#sirius plays the piano

[odillisea]

What instrument each marauder would play according to me and @whoahtherepal:

Regulus: Violin. First desk, first seat. Concert master and a fucking prat about it. Probably grew up playing piano and switched to violin later, and is the biggest sweat in the orchestra. No one wants to be first desk with him because he doesn’t have perfect pitch but he’ll still know and make sure to tell you when you play slightly out of tune

Marlene: Trumpet obviously. She’s the most stereotypical trumpet player ever

Lily: Bassoon, and she would be the biggest oboe hater as well because apparently double reed friendly fire is turned off. She could also maybe play euphonium but maybe that’s just because euphonium is a very gryffindor coded instrument

James: Oboe. Also later picked up alto sax and established himself as Terrible And Annoying but constantly playing Careless Whisper at any and every given moment. Possibly also trombone just because he likes the slide

Remus: Electric bass. He would mainly play it in a cover band with friends and does not give a shit about school band. He’s only there because James insisted (and because a certain heir of Black is there). Also even if it isn’t technically an ensemble instrument there is literally nothing else that he could possibly be and also we have an electric bass in our band. I’m so serious we thought about it for so long and there is actually nothing

Evan: Cello. Loves the instrument and initially picked it because Barty really wanted him to be the last member of his string quartet with Regulus and Dorcas

Peter: Flute. Not as invested in music as the rest of his friends but loves it nonetheless.

Mary: Viola. She wanted to learn violin but then she heard it and decided it was too squeaky and high pitched and liked the lower sound of the viola more. Wants to start a wind instrument so she can be with Lily and Marlene, but can’t decide on one and loves viola anyway

Pandora: Clarinet and harp as her main instruments but she also used to learn piano and still plays it from time to time

Barty: Percussion because pent up anger issues. Except he’s the craziest tryhard at so he would also play violin, viola, double bass, trumpet, flute, clarinet, and tuba. He’s that one guy that can play anything, but he would NOT be cooperative about it. The second that there’s other percussionists there he would ditch and go pick a random section to play with, but if he’s asked to help fill in to help with any missing parts he activates stubborn fucker mode and goes anywhere but where the conductor wants him

Dorcas: Euphonium and violin. First violin because she’s good but also the only one that regulus won’t be a prick to

Sirius: Flute. Sirius was actually so difficult because he’s such an electric guitar player, but we were trying to do this based off school band/orchestra, so this was our best attempt. He too would’ve been forced to play piano when he was younger like Regulus, and also would’ve had to pick a second instrument when he was older. Out of the instruments that his parents gave him the option of, the only non string instruments were flute and clarinet, so he went with flute. He wanted a wind instrument so he could be as loud and raucous on his instrument as possible, and decided flute over clarinet because it “fit his vibe more” (he saw punks out on the street with silver studs and spikes and jewellery and thought a silver instrument was close enough). He doesn’t really like typical band music though, and does not like school band one bit. He would be more the type of flute player that does solos in a jazz ensemble and somehow manages to fucking shred on the flute and sounds fantastic every time.

[valeriearmani1]

sirius playing the piano in the shrieking shack for remus before and after his transformation

[kingstarkingslay]

Platonic Moonwater Headcannon

Remus was the first friend Regulus made when he joined Hogwarts. Remus knew Sirius and Regulus weren’t on speaking terms ever since Sirius got sorted into Gryffindor and about the abuse the both of them experience at home so he takes the first chance he can get to befriend Regulus. The both of them get along really easily cause they both have a lot of common interests, majorly in books but Regulus only knows wizarding books so Remus starts introducing him to muggle books - literature and poetry. Regulus absolutely falls in love with them and they spend hours talking about them. They’d share notes on them.By now Sirius knows that the reason why Remus spends so much time in the library is cause he’s hanging out with his brother and he loves it cause now he knows his brother is in safe hands. Plus this gives him the chance to keep tabs on his brother through Remus.

Remus and Regulus start confiding in each other. In fact Regulus was the first one to know about Remus’s crush on Sirius. Remus finds out that Regulus loves playing the piano even though it was something his parents forced him to learn and that they actually have a Grand Piano back at Grimmauld Place but Regulus only knows Wizarding Piano Compositions cause that’s what his tutors taught him and you know what his family thinks about muggles….. so Remus then starts researching everything he can about Muggle composers- Beethoven and Mozart, Tchaikovsky and Bach , and he tells Regulus all about them. Once during the holidays Remus found a book called “ The Greatest Pianists ” at a bookstore so he buys it and brings it back with him to Hogwarts and lends Regulus the book, promising him that next time he’d look for a book with piano pieces ( or music sheets ) in them so that Regulus could maybe learn Muggle compositions.

But Regulus never got to return The Greatest Pianists because that was the year Sirius ran away and after that Regulus closed up completely. He stopped hanging out with Remus because of his anger at Sirius, even though he really missed his time with Remus. Remus knew Regulus was avoiding him but he didn’t push it cause he knew the younger Black brother was in pain.

So whenever Regulus was back at Grimmauld Place , he’d lock his bedroom door, take the book out of the little secret compartment he had on the floor under his bed and read it and cry cause he missed Remus. He missed being able to talk to him and spend his time with him. So he’d cry over all the people he pushed outta his life.

But then the letters started coming.

Letters written in a familiar handwriting.

Remus’s handwriting.

In the envelope were two pieces of paper.

One was a small piece of paper with the words “ I thought you’d find these interesting ” written in Remus’s handwriting.

And the other- A music sheet to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata

Regulus immediately runs to the Grand Piano , rests the music sheet on the piano rack and starts playing the piece. By the time he’s done with it he’s in tears.

The letters don’t stop. Everyday during the holidays he wakes up to an owl dropping a different music sheet on his table and he’s rush to his piano and start playing them. By the end of the day he’d have learnt the piece by heart and could play it without looking at the music sheet.

His parents never found out about the letters cause Remus never signed his name on any of them.

More importantly, the letters were hidden in that secret compartment under his bed, folded neatly in between the pages of The Greatest Pianists.

