#i hope this is okay ! let me know if you need me to change anything < 33

[the-thing-withfeathers]

exceeded caution part 4

our thing

series masterlist | previous part | next part

a/n: surprise!!! this was actually supposed to be out tomorrow but i had the motivation to finish it today. i hope y'all enjoy this chapter cause its got a teeny bit of fluff in it with sam and answers to the cliffhanger i left u guys on last time. sorry not sorry about it.

pairing: ex!tara carpenter x f!reader into sam carpenter x f!reader

warnings: mention of ambulances, mention of car accidents, mention of past injuries, hospitals, cursing. 5.2k words.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you twisted and turned in the hospital bed. you don’t understand why they had to keep you overnight. you would much rather be recovering in your own bed.

“can you hand me the water?” you turned to the dark-haired girl sitting next to you in the chair.

“of course.” she replied, reaching over and handing you the cup of water that she so graciously picked up for you.

“thank you.” you said, using your good arm to grab it and lift it to your lips.

she nodded at you and leaned back into her seat, crossing her legs.

“how’s your arm?” she asked, resting her head on her palm.

“it hurts. and the wrap is really uncomfortable. i just wanna go home.” you whined softly.

“i know.” she could sense your frustration.

“mindy got to go home and her cut was so much worse.” you complained. the pain and suffocating walls were getting to you.

“hey, hey…” she stood up, walking over to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. she leaned down a little to get in your eyeline. “it’s okay. i’ll be here tonight and you can bother me with whatever you need. you’re probably going to enjoy bossing me around anyways.”

you let out a mix of a scoff and a chuckle.

“you know i’ve never been the bossy type. not even when we were together.” you shook your head.

tara laughed softly, you missed when the two of you could enjoy each other’s company. “yeah, i know. but now’s the time.”

sam walked in with two coffees just after tara spoke. she walked over to her sister and handed her one of the cups.

“thanks, sam.” tara took the cup from sam and took a long sip.

sam looked over at you and her face softened. she was trying to apologise to you but was sure you had already heard many attempts of “i’m sorry”s.

you weakly smiled at her, putting the cup back down with tara’s help.

the doctor walked in shortly after. he was holding a clipboard and sporting a smile on his face, you were hoping for good news based on his expression.

“good news.” great! “you can actually go home tonight but you’ll need to be back tomorrow for a check-in.”

you huffed in disappointment. you wanted to go home but you’d be back in anyways. at least you’d be able to get a change of clothes.

“i’ll take you tomorrow.” sam said, turning her head to face you.

you looked helpless, knowing that you couldn’t do it yourself. you had to face the fact that distance between you and sam was next to impossible.

“okay. i’d like that.” you nodded at her. she nodded back at you and turned to the doctor.

“she’ll be here tomorrow. what time?” she inquired for you as you slowly started to stand up.

“2pm works best for me. we’ll fit you in asap.” the doctor confirmed with sam and turned to leave.

“can you guys give me a second to change?” you asked the two girls, they hesitated but agreed. they were both afraid to leave you alone.

the two sisters left the room but stayed just outside in case you needed anything.

tara looked around and spotted the two paramedics that took care of you. she hastily approached them.

“thank you both for helping our friend.” she said, they both turned to her with hospitable smiles.

“no problem.” the male said.

“yeah, we’re sorry you didn’t get to jump in. there was only space for one more.” the female said, empathetically.

“tara.” you got the girl’s attention. “go with mindy.” you said as the female paramedic started working on your arm. “sam, will you come with me?”

sam jumped into the ambulance without hesitation, boosting herself up then turning to her sister.

“tara, we’ll see you at the hospital.” sam said as the male closed the door.

tara furrowed her eyebrows at the sight of the ambulance driving off, she hoped that she had worked hard enough so you would choose her. unfortunately, sam had just been working harder.

she sharply turned to join mindy’s ambulance. chad decided to drive everyone else for the sake of convenience.

you winced as your arm was disinfected and wrapped to mitigate the bleeding. sam looked just as pained as you did.

you were now bearing the scars of the killer.

she was grateful you didn’t make it to dinner when the attack happened. unfortunately, sam’s luck turned when she heard you. of course you just had to show up for her.

part of her felt responsible, because you had promised her.

you looked away from the stab wound, tears pooling at the edge of your eyelids. you reached for sam with your good arm, she took your hand in hers, interlinking your fingers.

“i’m so sorry. i said that nobody would ever hurt you again, and someone did.” she said, leaning down until her lips were right beside your ear. “i’m going to end this. and we’re gonna be okay.”

you choked down a sob, you were scared for your life. sure, it was only your arm right now but where would it be next? and you knew there would be a next.

“it hurts, sam.” you whimpered, squeezing her hand when the wrap got to tight.

“i know, baby. just squeeze my hand, it’ll be over soon.” god you swear you felt like you were about to explode in tears. the combination of the pain and sam’s pet name for you made your chest feel like a rollercoaster.

you needed to make it through to hear her call you that again. over and over again.

she pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, running her fingers through your hair. you felt yourself relax a little bit more.

you tried to stop the pit of guilt growing in your stomach. you liked this, you enjoyed this. this was helping.

you thought that maybe you could live with tara hating you forever.

you just hated the fact that the hatred might extend to sam.

although, the more she peppered kisses on your cheek to reassure you, the less you started to worry about tara.

“ow! fuck!” you cried out, the sudden pressure on your arm from hitting a speed bump took you out of your internal monologue.

“drive carefully, will you?!” sam suddenly scolded the ambulance driver.

“sam, it’s fine. he’s just doing his job.” just as she calmed you, you returned that same feeling to her.

she sighed after you kept her in check. “you’re right. sorry.” she apologised sheepishly.

“it’s fine, stressful night.” you’re lucky the guy was kind enough to understand.

you took a deep breath and decided to close your eyes the rest of the way there, the lights were too much for you at the moment.

at the back of your eyelids, all you pictured was sam carpenter calling you ‘baby.’

“it’s alright.” tara told the paramedic, waving her hand in dismissal. “i’m just grateful she got here in one piece. thanks again.” she said before walking away, joining sam outside your room.

tara was confused. she was a lot of other things but right now confused was the biggest thing.

“what are you doing with her?” tara asked sam, her tone was hard, rough. it was like an interrogation.

“what do you mean, tara?” sam asked, her eyebrows furrowed in equal confusion.

“i mean what’s going on with you two? you never batted an eyelid at her when i was with her. suddenly it’s like you two are attached at the hip.” tara stuck a finger out to point at sam, an accusatory action.

“tara, we’re just getting closer. she stuck around and she’s been there for both of us.” sam said defensively.

“she’s been there for you. she’s barely even spoken to me!”

“well maybe because you shattered her heart and she didn’t sign up for it!” sam said, standing upright. she and tara had fought before, but never over someone else.

“i’m trying to make things right! but it seems like all she wants is to be around you! so what the hell is going on?!” tara asked, her hands making gestures along with her words.

“nothing is going on, tara! we’re just friends!”

“friends don’t look at each other like that!”

you creaked the door open, you had no idea what was happening outside. the two sisters quieted down the second they saw you. you were still in your bloodied clothes.

both their faces softened at the sight of you. they both hated to see you like this. the kindest person they both have ever known, nearly beaten to a damn pulp.

“hey guys, is everything okay?” you noticed the tension in the room as you pulled your jacket over yourself.

“yeah.”

“of course.”

you looked at them for a second, not believing them. but you decided to let it go, you were too exhausted to deal with carpenter drama at the moment.

“i’m just gonna go home.” you mumbled, walking towards the emergency room exit.

“we’ll come with you.” tara followed behind you but you shook your head.

“i can make it back alone. i just need a second of silence to myself. and you two should go check on mindy. she’s got a lot of shit to work through.” you dismissed the idea of them coming along. “tell her that i’ll come and see her soon too.”

tara was about to protest again but sam grabbed her arm, holding her back.

“let her go, she needs to rest.” sam said in a low voice. you smiled in approval. you tilted your head slightly to meet her eyes.

