#so Orion has to slide in here

[blackbirdblackbird]

okay actually now that I’m thinking about it I want to make a list of all those aus. I don’t exactly have intentions to really do anything with these (and a lot don’t even have any kind of plot) they’re just scenarios I think about when I’m at work or whatever.

the pilot/assistant one. basically lena as something like amelia earhart but also an engineer who designed her own plane. she’s doing some kind of around the world or some other sort of groundbreaking long distance flight and kara is the journalist tagging along documenting everything. kara has also kinda become something like lena’s navigator and assistant mechanic. they probably originally met when kara was covering lena’s new efficient engine or wing or something. they end up in trouble somehow and kara reveals her powers to lena saving the plane and lena.

lena as the captain of a space battleship rebelling against her family’s space empire ending up on the run and seeking refuge/help on kara’s planet.

space pirate lena who starts out by stealing a ship and running away when her family starts getting more overtly evil. with her loyal assistant first officer partner jess at her side. (lena keeps trying to promote her; jess insists lena is the boss.) idk how she ends running into to kara here, but I’m pretty sure alex/kelly/sam are a thing in this verse, living on their ship with ruby and esme too.

 space pirate kara with the superfriends as her crew, who do suspiciously little in the way of what would normally be considered ‘piracy.’ they encounter lena and she joins the crew. at some point kara is captured or phantom zoned or something. this idea is mainly built around a scene aesthetically like the end of serenity when mal and river are taking the sip up in a storm. in this case it would be lena and alex flying to go rescue kara, and it would mirror a scene of kara and alex taking the ship up earlier on. (and maybe a bit one of kara teaching lena about the specific quirks of their ship.)

some kind of setting where ftl is a thing but it’s slow/difficult, so the less developed colony worlds have this weird anachronistic mix of bits of futuristic scifi tech with like sailing ships and zeppelins. (there’s kind of a sliding scale of logically justified by what you could do with a lower industry base but modern/future knowledge vs simple rule of cool.) kara would probably be the captain of one of those sailing ships, and lena has a cool spaceship which is stranded there due to a breakdown. (or maybe some nonsense with her family.) initially lena hires kara to transport her somewhere and they end up going various adventures. lex eventually shows up with his very much working spaceship and when he’s about to shoot them kara looks at lena and says “you know all those things you heard about kryptonians? they’re true.” then her eyes start glowing and she takes off and does a captain marvel to them.

a random scifi scenario where sc have a ship and are on the run from something when they take refuge on/stumble this sorta pristine world that was terraformed and seeded with life but never settled by any people and it’s just sort of a peaceful little interlude in this place that’s untouched by all the chaos around them.

a mostly lena centric au that diverges from canon after s2 but would be set somewhat later. (I’ve been kinda thinking of this one since around the end of s2 and it does have an actual plot, but very little of it is actually written down.) post daxamite invasion, lena realizes that if they weren’t incompetent/didn’t have a push button weakness that earth wouldn’t have had a chance against them. so she decides to take a more stargate type approach of using and learning alien tech to build defences for earth. there’s vary degrees of soft/hard this could go, from something like an earth built equivalent to the alien ships we saw on the show down to something much more realistic like an orion with some exotic tech bolted on. (in the latter scenario, there would be a bit where they end up forced to launch the orion from somewhere near nc bc that’s the least bad option.) it would end up with lena actually going out in her ship and fighting invaders. the final battle would take place in earth orbit, and beats them, but her ship is destroyed too and there’s a dramatic reentry scene where here escape capsule comes down uncontrolled and out of communication. kara flies to where it splashes down and tears it open to find lena exhausted but more or less unhurt, then she helps her out and they fall backwards into the inflatable raft together, laughing & probably they kiss.

also in the previous one lena would throw herself into the work, kinda pulling away from kara a bit. (& from the day to day operation of lcorp; this is where sam would come in.) just kinda drifting apart a bit and pining over each other. they mostly see each other when lena announces some new spinoff tech from her research that is useful for regular people on earth too. it would also kinda work in the anti alien stuff a little too. some kind of bigot dude would like try to draw lena into a debate or something on his side and she’d come with her position of ~a few people already here aren’t the problem, it’s whatever is waiting for us out there in the dark, and we all need to work together to protect our home.

[engie-ivy]

Orion Black offers Remus more money than he could've dreamed of. The only condition? Stay away from his son.

(This got way fluffier than I anticipated towards the end)

A slow smile spreads across Orion Black’s face as he writes something down on a piece of paper, and slides it over the broad, wooden desk towards Remus. “Read the number on that paper,” he says confidently. “And tell me again how much you love him.”

To Put a Price On Love

“How much?”

Remus hardly dares to move under the intensity of Orion Black’s scrutinizing gaze. The man is sitting behind his polished wooden writing desk, one large hand holding a pen hovering above some sort of notebook.

Remus is visiting the Black Manor for a couple of days, finally meeting his boyfriend’s family. Much to Remus’ dismay, his boyfriend had been reluctant to take him home, but after some insisting on Remus’ part, he finally agreed. After the first day of staying at the posh manor, Remus had changed his goal of making his boyfriend’s parents like him, to making his boyfriend’s parents not kill him in his sleep.

Orion and Walburga Black are stiff, formal and standoffish people. Their noses are constantly scrunched up in distaste, and their lips pressed in a thin line. They hardly say a word to Remus, and Remus hasn’t once seen them smile. He honestly can’t even imagine it. Where his boyfriend’s silver grey eyes are bright and sparkling with vibrant energy, Walburga Black’s eyes are cold and empty, while Orion Black’s gaze is hard as steel.

That gaze is now intently fixed on Remus, and Remus feels like he’s being weighed and found wanting.

To say he was wary when Orion Black suddenly placed a large hand on his shoulder and asked him, no, commanded him, to come to his study, would be an understatement.

“Ex- excuse me?” Remus stammers.

“What amount do I need to write down to get you to stay away from my son?” Orion Black says slowly.

Remus glances down at the notebook, that he sees is, indeed, a check book, and back up at Orion Black’s face. “I... I think there’s some kind of misunderstanding.”

“I’ve been here before, Lupin, was it?” Orion Black says, with a hint of impatience in his voice. “Everyone has a price, so why don’t you save us both the time, and tell me yours?”

“That’s not... I’m not...” Remus sputters. “I love your son!”

Orion Black smiles wryly at him. “So did many of the others. But as the number got higher, they realised they didn’t love him quite so much after all.”

Remus feels a wave of anger course through his body. He hasn’t even told Sirius he loves him yet. How dare this man just brush off his feelings like that!

“Look,” Remus says. “If you don’t approve of me for your son, then I suppose there’s little I can do about that, but you cannot make a situation go your way just by throwing some money at it!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, boy,” Orion Black says sharply. “Let me give you a free lesson here. There’s nothing money can’t buy, as long as you have enough of it. As the amount I’m offering increases, this so-called ‘love’ will decrease. You don’t have to like it, but that’s just how the world works.”

“Why is it worth so much to you?” Remus asks. “Have I somehow offended you?”

Orion Black lets out a humourless laugh, that doesn’t make his eyes look any less like ice cold steel. “Believe me, boy. If you had offended me, I would’ve used a different way than paying you to get rid of you.”

It’s a threat, and a barely veiled one. Remus feels a chill creep up his spine.

“No,” Orion Black continues undisturbed. “It has nothing to do with you personally.” He sighs. “If Sirius wants to be rebellious and... have relations with the occasional boy, then so be it, but I’ll make sure his provocative behaviour won’t go too far by timely dissolving these delusional attachments. Whatever Sirius has to get out of his system, in the end he shall marry Druella Rosier, as has been promised.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Remus exclaims. “You’d bully your son into a marriage that’ll make him miserable?” Remus shakes his head. “I want no part in this.”

A slow smile spreads across Orion Black’s face as he writes something down on a piece of paper, and slides it over the broad, wooden desk towards Remus. “Read the number on that paper,” he says confidently. “And tell me again how much you love him.”

Remus glances down at the paper, and gasps.

“So, how much did he offer you?”

Sirius is standing in the doorway of the guestroom, leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. He’s watching Remus pack his bags with an expressionless face.

Remus doesn’t look up from his attempt to stuff his jumpers in the bag. “Hundred thousand.”

Sirius whistles through his teeth. “That’s a new record! What did you do? Did you tell him you love me? That always seems to drive up the price a bit.”

“I did,” Remus replies flatly, still not looking up from his packing.

“Fabian did too, but still, he only managed to get to sixty thousand,” Sirius says. “Gilderoy tried to play the ‘but I love him!’-card, but he was so insincere, even my father wasn’t fooled.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “I guess you don’t have much of a negotiating position when your eyes light up with greed the moment you see a check book. Caradoc never claimed to love me. I think I preferred that most,” he adds pensively. “He never pretended we were something we weren’t. Just took the money and left. But then again, I don’t think he even got to twenty thousand,” he finishes with a shrug.

Remus just looks at him for a while, before turning back to his packing.

Sirius follows his movements. “Hey, that’s mine!” He exclaims when Remus picks up a leather jacket and puts it in one of the bags. When Remus doesn’t respond and proceeds to fold up Sirius’ old band t-shirts, Sirius grabs his arm, forcing Remus to look at him. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m leaving!” Remus shouts angrily. “And I’m taking you with me! I won’t allow you to stay with these people who won’t let you be who you are, and who think they can force you into a marriage you don’t want by bribing the people you care about to abandon you!” He takes a deep breath. “Besides,” he adds dryly. “I doubt your father will let me stay in his house after telling him to shove his check book up his arse.”

“But why would you...” Sirius shakes his head. “What’s going on, Remus? Please, I need you to explain.”

Remus’ expression softens upon seeing Sirius’ wide eyes, filled with a mixture of hope and disbelief. “I didn’t take his money, Sirius,” Remus says softly. “I meant it when I told him I love you, and no amount of money will be worth losing you over.”

Sirius’ eyes frantically search Remus’ face, and he seems to find some sort of confirmation there, because the next moment, he flings himself at Remus. He clutches to him and presses his face in his hair. “I wanted to believe... I wanted to trust... I wanted to think that you’d never.. But I’ve been disappointed so many times before. I started to think I just wasn’t...”

“You’re worth it, Sirius,” Remus whispers. “You’re worth a thousand times more than any amount of money. They’re all idiots. Everyone who chose money over you. And you know what? I’m glad for it, because now I get to have you.”

“You have me, Remus. You do.” Sirius pulls away slightly, so he can look Remus in the eyes, while tears are shining on his cheeks.

Remus brushes the tears away with his thumb and smiles. “So, are you ready to leave your luxurious manor with servants on your beck and call, to come live with me in a cramped flat with no idea how we’re going to pay rent next month?”

Sirius smiles back. “I’ve never been more ready for anything.”

[lucialily99]

Grimmauld Place

Sirius Black x muggle!fem!reader

Staring up at the newly exposed Grimmauld Place 12, my hands shook from anticipation and the winter air breezing around. I stood frozen mentally going over all the reasons as to why I shouldn’t go in.

“They are going to hate you, they are powerful wizards and you’re just a maggle, muggle, miggle? I can’t remember what Sirius said”

“What if they decide you're not good enough for their friend and father figure?”

Two arms sliding around my waist stopped my internal dialogue. As I breathed in the scent of smoke, leather and expensive cologne, I instantly felt calm and remembered why I was here in the first place.

“Come on beautiful, they are going to love you”, Sirius whispered whilst nuzzling into my neck

“They are going to think I’m weak, after all I am just some maggle”

“Muggle, love” Sirius laughed

“Muggle, whatever, they are going to hate me because I’m some young muggle, who knows nothing about witches or fire whiskey or animagus’s”

“Love, look at me” as Sirius’s grey eyes stared into my soul I realised the reason why I fell in love with him in the first place. “They are going to love you no matter what, because you are the most kind and beautiful woman I have ever met, and if I love you, they will love you as well.”

I stared at him a while longer appreciating the man who loved me with all of his heart. As we walked up to the door I stared curiously at Sirius as he knocked on the door.

“Siri, why are you knocking on the door of your own house” I proposed.

