#regulus black who has been masking for years and doesn’t know how to feel love anymore

[read-write-thrive]

missing ✨them✨

[quindolyn]

Hey I was wondering if you could write a sub!regulus X Dom!fem reader fic?

One where it’s angsty as Regulus had been acting different around the reader, and eventually after being questioned about it alone, Regulus breaks down and admitting his parents forced him to get the dark mark (there was nothing he could do about it), and the reader comforts him while they fuck. Regulus had been through a lot and the reader wants him to know that they love him.

Including: praise kink, subspace regulus, scar/mark kissing, aftercare for regulus, riding, and anything else you think would suit this situation <3

Resilience || Regulus Black

Word Count: 6154

A/N: Do I hate this? Yes, most definitely, without a doubt. Did I only proof read 5/15 pages. Yes, again, certainly. But I'm tired and I'm with my friend so it's not gonna get better than this. I love you all and hope you enjoy it

warnings: pretty much included in the ask, can't really think of anything else

Being light on your feet it doesn’t appear as though Regulus notices you tip toeing your way across the Slytherin common room. As you come up behind him you peer over his shoulder; he has his legs tucked beneath him with what appears to be his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook resting in his lap. Standing over his shoulder you let your eyes scan across the pages laid open and what you first believed to be a chapter on counter curses you realized was actually detailing how to cast the curse.

Realizing what you’d just read you let out a small, involuntary gasp that catches the attention of the boy sitting in front of you.

“(Y/N)!” Regulus quickly exclaims, glancing over his shoulder before slamming the book closed and sliding it into his book bag which sits next to him on the plush, green velvet sofa.

“What was that Reg?” You ask, brow furrowed as your eyes lock onto Regulus’ grey ones.

“Just a book love, that’s all.”

“Your Defense textbook?” You ask, hoping he would slide it back out of his satchel to show you the familiar scarlet cover you’d scratched your initials into on the bottom right hand corner.

“Something of the sort,” He answers vaguely, pushing himself off the couch to face you. Instead of making his way around the couch to meet you he stayed on the other side of the piece of furniture. Feet planted, hands fiddling with each other while instead of making eye contact with you his gaze seemed to be directed just past your right ear.

“Don’t lie to me Regulus,” Your voice is clipped, when you’d come to check in on Regulus after he’d come home from winter break at his dreaded family’s house this wasn’t what you had expected.

Regardless, it was what you’re met with, “What the hell is that book?”

Your voice jumps and you can hear the panic rising in it. Regulus had spent the weeks up to his departure date dreading the time he would have to spend at the Black Mansion. You’d stayed up countless nights, wishing you could somehow keep him from having to go to that hellish house but when it came down to it there was nothing either of you could do.

Finding him pouring over some dark arts book the first time you saw him after nearly two weeks apart wasn’t exactly the reunion you’d been picturing in your head. Nor was it comforting.

You can barely make it out but you believe you hear him whimper something about “it’s nothing” as his gaze drops from just over your shoulder to his toes.

You two stand there for a minute, then two, each waiting for the other to say something, anything to break the tension currently hanging heavy over the room. Regulus silently begging you to let it go, to leave the room and give him some time to stash the book before coming to find you to act as though nothing had happened and it was all fine.

Unwilling to yield, you hold your ground, maintaining your silence while your eyes bore into the top of his head, awaiting his explanation as to what you’d walked into.

You’re the one to finally break the silence.

“If it's nothing, then I’d like to see it Regulus.” It's the second time in the span of five minutes you opt for his full name instead of one of the nicknames coined by his brother, who he’d recently mended things with, and made popular by yourself. You knew it would strike a cord for him but you were scared, you were on the offensive.

With a deep sigh Regulus retrieves his bag from the spot it’d fallen to on the floor, pulling the book from the bag, bound in emerald green, Regulus hold it both far from his body and with a surprisingly tight hold, somehow both wanting it as far from him as possible and not wanting it to leave his grasp.

Though visibly ancient the book appears to be in remarkable condition, engraved on the front cover in gold leaf reads “Mendel's Most Malicious Curses”.

Studying the cover you don’t recognize the book’s title but based on what you’d glimpsed inside of its pages you hadn’t expected to. Even as a fifth year you doubt this would ever be included in O.W.L. curriculum.

Despite knowing better you can’t help but feel a strange, strong attraction to the book, an overwhelming urge consuming you to take that book. Your fingers itch at your sides as you imagine getting your hands on the book, wondering how hard Regulus would fight before relinquishing it from his grasp.

Somewhere in your subconscious you register that these thoughts are not organically your own, that somehow that book is influencing you and that in reality you want nothing to do with it. Frightened thoughts simmer at the back of your mind but they are lost in the shadows of your curiosity regarding the secrets that lie beneath the ornate designs swirling over the cover.

Expectantly you extend your arm, a nonverbal signal for Regulus to hand you the book but your movement throws him into action and has him clutching it close to his chest, both arms cradling the text.

“No no no no no,” He chants frantically, shaking his head as though to shake off the thought of relinquishing the book to you. “I can’t give you this (Y/N),” He swallowed deeply, shining silver eyes seaking out yours, ablaze with conviction.

“And why’s that?” You challenge with a raise of your brow.

Inhaling deeply he seems to be bracing himself to respond, “Because you’re a muggle born, it’s not meant for you to touch.”

You can feel rage bubbling up in your stomach, threatening to spill out your mouth in a flurry of angry words admonishing Reg for his remarks, “What? Is my simple muggle born mind not worthy enough to read words in that precious little pureblood book of yours? Do I need my pedigree intact to understand what it says? Not meant for mutts, is that it?”

You thought you were past this, you thought you’d left the aloof little third year you’d first met who’d called you a mudblood and asked you to move to a different table in the library because he didn’t want you looking at his charms homework behind.

Had the past year and a half of apologies and growth on Regulus’ part all been a lie? Was that hate not as small a part of your boyfriend as you’d thought? Did it really only take just shy of two weeks back with his biggoted relatives for him to start spewing this pureblood nonsense again?

Bouncing around in your head those questions overwhelm you as you try to ignore the most pressing one, pushing at the forefront of your mind.

Does he even love you?

“B-because you’re not a pureblood, this book (Y/N), it can’t be held by anyone not of pureblood,” Reg’s shaking voice broke through the flurry of questions wreaking chaos in your mind.

“God damn it Regulus! I thought we were past this! I thought-”

“It’ll kill you (Y/N)!” His voice is frantic and you pick up on the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to leak over.

Those words that seemed to carry a fatality in themselves cleared away the din clouding your mind, everything went silent. Too silent even as the implication of those words wash over you.

That book may as well be a gun, cocked and being held steady at your temple as you feel tears of your own begin to well in your eyes, distorting your vision.

The mess of questions doesn’t return to your mind, instead they begin thumping one by one at the base of your brain though they all carry through the same theme.

How could he have brought that near you?

“Kill me?” You curse yourself for how obvious your voice is shaking but the book that just moments earlier you were dying to get your hand on seems to have cast an oppressive air over the room and has you recoiling away from your boyfriend.

Regulus nods, holding eye contact with you as he slips the book back into his bag, sliding it under the sofa before cautiously striding towards you.

“That's why I can’t give it to you to look at, it's cursed and if you so much as bump it you’ll…” His voice trails off, the words too terrible to speak aloud.

Your arms wrap around yourself, clutching as hard as they can as you fight to wrangle your thoughts under control. His response revealed to you that he doesn’t intend to hurt you, not with the book anyways which has dozens of other worries popping up in your head. You’re desperate for answers as to what happened to Regulus at his house. He seems ready to give them to you as he offers to take you back to his dorm away from any prying eyes or ears that may lurk about in the Slytherin common room.

You’d both agreed to arrive back at school two days early hoping to get some alone time in but that didn’t mean that the castle was empty and that anyone couldn’t walk into his common room at any moment.

You stall as he lets you into his dorm, you’ve been there a thousand times, often under the mask of night but your usual spot, atop his always made perfectly bed, seems wrong now. Without answers to your countless questions the entire room feels foregin to you and leaves you standing by his desk, not quite leaning against it but also not quite supporting your own weight.

Regulus seems equally awkward but eventually settles on his bed, perched precariously on the edge of the mattress, he barely looks comfortable.

You stay there so long in silence that after a while your breathing syncs, the singular sound becoming the only noise in the drafty room.

Long after it becomes clear Regulus isn’t going to speak first and you finally tire of the silence you find your voice, somewhere deep inside of you summoning the words to your most pressing worry; “What happened at your house Regulus? What did they do to you?”

Your words have him crumbling, your usually stoic boy folding in on himself until he is but a ball hanging off the bed.

You hesitate for a single second before you’re racing towards him, dropping before him at his knees to cup his face in your palms. Directing his visage upwards to meet yours you feel your heart wrench in your chest as you take in his puffy, red eyes, red nose and flushed cheeks already marred with twin trails of salty tears cascading down his face.

“Regulus,” You choke out feeling tears from earlier resurface as you push yourself off the ground to take your place next to the scared boy beside you.

Pulling him into your lap as much as his size permits you too you take great care in cradling his head, clutching him to your chest as your rock gently back and forth humming into his hairline in hopes to calm his sobs. Raw and ragged they each tear at the fragile, brave exterior you’ve erected in hopes of comforting the boy, giving him something solid to hold onto.

Whispering sweet nothings into his ear you feel him melt into your touch, slowly the breathing becomes stronger and his sobs quiet to weak sniffles swallowed by the occasional gulp.

Feeling him shift under your touch you can tell he’s working himself up to something, he always gets fidgety when he’s trying to summon the courage to do something hard, his movement triggers a memory.

It floods through your mind as you’re reminded of a similarly terrified Regulus, knees bumping against the table at breakfast one lazy Sunday as he repeatedly bounced them, seemingly unable to sit still. He’d spent weeks working himself up to speaking to his brother for the first time in far too long.

The memory of him being so strong and brave even as the entirety of the Great Hall tracked his movement from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor had you drawing a deep breath. The strength the memory provides you has you summoning the breath to prompt Regulus into some sort of explanation, anything.

“Reggie, your mother gave you that book didn’t she?”

He goes still at your words and even involuntary actions seem to still, his lungs draw no breath and his pulse seems to fade away under your touch.

“Bellatrix,” His voice is hoarse from crying, “Her idea of a Christmas gift.”

“That bitch,” You spit.

“Walburga’s was worse.”

You pause at the mention of her name, there is no doubt in your mind that he is the one who’s actions have sent Regulus into this downward spiral of despair and fear. You’re not even sure if you wanna hear what he has to stay but what you want stopped being important a long time ago.

“Do you wanna show me Reg?” You ask, breathless.

“No,” Comes his meak voice, “But I need to.”

You nod understandingly as you regrettably allow him to slip from your grasp so he can turn to face you, one leg tucked under his bum and the other hanging over the edge of the bed.

His eyes are downcast before he peaks them up through thick, dark lashes to meet your gaze, “Do you promise not to hate me (Y/N/N)? I don’t know if I can do this if you hate me.”

Your brows are drawn together as your response comes emphatically, “I could never hate you Regulus, I could never and I will never.”

“You can’t make that promise,” He says through a watery chuckle, leaving you wondering where the hilarity in the situation was. “I shouldn’t have asked you to.”

“Regulus,” You latched onto his hand before he could turn away from you, “I am incapable of hating you my love, please. Tell me what happened.”

Silver eyes locked with yours as though they would reveal the solidity of your promise. You’re not sure what answer he found in them but regardless he broke your gaze as he snuck his hand out of yours.

You watch as he slowly rolls up his sleeve and an idea as to what he’s going to show you begins to form and you find yourself regretting ever demanding to know what’s going on. You quickly shove those thoughts back down, there's no use in even entertaining them, ignoring your problems won’t make them go away.

Your worst fears are confirmed as Regulus rolls the sleeve of his black sweater to reveal swirling black ink sunk deep into his skin. Even just by looking at it you could feel the permanence of the ink, the meaning behind it causing a chill to shoot through your bones.

In the back of your head this had always been a possibility but not one you’d ever truly considered. You always thought that you would be able to get yourself and Reg away from everyone, from everything. Blood purity, the ministry, his family.

You were going to get out and you’d thought you’d have plenty of time, half way through his fifth year neither of you ever expected him to be forced to take the Dark Mark before his eighteenth birthday.

You were supposed to have until his eighteenth birthday.

Staring at the ink that seemed to pulse with life against the pale white of Regulus’ skin you suppose that it doesn’t really matter what you were supposed to have, what was supposed to happen. Regulus has taken the dark mark.

Godric, Regulus has taken the dark mark.

“Y-Your mother did this to you?” Your voice wobbles, anger, confusion, and terror evident in your voice, each betraying the strong front you’re trying to keep up for Regulus.

“She came for me in the middle of the night, (Y/N/N). First time I’ve ever been woken by her instead of Sirius or a house elf and she forced me up, made me get dressed before taking me downstairs and they were all there,” His voice cracks as a silent sob racks his body, you can only imagine how difficult it must be to relive the horrific events of that night. Hoping to provide him with any sort of comfort you inch closer to him, throwing your arm around his shoulder allowing him to rest his head on yours before continuing.

“They were all there (Y/N), not just her and Father. Bellatrix, Cissa and her husband, the Lestranges,” He pauses to swallow, “ And him. He was there.”

Regulus needn’t clarify who “he” was. The idea that he had even been near Regulus made you sick to your stomach and you could feel the distinct sensation of bile rising tickle at the back of your throat.

“Shhh, it's okay Reg,” You soothe, tightening your grip on him as sobs shake his body, “It’s going to be okay Red we’re going to figure this out.”

“He did this to me,” He sobs as he shakes in your lap, letting the enormity of his circumstances finally sink in after suppressing it for the past week, the fear of your response keeping him occupied.

To say you aren’t scared would be a lie, you’re fucking terrified but holding Regulus’ trembling form you know that this decision was not his. He would never swear allegiance to a group hell bent on destroying you and people like you, a few years ago maybe but not today. Not the Regulus you’d come to love, even if it began despite yourself.

Without hesitation you reach out, wrapping your hand around the skin now stained by dark magic.

Regulus let’s out a hiss at your touch and you feel him tense under your hand, afraid you’ve hurt him you start to pull away, “Does that hurt Reg?” You ask warily.

“Yes,” He spits out through gritted teeth, “But don’t let go please,” He pleads, raising his gaze to meet yours, “Please don’t let go.”

“Not gonna let go,” You promise, keeping your hold on his forearm tight.

Dipping your fingers under the strong bone of his mandible you turn his visage upwards to meet yours, heart breaking at the sadness and pain swimming in those beautiful grey eyes of his. Slowly you lean in before your eyelashes are brushing against the soft skin of his cheeks and your eyes flutter closed as you watch his do the same.

Your lips brush each other’s gently as your hand cups the side of his face, giving you complete control of the kiss as you keep the swipes of your lips light, you can just barely make out the taste of the pomegranate lip balm you’d given him as a part of your holiday gift to him.

“I didn’t wanna take it (Y/N/N),” He sniffles against your lips, “I don’t wanna be a Death Eater, I don’t wanna hurt you.” The sincerity in his voice has more tears welling in your eyes, you just can’t bear to see your beautiful boy in so much pain.

“Oh I know you don’t bubba I know,” You calm him, throwing a leg over to the other side of his lap so that you can perch yourself atop the hard smooth surface of his thighs. Gently pressing kisses along the canvas of his face you feel his arms wrap around your waist and the tips of fingers graze against your ass as his hands hover above it.

“Can I touch you please?” His words are barely audible but his desperation is loud and clear.

You grant permission as you lean forward to capture his lips in another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. Posing little, if any, challenge before letting your tongue delve into his mouth, quickly claiming dominance over his as you feel his palms clutch the globes of your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he holds onto you as tight as possible.

With care you slowly guide him onto his back as your lips trail from his down the column of his throat, in your journey down you leave sloppy hickeys along the delicate skin of his neck. Pulling away slightly you smile to see the various shades of purple and blue painted along his pretty ivory skin.

You know you’re going to have a real conversation about this later, what it means, what the two of you are ready to do about it but right now all you can think about is how you can make your pretty boy feel better, how you can show him that your love for him hasn’t changed. And there’s one way you know how to do that best.

“Do you want me to make you feel good Reggie?” You whisper against his skin as your lips ghost over his collar bone, drinking in his scent.

“Please,” He whimpers, “Need you.”

That’s all you need to hear before your hands are delving under the hem of Reg’s sweater, hands sliding against the smooth planes of his abs, your hands gliding over the occasional ridge of a long healed scar.

Sliding the hem up all the way to his collarbone you look down to see the beautiful lines of his chest and stomach. The scars you’ve become used to seeing a dark but faded pink now shine an almost brilliant purple as though the dark magic imprinted upon his arm had somehow interfered with scars caused by Walburga, most of them when he was much younger. You know for a fact that there are more ones on his back, deeper and darker from taking longer to heal.

“Come on pretty boy,” You coach, propping him up so that you can slip the soft sweater over his head before discarding it over your shoulder, “There we go, that’s a good boy.”

He lets out a low whine at your praising words as his hips thrust up towards yours which are perched directly atop them.

While removing your own sweater you smile, realizing it’s actually one of Regulus’ old Quidditch jumpers from the year prior. With no bra beneath your top your tits are left bare for Regulus’ viewing. His eyes gloss over as lust creeps into the stormy grey of his irises, they’re locked on your tits as though they’re the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

“Do these hurt more than normal baby?” You ask as your fingertips graze over the raised scars on his chest, if the dark magic of the dark mark made his scars more sensitive you wanna be careful not to hurt him.

“A little.”

Frowning you lean down to press your lips against the puckered scars, your kisses light and fleeting as you trace the dark lines with your lips.

Dancing from one scar to another you hear him exhale deeply and the tension seems to be slowly leaving his body as he settles into the mattress and he becomes malleable under your touch.

“You’re so beautiful Reg,” You praise against his scarred skin, needing him to understand just how much you love him.

“I love you so much,” You look up through your lashes to see Regulus’ eyes already locked on your body.

“I love you too.”

With that your lips are ceasing his once more as you feel the overwhelming need to comfort your boy. Gently, you grind your hips up against his as you become lost in the kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours before you feel a familiar bulge pressing on you.

Your hand ventures back down the hard muscle of his stomach before you bump against the bulge of his erection, straining against the soft material of his sweatpants. You palm gently over his cock as your face buries itself in the crook of his neck, giving him sweet, light kisses while teasing his throbbing member.

“Please,” Comes his choked pleas at being teased, “Please, need more.”

“Of course pretty boy,” You promise as you lift yourself off of him, giving him one last kiss at the waistband of his sweatpants before helping him ease off his bottoms and boxers.

Once he’s devoid of all clothing you too strip down so that you’re both bare naked, your eyes are fixed on the red, weeping head of his half hard cock, sitting against the inside of his muscled thigh.

He whimpers as your hand wraps around his member, pumping up and down his hardening length, brushing your thumb along the sensitive tip of his cock.

“Wanna be inside of you,” He whimpers, hands grappling for your wrist to stall your movements and pull you on top of him but all he succeeds in doing is making you stubble closer to him.

You release your right hand from his cock, instead taking his hand in yours while your unoccupied hands resumes stimulating his member.

“I know you wanna be inside of me, pretty boy, but I gotta get you hard first.”

“But I am hard,” He argues in a pretty little whine, and now that he mentions it you realize that he is harder than he was when you’d pulled him from the tight confines of his pants.

“Your cock’s so gorgeous,” You murmur watching the way he twitches in your hand, “Think you’re hard enough now, yeah?”

He nods his head, squirming as he fights the urge to buck up into your hand.

Making sure that he’s comfortable, propped up against the pillow at the head of the bed you brush away the hair that’s fallen into his face as you straddle his lap, the shaft of his cock pressing against the warmth of your cunt.

Lifting yourself a few inches off his thighs your help guide his prick to your entrance, slowly sinking onto him you allow yourself to take your time accepting each and every inch of him inside of you.