“i’ll call.” you told her, trying to look at both of them but mainly sam. “see you tomorrow, sam.” you waved as you exited.

you left sam and tara behind in the hospital. you left them behind with each other and with the looming thought that swirled at the back of their heads.

they both wanted to be your choice.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

as you slowly lowered yourself into bed, you tried wriggling your fingers. to your dismay, nothing happened.

were you finally going to lose the arm you worked so hard to heal?

you realised you hadn't checked in with your family in a while, they probably didn't even know that you were involved in the killings.

you took your phone out of your pocket, lifting yourself slightly to make it easier. you pressed dial on your mom's number, sighing as you let it ring.

"hey sweetie, how's it going?" you nearly broke down into tears the second you heard her voice. you missed her so much.

"good, mom. i'm just having a little bit of a rough day. i wanted to check on you and dad." you said, rubbing your eyes and yawning.

"i'm okay, darling. we actually had your grandparents over the other day. they were asking about you. you'll have to come home soon." she said, excitement in her voice at the thought of you visiting them.

"yeah! of course. i'll see you when the semester is over, it won't be long now." you reassured her. "how's dad?"

she paused for a second before clearing her throat. "he's seen better days but he's doing much better than last month. he's more confident in his running again."

"that's so good to hear, i'll take him on a jog when i'm back." you chuckled. like you, your dad came out of the accident with lasting injuries.

"how's um... tara?" oh. you really hadn't called in a while.

"good. we're not actually together anymore but we're still friends. we have the same group of people we hang out with so it's hard to avoid her." you said, you heard your mom's disappointed sigh through the phone.

"aw, i'm sorry, love." she replied. "i know how much you adored her, you wouldn't stop talking about her."

"yeah, i know. it was unfortunate but maybe for the better."

"do you still have feelings for her?" your mom never hesitated with these questions.

"um... i don't know. it's hard being around her so much but i think i'm on my way to moving on." you talked like you were trying to tell yourself that more than her, it gave you a lot to think about.

"that's fair, hun." she sounded like she was thinking about what to say next. "well, at the end of the day, you need to find the best person for you. you're a great person, honey. you deserve someone just as great."

"thanks, mom." her advice was ever so sightly cliché but it was just nice to hear her voice.

"that's okay. you sound tired, you should get some rest. i have to get dinner started anyways." she said, you felt yourself choke all the sobs down. you missed her cooking.

"okay, i will. i'll call you when i can. i love you." you said, covering your mouth as tears started falling out of your eyes.

"i love you too." she said and you hung up on her right after, allowing yourself to cry.

you pulled your knees into your chest as you sobbed. you didn't even think about how your family would handle it if something happened to you.

you didn't even know how you were going to explain now having an arm out of commission. how could anyone explain your actual death?

through your glassy eyes, you almost called her. you almost called sam but you weren't ready for her to see you in this state. you knew she was already dealing with so much. you were sure you would just take time away that she could be spending with everyone else.

you leaned back into the bed, your chest heaving as your eyes fluttered shut, sending you into your well-deserved slumber.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

the next morning, sam was there for your doctor's appointment.

part of you was shy. the hospital was a very vulnerable place to be in. you'd spend quite a bit of your childhood in the hospital, recovering from the injuries you sustained.

"it already seems to be healing well. the bleeding has stopped and it looks clean." the doctor said as he unwrapped the bandage. you didn't care to look, you hated the idea of having another wound to add into the mix.

sam's hand rested on your thigh as you sat upright on the bed, you placed your own hand over hers and squeezed softly. you did it to acknowledge her, that she was there.

"can you try to wiggle your fingers for me?" he asked, holding your arm in his hands.

you tried. you definitely tried.

you even grunted as you tried to will your fingers to move, even just a little bit. you thought you would break a sweat from how hard you were pushing. you ultimately let out a heavy breath and gave up.

"no, i can't. i'm sorry." you apologised to the doctor. you were fed up with disappointing people.

"that's alright. it usually takes people a while until they can do it again after significant damage." he wrote on a paper attached to his clipboard as he spoke to you. "with physical therapy, we can definitely get you back up to speed."

"i'm not gonna lie, i kind of have no time for physical therapy." you admitted. between the investigation and your studies, you had zero time for recovery.

"i'll try to make sure she gets to those meetings when she can." and her too. you wanted to make time for sam. when she joined the conversation, the doctor looked relieved.

"you've got a good friend there." the doctor shot you a pointed look.

"oh, don't i know it." you replied back.

as you and sam made it out of the hospital, you were afraid to face a swarm of reporters again. luckily, it was only the two of you.

"thank you for taking me." you said as the two of you walked to her car.

“that’s okay. i’m happy to.” she had her hands in her pockets as she walked behind you.

you turned back around to face her, leaning against her taillight.

“you called me baby in the ambulance.” you tilted your head, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since it happened.

“i’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, i was just really worried about you.” she said.

“you also kissed my cheek. a lot.” she rolled her eyes, clearly taking the hint that you were far from uncomfortable.

“okay, anything else?” she prodded as she stepped closer to you.

“nope. just wanted to see what you’d say.” you smiled at her.

it was the worst time to flirt. you’d just come out of the hospital and your arm was basically a phantom attached to your body. but you needed to talk about it, you had to talk about what you were.

“okay, look. i like you and i like having you around.” sam accepted defeat, knowing you were just going to pry more. “as more than a friend.”

“oh, i know.” you raised your eyebrows. “i also know that tara is going to kill us if we pursue anything further. especially now.”

“it’s horrible timing, yes. i’ll admit that.” sam said in agreement. “but… we can’t push it down forever.”

“no. you’re right. we can’t.” you nodded at her. “so i propose a deal.”

“i’m listening.” sam crossed her arms over her chest.

“we end this ghostface bullshit and then we figure out what this is.” you paused. “hell, i’d even go as far as to say that we can be together.” you held out a pinky for her, “i never break my pinky promises.”

“i thought this was a deal?” she cocked an eyebrow.

“it was. but promises are kind of becoming our thing.”

she took your pinky in hers, intertwining them. she pulled you closer abruptly, your arms trapped between your chests.

you looked up at her and she nearly went weak in the knees. she leaned forward, capturing your lips in a quick but deep kiss.

it was the kiss that sealed the promise.

you pulled away and kissed the back of her hand, pulling your hand away.

“come on, we gotta get going. i have to make my class.” you said, turning around to hop into the passenger seat.

when sam dropped you off at school, you looked around cautiously, making sure nobody was there before pressing a parting kiss to her cheek.

on the walk to class, you stopped in your tracks as you were hit with the realisation.

sam carpenter is yours. you are going to date your ex’s sister.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when you received a call from sam that day, you almost didn't pick up as you had your phone on silent, just to take a break from everything.

you knew things would be picking up with the investigation as time went on. they were on a time limit, the quicker they found the killer, the quicker this would be over.

when sam asked you to meet them at some random alley, you were terrified that ghostface had gotten to someone else.

you struggled with driving, not being able to use your arm. so you decided to take the train. it had been ages since you did, opting to drive to beat the body odor. you sat in silence during the drive.

you realised that you hadn't actually called sam or tara like you said, but you hoped that they would be understanding enough.

once you arrived, the entire group was already present. along with gale and kirby.

"what's she doing here?" you asked, standing next to sam.

"she said she found something." sam answered your question.

"do we trust her enough?" you questioned further. you wanted to know how sam was going about this.

"trust is a strong word."

you smiled wearily at her, you knew that only few good things could come from this investigation. the more information you found, the better, but what would that information resurface for the sisters?

"how's your arm?" sam turned to face you, her eyes softening. she wanted to reach out and hold you or even better, obtain some magical ability to heal you.

"been better. i can't move my fingers or anything but i can move my elbow." you informed her.

"we'll get there. you're a strong person, recovery will be a breeze." she said, trying to make you feel better. you knew recovery was going to be a bitch but perhaps it would be easier if sam was by your side.

"i wanna try physical therapy this weekend, could you come with me?” it was your first time asking her. but you already knew the answer.

