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kquil · 3 months ago

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DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER FIVE

05 : SIRIUS : FIRST DAY

CHPT. SUM. : Sirius goes to Hogwarts and his sorting causes a stir at school and at home.

LENGTH : 11.8k

TAGS : fluff ; hurt/comfort ; marauders origins dob ver. ; friendship beginnings ; mini-therapy session with the sorting hat ; regulus being a cutie ; sirius finding his place ; regulus needs a hug ; first day at hogwarts ; orion being the worst husband and father ever ; momma bear reader ; not canon compliant

← PREV. | 04 : BEGINNINGS | SERIES M.LIST

1st September 1971

Sirius smiles faintly at his younger brother, the two of them separated by the window of the Hogwarts Express. For a moment, all of the excitement that had been bouncing around in his stomach suddenly compressed into a weighted ball of anxiety. Hogwarts was going to be a fun, new adventure, you had reassured him of such that morning, however, seeing Regulus looking up at him through the window made his stomach drop into an unknown abyss.

"Take care, Siri," Regulus smiles toothily, having to tilt his chin up to see his older brother better. He didn't want to forget a single detail about how his brother looked. It was an unreasonable fear but Regulus was scared stiff over forgetting a single thing about his older brother.

"'Course! You take care too, Reg," Sirius looks up at you for a moment but you don't meet his eyes, seemingly distracted by something that catches your eye in the crowd, "I know Mother is different now but I'm worried about you..."

Shocked by his brother's concern, Regulus feels a small urge to look over his shoulder and observe you in the hopes that the swelling of apprehension in his stomach can settle, somewhat. It's easy to trust you now but it's also just as easy to fall back on being guarded, for his own self-protection — with Sirius gone, his only brother, who often acts as his shield and protector, fear is one stray, all-consuming thought away from devouring them both. They've never been without the other for any extended period of time. This was going to be a first.

"I know..." Regulus nervously tugs on the hem of his sleeves, trying to ground himself with the action, "but I don't think she'll change back... and besides, I have Kreacher," Sirius' lips pull into a thin line. Yes, he's started getting along with the house elf a lot better recently, mainly due to Regulus and his mother's influence but Sirius knows the truth. If Kreacher was ever forced to choose between Regulus and his mother, Kreacher would pick you, the Matriarch of the Black family. His little brother is too naive and soft-hearted for his own good.

"Write to me if anything goes wrong, okay?" Regulus only nods before they silently decide to let go of the tense subject and, at least, part on a lighter note, "I promise I'll write to you about everything that happens, I won't miss a single detail!" the two grin at each other, "By the time I come back, you'll be an expert about Hogwarts and you won't be fumbling around and making mistakes like me on your first year,"

A sharp whistle tears through the air and the brothers share a tearful look before Regulus rushes back to cling onto your skirt, the both of you keeping your eyes solely on Sirius whose heart can't stop clenching — in distress or excitement, he cannot fathom what the emotion behind it all is. In the distance, he watches his mother's lips move to form the words 'I love you'. It's like she's whispering it to him, loving and kind and full of warmth, like the wonderful mother she's suddenly become. Just one month... he wishes you had been whispering that endearment to him for longer than that.

Despite his worries about what may happen to Regulus in his absence, Sirius meets your eyes with a smile and whispers an 'I love you' back. Deep in his chest, his heart settles in content, happy and blissfully optimistic over your disposition. Your eyes hold such bountiful amounts of love, that he feels slightly ashamed for thinking the worst of you. There's no way you would dare lay a hand on Regulus the way you used to, in a cruel means to elicit 'appropriate' behaviour. Not when you adored cuddling him so much, not when you adored pressing soft kisses into his head of curls, not when you catered to his preferences for every meal ever since that fateful day, and especially not when you would always be the first to step in between him and their father during every irate spat.

The train begins to move away from the platform, leaving you and his brother behind but Sirius occupies his seat unworried. His little brother and mother are good with each other. They're perfectly fine. Looking around him, Sirius observes the completely empty compartment aside from himself.

As the train journey continues, he stays alone. Anyone who pops their head in immediately turns away at the sight of him, fumbling with the half-hearted excuse of already having found an empty cabin elsewhere. He almost rolls his eyes at their behaviour. His family was feared for their status and 'etiquette' but that didn't mean he was the same, he was still a kid. Then again, those who peaked in were kids too...

This was going to be a long journey.

James Potter wasn't one to waste time, he was a doer. So when he finds himself unable to find a free cabin along with another two blokes, both rather shorter than him, one with brown hair, who's swamped under a grandpa sweater while the other adorns sandy-blonde locks and a neatly pressed polo shirt with slightly tattered ends, he takes charge. He leads them from one end of the train to the other, all in the search for a free cabin. The hunt was looking bleak at first but that was another thing about James Potter, he wasn't one to easily give up... even when the only cabin that seemed available was the one occupied by Sirius Black.

"Do you mind if we sit with you?" James asks, trying to mask his tense attitude towards the pureblood wizard, "It's full everywhere else,"

"Go ahead," Sirius smiles with a slight tension to his shoulders as well, gesturing to the empty seats around him. James sits directly opposite Sirius with Peter beside him, while Remus takes the seat opposite Peter and beside Sirius. It appears as though Peter knows who Sirius is and Remus is completely oblivious, his polite but blithe smile directed at the Black family firstborn being the main indicator.

"I'm James Potter," James finally introduces, confident and with his chest. The three greet him back before introducing themselves in return. The round, sandy-blonde bloke was Peter Pettigrew, the brunette dressed like a grandpa was Remus Lupin and the last of them, neat as a pin with paper-pale skin, sharp features and shiny black hair was Sirius Black but most people already knew that.

"Aren't you part of that really old pureblood family?" Remus mentions cooly, as if not understanding the gravity of his question as a muggle-born (or half-blood, James doesn't know yet).

"Yeah," Sirius replies, not appearing too pleased with the observation and remains quiet.

"You'll be in Slytherin then?" Peter blurts without knowing, catching himself only after he's voiced his invasive thought and claps his hands over his running mouth. Beneath his hands, Peter's cheeks glow a bright pink and he avoids all eye contact with everyone in the cabin, his limbs beginning to shake in fear the longer Sirius holds off on answering to his thoughts.

"I don't really want to end up there," Sirius shrugs and turns to stare out the window, perfectly happy to occupy himself with the passing scenery. He's fed up with everyone's judgemental attitude. Can't a single person give him a chance?! He isn't asking for the world!

James was shocked, "Really?!" it made him stammer how far he'd misjudged the Black family's first son.

"I'm not like the rest of my family,"

"Thank Merlin!" James dramatically sags his shoulders in relief before grinning toothily and leaning forward to clap Sirius over the shoulder, "I thought you'd be another dark pureblood prick with a stiff lip and no sense of humour,"

The tension is completely broken as soon as Sirius throws his head back and laughs without restraint, clutching his belly and shaking at the shoulders with mirth. Even Peter is relieved at Sirius' reaction, momentarily pausing in his frantic rummaging through his shoulder bag. Remus only seems to have realised the previous tension in the air from the dramatic shift it takes but continues smiling anyway, this time with more ease than before.

Sirius returns his grinning gaze to James, who mirrors his expression, "Not a prick and definitely��not stiffed lip. Sense of humour, you'll have to find out later on," all those high society wizard dinners, events and soirees could have been spent in better company, James and Sirius realised. If only they dared to approach each other sooner, without their family's prejudices hanging over them, puppeteering their actions. They could have shared laughter, made fun of the boring atmosphere and become close friends. But regrets like these were minimal in the grand scheme of things. They had a full year at Hogwarts to make up for it and grow the friendship they'd missed out on.

It's then that Sirius' vision is suddenly invaded by Peter's outstretched hand and a singular, colourfully wrapped chocolate on his palm, "I'm sorry for speaking out like that," Sirius smiles and accepts the gift happily.

"You're not bad, Peter,"

Seemingly spurred on by Sirius' show of forgiveness and kindness, Peter launches into a joke he had memorised for the sake of calming his nerves at the thought of struggling to make any friends, "Hey, so why do you think toddlers are so bad at magic?"

His statement seems to be taken seriously by the three boys at first as they ponder thoughtfully for a moment. But ultimately, with no answer in mind, they shake their heads and look to the portly bloke for the solution.

"Why?" Remus prompts.

"Because they can't spell!"

It was a bad joke, so bad that Remus released a small giggle while James and Sirius laughed boisterously, more so at Peter's expectant expression than the joke itself. They couldn't believe that he thought that joke would land well but his eagerness to elicit laughter was all they needed to lose themselves in the merriment. The four of them quickly dive into meaningless but fun conversations, sometimes splitting off into conversing pairs before returning to speak as a group again. Remus tended to be quiet and leaked a more nervous disposition than others whereas Peter eagerly tried to partake in whatever conversation was around, trying to land more jokes and input his opinion wherever, even if the mismatch of tone and timing wasn't always ideal. James and Sirius were the most enthusiastic and smoothly went from one subject to the next, it was a seamless river of constant conversation that was occasionally interrupted by chewing on the delicious treats carted over by the trolley lady, as well as the need for easy silence — a necessary, trouble-free pause.

Hours passed like this and eventually, an older prefect was knocking on their compartment door to peek in and ask that they change into their school robes.

"We'll be arriving soon,"

Everyone's robes were black and didn't adorn any of the Hogwarts house colours. For now, they were a small group of friends, eagerly awaiting their new chapter of life to begin.

Sirius stood on the edge of the lake as a deep sense of anticipation churned within him, replacing the excitement evoked by getting dressed on the train. Pulling on those robes and seeing his mother's capricious but careful stitches brought a realness to the situation — he was going to be attending the most prestigious wizarding school in all of England. It felt surreal but oh so tangible from where he stood.

The small boats that would ferry the many first years across to Hogwarts bob gently in the water before them, each one enchanted to move with a simple command. Beside him, Remus, James and Peter also look forward with James appearing to be the only one still in possession of his earlier eagerness. The journey to Hogwarts was incredibly long and, by now, it was already nighttime. There was a chill in the air as the sky draped over them, coloured in the deepest twilight hue with a scattering of stars spread across it. Looming ahead was the prodigious silhouette of Hogwarts Castle. Its many turrets and towers stretched up, trying to pierce the sky as its many windows were alit with a golden glow from within — inviting and warm and magical. Once again, the excitement was back...

It appears as though the constant fight between his enthusiasm and terror of the unknown will be giving him unsteady feet and fidgeting hands for the rest of the night.

Rubeus Hagrid, the half-giant gamekeeper and groundskeeper steps into a boat with his rusty, incandescent lantern and encourages the first years to follow along behind him. Everyone was to be seated in one of the many boats as a group, some as strangers, some as newly made friends. Luckily Sirius had already found his group of friends and they were one of the first to follow along behind the half-giant. Peter was a bit scared to step into the boat but with some encouragement and light teasing, they were soon setting sail with everybody else.

"See? It's not so bad, is it, Peter?" James grins, catching sight of the sandy blonde's entranced expression as he gazes into the lake's glimmering, moonlit waters.

"We don't even need to paddle," Sirius shares a look with James and the two grin widely.

Peter musters a taut smile and nods, attempting to calm his racing heart. He seems to finally find some comfort in the glittering waters below them, "Y-yeah, not so bad,"

"Be careful not to lean too far over the edge though," Remus warns politely, "overtipping the balance might capsize the boat," Peter pales and hastily rights himself, earning a chuckle from everyone on board.

"Capsizing the boat, huh? What an adventure that will be!" James laughs brightly. He's a carefree spirit, one that Sirius can't help but be entranced by. Being around James is addictive. It's a new experience being in the presence of someone so opposite to his family's disreputable 'noble' ways. It's gotten a lot better because of his mother's recent change of heart but James is the type of person who elicits a lasting impression. Looking around the small boat they share, Sirius can tell that he's not the only one; Peter and Remus seem to be just as enchanted by the messy-haired boy's charm.

Steadily approaching Hogwarts makes the castle's colossal size more apparent. It's a massive, ancient structure that breathes with so much magic, that there's an evident vibration in the air surrounding it that makes the hairs on his skin stand up. Seeing the impressive castle in person was overwhelming but in the best way. A feeling of adventure begins to bubble in Sirius' lower belly and slowly begins to rise through him — a feverish anticipation for what he may get up to within its stone walls. It's a place where he can be truly free... finally. His mother's new attitude has been a solace and a comfort and has given him a small taste of what freedom was like but there was always the danger of his ill-tempered father. Here, Sirius feels as though he can finally, truly be free.

What a feeling...

Beneath the castle were a set of docks that the boats smoothly slid into. Hagrid was already out of his boat and holding his lantern up by the time they managed to reach him followed by the other first years. After clambering out of their buoyant vessels, Hagrid proceeds to lead everyone up a winding path, all the way up to the castle's front entrance. Its large front doors creak open and they were quickly ushered into the Entrance Hall. The vast space was cool but also warmed by the fire torches strategically placed about the perimeter, their dancing flames casting across the polished stone and giving rise to the first years' blended shadows. There's an apprehensive but electrifying buzz in the air as Hagrid bids them a temporary farewell, leaving them to a teacher.

Professor Minerva McGonagall is who she introduces herself as, the deputy headmistress and head of Gryffindor House. No wonder she was the one tasked with leading them into the Great Hall. She stands as a figure of authority and elegance.

McGonagall was not yet old. Her sharp, angular features were softened slightly by the subtle laugh lines framing her observant eyes — she isn't a stranger to smiling, though Sirius was finding it a little difficult to envision her with a grin. Her hair was a deep brown that pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck, with not a single strand out of place. Her meticulous appearance only added to the impression that she was someone who did not tolerate nonsense. And yet, there was something about her that made Sirius believe she wasn't just a disciplinarian. There was an underlying warmth to her, hidden by her strict exterior as a prestigious Hogwarts professor. It's a warmth that spoke of the deep affection and care held for her students. He could see it in her eyes the same way he saw it in his changed mother's eyes — although sharp, they seemed to soften ever so slightly when looking over the younger students.

Her robes were made of a rich and heavy fabric, a dark emerald green that was almost regal in its fashion when draping over her silhouette. She moved with a grace that tactically concealed the strictness in her demeanour, each step was purposeful and her posture remained impossibly straight — the kind that his previous etiquette teacher desperately tried to force upon him, with no such luck; he was too stubborn for his own good, and he had the faded welts to prove it.

"Behind these doors is the Great Hall. And it is where you shall be sorted into your houses. There are four: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin," she explains briefly, "I will call out your name and one by one, you shall be seated and sorted by the sorting hat before the student body. You shall then sit with your house where you will wait until everyone is sorted and then we can have the opening dinner," she spoke with a clear and precise voice that had a very slight Scottish lilt to it, making her spoken words crisp and authoritative. Her voice was similar to the one his mother once had, it was the kind that cut through the chatter of a room with ease, immediately silencing those she cast her unwavering gaze upon. His mother's voice has since become much warmer and gentler as of late. And, although such an imperious voice usually made Sirius stiffen up with alertness, McGonagall didn't prompt any sort of reaction from him. She embodied a form of discipline he was familiar with but there was something more to her, and she balanced those opposing features very well.

With that, McGonagall led the group of first years into the Great Hall. Above him, the ceiling was enchanted to mirror the night sky he had just witnessed on the boat across the Black Lake, however, instead of blinking, distant stars, the night sky of the Great Hall was illuminated by floating candles. Four long tables stretched and occupied a vast amount of space in the large room. Most of the chairs by the tables were predominantly occupied except for the ones closest to the front of the room, near where the teachers had their own table, gazing over the students and smiling fondly at the first years walking in for the first time, led by the deputy headmistress.

The many students that were already seated were dressed in similar black robes but had embellishments of differing colours, colours that differentiated them into their different houses, one red, another, blue, the other, yellow and finally green. The students' eyes eagerly followed the newcomers, the youngest in the large pond that was Hogwarts. To the front of the hall, there was a raised platform with a singular stool on it, where an old hat sat — the sorting hat.

Sirius's heart pounded violently against his chest as he assembled behind the stool with the rest of the first years. McGonagall stepped up to the left of the stool and was given a scroll of parchment that listed all the names of the first years who were to be sorted. Without wasting a second, she immediately began to call them out. It was in alphabetical order according to surnames so Sirius knew that he would be one of the first to be sorted. Nevertheless, the few that came before him had a very welcoming experience. It was simple enough. Once seated, the hat would be placed on their head and after some time or very little time at all, the hat's voice boomed through the hall, echoing its final and irrevocable decision of where the student should be housed. The student was then met with the loud and welcoming cheers of their fellow housemates, who eagerly beckoned them over to their table while the head of house clapped and smiled from their seat by the rest of the staff.

Sirius's hands clenched into tight fists as he waited. The tension paralysing his limbs was unbearable. He knew what was to be expected of him. Slytherin, like all the Blacks before him. But the thought of even joining that house, of being surrounded by the same cold, pureblood superiority that he had grown up with made his intestines knot themselves up and his stomach fall into a bottomless pit. However, inside him raged an inner battle... Sirius remembers the kind softness of his reformed mother, the vivid image appearing in his head along with the ghost of her warm embrace and loving kisses — he didn't want to disappoint her. He's been granted such happiness by her recently, he didn't want to have that stolen away from him all too suddenly because of his house sorting. He wouldn't know what to do if he should be faced with the familiar disappointment and rage in her eyes once more—

Suddenly, his name was called.

"Black, Sirius!"

Silence swept the hall as Sirius stepped forth. Hundreds of eyes lingered on him all judging and wondering and evident with the same supposition he had grown up with — Slytherin. He even saw some eyes drift away after the initial call of his name. It was as if they knew what would come of the sorting and felt he didn't need the assistance of the hat to be put in a house.

As Sirius climbed the steps and sat on the stool, bitterness over the expectation placed on him, not just by his family but by complete strangers too lit his heart ablaze with stubborn denial and renunciation of the elitist house. The hat decedent far enough to cover his eyes, done past his nose, blackening out the rest of the world as the hat's voice began to ring between his ears and within his mind.

"Ah, another Black," the hat mused thoughtfully, "But not— your mind is different, you, yourself are different, aren't you? Not like the other Blacks..." The statement from the hat makes Sirius' heart skip a beat and soar higher than the sky. It was a relief, a validation of his circumstance that he deeply yearned for without even knowing until that moment. He lets the words echo in his ears and hopes to permanently stamp them into his brain. "And you're happy about that are you?" the hat chuckles, somewhat, condescendingly at him, "But you're plenty cunning and ambitious too, much like your many kinsfolk," his heart stutters in his chest again, this time with dread. The hat's words steal his breath and make his mind race with alarm. There's a pause, the hat seeming to delight in Sirius' inner conflict, his scrambled mind being the perfect entertainment for the tattered garment, "And yet, it cannot be denied how different you are, also," Sirius calms ever so slightly, able to breathe again, "yes, brave... with a fierce independence. You want to prove yourself, that's very easy to tell, to be more than what they expect or is it merely petty disobedience?"

Sirius holds his breath once more.

"Well then," the hat says decisively, its voice doubling and suddenly coming from two places at once, "it better be... GRYFFINDOR!"

His irrefutable house placement was shouted aloud, the shock giving way to a momentary, extension of silence before the hall erupts into massive applause. Sliding out from under the hat's cone body, a broad grin splits across Sirius' face.

Gryffindor! Not Slytherin!

He rushes down the steps and hurries to the Gryffindor table, who cheer wildly and smile broadly at him becoming a member. They were happy, cheering and in celebration of him. The moment he sits down, he's immediately bombarded with congratulatory slaps on the back and introductions. A boy who looked a little older than him clapped him on the shoulder with a bright grin, "Welcome to Gryffindor, mate!"

"Thanks," Sirius replied, breathless from the experience. A weight had lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in his life, he was presented with solid evidence that he was nothing like his many other rotten family members, and it felt... incredible.

The sorting ceremony continued without pause and Sirius eagerly awaited for the sorting of the friends he had made on the train. Lupin, Remus a little while after him (Gryffindor). Pettigrew, Peter came soon enough (Gryffindor). Right after him, Potter, James was sorted (Gryffindor). All of them were sorted into the proud house of the lion, symbolising bravery and courage, their robes immediately donning scarlet and golden accents.

"What luck!" James expresses as soon as he sits by them again. They share a look, their eyes twinkling and their grins pinned high up on their youthful cheeks. To think that they would be in the same house after becoming friends on the train!

Curiously, Sirius glances back at the other tables, quickly skimming over the blues and yellows to land on green accents. The Slytherins pinned him with narrowed eyes, their expressions ranging from surprise to outright disdain. Their transparent judgement, however, was easy to ignore, he wanted nothing to do with them anyway. Instead, he focuses on his fellow Gryffindors, his found family at Hogwarts. These were his people now, and he was determined to prove himself worthy of the lion's crest on his chest.

The feast began shortly after the last student was sorted. The tables were filled with an array of food that made Sirius' mouth water. Roasted chicken, platters of mashed potatoes, steaming bowls of vegetables, and an assortment of pies and puddings appeared before him — all accumulating into a delicious combined fragrance. There was no hesitation when it came to piling his plate high with every dish his heart desired. The food looked delicious but...compared to the loving and hearty meals his mother had been cooking for him the past month, only the sheer amount he was able to consume was able to satiate him after the long journey. The carefully curated flavours and the touch of a mother's love weren't there anymore. He supposes not everything can be perfect. Thankfully, the atmosphere was alive with chatter and laughter, an infectious combination that distracted him easily.

The night wore on, the food slowly disappearing from the tables, and when many of the students were no longer occupied by their food the Headmaster finally saw it fit to make his welcoming speech. Albus Dumbledore rose from his place at the staff table, surrounded by his many other professor colleagues and calls for silence. Almost immediately, the room quieted and all eyes were trained on him.