[starcrossedbrothers]

Infinite Intermission

Black Brothers Angst | Chapter 1/3

So focused on the noise of the city, it takes Sirius a while to hear it, and when he does he startles so sharply that he drops his cigarette in his lap, immediately jumping to his feet and vanishing it between curses. When he stops and goes quiet, it’s still there, soft in the background. A quiet piano melody. Chopin, he recalls without thinking. One of the Nocturnes, in a minor key. He peers into the darkness. “Reg?” he whispers, feeling insane, out of his mind, knowing very well that no one’s there but still, he hears it. “Regulus?”

Or: Sirius coming to terms with Regulus' death. Three snapshots across seventeen years, all accompanied by the piano.

[touchlikethesun]

🎶period accurate spotify playlists, part 1

these are just my own headcanons for what music i think they all would listen to, if they had spotify back in the 70s.

i'd love to hear thoughts, if you agree, disagree, or think i should add any songs!

sirius: glam rock: bowie, queen, and t.rex. classic, vibey, with just a hint of gender.

remus: british punk: ian dury, the clash, x-ray specs. anger, anti-conformism, and activism. a little bit sexy, or so thinks sirius.

james: mostly prog rock: supertramp, electric light orchestra, and stealers wheel. what i would consider dad rock, easy to sing and dance to.

regulus: soft oldies: chet baker, edith piaf, and the platters. love songs with jazzy instrumentals and strong vocals. it's nostalgic to him. no one but james has even seen his music collection.

[solitaire-sol]

13: Pupil

For: @prongsfoot-microfic

Month: March 2023

AO3: Link

Notes: Sequel to 10: Hope, in which we see how Sirius and Walburga are handling the whole ‘James and Sirius are soulmates’ thing.

“Mother,” Sirius began, looking up from the music he’d long since memorized. “May I--”

“Sirius,” Walburga rebuked, with a distinct lack of patience in her tone. “We know better than to ask when the answer is known.”

Sirius subsided, as he inevitably did when faced with his mother's censure, and returned his gaze to the piano. Orion Black was head of House, but little inclined to the raising of children; Walburga refused to trust the upbringing of their eldest son, their heir, to anyone but herself, so Sirius had grown up under his mother's exacting eye. It would have been a trial for any child - young Regulus had already been relegated to the care of nurses and house-elves - but Sirius was as bright as his namesake and Walburga was determined to polish him until he shown. Such light would only reflect well on the vaunted House of Black.

Until recently, Walburga would have considered Sirius the perfect child, for Sirius was more hers than his father's: He had the beginnings of Orion's sharp features and seemed inclined towards a similar stature, but Sirius' luminous eyes and porcelain skin presaged his mother's famous beauty, and the sharp mind and sharper tongue that inhabited his childish body was an immature mirror of Walburga's. It made him a handful, her Sirius, already so willful, but he had learned decorum well and he respected his mother, so she had little cause to be displeased with his conduct.

That is, at least, how things had been until that dreadful party, until those soft-hearted blood-traitors and their ill-mannered offspring. Walburga had scoured every book in the Black family library for some way to rid her son of that... that wretched excuse for a “bond,” which already had a negative effect on Sirius: For the first time, Sirius had not accepted Walburga's decision as fait accompli. He hadn't thrown a tantrum, but the fact that he kept asking to see the Potter boy was rebellion enough, and there was a look about him each time that said he was well aware of it.

It was a thorn in Walburga's side, the idea that some stranger's child could hold more sway over Sirius than his own mother. No, Walburga thought, as Sirius returned to his piano lessons, this would not do. Walburga had planned Sirius' future long before his birth: He would be brilliant, the chief diamond in her coronet, prestigious in title and fortuitous in wife, carrying the name and blood of Black into the future.

All she had to do was keep them apart. The bond, without reinforcement, would wither; Sirius would think of him less often, his so-called soulmate, and the remnants of that connection would fall away, leaving Sirius free to be Walburga’s prized protégé and favored son.

Walburga smiled to herself, satisfied, and allowed herself to enjoy the elegiac notes Sirius coaxed from the piano. Sirius didn’t ask about James again, but his thoughts still lingered on a warm hand and hazel eyes.

[pretentiouswreckingball]

I’m rewatching my comfort movie (la la land) and I know my bday boy would LOVE this film and would cry every time with the ending.

[dorlilymylovesss]

Regulus is very spoiled

Sirius and Andromeda, who carry him around and buy him whatever he wants, Narcissa, who lets him borrow books from her personal library even though no one else is usually allowed to touch them.

belatrix, who teaches him to play the piano and shows him her soft side, which she rarely shows.

Regulus is their favorite, so he's grown up to be a bratty, hard-to-please guy

[luveline]

Can you write where the reader walks into James room and he's crying and its the first time shes seen him cry so she comforts him pls xx

thank you for your request! fem, 1.2k

James’ house is a sanctuary to everyone he’s ever met. There are scratches on the wall by the door where Sirius has thrown it open, long deep welts of ruin under a drunken hand, two best friends laughing to the bedroom where they share a bed. You’re used to Sirius by now, an extension of James you love and make room for, but waking up to the heir of the most noble family in London sleeping off a hangover with his face buried in your boyfriend's shoulder still surprises you. His snores never change. 

Then there’s Remus, the sweetheart, tracking dirt into the living room because he so often forgets he’s wearing shoes, distracted by a book or a thought he shares in half smiles knowing James will listen. 

You’re everywhere. In photos like the rest of them, in your coat on the hook, your clean washing on the stairs, your shoes in the bedroom cupboard. There’s a red smudge of your lipstick on the wall at the top of the stairs where James wiped your bottom lip and then used the wall to hang over you, kissing. He keeps meaning to paint over it, you know. He says the same thing every time you bring it up, a laughing, “I’ll get to it, you thing!” 

You’re used to smiles and sounds here. You aren’t acquainted with this. Sniffles from the bedroom, long, stringing gulps of air and the answering sob. It makes your chest flip. James hasn’t cried in front of you in a year of dating and two years of knowing him. James doesn’t even get pissed off unless it’s for somebody else. Something awful must’ve happened. You rush to find out what. 