“of course.” she nodded, stepping closer to you just until the back of your hands were brushing against each other.

gale stepped out from around the corner, gesturing for all of you to follow her. she talked about how greg and jason rented a property under fake names to hide their little hobby.

you felt a chill rush down your spine the second you walked through the gate, you were practically shadowing sam, not wanting to be too far away from your not-girlfriend-girlfriend.

“it’s a movie theater.” tara pointed out.

"it's not just a theater." gale said, flipping a switch to turn the lights on and kickstart a mechanism that raised the curtains that covered the screen. "it's a shrine."

your heart dropped at the sight of jason and greg's fucked up collection of memorabilia related to the ghostface killings.

articles of clothing, newspaper clippings, and even the goddamn weapons used, still covered in blood.

and on the stage, it was a sight to make someone's blood run cold.

the ghostface cloaks. masks missing.

"we've got the whole goddamn franchise." mindy said, you walked down the aisle, examining every piece of the collection.

you spotted kirby staring almost too hard at a flannel and pair of jeans. those must have belonged to the ones that hurt her.

you heard mindy call out to chad, pointing out a sweater that belonged to their uncle randy.

you felt disgusted, how could someone just have all of these items and be okay with it? you hated how sick their minds could be.

you saw gale linger in front of a glass case, you read "dewey riley" on the sketch. you had never met him but tara said he was important to them, you knew he helped them out.

you turned around to find sam, unmoving. you made your way back to her, reaching over and squeezing her elbow.

"are you okay?" you asked. she wouldn't look at you, she was still scanning the room.

"yeah, fine." you hadn't seen sam this closed off in a while. she was normally open and honest with you, but you understood why she was hiding her emotions. she finally stepped forward, walking closer to tara.

"hey, how'd they get all this stuff? i mean, isn't this evidence?" tara popped the question.

"cops like money, and evidence can get lost pretty easily." gale theorized.

you made your way around again, your pace halting when a sketch of sam caught your eye. whoever did this captured her likeness with an accuracy that was scary.

as ethan questioned why he had to stick around, you had to tear your eyes away from the drawing. they stuck her right next to her biological father, you knew she hated to be associated with him.

you watched as the older carpenter sister ascended the stage, standing right in front of her father's cloak.

"fuck no." you overheard her say, she was staring straight into the glass. but it was almost as if she wasn't looking at the cloak but something else. as she put her hand on the glass, you saw a connection between her and all the history that the enclosure held.

you watched helplessly, you knew this was bigger than you.

you spotted tara walking towards her, taking her attention away from the case with conversation. tara was staring at her weirdly, like she sensed the same thing you did.

you followed the crowd as everyone started to take their places in front of the other black robes.

you stood in front of one, you had no idea who it belonged to but it didn't make it any less sinister.

"so somebody killed these chucklefucks and took over?" chad asked, facing the group.

"someone who believes that sam masterminded woodsboro."

"do people really think that sam did it?" you asked. "she was the target, surely it doesn't make sense."

"you're clearly new here." kirby turned to you. "nothing here is ever logical. they can make sam look guilty if they wanted to, the cops believe anything when they're scared. they want to seize every opportunity they can at catching a killer. even if it means taking someone innocent in."

"if this was a normal stab movie, this would be the killer's lair." mindy pointed out, her movie knowledge proved incredibly useful at times.

"which means this isn't a normal stab movie." kirby added.

tara took a deep breath in and started to walk out of the theater. you watched as the look on sam's face quickly turned worried. she stepped forward to follow her but you stopped her.

"it's okay. stay here. i'll go." you put a hand out and she nodded, stepping back.

you followed tara out and caught her just as she took a swig of her inhaler.

"you feeling okay?" you asked her, slowly approaching.

"hell no." she said, turning around to face you. "i'll never be a normal person again. i don't want any of this! the last time i felt normal was when we were together. i wish i was a shitty person again instead of some legacy character."

you didn't even realise you were holding a breath in as you exhaled deeply.

"i'm sorry." was all you could say, you had no idea what she was going through.

"did you know i cut my mother off because she wouldn't talk to sam?" you knew she harboured resentment towards sam then, you figured it hit its boiling point. it made things a lot harder when it came to dealing with your feelings.

"you told me that one night when you were drunk." you confirmed with her. while tara had no recollection of most nights she was inebriated, you held onto those memories. not willingly but they were hard to get rid of.

"normal people have their mothers." she scoffed. "i don't know how i can ever get past any of this. i don't understand how sidney was able to just pack up and leave. it pisses me off."

"i don't think sidney will ever be able to get past it either, tara." you stepped closer to the girl. she looked up at you with those eyes you used to be so fond of. "i don't think it's a matter of getting over it. i think it's a matter of going straight through."

tara looked at you confused, you smiled slightly as you realised the metaphor fell short.

"what i mean is... you're one of the strongest people i've ever met. but this whole ghostface thing is set to tear you down, it's meant to break you down until you are nothing but blood, sweat, and tears." you knew you sounded brutal and harsh, but you never wanted to sugarcoat anything for tara. she hated that. "and you should be fucking angry. but i think anger will get you further than you think. because if you channel and process it right, you shouldn't be scared of ghostface, ghostface should be scared of you."

the corner of tara's mouth raised in a half-smile. she was impressed with you. your timid composure cracking made you all the more interesting, you held some power in this now.

"you're gonna be just fine, tara. you're gonna make it through this stronger than ever, and nobody's ever gonna fuck with you again."

that sealed the deal for tara, she wanted you again.

and she wanted you now.

she grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling you into a kiss that sent you off balance. you crashed into her but quickly pushed her away.

"i'm sorry, tara. i can't." you said as you pulled away, her hands still gripping onto your collar. you slowly removed her hands from you.

"why not? don't you still want me?" she asked. you could tell she was in a state of vulnerability and you hated that you had to do this to her.

"tara, i can't go back to you. i can't do that to myself again, we aren't right for each other." you tried to keep the integrity of what you and sam had without revealing it. you knew that if it got out, it would tear the sisters apart even further.

"is it because of sam?" too late.

you didn't know how to respond. you didn't know how sam would want you to respond.

"it's not about sam, tara. it's about you and me as individuals." you figured a white half-lie would work for now. "we wouldn't work. you only wanted me to relive the past, and that's not what you should be doing."

"i just want to make things right between us." she said, turning away from you. "i don't want to lose you."

"i know. but you can do that as a friend too." you tried to reason with her. "i'm always going to be around. i'm not going anywhere and i'm gonna help end this."

you two were quickly interrupted by detective bailey walking in.

"sorry to interrupt, think i might have an idea about how to turn the tables on this creep." he said, sam followed shortly behind him.

despite you pushing tara away, you felt like you betrayed her slightly. even if you two weren't together.

you didn't know whether or not you should mention the kiss to her, that would be a problem for later.

she walked over to you when everyone else walked off, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"tara looks a bit more relieved. thank you." she said, her hand caressing your cheek. you leaned into her touch.

"i'll be there for her just as much as i am for you." you turned your head slightly to kiss the palm of her hand. "but you should talk to her eventually, you two only really have each other at the end of the day. you understand each other better than i ever will."

"i know. i'll talk to her soon." sam nodded at you, pulling her hand away the second she heard footsteps. "i admire how you always just seem to be the bigger person."

"it's tara. everyone is always the bigger person." you smiled warmly at her as you heard her laugh. these moments are ones you had a special place in your heart for.

chad poked his head back in through the door. "you guys coming?"

"we don't have much of a choice." you commented at him, he simply rolled his eyes at you.

"shall we?" sam asked.

"let's catch this motherfucker."

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

author's journal okayyy heehee i hope u all enjoyed the surprise. i actually kinda struggled writing this cause i had to interweave some good sam moments with the canon storyline. i know the juxtaposition can be a bit jarring but i honestly fuck with it anyways. tysm for my irl friends who kept me accountable on our roadtrip to finish writing this chapter lol they deal with too much bullshit from me. i also found that paris paloma is my favorite artist to listen to when writing this fic actually. her entire cacophony album is just fucking amazing. specifically this song gets me thru it.

i also hope u all dont mind my post-fic yapping. idk if anyone actually reads these but it gives me a chance to tap back into the real world after staring at the screen for hours. im also just such a yapper these days its kinda chronic. anyways, hope u all have an amazing week and i promise chapter 5 wont be ages away. kisses!!!!