"Welcome," Dumbledore begins, his voice ancient like a dust-covered book but amiable, "welcome to Hogwarts, to those of you who have just started, I hope that the reception was favourable. And to those returning, hopefully, you are just as thrilled to spend another year with us as we are. I trust that after the long journey and heartily filled bellies, you are all ready for bed." He raises an arm and prompts the rise of several older students donning embellished badges decorated with their house colours, "your prefects will be the ones to escort you to your dorms,"

A password is required to gain access to the Gryffindor common room where only Gryffindor students are allowed. The password this time is 'sola libertas' (solitary freedom). It was exciting like having a secret place nobody else was allowed into except Sirius and his many other Gryffindor brethren.

"Your dorm rooms would have already been assigned to you and your luggage, moved accordingly," the prefect begins telling the first years as the older students head to their respective dorms, already assigned to them in their first year. Sirius can't help but feel slightly anxious at the idea that he may have to depart from his already close group of friends. Looking around, Peter, Remus and James appear to share the same sentiment; at least he wasn't alone in that regard, "these shall be your dorm room assignments for your entire education at Hogwarts. The boys' dormitories are on the left, up the staircase and down, the girls are the same but on the right," Sirius would have eagerly taken in the aesthetics of his new house's common room if he wasn't so anxious about who he would be sharing a dorm with for his entire seven years at Hogwarts. Rushing up the left staircase and down another set, he quickly finds the dormitories and goes searching for where his belongings should be, however, there wasn't any need to. On a few of the dorm room doors were a piece of paper that listed the new students that were to occupy the space. The dorms that didn't have a piece of paper attached presumably belonged to the older students who were already settled in.

Sirius scans the first door but doesn't find his name or any of the others. The second door, however, made him grin brightly. Looking over his shoulder, he attempts to turn and call out to his three new friends but is met with their curious expressions and already-approaching figures.

Catching sight of Sirius' grin, James breaks out into a light sprint, matching Sirius' grin with one of his own, "are we all sharing a dorm then?"

"You bet we are!" With a cheer, the two raise their arms to drape across one another's shoulders before facing Peter and Remus together. As soon as the remaining two heard the good news, all of them were eager to step inside and begin unpacking.

Entering the rather generous space, they find that their sleeping arrangements have already been chosen for them with their trunks placed at the foot of their beds. Everyone had a single bed to their name, a desk area, a full-length mirror, a wardrobe, a bedside table and a tall, standing lamp at their other bedside. One side of the dorm had tall windows to let in some natural light but it seemed as though a majority of their lighting would be coming from the lamps or candelabras littered about the room. At the centre of the space was a freestanding, cast iron fire heater to keep everybody warm on cold days. Most of the room was left sparse for them to decorate as they wished, there were even some empty plant pots available for those with green thumb hobbies. Or maybe it was in anticipation of a future herbology project? Nevertheless, the space was cosy and Sirius immediately felt at home as he began to unpack his things with the rest of the boys, occasionally joining in idle conversation to pass the silence.

James brought up the question of what everyone would like to do for the rest of tonight, other than unpacking. Remus was happy to just sit and read before bed, Peter simply shrugged his shoulders, already appearing exhausted by the day's events. It was up to James and Sirius to commence a game of exploding snap.

2nd September 1971

You've already sent off Sirius' letter, congratulating him on a job well done for his first day, you've even included a little gift to commemorate his sorting into Gryffindor. Thankfully, you thought to arrange everything in advance or else you wouldn't have gotten it to him on time – the prototype stage was very tedious but incredibly worth it. You only hope Sirius sees your effort and wears it religiously or else all that work would have been for nothing.

It was lonely to be in the house without him but you and Regulus are managing, it helped a lot that you still had your youngest with you — he was so incredibly precious and sweet; he almost managed to sweep your mind clear of Sirius at some points. Your developed routine didn't change much, once Regulus was in his appointed tutoring session with Peony, you went about your errands, sometimes, it required getting out of the house so you needed to be careful with your timing. You weren't comfortable knowing that, if you were late, Peony would be gone and Regulus would be home alone with his wretched father.

Over time, your sudden change of heart has had an adverse effect on Orion, who wasn't very good at hiding his anger regardless of how much he tried to suppress it. His mounting outrage was set to explode soon enough so you weren't surprised to hear his raging voice booming through number 12 Grimmauld Place, shaking the tenuous walls with his ferocity.

It didn't take a genius to foresee such an outburst and, because you knew about Sirius' sorting beforehand, you easily remained composed in the heat of Orion's violent rage. The sounds that came from his home office were unmistakably the destruction of a vase following the overturning of furniture, as well as the breakage of other miscellaneous things. You couldn't tell the extent seeing as you remained as far away from his office as much as possible, the way one would avoid a radioactive area. Orion himself was made of pure radiation.

Soon enough, Orion's seething figure barrelled out of his office with a force that had the door slamming against the wall. Stepping through, his imposing silhouette was ablaze with dark flames that were rooted to his sizeable, shaking shoulders. He didn't seem satisfied with the rampage he had in his room and immediately went to throw about the hallway furnishings as well. What a baby... (Eye roll).

Regulus should be in the home library reading up on material Peony asked him to review, a diligent and bright student, your perfect baby boy. However, when you turn in the library's direction, you see Regulus peeking out with the most horrified expression you've ever seen. It breaks your heart and quickly make your way over to him, ignoring your pathetic excuse for a husband.

"I'm sorry about your father, dear," you whisper as soon as you get to his side.

"M-mother—" his stutter comes to a stop when he sees you shake your head and observes your soft expression. You've been able to sense his thoughts a lot more clearly, always attentive to his needs and wants, like a good mother should. You assume he was feeling at fault for his father's rage when he couldn't be further from the truth.

Just in case, you reiterate the fact to him, "It's not your fault, sweetheart," bringing him into an embrace, you give his shaking figure an assuring squeeze while you press a kiss to his temple, "Let's go to your room, okay? Ignore your father," you didn't wait for an answer and whispered a 'muffliato' charm around his ears. Rather than hearing his pathetic father's rage, he is accompanied by you and a slight buzzing sound whilst traversing the hallway from the library to his bedroom.

You don't immediately release the muffliato charm from Regulus' ears. The first priority was getting him into bed, nice and cosy, the next was soundproofing the room with the imperturbable charm and ensuring that the door was locked, just in case Orion wanted to invade Regulus' space too. As an additional measure, you call for Kreacher and ask him to warn you if Orion ever sets his eyes on Regulus' bedroom, to which the house elf immediately obliges. With everything set, you finally lift the muffliato charm from Regulus.

"What's father upset about, Mother?" Regulus curls in on himself beneath the covers, tucking his chin over his knees as his arms wrap around his covered shins. The sight makes your heart clench painfully. He looked so scared and small, he didn't look like your bright and shining boy anymore... Orion that prick!

"Your father received news of Sirius' house sorting," the dreaded look that crosses Regulus' face saddens you further. You do your best to calm him down by sitting at his bedside and combing your fingers through his hair. "Your father isn't setting the best example by throwing a tantrum over something so trivial," the comment was your attempt at distracting Regulus from the situation, "don't worry about him, okay? He's only being a big baby for throwing such a fuss,"

"H-he can't do anything to Sirius though..." Regulus responds, his mind far too occupied with worry for his older brother, "he's all the way in Hogwarts, Father won't be able to get to him," your youngest's pleading eyes blink up at you for confirmation, seeking comfort. His only comfort is the knowledge of his brother's safety.

"No, he can't," Regulus relaxes ever so slightly as you press another kiss onto the crown of his head, "Not to worry, my dear, everything will be okay," with some gentle prodding, you manage to get Regulus into your lap where you lock him in a comforting embrace and begin to hum a random but soft tune. Your pathetic excuse of a husband should know better than this, he's being such a sensitive little prick. No wonder Sirius had such issues with his anger before you got here. It was all Orion's influence... and probably the original Walburga too.

"What a bad influence he is..." you mutter absentmindedly, the bitterness in your expression tangible.

"You're not talking about Sirius are you?!" Regulus looks up in alarm, pushing against you so he can stare into your eyes and seems to want to pull away completely.

"Of course not," you reassure in a hurry, wanting to curse yourself for being so loose-lipped. He's still pulled away slightly and you thought it best to allow him to return to your embrace in his own time, "I was talking about your father," Regulus watches with observant eyes as you shake your head disapprovingly and tut, "even though Sirius has been angry for a long time, he's gotten much better with managing his emotions, don't you think?" Regulus nods and slowly begins to fold into your arms again, "I bet you that Sirius would respond much better to bad news than your father,"

"...what happened mother?..."

With the happiest smile, you whisper the news against your youngest's soft, inky locks, "Sirius got sorted into Gryffindor,"

Regulus pulls away in shock but his eyes are sparkling with wonder, "really?!"

"Really,"

"That makes him the first one ever in our family,"

Nodding enthusiastically, the both of you share a smile, "yes it does, aren't you proud of your big brother?" you ask with a giggle. Naturally happy for Sirius, Regulus nods without missing a beat.

"You're proud of him too, mother?" you almost miss Regulus' concerned tone due to your own excitement.

"Always," you hold him close and squeeze him once more, "I'll always be proud of my beautiful sons. Seeing the two of you grow into your personalities and into men will always be cause for celebration," Regulus wraps his arms around your shoulders and presses his face into the base of your neck, inhaling the new fragrance against your skin — his mother never used to wear such gentle fragrances, Regulus doesn't believe his mother ever used to wear fragrance at all but having such a pretty and pleasant scent to associate you with after your change of heart makes him so happy.

"You won't be mad if I'm sorted into a different house like Sirius, right?"

"Never." you were resolute and felt the smile curling Regulus' lips against your skin.

"Not even if I'm in Gryffindor too?"

His cheekiness makes you laugh freely, "It'll be tough being outnumbered by two Gryffindors but even then... even then, I'll be so proud and so happy for both of you,"

Your moment is broken by the sudden appearance of Kreacher who warns you of Orion's approaching figure, as promised. The warning has you jumping to your feet and tucking Regulus back into bed. His small hand reaches for your own and you easily weave your fingers together for comfort.

BANG!

For the man to have the audacity to kick at Regulus' door makes your blood boil. Living in such a magical world, you know that the door wouldn't stay locked forever so you step over to block Regulus' view of Orion, subsequently hiding Regulus and keeping him from the danger that was his father's irate gaze.

"LOCKING DOORS MY HOUSE?!"

"Get out, Orion," you order plainly and with an unamused expression.

"WHAT?!"

"Regulus and I have every right to lock our doors if we don't want your company, especially when it's so unpleasant. Now, get out,"

Ignoring your words, Orion steps to the side and makes direct eye contact with Regulus, who begins to shake. His small hand clenched around your fingers with such force that your circulation gets obstructed but you pay it no mind – whatever he needs to feel safe in that moment.

"If you don't go to Slytherin, you're going to be as big of a disappointment as your no-good brother!"

"Orion!" you shout in disbelief, too shocked at the asshole's audacity to do much else.

"You shan't go anywhere else! I'll throw you into the vault for an entire month otherwise! And then you're gone from this family! DO YOU HEAR ME?! LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M SPEAKING TO YOU REGULUS!"

Rushing forward, you push Orion back with such force, that he almost makes it out of the door. And before he can protest, you continue pushing him until he is out in the hallway. If it wasn't for Regulus being there, you would have clobbered him the good 'muggle' way but you had to set a good example for Regulus and managed to repress your emotions until the bedroom door was closed. Finally, you and Orion were alone in the hallway.

"Walburga you—!"

"Calm yourself, Orion! You're frightening Regulus and you're frightening me! Stop it this instant!" Orion looks at you with utter disbelief, his eyes, still ablaze with anger, gradually mixed with swirling pools of shock and perplexity. The woman who stands before him is not the wife he married and disciplined his sons with.

"Have you not read the letters?!" Orion tries to put logic behind your actions, his befuddlement completely disorienting him — thankfully, he's managed to lower his voice, somewhat.

"Of course I have!" you hiss, lying through your teeth. The night of Sirius' first day, the letters already started to pour in but you hadn't opened a single one, already knowledgeable of the news you were going to receive from them. With a dramatic huff, Orion crosses his arms and looks at you with an expression of 'well?', silently asking you to explain yourself but instead, you're turning away completely. "I'll be right back," I have something more important to address right now.

"Walb—!" you pay the bastard no attention and re-enter Regulus' room. On his bed, you find your youngest shaking in fear and with the most distraught expression you've ever seen him wear. His appearance peaking out from the library couldn't match the astronomical distress he was now experiencing.

Regulus is definitely more important right now...

"Don't worry, my darling," you whisper, embracing him as soon as you seat yourself at his bedside once more, "let mommy handle him. You're going to be alright, I promise. I won't ever let him harm you or your brother," kissing his forehead, you call for Kreacher once more and request that he keep Regulus company while you have a talk with Orion.

"Kreacher will be happy to stand by the young master Regulus," in your peripheral, you see the two share a small smile with Regulus's coming out much more hesitant and shaky. He's such a sweet, brave boy it makes your heart swell with pride but also ache with remorse that he's having to be like this at such a young age.

"I'll be right back, dear," you make sure to give him another kiss on the forehead before leaving. In your periphery, you glimpse Kreacher reaching out to take his young master's hand.

"How dare you speak to my son that way!" you finally burst with rage, pointing an accusatory finger at Orion and poking into his chest with your nail repeatedly, "Threatening him is not the right way to raise him! Leave Regulus out of this! I can't believe you're throwing such a huge tantrum over a school house! You aren't setting a good example! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Orion, despite his bafflement, is quick to talk back with just as much bite and snark, "What in the world are you talking about?! Are you telling me that you're willing to accept that our son was sorted into Gryffindor?!" Orion is shocked at his wife's hypocrisy. There was a mounting urge within him to confront her new attitude, however, the matter of Sirius' sorting was much more urgent for the time being.

"It's a Hogwarts house, Orion, it's not the end of the world," his jaw hits the floor but you simply roll your eyes at him, "Our blood running through his veins is enough. Knowing that he's our son is enough. He should be free to live in the house the sorting hat puts him into — and you should be happy, being sorted into Gryffindor means that Sirius is brave and chivalrous, both are amazing qualities for our son to have!"

"It also means that he'll be spending most of his time around blood traitors and mudbloods who will surely corrupt his mind!" you try not to outwardly cringe at his use of such derogatory terms, and in such a spiteful tone too. This man is so full of hate and menace – it isn't safe to have him around your sons. "I'm making a trip to Hogwarts tomorrow! Whether you accompany me or not will be your choice! I'm sending the letter to Hogwarts tonight!"

He storms back to his office without allowing you the chance to retort or offer your opinion on the decision. His blatant disregard of you and Regulus makes you bristle with rage, you feel like a cat who tensed up in warning. If he bothers you again for the rest of the day, you'll drop-kick his sorry ass. Thankfully, a few deep breaths were good for placating your annoyance — besides, this occasion gave you the perfect opportunity.

"Kreacher," you call in a calm voice. In a heartbeat, your dedicated house elf stands before you, willing to obey. The smile you wear is a complete contrast to what you ask of him and you almost have to keep yourself from snorting in amusement when his eyes make to pop out of their sockets from shock.

"M-mistress be wantin' a s-s-separate room?"

"Yes, Kreacher," it was plain and simple, "Please transfer all my belongings as well. I won't be able to stand sleeping next to such an idiotic husband," Kreacher flinches at the insult as if it was directed at him personally. The wrinkled house elf has never seen the proud patriarch and matriarch of the Black house argue to the point of demanding separate rooms. It was already such an insult for the Mistress to request a sleeping elsewhere that it was almost unnecessary to call the Master an 'idiot' after that point. "But before that, would you mind clearing up Orion's mess in the hall? — Not his office, however, he can clean that disaster up himself,"

"It be best if Kreacher transfers Mistress' room first t-to avoid Master Orion's wrath..." Kreacher only realises what he's said after he'd already spoken the words. He couldn't believe he had felt comfortable enough—impudent enough to suggest doing the tasks differently to how his mistress directed, it goes against how house elves should behave! Before you can react, Kreacher drops to the floor and grovels at your feet incoherently. You're only able to make out the words 'sorry', 'bad elf' and 'punishment' before Kreacher crawls to the hallway bannister and begins aggressively hitting his head against the railing. The awful sound of his head making contact with the bannister makes you gasp and rush forward to stop him, hauling him back by his small shoulders.

"Kreacher stop that!" you plead, worried eyes falling over his forehead as your hand goes up to gently trace the area, "Goodness, there's no need to punish yourself for making a helpful suggestion, Kreacher," you release a breath of relief when you hardly see any lasting damage. Thankfully he was built tougher than steel. Kreacher continues to look at you with widened eyes and parted lips. First, it was his Master Regulus being kind to a lowly elf like himself, and now, it was his Mistress. He's such a blessed elf, he can't help but feel joy from being given such kindness so freely, "I was going to say that it's a good idea and you should do it in the order you feel is best. But now I demand that you rest for an hour, at least, I'll get you some dittany to put on your bump,"

"K-Kreacher will do it, Mistress! Mistress is already being too kind to this unworthy house elf,"

"Unworthy?" you arch a brow and kneel before the elf with a frown, "Kreacher, you have served me and my family well for many years. Regulus thinks of you as his friend and you've been getting along well with Sirius too. You even put up with my idiotic husband," you offer a gentle smile, "even if you weren't those things, everyone deserves rest and to be treated with care when they are hurt. It'll only take a moment, I'm not angry at you—" you move to stand back up and make your way to the potions cupboard downstairs but Kreacher is already shaking his head in protest.

"Mistress is too kind, Kreacher will do it!" he states firmly and disappears with a snap of his fingers. For a moment, he looked a little taller and not so gloomy. The image makes you smile slightly before sighing in defeat — what a stubborn elf you have.

You have Regulus in your arms once again, the two of you sat atop his bed and against the headboard. Thankfully, Orion hasn't been as disruptive after isolating himself in his office and you were able to lift the imperturbable charm from the door.

"You've got nothing to worry about, my love," combing your fingers through your youngest's dark curls, you whisper the assurance into the air. You've notified him of what Orion plans to do the next day and he immediately freezed up again. It was a reaction you anticipated and wished you didn't have to deliver the news at the foresight, but it was always better to be honest. And you're sure you wouldn't be able to hide the news for long, seeing as his father would be taking action by early morning, tomorrow. "Nothing bad will happen to Sirius, I'll make sure of it,"

Regulus still has his face pressed up against the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he clings to your figure for dear life. His worry was evident and, although it was saddening to see, your heart soared knowing of the close bond the brothers had. You won't allow them to have such a horrible falling out in the future, knowing that they care for each other so deeply, "Sirius is so lucky to have such a caring and thoughtful younger brother like you," Regulus sniffles and pulls away to look at you with glassy eyes, his lip slightly wobbly. He feels guilty for basking in your praise and feeling so happy by it when Sirius was in danger. Gently swiping your thumb under his eye, you whisper an alliance, "Let's promise to protect Sirius together tomorrow, okay?"

"We're going to see him?" Regulus couldn't believe his ears. Hope began to wrap around his heart. The feeling was and allowed him to smile once more, blinking away his tears as he did so.

"Your father insists on it,"

"I thought it was only father going,"

You shake your head and smirk deviously, "we're going too~"

For a moment, Regulus really thought Sirius was going to be harmed by their father but, knowing that you plan on accompanying him, was a comfort. And you planned on taking him with you too! Regulus doesn't know what he'd be capable of doing when it came to protecting his older brother but he had full confidence knowing that you would be there with him. The two of you share a smile — a silent union with the same purpose.

"What would you like me to read to you tonight?" you ask ever so softly, a gentle way of diverting the subject matter for the sake of Regulus' bedtime.

"The Wind in the Willows," Regulus immediately answers. It was an enchanting tale and nothing like the stories from 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard'. Muggles were really creative and, although it was bizarre trying to imagine forest creatures living a lot like how humans live, it was enchanting. Regulus was grateful that you were willing to read him books written by muggles — he wouldn't have known how wonderful their stories were, otherwise.

"You really like that story don't you?" you joke, already accio-ing the book into your hands. It was one of your favourites growing up too and you always dreamed of reading it to your future children. Now that you had Regulus and Sirius for sons, they weren't about to be the exception.

Regulus flushes a soft pink beneath his adorable freckles, "it's just so charming,"

Kissing his temple, you smile and open the book to the first chapter, "I understand, darling, you have amazing taste," he looks away when you send him a wink before finally beginning his favourite storybook.

2nd September 1971

Breakfast was just as grand of an affair as the previous night’s extravagant first dinner. Again, the food didn’t have as much loving care put into it nor were its tastes carefully curated for his palette, unlike his mother’s home cooking. However, Sirius was still managing to satiate himself with second helpings. Some students were still dressed in their pyjamas for breakfast, which made perfect sense, considering breakfast was from 7:30 to 8:50 in the morning – getting their stomachs filled was far more important than getting dressed earlier than necessary.

“Have you guys tried the pancakes?” Peter raved through a half-eaten mouthful of said pancakes.

“Oh yeah!” James responds, also with a half-eaten mouthful of pancakes. Remus manages a weak laugh at their display, clearly not a morning person as he sips his tea and slowly butters his toast before reaching for the jam. Sirius and the boys, like many other students, were still dressed in their pyjamas from the night before. Morning announcements were relayed to them by their respective house ghosts, who made brief introductions the night before, after dinner and on the way to their common rooms. It was a good thing too, because Sir Nicholas –the ghost for Gryffindor House– had the horrible habit of showcasing his near-headless-ness as if he was tipping a hat in greeting. It was a fascinating sight but not when everyone was enjoying their meal.