Reg’s eyes are glued to your pussy as he watches himself disappear inside of you, all the way down to his base. His eye brows furrow from the overwhelming pleasure that swims through his veins, sinking deep into his every nerve at the bliss of being completely surrounded by your warm pussy.

Pleasure shoots up your spine at the sensation of slowly becoming full, once you’ve finally taken every inch of him inside you you throw your head back, mouth dropped open as the breath is stolen from your lungs. It feels so good to be so full with him you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Good boy,” You say breathlessly, rubbing your arms up and down his flexing arms, fists furled with the sheets between them as he too adapts to the sensation that comes with being inside of you.

“You ready for me to move?” You ask once you finally become used to the full feeling.

Desperate nods answered your question, it takes you a minute to find your rhythm but soon you’re grinding his hips against his, lifting yourself slightly off his cock before grinding back down onto him.

Your movements are slower than usual when you fuck Reg, but after the terror he’d gone through in the past weeks you’re deliberate in your gentle movements.

As your hands grip the muscles of his arms you hear him take a sharp breath, your eyes fly open, landing on his face, your movements stalling before you realize that you’re clutching the newly marked skin on his left forearm.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry,” You apologize, loosening your grip on him as your lips frace the dark lines of the ink against his skin.

Seeing that mark on anyone else would’ve made you recoil, have ice shooting through your veins as fear petrified you. While you would’ve preferred never to see that symbol of hate tattooed into Regulus’ skin it didn’t evoke its usual reaction from you. The only fear you have is fear of the future, fear of what lies in wait for the two of you beyond the walls of Hogwarts, but it doesn't matter right now. All that matters is comforting your boy, all you think about as you press your lips to his mark.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear sobs break through Regulus’ lips, quickly you abandon the stain of ink , moving to cradle his head so that your tits are right in his line of vision.

“I thought you were going to hate me,” He cries into your chest, tears wet the soft skin of your tits.

“No baby, I’ll never hate you, not ever.”

You feel the wet warmth of his mouth brush against your right nipple, gazing down you see his tongue lazily circling the pebbled flesh and you’re reminded just how cold the room actually is but pressed up against Regulus it feels like your entire body is on fire.

“You wanna suck on my titty Reggie?”

He responds with a weak nod and quickly you’re easing your nipple into his mouth, helping him find the correct angle all the while stuttering your hips against his.

“You fill me up so good Reg,” Your praise, fingers tangling in the dark mess of curls.

At your praise he begins lifting his hips in times with your thrusts, helping you as you fuck youself on top of him, wanting so desperately to make you feel as good as you make him.

“There we go, that’s a god boy.”

“M’getting close,” His words are muffled by the soft flesh of your tit stuffed into his mouth.

You too are nearing your orgasm as your clit brushes against the hard bone  of his pelvis pulling a sharp whimper from you. To better grant Regulus access to your breast you’ve settled on rolling your hips in circles, ceasing the up and down movement from earlier so as to not disturb him.

A familiar tightness is brewing in your belly as Regulus’ hands run up and down your back before gripping the globes of your butt, maintaining as much physical contact as possible.

“Go ahead bubba, go ahead and cum. Fill me up pretty boy, want your cum. Need your cum. Godric I love you,” You ramble, seizing his lips again, needing them against yours as you feel him cum inside you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” He mutters as your cunt grips around him with the tell tale signs of your quickly approaching orgasm.

“Y’gonna cum with me baby?” You ask as you press your lips to his forehead, his mouth having once more found the plush of your breast.

“Yes,” He nods, “Please.”

You throw your head back in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you, wave after wave of pleasure racing through your veins as you ride out your orgasm, continuing to move your hips as you simultaneously help Reg through his. Stars flash behind your closed eyelids as the pleasure building up finally releases, sending you into euphoria so intense it seems to cloud your every sense.

The second he felt your cunt squeeze around his cock it tipped him over the edge and as he lost himself in pleasure, rope after rope of cum releasing inside of you, he tried his best to match the movement of his hips to yours.

You flutter your eyes open as the warmth of his cum floods your pussy as you come down from the height of your orgasm, letting yourself collapse so that your chest is pressed up against his.

With your chests pressed so close together you notice the exact moment that your breathing syncs, feeling as Regulus’ arms wrap around your bare torso keeping you close to his body.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur against the ivory skin of his chest, keeping your voice hushed.

“Better. A little happy.”

Glancing up you catch the smallest smirk slink across his lips as he stares up at the vaulted ceiling.

“Happy?”

“You make me happy,” His eyes flicker to yours as he pulls you closer to him causing his softening prick to slip out of your tight hole. You both hiss as the cool air hits his cock and the cum he’d emptied into you begins flowing out yout pussy.

Regrettably you push yourself off of him, pulling his sweater over your head before waddling into the connecting bathroom, being ever so conscious about the sticky white mess between your legs as you wet a washcloth using warm water from the sink before applying it to the insides of your thighs. Ginger touches hastily cleaning up the excess cum before rinsing the wash cloth to take it to Reg.

“Hey pretty boy,” You coo upon reentering the room to find him in the same position you’d left him in, “You ready for me to clean you up?”

“You look so beautiful in my clothes (Y/N/N),” He responds instead of answering your question, pushing himself onto his elbows so that he can watch you, his black sweater enveloping you all the way to your lower thighs.

“And you’re just beautiful,” You smile, sitting next to him on the mattress. You aren’t lying, he looks absolutely gorgeous leaning back, mop of dark hair in tangled tresses, grey eyes glossed over, abs sheening with sweat as are his equally toned thighs. Merlin bless the poor bastard who invented Quidditch.

Dragging up his muscled legs your eyes settle on his softening member, just as pretty as the rest of him.

With care you make quick work of cleaning the cum off his cock, resting your hand on his thigh when he tries to squirm away from your over stimulating touch.

“I know baby, I know but I gotta get you all nice and clean for me.”

“Hurts,” He mumbles in a pathetic pout.

“I know it does pretty baby but look,” You say, pulling the cloth from his skin, “All done already.” Pressing a kiss to his temple you go to stand but you’re quickly pulled back down to the mattress by cold hands wrapped around the warm folds of your waist.

“Don’t go,” He mumbles into your hair as he keeps you tucked into his side.

“Just gotta go put the washcloth back Reggie,” You explain trying to slip from his hold but he’s not having it and just tugs you back against the hard planes of his chest.

“No,” He says simply before reaching over to the bed side table where he’d set his wand, mumbling a quick banishing spell the rag flew from your hand before flying into the bathroom.

Resting your head against his strong shoulder you yank a blanket from the end of the bed up to throw it around your bodies, nestled close together.

“You said you were happy Reg.”

“Mhm,” He responds with a noncommittal hum.

“What else are you feeling, love?”

You hear him take a deep inhale, as his own answer seemed to overwhelm him, “I don’t know. I’m scared, I’m really scared but not so much now that I know that you don’t hate me.”

You nod against his chest, you can only imagine how petrifying that thought must’ve been for him and you can’t deny the tug you feel in your chest at the idea of Regulus ever thinking you would hate him.

“I’m still terrified but I think I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know you’re gonna be okay Regulus, you are capable and strong and smart and the bravest boy I have ever met,” You can feel the blush radiating off of him at your words.

“Thank you (Y/N/N),” He mumbles bashfully into your hair once more.

You were telling the truth, if there was one thing that you know for certain its that Regulus is just as resilient as he has proven to be and if Walburga, or anyone else for that matter thought he was going to take this lying down. If they thought you were going to take this lying down, they have another thing coming. There is no doubt in your mind that Regulus will fight for what he knows to be true and if there was ever a point that he would have obeyed his mother’s every command without question that time was long past.

Reg isn’t to be underestimated. He’s just as every bit courageous as he’s proved to be over and over again. To underestimate him is to dig your own grave; and unlike Walburga you aren’t ready to count him out quite yet. On the contrary actually, your boy wasn’t about to take this lying down and even if it meant total self destruction, the two of you are about to raise hell.

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[j-amespotter]

★ august [pt. 2] - s. b.

“i never needed anything more.”

Pairing: Sirius Black x Slytherin!Reader, Regulus Black x Slytherin!Reader 

x. x. x.

Summary: As one of the Order of the Phoenix’s freshest recruits, love certainly was not on Sirius Black’s mind the summer after he finished school – especially not with a Slytherin, who just happened to be his brother’s girlfriend. 

Genre/Warnings: angst/fluff, infidelity, mentions of torture, war, & sex. 

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: by popular demand... part 2 of august! let me know what you think & if you’d like to be added to my taglist! posts will be slower because i’m back at uni

masterlist

PART 1

It was a cold, snowy day in the village. The streets bustled with young passersby. They huddled together with flushed cheeks and dopey grins, reveling in their distance from stingy professors and half-written essays. The line for butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks wrapped around the street. The scene was all-too-familiar for the raven-haired troublemaker and his bespectacled companion hidden in a dark alleyway behind the Hog’s Head.

“Think we can sneak to Rosmerta’s for a butterbeer?” asked James, nudging his best friend with his elbow. “She’d let us jump the line.” 

Sirius rolled his eyes and snorted. “Yes, that would help the whole ‘lying low’ thing, wouldn’t it?”

James raised a concerned eyebrow at Sirius. “I thought you’d be up for it,” he said with an edge in his voice. 

“We’re on a mission,” snapped Sirius. “Let’s just hope nothing is waiting for us so we can get out of here.” 

“You’re jumpy,” grumbled James in response. “Mate, you didn’t have to come if it was going to bother you.” 

“I’m not bothered,” said Sirius defensively. “Focus, Prongs. Suspected Death Eater activity in Hogsmeade Village. We need to wait it out and hope for the best.” 

James shrugged, though he looked like he wanted to say more. The two men turned the corner and peered through the window of Dervish and Banges on the lookout for hellish masked figures that were quickly becoming the bane of Sirius’s existence. 

It had been four months since the summer Sirius’s life changed. His world lost the little color it had, and unfortunately, his friends were bearing the brunt of his moodiness. Sirius knew it was unfair. It was not James’s fault he was scorned by a cold, conniving snake of a woman, who showed him more love than he knew what to do with and then snatched it away without a second thought. 

It was bad enough they were there on a Hogsmeade weekend. He knew you were most likely somewhere in the village, probably in Regulus’s arms, shielding yourself from the cold. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, one he decidedly ignored as he turned to his partner-in-crime. “We should split up,” said Sirius. “Get under the Cloak and keep an eye on the station. I’ll do a walk-through. I’ll call you from the mirror if I see anything.” He gestured to his jacket pocket. 

After bidding James goodbye and good luck, Sirius made sure to lay low as he sifted through the snow-covered streets. Though he recognized some of his former classmates, he did not stop to greet them. He was not the type to let his personal life tear his eyes away from the prize. What frightened him was how difficult it was proving to be. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius spotted movement across the hill through the shattered glass window of the Shrieking Shack. Frowning, he pulled up his hood and jogged towards the disturbance. 

When he was safely away from the crowd, Sirius crouched behind a bush next to the house, close enough to hear vaguely-familiar voices – at least two. He inhaled a gust of cold air warily, feeling his heartbeat pick up at rapid speed. No one except the four Marauders ever dared to enter the Shrieking Shack. Who could these intruders be if not Death Eaters? Sirius’s fingers grazed the mirror shard tucked away in his pocket. Should he call James for help? 

Suddenly, he heard faint, quiet sobs from inside. On instinct, he jerked his body slightly upward and transformed into Padfoot. Taking soft steps forward on four legs, Sirius expertly stepped over a creaky floorboard. He remained hidden in the shadows, facing the back of a tall, skinny figure, whose scent overwhelmed his canine senses with the soiled flavor of repressed memories. 

When the stranger spoke, Padfoot winced at the tauntingly grim echo in his eardrums. “Stop crying, darling. It’s pathetic,” said Regulus. 

“H-How could you just…” you said nasally, unable to finish. Sirius felt his heart sink as he heard your broken, empty words. It was your voice that haunted his dreams, and there you were, looking cold and miserable, merely ten feet away from him. 

“You’re wasting your tears, (Y/N). She’s filth. She deserved it.” 

You looked indignant, raising an accusatory finger at your boyfriend. “N-No one deserves torture for who they are,” you said shakily.

Regulus sighed. “Honestly, you’re acting as if we killed her. She’ll be fine. Besides, I didn’t do anything to her. If I knew it would have bothered you, I wouldn’t have stayed.” 

“You just watched, Reg! You watched your dreadful friends torture that poor girl! Why? Because she’s Muggleborn? Why didn’t you let me stop them?” 

“They did stop,” answered Regulus heatedly. “They stopped for you. You should be more careful. If it weren’t for me, they would be spreading some nasty rumors about you. If I didn’t know any better, I would call you a blood traitor.” 

You scoffed. Sirius, still in dog form, shuffled to the side and hid under a scratched table. Emotions were high, so his swift movement remained unnoticed. 

Regulus strode toward you and placed his gloved hands on your shoulders. “Forgive me, (Y/N). I know how sensitive you can get.” 

You sniffled. “It’s not about being sensitive, Regulus. It’s about right and wrong! You know they would have killed her, you know it! The worst part is that you would have let them, and it doesn’t even surprise me anymore.” 

“What has gotten into you? I know you prefer to stay away from conflict, but you’ve been skittish for quite a while now,” said Regulus, dropping his hands off of you.

You were quiet. With one glance at your glossy eyes, Sirius knew what was going to happen before it did. “I have to tell you something. I did something bad.” 

The selfish part of Sirius wanted this. He wanted exactly this. But there was a sinking feeling in his chest, seeing it happen right before his eyes. He attempted to telepathically will you to stop talking, but it was too late. Regulus stared at you expectantly. 

“Last summer I… I was with someone else. I cheated on you, Reg,” you cried.

Sirius’s normally-reserved brother could not contain the shock dripping from his voice. “What?” 

“Regulus, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I swear!” 

“How could you?” snapped Regulus. “I let you stand here and scold me over my activities as if you have the moral high ground between us! You had an affair? With whom?” 

You looked pained. “Don’t make me say it, Reg. Just know how sorry–” 

“With whom?” 

“W-With your brother, Regulus. With Sirius.” His name sounded like a melody on your tongue. Sirius held his breath, swallowing the emotion pooling inside of him. 

“What? My brother? You had an affair with my brother?” Regulus looked as though he was about to strike. Sirius bent his front legs, ready to pounce. “Did you sleep with him?” 

You turned away, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Did you sleep with him?” 

You nodded slowly. It was as if you were carrying the weight of a thousand bricks. 

Regulus ran his hand through his hair. He paced the length of the room, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Okay,” he said after a tense silence, “we can fix this. I don’t blame you; I know how my brother is. You can be so gullible. He tricked you into sleeping with him. I was away for so long. You were upset. I can forgive you. We can move past this.”

You stared up at him, wild-eyed. “W-We can?” 

“Yes, we can,” said Regulus. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I forgive you.”

“I don’t think I can,” you said slowly, lifting your eyes to gaze directly into his. 

“What do you mean?” 

You wiped away your tears hastily. “I tried so hard, Reg. I tried so hard to forget him, but I can’t. I’m in love with him.” 

Sirius nearly yelped in giddy shock. She’s in love with me. (Y/N) loves me, not him. She loves me, not him, and he knows. 

Regulus had an unreadable expression on his face. “You’re in love with him? So all those years between us, they mean nothing to you?” 

“Not at all,” you argued. “I love you so much, Reg. But you aren’t the same anymore. You’re hurting me.” 

“Don’t you dare blame this on me,” said Regulus angrily. “You did this! You’re the one that slept with my brother!” 

“I’m telling you, it’s not like that! It wasn’t just sex. I went to him for help. I went to him for you,” you said. “It wasn’t on purpose. I never meant to hurt you. But I can’t pretend anymore. I’m in love with him.” 

Regulus was seething in a characteristically quiet way. “My brother,” he spat, “cares for no one but himself. I am sure you two will be perfect for each other. We are done.” With that, he spun around and walked out of the Shrieking Shack, slamming the door behind him. 

You fell on your knees, sobbing into your hands. Your soft whimpers broke Sirius’s heart into pieces. He poked his head out from under the table and pawed his way toward you. You looked up and gasped in fright. Sirius had forgotten about Padfoot’s unnaturally large size. Gently, he nudged your leg with his snout. “Sorry, you had to see all of that.” You buried your face into your knees. “Are you the big, bad wolf in this joint?” 

Before he could combust at your innocence, Sirius jerked upward again and balanced himself on two feet. “Nope, but he’s a friend of mine,” he joked softly. 

Your head snapped up. You jumped in complete surprise. “Sirius! What are you doing here?” You stared at a spot on the ground. “Are you an Animagus?” 

“To answer your second question, yes,” said Sirius hurriedly, wanting more than anything to skip the small talk, “and to answer your first, this is almost like a second home to me. How did you know about the wolf?” 

You looked at him in awe, then shriveled backward in shame. “Severus Snape spread some awful rumors when you all were at school.” You couldn’t meet his eyes. “Sirius…”

Sirius took tentative steps toward you. “No more lies,” he whispered. “Are you really in love with me?”

You stared into his grey eyes. “Yes,” you said in a hushed whisper. “I’m in love with you, Sirius. And I’m so sorry about what I said that day. I was scared. I know it’s no excuse, but it’s the truth.” 

In an instant, Sirius felt warmth rush up his body. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you without a second thought. To his utter delight, you kissed him back hungrily. Your arms wrapped around his waist, inhaling his musky scent. “I never stopped thinking about you,” he whispered against your lips. 

You smiled sadly. “Me neither. But how can we possibly be together?”

“Well, you’ll be home for Christmas soon,” said Sirius. 

“That’s only for a few weeks,” you argued. 

Sirius kissed your cheek. “It’s plenty of time. Plus, I can get into the castle whenever I want.” 

You looked skeptical. “How?”

“I have my ways,” said Sirius. “I’m never letting you go again.” 

You felt tears prick at your eyes. “How am I supposed to go back? To face all of them again?” 

“They wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you, not under the teachers’ noses,” said Sirius, mostly to assure himself. “Stay away from Regulus, too.” 

“Easier said than done,” you said. “They dragged some poor Muggleborn third-year here just to torture her. You don’t even know what they get up to at school.” 

Sirius pulled you into a tight embrace. He felt a tingle in his jacket. Pulling out the shard, he met a very familiar pair of hazel eyes. “Is everything okay? Did you find anything?” asked James. 

Sirius pulled away from you. “Yes, everything’s fine. I've searched the whole village. It was just a few Slytherin sixth-years, but they’re gone now. I’ll meet you there.” 

With a nod, James vanished. 

You tugged on his sleeve. “What was that? You have to go?”

Sirius made a motion to pocket the mirror, glancing at it thoughtfully before doing so. After a quick moment, he shoved it in your direction. “Here, keep this. It’s a way for you to call me at school. Whenever you need me, don’t hesitate.”

You paused. “Are you sure? What about James?” 

“He won’t mind,” assured Sirius. “Promise me you’ll use it. Even if you only want to talk.” 

Smiling, you pulled him into another kiss. “Definitely.” 

Sirius feared letting go, though he wasn’t afraid you would walk away again. He wasn’t sure what his brother and his friends would do. “I’ll see you soon, love. Don’t worry too much. You’re Sirius Black’s girl.” 

“That I am, darling. For as long as I can help it.”

Taglist: @iwritesiriusly @mads-bri @she-seeks-magic @sarcasticallywitty15 @lunalovecroft @fific7 @lindatreb @u-no-poo @justmesadgirl 

[saudadeonly]

you take a breath and then another

Read on ao3. Part six.

Death Eater!Sirius Black AU

New Year's Eve on the edge of a cliff. Regulus has regrets and wishes; Sirius has nothing at all. But at least they are on the same side.

Word count: 2435

___

December 1981

The ground is cold underneath Regulus’s fingers as he braces his hand on it to sit himself down on the patch of dry grass at the edge of the cliff. His legs dangle over the ledge and his stomach twists itself up as he gauges the long way down that might await him at the slightest slip.

Sirius doesn’t look at him but he does move his hand toward something at his side and hands him a bottle of Ogden’s, which is not nearly as empty as his eyes. He’s shivering but his fingers don’t tremble as he brings his cigarette to his mouth and takes a drag.