In the bedroom, James is just sitting there falling apart. Just, sat on the bed, his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking like an awful jagged up and down, like he’s hurting; the shock of it is in every inch of movement. James is beautiful in everything, skin and hands and dark, dark hair, but he’s hurting now as he drags fingers wet with tears through frizzing curls. He must have heard you coming up but he can’t stop, lifting his chin, an apology twisted in his mouth that he doesn’t say aloud. 

“Lovely, what happened?” you ask, sure you’re gonna fall through the floor. “What happened? What–”

You aren’t giving him time to answer. You need to know. 

“No, it’s alright–”

“It’s not alright,” you say, standing in front of him with stiff arms. “What happened, James?” 

“It’s okay.” He cries a little, sniffs, looking up at you with swimming eyes. “It’s alright, I’m just– it’s just– well, it’s just everything, I suppose, but it’s…” He looks down, his mouth twisting again in an apology you don’t want to take. He shakes himself. 

“James, what’s everything?” 

“Silly stuff.” James takes your hand. Telling, that a boy who’s spent his entire life looking after the people he loves would attempt to comfort you with tears still hot on his cheeks. 

You look down at his long fingers. 

James plays piano. He learned your favourite song for you before he’d ever asked you out, and when he’d played it for you, he’d played so beautifully you felt sick for days, felt sick every time you thought of him, but in the moment he’d laughed at your teary eyes and pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. Lovely girl, he’d said, laughing, I won’t play it again if you’re gonna cry like that.

You figure he must want comfort as he gives it, wrapping your arms around him to steer him toward a soft kiss, his hair like strands of satin under your lips. “Nothing that upsets you like this could ever be silly.” 

He pushes you away. Not without love, but pushing away regardless. He stands in the space you leave and wipes his cheeks with the backs of his hands. It’s nearly like he’s dancing. Just the way his arms move. But then he drops them and turns away from you, your heart plummeting to your stomach. 

“James.” 

“It’s not like that. I was hoping I’d be done before you got home. Should we go out for dinner or something?” 

“James–”

“What?” he asks, smiling, at odds with his sad eyes. “Love, it’s really fine, I’m fine.” Love. You let out a long breath, chest a cold ache slowly warmed by his gaze. There’s care for you in every eyelash, but it still shocks you when he hugs you. “It’s okay. Sorry I scared you.” 

James. “Fucking hell, Jamie, I’m not scared, I want you to tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it for you.”

He chokes on breath. “I’m fine,” he says. He doesn’t believe it himself, a crack running straight through his words. “Sorry,” he says, sickly, kissing the top of your head as you’d kissed his. 

Clearly he’s not going to let you be the one domineering the situation, but that’s okay. He can kiss your head and hold you on the edge of too tight. You slip a hand under the edge of his T-shirt to stroke his back, until your hand is numb to it, and he’s sagging against you heavily. 

“You’re really not fine, I can see that much.” 

He’s quiet, but you can tell there’s something he wants to say. 

“But that’s okay,” you say, hand clasping his back . You pat a steady rhythm there as he sighs. “It really is. I don’t know why you think you have to be finished crying before I get home, but that’s not true. You can cry. You can cry buckets. Please don’t pretend you’re not upset because of me, I’d feel so bad.”

Something hot and wet touches your forehead. “M’sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for.” You pull back to pat his cheek. 

James stares at you. Tears well in usually warm eyes and get caught in the wet hedge of his lashes. You try to wipe them away before they can fall —you don’t wanna see your sweetheart crying. 

“Don’t frown,” he says softly. 

“I’m trying not to. Here, let me,” —you wipe his cheeks with your sleeve, voice a muttering thing as his skin pinks beneath your touch— “just get that there for you. Your eyes are red, Jamie, I hope you haven’t been upset for too long.” 

“No, uh. No, not too long.” 

“Can you please tell me what’s wrong? I’d like to know.” 

James’ face presses to your neck in seconds. He pauses, and then he sobs. That’s more like it. You stand there in the bedroom until your legs are stiff, and then you only move to lay him down in bed to be your little spoon. “It's not fine,” you say, your arm around him, the other playing in the swirl of his parting, “but it will be. You’re really too handsome for all these tears.”

“You think I’m handsome?”

He sounds sweet when he’s trying to make you laugh. You reach over him to kiss his hot cheek.  

[ellecdc]

part II - Pretty Woman

slow burn poly!wolfstar Pretty Woman (1990) au: established wolfstar, escort!reader, side jegulily, eventual dorlene, political heist-type situation, depictions and descriptions of sex-work

I // II

CW: financial insecurity, Sirius money-is-no-object Black, sugar babe vibes, brief mention of Black family [3.1k words]

link to series masterlist

The words on the page before you began to blur and melt as you watched the way the shadows of the leaves danced across them; the canopy of trees above your fire-escape-turned-balcony swaying in the gentle breeze and providing you with broken bits of shade. 

You almost laughed that out of the two documents Sirius had sent you home with, the legal NDA was rather easy to read through and already signed, sitting safely on your bedside table for your next meeting. 

You were having a harder time with the second document; one that you were supposed to replicate for him.

‘About Me’ it read. And it was - about Sirius, that is. Everything that a long-term girlfriend soon-to-be fiance hopefully one day wife should know.

His favourite colour is black, but there was someone else's font beside it that read “this doesn’t count, Sirius”, to which what you could only assume was Sirius’ scrawl wrote “bloody hell, fine, blue then.” His birthday is November 3rd. He’s a dog person, but Remus likes cats so he thinks he’ll likely have to cave one day and get him a cat. That note made you smile. He wanted to study art history (someone wrote the word ‘nerd’ beside that) but his parents didn’t approve, so he studied architectural design instead. He listed the Godfather as his favourite movie, but when someone wrote ‘liar’ he wrote ‘FINE. It's the 1999 made for TV version of Annie with Kathy Bates’. He’s afraid of spiders, he drinks both his coffee and tea sickly sweet - his favourite drink being a salted caramel latte, he played rugby with James growing up but quit when he decided he didn’t actually like being beaten about for sport. He left out the ‘when I was already being beaten about at home’, but you read it for what it was anyway. He can play piano but hates it, he can play the guitar less well but loves it. He’s littered in tattoos, most can be hidden under dress shirts and such, but there’s one that trails just a little too high up on his neck and a few on his hands. His favourite meal is Remus’ mum’s shepherd's pie, but the Ritz room service always made a really good baked mac and cheese.