“First years are to spend the first half of today with prefects touring the castle,” the ghostly Nicholas announces, thankfully having the decency to repress his usual urge of tipping his head.

“Thank you, Sir Nicholas,” Remus smiles politely over the rim of his tea cup. The ghost nods in acknowledgement before proceeding to the other first years further down the table.

Breakfast continued with the usual chatter between mouthfuls until a slew of hoots permeated the air and owls swooped through with a flourish. Some delivered newspapers to the teachers at the staff table, but groups carried a stack of parchment to the head of each house table before dispersing. Groups of prefects sorted through their respective house stacks, grabbing piles of each and proceeding to hand them over to the other students. For the names they didn’t seem to recognise, the prefects carefully shouted them out and asked for a raised hand. In due time, the boys received their timetables. First-years were told that today was the only exception to the schedule as they were going to receive a tour of the castle from the prefects, who were being overseen by the head boy and head girl. There were excited whispers between those who were especially eager, about doing their best with the tours so that they may be able to become next year’s head boy or girl.

From all the activity, it seemed that most people were finally beginning to blink away the sleep from their eyes and gain some alertness for the day. Sirius thought most of the activity was done with, however, already loading up his plate for his third helping when another hoot sliced through the air. It was Owletta, Sirius’ owl. When everyone looked up, they saw the elegant barn owl swoop down and gracefully deliver Sirius’ letter along with a small, neatly wrapped box. She was gone as quickly as she had entered, all in a looping ribbon of gold and white feathers.

“A letter already?” James asks, the surprise evident in his wide-eyed and jaw-dropped expression, “It looks like you got a gift too, I’m kinda jealous,” he teases as whispers erupt from the Slytherin table.

Sirius turns his chin over his shoulder, curious about the whispers and immediately meets the smirking gaze of his elder cousin, Bellatrix Black. She’s openly snickering at him and doesn’t break away from his stare. Her eyes are dark and challenging, daring him to open his letter and see what’s inside, eliciting a feeling of dread from deep in Sirius’ stomach. The panic and fear and unease had been building since the previous night’s sorting ceremony. It never seemed to calm despite Sirius’ countless efforts to ignore it. He stares down at his letter and the small gift beside it, both vibrating in his hold, appearing to build towards their timely detonation. But they weren’t going to explode… Sirius realised it was because of his own hands shaking.

Surely his mother was disappointed in him, right? That was what the letter would say…but why a gift?

“Aren’t you going to open them?” Remus prompts as the two other boys look on with piqued interest, Peter disregarding his plate to do so.

Sirius does not answer as he continues to observe his postal deliveries. The letter doesn’t appear to be a howler. Instead of the screaming letters’ signature red envelope, his letter was in a simple off-white envelope — a normal letter. His gift was decorated in matte-black wrapping paper. It was wrapped in such a way that the folds crossed over each other in neat and crisp lines, creating a design that was immediately recognised by James.

“That looks like the gifts I got wrapped when buying stuff in Japan on a family holiday,” James alerts with interest, “but it never came with a plant,”

Sirius pulls out the arrow-shaped plant with it’s stems tucked in the crisp folds. It had many small leaves and a slightly bumpy stem, “what plant is this?”

“It looks like a fern to me,” Remus inputs helpfully.

“I see…” Sirius finds himself staring down at his letter and gift once more. He’s stalling.

“It feels too pretty and neat to unwrap, doesn’t it?” James asks from experience, remembering how he didn’t have the heart to undo the artistry put into wrapping the gift, “I felt that way too but you’ll be missing out on your gift mate. Open it,”

“Yeah! It must be special since you’re getting it so early,” Peter adds, eagerly leaning forward to closely observe what Sirius may unravel. Steeling his nerves, Sirius forces his hands to stop shaking before proceeding to carefully unfold the carefully wrapped gift, on the table the delicate sprig of fern it came with.

Unwrapping the black paper revealed a small, sturdy box that looked as if it held precious jewellery. After a brief moment of pondering what may be inside, Sirius finally lifted the lid and revealed a beautiful red pin, shaped like a shield with gold accents sitting on a black velvet cushion. The metal pin was decorated with a gold, standing lion in the middle. It was a sleek and minimalist design that begged to be picked up and put on. Turning the pin over in his palm, Sirius gasps at the message engraved on the back, his heart racing in his chest as he fights off a beaming smile and the flood of tears threatening to streak down his cheeks in rivers.

‘A Shield To Protect My Brave, Daring And Noble Son’

Above the quote was his name in beautiful cursive and below the quote, in the same elegant handwriting read: ‘Love, Mother’.

Others who observe his state, look on in concern, not knowing what’s happened as Sirius curls in on himself and clutches the pin to his chest with both hands. Worried for their new friend, James, Remus and Peter look at each other with worry. It was Remus who was the first to react, however. The brunette brings up a hand to softly pat Sirius on the back, being the one closest to him in the seating arrangement.

“Did it say something bad?” Peter gently brings up, frightened at the prospect of upsetting his emotional friend by bringing up the subject.

“I don’t think so,” Remus observes and responds in a whisper.

James keeps his focus directly on Sirius, frowning deeply at the sight of his friend’s suddenly much smaller frame, “What’s wrong, Siri?”

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong…” Sirius manages to smile up at them, blinking away the tears and biting his lip in a vain attempt to suppress his beaming smile. Finally seeing his smiling face, his three friends breathed a synchronised sigh of relief.

“Don’t scare us like that, mate,” James laughs weakly and claps him on the shoulder, “we thought something horrible happened,”

Sirius only shakes his head before looking upon his still unopened letter. He thinks he can finally have the courage to open it now. The handwriting belongs to his mother so, with the knowledge that the pin was a gift for his sorting, Sirius concludes that the letter’s contents can only bode the same congratulatory message… right?

When Sirius finally unfolds the letter and reads its contents he begins to cry silently. His vision gets blurred by the river of tears falling from his wide, disbelieving eyes and he has to rapidly blink them away to try and read his letter intelligibly; he has to know that the words on the letter paper are real and that it isn’t an illusion his mind conjured up to cope with the thought of losing his newly loving mother’s affections. Growing concerned, James and Peter cross the table to stand behind Sirius and look over his shaking shoulders to read what the letter says along with Remus.

‘My dearest son, Sirius,’

The letter opened, the tone already loving and so so proud.

‘I have received the wonderful news of your sorting and to say that it brings me such great joy would be an understatement. My beautiful son, sorted into the house of lions, brave and courageous — today, I am given the blessing of being an even prouder mother than I already stand.’

Sirius chokes back a sob and ends up releasing a strangled laugh instead. He could never have anticipated such a letter from his mother. Ever. To read the words on the elegantly decorated parchment felt surreal.

‘In celebration, I have prepared a gift for you. I hope it gives you protection and good fortune. Please wear it with pride, the same way I will happily announce to the world that you are my son and the first son in the Black family to be sorted into Gryffindor house. How special you are! And how lucky I am to be the mother of such a noble and brave son.’

The words make Sirius’ heart clench in an almost painful joy as his chest swells with pride and relief. For a moment, he goes about attaching his pin to his robes but finds that his hands are too shaky and his vision too blurred to be able to do it properly or safely. Disregarding the task altogether, he returns to reading his letter with a defeated laugh.

‘I wish I was there to see you sorted personally. Although, I’m afraid I would have embarrassed you in front of your new friends if that were the case, for I would have been the loudest to cheer in the entire hall,’

Remus, James and Peter chuckle from behind him and over his shoulder when they read about your suspected reaction.

“That would’ve been a sight,” Remus comments with a suppressed chuckle.

“The thing is… I think my mum would have been the exact same,” James adds with a lopsided smirk, showcasing his singular, asymmetrical dimple.

“Y-your mum sounds so different to the rumours…“ Peter whispers almost too silently, making Sirius’ breath hitch. He’s so glad for his mother’s change in demeanour, he can hardly remember the last time she scowled in disappointment or disgust at him — he doesn’t care much for trying to remember such a sight however; his mother’s loving smile is so much more suited to her face and so much easier to remember.

‘Regulus is just as thrilled at the result of your sorting. The both of us are current rivals in the feelings of pride and joy over your destined house. I believe that he’s become especially eager to join you in Gryffindor one day.’

Sirius chuckles at the prospect, laughing through the tears as he imagines his younger brother, soft-hearted and demure but witty and sharp as a knife in, both, knowledge and humour, sorted into Gryffindor. If Regulus were to be sorted in the same house as him, Sirius would happily accept the result with open arms. He loved his brother so much that being able to spend time with him at Hogwarts, in the same house, breathed promises of the most fun times and precious memories he could ever experience.

‘If that were to come true, I’m afraid I’d have my hands full being completely outnumbered by two Gryffindors in the house. You’ll have to excuse this mother’s inexperience but I’ll be happy all the same, so it can’t be too bad of an outcome, can it?’

The good humour makes Sirius giggle to himself, overcome with a dopey enchantment he just can’t seem to shake. His tears have dried up and left behind were a pair of rosy cheeks, glittering silver eyes and a beaming grin. His friends share in his happiness, the loving and prideful words on the paper seeping beneath their skin and influencing their moods as well.

‘Without any further embellishments, all I want you to know, my darling son, is that I am proud of you. And so incredibly happy too. You were always very daring and valiant, you had the heart of a lion without even knowing it. It was an unexpected sorting but I can’t say that I’m too surprised. A mother just knows these things. You are where you belong, I only hope that they treat you well there and that you continue being as audacious and fearless as you’ve always been. I love you, Sirius, please never forget that. Love, Mother’

Sirius tucks the letter back into its envelope sleeve before placing it in the breast pocket of his pyjamas, along with the custom pin, carefully stored back in its cushioned box. He will treasure these two simple items forever. He didn’t believe happiness like this could have ever existed but here he was, experiencing it first-hand. It almost felt too good to be true but when he reads it over and over again as soon as he returns to his dorm room to change into his school robes for the day, the realness of the letter and the gift are reinforced over and over.

“I forgot you’re in a family full of Slytherins,” James comments absentmindedly as he throws on his robes without much care for their alignment. Sirius mirrors the action, the lack of care for his appearance is new but freeing and he enjoys it, guilt-free. “I bet you’re relieved to receive a letter like that, considering what most of your family were sorted into,” Peter is nodding along in the background, flashing Sirius a moderate smile, still finding it hard to act freely in most interactions — it’s nothing that can’t be fixed with some valuable time spent together.

Remus perks up and eyes Sirius with sympathy, “That is a relief then…your mother seems to really love you though,” Sirius nods in confirmation, elated that he can share things about his mother happily like this. It no longer feels right to complain about home negativities nor did he feel as though he could openly disgrace his mother’s name.

He’s spoiled by happiness and love, now, even if it was only for a short period of time. And he’s slowly growing a greed for it. Sirius wants to keep making you happy and knowing that all he has to do is be himself, like he was at the sorting ceremony, allows a grin to spread over his lips in pure joy.

He cannot wait to receive your next letter…

NEXT. | 06 : POTIONEER → | SERIES M.LIST

A/N : what a long chapter that was, but very appropriate for my official come back eh? how was it for you darlings? are you excited? I'm sorry about what happened to reggie and what may happen to sirius but we're going to be there for them so don't worry too much, this is a fix-it-fic after all! hehe~ i hope you're excited for what'll happen next because i certainly am! there's so much i still have planned so i don't think there'll be many slow chapters in the future, I'm just a little worried about my execution -- nevertheless, i'll do my best!

lastly, thank you, everyone, for your support of this series so far! it means so much to me to know that this is being received so well and that more people than i originally thought are enjoying the plot. i was originally going to write a simple imagine/timestamp of this and just leave it at that, but I'm happy my friends encouraged me to turn it into a series. thank you again, my darlings! see you in the next chapter!

please like, comment and reblog to show your support, i'd really appreciate it! property of kquil ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites

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avalordream · 7 months ago

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Prompt: Imagine you get isekaied in Our Life. Only thing is that you wake up as a child and remember everything. You can only save at this point but you can still access the save and load menu and see your previous runs.

Meanwhile your precious neighbor is slowly becoming self aware, getting deja vu with every passing second- as if this has all happened before...

A/N: A few days after I posted this- a few other thoughts came to mind- SO HERE IS MY ATTEMPT AT VOCALIZING THEM

You’re keenly aware of how small and tiny you are the moment you wake up.

For the first few days, you started to acclimate to…the family home.

It wasn’t YOUR family though. It never was. It was MC’s. Not your’s.

You could project all you wanted onto MC but it was never your family or your life to experience. It was theirs.

Even so, you quickly found yourself missing the life you were used to. More specifically:

The cuisine.

It was hard not to draw suspicion to the fact that you were craving different food genres aside from Mom’s Pamela’s mac and cheese and cheeseburgers.

Ma’s Noelani’s Hawaiian food helped quite a bit to hold you over as you started to ponder over how to approach it.

Kind of hard to bring it up to your MC’s parents that you wanted Asian/Middle eastern/Indian/Pakistani/Mexican/etc food when there was none of that for miles around

For the time being, you had to quietly hint and nudge their thoughts into that direction but not enough to make them suspicious. Noelani obviously had her suspicions about Cove getting into the house from Step 2-3 but never brought it up once. From what you could tell, she was scary observant

Another issue was how clumsy your new body was.

Your mind might be able to remember how to do everyday tasks like writing and such but this tiny body didn’t have the muscle memory to match it

Much to Liz’s dismay, you spent quite a bit of your time forcing your hands and legs to train to do things your adult body could do in a snap

Time wise- technology was a huge sucker punch. It made you feel bad for taking your own devices for granted.

That being said, self learning everything was going to be hard without a phone or computer on hand, especially knowing that you’d have to go through the cursed education system all over again- but most likely much harder

There had to be a reason older folk complained about it, right?...

Your MC’s birthday was the same as your own, just that the birth year is 1997. That being said, the current year was 2006… Funny. You were only two in 2006…

…

Back to self learning, you tried to practice what you considered basic math long after everyone had fallen asleep

Usually, your day was filled with entertaining Shiloh and Liz, playing in the park or going along with whatever Liz said. Judging by the giant for sale sign across the street and the date, you figured out that you got isekaied roughly at least a month or two before Cove and Mr. Holden would move in.

Who knew how that would go now that you weren’t subjected to just three choices?

Even after playing around, your body was exhausted and your baby mind was just as pooped out.

The first few days you would wake up early as children do and tried doing your math and remembering as much as you could at that time

Yeah, Liz nearly gave you a heart attack after she barged in and you had to play it off as you scribbling absolute nonsense cause you were bored

After that near collision, you changed your prep time to being at night. Sure, you woke up to Liz shaking you and not getting enough sleep in the morning, but you needed to refresh your memory the best you could

You couldn’t do it every night though and did your best to keep some sort of schedule so you wouldn’t forget - and worry your MC’s moms

They noticed the first few times of how sleepy you’d be when you’d wake up later than usual - granted if Liz didn’t wake you up - and a few nights after, you nearly got caught right in the middle of your review.

Pam was more sneaky than Noelani, so you should’ve seen this coming- but even so, you had everything spread out on your rug when you just barely heard her footsteps come to your MC’s door

You had enough time to shove everything underneath your bed - your room was messy enough but better safe than sorry - and quickly dive under the covers before you heard your door open with the softest of clicks

She was around for a good while before you heard the door close again but you didn’t relax until you were sure her footsteps went back to the master bedroom

After that, you were much more careful about how long you spent studying and when. You haven’t been caught since.

Occasionally, you’d have to sneak in your MC’s parent’s room to grab any books that you needed. Good thing Noelani was a book nerd.

You did have to be careful about your self learning- you didn’t want them getting any suspicions that their kid was suddenly…different out of nowhere.

You had no idea what MC was like as a kid before the events of Our Life so you tried your best to piece together what you could

Speaking of, there were a bunch of things you quickly realized about Our Life, one of which is that game didn’t go over nearly everything that MC went through, let alone before Cove came or others that it only touched on briefly

For example, the tourists that came and went every year happened to be close friends of Pamela’s from her time in university, hence why they were so friendly to you and Liz in particular.

It was also why they knew how to… handle your ever changing moods. At least-

That’s what it looked like to them.

To you- it was because you had to battle MC’s initial responses to these scenarios.

Go figure, this body still had its fair share of emotions inside of it, leaving you to figure out if this sharp pang of fear or worry was your own or not.

It left you second guessing everything you did, especially when you’d be up at night, studying and practicing your writing

It seriously irked you, knowing your writing was sloppy even though you knew this body couldn’t help it. It didn’t make seeing your scrappy writing less frustrating though

Despite how much you tried to hide how YOU felt, not MC, Noelani still picked up on the small shifts in your behavior.

One of these being the irritation you harbored for your writing.

Speaking of emotions, you found your body easily overwhelmed by any stronger ones- your own irritation making you cry- an alien feeling and one that took even you by surprise.

Worse part? The first time happened was in front of Noelani when she tried to help you practice your penmanship

Naturally, she tried to comfort you MC by trying to console you, saying it’d be better with practice and wiping away your tears but no matter how YOU tried, the tears wouldn’t stop flowing

It wasn’t until much later that you realized that MC’s tiny self had their own limits and by pushing those adult feelings and expectations that YOU had onto it sent it into a messy overdrive.

After that, you had learned to slow down- the world wasn’t ending…even if it felt like it.

…

The nail in the coffin for you that made YOU cry. Not MC’s body: Your dreams started to resemble parts of your life.

You’d dream that you were back at your desk job or filling out mundane paperwork but no matter how boring it’d be, it was YOUR life.

The one YOU were used to and familiar with

You’d always feel so relieved to be back where you were supposed to, whether you were happy with that life or not

It was that feeling of having all your choices in your hand and being in control of where you wanted to go, if that made sense.

Nobody made those choices for you except well…you.

Only to have that feeling of familiarity ripped away once you registered Liz waking you up to play while “Ma and Mom snooze the day away!”

…

You just want to go home…

To YOUR home…

-> Next... <-

-> Extras <- ⊹ ‧₊˚ Isekai Self Aware Taglist: @lilqi @annoying-mary @mellozhi ˚₊‧ ⊹

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dolliels · 4 months ago

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I'VE BECOME THE FIANCÉ OF THE VILLAIN?!

leona x gn reader

synopsis: going to bed after reading a horribly self indulgent romance novel, you seemed to wake up as an extra of the series. what stories will unfold while on a mission to find a way out?

author’s note: this is a mini series. no idea if i'll finish it tho.

[one] [two] [three] [four] [epilogue]

the whirring of the fan was the only other sound that you could other than your nail tapping on your phone.

it’s been a full day now and you’ve done nothing except lie on your couch and read a horribly self indulgent novel. the weather was too hot and the chewed up popsicle stick flung around in your mouth.

I’ve become the fiancé of a villain?! was an all-time hit novel, written by an anonymous writer. you’ve heard about it and the plot clearly interested you, but there were only 5 chapters when you discovered it so you let it marinate for a while. today you found out it was completed, so you sat down and spent your entire day reading.

much to your disappointment, the story sucked.

it was about the main character, roselia, who fell asleep in the middle of class and woke up in the middle of a fantasy world that she wrote when she was bored!

leona kingscholar, a jealous second-born son who wanted to be king more than anything, devises a plan to kill his older brother. fortunately, roselia wrote the story so she knew leona like the back of her hand. unfortunately, she was the betrothed fiancé of leona, someone he took advantage of to execute his plan. when she found out about his goal of murdering the king, the fiance tried to warn everyone and leona finds out, killing her. the novel focused on roselia trying her best to not get murdered and falling in love with leona in the process.

it wasn’t like the idea was bad, you’ve read thousands of stories like that before and enjoyed them all. it’s just that this one was incredibly self-indulgent, with leona’s cold, merciless eyes that turn into metaphorical hues of warmth when he sees the girl he used to hate, the girl he was reluctantly betrothed to, the girl who is now the woman of his dreams. (you almost threw up reading that)

how was this novel even popular? with plans to complain about it tomorrow, you passed out on your bed.

birds chirped and you soaked in the warmth of the sun. you felt incredibly gross and dirty that morning, and wanted to freshen up. heading to the bathroom, you tumbled your way to the door (was the floor always this slippery?) as you groggily looked into the mirror, you saw yourself………..? huh? is that you? wait no, you don’t look like that…. what?!

after much looking around, you figured that this wasn’t your body (obviously) but you were you, and the body you were in definitely wasn’t what you remembered looking like the other night. you examined your face carefully, you frowned. what is this? some sort of isekai? it has to be. but that sounds completely unreal! aren’t isekai’s…fake? you felt way too overpowered knowing what an isekai even is in the first place. most leads in these novels don’t know what the word means at all. you felt too advantaged.

what crazy novel were you reading…?

you frowned until an imaginary light bulb popped up.

i’ve become the fiancé of the villain!

does that mean you’re roselia…?

no, that couldn’t be right. roselia woke up in a grand but empty bedroom that she shared with leona. you… woke up in a boring commoner’s room.

you looked around your messy bedroom, trying to gather any hints of who you are and what you do.

after rummaging through the entire house, you concluded three things.

1. you ran a small bookstore. which is honestly a win because you’ve always wanted to run one without financially skinning you alive. you seem to be stable so that’s a pro in your head.

2. you were just some character extra that didn’t matter to the plot.