“Well I told Moony…”

“Remus” I exclaimed happily

Sirius laughed, “Yes love, Remus, I told him to answer the door because I wanted you to meet him first.”

As the door began to open I was presented with a incredibly tall and lean figure which matched the description of Remus perfectly along with the pictures of him during their years as school students

“Moony, this is Y/n”

“Hi Y/n, it’s lovely to finally meet the girl, Sirius won’t stop talking about” we chuckled “No seriously, I feel like I know you more than I know Padfoot these days” Remus smiled brightly at me, his smile have a beautifully calming affect.

“It is lovely to meet you as well Remus, Sirius has told me so much about you as well”. I smiled

“Alright, enough with the niceties, let's meet everyone else”. Sirius lead me through the door, leading me through an eerie dark hallway

“Now we are just going to very silently walk through the hallway as to not wake up….”

“Mudblood, mudblood in my house” Walburga Black screeched bring me to a halt in front of her hidden .

“Oh shut up you wretched old woman”

“Sirius Orion Black, that is no way to speak to your mother” I exclaimed with a hint of a smirk on my face. Sirius kissed the smirk off my face pushing me along.

As soon as I enter the kitchen I was immediately meet with an overwhelming sense of life and family.

“Harry, come here there is someone I would like you to meet” Sirius waved over a boy with adorable fluffy hair and round glasses.

“Harry Potter, this is my girlfriend, Y/n L/n”

“Hi Harry it is wonderful to meet you, I must say although I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting your dad, from what Sirius has shown me, you are truly the spitting image of him, except I would say you’re cuter” I smiled brightly at the boy who smiled adorably back at me.

“Thanks Y/n” he surprised me with a hug, “Thank you for making him so happy, him being happy makes me happy as well”.

“Oh sweetheart, there is no need to thank me, he makes me incredibly happy and I am thankful for you for bringing so much light into his life after those 12 terrible years”

I pulled away from Harry as I heard a sniffle behind me. Turning to Sirius I stared into his watery eyes for the umpteenth time that night, giving him a light peck on his pink lips.

“Yes well, anyway many more people to meet” Sirius sniffed and tried to inconspicuously wipe his eyes as Harry and I laughed.

After going through and meeting many powerful and kind wizards, we got to Fred and George Weasley, easily my favourites.

“Hi I’m Fred”

“and I’m George”

I flinched as they appeared out of nowhere.

"Fred, George don’t scare the poor girl” Mrs Weasley frustratingly said as we all shared a laugh.

Soon I turned to see an old looking elf hunched over with a sneer present on his face

“Oh, you must be the blood traitors mudblood girlfriend” he sneered

“Away with you” Sirius yelled at Kreacher, an house elf soon became familiarised with over my relationship with Sirius

“Sorry about that” he smiled as he turned to me “Dinners ready” Mrs Weasley called out

As we sat down to dinner, with Sirius at the head of the table, me to his left and Harry to his right, I was overcome with a strong sense of family and love. I felt truly at home with these people who accepted me so easily no matter the fact that I, a muggle, possess no magic or power.

Everything was going immensely well until around half way through dinner an old man with half-moon glasses appeared with a ghastly look on his face bringing with him some terrible news.

[birlwrites]

alright so, this isn’t quite a question, just terrific appreciation for your work that i feel the need to share.

i’ve been rereading the available chapters of ttdl because it’s my favourite fic at the moment, and i’m just. absolutely amazed with your character and world-building. most fics where regulus does his own thing about the war are more about personal rebellion—which i absolutely love, too—but the politics-heavy take you present in ttdl is so new and so, so interesting. also your characterisation of evan and house rosier as a whole? amazing, incredible, show-stopping, never done before.

i’m also very intrigued about the whole family specialty thing, especially the black’s, and i’m really curious to see if regulus and sirius have different stances on it, or if it’s one thing they somewhat agree on. (i could see sirius just rejecting any and all form of dark arts purely out of spite, but him still having crazily elaborate and intricate knowledge of them is just. yeah.) i’m also generally curious about what their relationship will be like once sirius inevitably gets involved, really.

okay, i lied. i do have a small question, actually. see, i’m just as obsessed with career goals: tyrant, and the past couple of chapters have me absolutely gone with anticipation. so, are we getting some sort of similar situation in ttdl later on? like, all-out warfare in the dorms on an unassuming tuesday night? i would like that very much, i think.

AAAAAAAAAAAA THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sjfskghsjfjskf i have such a great time with evan and house rosier

i also love the stories in which regulus has more of a personal rebellion!!!!!! (like - literally any fic in which he reaches out to sirius for help, regardless of what that help is, i LOVE him deciding to use the example sirius has given him. i also love him not doing that because he is a stubborn little shit)

the thing driving the premise of this series is that we know from the note in the locket/kreacher's retelling that regulus is clever, determined, protective of people he cares about (to the point of martyrdom), and FULL OF SPITE, and i think that mixture of character traits lends itself to some really bonkers decisions. that and wanting to write a very slytherin regulus and the fact that what he's doing in ttdl could *totally* have happened in canon except the concept of dark arts was not really fleshed out whatsoever which is why i'm doing shitloads of worldbuilding

ANYWAY. i shall proceed through the rest of your ask in order!!

re: regulus and sirius's relationships to the family specialty - the biggest difference is that regulus takes the dangers of it in stride, while sirius Absolutely Does Not. sirius used to be pretty relaxed about the risks, but then arcturus died, and here is why this mattered:

sirius was the new heir to the lordship and like 9 or 10 at the time. he was deemed old enough to have this conversation with orion (especially given his heir status), while regulus was *not*

so sirius got the detailed explanation of how arcturus died. it was a slow slide - he used the family magic too much, and nobody could get him to stop, and he managed to keep living for years but he couldn't hold off the madness with willpower alone

the general theme of this conversation is 'you have to be careful, because you will be lord black one day, and you set an example and ALSO you need to look out for your family because they're your responsibility for things like this'

sirius didn't stop using the family magic right away - he was scared by the conversation, but orion told him he'd be okay as long as he was careful. so he was careful

but he couldn't really stop thinking about it - especially in combination with the knowledge that he and regulus had a double affinity for it, which they figured out when they were about 5 and 6

there was no distinct moment in which sirius decided not to use the family specialty. like, he never committed to that or anything. but he could never come up with a good enough reason to use it at hogwarts, and then at some point he was at home and orion mentioned teaching him something and sirius refused

he cloaked that refusal in language of morality and whatnot because he knew his parents would take it as Gryffindor Word Salad, rather than fear. neither is acceptable but one is at least not too far out of the ordinary

sirius's relationship with dark arts is. really complicated. he's been trying to sort it out for years. the vehement anti-dark sentiment that suffuses gryffindor tower does bother him, because like, he's not evil, and marlene isn't either. and i don't think sirius practices dark arts at all right now because he's afraid of his non-dark friends finding out and he's picking and choosing his battles at the moment

sirius's general attitude towards dark arts is along the lines of 'it's just....... magic.' he doesn't like the villainizing of it and he's painfully aware that he cannot fix that alone, and he may never use his family magic again, but he does wish it wasn't such a bombshell of a topic. sirius does not like hiding. he also doesn't want to lose his entire support system (except marlene but she's not james and she will never be james) and possibly get thrown in azkaban seeing as he's of age and his family sure won't step in to so much as hire a good lawyer, much less network in the wizengamot on his behalf

all of which is to say that when sirius does inevitably find out what regulus is doing, he will be............ bewildered but grudgingly impressed? (the 'bewildered' part is mainly due to 'HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN A BLOOD TRAITOR AND ALSO HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN PLANNING THIS AND ALSO WHAT THE FUCK REGULUS')

afjslghsfhj i think the best way i can describe what their relationship will be is: they were BESTEST FRIENDS when they were little, they both feel abandoned, they are both stubborn, and sirius is way better at articulating all of that than regulus is. which is not to say that either of them is good at it. so there will be a confrontational period. and also a sad period. they have a lot of shit to work through. but also, they know each other SUPER WELL and in some ways they'll pick up like they never left off and then be like '>.> wait a second'

re: warfare in the dorms on an unassuming tuesday night: FJSLGHSHSGGHKFJSKGJ

okay so: i have to confess that i'm not a super detailed outliner (like - i know the turning points and the character arcs and the stuff that has to happen, but i don't usually figure out the specifics of a scene ahead of time? in terms of like, who's there, where it's happening, etc. unless those are plot points), and people are in general a little more pragmatic in ttdl than they are in tyrant. the worldbuilding change in which prefects no longer get their own rooms means that there is unlikely to be a situation like what has just happened in tyrant, with junior death eaters breaking into regulus's room to attack him. HOWEVER...

the temperature is rising in ttdl.

so things WILL get unhinged. as of right now, i don't have a plan for all-out dorm warfare, but i do have a plan for things escalating soon (as in, i'm writing them soon, but i have a bunch of chapters written and not yet posted, so it'll take longer before you see them). and we're only in regulus's 5th year, so there's a lot of room for things to continue to escalate, and there are some junior death eaters who will be at hogwarts next year - whether there are junior death eaters at hogwarts the year after that depends on how good a job regulus does of stamping them out.

but in terms of there being outright fighting in the dungeons between the different factions in the wee hours of the morning? yeah we're coming up on that lol, although it's not going to be quite like how it was in tyrant

[fandomlovingfreak]

Glacial Passion (1/?)

Regulus Black/Reader

Rating: Mature / Explicit (Lemon) 18+ Readers ONLY

Word Count: 3931

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link 

Summary: Glacial, cold, icy... all words that described Regulus Black's grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?

Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: Should be maybe 2-3 chapters. It’s a mini series! I’ve never even thought to write Regulus content so I hope this is good! I enjoyed writing it. I want him to go from cold pureblood quiet boy to a more “loving” person. I hope that translates in the next few chapters.

Enjoy

"(Y/n) Raynott will be your bride," Walburga says matter-a-factly. Having been used to his parents making decisions for him his entire life, Regulus doesn't argue with the announcement. The indifference he wears well masks the annoyance he feels.

"We will arrange for the ceremony to take place soon."

His eyes dart up to his mother, "I have not met miss Raynott."

Walburga waves her hand dismissively, "dear, that is not  necessary  for a wedding."

It sort of is , he thinks to himself. He doesn't dare vocalize his displeasure. Orion looks between the two, too disinterested in the whole affair to give his opinion. Hell, he probably had something to do with the match.

"You'll have plenty of time to acquaint yourself with your wife when you are married."

Regulus looks towards the parlor window. The sky is grey, with storms passing over since the morning. A perfect reflection of his mood.

***

Mother fusses over my dress. "You need to look presentable. The Black family is respectable; they want a proper young woman,  who has been raised as you have , to be the perfect wife for their son."

The sudden betrothal has me in a state of shock. I hadn't thought my parents would do this without my permission... without telling me! 

"We will solidify the engagement tonight and choose the date." Mother continues to prattle on. "Probably in the next months. How exciting, isn't it (y/n)?"

"Yes, ma'am."  Lies.

***

Regulus straightens his shirt collar in his bedroom mirror. Grey eyes stare back at him, devoid of emotion. 

It'll be fine.

"Regulus!" His mother's shrill voice echoes through the house, "come down this instant! The Raynott's will be here soon."

Regulus takes another look at himself in the mirror before making his way down to stand by his parents. His mother nitpicks his person for a minute before she restrains herself. Not pleased with him completely but satisfied enough to let it go for now.

A knock sounds on the door, causing Kreacher to make a mad dash to the door to greet the guests. The house-elf leads the family of three towards them.

The first glimpse of the woman he'll be tethered to… He could admit she was pretty. She probably was very pretty. All he could focus on is the anxious tightness of her lips.

***

Dinner is a quiet affair. I don't talk, not to Regulus, or my parents, or the couple who will soon be my in-laws. I don't know if I could talk if I tried.

Walburga and Orion look pleased. Probably enthralled to have picked out such a meek and obedient wife for their son.

Their son , who has stolen glances at me the entire dinner but hasn't let a word fall from his lips.  His rather shapely lips.