You snorted as you threw your head back against the railing behind you - your bum growing numb from sitting on the wrought-iron bars of the fire escape - at the thought of Sirius Black sitting in a premium suite in one of the world’s poshest hotels and ordering macaroni and cheese to his room from a michelin star restaurant. 

What the fuck have I gotten myself into? You wondered wryly as you stood and forced the jammed window to your bedroom back open and crawled through. 

Sirius had offered to pick you up, but you had insisted you would meet him at the mall. Well, actually, Sirius had first offered to transfer you some money to buy a cocktail dress for dinner at his Uncle Alphard’s tomorrow night, but when you’d gone so quiet on the phone that Sirius actually pulled it away from his face to ensure the two of you were still connected, he’d offered to take you instead. 

The dinner at Alphard’s would be a good segway into the Black family nonsense; Alphard’s house would be neutral territory, his parents and other aunts and uncles would be there, but it wouldn’t be their domain. And there would also be Andromeda, her husband Ted, and of course Uncle Alphard to act as buffers.

But that’s not what had Sirius feeling so uncharacteristically nervous right now. He felt silly, sitting here at the Starbucks with sweaty hands as he considered buying a second latte. 

Yeah, he thought wryly, that’s exactly what you need - more caffeine, as if you aren’t already shaky enough. 

Sirius hadn’t felt this anxious since he’d asked Remus out on an actual date back in school. He supposed in many ways, this was a first date of sorts. A first date with the woman who was going to help him bring down his family and all the hate they stood for, with the woman who was going to be accompanying him to events with some of the worst people he knew, the woman who he was going to propose to, who he’d have to bloody marry at some point; blimey what did he get himself into? 

Thankfully you chose that moment to show up, saving Sirius from any further spiralling as he stood so quickly that he almost knocked the small bistro table clean over. 

“Hullo! Fuckin’ hell. Hi!” He stuttered awkwardly as he caught the table and righted his nearly finished coffee.

“Hi.” You murmured softly with a matching smile.

“Hi.” Sirius said again, wiping his hands on his trousers and smiling back at you. 

“Hi.” You repeated; smile growing into a cheekier smirk as you watched him botch this. 

“Great, awesome.” Sirius said with a smile. “You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you.” You laughed.

“Oh, and now you’re lying to me.”

You shook your head and looked down at your feet. Sirius wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting when he hired an escort, but he found he was surprised by how plain a lot of your wardrobe seemed to be. Granted he had only met you twice, but from those two times it had become clear to him that when you weren’t working, you preferred to be nondescript. Classic tees, shirts, and blouses, and denim or, in today’s case, corduroys; you looked vintage and casual, put together in a way without looking like you tried too hard. Though, once again, you were only as nondescript as any pretty woman could be, and he was sure that anyone even remotely attracted to women would absolutely spare you a second glance - corduroys or otherwise. 

But he couldn’t help but admit - at least to himself -  that he was a little bit excited at the prospect of getting to dress you up. 

“Are you- do you want a drink?” Sirius asked as he gestured towards the Starbucks behind him, nearly taking out an errant shopper with his hand causing him to have to call out a hasty apology. 

“Oh, uhm, no, no. I’m good, thank you though.” You declined quickly as you hiked your purse further up on your shoulder, though you were eyeing the store with intrigue.

Ah, Sirius thought to himself, allergic to spending money - I know a thing or two about your type. 

“Listen, gorgeous, we’re going to be spending a lot of money today, so you’d be better to start with something small to ease yourself into it.” He quipped.

He’d been going for light and breezy - even shooting you a cheeky wink - but you seemed to blanche at that. 

“I’m… I don’t have much on me, Sirius…” You started, and Sirius fought the urge to wince at his faux pas.

“My money, doll; we’re going to be spending a lot of my money.” 

“I-”

“It’s number six.”

You turned away from the coffee shop to look at him in bemusement. “What?”

“Number six, how you take your tea and coffee; your favourite drink.” He explained. “Mine’s a salted caramel latte. What’s yours?” 

You took a deep breath as you searched his eyes for a few moments before turning back towards the drink menu. “Are you getting something?”

“I was considering getting a second.” Sirius allowed as he nodded towards his forgotten cup.

“I’ll get it, then.” You offered, and made your way into the shop before Sirius could even respond, returning a few moments later with a salted caramel latte for Sirius and some kind of sweet looking cold brew for yourself. 

“Thank you.” He offered as he accepted the drink from your grasp; your name scrawled prettily on the side of the cup. 

“Don’t mention it.” You whispered back as you took a sip of your own.

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

“What about this one?” Sirius asked for what had to have been the thirteenth time in this store alone as he held up a garment for you to consider. 

You barely spared the dress a half a glance before you were reaching to the sleeve - not coincidentally where the price tag was.

“Would you stop checking the price?” He hissed as he gently swatted your hand away. “Do you like this dress?” 

You made a helpless sound in the back of your throat as you looked between him and the dress again. “I don’t know, Sirius, I- it’s not something I’d ever buy for myself.”

Sirius sighed as he returned the dress to the rack and gave you a Look™. “I do not mean any offence, doll, but I think that’s sort of the point.” He offered softly.

You groaned miserably and cradled your face in your hands. “I’m sorry - I’m being terribly difficult.” 

“You’re not being terribly difficult.” Sirius appeased, waiting for you to peek at him through your fingers. “Only mildly.”

You groaned again but allowed your hands to fall away from your face to land on your hips as you considered the rack in front of you. Your bottom lip dimpled as if you were chewing on the inside of your lip as you turned to a rack behind you that the two of you (read: Sirius) had been looking through moments ago and sifted through it again.  

“That would be a nice colour on you.” He offered as you paused on a dress. You kept your face pointed towards the dress but looked up at him through your eyelashes before pulling the dress out and holding it up against him.

“Now, I don’t know what you think you know about my family, but generally, I save my dress wearing for when I’m in the privacy of my own home or at a very specific bar.”

Sirius watched as your nose crinkled before you were dropping the garment and lowering your chin to your chest in an attempt to hide your snickering; Sirius momentarily wished you wouldn’t. 