[kquil]

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

[xyaehir]

TO BE HIS MEANS TO..

#gojo satoru !

be on the receiving end of his teasing

you’ve known satoru since your highschool days. although that was years ago, the bond that you both share is an irreplaceable and unbreakable one.

many things have changed after all those years; your hair, his hair, your style, his style.

yet many things have also stayed the same. for example, the memories you both shared and the feelings you both harboured for each other. and if there’s one thing that definitely stayed the same and never made an effort to change was..

satoru’s constant need for attention.

“come onnnnn,” your white haired companion pouts, dragging his words exhaustedly. “when was the last time we were ever sent on a mission together? don’t you w’na enjoy this limited time you have with me?”

you sigh, trying to shake off his arms off of your arm as he clings onto you like a koala. “get off of me, i can’t concentrate like this!” you try to pry his arms off, even though you’re not completely against the feeling of his skin on yours. (you have to remain professional though)

he shakes his head, “no thanks- and why would you need to concentrate on anything other than yours truly?” he lifts his chin up with a proud expression.

“because yours truly has an insufferable face!” you quip, shoving his face away lightly. he huffs before moving his head to rest on your shoulder.

“aww, you love this face though.”

you scoff before retorting, “do i? i’d love a curses’ face more than yours!” you gently shove his face away from yours to create distance, hoping he doesn’t see the small smile on your lips.

spoiler alert: he definitely does.

#geto suguru !

be able to see him, and not just his strength

suguru geto is many things — a strong and talented sorcerer, a handsome young man, the best friend of satoru gojo, etcetera.

but suguru geto to you is more than that, more than a weapon. to you, suguru is like rain. he’s the calm and soft patters on your window, the rhythmic patterns of droplets that tap gently on the ground and he’s the soothing sensation that washed away all your negativity.

but like rain, it’s always shooed away by the sun. thankfully, the cloud is always there to provide a space for the rain to do its thing.

suguru geto doesn’t like to be seen vulnerable, that’s one thing you know for certain. he has to be the strongest with satoru, he has to be the voice of reason.

but with you, things are different. he doesn’t have to always be the strongest with you. he doesn’t have to always be the voice of reason. with you, he’s just suguru. he’s free to let his true emotions be seen.

so when days like this are particularly taking more of a toll on him, he knows you’ll be there to help him. because that’s the thing with you, you’re always there.

you’re there to hold his head close to your chest and intertwine your fingers together in a tight lock. you’ll wipe his teary eyes with a tender, featherlight touch.

“it’s going to be okay, i’m here. i’m always here,” you whisper softly, carding your fingers through his messy hair.

the hair that once was always neatly tied back was now messy in your grasp, just like he was. with you, he doesn’t need to tie his hair back, he can just let it flow as it wants to.

#nanami kento !

go on late walks and talks with him

if there’s one thing anyone agrees on when it comes to kento, it’s that he’s a professional guy. he’s formal, stoic and has a seemingly unbreakable poker face.

he’s strict and follows a very tight schedule with no room for error or distractions.

actually, scratch that. he has room for one distraction.

kento knows he should be in bed, sleeping to regain energy he’s been drained of (thanks to a certain albino) and recharge for the next day. so why is he so easily giving into one of your bright ideas?

said bright idea is going out for a walk at 2:30 am.

he’s aware of the consequences this little act might cause to his unforgiving schedule because running on two and a half hours of sleep while exorcising curses isn’t something people would enjoy.

he says its risky and a waste of time but something he wont admit is how he absolutely loves times like this. times where you both can let loose about the struggles of being a sorcerer and just take a breath of fresh air.

he loves how carefree and optimistic you can be while he’s sluggishly trailing after you, his wrist in your grip while you drag him to the exact same place at the exact same time you both go to every week.

then you chat his ear off about the next mission yaga plans to send you on and quickly switch topics about this new yoga and pilates class you’re interested in. he, in turn, listens and sometimes chimes in to add a snarky and backhanded comment on something to make you laugh.

and thus, the cycle repeats. but unlike his repeating routine, kento actually enjoys this cycle.

he wont and probably will never admit it until he deems it not as embarrassing anymore but he enjoys these times you both share.

“ken? heeeeyyy, are you even listening?” you drag out some of the words before reaching over to poke his cheek. he swats your hand away and you chuckle.

he grunts, adjusting his position so he’s slightly closer to you. “i was, i think i just spaced out a bit, don’t mind it. what were you saying about some upside down dog croissants?”

the corners of his mouth twitches upwards when you roll your eyes and groan. “it’s called the downward dog and i said i found out about it while eating croissants at that one bakery you told me about!”

yea, maybe this wasn’t such a distraction after all. he’s sure he can squeeze in some time for times like this in his schedule, totally not because he enjoys it or anything.

AINT NO WAY JJK ENDED VRO 😭😭 BRING THEM BACKK😞 kinda made suguru’s a bit poetic butttt he deserves love too 💗

@xyaehir 2024. this is my content. do not translate, copy or plagiarise my works in any way. reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated. <3

[ddodol]

collide — o.sr

series ⭑.ᐟ [ kinktober masterlist ] content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, bf!taro, implied older fem!reader, pet names, mentions of sungchan for plot's sake, spanking as punishment, shotaro is mean, overstimulation, unprotected sex. word count⭑.ᐟ 2k+

✩🎧⭑.ᐟ [ collide — justine skye ]

“angel, i heard you and sungchan were out all day today.”

you flashed shotaro a small smile as he wrapped his arms around you, giggling when he tiredly rubbed his face against your neck. “mm, said he needed someone to shop with,” you slipped off of shotaro’s arms to grab the clothes you bought from your shopping trip with sungchan.

shotaro laughed as he watched you show every single piece of clothing with a huge smile on his face. you looked so adorable but it bugged him that sungchan was able to see you like this. he wondered if sungchan got to see you fit them before he did— his smile dropping at the thought.

”taro?” you tilt your head, concerned by the sudden change in his expression, “do you feel sick?” shotaro just smiled, shaking his head. you smiled back playfully, “would you feel better if i tried it on for you?” you giggled when shotaro nodded quickly, giving him a quick peck before running to the bathroom.

he honestly didn’t mind if you just stripped in front of him to get changed, but he also found it adorable that you still get embarrassed whenever you two got intimate.

shotaro’s mouth dropped when you stepped out of the bathroom, twirling around cutely as you showed off the clothes you bought. it was a cute cropped blouse and a pleated denim skirt, one that showed off your ass. shotaro loved it, truly, but not with the thought that another man got to see you in them before he did.

“angel, did sungchan see this too?” you cocked your head to the side, nodding innocently as you smiled at shotaro.

”channie said it was cute so i got it.”

oh, so sungchan was channie now.

shotaro could not deny it any longer, he was jealous. if anything, going on a shopping date with you was all he ever wanted, and now he had to learn from sungchan himself that you were out with him to shop for clothes— and to top it all off, you were out there flaunting your ass to him.

you froze when you noticed another change in shotaro’s expression, blinking as you walked towards him. “taro?” you called out softly, sitting on his side of the bed. “are you okay?” shotaro smiled weakly, staring at you with half-lidded eyes.

”angel, did you know sungchan liked older women?” you tilted your head, wondering why shotaro was bringing up sungchan’s type so suddenly. he pulled you in his arms with a sweet smile on his face, his hands wandering down to your thighs, “you walked around with sungchan all day and even showed him this.” you flinched when shotaro grabbed your ass, staring at him with wide eyes.

”t-taro?” you tried to wiggle out of his grasp but he wasn’t letting you go, “taro are you jealous?” shotaro was silent, just pressing his hands against your plush ass, almost leaving a mark at how tightly he was holding you. “baby, you know i only see sungchan as a friend.”

shotaro shook his head with a small pout, “you go out shopping with him more than you do with me.” you bit your lip, finding him a little adorable as he rambled about sungchan. “taro, you know i invite you every time sungchan asks me.”