Regulus casts a warming charm, first on Sirius then on himself, and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat. Sirius’s shivering lessens infinitesimally, his shoulders drawing up. He gives a small nod of acknowledgement.

Regulus opens the Firewhisky and swallows down three gulps before he gives it back to Sirius, who doesn’t hesitate to bring it to his lips and drink. It burns down his throat, but Regulus has long ago learned to swallow the bite.

Far below them, the ocean laps at the rocks, relentless, and the sky above drifts by, unbothered. The cottage behind them—he still thinks of it as Uncle Alphard’s cottage, even though he’s been dead for nearly five years and Regulus himself has been its main resident for over two years—stands tall, dark and irrefutable. Regulus wishes he could be more like any of them.

He fingers the chain around his neck, the locket hanging from it, now harmless and charred, a reminder of how far he and Sirius have come, of how much they’ve accomplished—but also of how much more awaits them. The ring and the cup are already taken care of, both of them resting safely in the drawers of the desk in Alphard’s study, but Regulus knows, as does Sirius, that there are more. How many more, neither one can tell.

Seven, Sirius said, citing the reason they both knew well—the most powerful, the most balanced number in use of magic; their mother made sure they knew that before they could properly walk. Seven parts of a soul, six Horcruxes.

Two years to have found and destroyed three. But they were long, hard years and each passing day begs the question how many more there can be before Sirius ends up the one destroyed.

Regulus wishes he could be the one to don the mask like armour, to be the one to shield Sirius for a change, that Sirius could be the one to stay home, safe and behind so many protective charms that Voldemort himself wouldn’t be able to get through. But Regulus is dead, at least to the rest of the world, and right now that is their greatest advantage.

“I’m sorry about Rosie,” Regulus tells him.

Sirius, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. He only takes a drag of the cigarette and says in an exhale of smoke and shaky breath, “I’m sorry about Evan.”

“He was more your friend than mine, at this point,” Regulus says softly, but the sting of Evan’s death has yet to let go. He is glad to know that Evan, at least, went down on his own terms, if with questionable loyalties; though the fact that he was questioning his loyalty to Voldemort brings Regulus little satisfaction in the face of his bitter and unnecessary death, he is proud of Evan for having even considered it, for listening to Sirius before Regulus dared to. Only one more thing he can add to his list of regrets: he never told Evan how proud he was of him, how sorry for everything he had put him through; that he was and will always be his best friend.

“It’s a worse world regardless,” Sirius says. He sounds dead and shaken and freezing but Regulus cannot blame him. Rosie was his best friend, his most constant supporter through all of this; that he was forced to lose her is a cruel, cruel thing but the fact that he has to go on and serve the man that is in a way responsible for her death is yet crueler.

“Yeah,” Regulus agrees, reaching over to swipe the Firewhisky and take another swing, “it is.”

Sirius stays silent. His profile, the line nearly identical to Regulus’s, as they were constantly told, is outlined against the starry sky, the waxing moon. Regulus’s heart tugs apart and breaks for him, for all that he has done and failed to do. He was a Gryffindor, a Marauder, and maybe he still has the possibility of being one again but right now, he is just a man, barely grown up from a boy, as vicious as he is devoted, who hates as fiercely as he loves, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, grieving the death of a friend. There was a time one could read every emotion from his brother's face, could know what he was feeling just by glancing at him.

There isn't much on Sirius's face these days, not beyond the lines and dark bags around his eyes.

Regulus cannot stand it so he looks away, towards the sea below, towards the dark horizon. The village down the hill is lit in soft, flickering lights, some of the Muggle youth shouting and laughing in anticipation of midnight, only minutes away. Regulus knows they have fireworks and he is looking forward to it, those little flashes of light in a world that has gone entirely too dark.

Sirius wasn’t with him for Christmas; he only arrived a couple of hours ago, silent, dejected, but the Daily Prophet, with a number of death reports and missing cases, told Regulus all he needed to know about his previous whereabouts anyway. He doesn’t mind Sirius’s absence, but it hurts him to see what happens to him in that time, how deeper into himself he goes. He’s always come back but on some days, more so in the last month, Regulus fears he won’t.

It’s a scary thing, watching someone die with their heart still beating.

He wonders if that’s how Sirius felt when he joined the Death Eaters to protect his stupid little brother, when he stood as a shield between him and their parents, expecting to wage a war against an army, only to be stabbed in the back instead.

Regulus closes his eyes. In a whole lifetime of regret, in years and years of trying, he can never repay Sirius, can never undo the pain he’s caused him over and over again. He still remembers the words Sirius, at his wit’s end, beaten down to the fucking bottom, shouted at him. They were the first words to really reach him, to hit home, to twist in his heart, and make it bleed straight out of his mouth.

I don’t need you to be with me, I just need you not to be with them.

Regulus didn’t know then and he doesn’t know now how to make any of it better. But he likes to think he’s succeeding in trying.

There is a series of loud bangs, nearly explosions, and they both look up to see that the village boys have released the fireworks that now crackle and light up the sky. Regulus hums at the sight, always feeling a little childish delight when he gets the pleasure to watch fireworks.

Christmases in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black were always a stuffy affair, for which they were forced to dress up in the most stifling of robes so that Walburga and Orion could parade them in front of their family and other associates like trophies, either in the house they were forced to call home or whichever soulless mansion the party had been organised at. Cries and complaints were always dealt with quickly and quietly, often before anyone could even blink, but they held a promise of disciplining for either one of them that was acting up—a disciplining that Sirius always ended up getting the brunt of.

But for New Year’s Eve, their house remained blessedly empty while their parents went off to rub elbows with ministry officials and left their sons in the care of their house-elves. Sirius, before he went off to Hogwarts, always tiptoed into Regulus’s room and took him up to the roof where, swathed in blankets and drinking hot chocolate Regulus had pleaded out of Kreacher, they watched the skyline of London bathed in an explosion of colours. Regulus remembers thinking that whatever Muggles had done to deserve the treatment their mother was slowly imposing on them they surely couldn’t be that bad if they managed to create something so stunning without even the barest knowledge of magic.

His mother spent the rest of his life as she knew it trying to teach him the opposite.

One particularly large firework flies into the sky, dispersing itself into streaks of blue and green and golden that, rather than a star-like figure, dance and sizzle all around until it almost seems that there is a city in the sky, a reminder of the beauty that still lives and breathes.

“Bonne année, Reggie,” Sirius whispers, his words slipping into each other almost seamlessly. He is always different when he speaks in French, not softer exactly, but less rough around the edges, as if something in him changes when his language does. It’s not an unpleasant thought—that Sirius is a different person sometimes, that he has the potential to be more than he has been moulded into.

Regulus wonders if there is a world where Sirius is different—a world where he chose his friends, his freedom, and his happiness over Regulus and finds he doesn’t mind the possibility much; even if that means his life ended in the cave, going out with the worst memories at the front of his mind, he hopes Sirius is happy there.

“Bonne année, Sirius,” Regulus says back, smiling gently.

The fireworks fade over time, the shouts from the village settling down and drawing away, the alcohol in the bottle slowly disappearing as they pass it back and forth, accompanied by soft words, memories that are not so painful now in the darkness of the night, in the light of the new year, and with each passing breath, Sirius’s shoulders sag. His hair, long and wavy but too tangled, hangs around his face as he leans forward, tipped far too much in the direction of the ocean.

The cold bites into their hands, slipping under their robes, the warming charms having worn off, and Regulus doesn’t quite trust himself, even less so Sirius, with a bottle of alcohol at the edge of a cliff anymore. He nudges Sirius, somehow having managed to get himself on his knees and under Sirius’s arm without even being in the danger of dying.

“Allons,” he says softly, drawing them both up to stand.

Sirius is light against him, even with leaning almost his entire weight on him, the ridges of his spine prominent through his robes and cloak when Regulus readjusts him. They trudge towards the cottage, the door opening with an awkward tap of Regulus’s wand, the lights flickering on as soon as they step over the threshold. Regulus leads them past the kitchen, up the small flight of stairs, into the room that has always been unmistakably Sirius’s, even when Alphard was still alive.

The dresser is littered with pictures, small tokens Sirius has allowed himself here in this house that is unknown to all: there is James, of course—Regulus isn’t quite sure when he stopped being Potter, someone who stole Sirius away, and became James, Sirius’s other brother—and Lily right along with him; a few of Remus and a number of their group photos, all of them strategically cut to miss one person, occasionally accompanied by Marlene and Dorcas. There are only a couple of the two of them but Regulus doesn’t mind—Sirius has him as a reminder that he is here, he doesn’t need a picture for it. The one of Evan and Rosie, blonde hair like halos around their heads, both laughing as they lean into each other, brother and sister, the martyr and the avenger, makes his mouth taste like iron but he is comforted by the fact that wherever they are now, they have each other.

He lays Sirius down on the bed and somehow manages to wrangle him out of his coat, throwing it on the chair nearby. Sirius is awake, grey eyes blinking slowly as they search Regulus’s face. He reaches out, swallowing, and touches the pale, age-faded scar across Regulus’s throat.

Regulus can only imagine a sliver of what that scar represents to Sirius. He has his own, plenty of them, but Regulus thinks this one is the greatest reminder of his pain and suffering, of all he has had to give up and destroy. Regulus remembers that night in flashes, although he has tried for years to get back the memories that his mother created and then took; he remembers Sirius on the floor, screaming, and his mother’s pointed wand, first at Sirius and then at him, his father’s booming, unforgiving voice and the cold bite of a blade against the skin of his throat. He thinks sometimes it is better that he doesn’t know and always feels the pang of guilt at leaving Sirius to be the only one to carry the burden.

“Pas de regret,” Sirius whispers now, curling his hand into a fist as he draws it back.

A lump forms in Regulus’s throat. “Je t’aime, Sirius,” he murmurs into the space that isn’t quite in the right direction but loud enough that he knows Sirius can hear him.

Sirius pauses, blinking. His eyes aren’t wide, exactly, but there is a surprise to them that seems almost youthful. Then his entire face softens, opens like cracks through a pavement, and he reaches out again to sweep Regulus’s hair out of his eyes. “Love you too, little brother,” he says softly, then closes his eyes, his breaths coming in soft and slow.

Regulus knows better than to believe it but he takes the dismissal for what it is and stumbles toward the door. Once he steadies himself against the doorframe, he looks back at Sirius—except there is no Sirius anymore. Instead, curled over the thick duvets, specked with starlight, Padfoot lies, his side rising and falling steadily.

Outside, the sky is bathed in red and gold.

[hpdabbles]

Bittersweet Regret

“Hey, Padfoot, isn’t that your brother?”  Prongs ask pointing into the crowd. Sirius turns from where he had been admiring the snow on Moony’s hair, face twisting into a sneer before he even spotted his brother.

Things have been tense between them for years, but Regulus had been making it worse this past summer with his consent defense of their mother. Recently she has taken to hexing him for any and every “blood-traitor behavior”, spewing her pro-Death Eater propaganda while doing so.

His mother’s wand happy tendencies were not a new personality trait but they were starting to get tiresome, enough so that Sirius was honestly considering never going back. The streets were a better option than being trapped inside that Merlin awful place. 

Not that Regulus understood this. No, he was the perfect little pureblood son his parents so desperately wanted. Mother’s favorite as she often showed and said. He insisted Sirius brought it upon himself for testing her so often causing her temper to snap. 

She didn’t mean to hurt you. Regulus insisted as if though Sirius slamming his bedroom door in his face meant he could still talk to him through the wood. Mother is just upset right now. She’ll calm down later and you can apologize then. Please stop fighting with her Sirius. 

Regulus claim things would get better if he just bends to Walburga’s will. If they did as they were expected then the two wouldn’t be hurt anymore. 

It made his blood boil, his stupid little brother who was too soft to fight back, to leave, to realize that the blood purity they worship so much was devastating the country with its war. His brother who was determined to be the perfect son and uphold the family traditions. 

Sure enough, as Prongs said, there was Regulus, wearing his best robes, acting as the perfect pureblood wizard. He was currently fixing his hair in a window, a healthy flush on his cheeks as he adjusted his black locks, so similar to Sirius but cut short to appease their parents. 

“Yeah, that’s him.” He bites out suddenly angry. Frustration and misplaced jealousy- because he hates them he does, but it hurts to know his parents love his brother more-  making his chest hurt.

“What’s he doing here?” Moony asks with a frown.  “Regulus doesn’t come to the Hogsmeade trips. He usually stays up in the castle, reading or something.”

Which was true. His little brother couldn’t even go on the magical field trips without getting permission from dear old mum, who thought mixing with the commoners was below them. Despite the fact Hogsmeade was available since the third year Regulus hadn’t been once and he would look longingly at the wagons instead, the only fourth-year to never board. 

 Somedays Sirius really pitied him but not enough to do anything. After all, Regulus was happy to be a good little puppet.

But it seemed today he was actually feeling adventurous enough to come to the wizarding village. The question is why? Was the Slytherin up to something? It took him a moment to realize he asked out loud by the way his friends gave each other uneasy looks.

“Let’s go find out,” Wormtail suggested and that sounded like a great idea. The four made their way across the street, and this close Sirius noticed that his brother was wearing the same robes his mother got him for his last birthday. It had his namesake on the back, tastefully shining against the black fabric and fell gracefully on his shoulders.

The perfect pureblood.  

He felts his irritation inch a bit higher, the burning in his chest angry and vile. 

“A bit lost aren’t you Reg?” Sirius sneered a little surprised by the venom in his own voice.

His brother flinched, turning away from the window. For a second a flash of guilt and fear bleed onto his face before his expression cooled. Locked away, somewhere in his eyes, and the mask of aristocratic indifference that the two Blacks perfected since they were young took place on his features. 

 Regulus straighten, tilting his chin up as he gracefully claps his hands together.  “I know where I am. Thank you for your concern.”

“Not concern” He hisses hating how his brother just didn’t seem to care. Didn’t react. Why was he always the puppet? Didn't he feel anything?! “Just wondering why a slimy Slytherin like you came out of his hiding hole.”

In his brother's silver eyes, an emotion that came close to heartbreak flared up before it hardens to pure hate.  “That’s none your business Blood traitor”

Sirius's hands curled into fists. He would have gone for his wand had it not been for Moony’s hand grabbing his forearm. It took his friend squeezing his limb for him to realize that Regulus had backed up, pressing himself against the glass of the window, the same slightly terrified and caged expression he often directed at their mother now being sent to him.

Sirius is nothing like his mother, he isn’t. Why was Regulus looking at him like he was? Why!?

Moony cleared his throat.  “Let’s all just take a deep breath and calm down, yes? Black, we just wondering why you were here and if you needed help with something but if you rather we leave you be, we will. You just seemed unsure is all.”

There is a momentary pause where Regulus eyed his older brother closely then he relaxes and admitted in a weary voice. “I am rather new to the area. I don’t suppose you know....where the Shrieking Shack is?”

Every Marauder stiffens up at the question and Sirius steps in front of Moony, attempting to shield him, without really thinking about it. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m meeting a....friend there,” Regulus says with great dignity. A blush once again paints his cheeks but his eyes are hard as they stare back into the same sliver of Sirius’s own.

“You don’t have friends. Who in their right mind would want to befriend you?”   

“Merlin Padfoot” Prongs hisses just as the words catch up with him and he sees the obvious flinch his brother does. Wormtail makes a noise that sounds like a cross between concern and scared.

Regulus swallows, blinking his eyes quickly. A dead give away of him attempting not to cry as he turns his head away. Sirius feels his stomach drop all the anger zapping out of his body and he’s feeling hopeless, numb even, as his brother shoulders tense and hunch.

“I can find it on my own.” There is a waver in Regulus' voice, breaking a bit on the last word before his brother scurries away, rushing into the crowd. He disappears going in the wrong direction of where he needs to go and Sirius watches him go with no small amounts of guilt.

A hand suddenly smacks the back of his head courtesy of one very livid Moony. “Who in their right mind would want to befriend you? Seriously Padfoot?”

“I-”

“You made him cry!”

“I- I know. I didn’t mean to.”

“Go fix it then!”

 Moony pushes him from behind, just what he needs for his feet to start pumping them to take him into the crowd. He can’t see his brother, doesn’t see him for a good twenty minutes but eventually, he finds him.

He finds him crying into some bloke’s chest in front of the Shrieking Shack, the stranger’s hands running up and down his back. Sirius stops just out of their sight taking them in. For a frozen moment, he thinks it’s Prongs comforting his brother but then he realizes the hair is too long, the height is off and the stranger is wearing muggle clothing. 

He is also pressing kisses to his brother’s tear cover face something Prongs would never do. Not to a bloke at least. The action....well now Sirius knows why Regulus had blushed when he mentioned him earlier. 

Sirius hates his family....but he never hated Regulus despite how he behaved, what he says and he wishes that being near him didn’t make Sirius such a hateful person. But there is too much between them, too many regrets, too many nasty feelings.

He came here to apologize to Regulus. Instead, Sirius feels his feet turning away shame making it impossible to bother them. He walks and walks until he’s back in the Gryffindor tower, safely under his bed covers before he allows the tears to run down his face.

The next day everyone is in an uproar.  

Regulus Black is gone. 

His things had disappeared from his dorm, and all that was left on the unmade bed is a single note explaining that he didn’t wish to be found nor to cause worry as he has chosen to go willingly with his half-blood boyfriend.

He ran away and no matter what the Aurors try they can not find them. Sirius spends the whole year wondering if the two brothers are more alike then he thought. 

He hopes he’s safe, wherever he is. 

[ashes-and-ashes]

Could you please please do 100 for wolf star? I really love your writing and it would be so cool!

Thanks so much!! I really hope you like this (even though it may not be exactly what you wanted...)

~

Sacrifices

He’s almost surprised to see Regulus there.

He’s dressed in all black, like a mourner at a funeral, his face pale and set. His hair is gelled back neatly, so different from Sirius, all soft curls and wildness, strands that Remus had run his hands through multiple times. There’s a neutral expression pasted onto his face; his head slightly tilted, eyes flat and it would have worked had Remus not seen Sirius make that same expression so many times before.

He doesn’t bother to try and school his face into something pleasant. Remus just swoops down, grabs Regulus’ arm and marches him into the nearest room he can find.

The lights are off: Remus slams his hand against the switch, a silencing charm placed over the room. He’s still gripping Regulus’ arm, hard, right over where the Mark would be. Regulus’ eyes flash - he obvious recognized Remus’ threat, subtle as it was.

“What,” Remus says slowly, “Are you doing here?”

Regulus doesn’t flinch. “Is it a crime to see my brother? Especially when he’s at St Mungos?”

“It is when your Death Eater scum friends put him in here,” Remus counters.

Something like pain flashes across Regulus’ face. It’s gone in an instant, that flat mask sliding across his features. “Careful, Lupin. Accusations are dangerous, especially if against the wrong person.”

Remus throws back his head and laughs. He releases Regulus’ arm, the room ringing with his mocking chuckles. “God, you sound just like how he described her.”

“Powerful?”

“A bitch.”

Regulus just shrugs. “I’ve heard worse.”

He can’t take it. Hatred boils in his gut, rage and anger. He remembers Sirius, the scars on his body, the seizures from dark magic, all the nightmares and the screaming and the hidden, stifled sobs.

You did this, he wants to scream. You and your bitch of a mother.

“Why the hatred, Lupin?” Regulus says softly, no doubt seeing the hot flashes of rage in Remus’ eyes. “I know hate when I see it. What did I ever do to you?”

“Not me,” Remus says, “But to him.”

Regulus blanches.

“You don’t understand anything.”

“Oh?” Remus raises an eyebrow. “How many years was it, Regulus? 4? 5?”

Regulus closes his eyes. “6 years.”

“Yeah.” The anger is bubbling up in him now, all the rage and the fustration. He hates it, hates Regulus, the unmarked skin, the scars of Walburga taken out on Sirius instead. “I sat with him. I helped him as he sobbed from the pain of his wounds. I’ve seen him when suffering nightmares - do you know what he calls out when he sleeps, Regulus?”