“I didn’t mean for you,” you chided through a giggle as you held the dress back up against him; he didn’t argue this time, “I was checking to see if the colour looks good on you as well.”

Sirius found his cheeks flaming hot as the question ‘and does it?’ settled on the tip of his tongue. But, like the fucking prat he is, all he managed to spit out was “of course it does, I look good in everything.” 

You rolled your eyes good naturedly and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like ‘git’  under your breath before nodding once. “I think I’ll get this one, then.”

“Great job.” He said as he swiped the dress from you and folded it over his arm. “Now pick three more and then we can head to the next store.”

“Thre- next store? Sirius, I-”

“I told you we were spending a lot of money today, Y/N, I meant it.” He said simply as he encouraged you forward by the small of your back. You sounded as though you were going to say something but acquiesced when he patted your hip twice before pulling his hand away from you. 

“You don’t wear a lot of colour, I’ve noticed.” Sirius offered, swinging the bags he was carrying casually in his hands as the two of you slowly made your way through the mall after purchasing shoes ‘to go with the dresses, doll’ and even some sodding bags ‘think of it as an investment, gorgeous; you’re an employee, and working for me comes with a uniform. I’m providing you with a uniform’. 

You looked at him sideways as you continued walking, trying to ignore the feeling of everyone doing double takes to see a girl looking so plain with designer bags in her hands and a certified adonis by her side. If he hadn’t told you his favourite colour was black, you would have guessed as much just from the sheer amount of it he wore. But whereas you wore a fair amount of black in an attempt to disappear - to blend in - he seemed to do it to make his own statement; it stood out in stark contrast against his fair skin, and depending on what he was wearing, complimented his many (visible) tattoos nicely. It also left his eyes - a grey blue - appearing that much more brilliantly bright and striking.

All this to say, he wasn’t one to talk.

“No…” You allowed. “Neither do you, though.”

“Touche.” He offered you with a wink - or, what you were sure was a wink - behind his sunglasses as the window-pane roof let in an unusual amount of sunlight for this time of year in the UK. “Why don’t you, though?”

You sighed as you stepped onto the escalator going down and redistributed your bags in your hands instead of answering right away. “I get looked at more than I’d like to already.” You admitted quietly. “I… I get enough attention, I don’t need to garner any more.”

You weren’t looking at Sirius but you could feel his gaze on you before he nodded his head in your periphery. “I get that, I think. Growing up in a political family came with a lot of attention. Then being the runaway, then playing the poster child again.”

You hummed an acknowledgement. “You seem to lean into it, though?” You hadn’t meant it to be offensive, but when Sirius’ mouth opened in a disbelieving laugh, your stomach dropped. “Not- no, I’m- that’s not what I-”

“Relax, babe. I get it.” He waved you off as the two of you stepped off the escalator. “It’s true; I always sort of figured, they’re looking at me anyways, you know? Might as well give them something to talk about.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, only breaking it to apologise when one of you brushed against the other with one of the many bags adorning your hands.

“Where’d you park?” Sirius asked as the two of you stepped out into the daylight. Fuck, you hadn’t thought this through.

You were expecting to shop for maybe one dress for tomorrow’s dinner, and you were planning to shove the garment into your purse for the train ride back home. There was simply no way you could manage public transport with this many bags, and the chances of you being mugged on your way increased significantly for every designer bag you had. 

You wondered if the clothes would even be safe in your flat at all, knowing the only locks that you trusted were the chain bolted to the front door that you installed yourself, and the piece of wood you jammed in your window at the fire escape so no one could open it from the outside. 

“Y/N?”

“No. Uhm, sorry.” You started, looking towards Sirius but not necessarily at him. “Actually, I’m- well, do you think I could keep them at your place? I…I don’t- I don’t necessarily want my neighbours knowing I have this kind of stuff in my flat.”

Sirius’ eyes softened and you felt a little guilty at the half truth, but soldiered on. “I’d just hate to come home from work one day to find it all missing, you know?” You tried to joke. 

You swore Sirius’ mouth pinched slightly before he schooled his expression and redistributed the bags he was currently holding into one hand and held out his free one to take yours. 

“Oh! I could help-”

“That’s alright, doll, I’ve got it.” He said as he relinquished your bags from you. “Tomorrow, then? I assume you’ll be getting ready at my place? Do you want a ride?”

“No! No, that’s alright, I’ll meet you there if you just want to send me your address.” 

The two of you said goodbye and you watched Sirius walk through the car park until he disappeared behind a row of vehicles, and you stepped back into the mall to wait for the next train that didn’t come for another 45 minutes. 

Sirius let out a breath as he closed the door to his and Remus’ townhouse behind him; the sounds of the London streets melting away to the odd honk or occasional car door closing as he began searching their home.

He needn’t search long, however, finding Remus exactly where he knew he would be.

”Did’ya have a good day?” Remus asked without looking up from the potatoes he was peeling, though he did turn his face slightly to reciprocate the kiss Sirius pressed to his cheek. 

“Yeah, not bad.” Sirius agreed in an exhale as he disposed of the many shopping bags onto the kitchen island.

Remus opened his mouth as he turned - no doubt about to scold Sirius for messing up his clean kitchen - when his face pinched in confusion.

”I thought you were going shopping for Y/N?” 

“We did.”

”Sirius!”

”Remus.” Sirius shot back as he made himself comfortable on one of the high stools.

”You’re going to scare her away.” Remus muttered as he washed and dried his hands before coming over to peek inside of the bags, pulling the documents you had returned to Sirius out of one of them. 

“She was much more tolerable than you were when I first took you shopping.” 

Remus shot him an unimpressed glare though he didn’t bother gracing him with a response as he leaned back against the counter and flipped through the pages in his hands. “Why didn’t she take any of this with her?” He asked as he motioned to the bags now littering his kitchen island.

Sirius felt his own mouth pinch in displeasure as he recounted your reasoning. “She said she was worried her neighbours would see - didn’t want anyone to know she had anything of value in her flat.”

Remus made a sympathetic hum as Sirius pondered what it was exactly about that sentiment that left such a bad taste in his mouth. 