”that doesn’t mean you should keep accepting.” you giggled softly, leaning in to give shotaro a kiss. you smiled at him, hoping that he’d calm down at least. he shook his head, roughly pushing you down the bed.

you stared at him with wide eyes, “taro?”

”i think you should get punished for that, angel.” you felt shivers down your spine, losing the strength to even try to overpower him. shotaro rolled you over, laying you on your stomach. he gave your cheek small kiss, “how many times has it been? five times now?”

you didn’t know if you should even correct shotaro if he was getting heated over something like this. he clicked his tongue, “angel, why didn’t you correct me? you know it’s been eight now.”

you gasped, feeling his warm hand rubbing all over your exposed ass, “i didn’t want to upset you, taro.”

”now i’m even more upset you didn’t tell me the truth, angel. you’re just trying to get out of this easy. arch your back for me,” you did as you were told, feeling somewhat embarrassed at the position you were in, your newly bought skirt flapping back to fully expose your ass. shotaro lifted his hand, striking it down on your ass with a loud crack. you gasped sharply, trembling at the sting you felt from shotaro spanking you. he held your chin up, “make sure to keep count, angel.”

you whimpered in response, “o-one?”

shotaro smiled at you, caressing your cheek lovingly with his other hand, “good girl.” he gave you a quick slap, leaving you breathless at how unexpected it was. your head felt light, eyes glazing over at how you could still feel the stinging on your skin.

“count, baby.”

”two, taro,” you muttered shakily, pressing your legs together as you felt turned on with his hand on you. you always loved it when shotaro held you, it didn’t matter if he was punishing you like this.

“i’m starting to think you like this, angel,” shotaro gave you another slap, causing you to whimper at how warm your ass was beginning to feel.

“taro,” you moaned, “i’m starting to feel weird.” you choked out a cry when you felt his hand spank your ass once again, squealing when shotaro did it twice in a row.

”shotaro!” you cried out, legs trembling as he massaged your ass after, hands getting closer to your core with every squeeze. he cooed at you, pushing his thumb inside your mouth while you whined. you licked up his thumb, biting on it gently when shotaro gave you another slap. you felt tears pricking your eyes, looking up at shotaro as he held your face in his hand.

“i’m sorry, taro. i won’t hang out with sungchan again, so please,” you sighed out, legs trembling at the unexpected pleasure you were feeling.

shotaro just stared at you coldly, watching as you wiggled around desperately. “baby, please touch me.”

he shook his head, “not until i’m satisfied, angel.” you bit your lip, bracing yourself for another slap. you felt shotaro’s hand on you once again, moaning shamelessly at the pleasurable sting you were beginning to enjoy.

”fuck, angel,” he chuckled softly, gripping on your ass as you let out breathy moans. “you haven’t even been counting. how many has it been, baby?”

you whimpered in response, your touch-deprived brain going blank no matter how hard you were trying to recall. “i don’t know, taro. i can’t think,” you whined, trembling and gasping as soon as you felt shotaro’s hand leave your ass.

you braced yourself for another slap, shaking as you try to hold back a moan. he slapped your ass continuously, leaving you a crying and moaning mess as your skin heated up, legs losing strength. “taro! taro, i’m sorry!” you cried repeatedly with every slap, gripping on the sheets as you try to keep yourself from falling forward.

shotaro craned your head towards him, giving you small kisses all over your face. “does it hurt, y/n?” he asked with a small voice, running his hand over your warm ass, burning red with huge marks of his hand left on your skin.

your breath hitched in your throat, shaking your head, “is it bad that i like it, taro?”

he laughed softly, gripping on your ass gently as he slipped his hand in between your legs, “will you be good to me, angel?” you bit your lip, nodding quickly. “then keep arching your back, baby.”

shotaro got up, pulling his pants down and running his hands over your back as you kept it arched for him. your thighs were trembling when you felt shotaro’s hands on your skin. “taro,” you whined, leaning forward and splitting your legs open, “hurry.”

”angel, i just punished you earlier,” shotaro chuckles, playfully squeezing on your ass, spreading them apart as he positioned himself in between, “you’re probably doing this on purpose now, huh? i get it.”

you let out a sharp gasp when shotaro slapped your ass, moaning when you began to feel your skin stinging. it was starting to feel addicting, vision blurring as you weakly try to keep yourself from crashing down the bed. “more, taro,” you whimpered, “please keep doing that.”

shotaro ran his tongue through his lips, biting back a smile as he pushed inside your walls without warning. you felt warm and wet around his cock, groaning at how tight you were clamping down on him. “fuck, all of this over a few spanks, angel?” shotaro groaned, thrusting deep and pulling out, watching your walls try to pull him back inside so needily.

”you liked it that much?” shotaro chuckled darkly, gripping down on your hips, nails almost digging through your skin. he always tried his best not to hurt you too much— although, tonight’s discovery might change his mind.

you let out a loud cry when shotaro began to pound his hips into you more forcefully, body moving forward with every thrust. he slipped in a few slaps rhythmically whenever he was deep inside, laughing when your walls twitched in response.

the sound of skin slapping echoed in the room and it drove you insane. you rarely heard that sound, mostly when you’re close to fainting and you couldn’t even focus on anything anymore. “taro! oh my god!” you squealed, gripping on the sheets as you tried to keep yourself from falling.

shotaro bit his lip, holding on your hips and pushing his cock deep inside you. “fuck! taro!” you choked out, body finally crashing down with shotaro pressing his body against yours. he moved closer to you, essentially trapping you between the headboard and his body, leaving you nowhere to escape to.

”angel, you’re clenching down too much,” shotaro moaned, struggling to keep thrusting despite your wet slick. you mewled when shotaro played with your ass, spreading them apart as he dragged his cock out. “are you close, angel?” you nodded quickly, incoherently begging him to let you cum.

”i’ll let you cum, angel, so just be a good girl and take it all, yeah?” shotaro snapped his hips against yours, his pace unrelenting and brutal, leaving you a moaning mess, voice already breaking at how loud you were being.

“cumming, taro— fuck! i’m so close!” you sobbed out, body tensing up as your orgasm approached.

shotaro gave your ass a few playful slaps, wincing when he got the reaction he wanted, your walls clenching down on him perfectly. with one powerful thrust, you let out a loud cry, making a huge mess on the sheets.

”god, that’s so hot, angel,” shotaro groaned, almost reaching his orgasm. it all just felt so overwhelming, body spasming with every thrust. it didn’t take long for shotaro to flood your walls, too lost in the moment to pull out like he usually does.

”fuck,” he mumbled, panting tiredly as he realized, “fuck, fuck.” shotaro pulled out quickly, your body fully crashing down without anything supporting it up. he tried fishing his cum out of you, pushing his fingers in carefully, eyes shaking as he watched your expression.

you let out soft whines, tapping your hand against shotaro’s hand on your waist. you felt his warm cum spilling out, walls now feeling empty without it and shotaro’s fingers inside as he pulled them out.

shotaro rolled you over gently, stroking your cheek as he waited for you to recover. “angel, i couldn’t get it all out because you’re still too sensitive,” he placed a kiss on your forehead, “i’m buying you a pill as soon as i can, okay?”

you pouted, mustering all your strength to grab on his hand when he stood up, “you're not thinking of leaving after fucking me senseless, right?” shotaro scrambled out a string of apologies, making you giggle.

“can you at least hug me while you apologize?”

shotaro broke into a huge adorable smile, pulling you in his arms to give you a tight squeeze. "anything you want, angel."

[technically-a-kiwi]

Universally pathetic part 3 (🌌true cosmic AU🌌)

Part 1 | Part 2

The chef comes in front of him " Don’t you want-a to say anything ? I think I heard-a you start a sentence "

Maurice cover his face with his blanket, and wishes even more for this being to leave.

The chef ponders… that’s very interesting, maybe he’ll see something if he reads his mind ?

"Get out you fat ass, can’t you see I want to be alone ?"

the mind reading worked "Fat ? Well that’s-a rude, you’re-a quite plumped yourself might I add" says the chef, hoping his brother catches onto what’s going on .