He was handsome; I could acknowledge that. Not that it helped in the situation I've found myself in. No, his good looks  did not  make me happy to be stuck with him.

"Have we thought about potential dates?" Orion asks, taking a sip of his wine.

Father looks at mother, "Possibly in the next few months--" Mother is interrupted by Mistress Black, who makes a disapproving noise in the back of her throat.

"Nonsense. Next Tuesday will do just fine."

I nearly choke on my wine.  Next Tuesday?

"That could work as well," Father looks at me, "how does that sound, Sweetheart." I want to roll my eyes. How dare he call me some loving pet name as he was marrying me off.

"That-- It is fine." I look up at Regulus. Unreadable as ever.

"What do you think, Regulus?" Mistress Black turns her attention to her son.

Regulus glances my way, blinking slowly, "the sooner, the better."

**

Days fly by, finally arriving at the day he was to be married.

Married.

It didn't sound quite like it should be a word that describes him. Regulus never assumed his parents would find him a match at his age. Nearly twenty now, his parents had suddenly decided he had his fair share of bachelorhood. 

Orion had taken him to his first brothel at the age of seventeen, intentions being his son would learn the art of procreation early on and get any foolish actions out of the way. Some of his best and worst moments had been in his father's favorite whorehouse. 

Orion clearly believed his education in whoring should be satisfactory by now. The bloodline was to be his mission next.

'Mission' was harsh. He didn't want his wife to feel like the women he had slept with were in preparation for this match. He wasn't the perfect man, he could admit that, but the last thing he wanted to do was make this girl believe she was being used for his pleasure and creating the next heir.

There was truth in her being the vessel for his line, but he hoped she could see he did not intend on treating her like such. Regulus did not know (y/n), doubted he could ever love her,  even with time , but she was to be his wife. The next Mistress Black. She should be happy. If they could not share mutual happiness like a couple ought to, he would try to make her happy in  different  ways.

Merlin knew his presence alone would not make her happy. Regulus was a cold man; he didn't share sweet moments or loving smiles. He would never promise to kiss her goodnight or hold her hand in public. It just wasn't who he was. But he could try not to make her completely miserable. And he hoped that would be enough for (y/n). 

It would have to be enough.

***

I feel numb as I stand in front of the long mirror in the white dress I didn't want. It wasn't ugly; I just wasn't the one to choose it. Which fits perfectly with the day's mood. Wearing the dress I didn't pick to marry the man I didn't pick.

Poetry.

I sigh loudly as mother walks into the room. She squawks about how beautiful I look in the dress  she picked.

"Thank you," my voice is so quiet I can barely hear myself.

"Where is that veil..." mother searches around my packed things for the long organza veil. Finally, she locates it. 

"Come sit so I can place it in your hair. Hurry now. We're nearly late." I obey, sitting down on my bed so she can fuss with the damn veil.

"Perfect. Let's scurry now. It would be very embarrassing for me if we were late for your wedding."

Would it be mother? 

***

"Who is giving this woman to be married to this man?" The older wizard officiating looks to my father.

"Her mother and I do." Regulus doesn't show a pinch of emotion; his face as inscrutable as ever. 

When I had dreamed about this moment, I had imagined the man who was to be my husband would have shed a tear or at least smiled at me as I walked down the aisle... Regulus regards me like I'm a chore as he takes my hand from my father.

"The ceremony of pureblood marriage in which you come to be united in values is one of the first and oldest ceremonies of our kind. Marriage is a gift in that we give ourselves totally to one another. Marriage is a gift given to comfort the sorrows of life and to magnify life's joys." The wizard continues spewing lies of a happy marriage to come. 

"Pureblood marriage is that of traditions, where two families come together to strengthen our convictions. The ultimate union, a blending of blood." I grimace, happy the veil hid my face well. It gave me no joy to think of a  blending of blood  between Regulus and me.

"Regulus Arcturus Black," the wizard turns towards him, "Do you take this witch as your wife? Do you promise to provide for, protect her, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." He says the words with such ease. The wizard turns to me, reciting the words once again.

I pause. Maybe longer than what is appropriate, surely an embarrassing pause compared to Regulus's swift one. His grey eyes stare into mine. He doesn't look angry or alarmed that I've taken nearly half a century to reply. 

"I do." The words slip from my lips. I stare back through the wall of organza between us. 

"Master Black, you may kiss your bride." 

Surprisingly, Regulus hesitates for a moment before he lifts the veil from my face. The kiss is nothing more than a quick brush of lips. His hand wraps around my wrist as he pulls away. Without appearing to drag me, he pulls us through the dining room doors away from the crowd.

Letting go of my wrist, Regulus sits down on one of the velvet couches of the parlor. From a decorative box, he plucks a cigarette, lighting it without a word to me. The drag of the cigarette is long, the smoke billowing from his lips, expanding throughout the room. 

I have half a mind to tell him to extinguish the cigarette at once. Instead, I walk to the other side of the room and sit on a different couch.

The feeling of his eyes on my person can't be ignored, but I cannot make myself meet his eye. I want to wallow away in my misery, if only for a moment. Long stretches of misery are what I expect most of all from this union.

"Come," he stands from the couch, beckoning me like a lap dog towards his awaiting arm. I frown but obey, seeing no other option at the moment. He'll be surprised when he tries this again when I'm not expected to be with him. 

Regulus pulls out something from his dress robes pocket. Taking my left hand in his, Regulus slides a purple jewel on my finger.

"What--?"

"A wedding present. From me."

I look down at the large jewel. It looks expensive.  Hell , it probably is expensive. It's a massive ring, for Merlin's sake.

I remember myself quickly, "thank you."

Regulus nods. "They'll be waiting."

***

Regulus sits on the bed, watching as I pace around, searching for my clothing and personal items. Where the hell did all of my stuff go?

I huff, hating that I must ask Regulus, "Where are my things?" 

"They have been appropriately placed in our room."

"Yes, but  appropriately placed where in the room ?"

Regulus looks at me for a moment. His eyes are cold as he stands, walking towards a door. I follow close behind, finding my clothing has all been hung within the large closet. He glances at me before walking away.

I exhale, beginning to rifle around my side of the expansive closet. I pick a nightdress from the large collection, intending to remove this ridiculous dress...

Damn it!

The only buttons I can successfully reach on the back of the bodice are the top two. There's at least a dozen down the back, and the last thing I want to do is ask for Regulus's help… but if I don't, I'll be trapped in this damned dress for the rest of eternity.

With nightgown in hand, I shyly walk back out into the bedroom. Regulus now stands near the lit fireplace, staring into the flames. He's still dressed in his wedding robes.

"Regulus," I say quietly. He turns towards my voice. The light from the flames flutters against his dark curls.

"Yes?"

My face scrunches up. I hate to do this. "Can you help me? With the buttons, that is?" I turn my back towards him, waiting.

His feet make the lightest of noise against the wooden floor as he approaches me. "You'll need to move your hair." Slender fingers lightly touch my neck as he gathers my hair. I oblige, moving my hair out of the way as his nimble fingers loosen me from this trap of a dress.

When his task is complete, he doesn't move away. Instead, Regulus stays put, his breath fanning gently over my naked shoulders.

He stinks of cigarettes, and I wonder if he had somehow snuck another when I was occupied in the closet.

"Did you smoke?"

He's quiet for a moment before chuckling softly. "I did." 

I would have maybe pestered him about the habit, but I'm so caught off guard by his laughter. 

"Do you not like that?" He whispers in my ear. 

Turning around does nothing for my flustered state as I end up nearly nose to nose with Regulus. He doesn't move, his eyes never leaving mine.

Finally, I find my words, "no."

"No?"

"No, I do not like that you smoke."

He studies me, eyes flickering across my face. I find myself wanting to know what he's thinking. His face betrays nothing.

I don't know what to do with this, his body so close, eyes glued to my face. It unnerves me the way he hasn't said a thing back.

"Regulus..." his name comes out as barely a whisper.

Suddenly, Regulus is leaning in closer. There's no time to react before he's kissing me tenderly. It's not much more than the kiss we shared in obligation earlier, but now his fingers caress my neck and jaw. I get lost in the kiss, my body unconsciously pressing in closer to his. 

"Regulus--" I sigh as he presses kisses down my throat, his fingers beginning to move my sleeves off of my shoulders.

His nose brushes against mine before he mutters a low, "come." 

The nightdress in my hand drops to the floor, forgotten as my body seems to move by its own volition. Willingly letting him situate me on the bed has me in perfect shock. Only a few soft touches and gentle kisses have me so pliant under his touch.

"Do you want this?" he asks curiously, moving ever so slightly away from me.

I pause, unsure. I'm certainly attracted to him. I would be a fool to deny that. And... well, there's the pressure from this sort of relationship to complete the bond of marriage. In pureblood marriages, an extra spell was placed upon the couple specifically to encourage coupling. It was meant to bring a couple together, an artificial sort of attraction. The bond only strengthened with intimacy. Most couples liked to complete the initial bond on their wedding night because it gave a stable foundation for something  like love  to blossom from arranged marriages.

I stare up into his cold eyes, "yes."

"You're sure?" 

I nod. Deep down, a girlish fantasy still burns within me. That this artificial attraction that was placed upon us will grow into something other than comfortable civility.  I wanted Regulus to love me . I want to love him back in turn. I didn't wish to live in civility with children and an overbearing mother-in-law. I wanted romantic, passionate love. I wanted his glacial eyes to thaw. Wanted those eyes to be filled with warmth  specifically for me.

Regulus kisses my neck again, his fingers moving down the front of my dress.

"Can I?" His eyes flit up to mine. Fingers move across the neckline of my dress. 

I feel dizzy as I nod. Regulus gently pulls me up to a sitting position, moving the dress up and off my body. I want to cover myself up as he inspects my naked body.

"Don't cover yourself," his tone is alarmingly smooth. He seems to notice the way my eyes widen at his words. He rephrases himself, "please do not cover yourself."

"Are you going to get undressed?" I ask, trying to figure out where to put my arms.

A small smile jumps on his lips. He almost looks amused. I squirm as he begins to loosen the silk scarf from his neck. 

Slowly, he strips out of the rest of his clothing. Before I can get a good look at his physique, he's moved back onto the bed.

"Have you done this before?" He leans down, whispering into my ear.

My mouth opens and closes slowly before I shake my head. No, I had not. But, what was he expecting? Of course, I hadn't. No one like us--  like me  would even dream of this before this specific moment. Like Mother had said,  I was raised for this life. 

He stares down at me for an unnervingly long beat. Much too long for my liking before leaning in to kiss me. The kiss is deeper this time and full of something  more  than the last two we had shared. Courage comes over me, and I tangle my fingers in his curly hair. A low moan escapes his lips as he moves to press open-mouthed kisses to my neck.

His hand moves down my body, stopping to cup my breast. My fingers grip his shoulders as I press up against his palm.

Pupils blown wide, Regulus pulls away to situate between my legs. His long delicate fingers run across my skin, spreading my legs further.

Trying to breathe normally and push the sudden embarrassment that comes over, I focus on his face, ignoring the light brush of his fingers as they move up my inner thigh.

"It's going to hurt a little bit." His thumb moves slowly against my clit, as he watches my face with interest.

"What are you doing?" 

"Getting you ready for me." He gives me a small smile.

I frown, turning my face away from him again.

"Don't be that way," he gently moves my face back towards him, "there's no need to be embarrassed with me."

"I have no idea what I'm doing." Admitting this shouldn't make me so... self-conscious.

He looks amused, "I'll keep that in mind."

Regulus presses my knees closer to my chest. Maintaining eye contact, he presses kisses down my abdomen to my thighs. 

"Relax, (y/n)."

"Regulus--" I squirm as Regulus's thumb moves from my clit, dipping into my sex. 

"Relax." Regulus replaces his thumb with his finger, slowly easing it in to his knuckle. 

He watches my face as he moves his finger gently, "how does that feel?"

"Odd."

I catch his smile before it disappears from his face.

"Not exactly what I wanted you to say" He presses a kiss to my clit before lightly sucking. 