There’s a terrible, burning brightness in Regulus’ eyes as Remus says, “Don’t. Don’t hurt him, please, it was me, it was my fault - “

“Stop,” Regulus breathes. His face was chalk white, his teeth digging into his bottom lip and God, how many times has he watched Sirius do that? Bite down, lock the screams away behind teeth, swallow it down with blood. Sirius always told him that he refused, refused to scream, held it back until he thought his throat would be shredded apart because he couldn’t let Regulus see how bad Walburga was hurting him.

Remus grits his teeth. “Stop?”

“Please,” Regulus whispers. His face is raw, anguished and it pulls Remus back, 4 years ago, that exact expression on Sirius’ face as he collapsed at the foot of James’ door.

He can see it, the utter difference between the two brothers. Regulus, all buttoned up, gelled hair and shiny shoes and pristine skin. Sirius, all wild and burning, breathtaking and beautiful, so different from the cold elegance of his brother.

And yet they were so alike. The marble masks, the bitten lips, down to the way Regulus was knitting his fingers together, squeezing until his fingers went white. Remus wonders which brother taught the other - if all these secret bits and pieces were a result of copying each other.

He turns his glare back on Regulus. “Don’t? What the fuck do you mean, don’t? Feeling guilty? You watched as he was tortured for 6 years!”

Regulus takes a deep breath. “I - “

“You became a fucking Death Eater! You’re on the other fucking side - you tried to kill me, and him, and all of his friends and you still try and bullshit your way into saying you care about him?”

“Do you think,” Regulus says slowly, his voice soft and dangerous and so, so like Sirius’, “That I wanted to become a Death Eater?”

“Apparently,” Remus says coldly. “You watched your own brother get beaten halfway to death. What do you care about a group of muggles?”

Regulus just shakes his head. He looks down; the sleeves of his robe slip down, and Remus can just see the dark, curling edges of the Mark. “I didn’t want to.”

“Oh,” Remus says sarcastically, “Of course. The pampered prince didn’t want to - “

“You have no idea what we went through.” Regulus spits, temper flaring at last. “You have no idea - you and Sirius, you don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve had to do - “

“Sit on your ass whilst your brother was tortured?”

Regulus is almost shouting now, his normally cool facade ripped away. “Think! You love my brother for fuck’s sakes. Do you think he could have been a Death Eater? It would have killed him!”

“She would have killed him!”

There are tears in Regulus’ eyes now, and dimly Remus realizes that he’s never seen Regulus like this before. “He needed to get out! That was the only way they wouldn’t make him take the Mark you asshole. He needed to leave, to run - “

“He stayed because of you! He stayed to protect you!”

“Why do you think he left? Because he fucking hated me. Who did that in the first place?”

“You made him hate you, not your bitch of a mother!”

“Finally.” Regulus spits. “Finally, you come to the fucking conclusion.”

Remus stares at him. “What the hell are you talking about.”

“Me.” Regulus closes his eyes. “He leaves. I stay. I take the Mark.”

It’s as if the world comes crashing down around Remus. He stares, at Regulus, the agony rippling in his eyes, and again he realizes his similar the two of them looked. “How bad was it?”

Regulus shakes his head. “Bad enough to make him leave.”

Remus remembers the wounds, the slashes and the blood. His back looked like his mother had taken a saw to it, all ripped flesh and bits of bone, the silvery-white pinpricks of Crucio covering his body. He didn’t know how Sirius had survived that, the absolute wreck of his body.

“I tried,” Regulus whispers. “I tried to get her to stop. She only used Crucio once on me, but it was...” He takes a shuddering breath. “I don’t know how he bore it. The pain...it’s enough to drive someone mad.”

It hurts, Sirius had told him, so long ago, but not as much as it would hurt to turn into a Wolf. That’s what I tell myself whenever she hurts me. If you can do it, so can I.

“Did he scream?”

Only Regulus would understand. Regulus, who must have stood over his brother’s broken body so many times. Regulus, who would have heard it; his mother’s rants, Sirius’ stuttering breaths, his utter refusal to scream.

Defiance. That’s what Remus saw, in both of them, defiance that ran down deep into their bones.

Regulus meets his gaze. “At the very end.”

Remus looks away, trying not to think of Sirius breaking like that, hoarse whimpers and cracking screams. “How?” he whispers. “How do you - how do you do that? Sacrifice so much for each other. How do you...survive?”

Regulus just gives him a sad smile. “Tell me you wouldn’t do it. Tell me you wouldn’t destroy the earth, raze heaven, burn Hell itself to save someone you love.”

Remus bites his lip. “I can’t.”

Regulus just shrugs. One hand goes to his arm, where the Mark now was, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “It hurt,” he whispers. “Hurt so fucking bad to give it up. I had dreams, you know. Dreams of a life, away from my mother, away from Voldemort. I gave it up for him.”

He locks eyes with Remus suddenly, his gaze burning. “Promise me,” he says, his eyes so bright. “Promise me you’ll stay with him. He loved you, so much, more then he ever loved me. Don’t break his heart.”

“I won’t,” Remus says. “I swear it.”

[withthekeyisking-writer]

What's your fav fic that you wrote yourself?

This is such a challenging question! Like asking which of my children is my favorite 😂 I could definitely tell you a few of my least favorite though lol, no prob. Some of my older stuff—oof.

Alright, so since I really can’t pick a singular fav (I currently have 101 posted works, that’s just not gonna happen) how about I give a top 10? Not exactly what you asked, but eh life is like that 😁

So, in no particular order, my top ten fav fics that I’ve written:

1. Starting with the one that’s a large presence in my mind, (No) Places of Safety. This fic is my baby right now, shaping up to be one of the biggest things I’ve ever written (already at 69k and not even close to done) which is super amazing, because I usually have a problem with sticking to things after a while. I really love the way I’ve handled Dick’s deteriorating mental state, and I love the fact that I know exactly where it’s going, and have from the very beginning (again, rare for me. Usually things come together as I’m writing, and while that’s still happening, it’s been awesome having an actual solid plan and destination). I love the universe I’ve set up here, and am so excited with every chapter to show you guys what comes next. Hell I love this universe so much that I already have the whole next fic planned out 😋

2. Next I’ll say Three Little Birds Sat On My Window. I loved writing a reverse batfam, and am so proud of the way this fic turned out. I really spent a lot of time trying to get everyone’s voices right, how different they would be considering how different their life experiences would be. Tim and Jason especially were important to get right, with Tim being the one who died instead. I always hated in reverse batfam fics when people just make Tim’s version of Red Hood exactly the same as what Jason was like, because they’re different people and would have different ways of approaching things. So even in just the little glimpses I wrote, I’m really proud of their characterizations, along with that of Damian and Dick! I’m just overall very proud of this fic, and definitely wan to write more of this AU at some point in the future.

3. Third we’ll go with An Active Imagination (and, with it, the sequel Rules of Architecture). Thinking about these fics and working on them ways makes me excited as a writer. Like I don’t really have a lot to say about these, just that I really love the way I handled Dick’s shifting mental state, going back and forth between the brainwashing and having him be not at all aware of what’s going on. I also love how super creepy Slade is lol, how unabashedly awful. Plus writing a BAMF Dick is always a blast, and the Dick in these two fics is especially badass.

4. Next up is Take My Hand Through the Flames, because writing dark!Dick was so fucking fun, and something I need to do again very soon. Dick is so messed up here, so blood-thirsty and masochistic and crazy, which is something that I’ve never been able to truly do when I mainly write Dick. So that plus building an Earth 3 universe (pulling in Joey and Rose and what Dick’s dynamic with Thomas is like) was a blast to do.

5. Hmmm then let’s go with If Night Falls in Your Heart (and am just now realizing how often I use song lyrics and quotes for my titles). Exploring the trauma of what Catalina and Mirage did to Dick was something necessary for me to write, and it helped me work through some of my own shit I was struggling with. (Writing is the best coping mechanism!) Dick desperately needs people to help him and tell him none of that was his fault, and since canon certainly isn’t going to do it, I took it upon myself lol. Plus I’ve become strangely fond Dave the Unimportant Villain 😂

6. Sixth on the list is How Arbitrary Fate Is, an AU I am extremely fond of and seriously need to come back to. Teen Titans (cartoon) ‘verse is always something I enjoy writing, and extending the apprentice arc, playing with Stockholm Syndrome, blending Dick’s loyalty to his friends with his growing loyalty to Slade, how he reaches acceptance that this is his life now—I am so proud of the way this fic turned out. I have an entire sequel planned out in my head, other things have simply taken precedent. I will come back to it, though. Lol I want to scream from the rooftops to get everyone to love this fic as much as I do 😁

7. Now I’ll say A Current of Fate, which is something I go back and forth on loving but it always draws my attention back to it. I hate that I’ve set it aside for so long, I think there’s so much fucking potential in this world I’ve set up, and I really want everyone to see the way it’s playing out in my head!! But for that I’d actually have to keep writing it lol, the horror. Sometime soon (when I have less active projects on my hands) I’ll go back to this fic and edit it a little, update it to how much more confident I’ve become in my writing, especially of DC characters. Also Chapter 4 has been half written for literally a year now and it has Black Mask in it; since beginning that chapter I’ve become far more familiar with Roman (and written a lot of him lol) so reworking that chapter in the main priority, and then I think I can really move forward with this fic. I know exactly what happens, I just have to get there!! (Coincidentally, today is the year anniversary of the last time I updated this.)

8. Leaving the DC fandom, next we’re going with The Source of Grief. My Harry Potter fics have been touch and go, I can admit that, but I’m very proud of this one. I really loved doing the outside POV, everyone observing the actions of Harry and not really knowing who he is or what his motives are. I also got to address all my feelings about Severus Snape, which was awesome. Just, fixing problems and making things better was wonderful to write, and I got to put in some subtle Wolfstar lol, and talk about how Regulus Black doesn’t get enough credit. Idk, I’m kind of rambling, but I’m proud of this fic.

9. Ninth is One of the Legion Lost (plus its sequel Want the Strange and New). They’re both my Fuck You to Infinity War lol (which I liked a lot more than I know most people do, but still it needed some help). Loki is one of my favs, and bringing him into the plot of the movie and adjusting things from there is the kind of thing I love to do—what are the repercussions if just one thing is different? Also I enjoyed exploring the magic of the infinity stones! There was so much that could be done with them, with their level of sentience that was never really expanded upon, so I liked doing that.

10. Now we have People Who Move the World. A James Bond & Sherlock crossover, where Q and Jim are brothers. I got super far in this fic! 15 chapters and 94k, it’s a real beast. I love how I wrote Q, his relationship with Jim and Bond and Sherlock, and the odd little Q/Mycroft ship that I’ve become strangely fond of considering how strange the ship is lol. Just writing a bunch of absolute geniuses BAMFs ruling the world and making things go the way they want to them. Like, Q and Jim make such an awesome team and I know it’s such a niche fic but I’m really proud of it. Sucks that a majority of the ideas dried up lol, because I’m very pleased with what I created.

+1: Honorable mention! Breathe with Confidence. First time I ever wrote anything in the Star Wars universe, and it’s absolutely something I’m gonna have to come back to. The AU has a lot of potential, and I know exactly how I’d address the future of Dick’s story. Plus some side fics of the family’s reactions to what happened, the confusion over Dick’s disappearance. And in this fic itself I liked writing Slade’s manipulations, Dick’s desires, the small amounts of background I included. Idk, I just think this world is super cool.

Well, I hope you enjoyed reading this long drawn out thing! Probably more info than you were looking for 😁😅

[alternislatronemhq]

Congrats, Karli, you have been accepted to AL for the role of Sirius Black (FC: Rob Raco). Wow, Karli, well done! As I was reading your app, I found myself totally taken in by your characterization of Sirius. You really understand him the way that I had envisioned him for this plot — the slightly immature, bitter, grudge holding mischief maker who has had to grow up and be a parent because of the loss of his brother and best friend. You really had a grasp of the plot and I found myself getting so excited to play Lily alongside you. Just, really great job, I’m so excited to have you here! Please send in your blog (no sideblogs for first characters, please) in the next 24 hours and be sure to take a look at our new player checklist.Welcome home, we’re so excited to have you join the family!

OOC

name — Karli age — 29 pronouns — she/her timezone — CST activity level — Probably an 7-8 right now. I’m off work for summer break with a few things to do here and there, but I’m typically on every day and doing replies every couple of days. It might lessen in the fall months but right now, I’m VERY free!

IC Overview

name — Sirius Orion Black age — 26 | 3 November 1959 gender — Cis-male sexuality — If asked, Sirius would say he doesn’t like labels. He’s fluid - people know that. He sleeps around with many genders, but doesn’t really make an announcement about it. He also doesn’t work for it. If someone wants to have sex with him, he’s likely pretty open to it. But he also isn’t going to put in much effort to make it happen. He’s not a relationship-type of bloke and, even though there are people out there who think they can “change him,” no one has been able to yet. In more modern terms, he’s likely pansexual, aromantic (on the spectrum of little romantic attraction over no romantic attraction). But he wouldn’t know that, nor does he really care to know it. Sex is sex. That’s all.

patronus — Sirius has always struggled with producing a corporeal patronus. Perhaps it was the necessity of focusing on one good thing that made the spell work - or maybe it’s just that Sirius isn’t as good with the abstract stuff as he likes to think. During the moments where it did work during the war, it was a large black dog, unsurprising to anyone who knew of his animagus form. He liked to smirk at James - or perhaps Remus or Peter, if they were around - whenever it popped from his wand. After the war, however, there wasn’t much use for the spell. The last time he performed it had been during his extracurricular project with Dumbledore… and he was surprised at what he saw. No longer the dog moving swiftly, brightly from his wand… but, instead, a brilliant form of a stag, large hooves and antlers that once matched James’ patronus. However, when the stag turned towards him, showing the familiar markings around its eyes, Sirius realized… it wasn’t just James’ old patronus, but rather Prongs himself. It had taken his breath away for a moment, causing a near-fatal distraction that needed Dumbledore’s help to escape.

boggart — Sirius’ boggart is a silver mask, but not for the reasons one might expect. He is less afraid of being a follower of Voldemort than he is about what that would mean about him. It would mean he conformed to what his family wanted - and conformity is Sirius’ biggest fear… or, at least, that’s what he’d tell someone. In reality, especially with another looming war, he is likely more afraid of Harry ending up like his father - or dead. But, in the moment, conformity would be Sirius’ biggest fear.

IC In Depth

personality traits —

[+] Loyal - There’s a reason Sirius’ animagus form is a dog - he is loyal to those he cares about. In the past, this was in relationship to the Marauders, particularly James more than anyone, but has changed as the years have gone by and things shifted. He is now mostly loyal to Harry - and, by extension, Lily. The problem with Sirius’ loyalty is that it can be very dark. Peter is out - and that’s forever. There is no coming back with Sirius once he views something as a betrayal and that includes someone he used to love.

[+] Intelligent - It’s not something easily identifiable by just looking at him, but Sirius is smart. In the books, he was one of the only people ever to escape Azkaban. In school, he hardly had to study and managed to keep up good grades and make his way through Hogwarts without trying. He’s careless in this intelligence sometimes, assuming he just knows without really thinking much about it. His “smarts” do well in both books and streets - he knows how to navigate life at the bar where he works and that different sort of nightlife. He’s a good dueller, able to use intuition to anticipate the moves of his opponent. The intelligence he does have helped to design the Marauders Map, become an animagus, and find and destroy the Horcruxes with Dumbledore.

[+] Open-Minded - Not the best word for this with Sirius, who can be incredibly stubborn and unwilling to change, but there is a reason he didn’t chuck out a werewolf as a friend, despite the teachings by his family. While Sirius himself is rather indifferent to these sorts of things, he does listen - and maybe, in part, this was due to James - and try to be better. Once, as a child, he thought muggleborns were scum… then he grew up, met more open-minded people, and followed their lead. He tries and that’s more than some others.

[+/-] Highly Emotional - Sirius is impulsive and uses emotions to make decisions before he thinks it through. This is what led him to trying to kill Peter the night James almost died - this is what leads him into at least half the arguments he has. He didn’t think through the “Prank” with Remus and Snape… just did it… because he thought it would be funny. That being said - this isn’t always a bad thing. He feels big and that means happiness, too. He can make Harry laugh more than anyone because he loves to joke around and play with him. He’s protective and those emotions come into play whenever someone is trying to mess with his family. It can just sometimes be hard for someone to truly know what they might be getting with him, as he can often flip from one emotion to the next rather quickly.

[-] Jealous/Distrustful - Sirius doesn’t accept change very easily when it comes to his outside world, particularly friendships. He wasn’t very keen on Lily in the beginning of her relationship with James because of his fear that she would “take his best friend away.” It made him mean - even aggressive - towards her, until James put a stop to it. When he finally realized that Lily could be in love with his best friend and he could still have his friendship, he cooled down and was more willing to bring her into his life. It wasn’t until the war that she truly became part of his family and that’s stuck with him since then, especially more so since James didn’t wake up. He’s now more likely to side-eye others she brings around, suspicious of them and their intentions, particularly if it is a man he’s worried about trying to hit on her. He doesn’t trust easily but, once a person has earned it, it’s much easier for him to open up.

[-] Resentful/Vindictive - Sirius Black knows how to hold a grudge. Once someone is dead to him, they are dead to him. He has made it a point that he will kill Peter Pettigrew one day and that has not gone away. Even though there’s part of him glad that he never got the chance five years ago (despite his best effort), he hasn’t given up hope. It’s not just good enough for Peter to die… he wants to be the one to do it. There’s also the grudge with Remus. While this one is to much a lesser extent, he’s angry that Remus hasn’t forgiven him, but has forgiven everyone else. He’s wary of Remus being around Harry because he thinks anyone around his godson should have to be okay with him. This is an argument that often peaks with him and Lily. He’s apologized to Remus - he hates himself for what happened to James - it’s about time Remus just got over it and realized that.

[-] Ruthless - Sirius is willing to do anything to get something done. If it had come to it during war, he wouldn’t have been above torture of a captured Death Eater and definitely killed without blinking an eye. His world is often very black and white - therefore, the good guys were good and the bad guys were bad. He’s willing to do what it takes to make sure he gets revenge for James. He’ll do anything to get the Horcruxes and take down Voldemort. He’ll do whatever he has to in order to protect Harry.

character biography —

Born to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, Sirius Black was the son his parents wanted - or so they originally thought. Cousins, Walburga and Orion married one another only to produce an heir. There was no love within their relationship, just duty - when the first son came, they were almost thrilled. But perhaps Sirius’ mother was just as suspicious as him because she forced her husband into bed again and again for a second child… just in case.

As if turned out, they would need it. Regulus was a docile baby, while Sirius had been finicky. They played well together as they aged and, despite being one another’s deepest confidants, there was clear favoritism from his parents to the younger son. This was rarely violent, but Walburga, particularly, made it clear that she preferred the way Sirius’ brother learned the proper pureblood ways so much more quickly than he did. Orion was rather indifferent to his family in general, preferring the young girls at the underground clubs - sometimes a bit too young for society’s tastes.

Despite many not realizing this, Sirius did try to be the son his parents wanted… at first. He believed what they believed - he did what he was told. But he screwed up often. Questioned things without thinking them through - talked out of turn. Whenever Regulus messed something up, Sirius would try his best to take the fall, ensuring any wrath of his mother stayed on him over his younger brother. As he grew, he began to see more of the world. But it wasn’t until he met James Potter on the train to Hogwarts that he began to change his beliefs. When he talked about the dangers of mudbloods, James set him straight - made sure to keep that word out of Sirius’ mouth. When he questioned the sanity of Muggles, James shrugged and said he thought they weren’t all that bad. It opened his eyes to something new. They were joined by Remus and Peter that year - and, while Sirius loved them, too, he truthfully could care less about expanding the group in the beginning.