" What ? Why’s that demon talking to itself now ? This nightmare is getting weirder…" thinks Maurice, still completely silent.

" I already told-a you, I'm neither a ghost, or demon, or illusion. I am-a real ! " Says the chef.

Maurice is confused, why is that thing saying? " Wait..." He thinks, " Huh... Can... You say my name? " He thinks very clearly.

" Yes " says the chef, " you are Maurice Spaghetti, father of Maurice Spaghetti Jr, you are 55 years old, you love your-a son, money and burgers, you hate almost everything related-a to italian culture which includes pizza, pizza chefs and-a the language itself. "

" OH FUCK THAT THING CAN READ MY MIND-" Thinks Maurice, finally realizing what's going on. He rises up very quickly, completely panicked " OKAY OKAY, I'LL ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS! But please stop reading my mind ! " He says while holding his head.

" Nice-a !" Says the chef, gleaming of joy, he sits down, legs crossed on Maurice's bed. " First of all, when I called-a you pathetic, you almost said-a something, what was it ? " He asks, very curious of Maurice's answer.

" I wanted to say that it's not true and that you're an asshole" says Maurice, unfazed.

The chef frowns, " are you kidding-a me ? I can feel-a your thoughts, do you really think I can't-a tell when you're-a lying?! What did-a you REALLY want to say?! " He says, tiny flames coming out of his mouth.

Maurice jumps a little, the flames took him off guard " WOAH- Okay! Huuuh... I... Wanted to strangle you, happy !? " He says, a little triggered.

The chef is stunned, his colors going dull, he sighs and rub his eyes with his fingers " Well, looks-a like I need-a to use other methods to make you talk. " He quickly took Maurice's hand and started to bend his finger the opposite way, " go on, say the truth, only the truth. " He says, with an unfazed expression.

Maurice could feel his finger bend in an incorrect way, he tries to free himself, but no matter how much force he puts, he couldn't escape the chef's firm palm. Maurice started to seriously panic " OKAY OKAY, I WANTED TO SAY YOU'RE RIGHT !!! PLEASE LET GO !!! I BEG YOU ! "

The chef lets go, very confused... " I'm-a right? " He says, he did not expect this answer, but Maurice was telling the truth.

" you're right... I am pathetic. " Maurice says, holding his hand, " and I can't be anything more than that... ".

The chef is shocked, that was the last thing he expected to come out of his mouth... That only triggered his curiosity even more. " When-a you say that you can't-a be anymore than-a that... Does that-a mean you tried to change ?" He says, very curious of his answer, for it could define whether he won the bet or not.

Maurice stairs at the chef, he started to... Tear up ? He sighs... " I... I did, but... Oh and why am I talking about this to you ?" He says, snapping back to his regular attitude " I answered your question, you're not even real !" He says, completely fed up, he holds his head, concentrating " Come on Maurice, snap out of it !"

The chef looks angered " What ?! Nonononono, you don't-a get to do that after triggering my curiosity so much! And for the last time I AM real ! "He says flaming up.

Maurice frowns furiously " YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IS REAL?!" , he takes his alarm clock, throws it at the chef... And... Misses...

It was the last straw, Maurice jumps at the chef in an attempt to strangle him, the chef stops him in course and knocks his brother out, putting him on the floor. Maurice tries to set himself free, but the chef's hand completely glues his head on the ground.

" You should-a know better than to attack a cosmic entity, you know ? " Says the chef, talking down at his brother's actions, " now tell me, you tried-a to be better, but what happened? " He says, still quite curious about his answer.

Maurice tried to free himself, in a complete fit of rage, he squirmed back and forth, and yet he couldn't move at all. He snaps " WHY DO YOU CARE ?! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE ?! YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED?! NOTHING! I JUST CAN'T HELP BUT BE WHAT I AM ALRIGHT?! " He tears up " I TRIED TO STOP GAMBLING, I TRIED TO BE NICER, BUT I CAN'T, ALRIGHT?! I always fall back eventually... I... It never lasts... "

The chef ponders... Very intriguing..." Hum... So you try, but you can't... "

" let me go now, I answered your stupid questions..." Says Maurice, trying to hold back his tears.

The chef lets go, Maurice gets up and goes back to bed " you know what ? " He says " that's completely fine ! I'm a failure to my family, I'm a failure to myself, I'm a failure to the cosmos itself or whatever the hell you are. THAT'S FINE ! That's completely fine " he lays down and covers himself with his blanket " I'll just die of a heart failure because I can't pay my meds anymore, and the world will be better for it... "

The chef feels a little weird... That's not what he expected at all... And it's not the message he wanted to give off either... " that's... No... That's-a not what I meant at all, you're-"

He's cut short " ARE YOU DEAF ?! I SAID I ANSWERED YOUR FUCKING QUESTIONS, GET OUT ! LEAVE !" Maurice yells, completely furious.

The chef starts to float away, understanding. But before he goes... " Just-a one question, you didn't seem-a to recognize me... Do you-"

He's cut short yet again

" GET THE FUCK OUT, NOW !!!!" Yells Maurice, almost coughing his lungs out.

The chef leaves...

He goes higher, and higher, breaching through space and time.

There he was, back in the cosmic realm. He lost the bet.

But still... He's not angry at all, or frustrated... He's just... Fascinated...

All this time, he believed Maurice to be the only being in existence to never be anything else but pathetic... This Maurice tho wasn't really pathetic, he was... Miserable?

" Yeah, miserable is what I'd call you right now Italian man !"

The chef glows a blinding light as he's stunt by the host's entrance.

" GOD DAMNIT NOISE, STOP DOING-A THAT !" he yells while holding the host by the collar

" Yeaaaah no " says the host, mysteriously teleporting behind the chef " anyway, who won ? Even tho I know I did, I still want to hear you admit defeat hehe" he says pulling out a cigar out of his sleeve

The chef sighs " You won-a, Noise... I was wrong... " He says while rolling his eyes.

" YEEEES !!! " the host exclaims, throwing his cigar up in the air and glowing brighter than even " GIMME GIMME GIMME" He says while pulling out his hands, asking for his price.

" Sigh... You're unbelievable... " Says the chef, he takes of one of the host's gloves, separates it into ten pieces, then crush the pieces very firmly in his palmes.

Ten miniscule singularities formed... And after that...

BOOOOOM

The singularities expand into full universes...

" There. " Says the chef, handing the fates of the universes to the host

" YES ! " says the host, gleaming in glee " oohoho be prepared worlds, you'll be having glitter in all your breakfast for the rest of your existence hehehe..." he says looking down menacingly at the universes. " although you could have used something other than my glove... " He says, a little bumped out he lost one of his gloves...

" Noted, " says the chef, " I'll-a use one of your eyeballs next-a time ! " He says, smiling with a sarcastic grin

" This was a fantastic collaboration, " says the host while shaking the chef's hand, " have a absolutely noisy day ! See ya " he says before faiding in a cloud of smoke and glitter

The chef is left alone yet again... He rethinks of that Maurice he met... He didn't felt that intrigued about a mortal for years now...

Maybe... Hum... Maybe he'll keep an eye on him, mess around a little, after all who knows, maybe he'll see other surprises ?

Oh what is he even thinking, watch over some random man with a tear jerker story ? He's a cosmic entity, he saw far worst tragedies, he won't soften for one among many insignificant little being... But still...

Hum... Eh, why not ? Making pizzas and watching over his kids was getting a little boring anyway...

A new experience... That would be nice...

THE END

[aletheialed]

The Chief Prosecutor from overseas, Miles Edgeworth... at first, Rayfa had come here to see him for a completely different reason to the one that's taking up all of her attention now.

Honestly, she doesn't remember the man particularly well. It's no surprise - she was in such an awful state during the time that she'd spent with him that she barely gave him a second thought with everything that had been on her mind. But he'd been kind to her - she remembers that, and she'd wanted to thank him for it. There may have been other reasons for her seeking him out, too, but right now... Rayfa has forgotten about all of them for one very specific reason: the mystery that she's determined to solve.