"Oh!" My fingers find his hair again. I hadn't expected this to feel good...  for me , at least.

A second finger joins the first as Regulus continues to please me with his mouth. 

It feels like electricity flowing through my veins. Small jolts pulse through my nerves with each swipe of his tongue or movement of his thumb. I want to close my legs, the feeling becoming too much too quickly. 

"No," he moves my thigh back towards the comforter.

"But--"

"No." Regulus continues the dance of his tongue against my sensitive clit, his grey eyes locking with mine as I writhed under the hypnotic movement of his mouth on me.

The pleasure crashes over me in waves. My fingers dig into his hair, pushing his mouth closer. My fingers relax as the aftershocks take over. I feel like I'm melting into the bed, satisfied and pulsing with dull electricity.

Regulus sits up, leaning over my body. His right-hand plants down by my head, his left moving my leg up towards his waist.

"Are you ready?" 

Suddenly, I'm shy again. I nod.

"I need you to tell me you are ready, (y/n)." His hand smoothes over my upper thigh as he waits for me to give consent.

"Yes, I am ready."

Regulus nods, hand pumping his cock slowly, "I'll be gentle, as gentle as possible." 

I stare up at Regulus, watching him focus as he brushes the head of his cock against my slit before pressing in slowly.

"Relax. The pain will subside in a moment. Relax." His voice is surprisingly gentle as his thumb brushes the sun under my eye, moving down my cheek. 

As he continues to press into me, I try to do as he asks. 

Regulus bottoms out, his eyes staying glued to mine. For a moment, I think I see a flicker of something in those grey eyes. 

I open my lips to say something, but the words don't come. His eyes flicker to my lips. Slowly, he leans down, kissing me tenderly. 

"You can touch me if you want," he whispers. His nose brushes against mine as his hips begin to move.

"I--" I inhale shakily as he presses forwards, "Where?"

"Anywhere you want to. I don't mind." He continues to watch my face as I reach for his hair.

"Do you actually like this?" I laugh, raking my fingers through his curls. 

He huffs out his own version of a chuckle before replying, "I do."

"Oh--" I was expecting him to tell me I was giving him a headache with all the hairpulling. 

He continues the slow pace of his hips rocking against mine, watching my face.

"What are you looking at?" I ask quietly.

"You." 

I squirm uncomfortably. "Well... don't?"

Regulus stops, "don't look at you when we're doing this?"

"You're making me self-conscious!" 

He rolls his eyes, " I'm inside of you.  There's no room to be self-conscious."

"That..." I frown, "does not make me feel any less self-conscious."

I wiggle, sitting up slightly on my forearms. I look down where he's buried deep inside of me.

Regulus sighs, "There's no reason to feel self-conscious with me."

"But--"

"No." Regulus stops me from rambling on, "no more talking unless you want me to stop or you want something specific from me. Do you understand?"

I nod.

"Good," Regulus looks like he's collecting his thoughts before he restarts his pace. "Touch yourself."

"What?" 

"Touch yourself," he presses his lips against mine, "touch your clit."

Hesitantly, I move my hand between our bodies.

"Just like that. Trust me."

My fingers press against my sensitive clit. I shudder beneath him, feeling overwhelmed by the push and pull of his cock as I press deeper against the nerves.

I look up at him, "Will you kiss me again?"

Regulus doesn't give me an answer, leaning in to kiss me hungrily as he chases his release.

Without warning, he moves my hand out of the way, replacing it with his own, more skilled digits. 

"Cum for me," the snap of his hips quickens as his fingers move rapidly. My world shatters as I cum for the second time tonight.

"Fuck." He buries his face in my neck as he releases.

I feel lightheaded as he rolls away from me. Slowly, I turn my head to look at him. His hair's splayed across the pillow, jaw relaxed as he catches his breath. I study his side profile with interest.

The question sits at the tip of my tongue. What happens next? He hasn't tried to... cast anything, a charm to end the chances of a pregnancy. Unless this was his plan?

"What... what about the possibility of a baby?"

"Don't worry about it."

"But there's a possibility, or maybe you wanted--"

"No," with a flick of his wrist, Regulus stops any chance of that.

I turn my body towards him, "are you tired?"

Regulus glances over, "Yes. I am."

***

He holds her as she falls asleep. It's nice, he supposes.

But dangerous.

It couldn't hurt to hold her when she's sleeping. He just can't let her catch him holding her when she wakes up.

She can't get the wrong idea about their relationship.

[the-marsh-harrier]

Who was Orion Black? (Pt 3) Orion Black x Female!Reader

***WARNING - symptoms related to a panic attack are featured in this part just under the "Keep Reading" tab - it has been highlighted in red so if you don't want to read this part, please skip ahead***

A/N: I wanted to explore Sirius’s childhood more in a non-traditional sense and give Orion and Walburga some interesting character development. This takes place after Sirius has broken out of Azkaban. Although this is a reader insert in parts, it is not the main focus and some chapters will have little or no mention of the reader. I have also altered the year Walburga was born to be 1940 instead of 1925 as it states in cannon (this is my fanfic and I’ll do what I want with the characters that are in it). Similarly, in some of the chapters to come, I already know I will upset some people with the way I portray Sirius and Walburga’s relationship - remember everyone is entitled to portray fictional characters as they want in their fanfics and if you disagree, please write your own. JKR's bigotry and opinions are not welcome here nor supported.

Finally, I am hoping to get Part 4 out this week as well as a sorry for missing last week's post.

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 (Part 3) Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Sirius thought he knew who his parents were, but did he really? After returning to 12 Grimmauld Place after his escape from Azkaban, he uncovers secrets that he never would’ve imagined

The Elf, The Key, and The Pensieve

As the night dragged on, Walburga’s portrait eventually passed out with her face rested against the frame. The repetitive nature of her snoring droning on throughout the parlour drove Sirius out of the room. Sirius found himself lost within his drunken thoughts and questions. It was during this internal monologue that he found himself aimlessly staring down the hallway toward the front door. The more he focused on it the more the chatter and noise from the outside world seemed to grow louder, voices from the past that were encapsulated in the walls began echoing back at him, footsteps that once graced the stair of 12 Grimmauld Place creaked back to life… and then as if a song reaching its crescendo… it all stopped... nothing but silence. Pure, unadulterated silence spoke louder than it ever had to him before; and at that moment, that singular moment, Sirius realised that he was alone. He was alone. No one knew where he was, despite a very small select few but they didn’t come too often nor stay too long. They all had their lives, they had their houses full, they had their homes, they had their lives. They had a life that Sirius knew he would never be able to possess. The silence in 12 Grimmauld Place had never spoken to Sirius in this way before, so cruel and haunted; jaded with time and loneliness as everything held in within its walls became. There's a dark force that seems to suck the life from everything within its grip, so much so that even the silence could be disturbed by the house's own hideous nature.

A tightness began to take hold of Sirius’s chest as tears began to swell in his eyes. Was this all he was ever meant to be? Surely not. What sick prophet would lay out a life like this before him? The tightness in his chest only grew and Sirius found himself braced against the wall for some sense of steadiness. Pain shot through his core like a white-hot poker as all his limbs turned an odd prickly sort of numb. He felt hot and cold at the same time. Like up was down and down was up, like left was right and right was left, like the world was still and he was spinning out of control.

He found himself sliding down the wall until he hit the ground. His hands gripping opposite shoulders as his body began to rock and shake uncontrollable like his breath escaping his nose. Both of his lips were drawn into his mouth as he bit and chewed on them to achieve some level of comfort, but it didn’t come. The feeling of dread and anxiety only rose with each tear that he shed. He felt himself falling deeper and deeper into a pit of anxious thoughts until there was a new sound… it was faint at first but the more he focused on it the easier it became to breathe. It was the piano in his father’s study, a mere twenty feet away. A soft melody that was all too familiar and comforting at the same time. One of Orion’s compositions danced from the study; one composition that he had written for Sirius when he was younger titled Merci, Mon Fils in Db Major.

The song continued until Sirius could breathe and the physical pain subsided, but the tears continued to fall. It was as if a new wound ripped open within him that was patched over a long time ago. A rusted pipe that finally bursts through the layers of paint and plaster that he had used to disguise it. Flashing images of his father’s face looped through his mind; knowing he’d never hear his voice again, never watch him play the piano again, never hear him open the door to check on him at night before… before everything happened, and it got so much worse. Never hear his father’s barking laughter when Sirius got back from Hogwarts and told him about all the pranks he had pulled. As much as Sirius hated to admit it… he missed his father, he missed him more than he thought possible… twenty years of pain, resentment and mourning hit him… that was until he heard the piano again… and it was all replaced with rage.

The only living thing in this house, aside from Sirius, was that elf. How dare he play his father’s piano? How dare he manipulate a song that meant so much?

Blind, drunken anger carried Sirius toward the warm orange glow that framed the door to Orion’s study. The keys of the piano moved quicker and more furiously as Sirius got closer. Stumbling over his own feet like a crazed bull, he threw himself toward the door that was slightly ajar.

“Where are you?” Sirius hissed through gritted teeth. “How DARE you use my father’s study for your own sick amusement?”

Kreacher’s sobs could be heard emanating from under Orion’s desk. Sirius ran around the back of the desk and ripped the chair out from behind it as he bellowed “OUT HERE NOW!”

Kreacher managed to shimmy his way out from under the front panel of the desk so he could escape from his new master. “What have you been doing in here?” Sirius screamed as he watched the elf run under the piano stool. “Play me another tune! Get out and PLAY!”

“I didn’t do anything, Master! The piano played on its own. I was dusting the shelves.” Kreacher croaked from under the stool.

“Oh, yes! So believable!” Sirius’s voice was like venom. “Why that song? Huh? Kreacher! Why did you play that song?”

“I am only permitted to touch the piano to clean it, Master! Late Master Orion would not allow for anyone other than yourself to play his piano.” Kreacher justified.

“Oh, I see! I see what you’re doing! Very clever!”

“Late Master Orion cared deeply-” Kreacher was cut off by Sirius drunken screaming.

“You think the old git cared about you! You think he would save you! You think he would help you! He hated you! He hated you!” Sirius continued. “The only thing that man loved was a bottle! He never cared about you!” Sirius swept his arms across the copious shelves still filled with rows of bottles and decanters alike, so they’d shatter on the floor. He braced his arms against the shelving unit for a moment watching the broken glass roll across the floor before looking back up at the shelf when he heard a gentle clinking. The shelves were replenished as if brand new. A frustrated cry left Sirius and rebounded through the house.

Marching over the elf’s hiding spot Sirius began to interrogate Kreacher. “What is it about this room that you cling to so much? Huh?” Sirius booted the stool from over the top of the elf before crouching down and grabbing him by his cloth smock. “You hated the old git! He used to boot you round like a ball when he was drunk while I was here.” Sirius caught a glimpse of himself in Kreacher terrified eyes and what he saw made his stomach turn – the likeness was uncanny. You could think that a drunken Orion was staring right back at you and this knocked Sirius back to reality and made him drop the elf.

Kreacher retreated toward the door as Sirius seated himself on one of the plush, dark green velvet armchairs. His elbows rested on his knees; hands buried in his hair while his nails softly scraped against his scalp. Sirius began to wonder if his monologue was really about the elf or about himself. "Kreacher," Sirius called out more softly than he had ever spoken to him.

Whether it was out of duty, fear, or a mixture of the two; Kreacher's whimpers could be heard reapproaching the room but he did not enter, opting to remain in the door frame. “Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black. What do you require, Master?”

“I want you to answer my question.” Sirius exhaled before forcing his drunken eyes to focus on the elf. “Why do you cling to this room so much?”

“Late Master Orion used to play every night after Master Sirius left. Late Master Orion used to get Kreacher to sit on the stool next to him as young Master Sirius had and watch him play. Oh, how Master Orion cried for young Master Sirius when he left. Master Orion used to hug Kreacher, wishing young Master Sirius would return.”

Sirius was taken back by this but managed to whisper. “He did what?”