3. you were assigned to stock up some books for the royal library. the kingscholar royal library.

from reading the novel, you knew leona did nothing but stay in the castle all day. that gives you a glimmer of hope that you’d see roselia.

the things, there are two possibilities as to where the story is going.

the first possibility is that the roselia in this universe is the roselia that you read in the novel. which is more likely, because it is the story that you read.

the second possibility is that this may be the original story and you might be the only person in this whole story that has been isekai’d. which means leona would kill her eventually.

either way, you had a strong feeling that roselia was the key for you to get back home. and that was the only thing that was on your mind right now. and no, you are not going to be like those other leads that just settle for a life in another universe that does not belong to them. you are determined to go back.

on that fateful morning you luckily packed the boxes of books the day before, or any other day, you can’t recall anything in your current self. but the person who held consciousness of this body already packed the books, which means you should be able to just drive your cart to the castle. the castle is huge and you can see from your window. there should be no problem getting the, right?

“…you’re late.”

you huff and puff as you bend your knees. you got lost as to where to go and ended up carrying the boxes of books yourself around the place before finding the area.

“i’m sorry. i got lost.”

“lost? you’re never lost. you’ve been here plenty of times.”

you had no excuse for that. but whatever, you got the job done, right?

the man with neat blue hair clicked his tongue and scratched something off of his paper.

“well?” he said, staring you down.

“well what?”

“aren’t you gonna go bring the books inside?”

oh, right.

you weren’t a huge bookworm, unless you count the copious amounts of isekai novels you’ve read. but looking at the glamorous library, it suddenly made you thirst for all books that exists, even the classics, something you’ve tried to enjoy but struggled to fully digest. hey, don’t blame anyone! thou shall not lie, thou shall not cheat aren’t the best ways to use english in the modern world.

as you stack the books into the shelves, you find yourself browsing through the already existing books, browsing your fingers across the spines, feeling each and every gold brim.

maybe this world isn’t as bad.

you were originally under the assumption that you had to just drop off the books and go, but you soon found out that you’re also responsible for the library archive, not like you needed to keep track anyway.

you sighed and smiled. so a small bookstore wasn’t enough to hold you up financially after all. you ended up getting a side in the royal palace of all places! the pay must be pretty good.

you know… as you think back, you remember roselia coming into the library, attempting to find any other information of escape and accidentally bumping into the book stocker… could that possibly be you?

then that means roselia is bound to bump into you any moment!

as you eagerly keep your eye out for the pretty princess, you take your time putting the books away. there should be no problem how long you take, right?

“hey.”

roselia? no. the voice is gruff, and deep. that… no. roselia is definitely a girl… so that is not the lady you are waiting for.

you turn around.

leona kingscholar.

he’s exactly as he’s described. the novel mentions leona’s good looks so much it was practically shoved in your face. but you felt like the words itself couldn’t properly describe his beauty.

he had the kind of hair that gently parts around his shoulders, comfortably setting itself down on top, a sleek, shiny glow to it that is only prominent and glittery at certain angles of the sun, making you want to stare at his hair alone even more.

his skin was smooth, almost doll-like with little to absolutely no imperfections. it scrunched up perfectly, creating deliberate folds across his face as his eyebrows pursed together, frowning. his emerald-esque eyes staring directly at you. he looked like the kind of guy you’d want to make a good impression to.

unfortunately, you don’t look like you’re doing your job, with a book open and a box full of them that haven’t been organized yet, and your mouth… was agape. it seems like you forgot that you are actually in the universe, looking directly at what you deemed to be the handsomest man you have ever met.

you seemed to thank the skies and above for gracing you with an opportunity to be able to place your eyes on someone so perfect that your brain completely lagged.

you had to remind yourself, leona is not real! and you won’t ever see his kind of beauty anywhere in the real world. he’s a fictional character!

suddenly, you felt like you were pulled back into reality.

oh right, in the novel, leona is actually a huge dick in the novel!

before leona fell in love with roselia, he was demanding, lazy and scheming. he was smart, and used his wits for his own gain (ultimately leading to roselia and his brother’s demise in the original story.)

speaking of, where is roselia?

you distinctly remember that roselia was supposed to bump into you and then afterwards leona walks in on her.

it seemed as if the story was going as planned, but without roselia.

“well?” the same voice caught you alert again, and you remembered that you had to act like a normal person.

“oh. uh. hello…?”

you didn’t know what to say. you spent the entirety of the day before in your world reading about him, his backstory and everything else that talking to him as if he’s a treasure box to be unlocked was surreal.

“hello? hello??” leona scoffed. “first, you’re not doing your job properly, snooping around the royal collection and no etiquette remaining at all.”

you bowed down, trying to look as shameful as possible. there was no hierarchical respect for him lingering at all. you assume this is because you saw him as a fictional character first and foremost.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“psh.” he replied, waving his hand back. “hurry up. I’ll come back later.”

you snickered to yourself as leona walked away. the clacking of his fancy shoes on the glass floors echoing throughout the library. when you snorted, you heard the walking pause then continue again, as if leona heard the laugh but wasn’t bothered enough to say anything.

you sat in your chair, frowning, your elbow propped up against the table under your chin.

it has been nearly a week since you woke up in this world so far, and you haven’t seen roselia anywhere.

of course, roselia being a princess after all, rarely ever left the palace, but in the novel, the new roselia went out and about in many places.

after you were able to catch up to the timeline when leona walked into the library, you tried to follow your memory as much as possible and wasted your time lurking in places roselia should’ve been at.

could this possibly not be the novel you read after all? maybe… this roselia isn’t the roselia you know.

you shake your head. your hopes were diminishing, but it wasn’t like there was no hope at all!

plus, the bookstore you ran had minimal conversations, people would browse through and purchase. this meant you had all the time in the world to try and figure out other alternatives.

cling

the bell of the door clang a few times before quieting down. the array of bookshelves blocked your few from seeing whoever entered, but you could hear the pitter patter of rain hitting the ground outside when the door opened. you hoped they didn’t get anything wet.

“welcome!”

no reply.

you shrugged and went back to scribbling down on your paper.

stomp, stomp, stomp

you looked up. something was oddly out of place.

holding the nearest weapon you had (a paper cutter, ridiculous.) you slowly got out of your seat in between the many shelves of your bookstore.

the paper cutter firmly between your hands, you pointed it out just in case.

“who’s… who’s in here?”

no reply.

stomp, stomp, stomp

“I said… who’s in here?”

no reply, but you heard an annoyed grunt.

BOOM!

just as the thunders outside clashed, you finally reached the last shelf to see a figure entirely hidden by the lightning.

as it died down, you saw the trail of blood on the floor under your soft yellow lights and an injured man who stood right in front of you.

before you could react, the man completely slumped to the ground, giving you an opportunity to safely approach him.

you lifted the familiar locks of chocolatey brown hair to see… leona kingscholar. bloodied, injured and unconscious.

TO BE CONTINUED...

an: lowkey really got into the story rather than the romance... oops. if this fic receives well i'll focus on romance on the next part :)

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fic #twst wonderland #twst x reader #x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #savanaclaw #isekai #isekai au

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clawsoutspotsoff · 2 months ago

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Fanwork Wars: Isekai

if you saw this post without the gif, no you didn't

stills under the cut!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculous art #ml art #art by mirrankei #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #isekai #fanwork wars #fanart wars #isekai au #couldn't decide whose manga specifically #but used the plural apostrophe so likely marc and nathaniel #but maybe kagami is there too who knows

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mixedupmojo · 3 months ago

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Weird isekai idea that I had that I just wanted to realise into the wild.

Ok so you know how there are multiple stories out there about reader getting transported into the world of journey to the west and then ending up tagging along as the pilgrims make their way west. Here's the thing most of the time these story's take place once the group has already been assembled or the reader ends up meeting Tripitaka first.

So here's the thought what if reader meets Wukong before the group has a chance to get together. Let me explain.

So imagine reader has just arrived in a strange new world and they have absolutely no clue where they are or how they got there and are freaking out really badly. So they start calling out to see if there is anyone nearby that can help them and after a good few minutes of wandering around and shouting for help they suddenly get a reply. Relived they rush towards the voice, only to find that the person that was calling to them wasn't a person but a monkey that looks to be trapped within the rock of a mountain. And it only takes them a second to realise that this isn't just any monkey but thee monkey, the monkey king, Sun Wukong himself and somehow they've been transported into the story of journey to the west. Their internal crisis soon gets interrupted as Wukong starts asking if they wouldn't mind helping him out with his situation. Knowing the story not to mention what Wukong's capable of they immediately disagree much to Wukong's outrage. At Wukongs outburst they go to leave but that’s when they realise that they still have no clue where they are and what's worse no idea who could help them except for maybe Tripitaka so they resolve to wait for him much to Wukong confusion. Realising that it might not be a good idea to tell him that they are not exactly from this world they stick with the hopelessly lost excuse. which Wukong responds with that he would be happy to help them out if they let him out which is an obvious no so things quickly devolve into a stale mate.

Days go by and they end up talking a lot, with Wukong casually trying to convince them to take off the seal every now and then and them always refusing. But as the days go by the more anxious and worried reader gets after all they have no idea at what point in the story they are and it could very well be a hundred year before Tripitaka will eventually show up. Food and shelter are also a worry as they've managed to get by due to it being summer and there is plenty to forage and a small cave nearby that they've been using for shelter but they know it won't last forever. but most of all they really, really want to go home they miss their family their friends they miss their life. More time goes by and day by day reader and Wukong bond even more to the point where the monkey king has actually grow quite fond of them and cares quite a lot to the point that he starts helping them out in what little ways he can. He even stops constantly trying to get them to remove the seal on the mountain only occasionally asking every now and then and its usually only after he see them struggling, instead he's taking the time to ask them about themselves and find out more about them and in return he tell them about himself usually stories of his glory days. eventually they come clean about the fact that they are not from this world and how they have no idea how they got here or how to get home, breaking down a bit as Wukong resolves to help in any way he can. Then one day it happens completely unprompted reader suddenly get up and start walking away at first Wukong doesn't think anything of it as they often leave to look for food and other such things but as the hours go by and they've yet to come back Wukong starts to worry think that something bad might have happened to them before he gets the horrible thought that they might have just finally got sick of waiting and left him. Stewing in his thought the monkey king slowly growing more and more enrage and heartbroken at the potential betrayal. when suddenly he can feel it, he can feel the mountain shift and he realise what they have done. It's after another few hours pass that he hears them running down the mountain catching a quick sight of them as they run past him. it doesn't take him long to realise that they are getting a safe distance away and he waits a few more hours before he finally breaks free. Meanwhile your despriatly trying to catch your breath as you watch the entire mountain explode chunks of rock flying in all directions and your barely able to make out a reddish orange blur coming towards you before your enveloped in a bone crushing hug.

Thus beings their own journey to find a way to get reader home.

I dunno I just really like the idea of Guanyin or Tripitaka turning up and Wukong not being there and all of haven freaking out because the monkey king is on the loose and no one has any idea where he is.

#journey to the west #jttw #sun wukong #monkey king #sun wukong x reader #monkey king x reader #my writing #isekai au #not gonna lie part of me would really like to turns this into a fic #but i have way too many wip as is #tripitaka wondering where his first disciple went lol #wukong and reader just causing havoc across china #x reader #reader insert

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angelsdreamm · 5 days ago

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Bound by Fate: The Tyrant’s Reluctant Bride (001)

↳ gojo satoru/reader

short summary: when you encounter a twist of fate by dying in an act of unintended heroism, you awaken as the doomed bride of Gojo Satoru, the tyrannical male lead of a trashy romance novel you once read. Determined to escape your fate, you plan your end—only to discover that the tyrant is obsessively protective, annoyingly clingy, and hiding a curse that might rewrite both your stories.

genre: angst with a happy ending, referenced/implied suicide attempt, temporary character death, enemies to lovers, historical au, 18+

series masterlist ↳ episode two

You ran your palms over the absurdly expensive wedding dress, the silky fabric bunched between your trembling fingers. It didn’t matter how much you smoothed it out; the dress felt foreign and heavy, suffocating even. The layers of lace and embroidery that were supposed to symbolize elegance now felt like a weight dragging you deeper into the nightmare. You glanced around the ornate room, the grandeur of it all only making your chest tighten further. None of this felt real.

Except it was. Every bit of it.

You inhaled sharply, trying to steady yourself, but the breath caught in your throat. Today, you were to marry a man known far and wide as a tyrant. The thought alone made your stomach churn. And worse, you already knew how this story ended. Five months from now, you’d be dead. Not figuratively, not metaphorically—just dead. Slowly, painfully, and irreversibly.

You bit the inside of your cheek. How did it come to this? You weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to be her.

Your life—your real life—had been nothing special. Twenty-eight years as a contract worker, with no family waiting for you and no friends to keep you grounded. When your last job ended, you had finally decided that would be it. Your plans had been straightforward: step out onto the bustling streets of Seoul and fade away quietly. No one would miss you.

But fate had other ideas.

It started with a little girl tugging on your sleeve, her big, scared eyes silently asking for help crossing the street. You hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t thought twice. After all, what was one more minute when you had nothing to lose? But that single act of kindness had turned into chaos. An angry voice, an accusation, a knife—it all blurred together until you were lying on the ground, bleeding out. The girl’s tear-streaked face had been the last thing you saw before the world went dark.

You thought it was over then. It should’ve been over.

But instead of finding peace, you woke up in this gilded cage, surrounded by strangers who acted as if you were made of glass. The realization came quickly, too quickly, and it hit you like a freight train: you’d been thrown into the pages of a trashy romance novel you’d read years ago. A novel so poorly written it was laughable—except you weren’t laughing now.

The name Gojo Satoru had burned itself into your memory long before you arrived. He was the male lead, the man with impossible looks and power to match. He was arrogant, manipulative, and utterly indifferent to anyone who didn’t amuse him. And now, somehow, you were his bride. The woman who, according to the book, would suffer for the crime of being tied to him.

The sound of footsteps outside the door jolted you from your thoughts. A tall man entered, his expression neutral as he gestured for you to follow. “It’s time,” he said simply.

Time. The word echoed in your mind as you stood, your legs feeling like lead. The veil they’d placed over your head made everything blurry, but it couldn’t hide the towering spires of the castle or the overwhelming weight of what awaited you. You trailed behind your escort, your heart pounding as you walked through the grand corridors.

You worked up the nerve to speak, your voice barely audible. “Who am I marrying?”

The man glanced at you over his shoulder, his expression briefly softening into something close to pity. “You’ll see,” he replied.

Before you could press further, a sharp voice echoed down the hall. “Where is she?” The tone was low but commanding, each syllable precise and brimming with impatience. “I’ve been waiting long enough.”

Your breath caught as he came into view. White hair framed a strikingly handsome face, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as they locked onto you. He looked every bit as untouchable as you remembered from the book, but the weight of his presence was far more crushing in real life.

“Well?” he said, his tone clipped but calm. “Are you going to stand there all day?”

You froze. The words you wanted to say caught in your throat, tangled with the growing panic threatening to spill over.

You couldn’t find the words to answer, every nerve in your body screaming at you to run. But you didn’t. Instead, you stood frozen as he reached out, his gloved hand lifting your chin. The veil fluttered back, and for the first time, you saw him fully. He was strikingly handsome in a way that felt almost unreal, but his presence was suffocating, his gaze sharp enough to cut.

“Interesting,” he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They didn’t tell me my bride would be this… intriguing.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze despite the fear clawing at your throat. “Do you always inspect your fiancées like livestock?” you snapped, your voice trembling but defiant.

His smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with something that looked disturbingly like amusement. “Oh, so you do have a tongue,” he said, leaning in just enough to make your pulse race.

You clenched your fists, determined not to let him see how much he rattled you.

"I'm not here to entertain you."

Gojo chuckled, the sound low and unsettling. "We'll see." He turned then, motioning for you to follow as he strode toward the grand doors leading to the chapel. You hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. Every fiber of your being screamed to run, to fight, to do anything but follow. And then an idea struck-a terrible, impulsive idea, but the only one you had.

Her jaw tightened, but she refused to look away, meeting his gaze head-on despite the warning thrumming in his tone. She could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears, a mix of defiance and fear she couldn’t suppress.

He straightened, brushing off his gloved hands as though the conversation were merely a formality. “Now then,” he said lightly, his tone returning to its usual playfulness, “shall we proceed?”

With an almost lazy flick of his hand, Gojo gestured toward the doorway, his commanding presence making the air feel heavier. “Let’s not waste more time,” he said, his tone light but carrying a clear edge of finality. “It’s time for you to fulfill your end of the deal.”

She hesitated, her chin lifting as though to steel herself against the inevitability of it all. But after a moment, she stepped forward, the faint rustle of her dress echoing through the otherwise silent room. The veil felt like a prison over her face, but the weight of Gojo’s presence ahead of her was even more suffocating. She forced herself to match his steady stride, ignoring the tightness in her chest with each step.

The grand hall stretched before them, its opulence somehow amplifying the dread knotting in her stomach. The details of the novel came flooding back, every word now a cruel script she was forced to follow. Five months, she thought bitterly. Five months until death.

Her steps slowed, her mind racing. No. If she was going to survive this, she had to act. The script wasn’t unchangeable—not if she could seize some control.

“You’ll regret this,” she muttered, her voice low but cutting, as much to herself as to him.

Gojo didn’t even glance back, though she caught the faint curve of his smirk. “You’re welcome to try, my dear.”

Her breath caught in her throat. The calm dismissal in his voice lit a spark of frustration. She scoffed without thinking, the sound sharper than she intended. “Or what?” she bit out, her voice louder now. “You’ll kill me? Let me save you the trouble.”

Without hesitation, she turned and stepped toward the open window nearby. The cool air rushed in as her dress flared out behind her, the veil fluttering free from her face. She didn’t glance back. The shock rippled through the room like thunder, and for a split second, she thought she might actually escape—not just the marriage but the story itself.

But before she could tip over the edge, a strong arm encircled her waist, yanking her back with an ease that left her breathless. Gojo’s laughter filled the air, rich and mocking, as though the whole thing had been a performance just for him.

“Dramatic much?” he drawled, his tone laced with amusement as he swung her into his arms like a child. She thrashed against his hold, her fists colliding with his chest, but he didn’t so much as flinch. “If you wanted attention, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask.”

“You—let me go!” she snapped, twisting against him. Her frustration only seemed to amuse him further, the glint in his eyes bordering on predatory.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he replied smoothly, turning on his heel and heading straight for the chapel. “Suguru, fetch another priest. It seems this one won’t last long enough for the ceremony.”

Suguru blinked, momentarily stunned before he sighed and muttered, “Yes, Captain,” disappearing down the hall. Even as his footsteps faded, the bickering between Gojo and his reluctant bride echoed through the space.

When the new priest finally arrived, Gojo’s grip remained firm, as if daring her to make another escape attempt. Her glare was fierce, but the subtle tremble in her form didn’t escape his notice. As the priest began the ceremony, his focus never wavered from her face. She clenched her jaw, refusing to let her fear show, though she couldn’t stop her voice from shaking slightly as she spat out her “I do.”

By the time Suguru returned, a faint red handprint was visible on Gojo’s cheek, though it didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. In fact, the smug satisfaction on his face made it clear he’d enjoyed every second of her rebellion.

Suguru sighed again, watching the new couple leave the chapel. He wasn’t sure what sort of chaos the two would unleash on each other—or the world—but at least his captain looked genuinely entertained for the first time in years. That, he supposed, was a start.

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mayullla · 1 year ago

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Title: An invitation to a chase

Character(s): Childe / Tartaglia (Genshin Impact)

Summary: Isekai au; It wasn't by choice that you dropped into this game. It was slow, but you slowly manage to make a living for yourself in Liyue. This was not a game anymore. Yet at the same time, you could not shake the feeling that this world had its faith already decided so you decided to become someone from the background not knowing you have gained the interest of a certain harbinger.

Warnings/tags: F!reader, yandere themes, mentions of other characters (liyue)

When you woke up you didn't know where you were...

Confused by the tall mountains and the beastly monsters that carried axes, wooden bats and shields, the small circle monsters that looked afraid when they saw you and ran away, you thought that they were familiar but at the same time in a daze unable to properly understand anything.

It was almost like a dream that you waited to wake up but... you never did.

It was with the help of travelers and adventurers passing by that you finally understood where you were. Their clothes hinted at where you were, and the names of places were another one. It was slow, but soon everything clicked together. You were sucked into a game called Genshin Impact, and you don't know how to get back.

Distraught you were after you realize that other than your clothes, you had nothing, nothing that reminded you of home or a way back. It was with the help of kind-hearted adventurers that you were able to get back up.

You knew that you were in Liyue and with the adventurers who found you here heading to Liyue Harbor. It was soon that you parted ways with them after they were sure that you knew your way around and had a place to stay.

You passed by Xinyan and Yunjin in their repetitive stages till you found Yanfei, who helped you get on your feet and make a living for yourself here.

It has been a few months since then, and oftentimes, you wondered if you should have even become friends with the characters that you once knew from behind a screen. If you were allowed to be their friend when you didn't belong here. No matter how kind Xinagling and Gouba were, they would always be a reminder to you that this was a game that you played once.

The NPCs that you helped as a traveler, even playable characters... it was somewhat nerving to see them... detailed, their struggles beside their quests that they gave to the traveler. You used to see only part of their problem before being forced away from them, unable to talk to them anymore besides a few repeating texts.

You wanted to help them, but part of you also thought that you shouldn't. That later on the traveler would come and help them which you thought would be far more appropriate than... you.

It wasn't like you didn't want to help, but in the end, you realized that they didn't ask for it and that you weren't the traveler anymore, and that you were another person altogether at this point. You didn't have the power to make everything okay again.

Instead, you just choose to be in the background, maybe a friend to Yanfei and a few others or just acquaintances for others if you ever bump into them yet faceless in the whole storyline you suspected to start soon.

So when you were out in the mountains gathering herbs, you didn't think you would see a certain person with ginger hair and blue eyes who came all the way from Snezhnaya.