That is to say - the question of whatever it is she's been experiencing whenever Miles Edgeworth is nearby.

If you were to put her on the spot, she'd say it feels like spiritual power. But that makes no sense. For one thing, Rayfa has never heard of a man having spiritual power! ...Though until recently, she hadn't thought that anyone from outside of Khura'in could channel spirits... and so much of what she'd believed about the spiritual world had been wrong that it would hardly surprise her to learn if she was mistaken about more. Still - it's strange enough to have made her second guess herself. Then, there's her next source of doubt - the fact that Rayfa can't even channel spirits yet herself yet. So can she really trust herself to accurately discern what she's feeling to begin with...?

To be honest, she hates it - being so unsure of herself. It brings up bad memories in her... uncomfortable feelings that she'd hoped she had finally got rid of. But that's exactly why she's so determined to figure this mystery out right now - so much so that it takes her three times until she realized her name has been called by the man she's been staring at for the past half a minute.

"Oh! Ummm...." Suddenly, Rayfa feels awfully embarrassed. Not that she has anything to be embarrassed by, of course! Her curiosity is completely reasonable, and as the future Queen of Khura'in, she is obviously one hundred percent justified of wanting to get to the bottom of this matter!

"Mr. Chief Prosecutor! Did you- say something to me just now?"

@demon-prosecuted ( starter for edgeworth! )

[wovendeath]

its not often Kaine left the company of the Clone Pack, but today was busy, and the rest of the pack was doing their own things. leaving the red and black clad spider to hang out on his own at HQ, though he wasn't big on socializing with the majority of the Society. most of them were just different flavors of Peter Parker, all of which he was sure had their own clones to deal with, why add another one to the mix?

so he heads to the gym instead, taking in the other spiders sparring or working out before heading to a machine, leaning against the wall before asking the person using it,

" How much longer till you're done? "

@vetyver-soaked-stars | Dani liked for a starter!

[beheechul]

ꜱᴏɴɢ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴇᴀꜱɪʟʏ

for @bexktaegeun

heechul hadn't been in the best mood and he was sure it had to deal with not seeing his best friend. at every chance he tried to make plans, it seemed that taegeun never had time for him. he didn't know what he had did wrong but just wanted to be around the other again. it was like he lost another part of him that didn't sit right with him at all.

now he was here at waterbomb alone, wandering around and enjoying the festivities as best as he could. he didn't wanna look like he was moping or showing others not to come near him. this was meant for fun which he wanted to have even by himself. Once at one of the food stands to order something, he hears a voice that is all too familiar.

turning his head, his eyes widen once seeing taegeun here with other people. he had told him that he wasn't going but it seem that was a lie. he was going to get to the bottom of this. no one of this dancing around each other. he makes a beeline towards the other male, a frown on his face. he taps him on the shoulder, crossing his arms instantly when he sees his face. "so, couldn't make it huh? we need to talk now." he spoke sternly, reaching out to pull the other male with him somewhere more quiet.

[daceystvrk]

closed starter for @lucius-rivers setting: on her way back to the north from king's landing, dacey stops in the riverlands and meets with her cousin.

dacey travelled slowly, if she travelled at all. she had left the north to make it to king's landing, her first time away from the lands of her own family, and expected to arrive home after the rest. it wasn't ideal, but having never been so far from home before, she didn't want to wear herself out, but did want to ensure she was making the most of her trip.

lucius rivers was not a man she knew well, but he was blood. that was what mattered to dacey. her mother's kin was a subject of curiosity for her, but she had always cared for them from afar. it made her a little nervous to be here.

swallowing her trepidation, dacey tried to still her hands, which were twisting together in her lap, and offered a tentative, but sincere smile.

"i'm sorry i didn't get to spend time with you in king's landing," she began. "i think this is better, though. i didn't care much for the city, but the riverlands is beautiful. you are lucky to call it your home."

[phoenix-flamed]

Continued from here:

Judging by the weapon his partner had at his side, Otto very much meant business. Which was even more intriguing and concerning, and this time it was more of the latter. The moment the other man turned towards him, Miles began searching his face for any clue, any indication of the severity of the situation -- fortunately, he wouldn't need to wait long for his answers.

And what answers they turned out to be.

As soon as the words Rosalith Castle left the bearded man's lips, Miles paled a shade. His entire body tensed up, pupils dilating; and for that moment, all he could hear was the frantic beating of his heart within his ears. But when Otto's composure started to slip just the slightest fraction, a sheen of wetness glimmering in his eyes, the older man snapped himself out of it, forcing back that steady, serious expression to mask the myriad emotions coursing through him.

An escaped Bearer to track down. Not just any Bearer, but Otto's own son. It was Miles who broke their eye contact, just for a few moments -- after turning his head downward, his blue-green eyes squeezed tightly closed, the furrow of his brow only deepening further. Being separated from a child was a pain he could relate to, and while his own story thus far had a bittersweet ending, in that he now knew his sons were alive, despite him lacking the courage to reveal his truth to them...

... He hoped, and prayed to Metia, that his friend and companion's story would have a happy ending. Of course, he did have questions, or curiosities rather, pertaining to Otto's past; those could wait until later, and he would wait patiently for Otto himself to be ready to divulge the information.

All too soon after, his eyes reopened, now filled with resolve for their mission -- and he nodded. "Time is indeed of the essence, if he is somewhere in Rosalith. Anabella may be gone, but there is ever a chance that her Black Shields may yet linger, or that pillagers have already descended upon the city to take advantage of the chaos."

Not to mention the fact that last he had heard, Rosalith had suffered much and more under the aggressions of Dhalmekia, as led by Hugo Kupka. But that was an entirely other matter that he didn't wish to dwell upon, when combined with everything else the city had suffered.

"But you already know these things," Miles apologized a moment later, before stepping forward to cross the gap between them and place a reassuring hand upon Otto's shoulder. "We will find him. I know the city and the castle both -- if he is still taking refuge there, rest assured that there are no places that he might hide that I am not myself aware of. Now, before we depart, were the new arrivals able to give a description of the area in which they took shelter, beyond simply near the castle? Any detail, no matter how small, will be an invaluable boon."

@hideawaysteward

[timidblues]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ @thebigshotman ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛- What a predicament she had been faced with...to be alone, scared and injured in a place she didn't even know existed. She hadn't even have the time to understand what was happening to her before she'd been sucked into this strange world, and now, here she was― all by herself in a decrepit, dark and lonely back alley, crying to herself. Though...even if her cries were sad, scared― desperate, it remained so...quiet and weak. If someone didn't pay attention, they probably wouldn't even have noticed her weeping, except from the faint tears that were running down her pretty face and staining her round glasses that were threatening to fall off her nose. Curled up and trembling, she allowed herself to express this moment of weakness, since she didn't see anyone passing by here and assumed she was alone. Or so she thought... As soon as the long haired blonde started hearing what sounded like footsteps― her subtle sobs stopped and her body froze, starting to wipe her face dry of her tears and attempting to look normal, even if the way she was huddled against the wall would give it away. She just wanted to spare herself some embarrassment...

[worldhell]

Annie knows she's awake because it's as much a hell outside as it was trapped within her own subconscious. Still it's numb. She's here, but barely. Her body had never felt so weak, never had she not been alert and cautious ... she knows what she needs to do, as a warrior, yet she's dragging along without much reasoning. Ahe wants to go home, that she knows. But, she's also tired. Unable to ignore how each step felt heavier then the last. If they had the luxury she's sure she might just go back to sleep. Then again, the thought of returning to an endless slumber kept her awake. Maybe it always would.

The end is fast approaching, but she can't find the will to care. She never had much anyway.

At his approach, Annie barely lifts her head ... when had he arrived? How long was he standing there? She can't recall. It should have surprised her, and yet, there's nothing in her that recoils, doesn't jump at the shock she should have felt. Armin, huh. The early memories of him are less vibrant to her in comparison to the familiarity of the voice she'd become accustomed to over the years. Darkness ... and then, his voice. A cruel irony in it's own way. The greatest mistake she'd made was not killing him, time and time again. Yet, she clung to those visits like a lifeline.