“Master Orion struggled greatly after you left, sir; he insisted that he couldn’t lose you, he was desperate to get you to return. The arguments between him and Mistress when you had been burnt off the tapestry were… so destructive and violent. It took Great Master Arcturus and Master Alphard to resolve the situation. Master Orion set the whole tapestry alight saying if his son was not welcome on the family tree then there should be no tapestry.”

Sirius did not know how to process this. “But the tapestry is still hung in the house, Kreacher. Do not lie to me.”

“Great Master Arcturus and Master Alphard made it anew. That is why there are so many skeletons on the tree where neither could remember the relative face. They burnt every member that was not deemed appropriate. The faces were scorn from the tree once more.” Kreacher finished. “Is there anything else you require, Master?”

“Yes, actually. There is one more thing. The tapestry doesn’t note Orion’s first wife, Y/N L/N. I wish to know why.”

Kreacher’s eyes bulged from his head. “Kreacher is forbidden to say those words.” Kreacher put forward his arm to display an unknown sequence of ancient runes. “If Kreacher does, he will die and no longer be able to serve the noble house of Black.”

“You will tell me, Kreacher!” Sirius banged his hands off the armrest and stood up making the elf flinch. Kreacher meekly entered the room, quickly darting behind the door to Orion’s coat stand and pointed toward Orion’s jacket pocket.

“Kreacher cannot speak it. However, there is another way to find the answers you are looking for.” Sirius stumbled to the jacket and felt the pockets. He felt something hard within one of them. When he reached inside, he found a small ornate silver key. “Perhaps, Master can show you himself.” Sirius turned to Kreacher to see him pointing toward one of Orion’s untouched bookcases where one solitary cigar box was placed. “As Master aged and his alcoholic affliction worsened, Master couldn’t remember his life very well, so he began to store his memories as to never forget them. Kreacher was to tend to them and ensure their safety for Master.”

Once opened, Sirius realised it was a miniature Pensieve; miniature was a stretch – the box had been charmed to hold a large number of memories from his departed father’s life. Sirius summoned the memories about Y/N L/N. This was one secret Sirius wasn’t prepared to let the Black family keep any longer. He had to know who she was and why she was so important to Orion. Why did Arcturus refuse to let anyone say her name? Why wasn’t she on the tree or at least scorched off? When did Orion marry Y/N L/N? Why did she die? How did she die? Was her death linked to the reasoning for the marriage between Orion and Walburga so rushed?

Orion’s choice of labelling was rather simple yet personal fashion, with each vial associated with the names of his work and date. For a second, it felt wrong to go through all of Orion's memories but how else would Sirius find the answers he needed?

Sirius charmed the piano to play through his father's best pieces which matched with the associated memory. “How better to get to know you, dad?” Sirius bitterly thought aloud. The piano began to play a beautiful cacophony of notes which form The First Dance in C minor.

Pouring the memory into the Pensieve, Sirius dove headfirst into his father’s life.

[elindae-writes]

megatron calls in to QVC

Karen claps her hands. "Hello, lovelies! We just finished up Friday Night Beauty and now I will walk us through some lovely decorations you can craft and touch up your home with." She walks out into a fake outdoors garden, sniffs a plastic rose, and then cheerfully stands behind a white picnic table with craft supplies scattered all over it.

The phone rings.

"Ooh! Our first caller. Let's see who wants to make a lovely calligraphy chalkboard name sign with us first!"

The phone line clicks. Heavy staticky breathing rasps over. The caller coughs. "it is your lord calling."

Karen blinks. "Oh? Heh, this caller has a sense of humor!"

A technician out of view of the recording camera rolls up a wheeled stand with a small TV on it. It has Megatron's 24/7 Facebook livestream on it. Lord Megatron, caller of QVC, is sat before a rusty metal table with an identical set of craft supplies laid out on it.

"i saw the ad for this craft-time on your facebook page," he wheezes. "let us craft together, karen."

Karen gulps. "Okay. O-okay. Let's get started."

Happy music begins playing.

"you always were my favorite qvc host," Megatron grunts.

Karen's smile becomes very fake. "O-oh, thank you--"

"you are nothing like that other bitchy host. monica. god."

Monica is standing off to the side of the set. She gasps.

"the last time she tried a crafting activity she just fucked it all up. she can't make a wholesome chalkboard home sign. shame upon her." Megatron slams his fist down onto his desk to accentuate his point. QVC is now airing both their broadcast and Megatron's side-by-side.

Karen shakily gestures at the craft supplies upon her table. "And, uh, what would you like your sign to say, my Lord?"

He hums in thought. "mhmm. live, love, laugh, lord."

Karen claps her hands and nods vigorously. "Excellent choice, my Lord."

She sets to work constructing it and explaining how to do so.

"fuck," Megatron mutters.

"My Lord?"

"i accidentally stabbed my sign with the tip of my talon." It is now embedded on his talon. He waves it around and it doesn't dislodge itself. "what is the protocol for when your tasteful home decor gets stabbed onto your claw?"

Karen gulps. "You, uh, ask a friend to take it off."

Megatron nods. "indeed. SOUNDWAVE. assist your lord with his diy."

Soundwave hovers on the edge of the camera's view.

"soundwave. cometh. why are you so hesitant? perhaps starscream is more willing. STARSCREAM. diy or die."

Starscream shakily steps into view, slides the chalkboard sign off of Megatron's talon, and then runs out of view. He sobs.

Karen clears her throat. "Y-you know, I created signs just like these for my twin son's shared room. We made them together."

"oh? i have my own twins."

"Really?"

"yes. one is an f-16-C fighting falcon heat-seeking missile equipped fighter jet and the other is a general atomics MQ-9 spy drone reaper."

"...Oh."

"indeed," Megatron rumbles. "i used to have a brother but then he became a backstabbing bitch eighteen-wheeler."

"..."

"so i am brotherless," Megatron finishes. He seems satisfied with himself.

Karen's mouth is suddenly dry. "I see."

"do you? must i lift the blindness from your eyes, oh karen? do you have any siblings, karen?"

Karen reviews her options. She could lie and say no. But... she can't help but get the sense that Lord Megatron would likely find out that she lied about the existence of Karl.

"Karl. His name is, um, Karl."

"kaarrllll," he huffs. "has he ever betrayed you?"

"Ah, no?"

"has he now? or has he just not yet?" A growl vibrates through the phone line. The chalkboard in Megatron's grasp snaps in half. He quickly tosses it aside and grabs a new one. The new one is heart-shaped.

"He wouldn't betray me--"

"THAT IS WHAT THEY ALL SAY, BLOOD BROTHERS AND ADOPTED ONES ALIKE," Megatron's voice booms. "trust me, karen, when i say that soon this 'karl' character will konspire against you."

"Um."

"soon you will be there before the senate, ohhhh, the eyes of the elites allllll upooonnnn you--"

"Um?"

"--and you will be ready to take your place as lord over all of them! and then? and then?"

More heavy breathing rasps over the phone.

"And then?" Karen asks.

"karl will strike! he will use his dastardly skills to claim the Matrix of Leadership and embed it into his own being so that only he can be privy to the whisperings of the gods," Megatron hisses. "prepare, karen, prepare. life outside your astroturfed fake garden studio is a cruel one. what are karl's skills?"

"Um. H-he works at McDonald's."

Megatron sharply inhales. A sudden silence buzzes over the phone line.

"M-my Lord? My Lord?"

"mcdonald's, you say?"

The phone rings.

"Oh! A new caller."

She accepts the call.

"MEGATRON," Optimus says.

"oh!" Megatron growls. "look who decided to make his grand debut! and during my craft time, no less."

"Friday Night Craftpalooza is the right of every sentient being. It is not meant for just you."

"you took the matrix away from me! you took cybertron away from me! and most horribly, you took yourself away from me, orion! and now?! you have taken away my craft time."

"You took all of those things, including craft time, away from yourself, Megatron," Optimus says. "You must deal with the consequences of this war and of this craft time."

Karen's jaw drops. Soundwave lunges in and rips the phone out of Megatron's grasp. He runs off with it.

Megatron glares. He then reaches under the desk and--oh no--

He grabs a new phone.

He calls in to QVC. Karen hesitantly picks it up.

"karen," Megatron says suddenly. "i want to talk to the manager."

part 2 is here

[throwaway3844893]

Chapter One of my Post-Ballad fic!

Here is chapter one of my fanfic, Vipers and Virtues, a continuation of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and what I think may have happened to Lucy Gray Baird at the end. The full fic, on ao3, can be found here.

I lay in the underbrush, my breathing slow as I calm my beating heart. Night has fallen, and I stare up at the stars. They're hard to see, as a fog has settled, but I spot the Orion constellation easily. It shines bright, and I take it as a symbol of hope from the stars. They've always looked out for me, and you're never lost when they're around you.. I once believed my destiny was written in them, but Coriolanus is long gone.

    Coriolanus.

    His name is poison in my mind. I was so stupid to trust him. The moment he'd told me he was responsible for three deaths, and his avoidance of my question, I pieced it all together. The look on his face at the hanging tree wasn't grief. It was guilt. Coriolanus had blamed Mayfair and Billy Taupe's murder on Sejanus, despite killing Mayfair himself. Sejanus just wanted a better life. We all wanted a better life. Sejanus, a district boy... it all made sense. How Coriolanus disliked him, as subtle as he tried to conceal it. He viewed Sejanus as he viewed the rest of us: inhumane. Lesser beings. Savages. If it had been his choice, he would've left Sejanus in the Games to die in the hands of Reaper or the snakes. I took it upon myself to thank the stars for the snakes' behavior toward me, perhaps the one act of kindness Coriolanus provided me. Yet, he may have done it for himself, not for me. I was no stranger to the gifts presented to the mentors. If I won, he received a full scholarship to the Capitol's university, as well as fame amongst the Capitol. His acts were not out of care for me, they were to ensure his success. While I get nothing, he gets everything.

I can feel my heart pulsating in my arm where one of his rapid-fire shots struck me. I clutch it tightly as blood flows between my fingers. Sticky, red, hot. It reminds me of Reaper's pile of bodies in the arena. I tremble at the thought. Despite my efforts, memories of the Games will always remain.

It's been a few hours since Coriolanus fled, so I make myself stand. Whether it be from laying for so long or blood loss, I'm not sure exactly, but my head swims and I lean on the tree next to me for support. My legs tingling, I take one step, then another. A twig snaps under my foot. I flinch, but the only ones listening are the mockingjays above me. I watch one spread its wings and flap away in the direction of District 12, the only home I've ever known. This is no time for sentiment, so I continue my journey toward the lake. Thorns prick me, and more than once a branch scrapes me, but I continue on, determined to reach the small shed at the edge of the lake. Coriolanus must've fled back to the headquarters. If he reports me, I have to flee, and quickly, but I'm exhausted. I need to tend to my wounds and drink.

As I clear through the forest, I see a warped glint of light, signifying the lake is nearby. I let out a jovial cry, panting as I continue through the bushes. Twigs snap and trees rustle, but I don't care. The dirt beneath me gets slicker, and I catch myself half-running toward the water. Exhaustion, heat, and dehydration catch up to me, and I slide down the rest of the way, mud caking my legs as I submerge myself into the fresh, cool water. Shaking, I put my hands together and splash water on my face, letting the dirt trail off in little streams. I scoop water into my mouth, rejoicing in the freshness and how it soothes my aching throat. My arm angrily jabs in pain, reminding me of my wounds, and I slow my motions. On the shore, I find a large leaf and ball it up before wetting it. I bring myself to a shallower end, sitting upright as I assess my body. My legs are riddled with scratches and dirt, though those are the least of my worries. My left arm is caked in blood, the gunshot aching. The pressure I've applied to it helped a great deal, but if I don't treat it soon, it could become infected. My best bet would be to fashion a tourniquet, but I don't have any spare fabric on me. Unless Coriolanus left his scarf near the trap.