He was the one who noticed you first as you froze like a deer in headlights unable to move when you meet his eyes. It wasn't like he was gonna kill you, you knew that even if he could he would not. But that never changed the fact that to you he was still dangerous.

Meeting him here all of a sudden without any notice made you unable to casually wave at the man who did so instead look away as you took off leaving him alone to wonder if he had done something wrong to a stranger. Did his wave offend you?

You thought you would never see that man again.

Again, you mentally thought it wasn't like you disliked him or anything, as much as you would fawn over or like this character in the past... it has been months since you last played the game, and the characters became all the more real to you even if you didn't want them to be... yet at the same time still just characters.

Yanfei would occasionally visit your home when you realize that she had her own problems other than what the game shows. That her words weren't on repeat, but actual genuine interest.

It made you think about the future choices that have yet to happen when Zhongli would choose to "die" in the ceremony... how much panic and worry would strike the citizens but also you. It also made you think about a certain toy seller who would cause even greater trouble and turbulence. The same man who waved at you.

It wasn't like you could stop him. You didn't have a vision, nor were you strong enough to fight him.

Choosing to stay quiet till everything passed was what you chose to do when everything would finally happen. You already knew that everything would end well one way or another with the help of the traveler.

You didn't expect to see him again in the mountains. This time, he was sitting on the grass as if he had finished training just a few moments ago. With how messy the whole place around him was? No doubt.

Hidden behind the trees, you stared at the man who you thought didn't notice you, carefully taking a step back you plan to leave.

"You know, it was quite rude of you to just go when someone greets you."

You flinched as you glanced back at him, a cheerful smile on his face.

You were caught.

"I am sorry... I was in a hurry back then." You tried to make an excuse, not making a move to go towards the man nor stepping away to make a run for it. It would be too suspicious. Tho... he probably already was suspicious of you.

"Hmmm, I am not so sure about that."

You watched as he sat up still watching you, "While I don't exactly think that you are a spy seeing how concentrated you were in collecting those herbs, you looked like you almost like a rabbit frozen in place as if I have come to bite you." The smile never once went down, but it also never reached his eyes.

"Tell me, have we met before? Your eyes recognized me when you saw me, but I don't remember ever seeing you."

You bite your lip as you look away. Were you really that obvious? You wondered, but you shook your head. "I don't recall ever meeting you in my life. It was because I experienced an… unfortunate event with the fatui that I now choose to just avoid them." You told him... somewhat honestly…

Well, half truth and half lie really… You did experience events from the game that almost made you dislike the fatui when you watch them cause so much trouble. But you also meet a few here, and while most ignore you, some could be rather...

So, really, you aren't wrong. You just hoped that Childe actually buys into the story enough to leave you from now on.

"Hmmm… Is that so. Well, maybe you can tell me who it was, and I will go check?" ...Childe was definitely trying to do something here. "That won't be needed." You said almost harshly. You were nervous.

"Now, now. If they made a mistake and hurt the passerby for no reason, then they are definitely at fault for it and would need punishment." Childe raised his hand, the other on his waist. "That isn't needed." You told him raising your hand as if to stop him, "It was long ago now, and I do not remember the person's face, nor do I care to get some sort of revenge."

Rather than a random fatui, you prefer if someone could knock some sense into the man in front of you. Not that you would say that.

You already packed your bags and were planning to head out as soon as you heard that Monstade was saved by the traveler and head there for a vacation away from the chaos here. You saved some mora just for this reason, too.

"Ahh, alright. Then how about this. How about I hang out with you whenever you go to the mountains? Think of it as an apology from the fatui." Childe said, taking a step closer still with a friendly smile. You lightly bite your tongue, wondering why he was so insistent. There was absolutely nothing special about you to warrant such interest like this. "That would not be needed."

"Well, but had I not come here a moment or two later, you would have already been hurt by the hilichurl camp here," Childe told you, his smile widening almost like a Cheshire cat. Quickly, you looked to his side, and your eyes widened in surprise. Of course, the mess was from a hilichurl camp.

"Don't worry too much about it they are all down. While you gathered herbs, I can clear out the place for you, and if there is a particularly hard place to get to something, I can also help you out." Childe made the deal sweet in his own opinion, yet when he raised his hand for a handshake you looked into his eyes and noticed that he still was suspicious of you, and you knew that if you declined here he would try other means to watch over you.

You frowned at him again, "I already told you that I do not wish assistance from the fatui."

"Hmmm, okay there. I will just be right beside you, not as a protector or anything like that, but more on an accidental meeting." You have been left speechless at how shameless this man was. All the while, he continued to smile as if he didn't say anything wrong.

And as much as you hated it, he kept his promise or whatever you would call it. Whenever you would go to the mountains, he was always there acting as if he was just going to head up too and that the two of you should hang out. Or that time you met him on the way, and he decided to follow you up again when you clearly saw that he was actually going down it. When you change the time you usually go up the mountains thinking you could outmaneuver him... he was there waiting for you.

It was unnerving really how often he followed you, as you would now see him in the market and the streets of Liyue Harbor. "Ah! I didn't expect to meet you here, comrade." Childe would openly greet you while you want nothing more than to look away. You didn't doubt that he had eyes everywhere... he probably placed a spy or two on you if he was actually suspicious of you.

Yet somehow you thought that this was different, that the eyes on you weren't cause you were a spy but something else. Not when you realize that Childe's eyes were always on you, no matter what you do, he was always there...

What did he notice...

It was always amusing watching you search for that moment to scurry away like a mouse whenever the two of you meet. It was something that Childe always took pleasure teasing you with.

You have always been like this except to a way to various degrees even with others but more so with him. There was always a distance between you and the world that he craved to figure out. When he first came to Liyue a few months ago, Childe had seen you a few times walking around the streets. You weren't special well, not at first, while vision holders tend to have their own distinct style. You choose something that blended with the crowd and their fashion.

He didn't really care much, just a moment thought and then to the next topic he had to deal with. But he couldn't help himself but look at you again after he noticed you on the side of the street with some vision holders. You guys were talking for a bit, but Childe noticed that stare you had almost knowing, yet no words of it came out of your mouth.

A few times later, he saw you by chance. You sometimes had this distant look in your eyes as you watched the ships come and leave the docks. Sometimes, it was a cautious look or maybe sometimes impatient, but you were always watchful... waiting. You were always looking for so clues, what he wasn't sure but had as time passed gotten curious.

The first time you saw him, he thought that you would maybe wave back as he raised his hand, yet much to his surprise there was recognition in yoru eyes, and then the next thing you did was run away.

You knew him, even tho he had no remembrance of ever meeting you before he noticed you. There was a certain thrill that beat in his heart when he realized that you knew more than you let on.

And to him, it was an invitation to a chase.

He followed you almost ever you went ever since then, mildly disappointed when his duties call for him as he had to for a short put a cause to the chase. But the more he spent time with you, watching you, he knew that you were definitely hiding something. The knowing look you sometimes give to others when you thought that they were looking, as you withheld information that was just about to reach the tip of your tongue. The look that you gave him, when he talked about certain topics, his trill towards fighting, your eyes told him that you knew something that he never told anyone else other than his close associates.

And to him, it was nothing but trilling. You have become something likened to a prey that he had become found over. Someday, there is this itch of wanting nothing more than to rip you apart to know everything about you, but he cherishes you just enough not to.

It would be sad to destroy you like that, but to be fair, even if he had patience... he could only wait for so long.

Note: It is his special day so loll

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pines-ghosts · 4 months ago

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Type of students 💭✨✨

#timmy turner #cindy vortex #nicktoons unite #my art #jimmy neutron #fop #fairly oddparents #jimmy neutron boy genius #isekai au

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aquasarsstuff · 6 months ago

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Your Choice, Dating sim au

Heartslabyul Route:

Summary: Awakening in a dating simulation, you find yourself immersed in a realm of whimsical fantasy, a stark contrast to the modern world you’re accustomed to. In this alternate universe where you’ve landed, will you navigate towards your fairytale ending or become ensnared in a complex web of deception? The outcome depends on your choice.

A month has passed since you've been whisk away from your home, yet you could still never get accustomed to this new world you were place on. Despite this world matching the sets of historical films and fiction you've read, it has far more advanced technology than your world's pinkie toe, due to the existence of magic. As such a heavy burden was place on your shoulders as one of the children of aristocracy: pretending to have magic. From the hush whispers sent to you by your parents, it was without a doubt that you don't possess magic. Even so, your weekdays are always used to learn more about magic and whatnot to be able to blend with fellow mage.

The setting and the plot of your life screams of familiarity inside your head. It took a few days before it finally click. You were inside one of the dating sim you've played before. There were four main leads or was it the only routes you've only got to finish? You're not sure, but you had all the information you have to survive from your bad ending. You were neither a protagonist nor an antagonist, not even a side character! Just an unseen character use as a bridge to bring romance between the protagonist and love interest in one of the routes.

You brought down the book to your table. Its pages were at least two inch thick, and its width stretches from your wrist to your elbow. You've been staring hollowly at far distance for a few minutes that you didn't notice the discomfort it brings on your skin for putting all of the weight of the book on your lap. You pressed flatly and straighten your outfit. It would not be nice to be seen unkept if there were guest to arrive, invited or not.

What will you do?

Option 1: Get out of the room

Option 2: Escape through the window

Option 3: Stay in the room (Keep reading)

You opted to get a snack, but if one of the servants caught you leaving the room, they might report it to your father, and the last thing you want these days is to get scolded for slacking off. You leaned your back closer to the couch. Its plump cushion being pressed down your weight. The number of materials on the table that is in dire need to be read, rest peacefully. Most of it were still left untouched by you. You did try to read it, for heaven's sake, but its meaning on every page was ancient to you, and it's not because you have a bad reading comprehension. It's due to the fact that you are no magic user. The books were enchanted, but you can't even feel a tinge of its presence under your fingertips, hence you can't make a connection to understand the contents. You can only sigh in frustration and scream internally, otherwise the other people living in the house might think you're getting kidnapped or something.

A boisterous laugh echoed the hall. Finally, the hours of torture will come to an end. You picked the book you were holding earlier and opened it to where you last left it off to create an illusion that you were reading as per orders. The doors to your study room opened in a flash, loud sounds of footsteps hitting the marble floor followed. A man with an orange hair, that reminds you of a carrot you had for breakfast this morning, peek inside the room. A smile as bright as his hair decorated his lips. It was Cater, your personal butler since childhood is what they said, yet you can't find any reason to believe any of those perfect grin. He did get you in trouble for several occasions.

You grip the hard covers of the book firmly in your hand, your nails digging on the thick leather. Something in your mind told you to raise this book to your face, and you did. A click was heard, before he finally stepped out of the doors, a weird gadget in his hand, presumably a camera of some sorts. You gently close the book down, and let it seat on your lap. A particularly large sigh escaped his lips, showing his absolute discontentment.

"What a shame, that shot was so perfect if it only captured your face." He took a glance at the gadget he has, probably looking again at the said photo.

What will you do?

Option 1: Say nothing

Option 2: Be condescending

Option 3: Ask his intentions (Keep reading)

"What are you doing here? Is it the time for dinner?" You still asked him, even though you knew what his arrival meant. What you don't know is why did his obsession for taking pictures was suddenly directed on to you. Nevertheless, this only strengthen your distrust for him. It's probably because of those pictures that he was able to snitch you on to your father. What was his intention? Is it fear? Loyalty? Or something else?

Entering Cater's route: (To be continued)

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More options will come out later. Please tell me if you wish me to continue this au. Writing Cater was honestly just fuels my writer block ahahhaha

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sleep-drunk-kitten · 7 months ago

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𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

pairing: enhypen x fem!reader

genre: crack, fluff, isekai!au, royalty!au

content warnings: slight allusion to suicidal thoughts, swearing, reader is anxious about the possibility of being killed

summary: after dying in a freak accident involving a suspiciously familiar white and blue truck, y/n wakes to find herself in the body of a petty side villain from a romance fantasy novel, doomed to die at the hands of her own fiance.

notes: I'm terrible at summaries but the girlies who get it get it!! This short series is going to be a very lighthearted parody of your typical romance isekai manhwa🤭with all the usual shenanigans and tropes that typically follow! I hope you all enjoy~

I will be making a taglist for this fic, so if you're interested in being added please either drop an ask or let me know in the comments

Everything after the cut IS proofread for once, but please feel free to let me know if any typos slipped through the cracks!

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“Let's go over this one more time,” you say, pacing back and forth, shivering as your feet press into cold marble.

“You said that five rehashes ago babe,” your best friend whines, head lolling over the side of your bed, “I think we get the plot, a bunch of Very Hot men all want you dead because you're sexy and you don't get along with their needy pick me girlfriend.”

“That- well I mean yeah,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “but that's not the point, Sun, the point is that we need to figure out how to make sure I, y'know, don't fucking die?!”

Sunoo groans, his silky black pyjamas blending into your tangled sheets so they cascade around him in an inky puddle when he slides closer to the floor. “The Princess was a bitch, a mean grumpy little thot, just don't be a hoe, avoid the Hot Men, and you should be fine- yah! What's with the face!-”

Expression pressed somewhere between exasperation and disgust, you shake your head at him.

“You've clearly never read an isekai manhwa, you can’t just run away from the plot, it holds onto you like a clingy stalker ex… sometimes as a clingy stalker ex.”

“So? Just… stick with plan Don’t Be A Thot?” he pauses for a moment before a shit eating grin spreads across his face, and you preemptively snag a pillow off the loveseat beside you. “It'll be hard to pretend to be something you're not but I'm sure you can do it!”

And there it is.

With well-practised precision, the embroidered cushion lands squarely in his face.

“This is my life on the line here Kim Sunoo! Could you take it seriously for just two seconds?”

Against your will, your eyes begin to sting with tears, limbs already growing restless in the few moments you've been standing still, fatigue and fear battling under your skin.

You hadn't slept peacefully in over three weeks. Your mind refusing to shut down of its own volition since you'd woken up in the room you now paced in, in the body you now paced in.

For the first four days, you were insane.

Screaming and pleading with a man who claimed to be your father, confused by the sorrow in his eyes and the tenderness in his hands as he prevented you from leaving your room.

Babbling through tears to the maids who filtered in and out, telling them that the title they were calling you by was not your own.

Curled into a corner of a closet, trying and failing to steady your breathing as you slowly came to terms with the fact that this was really happening.

You'd been truck-kun-ed clean out of the life you'd known.

Despair followed.

Hopeless, hollow grief when you realised what your name in this particular world might mean.

Princess y/n l/n.

Spoiled and arrogant daughter of the Duke.

A side villain of little significance set to die for the sake of the female lead.

Set to die.

You'd laughed when it hit you. The one thing you'd wanted more than anything in your previous life was being handed to you on a silver platter. How fortuitous.

It wasn’t until the eighth day, when you'd resigned yourself to your fate, that Sunoo came crashing through the large oak doors that were usually locked to keep you in, raised voices and a stamped of footsteps following behind him.

“SHE'S MY FRIEND I CAN SEE HER WHENEVER THE HELL I WANT,” he’d shouted.

Slamming your doors shut as he turned to face you.

He was the one who'd been running, face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly. But it felt like you were the one catching your breath, heart pounding in your ears.

“Sunoo?...” his name was barely a whisper on your lips.

“(y/n),” relief flooded his features, “you're here.”

He stumbled towards you, pulling you into his chest, body shaking as he held you so tight you could barely breathe.

“You're here you're here you're here-” he babbled, tears soaking through your clothes.

It took a long time to console him, and longer still for you to believe that he was there, puffy face squished between your shaking hands.

You remembered he'd been walking with you when the accident happened, his smiling face frozen in time when the headlights rushed closer. But you'd thought he survived. You didn't imagine for a second that he'd somehow landed in the same world as you.

That he'd be just as annoying in this world as he was in the last.

“Okay okay, I'm sorry,” he says in the present, standing and dragging your blankets with him, “I was trying to lighten things up, you've been stressing about this too much, I’m worried.”

And when he waddles next to you and wraps you in a hug, you know you wouldn't trade his annoying ass for anything. Sunoo was the reason you were trying to find a way to survive this in the first place. Without him, you knew you would've probably gone with the flow of the story, allowing the gallows to take you.

“I'm not stressing.”

“Sweetie, you have a whole conspiracy theory board pinned into what I think is a very valuable painting of your grandfather.”

“Touchè.”

You both turn to look at said board, a mess of string and poorly sketched portraits pinned to a painting of a grumpy looking old man on a white horse. “Remind me again who's who, I think I have the gay prince mixed up with the emo soldier boy.”

You smile, rolling your eyes, knowing full well he has no trouble remembering the character’s you’d told him about at least a dozen times.

“This one,” you say, pointing to an angular stick figure with a crown surrounded by sparkles, “is the crown prince who I'm engaged to because of fuckin’ course.”

Sunoo nods, “Of fuckin’ course.”

“The buff one is the knight I hire to kidnap the female lead when I think his royal highness has a thing for her, except knightey over here has a conscience and thinks the female lead is too pure and sweet to kidnap or whatever and ends up vowing to protect her or something.”

“You'd think someone with a conscience would have the decency to do a job if they had the audacity to take money for it, I mean he had no issue kidnapping a chick before he had the hots for her, that's kinda gross.”

“When you put it like that… anyway, the last two are a priest who wants her for her divine powers blah blah blah and the crown prince's illegitimate little brother.”

“His brother?”

“Yeaaa…”

“There’s other fish in the sea my man…” he says, giving the second crowned stick figure a sympathetic little pat. “So of the lot, who's the biggest threat?”

“My fiance…”

“No matter what we decide to do, you gotta dump the guy right?”

“Yes,” you say, confidence creeping into your voice. “There are a lot of variables, I've read enough of these things to know that 90% of the time they get kinda weird about their fiances when they dump them, but it's gotta be done.”

“Then we start there, the rest of this nonsense can't be figured out till it happens.”

He waves a hand at the other coloured threads linking squares of paper with possible outcomes and scenarios scribbled over them.

“That's true…” you breathe, brows furrowed, eyes darting across the board.

Sunoo’s lips curl into a slight pout when he sees you slipping back into the agitated state he’d been trying to coax you out of for the past fortnight. If he were being completely honest with you, he doesn’t believe in all this isekai nonsense, sure that if you simply avoid the plot you could easily live out your lives as a wealthy nobles without much trouble, but he knows that there isn’t much point in arguing with you. No, the best way to look out for you would be to support you as he’d always done, to have your back in this world the same way he had in the last, even if he thought you were being ridiculous.

With a sigh, Sunoo presses a thumb into the crease between your eyes, distracting you from the painting of your grandfather, holding back a smile at the way your nose scrunches in annoyance.

“Stop worrying,” he says, smoothing over the spot a few times before planting a kiss on your forehead, “whatever happens, we'll handle it together, okay?”

“...Okay,” you breathe, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, arms encircling your waist, the warm pressure of his presence surrounding you comforting. The one constant that had followed you into this life. “Plus, we’re early, aren’t we? The plot of your novel doesn’t start for…”

“Another year,” you sigh, “It all starts in their second year at the royal academy, when the female lead shows up as a transfer from the land they were at war with till a while ago… a show of peace or something once it’s all over.”

“We have time… you’ll be just fine babe, he says. “Plus, you keep worrying about them killing you, but don't they always end up falling in love with the dimension yeeted villainess in those comics?”

You scoff, pulling away. “I highly doubt that's possible Sunoo, I'm not the main villainess, I'm just a random side character.”

“A gorgeous, quick witted, adorable little random side character with an amazing sense of humour and such a big brain that she chooses to use for the dumbest things-”

“Sunoo!” you laugh, plucking another cushion off your couch to throw at him.

There was absolutely no way.

…

Right?

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kquil · 22 days ago

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DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER SEVEN

07 : INVESTIGATIONS

CHPT. SUM. : you investigate the mysterious room you first woke up in while james, sirius and peter investigate where remus disappeared to.

LENGTH : 9.5k

TAGS : reggie baby is too precious ; the making of the marauders ; remus needs a hug ; remus' first transformation ; madam pomfrey is there for him ; madam pomfrey is mother ; reader is also mothering ; no orion because he's being served justice ; kreacher is in on it ; detail on reader's bcakground revealed ; walburga's plotting clues

CONTENT WARNING : dead animal ; impications of animal cruelty/abuse ; cancer diagnosis ; life-altering surgery mentions

← PREV. 06 : POTIONEER | SERIES M.LIST

Hogwarts | 5th September 1971

From very young, Remus has grown a habit of being well-prepared for things, primarily out of necessity and fear. Fear of himself and the necessity to keep others safe from the monster that he was. His parents were adamant in doing everything they could to vanquish the prejudice surrounding lycanthropes and even more determined to erase his views of himself because of his lycanthropy. He is their only son, the light of their world and the most precious being to exist in their lives. Remus will always be grateful for their efforts and unwavering love for him but the situation is bleak. It’s hard to escape the nasty whispers and unsavoury gossip that go around about his kind — not that he wanted to be a werewolf in the first place…

He’s lucky enough to be accepted into the greatest wizarding school in Britain by Albus Dumbledore. Despite knowing of his condition, Remus was allowed to attend Hogwarts on the condition that he be carefully monitored and cared for by the school’s established matron, Madam Pomfrey. The conditions were explicitly stated in a separate letter his parents received atop his letter of acceptance to the prestigious wizarding school. That day was a dream come true, Remus almost felt feverish holding the letter in his hand and reading about all the things he needed for the start of his tuition at Hogwarts. He couldn’t believe his ears when his parents assured his insecurities by stating they received a letter written by Albus Dumbledore himself in the caring for his ‘unique constitution’. The letter clearly stated that Remus was free to use an abandoned shack for his transformations, it was far enough from Hogwarts and Hogsmeade to ensure the safety of students and villagers of the respective areas. Madam Pomfrey was to escort Remus to the shack before every transformation and would be the first to fetch him after, ensuring that he was well taken care of throughout his academic career.