“ You don't need to talk to me anymore. ” When she finally speaks, it's matter of fact. There's no ill-will towards him, barely any left for most of them. No. She doesn't really care what happens anymore; but, she'll do what is needed of her, like she always had done before. And, if this shitty world allowed it, maybe she would see her father again.

Gaze flickers towards him briefly before staring off into the distance, never setting her sights on anything inparticular. “ Though I suppose even you wouldn't have known I'd be able to hear you. Otherwise, it's not very smart of you to talk so openly to the enemy. ”

@witswords ➼ starter call.

[more-than-a-princess]

Closed, plotted starter for @quickdeaths !

With a frustrated groan, Sonia yanked open the double doors to the Jabberwock Island's movie theater. The third island, barring the hospital, was a mostly quiet, deserted sort of place: the majority of their day-to-day activities were confined to the main and second islands. So she had expected to have one of the three places she could most often be found on the collection of islands that made up Jabberwock to herself.

Crossing over the threshold and greeted by the faint scents of mold, caramel, and curry, she was in desperate need of it. Each week, the awakened and healthy (at least moderately: they could clean, feed, and dress themselves) former remnants were assigned meeting times with a member of the Future Foundation. What amounted to be part-therapist, part-guidance counselor, the Future Foundation were meant to advise them on how to navigate the state of the world, cope with the atrocities they'd committed virtually and in reality, and come up with a plan for after Jabberwock Island. While in theory the option was there, to live their lives out on a secluded island for the rest of their days, the Future Foundation could not assist them indefinitely. Supplies would become scarce and help would be nearly non-existent: it was better, they thought, that the former Remnants of Despair be instilled in society and begin repaying their debts and embark on the most normal lives they could possibly have.

Everyone, it seemed, except Sonia.

"Who does he think he is, the head and final say of the entire organization!?" She spat to no one in particular. "He never actually considers that I might be an asset to the Future Foundation's operations." Letting the doors slam shut behind her, she glared down at the paper in her hands before tearing it into strips, crumpling them into a ball, and throwing it into the rubbish bin. It was excessive, yes, but she didn't often have a vehicle to exhibit how much she despised her weekly sessions. Each Remnant was paired with a member of the Future Foundation for the duration of their stay, and it was Sonia's utter misfortune that, apparently, only Byakuya Togami could stomach dealing with her. Aoi Asahina had been too soft-hearted, taking pity on the former princess and her reliance on various substances, her insomnia, and how useless she felt at anything beyond being royalty. Kyoko Kirigiri had given up when she hadn't been able to reason with her, and Makoto Naegi was often too busy to speak to any of the Remnants besides Hajime.

In turn, that left only Byakuya Togami. Seemingly devoid of a proper beating heart in favor of efficiency, duty, and responsibility, he was the only one willing to chastise Sonia for her habits and unwillingness to embrace what she was: Queen of Novoselic. He was also the only one to, time and time again, deny her requests to join the Future Foundation. The crumpled-up ball of paper strips had been the most recent incarnation, where she had detailed the various services she had to offer the organization: translation, interpreting, a vast knowledge of law and economics, leadership experience. Anything that involved her not being sent back to Novoselic.

Something that, no matter how hard she pleaded her case, the Future Foundation insisted there was no place for her. Fuyuhiko, she heard, had experienced the same, though he seemed to accept it. But she was adamant: she was certain that sending her back to Novoselic would be sending her to her death, if the news reports from Europe were anything to go by. She would've gladly signed away all of her family's wealth to those already there, looking to rebuild, but the constant reminder that it wasn't just money, it was guidance and an understanding of how the nation was run, was crucial. Frankly, Sonia didn't think any amount of guidance would be useful if there were daily protests demanding the Future Foundation deliver her home, or at least her severed head.

Beyond the threat of her own life, she had her reasons: the reason being, apparently, very close to awakening from his pod. Torn between anger and anxiety, she'd decided upon the few things that could distract her in a state of sobriety: a film in the theater, a visit to the library, and something terribly indulgent from the Hotel Mirai kitchens, in precisely that order.

What she didn't expect was that she wasn't alone. Traipsing up the stairs to the projection room for the theater's sole screen, she stopped short at the doorway: Yaguchi, either selecting one of the reels from the shelves or debating about how to put it in the projector.

"Y-Yaguchi," Sonia half-stammered, half-coughed. There would be little she could do to hide how she'd flung the door open with a firm slam, her hands in balled, clenched fists, or her brows that, for the past hour at least, appeared to be permanently furrowed into an irritated expression. "I am sorry, I did not know someone was intending to use the theater. No one really comes here, especially during the day. I can find a film on disc in the library to take back to my cabin instead, so you may watch your film in peace."

Peace was precisely the last thing she felt, anyway. But she'd find something to lose herself in, so that, for a little while at least, she wouldn't scream something she didn't mean to the entire Future Foundation. "If you need assistance with the projector though, I can help you," She sighed. She'd turned her heel and then remembered that, out of everyone, only she and Hajime had figured out how to set up the reels precisely, to best preserve the film inside. "You will not be able to watch any of the films in this theater otherwise."

[lapismuses]

@ascheming liked for a starter!

The aftermath of Mandroid's attempt to shut down all Cybertronian life of the planet was.. messy. There were far too many things going through everyone's minds- Nightshade along with them.

The Terran found themselves perching on a small cliff near the Malto house. Well, what was left of it, anyway. The day's events had been... A lot to process. Nightshade idly picked at their hands, optics staring up at the night sky. Everyone else was taking time to spend the night with their loved ones, but Nightshade knew their siblings and parents understood their need to distance themself. Being in large groups after an already over stimulating day? It was too much.

Robby's and Mo's healing powers may have fixed the visible injuries, but Nightshade found themselves still hurting from the mental ones. The thought of losing everyone? Of being the last of their family?

The Terran let out a soft sigh. The familiar sound of a jet engine alerted them to a new presence. They shifted, helm tilting as they peered Starscream. "Starscream," they greeted, softly. "I figured you'd be celebrating with Hashtag and the others. What brings you up here?" Perhaps the Seeker had similar feelings of being overwhelmed by so many people in one area?

[supraxstcllas]

@autobotmedic

the transition from frontlines to Griffin Rock has been difficult for the Autobots. after their base was discovered and destroyed by the Decepticons, they had scattered in order to keep themselves safe but at the cost of losing whatever connection they had to each other. with the comms down, no one on Griffin Rock knew what happened… until Bumblebee appeared on their doorstep, tired and distressed, with his human partner in tow.

it took a lot of talking and planning, but the rescue bots were open to the idea of the Autobots using their bunker as a temporary base of operations, at least until they could regroup and hash out what to do. with approval from Chief Burns, they sent pings out to the other Autobots, heavily encrypted and hidden from Decepticon receptors, leading them to their island. slowly but surely, the other Autobots trickled in, and were given sanctuary by the people and bots living there.

it was another quiet night in Griffin Rock, no emergencies in the last few days had left their guests time to recover in peace. but it was clear none of them were used to it; most would startle easily at any sudden noises, or would pace across the bunker to keep themselves busy. Blades had noticed that Ratchet would stick to the monitor room, keeping the channels open for any sign of Optimus. the helibot poked his head into the room, not having seen the other medic come out for some time, and he was worried about him.

with a little cough, Blades tries to get the other's attention, wringing his servos together as he spoke,

" Um... Everything alright in here? Do you need anything, um.. Sir? "

[angclnumber]

CLOSED STARTER FOR: @seolinah ! BASED ON: this plot ( the sixth plot specifically ) !

"IT'S ABSOLUTELY FUCKED THAT IT CAN JUST ... COME BACK ." flick fumbles to say, her face pinched as she looks at the expanse of their old town . nothing has changed . how is it nothing has changed ? it's been years .despite being back all of three seconds, flick already feels deeply smothered . she spots just a glimpse of her family's motel through the car window and swears she feels her throat get tight . "how can it just come back ? we killed it ." flick reiterates, glancing at them and seeing part of the kid she used to know and part someone else entirely . she hesitates . "right ?"