Begrudgingly, I stand up, despite my aching loins. I walk out of the sopping mud, my legs once again covered by the thick soil. I continued uphill, retracing my steps, carefully this time. For all I know, the snake, albeit it's limited danger, could still be around. Soon, I spot it, the small patch of orange that was his scarf. It had been trampled on, made obvious by the dirt stains and rumpled effect of it, but I hunch over and reach my left hand out to it, right hand still gripping my arm, and-

The snake returns, jumping at me in a flash. I recoil quickly, stumbling back a few steps. He seems to be guarding the scarf, circling around it while he hisses at me. His tongue darts out to me and I look from side to side, trying to figure out which angle to take it from. Sure, he isn't poisonous, but a snakebite on top of a gunshot wound? It increases the chances of infection, and in the woods, an infection could be a death sentence. Cautiously, I take another step back, watching his movements. Considering I set the trap with him and the scarf, any attachment was my fault. How ironic. Strange, though, how it protected something it was used to. It reminded me of the muttations that were dropped in the arena, how they protected me. The scarf smelled like Coriolanus, and it'd struck Coriolanus. It must have a connection with him.

No. I shook my head. This wasn't a mutt, it was a real creature, formed biologically, not in a lab. It needed a distraction, not a forged connection. I still myself, creeping down as slowly as I can, my legs barely touching the twig-filled ground. The snake recoiled, sticking its tongue out as it slowly backed away, eyes trained on me. I still, looking slightly to the left for anything I can use. All I can see is thick weeds and thorns, overgrown tree roots and puddles from the rain that haven't dried completely. I lean slightly, adjusting my weight so as to not make a sound. It's a very awkward position, my right hand grasping my arm, dried blood caked and sticky between my fingers, my entire body wobbling on its left side, my left and extended outward. It doesn't help that I'm in a dress. My eyes remain on the snake, who has completely retreated in its own circle on top of the scarf. I lower my hand, wincing as I get pricked by a thorn, but make no noise. My hand continues to lower until I touch soggy ground and drag it around. Soon, my fingers land on something smooth and solid, and I grab it. Or, at least, attempt to. Half of it is lodged in the thick mud, and in this position, with my weakened arm, it's nearly impossible. I bring my nails to the side, thankful for the lack of clippers in my old home, and begin to rake at the side of the mud. It's grueling work, but after a few minutes I have one side completely dislodged. I wipe my fingers, slippery with mud, on my dress, and dislodge the rock. Due to the force, my arm shoots up quickly and sends a bit of dirt toward the snake. I flinch, but it doesn't budge.

I groan quietly as I stand up, my muscles protesting. I need to get rest, and quickly. If I can't get that scarf, it's hopeless. The chance of getting an infection is low, but a risk is a risk. I raise my arm as high as I can without pain, which isn't very high, and throw the rock. It makes a loud thump, causing the snake to jump and bolt after it. In my haste to grab the scarf, I fall to my knees and blindly reach around for the scarf. I grab hold of it before slipping straight on my face with a grunt, loud enough to divert the snake's attention. It slithers back toward, fangs outstretched. I turn away, and suddenly I'm slipping. Down, down I go, running into twigs, bushes, and thorns, scraping and scratching everywhere. I stop with a thump against a particularly large tree root, gathering my bearings. I still have the scarf, a bright orange in the moonlight, and climb over the tree root. I can no longer see the snake, and the lake is only a few yards away. I sigh in relief once more, grabbing hold of a few sticks as I continue to the water. I waste no time in getting in, submerging myself fully before swimming to the shore nearest the shed. My stomach grumbles, my cuts sting, my arm screams in pain, everything hurts. Exhaustion tries to take over, but for my own survival, I must keep going. I manage to clean off my scrapes with a single hand, and then remove the pressure. I almost vomit at the sight of my arm, all bloody and holy, but I take to cleaning it, ignoring the stinging, before assessing the damage.

It was a clean shot, but the bullet didn't go all the way through. There is no way for me to remove it, so I have to hope for the best. Whatever "the best" is. I gulp down some water, before using the sticks and scarf to fashion a tourniquet. It's nowhere near perfect, and quite messy, but the best I can do. I drink some more water and properly rinse the dirt out of my hair before rising and heading toward the shed. I shiver a bit, and look to the sky. It's about midnight now. If Coriolanus were to alert the other Peacekeepers, wouldn't they have come by now? Or was he waiting until the morning? Either way, I have to rest up to keep myself moving by sunrise.

Only the embers of the fire I'd started hours ago remained, and the stench of burnt fish filled the room. Of course, Coriolanus had burnt the food. The satchel containing the guns that killed Billy Taupe and Mayfair was missing, too. Not that I care. Those weapons held the truth about their murders; It wasn't Sejanus, it was Coriolanus who'd killed them. Rightfully so, but Sejanus had hung because of Coriolanus' lies. You cannot come back from that.

I assess what's left: my metal can, some matches, the dry wood, a few packages of cracked nuts, courtesy of Maude Ivory, a bottle of water, and our fishing hooks. I displaced my knife somewhere near the katniss roots, but my hunt for it will begin tomorrow morning. I pile a few sacks on top of each other as a makeshift pillow, chew on a few tasteless nuts, and allow myself to drift to sleep.

Are you, are you

Coriolanus' voice rings in my ears. I can hear him, but I can't see him. I can't see anything. My eyes are covered, and stiff hands lead me down a gravel path. Someone is walking beside me, their feet dragging, and I can hear murmurs all around. I stumble on something large, but the hand pulls me back up and growls "Keep moving."

Coming to the tree

Blindly, I do. My only guide is the person behind me, who walks straight up, as if he has a purpose. The murmurs become louder, and the ground becomes bumpier as we continue our journey. When my foot knocks on wood, we halt to a stop.

Where they strung up a man they say murdered three?

The sack is removed from my head, and I gaze up at the hanging tree. My mouth opens in terror, and I see the hand on my shoulder is that of a Peacekeeper's. I look to my side, and my partner is Maude Ivory. "Maude Ivory?" I hiss, my heart beating wildly. I look around me, seeing the dusty, lined faces of the people of my district. "What's happening?"

Strange things did happen here

Tears streak through her dirt-covered face. "I'm sorry," she whimpers, lips trembling. She heaves, and a loud sob comes out. I shush her before a loud stomp grabs my attention, and I look up the platform. Two nooses, as customary, are tied to branches above trap doors. It only takes me a moment to register that they're for us. My jaw drops, and I look to Maude in horror, who is stuck on a silent sob. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she sobs, before our Peacekeepers lead us up the stairs of the platform. I'm trembling, but I keep a straight face. I remember something Coriolanus said to me once, in one of our private meetings before the games. Never let them see you bleed. I steady myself, climbing the stairs on my own accord. His voice continues to ring throughout the crowd.

No stranger would it be

I step on the trapdoor as Maude Ivory's Peacekeeper pushes her on hers before straightening her back. We stand tall, facing members of our district. Maude Ivory is hyperventilating, and I look at her, pressing my finger to my mouth. It's the only solace I can give her. There is no comfort: this is how the Covey's end. I spot our friends in the crowd, and they present grim faces.

Someone clears their throat behind us and begins to speak. "On this day, we bring you the faces of two traitors: Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray Baird. They have betrayed the Capitol, therefore all of Panem, and are charged for the murders of Billy Taupe and Mayfair Lipp. The weapons found in this satchel-" I assume the speaker holds up a satchel- "are confirmed to be those that caused the death of the mourned. Near the weapons we found Lucy Gray Baird, asleep in a shed, and upon the search of her home found Miss Maude Ivory, both popular members of the Covey. The hunt for the rest continues."

Murder? Treason? We'd done nothing. Maude Ivory, out of the two of us, was most innocent. She discovered the bodies, I was merely a witness to their murders! I'd never even touched the weapons, where was the proof I'd touched them? Why wasn't Coriolanus standing up for me? Surely, Sejanus had already been hung, had they not put the case to rest? Spruce was dead as well, so was Lils. Everyone connected was dead. Except Coriolanus. Something he said to me pinged. Snow lands on top.

No matter what, the blood on his hands would be placed on someone else. Who else died at his expense? First Bobbin, then Mayfair, then Sejanus... who else? Maude Ivory? Me? The rest of the Coveys? What was his plan, to kill off everyone in District 12? Become Head Peacekeeper? There was no prize in that. Then, I remember how he hoped to become a national hero. To return to the Capitol, a place he spoke so fondly of.

His selfishness got the best of him. He'd blamed me, said I framed him and Sejanus, to save himself. Coriolanus shows no mercy. Snow lands on top.

Someone stepped beside me, slipping the noose over my head. I swallow, looking straight ahead. I would be avenged. A hand brushes against my skin as the noose slips over me, a hand that I know all too well. "Coriolanus," I say under my breath, no kindness in my voice. I can sense his smile next to me.

"Lucy Gray," He murmurs, almost mocking me. "How shocked I was, learning of your involvement in the deaths of these poor citizens." Now, he was. I flare my nostrils, continuing to look ahead. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of meeting my eye.

"You'll pay for this," I growl, my voice harsh. He merely chuckles before whispering his mantra in my ear.

"Snow lands on top."

I can tell he goes to the trap door, to open it, to conduct the execution. Quietly, I hear him.

If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree

Before he opens it, I hear the mockingjays begin to sing. It gives me satisfaction, and I smile before the trap door is opened beneath me.

I wake up in a cold sweat, grasping at my throat. I breathe heavily, taking in my surroundings. Sunlight spills in through the lone windows, and I gather my bearings. Slowly, I remove the satchel from under my head, and begin to fill it with my few supplies. For good measure, I take all but two dry logs. I remove all traces of myself, leaving everything the way it was, spare the missing logs. If the Coveys came looking for me, they'd know I was long gone. I step out of the shed silently, rubbing my eyes as I adjust to the sunlight. The sun is still rising, and I couldn't have gotten more than six hours of sleep, but the more distance between me and District 12, the better. I drink from the lake and refill my water bottle, then set off to find the katniss roots. Sure enough, my knife lay abandoned, a few uprooted katniss roots surrounding it. I grab a few more and store them for good measure. I return to the shed, sure to cover my tracks, and begin to follow the lake. I wade knee-height in it to hide my tracks, while also keeping note of any fish that swim by. The sun bears down on me, proving it will be a hot day. I'm thankful I have the lake near me. After putting an hour between me and the shed, I begin to hum the tune about Clementine. It's a sad song, really. Soon, a mockingjay picks up, and the forest lightens up with my song. They tell me that I'm not really alone.

Another few miles down, I find a fallen tree on the side of the lake and allow myself to rest. I sit back, basking in the sunlight as I assess my wound. The gunshot still aches, and the skin I can see is a bright red. I remove the makeshift tourniquet and wash my skin again, trying not to grimace at how awful it appears. I fasten it with new sticks, bathing my feet in the water. It's shaded here, and I watch a small bunny hop behind me. She pauses, staring at me as her nose quivers. I watch her deep, black eyes widen. The cloud moves and the sun shines down upon her as she goes back on all fours. How beautiful, a wild animal, free from the horrors of the world. She'd probably never encountered a human. Probably never again. The flowers blooming behind her created a perfect image, and if I were a skilled painter, I'd have painted the scene before me in a heartbeat. I feel a pang in my stomach. Despite my hunger, I let her roam free. She didn't choose her life, who am I to dictate hers? I don't need any more blood on my hands, human or animal. She hops away, heading east through the foliage. I watch her go.

I will not end up like Coriolanus. I refuse.

Despite that reasoning, after ten moments of rest I begin to fish. I catch some easily, quickly ending their misery with my knife and eating one raw. It's gross, and a bit demeaning, but anything to keep myself alive and healthy. I store the remaining two in a spare satchel before standing and continuing to wade down the path. The forest grows thicker, and soon I'm stuck with no shore, just deep water surrounded by thick bushes and overgrown trees. Nobody has stepped foot here in years, maybe decades. I would eventually have to swim to keep going, and that's not good if I end up in a storm. I turn around and walk the mile back to where I saw the bunny. All is still, and just as I left it. I sit down against the log again and drink, before rising and heading east, toward the bunny. Perhaps she was my savior. I bend under low branches and navigate through thorns, the lake behind me. There are still puddles around me, and it rains often. If I run out of water, I'll be able to follow my tracks back to the lake. I continue my trek until nightfall with no incident, sweating profusely. There are many miles between not just me and the lake, but me and District 12. The further I go from there, the closer to freedom, to the north. I've traveled east for some time now, but I can continue north whenever I please. Anywhere that isn't Capitol is good to me.