“Sounds like my flat back on 31st.” 

Sirius groaned at the memory of Remus’ flat he had back in university. Sirius had spent the first eight months of his and Remus’ relationship begging him to move in with him and James; he’d already spent most nights there in Sirius’ bed anyways! But Remus was proud and argued with Sirius when he said as much.

”I hated when you lived there.” He grumbled, and Sirius pretended not to notice Remus’ eyebrow lift as he considered him. 

“Yeah?” He asked as he turned back towards his potatoes with a muted grin. “So did I.” 

[sparkling-ariaria]

Marauders Era fics I read and want to keep...

*Complete fem or non-specific reader insert fics*Upd: 25.05.2023

Poor bunny by robynlilyblack - Remus x Reader Y/n doesn’t understand why her friends are lying to her every month, so on one full moon she follows them…

The girl with the books by solemnarration- Remus x Reader James and Sirius notice that it’s not the books that keep Remus in the library, and are determined to know whether you – the object of Remus’s affection – return his feelings.

Beautiful by acosmis-t - Remus x Reader Comforting insecure Remus.

The gist of it by yellow-berrys - Remus x Reader You’re meeting Remus’ mother for the first time, and it’s overwhelming for her how lovely the house is.

One where he teaches you how to play the Piano by proserpina-magnus - Regulus x Reader

From a distance by still-blue-sky - Regulus x Reader Reader has a major crush on the mysterious Regulus Black and has always observed him from a distance. She never thought that he would feel the same until proven otherwise late at night in the library.

A snake and his little bird by robynlilyblack - Regulus x Reader Y/n has been keeping her relationship with a certain Black brother secret, but when James starts investigating why she's always stealing the map she's in hot water.

Smart cookie by robynlilyblack - Sirius x shy!Reader Sirius needs a tutor for herbology and he happens to be granted the shiest girl in the world to help him, luckily, he happens to love that about her.

Dote on me by yellow-berries - modern!Sirius x Reader You are completely oblivious to the way Sirius black dotes on you, and think that the way you're infatuated with him is completely one-sided. But he begs to differ.

Dealbreaker by luveline - Sirius x Reader You work in a bookstore. Sirius keeps finding reasons to need books.

Forbidden words by padfootagain - Sirius x Reader You've been dating Sirius for a while now, and it's been going wonderfully well. However, when you finally confess that you love him, he find himself unable to say it back. It will take time for him to be ready to say these three forbidden words out loud, but if there's someone who can make him overcome his inner demons, it's you.

Pumpkin's father and your lover by justyoursimpleflower - Sirius x Reader Sirius and you find a kitten, apparently she is a matchmaker.

Vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche by acosmis-t - Sirius x Reader

Sirius drabble by sxriusblxck - Sirius x Reader Cuddling with Sirius after a long day spent together.

Still pretty by upsidedownwithsteve - Sirius x Reader Drunk Sirius, something cute and fluffy.

Sirius visits you at work by magicchai - Sirius x Baker!Reader Sirius showing up with flowers for his girl at work when she's having a bad day.

I can't focus because I can't keep you out of my head. by perpetuallydaydreaming - James x Reader 5 times James got distracted because of you.

Gorgeous distraction by gtgbabie0 - James x Reader James trying his best to study while you distract him.

And I love her by dilf-lover99 - James x Reader The 3 times James tries to get the girl and the 1 time he finally does. Or In which James Potter is hopelessly in love with his best friend.

You'll be in my heart by once-upon-an-imagine - James x Sister!Reader Hurt/comfort with James where a guy is making her very uncomfortable by hitting on her when James wasn’t there.

SB piece by familyvideostevie - grumpy!Sirius x sunshine!Reader Reader gets a phone call from Remus about her boyfriend moping away in a club.

E prometti domani a tutti parlerai di me by littlest-dark-age - Sirius x Reader Soft Sirius making a flower crown for his love.

Regulus dating someone from Hufflepuff by magicchai

Remus' remedy by magicchai - Remus x Reader Remus has the perfect remedy to fix his girlfriend’s migraines.

[foxalade]

Sirius would play an electric guitar.

James would play an acoustic.

Remus would play bass.

Peter would play the drums.

Mary would play play the piano.

Marlene would play an electric guitar.

Lily would play cello.

Dorcas would play the flute.

Pandora would play the harp.

Regulus would play the violin.

Evan would play the trumpet.

Barty would play a 49 string guitar and turn the volume right up.

[ultravioletbrit]

“nuts” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 309 words

 

Sirius is sitting on his bed trying to do his Transfiguration homework, but he can’t concentrate at all because James has been rambling about Regulus for the last 20 minutes.

“… And did you hear what he said to me in the hall today?” James asks wistfully.

“Yes, he told you to piss off.” Sirius replies without looking up.

“But he made eye contact with me! And have you seen his eyes?” James falls back on his bed with a sigh and Sirius just groans.

“His eyes are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Most people think they look grey, but they have a silver tint to them that makes them sparkle and they are just… beautiful.” James sits up straight on the edge of his bed.

“And his hair. Have you seen his hair? I touched it once, accidentally, and he slapped my hand away. But when I touched it, it was so soft and when he slapped my hand it made my whole arm tingle.” James closes his eyes as if he’s remembering the moment.

“James, shut. up.” Sirius grumbles.

“And his hands! Did you know he plays the piano? His fingers are so long and elegant, I bet he’s brilliant when he plays.”

Sirius finally looks up, grabs a pillow and throws it at James’ head.

“James, you are driving me nuts! Either ask him out or shut the fuck up!” Sirius yells at him.

James just stares at Sirius stunned for a moment then wraps his arms around the pillow.

“You think I should ask him out? Really?” James asks excitedly. “How should I do it? It has to be really special. But it’s Regulus, so he wouldn’t want anything over the top. Maybe I should just go simple…” James continues to ramble.

Sirius buries his head in his other pillow with a loud groan.