Remus worried that he might break through a window or door but Dumbledore’s clairvoyant nature accounted for that in his letter. It was explained how the shack no longer had any working doors or windows for exit or entry and that the only entrance was via a secret passageway under the whomping willow. That willow was planted to disguise the entrance of the shack and, due to its violent nature, would attack anyone that drew near and disrupt its many branches. The procedure for calming down the tree would be explained by Madam Pomfrey when Remus arrived and would be approaching his first full moon. Everything was taken care of and Remus, in his relief, was free to feel the excitement of every other student invited to attend Hogwarts.

Tonight would be Remus’ first transformation. A Sunday. The timing was poor, it meant that Remus would be missing his first few lessons of the day if the night proved to be especially terrible. Nevertheless, he’ll try his best to push through, the idea of doing catch-up work wasn’t a welcomed one, especially when so early on in the school term. The entire day, he had been especially antsy and quick to temper, unintentionally putting his close group of friends on edge. Every outburst was followed by a quiet but sincere apology and, although Sirius, James and Peter were put off by his strange behaviour, they couldn’t help but worry for their close friend. Their friendship was fairly new but there was already a brotherhood there that was undeniable and hard to suppress. The fact that they shared a dorm room only reinforced the bond between them.

Their concern was obvious and Remus was happy to indulge in it, it fostered a familiar feeling similar to the one brought on by his parents whenever the effects of his condition became particularly unpleasant. And, although it was comforting, Remus made sure to keep his distance. The entire day, Remus was tormented by his conflicting emotions. He was worried about his friends finding out about his condition, worried that his mood swings and irritable nature made the monster that he was obvious. His usually polite mannerisms took on a more brutish design, his movements were rougher, his jaw always ticking about, wanting to gnaw on something, his joints sensitive and tender, building up throughout the day. The unfamiliar environment pinched his nerves and made him highly sensitive, he was scared about any potential mishaps that could happen, many of which, many could occur as it would be his first transformation. He hated days like this but they were his most important days too; he had to be extra careful.

Although James, Sirius and Peter were perfectly justified to snap at Remus for being so ‘unlike himself’ —as Peter put it, a little too lightly Remus would argue— their levels of concern far outshined their frustration over his behaviour. He only hopes that after this is all over, they will be able to forgive him for the personality shift and things can go back to normal without too many questions being asked of him.

Earlier that day, Madam Pomfrey made sure to visit him, pulling him away from the group for a private talk although she kept their hushed conversation within view of many other students.

“How are you feeling so far? Is everything okay?”

“Just normal stuff, I’m fine,” Remus assured but his tense shoulders spoke the truth, exposing his internal worries and growing discomfort. He looks around, only to avoid the curious eyes of other students, especially his dorm mates and close friends. He wonders why their ‘private’ conversation was being done in the eyes of so many other people, when she first approached him for a quick but discreet talk, he expected her to take him someplace private too but that wasn’t the case.

“Honesty takes you a long way, Remus,” she eyes him sternly but there’s a softness to her gaze as well.

“…I don’t feel good. I never feel good,” he bites his lip in an attempt to keep his shaky voice steady and looks to the ground to disguise his watery eyes. His hands clenched into fists at his side, partially disguised by his large woolly jumper — an expression of anger at the unfairness of his state but Pomfrey’s caring hand against his shoulder settled his rage almost immediately.

“I’m very sorry, dear,” they share a brief but understanding look, “I wish you could do more for you but here,” she hands him a small note before promising to meet him for his transformation later that night and leaving with an elegant swish of her matron dress.

It was a purposeful performance, Remus quickly gathered after her leaving, something to show others, especially his close friends, that something medically related was wrong but should remain only between them. It was clever. He carefully tucks away the sick note she had given for him to use as the perfect excuse should Filch catch him in the hall out of bed.

Remus holds that same note like a lifeline while dressed in his pyjamas and piquing the curiosity of his dorm mates. He makes the excuse of feeling ill and insists that he go to the hospital wing alone. He stresses the word when his friends shuffle to the edge of their beds. James and Sirius were strong protestors, blocking his way when he tried to swiftly slip away. Their disagreements delayed his journey, pushing him close to snapping harshly but thanks to Peter’s shy input and hesitant smile, James finally conceded and held Sirius back with him. Finally, Remus could go with a small smile of thanks as James continued to hold Sirius back. Remus continued to hear his friend’s protests even through the door he softly closed shut behind him and began his search for the school matron.

Meeting Madam Pomfrey for the first time was nerve-wracking. Remus had made a point of seeking her out on their first-day tour of Hogwarts. He was nervous and remembered feeling so small under her gaze when he had first introduced himself, all while his friends and classmates remained preoccupied with a brief tour of the hospital wing around him. She knew what he truly was and dreaded the feeling of facing her criticism and repulsion. But he had no reason to be afraid nor so self-deprecating before her; when he looked up from his shoes, he was met with a kind and reassuring smile. There was understanding behind her gentle gaze and a silent promise to take good care of him through the warmth of her hand as she softly petted his head. He hears her soft whisper of assurance: you’re in good hands, dear. That was all he needed, all he needed to trust her. She didn’t judge him, there wasn’t a single drop of animosity or loathing in her eyes and gentle touch. He will remember that day, her acceptance, forever; he believed only his parents had the capacity to care for a monster like him but she refuted that without a single word.

“I am here to make sure you’re well taken care of, Remus,” Pomfrey comments softly as she leads him through an inconspicuous passage, bypassing most of Hogwarts’ stone halls and towering staircases. Regardless, the passage still stretched on forever before Pomfrey was finally leading Remus out onto a hill that housed the isolated cabin. As stated in the letter, it had no windows or doors, all traces of such entrances were boarded up and Remus felt the unsavoury feeling consume the depths of his stomach when comparing the shack to a private jail cell.

“I apologise for its sorry state, Remus” Pomfrey sighs in disappointment, her frown remaining despite his words of assurance. She carefully approaches a knot at the base of the gnarled tree before leading him down another tunnel, one with walls of dirt rather than stone, “I wanted to, at least make it more accommodating for you but to keep suspicions at bay and activity around the shack should be kept to a minimum, Dumbledore insisted that it remains unsightly,”

“It’s okay, really,” Remus musters a small smile and assures her again, unaware of how he makes her heart clench painfully. Such a young boy doesn’t deserve to experience this type of prejudice or mistreatment. She’d much rather patch up miscellaneous injuries from innocent falls and moments of misjudged hazards than treat a sweet, innocent child for such horrific injuries, caused by an affliction he did not want — something hatefully thrust upon him due to bitterness and vengeful desires. Pomfrey was informed of Remus’ situation well before the Hogwarts acceptance letters were sent out and, filled with heartache and sympathy, resolved to care for Remus as if he were her own son. The letter of gratitude she had received from the Lupin parents only fuelled her unwavering will. It was also soon established that she would send letters to them after every full moon reporting on the state of Remus’ conditions, to keep them informed and assured of his wellbeing. They were good people and they had a lovely son. It was horrible what had become of their family due to ignorance and the thirst for vengeance. Lyall Lupin will regret that fateful day until his last breath. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t blame himself for his son’s mistreatment and lycanthropy.

Stepping into the dust-filled shack, Remus takes a moment to look around, shivering at the low temperature of the room before moving to the centre and facing Pomfrey. The matron moves to the fireplace and lights it ablaze with a swift wave of her wand before facing him with a kind smile. However, Remus, seeing the lack of chains casts a worried glance at her.

“Are you sure I won’t be able to hurt anyone in here?” Remus asks before Pomfrey can say much else. And, again, the matron is astounded at the child’s strong character. Despite his condition and the prejudice he faces for it, he worries for others more than himself.

“Professor Dumbledore made sure of that, I promise,” Pomfrey goes up to Remus and kneels before him to get at eye level, “You have nothing to worry for. You are safe,” uncertainty remained in Remus’ gentle, brown eyes and it didn’t leave until Pomfry assured him of everyone’s safety as well, “everyone else will also remain safe,” That was all Remus needed to feel at ease and timidly wave her off as she leaves through the tunnel. Outside the willow comes to life again, swaying against the push of the wind and sensitive to the presence of unwanted strangers.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Screams rang out through the night, horrific and painful, that was what had woken Sirius up. Shaken by the disturbing sound, Sirius clambers out of bed to look out of the dorm room window. Like some sort of haunted picture, the full moon hangs suspended in the night sky, laying claim to its dominance over the vast expanse of space, outshining the stars and ousting all clouds that still linger. It glowed like the many poltergeists that roam Hogwarts’ halls but the moon’s presence was incomparably menacing.

“What is that screaming?” Sirius utters, his grey eyes searching the landscape through his window for some form of explanation.

“I don’t know but Remus still hasn’t returned,” James speaks up from the shadows, nearly making Sirius jump out of his skin.

“W-wait, Remus isn’t back yet?” Peter asks, also slipping out of bed and the three make their way over to their friend’s absent bunk. “Where could he be?”

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out,” James grins and holds up a cloak.

“How is that gonna help us find out where Rem—” Sirius begins, rubbing his eyes from sleep but stutters to a stop when James’ figure disappears beneath the fabric. The eldest Black brother shares a look of surprise with Peter before turning a grin back to James who was now a floating head.

“I like your thinking, James old chap!” Sirius jests and slips beneath the invisibility cloak with him.

“Will we all be able to fit inside?” Peter’s eyes swim with a healthy level of uncertainty, only to be pulled under the cloak despite his protests.

“We’ll fit, just keep in time with my pace and be very very quiet,” James warns and the two nod affirmatively, Sirius being much more enthusiastic compared to Peter’s hesitance.

“I hope we find, Remus soon,” Sirius comments under his breath, pressed against James’ right as Peter staggers along at James’ left.

“I know… with all that screaming outside, I hope he isn’t in any trouble.” The three make their way to the hospital wing but falter at a hallway junction. Which way was the hospital wing again?

“I-I think we should go right,” Peter helpfully stutters after some thought.

“I thought it was left?” Sirius scratches at his head as James gnaws on his inner cheek.

The three collectively decide to go right for the time being and if it’s wrong, they simply turn back and go the other way. Sirius didn’t anticipate having such an adventure through the halls in the middle of the night and, although it was underpinned by their concern for Remus’ whereabouts, he couldn’t help but feel exhilarated by the escapade. It was thrilling to challenge the rules and go against them. Sirius was well aware of this already but it’s remarkably more exhilarating when sharing the experience with other people, people that the young Black had formed a close brotherhood with. It was a bond he was quickly growing attached to. Of course, no one could ever replace Regulus as his real brother but Sirius enjoys not being the older brother for once. He enjoys having friends of the same age and not being weighed down by responsibilities or a pressing urge to protect them. They all stood on level ground, shoulder to shoulder and fuelled with equal trust for the other. Sirius quickly realised that, if he were to get in trouble for their misbehaviour, he wouldn’t mind too much.

“Damn it, I think it was left after all,” James curses and steers all three of them back the way they came.

“S-sorry you guys,” Peter squeaks and Sirius can just about feel the heat of embarrassment from his friend’s face against his shoulder.

“Mistakes happen, no worries, Pete,” James doesn’t seem bothered at all, Sirius and Peter can practically hear him grinning through his words.

“Yeah but, next time, we should go where I say first,” Sirius cheekily comments, getting a light shove from Peter and chuckles lightly.

Their search continues but ends early when they’re caught red handed by Filch. The halls had gotten too dark and doing ‘lumos’ beneath the invisibility cloak was useless so James had to tuck away their only cover to continue forward, only for Filch to round the corner and smirk wickedly at them. It was good night of mischief while it lasted, they just wish they managed to find Remus before getting caught. Their friend remains the prominent concern in their minds.

Filch had taken them straight to Professor McGonagall who now eyes them narrowly. “Why exactly were you three out of bed past curfew?” Filch remains in the far corner of the room, observing the scene and relishing in his deliverance of misery.

“We wanted to know what the screaming was about,” James fibs smoothly, not wanting to out Remus. Sirius nods along beside him after catching onto his friend’s intentions.

“But weren’t we—”

“Just heading back,” Sirius finishes and turns to Peter with wide eyes, pinning him to the spot, “we really didn’t stay out too long, Professor, can’t you let this slide?” Sirius smiles pleadingly but their transfiguration professor is unaffected and swiftly assigns all of them detention. “Filch will take you back to your dorms and you will stay there, understood?”

“Yes, professor,” they say in unison.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Hogwarts | 6th September 1971

It’s the next day and Remus still hasn’t returned. It was not lunch and the trio were beginning to really worry for their friend.

“We need to find Remus. We should skip History of Magic, it isn’t all that important anyway,” James’ words make Sirius wince ever so slightly, remembering your wisdom of the past providing the perfect lessons for a better future — it was an important subject to learn and Sirius had agreed with you.

“B-but what if we get in trouble?”

“Remus is more important than history, Pete,”

“I-I guess—“

“Wait! Look who it is, lads?!” Sirius points and begins to cheer at the sight of Remus hobbling over to their table with a crooked smile. The trio rise from their seats and immediately rush to his side, eying his awkward ambulation but don’t breathe a word.

“What happened to you? Where have you been?” James asks as Peter nods along, still pointedly looking at his hobbling.

“I was feeling sick remember?” Remus shrugs.

“Is that why you’re walking funny?”

“Y-yeah,” they finally sit back down at the table.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Peter begins to shake at the thought of hurting himself the way Remus seems to have done.

“Not really. Madam Pomfrey says it’ll go away through the day,” assured and satisfied with his answer they help him pile up his plate before continuing to eat.

“What have you been doing all morning?” Sirius asks through a mouthful of food.

“Making sure I don’t get behind on work and doing them in the hospital wing,” their jaws drop at his level of studiousness, “yeah, I asked Madam Pomfrey to get the assigned work from classes so I can do them without getting behind,”

“You’re the academic of the group then,” James comments and grins deviously, “hey, can I copy off you in class?”

“Shove off, James,” Remus smiles when James laughs good-naturedly. It was then that the group thought it fun to retell their adventure the night before, all of them grinning when Remus goes bug-eyed at the discovery of James’ invisibility cloak.

“I’m sorry you all got detention,” Remus feels more than guilty. He didn’t realise they would go so far for him and, although it was flattering to know that they would, he felt horrible that it ended in them getting detention. The brunette was surprised, however, when the group easily shrugged it off.

“We’ll be doing it again soon, anyway,” James smirks, shocking everyone but Sirius is soon grinning beside him. Remus laughs in disbelief but feels a weight being lifted off his shoulders — he managed to land himself a really good group of friends here; it’s more than he feels deserves. Peter seems to be the only one nervous about getting in trouble again.

12 Grimmauld Place | 12th September 1971

Today, Orion wasn’t present at the dinner table; his stomach had been too weak to hold much food. Not long after a meal, he’s having to make yet another painful, arduous, karmic trip to the toilet. You, unfortunately, had to reveal the truth to Regulus after having lunch without a trace of his father in sight. You didn’t give much detail about Orion’s condition, just that he was having stomach problems and would be occupying the toilet closest to his home office and to avoid that area at all costs. Your baby flushed a soft pink and immediately moved the topic forward, making you giggle. He’s such an upright gentleman, trying to keep the subject off unsavoury matters, especially over the dinner table. Conversation flows naturally and there are brief pauses where you both focus on your plates, providing the perfect opportunity for your mind to wander.

You can’t find that blasted first room anywhere. You’ve searched the entire house and… nothing. The troubling situation has you scratching your head; how can a room no longer exist? This is a magical world full of witches and wizards so you gather that magic may be responsible for the missing room. It’s probably similar to the Room of Requirement. Now, it was the question of why. Why does a dark, pureblood family need a magic room that can disappear? With a humourless chuckle, you realise you’ve answered your own question. The Blacks are a pureblood elitist family that dabbles in the dark arts, of course, they would have a secret room that can disappear. That’s probably the only room they allow themselves to practice the dark arts in. But why did you wake up in that room specifically?

Lost in thought, you barely register the way Regulus repeatedly calls to you. He’s seated directly to your right at the table so your distracted attention makes him furrow his brows. When you finally snap to attention and look at him with an apologetic smile, his darling features are crumpled into an expression of worry. His concern was sweet and your heart warms at being blessed with such a caring son. He’s truly an angel compared to his biological parents; it’s the world’s greatest mystery why Regulus Black was born to such a reprehensible pair of parents.

“Is everything alright, mother?”

“Right as rain, dear,” he looks spectacle but doesn’t press further, happy to flash you a smile before returning to his dinner. “…I do have a question, however, do you mind helping me with something, please, sweetheart?” perhaps knowing where to look would be better. Both Sirius and Regulus were witnesses to your appearance just before you fainted that day, he’s sure to know the location. Regulus eagerly nods his head, still chewing on his mouthful and not wanting to be rude, “Do you remember the first night I had that horrible fainting spell?”

“Yes, Mother?” he looks guilty remembering the moment he left with Sirius to the library, where they planned on getting through some boring, last-minute homework for their private tutors. They were upset at your dismissive words, claiming you didn’t have sons. It made Sirius snap rudely before stomping away as Regulus scurried behind him, not wanting to face more of his mother’s hurtful disdain. It isn’t until the morning after that they realise you were suffering enough to faint. Sirius stubbornly refuses to admit to his shameful behaviour but Regulus is drowning in guilt. He hopes you don’t look badly on him for that time, Sirius too. The relationship between you was much better now, brighter and warmer, it hurts too much to think of the past and it would be best to only look forward from here.

“Do you remember where I was at that time? I can’t quite remember,” you laugh softly, trying to make the situation appear unimportant, only curious. Regulus answers quietly, too quietly as he stares down at his plate, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that, dear,”

“…you were down the hall from the library…”

“I see,” you nod thoughtfully, mentally committing to that area’s investigation, “thank you, darling,” dinner goes on as usual but there’s a tension in the air you can’t quite shake despite the changing topics of conversation. Regulus was also much quieter. “What’s wrong, love?” you ask softly, setting your cutlery down and focusing all your attention on your downhearted youngest.

“I’m sorry about leaving you there, I-I didn’t know you were hurting, Mother,” he apologises, not expecting you to reach over and lovingly comb your fingers through his hair.

“It’s not your fault, little love,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, “and I don’t blame you for what happened to me,” you angle your head down to smile warmly at him, trying to convey your assurance as much as possible, “besides, I’m all better now. I only have a few fainting spells here and there,” his smile is small as he nods and you both refocus your attention to dinner, the atmosphere gradually losing the earlier tension and becoming light again. Regulus remembers how cold and claustrophobic the house felt at that time, he didn’t feel comfortable thinking back to it; back then, it was a place that was hard to breathe in. He only had Sirius protecting him…

The house is much warmer now that he has you and Sirius. He much prefers the way things are currently. The past should stay in the past.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Later that night, you ask Kreacher for more information. The topic clearly made Regulus uncomfortable and you didn’t want him to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, which is why you didn’t ask any further questions, especially at the dinner table where the atmosphere should be lighter. Hopefully, you can fully dismiss all tensions from dinner when you tuck him into bed later on.

Seated at your desk, you suppress the groans of discomfort that were being conducted through the walls from Orion’s private office — you can’t believe he still hasn’t asked Kreacher for a healing potion. But you suppose it’s fitting that his ego is making him suffer more at this point. You savour the sounds of his pain for only a few moments more before calling for Kreacher yourself.

“Mistress has called for Kreacher?” the hunched house elf immediately asks after appearing before you with a pop. He remains ever-aged and wrinkled but his unruffled demeanour and, somewhat, contented expression certainly make him appear brighter.

“Yes, I was wondering if the house had any secret rooms, perhaps down the hall from the library,” Kreacher gives you a sceptical look, one that was doused with suspicions you immediately set about diffusing, “it seems my fainting spells are getting to me and tampering with my memories,” At this, Kreacher’s expression morphs into worry and he begins to clutch tightly at his ragged clothes while falling into rambles upon rambles of heightening anxiety for your health. It was a rather endearing sight, knowing someone cares so deeply for your well-being, but you think the poor elf might just self-induce a heart attack if you let him continue like this, “It’s okay though Kreacher, I’m okay. Please just tell me about that secret room?”

Kreacher takes a moment to catch his breath and flush away his anxiety before answering, “Ladies of the noble and most ancient house of Black were the only ones, Mistress, they be the only ones allowed into the parlour,”

“Parlour?”

“The private parlour, Mistress, yes,” Kreacher nods, subconsciously flattening the wrinkles of his clothes with his hands, standing a little straighter and subtly puffing out his chest, “the powerful, esteemed ladies like to talk in priiiivateeee,” he drags out the word in a low tone, which spikes your interest and reaffirms your speculation on the room being used for dark purposes.

“Is the doorway down the hall from the library, Kreacher?” he nods weakly, his curious eyes taking in your theorising face. “And you say that only the ladies of house Black have access to it?” Kreacher nods once more and you fear that, perhaps the house may be denying you access as you’re not a true lady of house Black. This is going to be a problem…

“The parlour can only open to the Mistress,” Kreacher affirms but you remain hopeless at it ever opening for you, “and only at a special time, yes — only then,”

“A special time?” you question, dismissing your earlier hopelessness when Kreacher shakes his head, trying to search for the right words.

“The clock face must look a certain way,” so a specific time…

“What time does it open, Kreacher?”