The closer he got to his new friends, the farther away he got from the Black family name. He stopped writing home - stopped paying much attention to Regulus. In his young mind, he didn’t realize how detrimental this might be to his brother, but he was wrapped up in this new life. Gryffindor - change - rebellion. It was intoxicating. James became the most important person in Sirius’ life and he clung to his friend with all he had. They pulled pranks as a group, learned about Remus, found a way to help him. The Marauders were born and a map was made and life was good. It didn’t matter that the shadow of his brother donned in Slytherin robes hung over Hogwarts sometimes because Sirius ruled the school. Grimmauld was Regulus’ - Hogwarts was his.

When he decided to tell Severus Snape about the Willow, he hadn’t been thinking. But, really, nothing happened! Remus was being rather dramatic, in Sirius’ opinion! It was just a prank! Why couldn’t anyone else see that? They were mad at him for a while - probably some of the darkest times in Sirius’ life at school, the inability to be with friends - but they came around and it was restored. Things were good - things were right.

Then the war came and it was like the Marauders were thrust into adulthood with Sirius clinging to the life they had. The Order made sense for all of them - they were built for a revolution. But it wasn’t as much of an adventure as they assumed it would be. People died every day - battles were brutal. But Sirius still took it less seriously than he should’ve. He revelled in the fight, laughing alongside his best mate as they shot curses at those fucking cult-followers. He cracked jokes about Voldemort’s dick being so small he had to make an army to try and make up for it. He smiled with blood running down his face into his lips, tasting the iron. He was fearless - and reckless. War wasn’t a game, but Sirius treated it as one.

And it made some people angry. Perhaps that was why Remus suspected him for the spy - or maybe it was lingering distrust over the Willow. Sirius couldn’t help his old prejudices coming up as war grew into their veins, swimming through their blood. A werewolf. Remus had always been able to hold secrets… perhaps this was one of them.

When James was targeted - well, young Harry, but James - Sirius didn’t hesitate to name Remus the spy. James may not have been able to see it… but Peter, Sirius said. We’ll use Peter! No one will suspect! And perhaps that judgement was his worst mistake of all. For Peter was the spy. Peter would come to betray them. And when Voldemort died, there wasn’t much time for celebration because less than a week later, James was found on the ground of Godric’s Hollow, unable to wake up.

Sirius knew who was at fault -it was him! He did this! His own idea! - and that person would pay. It was so much easier to react with vengeance than feel his own guilt. So much easier to want to kill his old friend than cry over his own mistakes. James was as good as dead - and Peter would die, too. Sirius knew the officials would arrest him for the murder - that he would spend his life in Azkaban - but he didn’t care. He searched for Peter the night of James’ torture with the attempt to kill him. But Peter was a rat - and there were thousands of them in London. Whether Peter was using his animagus form or not, Sirius had been unable to track him down before getting apprehended by Aurors. He stayed two days in a holding cell, grieving the near-loss of his true brother - until Lily was able to prove that the secret keeper had never been Sirius, after all.

Since that day, he vowed to do what James would’ve wanted him to do - he looked after Harry and Lily. He became the godfather he was supposed to have been. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t stop thinking about the murder he tried committing that night. If Peter were to ever resurface, Sirius would be ready. It was a good thing that he had the locket - that he had Dumbledore and the Horcruxes. It was something to keep his mind occupied. If he couldn’t kill Peter, then he could at least work on killing Voldemort, who started this entire war in the first place.

Those months after James, he spent his days with Harry and Lily and his nights searching for the Horcruxes. He would wind up back at Lily’s place in the middle of the night and crash on her couch. Eventually, he officially moved in, getting a job at a pub located right between Diagon Alley and Knockturn - causing many different types to enter into the place. These days, he still splits his time - almost like he has two lives; one where he helps raise Harry, the other in an underground nightlife world of darker wix and Horcruxes. He hasn’t forgotten his friend - James is at the forefront of everything Sirius does - or his promise to avenge him. But stopping a potential war and making sure Harry has everything he needs is just as important. Sirius has grown more responsible in the past five years, but he still holds on to much of the person he once was. There’s a chance he’ll end up doing something reckless again - something he can’t take back.

plot ideas —

ONE. I think exploring the interpersonal relationships will be the most interesting thing in this rp. This isn’t a huge action rp (as of yet) and so the quieter moments within relationships is what I’m eager to do. What will it be like trying to co-parent with Lily, when Sirius isn’t even really the parent? I think they likely butt heads and argue from time to time, while also relying heavily on one another. It’s probably in the realm of unhealthy at times, given Sirius lives with them and has devoted his new life to them. Sirius is still very much about James. So, if Lily were to try and move on with someone new, this would be very likely to anger him, even though she deserves a life with love. Then there’s Remus to think about - Remus blames Sirius, but Sirius also blames himself. He just doesn’t think Remus should hold that grudge, while forgiving others in his life. They both thought one another was the spy, after all. I also think it’ll be fun to see how Sirius and Fabian play out together as friends, particularly since they both lost a brother. I’m also looking forward to exploring relationships not within the connections and learning about these characters within this world.

TWO. James wakes up. I see you included “James Potter” as a potential plot drop release – I’m assuming this might mean he wakes up. If that’s the case, I don’t think it’ll be as easy as it would seem for Sirius. He would be glad his friend is back, of course. But it’s also complicated. Harry is only six years old - and lived a whole life without his dad. James would be this “mystery guy he’s heard about” and likely not about to jump into his dad’s arms. I don’t think Sirius would make him, either, which might be frustrating for both Sirius and James. It would complicate their relationship a lot - Harry is his kid now, after all.

THREE. Horcruxes. I think it’ll be important to bring other characters into this, especially since it’s doubtful there will ever be a Dumbledore. I’d like Sirius to be given tasks to ask others for help - and do these missions without Dumbledore present. He’s had to learn more responsibility in the past 5 years, but Sirius was never the leader (that was James), so it would be interesting for him to have to take on a leadership role.

FOUR. Fuckbuddies! I’m not really here for shipping, especially with a character like Sirius, but I think he probably has a few people he’s slept with a couple times. I’m honestly up for anyone for this, but I don’t think just anyone could end up in a romantic relationship with him. First off, he’s aromatic and it’s really hard for him to have a romantic connection. It would take time and a lot of chemistry to ever break Sirius past just sex with someone. But give me fuckbuddies all the way.

FIVE. Sirius may be more responsible than 5 years ago, but that doesn’t mean everything about him has changed. While he’s a good parent to Harry and around very often - his schedule is extremely flexible - that doesn’t always mean he knows what he’s doing. He’s likely to give in rather quickly if Harry were whining and is easily frustrated. While he has good influences around like Molly or Lily, he doesn’t always listen to what they have to say (look at him in OOTP!) and just does what he wants. I’d like to explore how his more passive parenting style might affect Harry and the people around him.

[thou-crusty-batch-of-nature]

A light in the darkness - Part 1

Warnings : angst, violence

Pairing : Remus x reader ( Sirius' twin )

A/N : This is the first part of a series. I couldn't have done it without the amazing @futurewriter2000 and her brilliant advice! Thank you SO MUCH! I really hope you'll all like it! Feel free to send me messages and feedback! 

GIF NOT MINE

"Toujours Pur" or on a more detailed translation: aristocracy, balls, blood purity and falsity. The noble, ancient house of Black; one of the oldest, wealthiest families and part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, lovers of the dark arts and born death eaters. I had the bad luck to be part of it. But I'm not the only one.

My two brothers are at completely different poles. Sirius is a rebel; charming, smart and ready to cause as much trouble as he can. Regulus, on the other hand, is mommy's boy, the perfect son. His future as heir of Black has been already planned in detail. He's always loved his status more than his siblings.

And me? I've never fitted. A free-spirited metamorphmagus, an art lover, being kept in a cage of what they call "perfection". I, as my twin brother Sirius, never wanted more than having a proper, loving family. But we have each other, and that's what matters. He's been the only one in this bloody family like me. Every ball, we are planning our next target for our pranks. Every punishment is applied at the same time. We are partners in crime. We are the Gryffindors of a lineage of Slytherins. We are pranksters and masterminds with very well practised masks. We are the Ying to their maddening Yang. And we want to break free.

***throwback***

The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, welcoming every child with a spark of magic in them; I took a look at myself, my usual black hair was now in my favourite style; dark blonde, middle length. My robes were tailored by my mother's special designer, who didn't hesitate to 'accidentally' sting me with needles at the fittings. I was ready to leave.

We arrived on platform 9 3/4 early in the morning. The children were happily running, pushing their heavy trolleys. The station was more crowded than ever. With a loving "Do not dare to drag our name through the dirt again." from our caring mother and a delicate "Behave." from our father, we entered the Hogwarts Express. As soon as we'd made ourselves comfortable in a compartment we'd found, someone entered.

"Ello! Is this seat taken?" A tall boy with messy, dark brown hair, hazel eyes and glasses entered, wide grin on his face.

"No, it's free." I said, smiling shyly.

"I'm James Fleamont Potter, but you can call me James. And you are?"

"Sirius Black."

"Y/N Black. Twins."

"Oh, that's so cool! But shouldn't you look - I don't know - the same?" he asked intrigued.

"We do, but I am a metamorphmagus. That's the look I like the most." I changed to my natural face. My long, dark, curly hair and grey eyes made me a perfect girl replica of Sirius (more beautiful, of course).

"Merlin's beard! That's bloody incredible!" His eyes were wide in surprise.

We talked the whole ride, becoming without realising inseparable.

We were entering the great hall, gazing at the starry sky mirroring on the ceiling, trying to touch the floating candles. We were passing by the other tables, glancing at the older students. Soon the ceremony started. The names began being called.

"Lucius Malfoy!" And in less than a second the hat replied "Slytherin!".

" James Potter!"

"Gryffindor!" The grin on the boy's face only widened.

After a while, my turn finally came.

"Y/N Black!" Silence. Everyone looked at me. I sat down and waited for Professor McGonagall to put the sorting hat on my head.

"Interesting...A Black with a heart of gold, loyal and a free spirit! Though you are smart and witty, too... Let's see... Gryffindor!"

For a moment, nobody said anything. Then, the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers and applause, but my brother was the loudest, screaming joyfully and whistling, still waiting for his turn. I sat next to James, who gave me a warm hug.

"Sirius Black!"

The sorting hat had to think no more than four seconds.

"Gryffindor!"

I clapped and cheered louder than ever. I ran and hugged him tightly. Without noticing, I changed my hair red and yellow, turning curious heads from every table.

Sirius, James and Peter (another boy from Gryffindor) soon became my best friends. A week passed, and we were already known as the school's pranksters. 

One night, we were sneaking past curfew to set a bomb in front of the Slytherin common room, when we heard somebody whispering.

"Put it above the door, so it could fall on the next person who enters!" It was Remus Lupin, a friendly boy who my brother shared the dorm with.

"You know what? It could actually work!" James said. "But wait, how did you get here?"

"Did you really expect that I wouldn't wake up after you'd tripped and fell on the floor? I might be a deep sleeper, but even Merlin heard that!" he answered, joining us behind the tapestry.

BOOM!

"Oh, someone fell for it!" We got out from our hiding spot to see a very furious Professor Slughorn covered by a thick layer of ash. 'Well, that's a double score.'

"Run!" I whispered-shouted, then we all ran for our lives.

***end of throwback***

Here I am, five years later and the only difference is that I now have more friends and problems.

I woke up seeing Aza singing a Bruce Springsteen song using her hairbrush as a microphone, while Zoe was dancing like crazy, rhythm long forgotten. It was a sunny Saturday, the perfect day for chilling by the lake and drawing.

"Wakey, wakey mighty matey!" Zoe greeted.

"Zoe, stop saying that, you made me lose the chorus!" Aza said annoyed.

Isabel Greene, also known as Aza, (to her despair), is one of the smartest and funniest wizard I've ever met. Her big, ocean eyes and dark complexion make her look like a fallen angel. She has the frizziest hair I've ever seen, which she usually keeps in a bun. She is taller than me and has a weird obsession for rock music. She can't sing, but she doesn't care. She does it every morning.

Zoe Vargas, in contrast, is a small, clumsy, sassy, fierce bean. She has short ginger hair and hazel eyes. She has infinite energy and doesn't need much sleep. And trust me, as a night owl, the last thing you could wish for is a roommate who wakes up at dawn and can't sit in a room without breaking something. But I am used to it, after living with Sirius my whole life.

However, they and the marauders are my family. And no one could ever change that.

"Come on, Y/N, we have to meet the boys downstairs in fifteen minutes and you haven't even got up from your bed!" Aza shouted.

I lazily dressed in Sirius' Led Zeppelin t-shirt and my ripped mom jeans. I looked in the mirror. Even with magic, I still couldn't erase the scar my mother made in my first year.

******

She smacked me across the face.

"You disrespectful child! You think I raised you so you could become an useless shame!" she yelled.

"I haven't done anything! The sorting hat made the best choice! And I couldn't be prouder!" I responded, slowly backing away.

"That will be seen." she said with a malicious smirk on her face. Casting a shield over both of us, she took my hand.

An agonising pain flushed through my entire body. Blood was spilling on my clothes, while my mother was craving those horrible words deep in my skin.

****

"Toujours Pur." I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek.

TAGLIST @futurewriter2000

[imaginejamesandsirius]

James is angry with sirius over the willow incident and breaks up with him. Can you write an account sort of the days(or weeks) that they spend with talking to each other? With them getting back together eventually. Sirius hurting and not eating and taking care of himself maybe? Thanks a lot.

Sirius’s apology to Remus is so honest, so sincere that his voice breaks half way through and James almost forgives him on that alone. His boyfriend looks worse, if that’s even possible, than Remus, dark circles under his eyes and his hair up in a messy half-arsed bun. James wants to touch it, because he is weak for Sirius’s hair and always has been, but restrains himself as Remus forgives Sirius as easily as he would’ve done if he’d accidentally turned his nose blue - which has happened before. What Sirius has done this time is a lot worse. So much worse.

While they all might want Snivellus dead, Sirius has actually tried to make it happen, using Remus as his murder weapon, and James isn’t sure he deserves the easy forgiveness he always gets from them this time. James is, more than the other boys, always open to listening to Sirius’s reasoning, and more often than not, ready to defend him before he’s even heard it, but getting their already self-loathing werewolf friend to kill someone isn’t something he can defend at all. Rage fills him as Sirius says something he hasn’t been listening to, and the other two laugh like the whole thing is joke.

When Sirius had turned up at his parents house, battered and sobbing and bruised, James had finally learned that there was a line, in life, and what it meant to cross it. Since then, even though it was only a few months ago, James has been trying to be more mature, to see that there’s a line there, in the first instance, and to stop himself before he gets close to crossing it, because a woman who’d never realised there was a line not to be crossed had almost killed his favourite person in the whole world, and he had no idea how he’d have survived if she had. It had taken Sirius a little while longer, but he’d seemed to get it too, and James, seeing that they were finally on the same page, had taken all his Gryffindor courage and asked him out.

He’d never seen Sirius so happy in his entire life and it’d made every doubt he ever could have had about it vanish in an instant to see his favourite face glowing with pure joy. Having to save Severus Snape’s life because of Sirius’s lack of ability to see the line had brought every single one of them back, tenfold.

The doubts aren’t that he and Sirius shouldn’t be together; they are made for each other, and James is so in love with him, even if he hasn’t said so yet, that the idea of them not being together when all is said and done is enough to make him breathless, and not in a good way; the doubts are that they’ve moved a little too fast, that he should’ve waited until they were truly in sync, that they aren’t ready for this yet.

James watches the other three interact, silently seething at Sirius for doing this, and nearly as much at the other two for just forgiving him, just like that. When they’re thrown out of the hospital wing because it is well past visiting hours, nearly past curfew, James trails behind Peter and Sirius all the way up to the common room.

“Leave us for a minute,” he tells Peter just as he starts to walk up the stairs after Sirius. Peter spins to turn and stare at him, wide eyed at the anger simmering in his voice and goes to sit down on one of the armchairs without a word. Sirius doesn’t even turn, just carries on his merry way.

Sirius is talking about something, keeps talking when James shuts the door behind him and leans against it, his arms across his chest. James has no idea what he’s saying, can’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears. Eventually Sirius notices James’s glower from the corner of the room and swaggers over to him, his arms automatically going around James’s neck and leaning in for a kiss. James’s anger wavers for a second, he always softens at Sirius’s affection so freely given, but he stops himself and grips Sirius by the elbow when his lips are just a breath away.

“What the fuck was that?” he asks. Sirius stops, leans back just enough to look in James’s eyes and whatever he sees there is enough for him to take a step back.

“Snivellus wasn’t meant to actually find Remus, Prongs. And he’s fine, and Remus is fine. It was stupid, I know, but no harm done right?” James can’t believe he’s trying to brush it all off like this, like its nothing, a non-entity.

“Except Remus could have gotten to him before I did, Sirius, and your stupid decision could’ve made Remus a murderer.”

Sirius knows he’s in trouble when James calls him by his full name and draws away to sit on James’s bed. He seems to crumple, his arrogance from earlier stripped away to something more real, something James can forgive, if Sirius will let him.

“I know, I fucked up. I’m sorry. What else can I say? I’m sorry, Jamie.” His eyes meet James’s, all open and soft and sorry, and James just needs to understand why he did it, and he’ll forgive him like he always does. He goes and kneels at Sirius’s feet, wrapping a hand around each of his ankles.

“Why, Si? I thought we were done with Snape.”

Unexpectedly, Sirius’s vulnerability is gone as soon as the words leave James’s mouth, the mask James hasn’t seen just between the two of them in years back in place. He’s hiding something, and James can’t tell what, for the first time in many years, if not ever.

“Does it even matter? What’s done is done. I did it because I wanted to.” The lie sounds angry, like Sirius has any right to be, and James stands so he’s towering above him from where he’s still sitting on the bed.

“You gonna tell me the truth, or are you actually doing this?” All the softness Sirius had inspired on him burns away as his anger returns tenfold. Its bad enough that he’s fucked up this badly, but to lie to James about it? He’s not having it, not for a second.

Sirius stands. They’re almost the same height; if James were to lean forward exactly to kiss him, he’d just miss his bottom lip - right now it’s the last thing from his mind. If it’s been anyone else, he might have hit them, or hexed them, but not Sirius. He still has nightmares of Sirius bloody and bruised from his mother’s spells, the idea of doing anything like that to him makes him feel physically sick, and even if that wasn’t the case, he loves him, painfully so, sometimes.

“I’m not lying to you. I wanted to scare him, I made it happen, that’s it.” Sirius’s eyes are daring him to contradict the words, and James knows they’re a lie, but he has no proof of it.

After a moments silence, Sirius brushes past him and heads for the bathroom.

“Tell me what it really was now, or we’re done.”

Sirius stops dead, doesn’t turn towards him but he can see the shift in the way he’d holding his shoulders. James won’t stand being lied to, especially when he just wants to help, and he knows Sirius won’t risk losing him, not over this.

“I told you, there’s nothing else to it.”

“Guess we’re done then,” James is saying, his whole brain screaming at him to be silent, his heart constricting. The words are out, and he can’t take them back now.

“Guess we are,” Sirius says, voice tight and sharp as a knife, and he’s gone, disappearing into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

- - - -

James cries himself to sleep, an ache in his chest ripping him open in a way he can’t seem to close. This is, without any plausible doubt, the worst possible outcome for their fight. What should’ve happened is this: Sirius should have admitted his reasoning as soon as they were alone together, James should have told him how awful it was, but that he understood, and that he forgave him, and then they should’ve stayed up most of the night kissing. Instead he wakes up with raw, sticky eyes, red from sobbing even in his sleep, and gets up to find Sirius already gone, even though its not seven o’clock yet, his bed only slightly crumpled, not enough to indicate he’d slept there at all.

He dresses and heads down to breakfast, ignoring the dread starting to settle like a stone in the pit of his stomach. He scans the Great Hall four times for Sirius’s silky black hair, and his heart leaps hopefully at the sight of it, over at the Slytherin table, before he realises it’s just Regulus. He eats slowly, trying to wait it out, to see if Sirius will turn up and only leaves when Peter tells him for the fourth time they’re late for class already.