[loserboyfriendrjl]

sirius black headcanons

constantly smells like cigarettes and cologne

light sleeper, falls asleep late and wakes up early (or past noon)

james is the only person who can get him to do things. otherwise, he does them if he wants to, when he wants to; he hates being told what to do

the only marauders who got the morning paper before the war worsened, and he only got it for the crosswords

chips the nail polish off his nails when he’s bored

manspreads

extremely ambitious

doesn’t reveal secrets and doesn’t spread gossip (mainly because he doesn’t care enough to remember it)

learnt how to play the piano as a child, then taught himself how to play the guitar

dislikes fyodor dostoievski with the exception of the idiot

usually doesn’t apologise for things he does; either he doesn’t think he’s in the wrong, or he apologises through actions, not words

only actively makes conversation with a certain group of people; doesn’t like small talk, prefers just not talking

never colours in his sketches

awkward with physical interaction, despite it being his receiving love language (along with quality time; his giving love language are acts of service)

has a tendency to say hurtful things when he lashes out at people; he knows where it would hurt and he targets it

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈 | 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤

summary: your parents set up an arranged marriage with regulus black and you make an attempt to keep it a secret for as long as possible. through it all, regulus is there for you in a way you wouldn’t ever had thought possible.

cw: fem!reader, arranged marriage, walburga black, angst, comfort,

<3

July 17th, 1977

Following your fifth year attending Hogwarts greater tensions arose between pure-blood families throughout the entirety of the wizarding world. Previously, tensions had already existed between those who supported the joining of the dark lord's forces and those who sought to protect their children from his reign. Your loyalties lie with the latter but your parent's do not, so you keep silent.

The day of your sixteenth birthday your father informed you of his plan to marry you off. The news came to you as a surprise, but not because you didn't believe your parents would do such a thing but rather because it was truly unexpected. Initially, you didn't know how to handle the news and it only became more difficult to understand when your father told you that you would be betrothed to the youngest Black brother, Regulus.

You're a Gryffindor from a line of Slytherin purebloods. You're not surprised by the fact that you're being engaged to a Slytherin but you never would have thought it would be to Sirius's brother. You suppose your parents want someone to keep you in line and according to them, Regulus is perfect for that.

You aren't aware of the complex history and values of the Black family but you aren't naive. You notice the way Sirius and Regulus carry themselves at Hogwarts. From an exterior perspective they are very different. Sirius flaunts his rebellion and appears arrogant while Regulus suffers quietly but much more noticeably. So, from an interior perspective the brothers are very much the same and it's most likely a result of their relationship with their family which is known for being supportive of the dark lord.

The last thing you want is to marry into the house of Black. But you also have no other choice and your father has made his decision on that very clear. He said it was the best decision for your future and the future of the family. (Probably more so the future of the family, he never usually had your best interests at heart). So as soon as your father came in contact with the Blacks they were more than happy to offer up Regulus.

And that is how you find yourself sitting in the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place, silent and sat up straight, attempting to tune out the discussion the adults are having on behalf of you and Regulus. Soon to be husband and wife. You cant even imagine yourself as a wife, tending to the home and children. Merlin, you weren't ready for that and you can't even apparate yet let alone hold all the burdens of being a wife. Besides, you have always believed in the notion for marrying for love. Unfortunately, that dream is being cut short by your betrothal to Regulus.

12 Grimmauld Place is cold, all the furniture made of near-black wood and the textiles heavy. Ornate candelabras light the room, although it still has the distinct feeling of overall darkness. The fireplace isn't lit, though it would probably do a lot in the way of comfort. The old piano, shrouded in cobwebs, disguising its elegance, is playing itself, surely enchanted in order to keep your and Regulus's ears distracted from the conversation your parents are having. You and your father are seated on a black couch with an abstract gold print across from Orion and Walburga, seated on an identical couch. Regulus is on a bench in front of the piano eyes glued to the floor. He hasn't even looked at you.

Entirely reassuring.

You on the other hand can't stop sneaking glances at him. He's a good-looking boy, you'll give him that. And it's not as though you never saw him at Hogwarts but you never payed attention to him until now. His features differ from Sirius's but he still exudes that obvious, easy charm and a certain haughty look that they share.

Regulus was just a bit thinner, just a bit shorter. Still with the dark and curly locks, but not as long as Sirius's. His eyes are dark and situated under heavy brows. You get the impression he doesn't know how to do anything but brood, although perhaps that's because it's all you've seen him do. There's a beautiful angularity to his face, reminiscent of a statue. You don't like the idea of him looking at you with those eyes. You know there's no way he could find you nearly as attractive as you find him.

Regulus must've heard your thoughts because before you can tear your gaze away, he looks up, eyes meeting yours.

"(Y/N)?" Your head whips around at your father's voice. He and the Blacks are looking at you.

"Yes, father?"

"You and Regulus are excused while we continue our discussion." His eyebrows raise in a look that means: behave so I can marry you off.

Regulus stands and you follow him out of the room, unknowing of what to say once you've left. The silence feels so loud as neither of you speak and you hope this is not the rhythm you fall into once you've officially married.

The hallways are dusty and suffocating from the sheer amount of unkept vintage furniture lining the floor. Your gaze wanders aimlessly, a reckless move on your behalf, the eerie atmosphere leaving a lingering feeling of despair within your chest. You dread the day you have to move into this wretched house.

At the staircase, Regulus abruptly stops causing you to step on his heels. He turns around and you mumble out a quick apology. His face still betrays no emotion much to your unease.

"Would you like me to show you to my room?" He asks. His voice is different from what you expected. There's a hint of sadness, melancholy hidden beneath his pride. It doesn't take a genius to hear it but it makes you wonder if he's allowing you to.

"I suppose I don't have much of a choice?"

Regulus shakes his head and sends you an almost sympathetic look, as if saying: you have no idea what you're getting into. And truthfully, you don't.

His room is a whole four stories up. The climb is manageable but not entirely enjoyable. You try to keep your breathing level but your curiosity keeps you occupied. You scan the walls mostly made up of portraits, presumably members of their family line. Each exudes a contrasting level of emotion, some were troubling, nightmares of a certain kind, while others carry sorrow heavy on their faces. It was unnerving, this is the family you are to be married into. Soon you'll have your own portrait on the wall.

At the top of the flight are only two doors. Regulus walks in the direction of the one of the left. You pause.

"Is this other room Sirius's?" Regulus turns and for the first time, his expressionless eyes sadden, mirroring the sound of his voice.