Not knowing the answer, Kreacher seeks refuge behind the sofa of your office’s seating area, “Only Mistresses of Black know, Masters of Black do not! Strangers do not! Kreacher does not! Only Mistresses!” not wanting him to work himself up, you quickly placate his high emotions.

“Thank you, Kreacher,” the house elf freezes in place and looks at you hesitantly but with rounded, hopeful eyes. Though, he almost seems to frown deeper at the sight of your warm smile, “You were very helpful, thank you,” he nods slowly, looking at his feet and silently accepting your gratitude. “You may rest for the evening now. Goodnight Kreacher,” Kreacher nods meekly and hesitates for a moment before disappearing with the same popping sound he had appeared in.

With a sigh of defeat, you collapse into your chair and ruminate over the frustratingly incomplete answers Kreacher had given. In the place of answers grew more questions. It’s getting late already but you don’t think you’ll be able to sleep with all the questions to keep you awake. But then you find your eyes transfixed on the desk calendar Walburga had been maintaining before you arrived. You find it hard to look away from the monthly timetable and eventually begin to reach for it.

Subconsciously, you flick back through the months, needing something to do in order to rest your overactive thoughts. Landing on August, you fondly trace August 1st with your finger. The day you had first arrived and given the blessings that were your two sons. Warm affection blooms in your chest at the thought of your darling boys and the privilege of being their mother. You almost miss the pearlescent ink marking the day ‘Ritual (P - 5 pm)’. The almost transparent words make you freeze up and all thoughts pertaining to the private room, return. They reach out to you from the page in their pearlescent, bold and shaking letters, screaming at you to pay them the utmost attention and to disregard the regular black-ink notations occupying other days. Shakily—you just realised it was your hand that was shaking the calendar—you flip back to July. Almost every day is marked with ‘P - 5 pm’.

What was that disgusting bitch doing?!

‘YOU WORTHLESS, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING MUGGLE!’ Walburga shrieks in her offence, triggering yet another skull-fracturing migraine, ‘YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO GO SEARCHING FOR THE PARLOUR! SOMEONE LIKE YOU IS NOT ALLOWED! I CAN HARDLY BELIEVE YOU WERE ABLE TO SEE THE INK! NOBODY SEES THE INK BUT ME!’

‘Must be some special-ass ink…’ was the last thing you remember thinking before falling into darkness.

12 Grimmauld Place | 13th September 1971

The following day, you awake in your bed and groan at the ceiling’s offending sight. You dread to look at your nightstand, already knowing there’s no escape from the magenta healing potion you would need to take. A slight tilt of your head reveals the phial in your periphery and you resolve to avoid directly looking at the disgusting concoction in hopes of delaying your need to drink it.

As you continue to lay in bed, the weight at your side becomes more and more obvious through the foggy haze obscuring the most conscious parts of your mind. When you finally look down to see the source, your face blooms into a warm smile and you have to keep yourself from cooing aloud. Cuddled up into your side was Regulus. He lay atop the blankets with another blanket to keep him warm. Kreacher must have done that for him after taking you to your room. In a whisper, you call out to the house elf whilst manoeuvring yourself to sit against the headboard. Under the glow of motherly affection, you allow your fingers to gently comb through Regulus’ soft curls. Kreacher was at your side almost instantly and didn’t waste a second to urge the phial of healing potion into your hands.

Shaking your head, you smile at the loyal elf and lean down to whisper your thanks before regretfully taking the potion from his grasp, “Thank you for making sure Regulus was taken care of, Kreacher,” the house elf doesn’t meet your eyes and simply nods at his young master.

“Young master Regulus told me he wasn’t to be sleepin’ in his room with the Mistress being ill. K-Kreacher worries too loud when the Mistress faints…” he shook his head, droopy ears flopping, as he emphasised Regulus’ decision to stay by your side after causing a ruckus.

“He’s such a stubborn child…” you voice with much fondness, eyes glittering as you look at Regulus’ peacefully sleeping form, “What a lucky mother, I am,”

“Mistress must drink her healing potion, now,” Kreacher urges in a slightly shaking voice. You hesitate, “for Kreacher? Please?” at that, you finally drink the potion you hate so much, muttering a vow to never drink something so disgusting again. It was odd to the house elf that you wouldn’t drink the potion for yourself but rather for his sake. He found that if he said those words and followed them with the magic word ‘please’, you would be willing to do even that much. The word ‘please’ wasn’t a spell to make someone do one’s bidding like the ‘Imperius Curse’ but Kreacher finds that the effects of ‘please’ are much more pleasant. He was taught this alongside the two young masters after your great fainting spell and change in demeanour. Kreacher learns a lot of new things from his Mistress every day and he finds that he enjoys it a lot. Unlike his Master Orion…

“Has my husband asked for his healing potion yet, Kreacher?” he shakes his head ‘no’, not really knowing what expression to make. On one end he detests seeing the suffering of his master as it means he’s being a bad house elf by not taking care of him well enough and that was ever house elf’s entire life’s purpose. On the other hand, Kreacher finds that he doesn’t care much for his Master’s suffering, at least, when compared to the Mistress and the two young masters, even Master Sirius. Kreacher finds it easier to be called upon by them rather than the patriarch.

Smiling to yourself, you reiterate a very important point, “When my husband finally does ask, make sure he says ‘please’ before complying, Kreacher. Make him aware of this and that I specifically told you to do as such. My husband needs to learn some manners,” the playful wink you send Kreacher before chuckling to yourself, confirms the house elf’s suspicions but he resolves to do nothing about it. He simply follows the orders of his Mistress, that is how he stays a good house elf after all. “Kreacher, can you fetch my calendar, from my desk please?” like now, Kreacher was away and back with your desk calendar with two snaps of his fingers. He watches you with rounded eyes as you flip to July and show him the blank spaces. “What do you see?”

“It is the month of July, Mistress,” Kreacher answers with some hesitance. It was a simple answer to a simple question.

“Nothing else?” you arch a brow, “No writing?”

“K-Kreacher’s eyes see nothing but blank days, Mistress,” Kreacher anticipates being hit for the first time in months when you reach out your hand and he shuts his eyes tightly in anticipation, shrinking into himself. But you don’t hit him. Instead, he feels a soft caress atop his head and his ears wiggle in delight. This was a nice feeling, “That’ll do, Kreacher. Thank you,” of course, his mistress wouldn’t hit him, he’s a good house elf! At your side, Regulus begins to stir and you quickly ask the house elf for a small favour, “Can you please make us some breakfast in bed, Kreacher? One for Regulus and one for me. Make it a yummy treat for my son, pancakes with cut up fruit and a glass of milk. I’ll have a Full English…” you pondered to yourself for a moment before asking that he make the portions big, “so we can share with each other,” Kreacher nods and vanishes to make the best breakfast he can, following your instructions for him to the letter and remembering the way you prepared breakfasts without magic.

Regulus slowly wakes to the comforting, familiar feeling of you gently stroking his head and combing your fingers through his hair. Peeking up at you, he smiles in relief at your kind eyes and warm expression. Even though he fell asleep from worry, waking up to his beautiful, kind mother like this made it all worthwhile. With a relieved whisper of ‘mother…’, he launches himself into your embrace and hugs you close, arms locked around your neck. The way your arms locked around his body gave him a feeling of completeness he didn’t want to let go of.

“I was worried you wouldn’t ever wake up, Mother! You haven’t had this bad of a fainting spell since that first time!”

“Never,” you whisper comfortingly into his ear, “I would never leave you like that, I love you too much,” your words have Regulus beaming brightly.

“I love you too, Mother! I was so worried last night. You didn’t come to tuck me in so I snuck out of bed to check on you but Kreacher told me you no longer slept with Father and redirected me to your new room…” he bit his lip, not wanting to recount the paralysing panic he felt at the sight of your motionless form in bed. He had never seen a person look so still and it frightened him that that person was you.

“I’m sorry I worried you so much,” Regulus nuzzles his small face into your neck for comfort and his muffled voice can only be heard because he was so close to your ear.

“It’s okay… you’re all better now, right? That’s what matters most,”

“You’re right,” smiling softly, thoroughly warmhearted by his sweet words, you press a kiss to the side of his head, “Thank you for taking care of me while I wasn’t feeling well,” again, he muffles his response into your neck, unwilling to break away from your embrace.

“You’re welcome,”

“I have Kreacher preparing breakfast for us so we can stay in bed this morning,” at that, he lifts his face from your shoulder to smile brightly at you.

“Really?”

“Really really,” you nuzzle his nose with your own, you’re going to savour the privileges of being a mother before either of your two boys become rebellious, loud and angsty teenagers, “We have as long as it takes for him to make breakfast to snuggle in bed,”

As you cuddle in bed together, Regulus softly asks to be told a good story, not only to pass the time but to distract him from his worrying thoughts. He doesn’t like the potential implications of you experiencing a similarly concerning fainting spell to the first one you had suffered that fateful night. He doesn’t want you to be sick all the time. He only has one mother and you’re perfect now, he doesn’t want you leaving when he just got you…

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Breakfast in bed is a treat and you were happy to share it with your darling youngest. He had such good manners, even when having breakfast in bed. As requested, Kreacher prepared pancakes and cut fruit for Regulus and a Full English for you.

“Wow! Thank you Kraecher,” Regulus smiles at the house elf who shyly returns the kind expression, “The portions are really big too,”

“So we can have a bit of each other’s if we fancy,” you wink and Regulus giggles with a nod, immediately handing over a pancake from his plate.

The two of you spent an hour eating breakfast in bed, talking about nonsense. It was a moment you would treasure forever, you would remember the way Regulus’ eyes light up from the fluffiness of the pancakes and the way his smile never left his lips from the happiness he was experiencing while lost in the moment.

Once breakfast was over, the two of you walked to the kitchen and decided to tidy up, happy to extend your time spent together. You would wash up while Regulus would dry and you would help each other put the dishes and cutlery away. Kreacher almost has a heart attack at the sight of you but his concern only made you both giggle.

“Mistress is doing Kreacher’s job! Not allowed! Not allowed!” the poor house elf chants, tugging at his ears, staring at the scene with disbelieving, watery eyes, “Youngest master is not allowed to!”

“Don’t be so dramatic Kreacher,” you flash him a kind smile as Regulus giggles beside you and looks over his shoulder to smile kindly at Kreacher as well, “we want to do this as a ‘thank you’,” Kreacher is visibly unable to comprehend your words — he still has a long way to go when it comes to things like this.

“It’s to thank you for making such a yummy breakfast for us,” Regulus adds with a small nod of kind acknowledgement. For a moment, Kreacher appears to silently accept the gesture but just as you and Regulus share a smile, Kreacher rushes forward with the same flurry of panic. He doesn’t accept the gesture at all.

“No! No no no! Not allowed!” But Kreacher is unable to get past you or Regulus and goes to slam his head against the wall nearby only to be stopped by you. Patiently, you press his face into the folds of your skirt and that is where your poor house elf stays, muffling his soft whimpers and clinging onto your dress for comfort as you softly whisper for him to calm himself, assuring that he’s still a good elf and worthy of serving House Black. Regulus smiles appreciatively up at you and finishes off drying the plates so you can both put them away.

“Will Father be joining us for dinner tonight? I’ve hardly seen him as of late, surely he’s feeling better now,” Regulus comments after Kreacher finally leaves, assured by the small task you had given him to dust the Library.

“Oh…” you avoid his eyes to keep him from seeing the devious smirk tugging at the edges of your lips, “he’s still feeling a little under the weather, my darling,” Regulus observes you curiously, his interest piqued at the fact that you don’t meet his eyes and there’s a sneaky smile hidden behind your fingers. “His stomachache is persistent so he’s been sequestering himself in his room and his diet remains to only be soup and bread — something light but nutritious so he can sustain himself,” Kneeling before Regulus, you meet his curious eyes warmly, “please don’t worry, darling, your father is going to be okay…”

Regulus nods, accepting your explanation. “I hope father gets better soon,” Even though his father was horrible to him, Regulus is still so incredibly kind and his words make your heart swell with pride.

Cooing at his angelic image, you bring him into your arms and kiss his forehead, “How can a child be so precious? You’re so very kind Regulus, your father doesn’t deserve it after what he’s done to you,”

Pink in the cheeks, Regulus shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s okay…everyone deserves kindness, right Mother?” his words were from one of the last lessons you had given the brothers before Sirius had to leave for his first year and now, although Orion is the least deserving person, you’re still so proud of your baby for remembering your wisdom.

Regulus kept you company in your office as you waited for the grandfather clock to strike five in the afternoon. His lesson with Peony had already finished and he had just gotten done with consolidating his learning in the library. You had some letters to reply to as the Matriarch of the noble and most ancient house of Black while Regulus was eagerly writing his letter for Sirius. He was excited to use the colour-changing ink you had bought them during Sirius’ first-year shopping spree.

Replying to so many letters was getting tiring and your wrist was beginning to ache. You shouldn’t have procrastinated on responding. Hopefully, there was a spell you could do on the quill to make this easier, perhaps make it write as you spoke, the same way Rita Skeeter did.

The frequency of your sighs increased through the labour of writing but all you needed to do was look up and see the diligence of your youngest son writing his letter to feel re-energised again. Smiling to yourself, you savour his innocent image a moment longer before opening the next letter in the pile. The penmanship was rather rough and scratchy, leaning towards print rather than cursive, it was a breath of fresh air from the swirling, loopy handwriting of all the other letters you’ve had to read and reply to.

Opening the letter, you begin to read dismissively but your eagerness spikes when your wandering eyes glimpse the signed name at the bottom: Alphard Black.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Regulus reads his letter again and nods in satisfaction. This was his third draft of it but he felt his efforts to be worthwhile. Letters were a special occasion and something that made a person feel immediately special when they read a letter that’s addressed specifically to them so he wanted to put in a good effort for Sirius. He just hopes it reaches him in good time.

“Mother,” Regulus stands with his letter in hand, ready for postage, “my letter is finished, may I deliver it to Sirius now, please?”

You smile warmly and nod, slipping Alphard’s letter into the main drawer of your desk. With a small wave of your hand, you gesture him over to you, “Would you like to give it a wax seal?”

Regulus’ eyes sparkled with excitement, “I’m allowed?”

“Of course, little love, come here,” you pull him into your lap and gesture to the apparatus around you to create a wax seal. “First, pick out the coloured wax you want for your seal,” Regulus picks metallic silver wax, a perfect choice for the black envelope he was sending it in, a signature of the Black Family. “Now you put it in this little spoon and melt it over the candle,” with an eager nod, Regulus holds the spoon over the candlelight and the two of you wait for it to melt together.

“I think it’s melted now, Mother,”

“Let me see…” he shows you, swirling around the liquid wax to demonstrate its fluidity and grins at your approving nod, “good good. Get the seal ready,” he diligently takes the Black Family seal in his other hand, “now, when you stamp the wax, don’t wiggle it around or else the design will get muddled,” Regulus gives an affirming nod and waits for your instruction to pour the wax before stamping it. He doesn’t wiggle it as you’ve advised. After a few moments, you whisper that it was finally okay for him to take away the stamp and he gasps in delight at the beautiful seal that was left behind.

“Thank you, Mother!”

“Would you like to post it or ask Kreacher to post it for you?”

“I’d like to post it please,” his request pulls you away from your desk, just in time as it was nearing 5 pm already. You patiently lead him to the family owl and watch with a smile as he hands over his letter and waves off the owl with a cheer. “Sirius is going to love the letter, darling,”

“I hope he sends one back soon!”

“I don’t doubt that he will,”

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

You’ve stationed yourself down the hall from the library. The same location where you had first fainted after falling into the world according the Regulus who was practising the piano in the reception room downstairs. Hearing his piano melodies travelling through the walls and floating up the stairs made you awe at how talented he is. The repeated melodies comforted your racing heart and eased the ache in your head as you waited in anticipation for the afternoon to finally reach five o’clock. There was nothing to go off of when you set about searching for this magically disappearing room. Kreacher described it as a private parlour where only the mistresses and ladies of the Black family could congregate to discuss confidential particulars.

Only for the women…

It was a comforting thought, somewhat, that there was a sisterhood amongst the family. It makes you wonder how long the tradition has been taking place. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely for ill-intentioned meetings for dark magic. The optimistic part of you imagines the women of the Black family aching for a private room away from the men in their lives just to share a cup of tea and relax. Maybe meetings were held in contented silence, relishing in the calm and savouring the safety of the cliquish room.

tick…tock…tick…tock…CLANG!

The grandfather clock gives a discordant chime down the hall at the lower floor and your heart spikes once again. You spin on your heel and face the dark, elegantly embellished wallpaper of the house. For a moment your brows furrow in confusion and disappointment when nothing happens, even when the grandfather clock finishes its chime and begins ticking normally again.

Tick…tock…tick…tock…

You’re about to turn away in disappointment when a black door begins to appear on the wall before you. It rises from the floor as if answering a call to reveal itself by the grandfather clock’s afternoon chimes. The black wood it’s composed of shines like a black pearl as its glass components are decorated with iron embellishments that swirl over it in a symmetrical pattern. They keep the interior entirely secret. Once fully revealed, you awe at the grand entrance; it’s arched at the top and rather than a singular door, its double doors that open at the centre, pulled apart by swirling, gold doorknobs that appear recently polished. Only the best for the ladies and mistresses of the Black family, the noble and most ancient house.

You don’t have the time to tame your thundering heart and grab at the gold handles before the door can disappear again. At the simple touch of your hand, a faint click meets your ears. It’s very reminiscent of a key turning in a lock and allows you to pull the double doors apart. As it was when you first arrived in this world, the room is pitch black and you have to squint in the darkness, blinking as your eyes adjust to the shadow-veiled environment. Thankfully, the light from the hallway manages to seem through from behind you as your silhouette stretches across the room’s expanse. You’re about to take a step forward when a pungent smell meets your nose and you sharply draw back with a hand over your mouth and nose. Eyes wide and finally adjusted to the darkness, you take in the various elements of the room as your panic gradually rises inside you, your mind racing.

There appears to be a seating area for the prim conversations you had once imagined but the furniture was pushed away from its place at the centre of the room and the accompanying coffee table appears to have been thrown about, kept on its side on the far side of the room. In the corner, there’s a lady Chippendale English-style writing desk with its chair thrown down. Its desk space is cluttered, piled high with books with one at the centre, its aged pages ripped out and flung across the room. Brass artisan wall lights fitted with candles remain unlit on either side of a smashed mirror, victim to a fallen, heavy book below it, surrounded by its shattered remains. Black-out curtains that drape to the floor block out a window on the far end of the room, shielding the world from the parlour’s internal happenings. Two glass jars occupy the centre of the room, identically filled with unknown elements that cast the same dark silhouette within it. They’re stained with a mysterious liquid you were too scared to investigate further but the sight wasn’t as frightening as the avian-esque carcass rotting into the carpet at the centre of the room. The sight makes you choke and cough, realising the source of the sickening scent in the musty air. There’s an array of feathers that surround the skeletal remains and not too far from it is a knocked-over bird cage. It looks generic and indistinguishable from the one Sirius’ owl came it.

Your racing mind flashes back to the interaction you shared with the shopkeeper at the Owlery for Sirius’ first-year Hogwarts shopping.

“What happened to the last owl you purchased?” the shopkeeper asks suddenly, finally finished with preparing all the items and eying you warily. You feel Sirius and Regulus’ eyes on you from his question as well and hurry to make an excuse. This situation has grown very uncomfortable.

“Last owl?”

“Yes, the screech owl, from last week,”

Was this… was this the fate of that same owl?…

Unable to tolerate looking into the room further, you slam the double doors shut and collapse backwards into the railing beside the stairs. Your shaky hands grip the rails and try your best to keep your stomach still — you’re not going to be throwing up on the hallway carpet.

“YOU FILTHY, CHEATING MUDBOOLD!!!” Walburga screeches loud enough for you to feel the ache at the forefront of your brain and the tender spots of your ears. Not this bitch again… “HOW DID YOU GET THE PARLOUR DOORS TO REVEAL ITSELF AND OPEN?! IT ONLY OPENS TO ME!”

“Not anymore…” you snipe weakly, as an overwhelming migraine floods through your head. She must be really angry at you. “K-Kreacher,” you call weakly but are too occupied with clutching your head, trying to suppress the pain, to hear the faint pop of your loyal hope elf appearing at your side. He’s panicked and doesn’t know what to do with himself as he calls to you frantically. Quickly, he realises you’re unable to even hear him, spiking his panic all over again.

“YOU ARE NOT A TRUE MISTRESS OF THE BLACK FAMILY! YOU ARE NOT A BLACK FAMILY LADY! DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT TOUCHING THAT BLASTED RITUAL OR THOSE CONFOUNDED BOOKS!”

There’s a knocking at your temples that gets harder and harder to ignore atop Walburga’s grating, pic-squealing caterwauls. It rises in volume above your hammering heartbeat and feels like an intruder trying to smash their way into your door. It’s invasive and makes you cry aloud from the tormenting pain — it’s almost as harrowing as your first arrival here. Memories of your past life flash before your eyes like an old-fashioned image projector, torturing you with snapshots of your most heart-aching moments: your ovarian cancer diagnosis, the surgery, your depressive state, and your husband leaving. But then it captures you beating the odds and rising from the ashes, you made something from the remains of your old life’s trajectory, successfully creating an economic empire and practising philanthropy for many other women who had to face the same devastating diagnosis as you. It all ends with an image of a heavy truck barrelling straight towards you and then you’re consumed by darkness.

navi. | series masterlist | next. 08 : ... →

A/N: back to the below 10k chapters haha! i'm thinking of going back to proofread and edit this chapter again in the future since i don't feel like I've properly done it this time because of some personal things going on. nevertheless, i hope you darlings enjoyed this chapter! thank you always for all the love and support, this series has been able to grow so much thanks to you darlings x

#sirius black #regulus black #remus lupin #james potter #peter pettigrew #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fix it fic #marauders era #reader insert #mother reader #isekai au #walburga black #orion black #divorcing orion black series #the black family #the black brothers #sirius and regulus

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avalordream · 4 months ago

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Part 2: Imagine you get isekaied in Our Life. Only thing is that you wake up as a child and remember everything. You can only save at this point but you can still access the save and load menu and see your previous runs.