When Sirius is upset, he forgets to look after himself. He’s always been the same, and up until fairly recently he’d done it occasionally even when no one had hurt him. For as long as he’d known him, James has been there to look after him instead, reading to him until he fell asleep, cajoling him into showering, eating and otherwise curling up in bed with him when he needed it. He doesn’t think Sirius would let him do that now if he tried. He wants to, even though they’re not together anymore, not even friends anymore and the anger is still there, bubbling under his skin.

Thankfully, Sirius is at classes, though he looks like death warmed up, which is more than has happened in the past. He ignores James completely, moving into Remus’s normal seat when he sits down beside him, but he speaks to Peter a little, who normally irritates Sirius to no end when he’s not in the best mood. With the knowledge that the situation isn’t as bad as he’d dreaded, James reaches for his anger again, lets it wash over him in a hot, prickly wave.

He can’t believe Sirius would let it come to this, not speaking, not eating, not sleeping, over telling him what’s really going on. Its either awful, so awful that he doesn’t trust James knowing what it is, which is ridiculous, since James knows everything about him, or that he honestly, genuinely has no reason for nearly getting Snape killed, and leaving James to save him. He’s not sure which option is worse.

- - - -

That night, Sirius doesn’t go to dinner, and he doesn’t come up to bed at all, he just disappears off to detention after their last class. James dreams of Sirius holding a dagger to his throat.

“Why?” Dream-James asks.

“No reason,” Dream-Sirius replies, and kills him.

He wakes, tears streaming down his face, hand at his own neck. It’s a lie, in the way that many dreams are, because Sirius, even when they’re fighting, would never hurt him, ever, but it still leaves him feeling raw and wounded. Despite himself, he goes to snuggle into Sirius’s bed with him, because being with Sirius always clears his bad dreams. Not wholly unsurprisingly, he’s not there, the bed cold and in the same state as it was the morning before. He nicks Sirius pillow instead, as the next best thing. Sleep still evades him.

“How can you forgive him so easily,” he asks Remus when he goes to visit him in the hospital wing. Sirius has just left, and Remus doesn’t look annoyed or even particularly tired, like he sometimes does when Sirius is being deliberately taxing.

“Because we don’t expect better from him,” Remus replies, his expression exasperated, like it’s such a simple answer James should’ve known. “We don’t expect him to act like an adult all the time. You’ve decided he needs to be all responsible and caring, but that’s not Sirius. He’s too selfish for that.”

James is quiet after that. He’d figured out that Sirius hadn’t been ready for a real relationship, that he still needed to grow up a bit more, but Remus was saying it’d never happen; Sirius didn’t have the capacity to be who James was waiting for. The thought makes James’s heart ache, and he isn’t so sure growing up is worth having to give up Sirius.

- - - -

The days continue on in much the same manner; James rises to find Sirius hasn’t slept, goes to eat and searches for him in the Great Hall to no avail, and then finds him looking thinner and more exhausted by the day, if not the hour, in their classes. He hates him again once he knows he’s there during the day, and cries for him each night, great gasping sobs that threaten to shake him apart entirely, though the hatred is starting to ebb away, faced with the thought of never getting his Sirius back.

When Remus returns to classes, their group seems to resettle onto different sides, James and Peter and Remus on one side and Sirius alone on the other. James knows at least Remus still speaks to him, but he doesn’t miss the hurt look on Sirius’s face when Peter brushes past him on the corridor between Transfiguration and Potions one day, his attention all on James. He looks awful, unshaven, unwashed perhaps, his uniform a crumpled mess, and his eyes are so sad James wants to cry just from looking at them.

The three of them are walking towards Charms one day after lunch, and James finds he can’t hate Sirius any longer, knowing they’re both miserable apart. He reacts the only way he knows how.

“I’ve had enough of fucking taking care of him!” he complains fervently to Remus, who says nothing, but looks extremely dubious. “It’s like having a baby! He’s a grown man, he knows he has to fucking eat.”

A little noise, so quiet he wouldn’t have heard it had Peter not been shocked into silence by his outburst, sounded behind them. James turned to see what it was, only to find Sirius walking in the opposite direction, his shoulders looking painfully tight. He doesn’t even show up to classes for the rest of the day, or the day after, and James thinks he’d kill Snape himself for Sirius not to have heard those lies.

- - - -

He’s sitting at breakfast beside Peter on the third day of not seeing Sirius at all, barely picking at his porridge, when Remus comes running up to him, having stayed behind in their dorm to write up a first draft of their essay due in before the next full moon.

“I know you said you’ve had enough of him,” he whispers into his ear, breathing heavily as if he’d ran all the way from their dorm to the Great Hall. He doesn’t need to specify who he’s talking about. “But there’s blood in the bathroom.”

Remus keeps talking, but James doesn’t hear it, his blood rushing in his ears. He pushes away his porridge, stands, and runs directly to their dormitory, using every shortcut he knows, uncaring of whether other students, or even the Professors, see him in his haste to get to Sirius. Sirius had promised on James’s life he would do this again, no matter what happened, but they’ve taken it too far.

His lungs are burning by the time he bursts in through their dormitory door, silent sobs taking the remainder of his breath away. Sirius is there, stalk still, eyes wide with – Merlin, James would rather die than see that expression on his face because of him – fear, looking positively dreadful as he turns to stare at James. Without thinking, James strides straight up to him and takes his face in his hands.

“Please,” he begs, uncaring of how desperate he sounds as his voice breaks, “please tell me you’re not hurting yourself again.”

Anger flashes across Sirius’s face and the fear and, behind that, hope, that had been in his eyes moments ago is gone, replaced by a familiar indignant fury and Sirius draws away.

“I haven’t! I promised you I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”

James wishes he believed him, he really does, but if Remus saw blood, enough blood to worry him, then he can’t risk it.

“Stop lying to me!” he shouts and reaches for Sirius’s elbow. He dares not grab for his wrists.

“Fuck you, James,” Sirius snarls, and pushes back the sleeves of his robes to show his wrists, silver scars crisscrossing the veins there. There are no new cuts, only older ones James knows too well, has felt a thousand times when he’s reached for Sirius’s wrists, his hands, little raised lines under his searching fingertips.

Relief should overwhelm James, but it doesn’t. Instead, he finds his panic only rising, threatening to cut off his breath entirely.

“I don’t believe you,” he says, and Sirius looks so livid he would’ve been scared, except Sirius would never hurt him, and he’s always more scared for Sirius then himself. “Strip. C’mon, I know you’ve done it other places before.”

This is insane, and he wants to be sick. He’s actually going to be sick, he thinks, as Sirius rips his robes off with a furious flourish and starts unbuttoning his shirt. It shouldn’t be like this, his first time seeing Sirius nearly naked this close up shouldn’t be when Sirius is so angry James can’t look at his face and he’s so scared of losing him he’s going to push him away entirely, yet Sirius unbuttons his shirt and throws it onto the floor, and James says nothing, saying nothing at all until Sirius is there in just his boxers, chest heaving, looking to all the world like he’d on the verge of tears. He probably is, James’s vision in blurring with his own unshed ones.

“I’m sorry,” he cries, letting the tears split from his eyes unchecked, and closes them as if it will help things. The scars are, as the ones on his wrists, old and silver, littered over his thighs and stomach, a strangely beautiful ode to all the times Sirius heart has broken before, but not this one. “I’m sorry,” James begs again, and knows it might not be enough. His hands tingle with his longing to touch him; he doesn’t dare reach out, knowing Sirius will flinch away from him now, and that he can’t watch that.

“I was shaving, and I cut my cheek, you mad fucking wanker!” Sirius shouts at him, stepping back and pulling all his clothes back on. Now that he’d said it, James can see the tiny nicks on his favourite face, accompanied now by tears as Sirius loses the battle with his own emotions. “My magic gets uncontrollable when I’m upset, you know that, I can’t use a magical razor.”

James does know that, had watched as his dad had taught Sirius how to shave like a muggle when Sirius had almost sliced his own ear off shaving normally in the summer after he left Grimmauld Place. He runs both his hands through his hair to stop them from reaching for Sirius and looks into the shattered grey eyes he loves so much. He says nothing.

“You said – I heard you tell Peter and Remus you didn’t want to look after me anymore, so I went and looked after myself, so you wouldn’t have to, since I’m such a burden,” Sirius snarls, voice cracking on every other word, and James can’t help himself when he takes Sirius’s hand. Surprisingly, Sirius allows it, but doesn’t return James’s iron grip.

“I was lying,” James admits, just as broken as Sirius. “I would look after you every day until I day, if it meant you were still here.”

He doesn’t mean here at Hogwarts, or here in Scotland, or even here with me, he means alive, and they both know it.

Sirius softens as he looks at James face, though he lets go of his hand. “But you don’t want to.”

“I do,” James insists, and means it. He is happy to take care of Sirius when he needs it, and he loves it when Sirius just wants it, loves getting to brush his hair and cuddle up with him in bed in fresh sheets he’s just changed, loves cooking his favourite food for him at home and watching Sirius’s whole face light up. “I always do.”

Sirius has redressed entirely now, and draws away, turning his back to James.

“Go back and finish your dinner,” he orders.

He wants to touch him, wants to touch him so badly his fingers jerk, his hands itch, but he knows he ruined it; he’s not sure Sirius will ever let him touch him again.

He leaves without a word, holding back his tears until he’d out of the common room, out of the castle itself and into the grounds, snow falling in great fluffy flakes around him. Outside with the cold biting at every inch of his bare skin, he let himself cry, collapsing to his knees and sobbing into the frigid air.

- - - -

He awakes that night to the dipping of his bed and Sirius sliding into it. They lie face to face for a few moments in silence, not even their knees touching. Its closer than James thought he’d ever get to Sirius again, and he revels in it.

“Snape found out we were together,” Sirius says suddenly.

James opens his mouth to say something, but Sirius gives him a stern look and he lets him continue without interruption. “He said he was going to tell my mother what a disgusting son she had, in love with another boy, a-and James, she would’ve killed me. I honestly think she would’ve killed me. I was terrified, and I couldn’t tell you because you’d be so angry, and you would’ve gone and attacked him, and you’ve been so good at not letting things get to you. I just wanted to scare him, let him know I wasn’t to be messed with.”

Sirius takes a deep breath to steady himself and doesn’t push James’s hand away when he strokes down his cheek. He knew there was something wrong, had known Snape had done something to him, and Sirius had been so scared of James breaking his own rule he’d lied to him.

“I didn’t mean him to get that close, to even get close enough to see it was Remus. And then he did, and he said he would still tell mother, and I told him it didn’t matter anyway, because you hated me.” He sucks in a great, shuddering breath, and James watches, heart breaking, as tears spill from his eyes. “You hate me,” he says again, so quietly had there been any other noise, it would have drowned him out.

James can’t help himself, can’t let Sirius think he hates him even for a single second. He leans forward and kisses him, cupping his face gently, like Sirius is the most precious, most important thing in the world, because he is.

“I love you,” he says fervently. “I love you so much Sirius. I just hate that you lied to me.”

“I miss you,” Sirius says, and turns his head to kiss James’s palm. “I miss you all the time.”

“I miss you,” James can’t help but repeat back. “Stay.”

He won’t though, and James knows it. Having said all he means to say, he slips out the bed and goes back into his own. James can only hope he’ll finally sleep, knowing his brain has too much information to process now to sleep himself.

- - - -

They don’t go back to normal, but it gets better. Sirius starts going to classes again, and then to meals, and then starts sleeping, fitfully, but at least he’s trying. James feels like he can breathe again for the first time in weeks, like air has been returned to the world along with Sirius’s presence in his life. After a few days he’s back talking to Remus and Peter, and within the week he and James are friends again, and a week after that, they’re best friends, inseparable.

Sirius saw James’s line, understood it, and had tried to save him from breaking it, even if it meant breaking it himself. He understands what James is trying to do, how he’s trying to change, and that, James decides, is enough, more than enough. But he’d broken a different line when he’d disbelieved Sirius, and he’s not sure he can ever fix that one.

They’re curled up on the sofa one afternoon, half asleep from the warmth of the fire, and James is so in love his heart feels like it might burst from his chest. The sadness comes with it, the same sadness he’s felt ever since the day he saved Snape and lost Sirius.

“Be my boyfriend,” he breathes, not really expecting a reply. He doesn’t deserve Sirius’s forgiveness, not after what he’s done, but he needs Sirius to know he wants him.

“Yes.” James must have misheard, or maybe Sirius did, because there is no way Sirius has agreed. He turns Sirius’s face to him and its brightened by a tiny, warm small, so full of hope that it takes James’s breath away.

“I want to be with you,” Sirius says. “I want to be with you always.”

James crashes their mouths together, kisses him until they’re both wet-eyed and breathless.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Teenagers Part 4

Harry Potter Marauders Era 

Link to Part 3

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M

_____

Regulus was the first to break the kiss, leaving you nearly breathless. You weren't able to bring yourself to look at your friends. Without looking you knew that James was probably over there screaming.

“What in the name of hell is going on around here?”

That was quicker than I expected.

You thought looking up at James. He stood in front of you resembling a volcano about to explode. Sirius stood behind him with his mouth wide open. You wanted to laugh at the expression on Sirius’ face. In all of the years, that you had been friends with Sirius, you have never seen him with this expression on his face.

Regulus was the first one to speak. In true Regulus Black fashion, his voice was eerily calm.

“I suppose your glasses aren’t strong enough, Potter. If you were looking clearly then you would have seen things clearly.”

James tried to bite his tongue...which worked all of three seconds.

“Get your filthy hands off of my sister, Black!”

Regulus held his hands up before looking at his palms.

“I’m not filthy. Again Potter, get your vision checked. Maybe I wouldn’t beat you in quidditch if your vision was correct.”

You automatically winced at that particular dig. If there was a subject to really piss James off on other than you was his quidditch skills. Sure enough, James threw his books down and went for his wand.

Regulus, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow.,

“What are you going to do, Potter? Hex me? You do realize that my friends are sitting right over there and are watching this whole exchange. There are more of us than you and my mute brother.���

James glanced toward the Slytherin table where Evan, Barty, Severus, and a few of Regulus’ little minions were clearly waiting for an excuse to go after him. He glanced over his shoulder and was pleased to see Remus and Peter had finally decided to come over.

“I have two more. It will be a fair fight. You have no business being with my sister.”

You quickly stood up.

“James, I like Regulus. It isn’t your place to tell me what to do.”

James turned his attention to you. He was fuming and knew that he was probably about to say a lot of things that he would regret later. At the moment, however, he didn’t give two shits. You didn’t know what you were getting into. All that James could see was you looking the way that Sirius did the night that he moved in. Sure, Regulus was probably too decent enough of a guy to put his hands on you but Walburga Black wasn’t. If you did something that displeased that hag, she would probably beat you and Regulus would be too soft to stand up to his mother. There was no way in hell that James would allow you to live in that kind of household! He couldn’t help but wonder why you would want to?

“You didn’t talk to me about this, Y/n. You saw what his family did to Sirius! If you are with him, his psycho mother will hurt you! She hates us as it is anyway.”

Regulus frowned.

“James, this isn’t the bloody 1800’s. Y/n can be with who she wants without any input from you. Furthermore, I wouldn’t let my mother touch her.”

James took a breath before turning to Regulus.

“You sure didn’t stand up for your older brother. Sirius, do you have something to add to this? You are being awfully quiet back there?”

Sirius opened his mouth and made a few small squeaking sounds before finally talking.

“You two like each other?”

Regulus’ annoyed scowl intensified.

“Catch up!”

Sirius blinked as Remus and Peter wrapped their arms through James.

“Okay, we need to stop.”

Peter gently said to James. Remus nodded.

“We need to stop so you don’t say something that you will regret.”

James laughed bitterly.

“I have a lot to say and I am not feeling too shy right now. Y/n, when this all goes to hell don’t you dare come to me for help! This will all be your fault for choosing this little shit.”

Regulus stood up after he saw the way that your face fell. This uncharacteristic comment was something that you never expected to hear come out of James’ mouth. You were unable to meet Sirius and Remus’ faces. What you couldn’t see was both Sirius and Remus were as stunned as you. This was not normal James Potter behavior.

“Little shit? You do realize that I am bigger than you. I’ve had enough of your mouth, Potter. If that is really how you respond to your sister, who you supposedly love so much, you aren’t very much of a brother. Come on, Y/n.”

You quickly stood, wanting nothing more than to get out of the great hall. Sure, you could have made some really hurtful comment right back at James but you didn’t want to. You loved your brother too much to be that sassy and hurtful. Clearly, James didn’t see things the same way that you did.

Had James come over and wanted to talk like a sane human not a neanderthal, you would have been glad to talk to him. You would have told him that you cared more about Regulus than you ever had for any other boy. Granted, Regulus could have turned down the sass and assured James that he would make sure that you wouldn’t be hurt. Maybe assurances from both of you would ease the tension going on inside of your brother. Unfortunately, it was all shot to hell.

You quickly took the hand that Regulus was holding out to you. Glancing over your shoulder, you could see Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene were all standing up with matching worried expressions on their faces. This would be the first time that you walked away from your friends. Something told you that you wouldn’t be seeing much of them for the foreseeable future…

James, meanwhile, watched as you walked out of the great hall with Regulus. The older brother in him wanted nothing more than to go grab you and beg for forgiveness. He knew that his reaction was less than satisfactory but what did you expect? James had been looking after you from the moment that you were born. How did you honestly expect him to turn that off?

The better question was Regulus thinking? Did he really think that this relationship was going to work out? What did the two of you honestly have in common? You were such a sunny lovely person with a heart of gold and Regulus...well...he was gloomy and everything dark.

“James?”

He turned the moment that Lily said his name.

“Did you see that?”

Lily gently wrapped her hand around James’ hoping to calm him down. She tried to keep her voice calm and sweet. Lily knew if she wanted to get anything out of James adding to his temper wouldn’t get her anywhere.

Before Lily could speak, Marlene beat her…

“The whole hall heard the three of you.”

James groaned. He ran a hand through his messy hair before turning to face his friends.

“Was I wrong?”

Lily shrugged as Dorcas spoke.

“James, what is so bad with Regulus? I mean, he’s smart and he really seems to like Y/n. From what I can see, he has been nothing but kind to her.”

James growled.

“Okay Dorcas, what about when the little twat loses his temper and his little mask comes off and my sister gets hurt? I don’t care if he’s a Black or whatever family he comes from, he has no business with my sister.”

Lily finally decided to speak.

“Why don’t you calm down a bit then go talk to Y/n? You're her older brother and she loves you more than anyone. This is going to crush her.”

James sighed.

“She’s really happy right now, Lils! She has the boy that all of the other girls want since his older brother isn’t dating anyone anymore.”

Sirius frowned.

“Hey! I can’t help it that I’m attractive. In all seriousness, James, I get why you worried. I am for the same reason. You of all people know who my mother is. If I said that I wasn’t worried it would be a lie. Since when does my brother like girls? I was convinced that he didn’t like anyone.”

“He needs to go back to that. I guess that I am supposed to sit back and watch my sister’s life go to hell?”

James snapped, having the urge to punch a wall. Remus finally decided to speak. He was waiting for the best moment to talk. Maybe this was it?

“I’ll keep an eye on them as much as I can.”

James nodded.

“I’m going to get some air.”

(meanwhile)

You walked in silence beside Regulus. Neither of you had said much since leaving the great hall. Regulus had kept a watchful eye on your face. You were devastated and he knew it. He knew that expression on your face well.

“I didn’t expect him to say that.”

Regulus commented before gently shoving you into an empty classroom. He closed the door behind him before turning to face you.

“I didn’t either. James has never talked to me like that.”

You commented. Regulus sighed. He didn’t want to say this but maybe it was for the best?

“If you want to break up so he won’t have a heart attack...I understand.”

Your mouth dropped as you threw your arms around his shoulders. That was the last thing that you wanted to think about.

“No! I don’t want that...at all. It isn’t James’ place to tell me who that I can or who that I can’t date. I didn’t throw a fit when he started dating Lily...not that I would but you get my point. Just because I am his little sister doesn’t give him the right to throw that bit of a tantrum like a child.”

Regulus was relieved when you said that. He wrapped an arm around your waist wanting nothing more than to preserve the close contact.