There's a large willow tree a few yards away from me, and I cross over to it easily. Slinging my satchel over my back, I begin to scale the tree, climbing until the vines conceal me and I find a sturdy branch to lay on. It isn't the comfiest, but if I fall I'll have a soft landing. Not that I plan on falling.

For the first time in my life, I peacefully lull off to sleep without danger of being discovered.

[honeybunny-sawamura]

Ushijima Wakatoshi fluff

[10:08 PM] “There you are,” You tear your eyes away from the night sky to watch Wakatoshi slip through a small opening of the sliding glass door. The noise from the party spills out excitedly then gets muffled the moment your fiancé closes the door behind him. He’s still got his birthday hat on him crookedly from when Hoshiumi crowned it upon his head and you can’t help the huff of amusement that escapes you.

“Here I am,” you softly reply before returning your gaze to the deep navy sea above you and Toshi. For a moment, there is silence while your eyes sail from star to star, then the wooden floor of the patio creaks as your fiancé starts to make his way towards you. You trace a pathway from Orion to the moon which each step you hear him take before you feel his strong arms wrap around your waist to pull you close to him. A smile spreads on your lips when you feel his muscles relax once he has you in his embrace,

“Tired?” you inquire, wondering if he had enough of the rowdy party his friends and team are throwing for him. Toshi doesn’t answer right away and instead goes to bury his face in the crook of your neck. You reach up to gently pat the side of his head then turn slightly to press a kiss to his hair, but the birthday hat blocks you. You laugh at that yet make no motion to move it aside nor remove it, you find it cute on him. The arms around your middle tighten a tad and you can feel your fiancé breathe in.

“Toshi?” you call out quietly, as if you don’t want the stars to hear. He gives a slight grunt,

“I wanted to see where you had gone,” Toshi mumbles and you feel a tad guilty.

“Sorry, dear... It was getting too loud, so I stepped out for a bit. I promise I was gonna head back in shortly but... The night sky looks so nice right now and I-,”

“We can stay out here for a bit,” he interrupts you. It takes you by surprise for a moment until it registers what he really means: he just wants to be alone with you right now. You nod in response and rest both your hands against his arms that are holding you too him. The two of you bask in the moonlight while listening to the crickets’ chirp and the base of the party’s music thrum against the walls of the house. It feels like you and Toshi are in a little word for just the two of you and want to make the most of it before someone finds out you guys are missing: from Wakataoshi’s own birthday celebration. In honesty though, Toshi would have been content if it was just you and him. That’s all he wants: just you.

“Happy Birthday, Wakatoshi. I love you”

“I love you too,”

[georgiapeach30513]

Can you write about Aster and Beck babysitting Brooks? I feel like they’d steal him for practice before the twins are born!

Aster and Becks and their Brookie!! Beck become extra attached with Brooks because of him almost being a father, but also he was the first person that Story let hold him that wasn't Carter. Brooks was Story's itty bitty baby, and she felt safe with Becks holding him, because he was a doctor, but she could also feel this need for Beck to hold him. Even after Orion and Atlas are born, Beck still has such a sweet relationship with Brookie.

Let me also say, they weren't far away from Story. Not only did she have a bit of PPA with Brooks, but she wanted to exclusively nurse. But the Baizen Castle is a big house, and it helps her get some sleep and cuddles with her boys. Especially her biggest baby Archie.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Big Huge Titans

Summary:  Beck and Az babysit Brookie

Pairings:  Aster X Beck, Brooks

Rating:  sweet

Warnings: sweet Becks, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  800

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Aster Drysdale Masterlist

"Give me the Brookie!” Beck makes grabby hands at Story who cradles that little baby so tight to her.  “Ree, we talked about this.  Aster and I are here in the castle.  Spend time with that sweet Archie, take a nap, whatever..”

“He’s just so little.”

“I know,” he agrees.  His voice softening when he sees her struggling.  “I’m a doctor.  We’re all in the same house,” he looks down at Archer who clings on to his mom’s leg.  “And I know a little boy that needs his mother.  It’ll be good practice for me and Az, and I’ll get you if we need you.”

She hands the tiny little baby over to Beck, and needing someone to hold onto, picks up Archer, clinging to her biggest mama’s boy.  Otto spending the day with Carter, and Zephyr with Beau and James.  She knows how much Archie needs her, especially with the birth of Brooks.

“I have pumped, but I would prefer to nurse.  He fed right before you guys got here, so he should be fine for awhile,” she pets at his soft skin, and tilts her head looking at Aster and Beck.  “I’m trying,” she whispers pressing a soft kiss on Brooks’ forehead, leaving a tear on his tiny cheek.  “Now, Archie, it’s you and me baby.  Let’s go to the play room, and we’ll do whatever you want,” she looks at her sister and Beck whispering a thank you before she walks up the stairs.

“He’s so tiny,” Aster reaffirms.  Her hands rubbing on her belly getting scared.  “Twins are small.”

“Dis Brookie boy is extra small though.  He was premature, Azzie, it’s different.  Wook, mama is feeding him good.  Wook at this extra chin you’re getting buddy,” Beck plays around with his chin, causing the tiny baby to squeak out a smile.  

Aster smiles fondly at Beck as he carries the small baby over to the couch, holding him tightly to his chest just so he can look at him.  Looking at him with the same love that he looks at Ellie, and soon their own babies.  “I can’t wait, Az.  Just you holding Orion, me holding Atlas, or whichever way you want to do it.  Ellie sitting in between us as she smiles at the brothers she didn’t want.”

“She just wanted a sister,” she coos.

“Yeah, well just means we gotta do this again,” Aster rolls her eyes as him.  “You said you’d give me two more tries to get a girl.  How about, two more kids?” Aster doesn’t respond only gives him a sweet kiss.  He looks back down at that tiny baby in his arms, “Is it going to feel like this with Atlas and Orion?”

“Oh, Moonbeam, it’s going to feel like this and better.  Hand me the Brookie,” handing the baby over to Aster, even though he doesn’t want to.  She grabs his and presses it against her belly.  “That right there, that is our big boy Atlas.  He is our active boy.  He’s always moving, and I’m pretty sure he’s the one that likes spicy pickles.”

Aster slides Beck’s hand over to the other side of her stomach, this time a bit lower, “And this, he’s our little Orion.  He’s our smaller baby.  I think he’s going to be just like you.  He’s always so calm, but he gets hiccups a lot.  he’s also the one that reacts the most to your singing.  Even if it’s not great.”

“I worry that I won’t be a good father.”

Aster looks up from Brooks and at her sweet husband’s face.  “You already are a good father.  Dare I say the best.  You’re a great uncle.  I don’t know if you know, but it’s not easy for Story to give up this baby to someone.  She needs this, and needs you to show her it’s okay to let go.  And I know, no matter what happens, if we get our own itty bitty baby, or they’re both these big huge titans, that you my handsome, smart, witty, funny, sexy, adorable, amazing husband are going to be perfect for our boys.”

“Titans, huh?” she gives him a nod.  “Even though their names are based on Greek mythology, neither one of them are titans.”

“They’ll be our titans, Moonbeam.”

Beck leans over, capturing her lips with his, “I love you Starlight.”

“I love you too, AstroBoy.”

“We gotta talk to your dad about a better name for me,” Beck grimaces, and then shrugs, “It’s gotta be better than Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum though.  Pin Cushion is pretty bad, even though BFG does suit Chris better.”

Masterlist

[zombieheroine]

Pride Before a Fall

Pairing: Megatron/Optimus Rating: G Word count: 1178

* To have Orion Pax back was something Megatron could have never predicted nor prepared for. Of course he was nothing if not adaptable, but the situation made him feel like Primus Themselves was mocking him while also reminding him of how old he was. Still, he would have been a fool not to take advantage of one of Iacon’s famed archivists, especially when the code giving him trouble was Iaconian in origin.

But for all his confidence, Megatron still stood outside the cabin he had put Orion in to work on one of the computer modules. He had to admit that he was hesitating, two energon cubes in servo and unsure what to expect or how to go forward. He gritted his dentae and thought furiously. It wasn’t simply Orion who had changed over the eons of war, and not even just for the designation and the Matrix, but Megatron had changed too. Megatron had been just a simple miner turned gladiator back then, but now he was an accomplished warlord, a great warrior like no other, stronger and more ruthless than he could have even dreamed himself. It had been so long since he’d been scrambling for support, drafting his army and only dreaming of a revolution, that he didn’t even remember what it had been like. Standing alone in the dark hallway of his warship and hesitating, Megatron tried to remember the mech Orion was expecting to see. Of course Orion wouldn’t question much, he must have been confused and uncertain as well having had so much of his processor rearranged suddenly, but no matter how confused he would still see that the humble revolutionary Megatronus and the warlord Megatron were just as different as Orion Pax and Optimus Prime were. For now his story was holding up, but for how long he couldn’t tell. Still no matter the case, head on towards the challenge was his main tactic, so after a moment of bracing, Megatron simply opened the door and stepped inside. The air was slightly warmer inside with the computer module active, all its units humming and screens bright. Orion Pax stood with his back to Megatron, his digits flying over the keys, feeding in command after command, then switching to a new window to fix this or that line of code, browsing to the exact correct spot through thousands and thousands of lines. “Spare a moment for refueling, old friend,” Megatron suggested, pretending like he wasn’t impatient. “Surely your work can wait for you to regain your strength.” Orion looked over his shoulder and smiled at him. The glow of his blue optics was soft and kind in a way Megatron had forgotten. It was a startling sight. “Yes, of course,” Orion easily replied, his voice lighter than it had been in so very long. Only now Megatron realized that it wasn’t due to any physical alteration that Optimus sounded different, simply to grim exhaustion and jadedness, all things that Orion Pax lacked. Orion let his servos slide off the console and he turned. “Thank you for your consideration, Megatronus. You are very thoughtful.” “Some things don’t change,” Megatron replied, offering one cube to Orion when he approached and got a smile in return. It was curious to see Orion on Optimus’ face. It was disorienting to see all the marks of eons of travel and war on a face that also wore an unburdened, easy smile. Together they walked over to the side of the room and sat on a windowsill type of a niche in the wall, a window seat without a window, and drank the energon together. Megatron wasn’t used to company like this. It had been a good while since he had shared a meal with anyone, and he could count the times he had been friendly with anyone in his whole lifetime with the digits of one servo. Company like this wasn’t for him, nor for the life he was supposed to lead. Megatron felt a foreign kind of awkwardness while sitting there, sipping energon and keeping company to an old friend behind the face of his oldest enemy. Some part of him expected the illusion to collapse onto itself and its own absurdity, but by every passing moment it didn’t, his pride in himself grew. “You know, Lord Megatronus,” Orion said suddenly with the deep rumble of Optimus’ voice, barely suppressing a laugh at the title, “it still confuses me, how much has changed while I was in stasis.” Megatron elected to ignore the friendly humour, simply grunted as a sign that he was listening. Orion seemed relaxed, leaning back against the wall with his ankles crossed. “Many things are still too much for me, like… How such a dear friend

like… Well, you know, you filled me in, after all,” he said, momentarily saddened but once again cheerier when he continued: “But you are such a relief to have.” Megatron was in mid-sip, but turned to glance at Orion and nearly inhaled fuel down a wrong pipe. Orion’s softly glowing blue optics were focused on him in a piercing way that made his whole face light up in all of its true age and weariness. For a klik it was Optimus looking back at Megatron, and with a friendly, curious look in his optics. “Glad to be here,” Megatron managed to force out. Orion smiled. It was an expression Megatron had never seen before, not on this old, scarred face, and it did something concerning to his spark. “You know…” Orion started, “I was truly worried at first about how much you have changed. I am suddenly so far away from the home that is no more, all alone and without the first clue about what is happening or what I should so… You are the only thing that is familiar, and even you must be completely different from those times.” “Such is war, I suppose,” Megatron drily chuckled. Orion joined in on the laugh, but in a way that left Megatron feeling left out of the joke. “You know, ‘Lord’ Megatronus, when you were the terrifying Champion of Kaon, I was never afraid of you,” Orion suddenly confessed with a slight smile on his face. “And even now, looking at you as you are, lord and master and leader, I’m still not afraid. There’s nothing about you that intimidates me or makes me afraid.” He tilted his helm, and a youthful smile from the past lit up on his face. “It makes me glad, Megatronus.” It felt like a cloak had been shed, and Megatron didn’t know what to make of the feeling of sudden bareness he felt. He only stood his ground and kept his face as it was, still and emotionless, still confident in his façade. “What does?” he asked, giving in to curiosity even when at the same time he knew it was a move against himself. Orion simply smiled his ageless, beautiful smile, the soft blue of his optics glowing deep and unattainable. “You haven’t changed at all, my dear friend.”

