today, it was different. This voice was soft, gentle...everything that Regulus needed.

Right away he recognized the French folk song that he had heard numerous times as a child. Leaning his head back against the stone wall, all of the anxiety and tension slowly left. Regulus took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. They were no longer shaking.

I should leave...but I don’t want to. She, whomever she is, has to have the most beautiful voice. She sounds like an angel.

Regulus thought with a tiny smile. Although he had no belief in heaven, hell, angels, or demons hearing this voice had to be what an angel would sound like if there were one. This soft voice was everything that Regulus needed to hear when he needed to be told “that everything would be alright.”

Over the following days, Regulus found himself in the same place at the same time. It didn’t matter what kind of hell that he had going on. The moment that soft voice would sing all of the bad would vanish. Even if it was just one song, Regulus was feeling a million times better when he had to return to the Slytherin common room.

The question plaguing Regulus’ mind now was who did the voice belong to? He had been trying to put an angelic voice with a face nonstop and was coming up with nothing. None of the girls in Slytherin house fit the idea that Regulus had in his mind.

I have to find out.

He muttered as the signing stopped. Standing up, he quickly walked into the room not having any idea what he was about to say. Regulus knew that whatever girl this was would probably think that he was a creep for spying on her night after night. What kind of girl would want that?

“I know you’re there.”

The singing had stopped and was replaced with a soft comment on Regulus’ appearance. Regulus turned around to see Y/n Lupin sitting by the window. You were the girl...the voice...it all fit! Regulus blinked a few times as he took everything in. Of course, it was you. It all made sense.

“Um...hi.”

Regulus muttered. He wasn’t for sure if he had ever spoken to you before. The two of you were in the same year but your paths didn’t cross much. You were in Hufflepuff and often kept to your little group of friends or with your older brother.

You, meanwhile, smiled noticing Regulus’ awkward silence.

“You’ve been up here the past few nights.”

You commented. Regulus’ face blushed as you patted the seat beside you. Regulus slowly sat down and kept his eyes straight ahead.

He had to be a blithering idiot. There would be no way in hell that anything between the two of you would ever work. You were Remus Lupin’s sister. Regulus didn’t foresee Remus being too onboard with his sister dating a Slytherin (even if Slytherins and Hufflepuffs made great matches).

“You were upset that first night. Are you better now?”

You asked. You knew the question was probably intrusive but it came out before you really thought better of it. That night, a few nights ago, you had been up doing what relaxed you the most...singing. When you heard the angry footsteps you considered stopping but thought about how your singing seemed to comfort your own brother when he was upset. Maybe this person needed a little comforting too (even if you didn’t know them).

When you realized that it was Regulus Black the feeling of overwhelming sympathy washed over you. You didn’t know much about Regulus other than the fact that he was Sirius’ younger brother. Over the years that you were in school, you couldn’t help but notice how sad Regulus looked most of the time. You could see those sad dark eyes from your seat at the Hufflepuff table and wanted nothing more than to give him something to smile about. He reminded you of a puppy that had been kicked one too many times. If he was anything like Sirius then you knew that was exactly how Regulus was.

It was no secret that Walburga Black was cruel to her children. You knew first hand of the abuse. You had heard about it from Sirius himself. If that was what was plaguing Regulus’ mind every night that he came to the balcony, maybe you could give him something to feel better about?

“There really isn’t getting any better.”

Regulus commented as you scooted closer. You had a feelin what that vague comment was leading toward.

“About being a death eater?”

Regulus’ face went pale as he turned to look at you with wide eyes.

“How do you know? Did my brother tell you?”

You shook your head at the raised tone of his voice.

“Ssh now. We don’t need god and everyone to hear. I saw your arm doing potions one day.”

Regulus sneered in your direction. He didn’t know how to react. Maybe just be cold like normal? What the hell was he supposed to say?

“Let me guess, you are going to tell me that I am a horrible person and that I shouldn’t be doing what I’m doing...no matter if it's what my family expected of me.”

Your momentary silence was driving Regulus nutty. After a few moments, you finally spoke.

“No. I was actually going to say I can’t imagine what you are going through. Sometimes our families are our own worst enemies.”

Regulus sighed.

“You’ve got that right. Look, I wasn’t spying on you. I want to just throw that out there.”

You smiled.

“It's alright. Your aura doesn’t seem as tense after you’re here for a bit.”

It was Regulus’ turn to be silent. He was trying to decide if he wanted to give you a compliment. If he messed things up, there was a good chance that he would never hear your angelic voice again...and that wasn’t something that he wanted to risk losing.

“Your voice is nice….its soothing.”

“Thank you.”

You replied as Regulus turned back to face you. His face this time was different. He had gone from death eater to the sad puppy that needed love.

“That first night...I was actually considering pitching myself off of that balcony. Hearing you...that was the first time I heard the most beautiful voice. It was like gravity.”

You reached out and gently took your hand in his. Were you overstepping your boundaries with a boy that you knew nothing about and who in turn knew nothing about you? Possibly. Did you care? Not really.

“I’m glad that you didn’t do that. You know, believe it or not, I realize how hard things can be with family. My family isn't normal…”

“Your brother is a werewolf.”

Regulus commented and instantly regretted his choice of words when your face went pale.

“Not that it matters though. It's just who Remus is.”

Regulus quickly added, hoping to save what hope of a friendship that he had with you. You, to his relief, smiled.

“Yes, it is who he is. I feel no guilt in telling you this now. With his condition, I tend to be second in the family. My parents don’t mean to put me on the back burner but it happens. It's hard...so I know now you must feel. How did you figure it out, if you don’t mind me asking. He literally tells no one.”

Regulus shrugged.

“Just put the puzzle pieces together.”

You continued to rub slow circles over Regulus’ palm hoping to relax him further. This was the first time (other than James and Sirius) someone had figured out Remus “furry little problem.”

“You’re really intelligent and perceptive then. If you want...you know...we could do this every evening when you're free. We don’t have to tell anyone that we are meeting up. Sometimes it's nice just to have someone outside of your friend circles.”

Regulus looked up and was clearly surprised.

“You would want to see me again?”

You nodded.

“If you want to see me that is...no pressure.”

Regulus quickly nodded, cutting you off.

“I would love to see you again...maybe around 7 tomorrow?”

You gave his hand a squeeze.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

_________

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