“I won’t let my mother do a thing to you. Whether James or Sirius wants to admit it, I know how to manipulate her well. I suppose that is one of the positives about Sirius leaving...mother is at her wits end to please me.”

“Is she as scary as Sirius lets on?”

You questioned, laying your head on Regulus’ shoulder.

“No, not anymore. I think that she realizes what she lost with my brother. She doesn't want to lose another heir. Mother tries to be tough but she isn’t...not anymore. I think the older she gets the more that she realizes her faults. As far as my father, he is so disconnected from the rest of us. I will just tell him that we are dating and he won’t even question it. What about your parents?”

You realized that you hadn’t really thought much about how your own mother and father would react. When Sirius moved in with your family, your mother had spent two days muttering about how she wished that she could have saved Regulus too. You smirked. Little did she know that there was still hope on that one.

“I think they will be more concerned about your parents than they will you. My mother just wonders if you are able to talk.”

Regulus smirked. Your parents had been plaguing his mind a lot since the day before.

“A lot of people ask that. My parents have a big party at Christmas. I know that my mother will want you to come. Do you think that your parents would let you?”

That was a good question. You didn’t foresee your mother being too thrilled or even considerate at the idea of letting you go around the Black family.

“I’ll have to see what I can do there. If we stay together, they will have to find some way to get along.”

Regulus nodded before gently kissing you. He sighed against your lips. This was something that he could get used to very quickly. It was no wonder that Sirius was a man whore. This whole "being loved" thing was becoming addicting. Regulus had no interest in kissing anyone other than you. He could hold and kiss you all day if he was able.

As far as "staying together" you were the only girl that Regulus could tolerate that thought with. Sure, things were still in the "honeymoon phase" of the relationship but Regulus didn't foresee his mind changing. Normally once his mind was made up...it was made up.

“And I don’t foresee myself letting you go.”

That evening when you returned to the common room, you didn’t look in the direction of where your friends sat. It wasn’t until Dorcas said your name, did you look up. Sirius, James, Lily, Dorcas, and Remus sat in the usual corner that you lot occupied. You gave Dorcas a small wave as she motioned you over.

James didn’t look up and neither did Sirius. Remus was busy giving them a mother hen “displeased” glare. You had a bad feeling that this was going to be what the foreseeable future was going to be like. Half of your friends would talk to you and the other half was going to be oddly silent around you.

So much for our last year being the best…

You thought sadly. It would probably be better if you acted as if you didn’t exist when you were in the common room. Clearly, that was how James and Sirius seemed to want it…

Shaking your head, you turned and went in the direction of your dormitory. In the comfort of your bed, you could finally catch up and process all of your feelings. When James and Sirius were ready they could speak to you. Until then you weren't going to bed them to see things your way.

Over the following 2 ½ months, Sirius and James kept up with the “we aren’t talking to you” mantra as the first day. You found yourself drifting further and further from your friends with each passing day. Sure, you would talk to Dorcas, Marlene, and Lily just like before but things were changing with Remus and Peter. They seemed to be sympathizing with James. You weren’t as offended with Peter as you were Remus. He was the last person that you had expected to turn his back on you.

You had figured that he was only trying to keep peace with James as his friend was clearly going through a tough time but so were you! Trying to be understanding was only getting you so far and with each time Remus walked past you without a word...you began to lose faith a little bit more in that particular relationship.

I guess that shows who your friends are…

You thought one afternoon as you sat in the Three Broomsticks. Dorcas, Lily, and Marlene had invited to sit with them as normal. Clearly, the three girls wanted to gain back some sense of normalcy but normal wasn’t going to happen. You had politely declined their invitation and went to an empty table to sit alone. Regulus would be there soon enough and you weren’t about to sit with your brother and watch them all shoot each other dirty looks.

When Regulus stepped in, you pushed the negative thoughts out of your mind as he looked in your direction with a smile. He was the one “sunny” spot that you had to look forward to every day. The relationship was going better than you could have expected. Were you ready to say “love?” You could answer that with a yes...it was only finding the right time to say it to him.

“Sorry, it took me so long. I had to stop Barty from getting in a fight with some Ravenclaw. If he gets in another fight, his father will murder him.”

Regulus commented as he leaned down to kiss you. You rolled your eyes. Over the past few months, you found yourself getting to know Regulus’ friends better and better. How he was friends with some of the Slytherins, you weren't for sure but you decided to keep those opinions to yourself. Maybe that's why Regulus had the reputation that he did. He had to be a “hard ass” to keep Barty from being injured or following Evan through whatever hell he was up to.

“I understand. I’m happy to see you.”

You said taking your place beside him. Regulus wrapped an arm around you enjoying the warm heat that your body provided. He knew that you weren’t thrilled with Barty Crouch Jr but what Gryffindor really was? You never complained about his friends and that meant the world to Regulus. While he wanted nothing more than to keep your company, he still had to keep up with the rest of the Slytherins that he had grown up with.

“I’m happy to see you too. You look beautiful as always.”

When your cheeks flushed scarlet, Regulus couldn't fight the smile. He could sit and watch you blush all day long. Over the past 2 ½ months, he had grown undeniably closer to you with each day. Regulus had never expected to fall in love with you this quickly but he had.

“Oh, I finally heard back from my mother.”

Regulus commented. You felt your stomach begin to feel uneasy at that. For the first bit of your relationship, Regulus decided not to mention anything to Walburga. Now that things were starting to become more serious, his mind had changed. You were afraid that Walburga would say no to everything once that she found out who was dating her youngest son.

“You did? Did she freak out? Regulus, I don’t want to cause a rift between….”

Regulus pulled you into his arms for a tender kiss.

“She isn’t mad.”

Your mouth dropped. Something about this revelation had totally caught you off guard. You had been so busy preparing yourself for the rejection that you never prepared for approval.

“She what?”

You questioned. Regulus chuckled at the expression on your face as he handed you a folded letter.

“See for yourself.”

You blinked a few times before taking the letter from your boyfriend nervously. Unfolding the document, you couldn't help but wonder if you really wanted to read what Walburga Black had to say? What if there was some hidden ulterior motive or backhanded comment that would prove her actual disapproval.

“Regulus,

Your father and I are very glad to hear that you have found a suitable pureblood girl. If my memory serves me correctly, Y/n Potter is a very lovely girl. You should invite her to Christmas with our family. We would love to meet her in person.

Sincerely, Your mother.”

You read the letter twice to make sure that you had taken everything incorrectly. Walburga was okay with the relationship and she thought that you were lovely...had hell frozen over? You couldn’t help but wonder if the world had ended and you were just the last to know?

Frowning at Walburga's signature of “your mother” you couldn’t help but think of how stuffy and formal that seemed. That was just one of the differences between Regulus’ family and yours. Your mother and father’s letters were always so warm and cheery. They both mentioned how much they missed you in every single letter in addition to how much they loved you. In the letters from Walburga and Orion, neither party ever said “I love you” or “I miss you” to their son.

“Wow...I was not expecting that.”

You replied. To say that you were surprised would have been a major understatment. You were stunned! Regulus smiled one of his rare genuine smiles that made your heart pound. It was one of those smiles that made his dark eyes light up. He didn't look like the serious boy that he typically was. He was carefree and you loved it.

“I really wasn’t either...so will you please come with me to the party? You being there would make it so much more tolerable.”

Gently pushing a stray curl away from his face, you couldn’t say to that face.

“I will. I’ll write to my parents about it tonight.”

Meanwhile,

Lily turned to James with a displeased scowl. James hadn’t looked up since the moment that you walked into the place.

“James, this has gone on long enough!”

James looked up from the butterbeer in front of him. It had been a long time! He frowned the moment that he realized that you were snuggled up to Regulus. The angry side of James returned like a freight train. He chose to forget that he had received a letter from his mother telling him that he needed to accept the fact that you would fall in love one day. While Euphemia wasn’t thrilled about your choice in a suitor either, she was a lot more “hopeful” than her eldest son.

James, that boy probably needs love more than anyone in this world and maybe...just maybe Y/n is the best one to give it to him.”

James wanted to gag at that sentence. The last thing that he wanted to think about was you giving Regulus “love.” The mere thought of you sleeping with Regulus Black was enough to send James to a nuthouse.

While the stubborn side of James prevented him from speaking to you, the “soft” side of him was aching to be near you. It was hard from going to having a little sister who was more like a best friend to nothing. He missed your chatter...hell, he missed everything about you!

There had been a few times that James had come close to apologizing and admitting that he was being childish but he never did it. It seemed every time that he was close to doing it, he caught Regulus snogging you. James hated looking at the two of you fused together like some nuclear accident gone berserk.

“They are always snogging.”

James snapped as he and Sirius walked down the hall one day. The two had just left charms and had gone off in search of you. James had it in his mind that he was going to apologize, however, when he walked into the hallway and saw you wrapped around Regulus kissing him like the world was about to end, he froze.

Sirius had finally put a hand on his friend’s back and pushed him along.

“You aren’t that cool, James.”

James pulled himself from his memory of the previous day as Lily wrapped her hand around his.

“James, this is Y/n’s first boyfriend. What if Regulus is the one? We will have to find some way to get along with him.”

James faked a gag.

“Merlin, I hope that he isn't the one.”

He commented as Remus sat down. James looked up to his friend hoping for some new that didn’t involve you and that boy. He had never been more thankful for Sirius and Remus over the past few months. His best friends had been his biggest support system. While James felt guilty over your friendships with Sirius and Remus becoming nonexistent, his friendships with them grew stronger.

“Remus, please tell me that you have some good news or a joke or something.”

Remus glanced over his shoulder to where you sat snogging Regulus. He sighed.

“Rumor on the street is Walburga is pleased as punch over Regulus and Y/n being a couple.”

Both Sirius and James’ mouths dropped. Sirius expected his mother to send Regulus a howler about “HOW DARE YOU DATE A BLOOD TRAITOR!” James was expecting the same thing and made a bet with Sirius on when the howler would be arriving.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

James muttered as Sirius swore under his breath.

“Mum will be pleased as punch with anything that her little baby boy does. If it were me and I brought Y/n home, it would have gone ugly.”

Sirius looked over Remus’ shoulder to see you and Regulus going at it again.

“I swear all that she does is snog him.”

James looked up with a scowl.

“I need to get out of here.”

________

@amelie-black @truly-insatiable @realgaytrash @lucasfilms77 @exhsle @bennyberry @whymyparentscheckmyphone @quuenofblacks @jessyballet @knreidy1 @hazncalsgal @criminalyetminimal @spiderxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @fandom-trash-worth-it @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @marichromatic @maggioli-m @stuckinsaudi1 @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @shitfaceddaniel @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner @untoldshortsofthefandoms @sprnaturallover @acciosiriusblack @fandomsxxregulus

[brightestwitch333]

he is eleven and he knows he has chosen his own path. as soon as he was freed from them his first act was one of defiance. this will not be lost on them. he hasn’t written home telling them yet but he knows they already know. they have connections. & so he isn’t surprised when he sees the family owl fly directly to him, a bright red envelope attached to it’s leg. he unties it with shaking fingers, terrified of what he knows it will say and at the same time completely unbothered. the triumph of the previous night has not completely faded from his mind, he knew there would be repercussions and had deemed them worth paying. the envelope begins to smoke and his new friend, james, glances at him questioningly. there’s no use putting it off and so he opens it. his mother’s voice rings out, and despite himself he flinches at the sound of it. she calls him a disappointment, a blood traitor, a friend of mudbloods and filth. she claims that he has disgraced his family, that he has forever tarnished the noble name of the blacks. her rant goes on and on and he does his best to appear unbothered, although his face is a sickly shade of white. not until the very end, when suddenly his father’s voice cuts in, does he let his mask down. for while his mother was screeching anger and righteous indignation and terrible wrath, his father is low and cold, hard and sharp. he does not waste time screaming insults but instead, in the quietest, most terrifying voice possible, promises that sirius will pay, and then he whispers in french, toujours pur, always pure, the family motto. & that is what shakes sirius down to the bones. the envelope disintegrates in his hands and he, with all the effort in the world, manages to control himself. the whole great hall is staring at him, and over at the slytherin table he sees his cousins laughing and jeering. they booed him last night. they know what is to come to him. he tears his eyes away from them and instead glances at james who is gaping at him in open mouthed astonishment, his horror evident in his eyes. the teachers are whispering hurriedly to each other, no doubt wondering what to do and how to regain order, a stern looking witch with her hair in a tight bun has her eye trained in him, concern coloring her face. a pudgy little boy is staring at him, apparently not noticing that the yolk of his egg that is dripping onto his lap. slowly the great hall resumes to its usual chatter, although people continue to shoot him looks, intermittently. another first year gyrffindor, a boy with scruffy brown hair, warm eyes and a scarred face, keeps staring at him intently, making him slightly uncomfortable. “you okay, mate?” james asks solicitously, concern shadowing his face. sirius, swallowing down a lump in his throat and wishing more than anything to move past the moment, nods silently and attempts to continue with their earlier conversation as if nothing had happened. james, although still looking sickened, allows it without comment and slowly the pace returns and it is as if nothing has happened. at the end of that day, though, it is clear that something indeed did happen. by the end of that first day, although he did not know it yet, he found another family. a family that would not shame him and punish him and and hurt him. a family that would not send him howlers and thinly veiled threats. a family that would love him unconditionally. james, his new friend who would become his brother. remus, the scruffy boy with the intent stare who would become his lover. & peter, the pudgy little boy who would become one of his best friends. the day he knew that he would lose his family, was the the day he found a new one.

he is twelve and he comes back from summer break with a bruised face and even more bruised ego. he spent all summer paying for the crime of being sorted into gryffindor the previous year and nobody can miss the stiffness of which he walks and the way he pulls his robes around him to conceal his injuries. he can’t quite hide his black eye and busted lip but he manages with the help of James to heal it before any of the teachers notice. he is sullen and moody to his friends and shrinks back when they touch him. but mostly he is worried about regulus. he doesn’t know what to hope for. he wants regulus to join him in gryffindor, to go down the right path because he knows he has it in him. but he doesn’t know if regulus can handle the sting of rejection the way he can, if he can take the blows that accompany righteousness. & so as regulus is sorted anxiety clenches his heart. it seems to take forever, every second a minute. regulus is trembling and suddenly reg blurts out “no!” causing sirius to wonder what exactly he was refusing. after regulus’ exclaimation the sorting hat almost immediately calls out slytherin. as regulus takes off the hat he seems both relieved and doubtful and sirius manages to catch his eyes. sad grey eyes reflect each other for a moment before regulus turns away. it shatters sirius. after dinner he runs after him and catches up before regulus can leave, he asks regulus why he said no. after a moment of hesitation regulus confides that the hat thought he belonged in gryffindor. they both stare at each other for a moment & suddenly brothers are hugging each other tightly, both immensely aware of the implications of this day and both clutching each other like nothing would ever be the same again. & it wouldn’t. but for a moment it doesnt matter and they are just brothers, holding on tight, fearing the moment they’ll be forced to let go. the next day the family owl lands near regulus, showering him in packages and letters of pride and before it flies away it pecks sirius sharply, and rakes its talons down his cheek leaving a bloody gash, no doubt on his mother’s orders. the snub could not be more clear. but sirius could not care less.

he is thirteen and he can’t wait to get to school to escape them. he barely holding on. he’s finally deemed old enough to find a potential suitor and the parties he’s been forced to attend since childhood are even worse. after he failed to show the proper table manners at one such event, his mother made him balance books on his head for a solid 7 hours, charming a stick to hit him anytime he began to slouch. he hasn’t quite managed to shake off the habit and it seems to add several inches to his height. he sulks at the edge of parties, bored and sullen, he knows nobody will interest him. boring pure blooded girls who recite the same poison his parents do. besides, sirius isn’t interested in girls anyways, no the scruffy boy from first year has caught his eye, although neither of them will admit it yet, each sure that they are reading into it too much, letting their imaginations get the best of them. he is intensely unhappy and can not wait to return to school. but school only offers limited relief as the darkness and fighting afflicting the rest of the world slowly creeps in. his home and sanctuary is polluted, gradually and inconspicuously. & so he redoubles his efforts, if the world insists on being darker he insists on being brighter. his pranks get bolder, his laughs get louder, his energy triples. he will beat this world if it’s the last thing he does. & they almost succeed. him and the marauders, together they light the world on fire. they radiate with boundless energy, sirius and james in the lead, remus and peter close behind, intent on showing the world what they’ve got. & so together they practice advanced magic and attempt daring stunts. their bonds of brotherhood standing steady against the weight of the world.

he is fourteen and he has run away from home for the first time, showing up on the potter’s doorstep at 2 am, bruised and battered. he offers no explanation for what happened but they don’t require one. it’s horrifyingly clear. they accept him in wordlessly, for he’s been their son since james brought him home first year for winter break. he stays for only three days, just long enough to regroup and regather himself, despite the pleas of the potters for him to remain with them. he can’t, not yet. & so he returns to the home that imprisons him and allows justice to be served for running away. it is brutal but he can take it, he can hold on just a little longer for regulus. just a little longer. he repeats it like a mantra. just a little longer. once back at school sirius and remus finally find each other, years of hidden tension and pining spill over. they finally allow their true feelings to come out and they love each other fearlessly, with an intensity that suggests they both know their days are numbered. their love lights up a loveless world; the charming heir of the blacks, and the scruffy half blood, the lawless rebel and the broken werewolf, fate tying them together, assuring that their destinies will forever be intertwined. theirs is a love story written in the heavens, but one that will be lost between the stars and the moon, forever floating in empty space, beautiful and tragic, falling through the cracks. remus and sirius walk a parallel line, side by side forever and ever, but destined to never truly cross.

he is fifteen and he has made a dire mistake. he can’t redeem himself for this, and although he doesn’t regret it, not really, he does regret hurting his love. he told snape a secret that wasn’t his to share. snape, the disgusting boy who sought the darkness, the boy who had a choice and still chose wrong. the boy who wasn’t pressured and beaten and threatened into joining the dark side but rather did it on his own. unlike sirius, unlike regulus, nobody was forcing him down the wrong path, instead he chose it willingly. he did it of his own accord. sirius HATED him for it. it seemed so unfair. he had been cruel to them all their school years and he stood for everything sirius was against. for sirius it was personal. & so he told that scheming, vindictive jerk to go to the whooping willow during the full moon. served him right for always being in their business, for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. he wasn’t thinking of the consequences for remus, of what would happen to him if he had accidentally hurt snape, of how he would feel. he was only thinking about getting snape back, of revenge. but james, stupid noble james, who would save his worst enemy, found out. he chose to play the hero. he saved snape, risking his own neck along the way. and they were all so mad at him. james was horrified that he was willing to let snape die, and even more horrified that he would dare use remus for that pursuit. remus was beyond angry, he was downright furious. he had entrusted sirius with his deepest secret and he had almost blown it. sirius had tried to use him to hurt someone else, and that was remus’ worst fear. peter, too, was disgusted. remus immediantly told him that they were done, and refused to speak to him. james was cool towards him and clearly took remus’s side but he couldn’t bring himself to hate his best friend and so he forgave him reluctantly. the thing was, sirius didn’t regret it if he was honest with himself. he still thought that snape deserved it. sirius had been raised in a black and white world, he managed to escape the poison of his family but couldn’t quite change his perspective. in his mind snape was evil and evil people get what they deserve. simple. but he did feel bad for hurting remus, that was never his intention. he apologized again and again and again. nothing he did could fix it but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. eventually remus caved in, and they were friends again, although nothing more. remus wasn’t ready to go that far. sirius accepted it reluctantly, it was better than nothing.

he is sixteen and he is free but not really. he’ll never be free. he wakes up in cold sweats, throat raw from yelling, blankets twisted around him from his thrashing. he’ll never be free. he finally left them, his family. but they’re still with him. you can cut off branches but you can never leave your roots. he flinches when people raise their voice at him, he shudders at the lightest touch. when he looks in the mirror his reflection mocks him. because he sees his mother’s darkness in his eyes and his father in the sharp, hard set of his jaw. he is still one of them. he never knew of their capacity for cruelty until he tried to leave. he never knew how truly terrible they could be. he is so thankful for james and his family, he can’t even begin to describe his appreciation. he owes them an explanation, he knows he does. he showed up half dead on their doorstep, beaten to a pulp. blood traitor carved across his arm, nothing behind his eyes. listless and broken. but he can’t give it, he can’t bring himself to tell them everything that happened. he can’t even think about it himself. & they understand. they are horrified and sickened and worried but they understand. his friends rally around him and with the potters he truly is free. he truly is happy. he can’t control his blood but he can control his choices. & he chooses them 100% of the time. & that’s all that matters. now that he is free from them he can finally be his own person without fear of retribution. he can finally express his beliefs and values and self.

he is seventeen and he is absolutely terrified. the war is more intense than ever. his brother is a death eater. he sees the mark on his arm. he has failed him, but it’s too late for amends. it is his final year at hogwarts and he is scared to leave his safe haven, to make his way in the real world. school is no longer simply about receiving an education, now it is about training for battle. he is not a student but rather a soldier. & so he trains like his life depends on it, because it does. finally among his chosen family, among his best friends, that is where he is set free. he knows of the war, he’s aware of the consequences and the weight and all of the choices, but he is ready, he is prepared. for him life is black and white, there is no grey and he is ready to fight for what he knows is right. he doesn’t truly come alive unless he is in the action, unless he is fighting for his beliefs. so despite the deaths and the tragedies and the war he still believes. he believes in the ideal, in hope and equality and righteousness. in a way he is naive in his views, in his boundless, unrestrained hope. he looks into the future and sees gold, he sees possibility. he has no idea of the imminent collapse, that things must get much much worse before they get better. for now he just enjoys his last year before he enters the real world, his last year of peace. sirius black will take the world by storm, but the world is destined to have the last word.