Meanwhile your precious neighbor is slowly becoming self aware, getting deja vu with every passing second- as if this has all happened before...

A/N: This took way longer than I thought it would but I hope you enjoy!

Nothing was without consequence

Noelani knew something was off with MC…

For all she knew, something was wrong with her child and she didn’t know what to do

True, MC looked and acted mostly the same

But the look in their eyes…

No kid suddenly just looked so…lost

They visibly looked hopeless and upset…

She didn’t know what to do..

Noelani went on numerous doctor’s visits with Pam but they all said the same thing-

Her kid was just going through an episode or a mood shift and that it was completely normal.

To every single one, they ran standard procedures and MC acted… completely after the second or third.

The first appointment they went to, MC was confused but they were honest about their answers.

After that? Noelani had a feeling they either caught on or didn’t want to bother anyone - smart as that was for an eight year old

She saw through each front, painstakingly held up by the impression they set on that first initial appointment

It was fake.

But you wouldn’t know that unless you spent 24 hours a day with the kid.

Noelani didn’t know what to do…

She already tried asking MC if they were ok but she wasn’t blind.

She loved MC and Elizabeth fiercely - attuned to their little habits - and as was Pam.

So she knew as well as Pam that they tended to share some blunt wisdom / tell a few white lies / spin quite the tall tales.

Yet they giggled, saying “Ma! You’re so funny! But I’m ok! Really!” / pat her arm, thinking for a moment before saying “I’m ok Ma. I just… feel a lil’ different. That’s all.” / paused before wrapping their arms around her middle with a small nuzzle. “I’m… not feeling too good. But I’ll get better soon. Promise.”

The exact opposite than usual…

No matter how comforting they tried to be, MC’s words were oddly unsettling…

It was so… out of character for them.

The doctors had assured both of them that kids tend to have some mood swings now and then and that it was completely normal. Perfect even.

Even so, she could see it affecting Elizabeth as well.

She would often come barrelling down to herself or Pam whenever MC would shut themselves in their room…

“Ma!! MC doesn’t want to play with me! They said they’re too tired!”

“Mooms!! MC said that they don’t want to play dolls with me and that dolls are for babies! We played dolls YESTERDAY!!”

“Mooom! MC’s not leaving their room! And-! And!! They said they don’t feel like playing with me and Shiloh at the park!”

More frustratingly, at least for a time, was when Pamela tried to console her, seemingly taking on the side of the doctors, insisting she relax

“Kids go through mood swings! It’s normal! Don’t worry ‘Lani!”

“The docs said they were ok, right? Then it’s settled!”

“Don’t fret, Noelani! The kid’ll go back to normal in no time!”

Sometimes it felt like Pam was just saying those things to comfort her…as if she didn’t believe her.

In retrospect, she knew her wife meant well but in the moment?

It felt like the world had pitted her favorite person against her.

It felt personal.

For some time, it caused some friction between the pair.

Friction that didn’t go unnoticed by neither Elizabeth, nor MC.

Elizabeth was more outspoken on her worry, although she acted like nothing was wrong on the outside.

MC…acted as if nothing was wrong but…she saw the worried glances and sneaky looks of concern from them when they thought nobody was looking

If she wasn’t…as…observant as she was…she would’ve assumed they were just acting aloof.

Slowly, she began to see herself against the world- beginning to question her very position

Why was not a single person helping her?

Didn’t they see how startlingly different her kid had become?

Even their college friends didn’t see a difference….

Surely, there was a reason everyone but her was noticing…

Was she really… overreacting?

Eventually, she stopped bringing it up altogether, although the underlying tension remained for some time.

“Noelaniiii! You still here with us?”

Her head jerked up as she registered the faces of college friends in front of her, unfocused for a moment as her vision cleared to check in the finer details.

“Ah- No, I apologize- What were we talking about?”

Their college friends were nearing the end of their trip and this was the last of many hangouts. At least for the time being.

After this, it was time for their flight back home so Pam decided to hire a babysitter to watch the kids so they could come.

“Well, it’s alright. We just noticed the house in front has just been sold!”

“Oooh! That’s right! Apparently, it was previously owned by a family a state away! Their home away from home!”

“Aww! That must be nice!”, Noelani hummed, envying this mystery family for a moment. How nice would that be? If she could have a home away from home, she’d have one in Hawaii… The kids’ grandparents just moved back too…

“Right?? I wonder who’s moving in though?”

“Ditto! Guess we’ll just have to see!”, Pam chuckled, smile bright as their friends gave their opinions on what the new neighbor would be like.

Recently, the couple had reached a truce.

Truthfully, they both wanted the best for their children.

Noelani agreed to try to not worry herself into stressing about them- if this was how she worried about them now, how was she going to live when they were teenagers?, Pam reasoned.

Meanwhile, Pam agreed to be a bit more mindful if any worries were brought up and not to be as dismissive.

Easy to say but...she was glad they were talking again, smile brighter as she felt Pam's fingers intertwine with her own.

Their voices drifted in and out of Noelani’s ears as she sipped on her lemonade with a giggle of her own.

Life ebbs and flows like the sea…That’s the beautiful thing about it…

It changes just a little everyday.

The best we can do, Lani thought to herself, is adapt and go with the flow.

Only time will tell...

And just like that… summer started.

-> Next... <-

-> Previous... <-

-> Extras <-

⊹ ‧₊˚ Isekai Self Aware Taglist: @lilqi @annoying-mary @mellozhi ˚₊‧ ⊹

A/N.2: And just like that, we're finally starting this properly! Just letting ya'll know now, I am in college and thus, future updates might be delayed! I don't have a set schedule to write and stuff and I tend to do it when motivation hits. I liked trying to see what Noelani's thought process would be in this scenario and by GOD- It was HARD. But! I did my best! Aaaand, I don't think it turned out too bad! Again, I hope you enjoyed! :D

#our life beginning and always #our life #olba #isekai au #self aware au #Isekai AU #Self Aware AU #olba cove james holden #olba cove holden #olba cove #olba mc #cove james holden x mc #cove holden x mc #cove x mc #cove james holden x reader #cove holden x reader #cove x reader #self aware cove x mc #self aware cove x reader

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dolliels · 4 months ago

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I’VE BECOME THE FIANCÉ OF THE VILLAIN?! pt4

synopsis: going to bed after reading a horribly self indulgent romance novel, you seemed to wake up as an extra of the series. what stories will unfold while on a mission to find a way out?

author’s note: freaky ass chapter lol

[one] [two] [three] [four] [epilogue]

"why do you come over so often?" you asked leaning back against your couch.

leona was comfortably resting his head on your thighs. "you said you liked your house better than the palace." he replied.

"ohhh so that's what the question was for." you said to yourself out loud. leona just grunted and leaned in closer.

it had been about a week since what you would call 'the incident.' (the kiss. don't be embarrassed!) and you found that leona really did enjoy lounging around your house. it was like he was living here again, except he went home after dinner because after disappearing for months (and hiding at your place) he was apparently scolded very hard and had two sets of guards follow him everywhere.

they were the two royal guards that asked you about leona's whereabouts before. it seemed as if only those two and leona were the only ones who knew (and figured out) that you had been unknowingly hiding him and keeping the royal family very vulnerable with leona’s disappearance. (oops!)

you've heard people whispering about the second prince's whereabouts, which was why you were so insistent that he goes back home to the palace. which he did. way later than he should've.

the two guards were named ruggie and jack. you kinda felt bad that they had to stick around waiting for leona all day so every time you cooked a meal, you'd prepare little lunchboxes for them to enjoy, and gift them books you think they might like, free of charge.

jack, apparently, was new to the job. he looked very righteous, definitely a guy who trained to work for the royal family his entire life. he did not look at least one bit bored waiting around for leona all day long. he was also reluctant to eat the food you made, but after seeing leona wolf it down and snag a few from your plate when you weren't looking, jack started to take them a lot more comfortably.

ruggie, on the other hand, seemed to be a seasoned veteran. not in battle though. just dealing with leona.

apparently, ruggie had been on leona's ass since they were teenagers so everyone thought it would be better to just let ruggie stick with leona even after he was promoted to knighthood.

ruggie was fine with it. he claimed it was easy money and he didn't mind sticking with leona. he said it was a lot easier now that you could take care of him (you flushed at this comment) and greedily took the food you offered without a second thought.

you laid your head back. the fire was cackling and the hot cocoa was letting out steam. winter was really near, and the house was often cold so you mostly stayed around the living room or bundled up tightly in bed. you were too scared to leave the fire on overnight to warm the house, so it got pretty chilly at night.

these were the days you really missed modern living with their heaters and air conditioners. summer was pretty hard to deal with as well, heavy heatstrokes hitting your house every second of every hour. but the cold days were the worst. you could just wear less layers during the summer, but the winter meant you had to be prepared. you thanked the heavens that leona was warm and toasty, as you started to often hold onto him for warmth.

you weren't sure what you'd call whatever you and him had. a relationship? a couple? your boyfriend? you shook your head. you had no idea if this world had some sort of courting tradition and leona just threw away the rules and kissed you right then and there, but you didn't really care. you still had intentions to leave this world, even if that seemed to be way far out of your reach.

sometimes, you'd compare the leona who was hogging your thighs right now to the leona you read in the novel. in the novel, leona rarely showed any physical contact with roselia, nor did he kiss her until the very end of the story, where it was left to a happily ever after. he was often shy with his advances and would rather show his affections and love through the sidelines, doing things for her ambiguously. this leona, however, was very, very handsy. the moment you guys kissed, he hadn't been able to keep his hands off of you. hand on your waist, holding hands, little pecks on your face, a hug, you name it, he's done it. he had zero shame.

"hey, do you want to eat out tonight?"

"sure. i'm tired of cooking. where?"

"isn't there a branch of mostro lounge nearby."

"what? that place costs so much!"

"did you forget who I am?"

there was one thing that the novel got right about leona's preferred way to show affection.

both versions of leona loved to flaunt their money.

a month into whatever the hell was going on between you and leona, you were skimming through a book about transmigration. the hope of leaving never really left, even if you seemed to be pretty settled (and even in a relationship)

sometimes, when the body's owner wake up in a completely new body in a completely new life without their consent, they tend to almost never find a way out, no matter what they try.

hah, you'd been there.

however, some speculate that the only way to go back home in those situations is through feeling alone. if the transmigrator doesn't have a 100% unchangeable desire to go back home, the chances are zero to none. this is why those who end up settling down at a life in their new world usually have a hard time getting back. especially those who form meaningful bonds. those who are stuck in the middle are called to have a 'transmigration conundrum.'

you thought to yourself. do you truly like it here? like, before you met leona and started liking him like that. were you truly content? you were mixed with emotion.

if the transmigrator really does have a strong desire to go back home, they find themselves suddenly awake in their beds as if no time has passed and no changes had happened at all. those who claimed that they have experienced this state that they were usually able to go back home after they resolved some complicated feelings they had with those in the other world.

your eyes were starting to get droopy. you were relaxed, lying down on your bed, leona right next to you, snoring as loud as a person would possibly be. it was nearing dark and you wanted to wake leona but you got distracted staring at his face.

for a prince, he looked pretty unguarded. but then again, he did have two royal guards standing right outside of your door.

you kissed the top of his forehead and looked up at your ceiling.

attachments… what were you attached to in this world?

leona, for starters, was very special in your heart. the bookstore was quite special too, you guessed. you've come to grow fond of the smell of vintage yellowed paper pages or the way fresh ink would glide smoothly from your quill.

you were also a little fond of ruggie and jack, and the fresh produce you were able to get (you eventually became friends with the grocer after bargaining with the guy so much) and the delicious foods you were able to make with it.

but you were also fond of the extremely processed, sugar snacks, and the easily accessible internet, transportation, phones and your bedroom.

you truly did have a transmigration conundrum.

you were getting sleepy and felt like dozing off, but you knew leona couldn't sleep over so you slowly shook him.

"hey. leona, wake up."

he growled and turned to sleep over you. you groaned and smacked his back. no reaction.

"leonaaaa wake upppp you know you're not allowed to sleep over and i don't want ruggie or jack to bust into my house again. if they break my door again you better buy me a nicer one."

you sniffed. something was burning.

"leona. do you smell that?"

you saw him scrunch up his nose, then open his eyes.

"something's burning."

leona stood right up and you followed behind.

your house was fine, so you had no idea where the burning smell was coming from. leona probably thought the same as he grabbed your hand and proceed to head to the back door. the door connected to the bookstore.

the moment he opened the door, a rageful fire bursted through and he immediately closed it back. you eyes widened. the books!

letting go of his hand, you ran out the other door to walk out and see your bookstore in full. it seemed as if both jack and ruggie had just noticed the fire as they scurried right behind you.

the entire bookstore… it was in flames. but how? never mind that. you needed to put the fire out!

you had never felt so desolate in your life.

by the time you managed to stop the fire (with the help of ruggie, jack and leona– jack especially) the entire placed was screwed over. the books were pure black in ash, the supports were fallen off and the roof was just, not there.

the fire somehow transported itself to your house as well, so some of the area was burnt off. but you still had a livable house, luckily.

leona offered to pay to rebuild the place but you just shook your head. the words transmigration conundrum echoed in your head and you had a subtle urge to try and let go of this place you've come to love.

you still had some books lying around your house. thank the sevens you had stacks of them at home.

but the comfort of a leatherback storybook wasn't there. just a pitted void of what you used to do. you also didn't have a job anymore. so what now?

leona was beside you once again, this time wide awake. he still did look sleepy.

"i have no job, and i'm deadbeat broke most of the time… what am I to do now?" you laughed weakly. you could still see the hints of burnt wood creeping on your walls and you felt even more devoid.

"you could live with me. then you won't have to work at all. or work at the library archive." leona suggested, leaning his head onto your shoulder.

"living with you? in the palace? me? with the royal family? that's insane. you'd need a good reason to house someone perfectly healthy and fine like me."

"what about amalgamation?"

"amalgamation? like marriage? haha."

"yea."

you turned your head. he looked dead serious.

"...what?"

"i'm saying we could be engaged, or something. then you could live in the palace."

that's right… roselia had no reason to worry about food or housing, because the palace took care of that for her… the pros of being a prince's fiancé.

but you had to be smart. you were just a commoner. the royal family didn't know you, the kingdom's people didn't know you, you didn't even know yourself.

you also weren't sure if people would take it to liking when leona randomly announces a wedding engagement.

the words transmigration conundrum still echoed loudly in your head. the desire to go back home seemed to have been ignited brightly once more.

"...no." you decided.

leona genuinely looked surprised. "no?"

"i can't… i just can't." you fumbled your words. you couldn't bring yourself to explain why. you wanted to spill your guts out with reasoning, but you could not find the right words.

"so if i asked you seriously and proposed, would you say no?"

you felt tense. "I… I guess so…"

leona straightened up. "then you should've said so in the first place. then i wouldn't have bothered with you or this relationship at all."

he walked out the door, his tail swished left and right rapidly. he was upset, you could tell that easily. but you didn't have the strength to get up and chase after him. you were tired. tired of this world, tired of somehow having the worst luck, and being struck with guilt over everything.

huh, so did leona intend to marry you in this relationship?

that wouldn’t be a good idea. right?

you probably wouldn’t be able to fully commit to it— considering your position right now.

were you not able to or did you just simply not want to?

you saw snow fall outside the window.

transmigration conundrum.

it had been two or three days since you last saw leona. you couldn't remember, as you laid in bed all day, mourning over who knows what (you felt as if you got over the whole bookstore thing– the responsibility of running it did take a toll on you. so what was making you so miserable now?) (you knew. it was because leona wasn’t there.)

he visited nearly everyday. this was the longest time you've gone without seeing him since the beginning of your relationship.

relationship? what relationship?! what even were you two? he just kissed you and got all touchy with you. and you, being touch starved and miserable without your friends or family, probably just leaned into the attention! and- not even two months in and he asked about marriage. what is this?! is this world really that weird or is leona just a freak?

you groaned into your pillow. being welled up in your own home was suffocating. this entire world was suffocating. you needed a breath of fresh air.

it was nearing sunset, and you decided you wanted to take a quick walk on a whim.

bundling up in your warmest clothes, you stepped outside to experience winter in this universe for the first time. it was truly beautiful, with its flawless, untouched and pristine white snow, the way the sun dimly makes the shadows appear in dark and warm hues of blue… you wished you weren't so frustrated so that you could appreciate it properly.

stomping in the snow, you huffed and breathed in the cold winter air as it entered your lungs. you were suddenly starting to feel better, and your mind was emptying.

however, due to your enjoyment of simply taking a breather outside, you realized it was nearing nightfall. you have to go home as soon as possible, you had no light source with you.

stomp, stomp you could hear your shoes step into the snow as you trudged through them like the total athlete you are.

you could barely see ahead of you, as it was dark at this point, so you were just following the footsteps in the snow you left. but it was snowing again, and your markings were fading away. you had to hurry.

stomp, stomp, stomp…

gotta hurry home…

stomp, stomp, stomp….

transmigration conundrum?

stomp, stomp, stomp…

you laughed at yourself. no way you're stuck in the middle. what conundrum is there?

stomp, stomp, stomp…

you just want to go home. done deal.

stomp, stomp, stomp…

who cares about anything else?

stomp, stomp, stomp…

who cares about leona king- OOF!

you were too engrossed into your thoughts that you ran into someone.

“I’m sorry.” you said, not bothering to look up. the shoes the guy was wearing looked fancy.

“y/n.”

you finally realized what you were doing and look up in hurry. it was leona.

“why are you here?”

“i followed the footsteps from your house.”

“oh. okay then. bye, i guess.”

psh. you didn’t care about leona either. you lost interest in everything. you wanted to go home.

“wait.”

transmigration conundrum.

leona grabbed your wrist. you turned around, both your faces fleshed in red from the cold. you didn’t want to see leona anymore. the more you looked at him, the more the guilt grew.

ultimately, the only thing keeping you from leaving this so called ‘conundrum’ was him.

if you decided to stay all for the sake of him, like roselia did, instead of going home, then you wouldn’t be able to go back. you’d lose everything you’d ever known. your friends, your family… although you were pretty boyfriend-less in your world, you were still happy because everyone and everything you loved was still there.

you missed your bed, your parents, your friends. you missed fast food and sodas and reading comic books. you missed having a cool AC to fight against the summer heat, unlike now where you had to just deal with it while withstanding a wrist-pain inducing fan.

leona was here, but everything else was there. you just couldn’t give it up.

leona’s eyes were wide, his chest heaving up and down as the winter fog surrounded you both.

“i love you.”

you blink.

“y/n. y/n i love you.”

you felt tears well up in your eyes.

“i-“

“i love you. i love your tryhard cooking, your shitty medical skills. the books stacked around your house— i did enjoy reading them. i love you. why can’t you understand that? what is blocking you from being with me? is it because i’m a prince? is my status scary? i’m not even after the throne. i have no interest. i just want to be with you.”

wow. so your guess was right. you thought that leona maybe lost interest in going after the throne. this was a red flag.

leona lost interest in all his evil schemes when he finally settled and accepted his feelings of roselia. which meant only one thing— he accepted his feelings for you. from how early on he stopped caring for the throne, he’s accepted his love for you a long, long time ago.

“i— i don’t mind settling down in a small town. i don’t care if my reputation crashes. we- we could rebuild that bookstore together. and not through my family’s money. we can actually work for it.”

this was bad. he was willing to lose everything. the leona kingscholar, who only cared about the throne, was now showing the most emotion you’ve ever seen, in person or in novel— for you.

you heart tightened. you truly did believe that leona could work something out. that you guys could work something out together and live happily, a happily ever after, like he originally did with roselia.

no. he didn’t deserve you. going home was still at the very top of your mind now, more than ever before. he deserved someone like roselia, someone who was willing to loss it all for him, like he would for you.

except you weren’t roselia. you could never be her, and you would live the rest of your life with a huge hole in your left because you lived feeling unfulfilled.

you had to put a stop to this. his desperation tugged at your heart. you couldn’t handle it anymore.

“you don’t know me like you think you do.” you started. you let go of leona’s grip on your wrist.

“i’m not from here.” you sighed. “i can’t explain it. but I’m not from here, and i need to leave. that was my objective from the very beginning.”

“i can’t… i can’t be with you because i don’t belong here. not because of you, but me. it’s because of me.”

leona seemed to understand the situation. perhaps your mannerisms, the way you speak, all the books about transmigration, your current avoidance, it seemingly all connected.

he grabbed both your hands.

“i… okay. i understand. at least, i think i do.”

the crisp winter air danced between you two.

“thank you. for everything.” leona said.

you laughed weakly. ‘you’re saying thank you now? what gives?”

“just because. it feels like i’m never going to see you again.”

you wrapped your arms around leona’s back, hugging him tightly. the soft, fluffy clothes protecting you from the cold smushed between you too.

and then you woke up.

to be continued...?

a.n: thanks for anyone who stuck around all the way to here !! if this was ao3 i would expand on it more but i feel like the romance got a little too rushed (i tried to make it evenly paced as possible but that added the whole doc to 20k words my phone cannot handle all of that i WILL lag and screw something up) so i hope its not too negatively silly!!

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fic #twst wonderland #twst x reader #x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #savanaclaw #isekai au #isekai

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