"It was."

You close your curious mouth, not meaning to pry, but there's a version of the story that you don't yet know and you intend to find out eventually.

As you approach Regulus's door, you see he's hung a sign. It says: Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black. He enters, but you hang back in the doorway for a moment, lost in a thought.

Your mind reels at the thought of being one of the select few granted access to his room. But the reality of the situation renters your mind and you take a hesitant step forward, feeling the weight of the arrangement pressing down on your shoulders.

Regulus turns, sensing your hesitation and for the first time the ice of his face cracks, and he smiles faintly, "You can come in. Just close the door behind you."

He sits on the only chair in the room, leaving you to awkwardly seat yourself on the edge of his bed. As you pretend to examine his room you can feel the fullness of his gaze. He looks at you now that you're alone and you think he is seeing too much. He can see that you're not the girl he'd marry if he could choose. He sees why your parents think you need controlling, to be steered away from your friendship with his disowned brother and the rest of the Gryffindor house. He can see that you are afraid. His room is surprisingly small, and you can't imagine you are more than three feet from one another.

"So," you break the silence, "Do you think I'll have to live here?"

His eyebrows raise as if he already knows the answer to your question, but his face quickly returns to normalcy. His parents probably told him to be on his best behavior.

"My parents seem to expect you to. It's what a wife does, I suppose."

You nod, making an attempt to pick your brain for something else to say. You can't find anything and silence once again houses itself in the air between you.

"It's not a good idea." He's angry again. Or at least, he looks the way he did when you first stepped foot in this house. Maybe angry is the wrong word. He looks closed off, impenetrable. Maybe angry, too.

"What?"

"You coming to live here. Us getting married. It's not a good idea." Finally, he looks away from you, focusing instead on a nonexistent point to your right, "You don't deserve to be dragged into this."

You can't mask your shock. The sincerity in his voice is the most you've ever heard from him. You want to believe your father in assuring you this is the right thing, but Regulus's tone makes you wonder if he is telling you the truth. Maybe this isn't such a good idea.

"Dragged into what?" You pry, curiosity besting your manners.

"You do realize which side of the war you now stand with, right?"

You breathe in and hold it for as long as you can. The silence lingers like dust that's taking too long to settle. You're not surprised to feel a knot of terror lodged in your throat.

"Toujours Pur." Your gaze snaps to Regulus whose eyes are directed towards the family crest above his bed, "Always pure. That's what you're getting into. I hope you know what that entails."

Regulus watches closely as you open and close your mouth, unknowing of what the respond with. You've thought about the fact that you're now on the side of the dark lord but you find your mind circling with more worries when the truth is said aloud.

"And I don't know what your father said to convince my parents to allow you, a Gryffindor, to marry me but they won't let anyone know." Regulus sighs, he doesn't mean to come off as rude but you have every right to know everything about the situation, "You'll have to learn how to be one of us."

Your eyebrows furrow and you fight the urge to stand but the space is far too small for you to without being too close.

"I don't know who you think I am but I assure you, I know exactly how to be one of you." You point out, your voice sharp with defiance, yet tinged with a hint of vulnerability, "My parents are just like yours so don't assume that I don't know what it's like."

Your eyes are fixed firmly on Regulus as he remains silent. The tension in the room is palpable, the air crackling with unspoken words and unmet expectations.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Regulus shifts his weight, his gaze flickering momentarily away before returning to meet yours. Without a word, he moves closer, his steps deliberate yet hesitant, until he's seated on the edge of the bed beside you. The sudden proximity sends a shiver down your spine, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity toward his actions.

"I'm only trying to help." Regulus admits softly, his voice barely above a whisper, before retreating once more into his stoic demeanor, "But you shouldn't assume this will be any better for you."

Your shoulders sag with the weight of his words, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you struggle to find the right response. "It might," you murmur, your voice tinged with hope. "In a year, we can leave here."

Regulus's gaze softens slightly, a fleeting glimpse of understanding passing through his eyes before they harden once more. "You're missing a chance to be happy," he offers, the hint of regret hidden in his tone.

A bitter laugh escapes you as you shake your head, the weight of your circumstances pressing down on you like a leaden blanket, "I don't have any other choice."

Regulus's hand finds yours for a moment before his door flies open, clearly without regard for the sign, and your hands fly apart. And there stand your parents.

"Oh lovely," Walburga begins, "They're already getting on."

"(Y/n), you'll be moving in with the Black's, effective tomorrow." Your father explains and under the intense gaze of Walburga you flinch. It doesn't go unnoticed by her or Regulus, "You can pack your bags tonight. Understood?"

"Yes, father, I understand."

Your parents exit the room but Walburga lingers and her icy gaze turns to Regulus, "Our guest will be staying in here, with you," Walburga pauses, eyes narrowing in your direction, "She's your responsibility now."

<3

masterlist . regulus black masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[onehundredflamingos]

19 / thumb / 254 words

@jegulus-microfic

“You’re beautiful,” James said softly into the small space between him and Regulus. They had been talking for what felt like hours, divulging more information than the person on the neighboring bar stool probably needed to know, and yet…

James wanted time to stand still. Wanted to sit and stare at this beautiful man forever; wanted to listen to the stories about his job and his youth, stories shared alongside whiskey shots and IPAs.

Regulus blushed and turned away from James, taking a quick sip of his beer, but it only gave James a better view of his flushed cheeks.

Regulus set his glass against the bar top before turning back to face James, tongue swiping out to lick the foam off his upper lip. James reached out and immediately swiped his thumb beneath his lower one, wiping away a droplet of beer that had escaped as he drank.

“Can I kiss you?” James asked, the question barely more than a whisper.

“You don’t —” Regulus stumbled over his words. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you enjoy playing the piano and watching soccer; I know you have an older brother named Sirius; I know you desperately want a kitten, but your roommate is allergic.”

Regulus’ eyes went wide in shock, like he couldn’t believe James had actually been listening to him.

“And I know that I’d like to kiss you.”

James leaned forward, but paused, eyes trained on Regulus’ as he waited for his answer.

“Yeah, James,” Regulus breathed. “You can kiss me.”