[theperfectstormrp]

“Evil is evil, lesser, greater, middling - makes no difference. The degree is arbitrary, the definition blurred. If I'm to choose between one evil and another, I'd rather not choose at all.”

Sirius Black

Age: Nineteen

Affiliation: Order Member

Blood Status: Pureblood

Career: Unemployed

RUMOR HAS IT… This overly loud member of the Marauders doesn’t seem to be slowing down on whatever down hill slope he seems to be on. Being yet another blood traitor from the house of Black, Sirius is living out his days trying to prove himself. Trying to show those who figured he’d crash and burn that, maybe he’s not as big of a fuck up as everyone thinks. Is there a way for him to prove himself or will the pressure finally crack this nut? 

Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Sirius was a child bronzed and made stoic by the abusive hand of his mother and the apathy of his father. In the world of the pureblood elite, a well behaved son was the mark of a great man. Orion found himself father to two, though the eldest seemed destined to make him mediocre at best. Still, he tried to set a good example for his younger brother, to become a man little Regulus could look up to, if only on occasion. However, mischief ran in his veins; every society party was a chance to meet and mingle with others who were born to serve the family tree. Another root, another slave to a title. In the monotony of those parties, he found friends, ones he imagined would be lifelong. Fate, as it often does, had another plan.

As expected, his letter came and soon he was leaving Grimmauld Place for Hogwarts. From his inaugural moments as a Gryffindor, Sirius began to take note of what defiance in the name of self-preservation meant. Every infraction was met with the hard whip of a birch switch, pale ring adorned fists, hands like ice heavy on his shoulders, almond-shaped nails sunk into his tender flesh. Individuality smothered with brute force, seethed words, pain that consumed. Red and gold gave way to black and blue, bruises that sunk to the bone. Each day spent at Grimmauld Place, away from his home at Hogwarts was a day closer to desiccation.

Leaving was a snap decision, forged in the crucible of ultimatums given. He caught his mother’s wrist as her hand came toward his face. The next moments were a blur, concluding on the Potter’s doorstep in freezing rain. He was free; free of his parents, of obligation, of fearing his family. For the first time in all his life, Sirius felt as if he were able to breathe. His only regret remained in leaving his younger brother in the wake of that battle. Regulus was the favorite, the perfect Slytherin son who deserved all the meager love they had to give; Orion and Walburga would not force him to atone for sins that were not his. The first sign of a differing reality came in the corridors of Hogwarts; Sirius stood static, frozen as if peering into a mirror that shone light on the past. Regulus stood across the stone corridor, paler, thinner. His long, dark curls were frizzy and frazzled, hanging in his face to mask the drawn look in his silver eyes. Ghosts of bruises splayed across his cheek and jaw.

"That should be me." Sirius thought, unable to keep his brother’s gaze as a shroud of shame fell heavy on his shoulders. He had left, Walburga had latched onto her youngest son, forcing her sordid agenda down his gullet; undoubtedly punctuating her points with lashes and blows Sirius could still feel echo in the corners of his mind. Regulus’ steady decline had been his fault, he was the reason. He should be the one walking the margin of death, not Regulus. The prodigal son had fled, the younger was left to their parent’s squalid devices. In place of those dangerous thoughts filling his head, Sirius took to alcohol in an attempt to silence the guilt-laden voices in his head. Comfortably numb, he threw aside all other reserve he had. Evenings were spent at the bottom of a bottle, with a girl he hardly knew in bed beside him. An early morning cigarette and black coffee to ease the headache leftover from the night before. His happiness had come with the freedom of being burned from the Black Family Tree, but had faded like a comet having passed. His brother was in hell, and he was blurry.

His remaining years at Hogwarts passed alongside his best friends, relying on their happiness to help him create a facade for his own. It was an easy lead to follow; distraction during the day helped his guilt wane. At night, there was no one to bear witness to how pathetic he truly was. Outwardly, he was a paramour, an ostracised rake, a rebel with a cause whose charming smile feigned happiness. His reputation built during rough nights of indulgence in place of introspection. Some days felt like a waste; time better spent in the ground. Dying would be easy, living with himself would be harder. Still, he persisted.

Days before graduation, Sirius received notice from an Uncle on his mother’s side, one whose story mirrored his own. The man was ill, on the cusp of death and willing to leave everything to the nephew who had chosen himself. The decision was selfish, of course, but done in the name of self-preservation at the mouth of an all-engrossing war. No sooner had the graduation party ended, did Sirius get his unlikely inheritance; a home in central London, hidden from the eyes of muggles, charmed with a depthless safe full of family gold and jewels. Owning his own home was an odd sensation; a reward for giving up rather than giving in. Now alone, without friends to distract him day in and day out, Sirius found himself spiraling, drinking too much and eating too little. Auror Exam dates came and went, with each, he found himself unmotivated to move from his new home. Friends flourished, Sirius remained the same; broken, bothered, disgusted, loathsome, and completely unchanged.

REMUS LUPIN – It was always true that Sirius was closest with James, but Remus held a special place in his heart. The problem was that Sirius couldn’t see far enough past his own darkness when it came to who his family was, and he knew he’d made a mistake when he sent Severus to the Whomping Willow. He’s trying to be a better friend, but he doesn’t know if Remus can forgive him.

SEVERUS SNAPE – Severus was the mirror that Sirius didn’t want to look into. So he mocked him, hurt him to make himself feel better. But he doesn’t regret it because Severus is evil. He can feel it in his bones.

MARLENE MCKINNON – Outside of the Marauders, Sirius finds solace in his friendship with Marlene. She’s like a sister he never had- and he regrettably took better care of her than he did his brother.

OTHER CONNECTION – BIOS SIRIUS BLACK IS MENTIONED IN.

Sirius Black is currently a TAKEN character with a FC of Ben Barnes.

[maraudereestauderelb]

Losing My Way

A Regulus Black Songfic

Heyy Guys! That’s my first try writing fanfictions in english, so I really hope you like it!  It’s a song fiction to the song “Losing my way” by Justin Timberlake.

Enjoy!!

By Selina-Dana

“Could you please just tell me, where you’re going?!“ “No.” “No?”, I’m shouting at the black-haired guy in front of me: “Simply no?!” “Just calm down Y/N”, he answers as cold as always. “I cannot calm down, Regulus!”

Why doesn’t he understand, that I’m just worrying about him and that I want to make sure, he’s not about to do something really stupid? Why is he constantly trying to push me away? Why does he believe he’s got to go through everything all on his own? And why the hell did I fall for him anyway?

 Watching the world spin round

While my dreams fall down

Is anybody out there?

 “Y/N, I promise, everything is going to be fine, as soon as I come back”, he’s looking me deep into the eyes. “If you’re coming back!” “Don’t you trust me? I told you, I’ll come back. I just have to do this one thing. One thing and everything can be good afterwards. I promise…” “Then why did you try to sneak out behind my back”, I say, tears running down my face.

He’s not about to do something good, I can definitely sense that. Since Kreacher came back with the Dark Lord he’s been acting weirdly. His cold mask started to fade, he’s fretful and fraught. He hasn’t even been like this when his father died a few months ago. Something must have happened, but again he’s not telling me what his problem is. As usual.

 It is breaking me down

No more friends around...

And my dreams fall down...

Is anybody out there?

 I can try whatever I want, he does not trust me. He does not trust anybody.

“Kreacher, where are you going?”, I’m asking the house-elf standing between Regulus and myself. “Kreacher has got the order not to tell anyone”, he’s replying and hiding behind his masters legs. “And I’m giving you the order to tell me! Now!” “Forget it Y/N. He won’t obey you, if I tell him otherwise.” “B-but I'm also his master, just like you are!” “A pity, that’s neither my fault nor yours.”

I’m looking at him shocked. “Thanks for reminding me of that”, I reply desperately trying to hold my tears back. I know as well as he knows that we did not get married because we wanted to or loved each other. This whole thing has been planned since we were born.

 Can anybody out there hear me?

'Cause I can't seem to hear myself

Can anybody out there see me?

'Cause I can't seem to see myself...        

There's gotta be a heaven somewhere

Can you save me from this hell?

Can anybody out there feel me?

'Cause I can't seem to feel myself

 Regulus and I got married over a year ago and since then a lot changed. And the biggest change has been me. In Hogwarts I’ve always been happy, had a lot of friends, smiled, been ironic and popular…and now? I’m quiet and introverted. And why should I be smiling, if there isn’t anything happy in this world. At least not in the world I married into.

I wasn’t allowed to return to Hogwarts after we got married, and that’s why I’m not having any contact to my friends. I’m the one who stopped writing them, because it hurt too much to hear how happy they were. It’s not their fault. I’m the one who changed.

 Losing my way

Keep losing my way...

Keep losing my way...

Can you help me find my way?

Losing my way

Keep losing my way

Keep losing my way...

Can you help me find my way?

 It is an open secret that I hated Regulus back then. And he did not like me either. We’ve just been too different! Except the fact that we both are Slytherins we don’t have anything in common. I thought of him as mean, bad and jaundiced. Today I know that he would have enough reasons to be exactly this, but he isn’t.

He simply managed to build a wall around him, so nobody’s getting too close. His mother, an alcohol-addict, caught in a loveless marriage, and his father, an extremist, who never cared about the well-being of his sons.

And it must have gotten worse since Sirius left him alone.

 And it is breaking me down

Watching the world spin round

While my dreams fall down

Is anybody out there?

 That’s why I understand him. And I admire his strength. But I’m in a comparable situation! That’s why I fell for him! That’s why I kept on trying to make him believe, he could trust me! I’m always there for him but he’s pushing me further and further away.

Now I’m afraid. I’m afraid because I think in this condition he’s unpredictable. I’m afraid our children get to grow up the way we did, and because of that I desperately need to tell him what I wanted him to know when I appeared in his room.

 It is breaking me down

No more friends around...

And my dreams fall down...

Is anybody out there?

 “All right! Go!” “Y/N, I’m doing this for us”, he answers me without showing any emotions. As usual. “For us?” “Yes, for us. We cannot go on like this.” “Then please tell me, what you’re about to do! Please show me, that you trust me! I love you!” “Believe me, when I tell you, that it’s safer for you, not to know it”, he says ignoring my last sentence, the way he always does, when I’m saying it. But I got over that a long time ago. Did I really?

“I’m safer? Regulus, what the hell are you up to?!” “How often do I need to repeat that? I will tell you, as soon as I come back!”, he’s getting louder and losing his control a little. “Did you try to run away without me?” “No! Y/N…I…I mean I could not…”, but he’s not ending his sentence, instead of that he’s starting again: “I cannot do this anymore. I finally got to do the right thing. Even if it's the last thing I'll ever do.”

“So I was right then? It is completely possible that you won’t come back?”, I’m asking, my tears running down my cheeks like waterfalls. He’s not answering. “You want to leave me behind?!”

 Can anybody out there hear me?

'Cause I can't seem to hear myself

Can anybody out there see me?

'Cause I can't seem to see myself

There's gotta be a heaven somewhere

Can you save me from this hell?

Can anybody out there feel me?

'Cause I can't seem to feel myself.

 “All I want is to do the right thing! The only reason for me not coming back would be if I died, Y/N! Under other circumstances I’d come back and get you! We’d leave this goddamn place together!” I’m looking at him, eyes wide open, while he’s doing something he normally doesn’t. He’s holding my hand and looking directly into my eyes.

“Why can’t we leave now?” I’m asking searching for something to hold on to in his grey eyes. “That’s impossible”, he’s leaning his forehead against mine and in spite of everything  I’m  enjoying his caring touches. “You said, you could die.  And without you I won’t survive here one single day”, I’m whispering exhausted. “Y/N, don’t even try to change my mind. I need to do this and I will do everything in my power to see you again, do you understand?”

 Losing my way

Keep losing my way

Keep losing my way

Can you help find my way?

Losing my way

Keep losing my way

Keep losing my way

Can you help me find my way?

 “And what if I told you I’m pregnant?” “Are you serious?” “Yes…” “Then this would even be another reason why I have to do it!” “Why?” “Because I don’t want my child to grow up, thinking his father is a coward. A stupid follower , who has never been brave enough to do the right thing!” “You’re not a coward, Regulus…” “Y/N, believe me, I’ll come back and then the both of us”, he’s interrupting himself and smiling: “Or the three of us are able to start a new life. A life in safety. Far away from here.”

Suddenly he’s kissing me. Longingly I’m wrapping my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me. But as fast as this moment came it’s gone again. “I love you, Y/N, and I promise I will come back.”

  Oh my God please forgive me

'Cause I know I've done some wrong in this life

 He never came back.

And as if this wasn’t bad enough, my father took my unborn child away a few months later. My very own father! After Regulus disappeared the Death Eaters been sure, he was a traitor, who ran away, because he was gutless. He has never been gutless!

And my father did not want me to give birth to the child of a traitor, so he got a potion. A potion that made him lose his little problem and me lose the last bit that was left of my husband.

Just a few weeks later, today, the Dark Lord died. He’s dead. The Potters son defeated him. Maybe if he had done that a bit earlier I wouldn’t have all those nightmares. Maybe I would not have this feeling, I could never be happy again and as if a part of me will always be missing.

Everyone is celebrating right now. But I’m standing on a cliff, the dark sea underneath me. I don’t have any reason to keep on living.

Everything that’s left to do is one simple step. I’m just lacking the boldness to do the last step. I said, I wouldn’t be able to do this without him… and there’s just this small distance to go to not be alone anymore. To finally be with them forever…

 If I could do it all again

Have just one more chance

To take all those wrongs and make them right

[ashes-and-ashes]

Love

“What does it feel like,” Regulus asks, “To love someone like that?”

Sirius jerks back, wrenching his arm out of Regulus’ grasp. They’re both in his room, the door locked and curtains drawn, Sirius shirtless on the ground. The lash marks stand out against his flesh, streaks of red like a sunset against the paleness of his skin.

Regulus knew he wasn’t supposed to do this, not really. His Mother had forbidden him to help Sirius, spat the words at him as she towered over Sirius’ broken body on the floor. Blacks don’t help anyone but themselves. He is not part of our family.

He had believed it for a while, the burning words and the blood. Believed that Sirius was evil, that he was trying to rip their perfect life apart. They hated each other for ages, snide comments and hateful glances, Regulus whispering all the things Sirius had done into his mother’s ear.

But he couldn’t take it any longer, Sirius’ whimpers, the metallic scent of blood. He’s heard the sound of ripping flesh, heard the noise of cracking bone, leather against skin and the sharp scent of magic.

It was hard to believe that your brother was a selfish bastard when he was crumpled on the floor, bleeding out after taking on Walburga’s wrath.

Regulus carefully sets the bowl down, the water stained a light pink from the blood. He’s gotten good at healing spells, from all the hours he’s spent repairing all of Sirius’ wounds. He’s not skilled enough to erase the scars though - they’re silvery-white and a livid pink, like raised threads cutting into Sirius’ skin.

Sirius shoots him a guarded look. He’s lost weight - his face thin and sallow, his collarbones jutting our from under the skin. Regulus reaches carefully for his wand.

“Sirius,” he says. “You’re going to rip the wounds open again. The spell hasn’t set properly yet.”

Sirius ignores him. Emotions flicker across his face; surprise, wariness, fear. It would have been impossible for anyone else to see them, anyone else but Regulus. Sirius was the one who taught him about masks, the carefully neutral sheet of marble that hid his true feelings. Only he could see the cracks in it, the small hollows where Sirius’ emotions warred with his self-control.

“What do you mean,” Sirius says slowly, “By ‘love?’”

Regulus resists the urge to roll his eyes. He glances down at his fingers, at his arm where the Dark Mark would one day be. “Don’t be an idiot. You know exactly what I mean.”

Sirius leans back on his hands. There’s a cocky, arrogant smile on his face, a smile Regulus knew well - he often used it himself after all. “What? Who do you think I’m dating?” He laughs, the sound tinted with that slight hoarseness that let Regulus know it was fake. “Trust me, Marlene and I are just friends. I know she’s stunning and gorgeous and has legs for days - “

“Remus,” Regulus says.

The smile slides off Sirius’ face. He sits up, wincing as he did so; Regulus curses as he sees the wounds start to split open.

Sirius takes a deep breath. “What about him?”

Regulus shakes his head. “Jesus, Si, it’s not like it’s a secret or something. You two have been mentally undressing each other for the past 2 years. Of course you two are together.”

Panic fills Sirius’ face now, raw, unfiltered panic. His voice rasps, the sound so hoarse from his screaming as he breathes, “Who knows?”

Regulus knows the real question he’s asking. Does she know?

“No,” he says, meeting Sirius’ eyes. “She doesn’t.”

The relief that does upon Sirius’ face makes Regulus’ heart hurt. That Sirius would believe he’d tell their mother, would willingly subject him to that torture...

“What do you want?” Sirius whispers.

Regulus closes his eyes. “Tell me what it’s like.”

“To be in love?”

Regulus nods. “Yes.”

Sirius goes silent. He presses his hand to his side, winces, his face going pale. With a soft curse he pushes himself up against the bottom of the bed, leans back against the edge.

“It’s like...like you’re a boat. And you’re sailing, along a river and there’s a waterfall - a huge one, like the one we found in the woods when we were 8? And you’re on that boat, and you can see the bottom of the lake or ocean or whatever hundreds of meters below you, and then you plunge down and that swooping feeling in your stomach...”

Sirius shrugs. “It’s like you’re burning. That’s how it feels - like you’re on fire. And Remus...he’s like water, I guess. I keep getting drawn back to him, even though I try to stay away. And it scares me, sometimes, what I wouldn’t do for him, because I’d literally do anything. I’d tear apart the entire world form him, piece by fucking piece, I’d ruin myself if it means he’d be happy.”

“I’ve never felt like that before,” Regulus whispers. He glances down, at the bowl of water and blood and his own reflection. “I’ve never felt that strongly. About anyone. Not in that way.”

Sirius tilts his head. Cautiously, carefully he opens his hands.

And maybe it’s wrong of him, to accept yet another thing from Sirius. Maybe it’s wrong of him to want his brother’s love so desperately, when he’s watched him scream out until his voice broke on the kitchen floor. Maybe he’s horrible, selfish, that bastard that his mother claimed Sirius is, broken and rotten inside.

But Regulus can’t stop himself from folding into Sirius’ arms, all blood and bones and bruises, can’t stop himself from letting Sirius cradle him, fitting his broken pieces slowly back together.