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Revelation

Harry Potter Marauders Era-post Hogwarts 

Summary:  After James and Lily's deaths, you have to face secrets from your past. Secrets that caused a lot of pain are going to be brought back from the furthest corners of your heart. You have to learn to care for your nephew in the midst of a war that no one wants to deal with.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M- sensitive themes 

Shout out to @regulusheadcanons for some kick ass ideas

________

Home again...it should be a happy occasion but it wasn’t. You had received word from Sirius that James and Lily had been killed. Your older brother and sunny sister-in-law and best friend were gone and your sweet nephew was an orphan.

Y/n, I have Harry but I need your help. Remus and I need you and you’ll need your family in the coming days. Please come home.”

You had read the letter multiple times on the flight from the US back to the UK and felt even more guilty with each second. If you had just stayed home and didn’t run off to the state after your break up with Regulus; maybe James and Lily would still be alive.

Whether you were home or away if James and Lily were destined to die it would happen.

Remus’ words came back to you from the night before. You had spent an hour before bed last night crying to Remus over the phone. As usual, Remus was the one person that could calm you down. It could have been Regulus but he totally shot that to hell.

Regulus was still a sore subject for you...a secretive sore subject. The two of you had dated “in private” since the fifth year. You thought that the two of you were in love but Regulus wasn’t ready to “let his parents down.” Those were his words, not yours. You were under the impression that after graduation the two of you would begin a life together as Jams and Lily did. When Regulus ended the relationship because he knew that his parents wouldn’t support it. There was no way that Walburga and Orion Black would be happy with their heir dating a Potter that was in Gryffindor.

To deal with the pain of the breakup, you packed a bag and took off to America. You had left your brother and close friends in a state of confusion. They couldn’t wrap their minds around why you would just vanish in the middle of the night with literally no explanation. You played it off as some kind of “getting to know yourself” adventure and everyone seemed to believe it.

Now here you were going back home to rejoin the order that Regulus was apparently now a part of. You were trying to think of ways that you would be able to be in the same room with him and not act as if the two of you once had a passion-fueled relationship. Did you still have feelings for Regulus? Yes, you knew that there was no sense in denying it. You also knew the first time that you laid eyes on him all of those feelings would multiply...I’m screwed.

(1 hour later)

Regulus stood beside Sirius and Remus waiting for your plane to land. He had no idea what he was doing by tagging along with his brother but here he was.

You’re here because you love Y/n and are desperate to see her. You want to tell her that you were a fool for not manning up and telling mum and dad to bugger off.

Regulus thought as he tried to calm himself. The thoughts were truthful. He never should have let his family’s reputation affect his decision on how he handled the relationship that he valued the most...but he did. Now here Regulus stood a miserable lonely bastard with a brand on his left arm that he couldn’t get off.

Life sucks.

He had no family, no prospects of a successful future, and no lover. The life that Regulus knew so well had gone down the all-mighty porcelain shit hole in the course of one year. After finding out that her “heir” switched sides, Walburga banished Regulus from the family. Lucky for him, Regulus drained his Gringotts vault before his mother could leave him poor and penniless. Regulus could deal with the whole not having a successful future part. Working for the order should provide him some kind of satisfaction (eventually...maybe) The not having a lover part was the worst of all the three.

Regulus hated the way that he felt over the past year that you had been gone. He had attempted to date other girls but it always went south. There was something wrong with every girl that Regulus went out with.

This one talks too much.

This one has no personality.

This one bit me when giving me a blowjob.

None of them was the one girl that he wanted the most. Not one of the girls was the one that Regulus knew...the one that he loved.

“Hey grumpy, are you okay over there?”

Regulus looked up when Sirius spoke. Rolling his eyes, Regulus turned to face his brother with a sneer.

“He’s so charming.”

Sirius said with a smirk as he elbowed Remus in the side. Remus was used to the banter between Sirius and Regulus. It was mostly Sirius nagging Regulus and Regulus either rolling his eyes or calling Sirius a twat.

“There’s Y/n.”

Sirius quickly said before walking out into the aisle. He smiled as you finally met his gaze. You quickly threw your bag down before running to Sirius and jumping in his arms. What you didn’t see was Regulus watching the whole thing with a furiously jealous expression on his face.

Is there something that I’m missing? Of course, she likes Sirius. Why wouldn’t she? He is sooo good looking! He has such a charming attitude.

Regulus thought bitterly as Sirius held you a little longer than necessary. Were the two of you in some kind of relationship that Regulus didn’t know about and if so why hadn’t Sirius mentioned it? Regulus would go ape shit if the two of you were dating...you were his...used to be his.

What Regulus didn’t know was the hug was purely therapeutic and comforting for the both of you. Sirius needed you as much as you needed him (in a strictly platonic way). You were as good as a little sister to Sirius and seeing you after James and Lily’s death soothing. Sirius knew that you needed the support as much as he did.

Sirius didn’t want to think about the fact that Harry and yourself were the only Potter left now. His “new” family has quickly diminished before his eyes. Sirius had been so thrilled to finally have a family that loved him and now it was mostly gone. In Sirius’ mind, he had already made a personal pledge to make sure that nothing happened to you. He would make sure that both Harry and yourself were safe until the day that he died.

You let yourself slide out of Sirius’ arms as he smiled down at you. This was the first that either of you had smiled in a few days.

“Look at you. One year across the pond and you are still as adorable as when you left.”

Sirius said with a smile You rolled your eyes. This was typically Sirius Black. He always knew how to say something to make even the worst situations a bit better.

“And you always know what to say. It's good to see you...especially now.”

Sirius nodded, his face darkening. It was no secret to the two of you that the days ahead would be some of the darkest of your lives. Sirius pulled you into another hug. Pressing a kiss to the top of your head Sirius had to fight his own tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes.

“We are going to make it. We have to for Harry.”

You nodded in agreement. James and Lily made it clear that if anything should happen to them, they wanted Sirius and yourself to take care of Harry. The two of you, a couple or not, were the ones that would be the best fit to care for and love their son the most.

“We’ve got this.”

You said in agreement. Both Sirius and yourself sucked at making your true feelings known. It would be easier to say that the two of you were devastated and didn’t know how life would ever go back to normal...but you wouldn't...you couldn’t.

Sirius finally let you go before wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I have a surprise for you. I dragged Remus along with my grumpy brother. Don’t mind him, he just hates everyone equally.”

The moment that you looked up and locked eyes with Regulus, your mouth dropped. There he stood...he was so close that you could run to him.

He hurt you. He doesn’t deserve a moment of your time. Kick him in the shins if he tries anything.

The sassy voice in your head picked up as your brain went into over-protection mode. As much as you wanted to hug Regulus, you weren't. You would admire him from afar.

“Hello, Regulus.”

He nodded, not saying anything. Regulus had a feeling that if he spoke, feelings that he didn’t want Sirius or Remus to know would spill out. He would look like a fool in the middle of the airport.

Regulus wanted nothing more than to tell you that he had changed. He wasn’t the man that he used to be. If you would just give him a chance, he could prove it...or was he too late. Had Sirius stolen you from him for good? Would Regulus be able to watch the two of you as a couple? Hell no! Regulus would rather be killed or just die in some tragic way than watch you be his brother’s lover.

Sometimes dead is better.

Before Regulus was able to make a comment, Remus stepped in and pulled you into a hug. Regulus put his head down with an insolent frown. What he didn’t see was Sirius watching him with a suspicious frown. Why did Regulus suddenly look like a jealous lover?

Arriving back to Sirius’ house, you were thrilled to automatically be greeted by Marlene and Dorcas. Both of your friends took turns hugging you and cradling you like a baby.

“You look so pretty! Dorcas, doesn’t she look pretty?”

Marlene squealed. Dorcas nodded.

“Of course, she looks pretty. We’ve missed your face.”

“Um, you two are kind of hurting my face.”

You squeaked. Both Dorcas and Marlene backed away as Sirius stepped into the room with Harry in his arms. Your happy smile faded as you laid your eyes on your nephew that looked so much like his father.

Sirius smiled as he placed the baby boy in your arms.

“Harry, say hello to your aunty Y/n. She’s a doll, huh?”

Sirius smirked as he noticed Regulus step into the room. The younger brother immediately locked his eyes on you.

Crap….

He was dreading the moment that you met your nephew for the first time. Regulus dreaded seeing your tears and here you were cuddling the baby with tears in your eyes. He hated it even more that he couldn’t comfort you like he used to. When something was bothering you before, Regulus took care of it. He knew how to make everything better. Whether it be simply cuddling you, kicking someone’s ass in “secret”, or physical comfort...Regulus did it.

“Uh oh, I think someone needs a change.”

You stated, pulling Regulus from his thoughts. Sirius pointed to the little bedroom off of the kitchen.

“That’s his room. Feel free to do whatever you need to. I normally put him down for a nap about this time.”

You walked from the room with a smile leaving Sirius and Regulus alone in the kitchen.

The moment that you were gone, Regulus sat down at the table and reached for the newspaper in front of him. Sirius, meanwhile, decided to ask questions about his suspicions.

“So, Reg, I have a curious question.”

Regulus didn’t look up from the newspaper. His dark eyes were focused on reading. The less that he had to deal with his brother the better off he was. He was too busy trying to control his emotions over you and didn’t have the strength or patience to deal with Sirius and his nonsense.

“The answer is yellow and you are not a woman.”

Regulus replied with a small smirk. Sirius gave his brother an annoyed sneer.

“I’m aware of that fact and I have no idea what yellow has to do with anything. My question is what happened between Y/n and yourself?”

Regulus looked up, obviously surprised.

“Excuse me?”

Sirius glanced over his shoulder to make sure that you weren’t listening.

“I saw how the two of you look at each other.”

Regulus resumed his “cool as a cucumber” attitude. Turning the page of the newspaper, he went back to reading.

“I should ask you the same question.”

It was Sirius’ turn to look confused.

“Huh?”

Regulus snorted.

“The way that you two go gaga over each other. It's disgusting. I wish James would come back from the dead to kick your ass.”

Sirius blinked. The way that the two of you acted at the airport was typical “Sirius and Y/n” behavior. Anyone that knew the two of you would agree to that. It was playful fun between friends. Sirius didn’t look at you like…

Oh my god, Regulus is hot for Y/n!

Sirius’ mouth dropped at the thought. He quickly pointed at his little brother.

“You like her! Have you two...done dirty things?”

Regulus looked up. He placed his elbows on the table to place his chin on his hands.

“To answer your question, yes we have done dirty things. If you think that you are going to be half the lover to her that I was, you are sadly mistaken. I bet she hasn’t called you daddy before.”

The words left Regulus’ mouth before he could really think about what he said. Normally, Regulus typically was very calculating with what he said. This comment, however, just came out leaving Regulus feeling like a jealous 13-year-old girl who was deciding who could sit with him at lunch and who couldn’t.

“Huh?”

Sirius questioned. Regulus didn’t blink or move.

“What?”

Regulus replied, with a sneaky smirk. Sirius, meanwhile, stood with his mouth wide open as he realized exactly what his brother said. Regulus didn’t make any facial expression as Sirius scratched his head. How long had you been sleeping with Regulus? When did this happen and where was Sirius? How did he not pick up on this and you called Regulus “daddy.”

Sirius would never think about his little brother in that particular context. He still saw Regulus as his innocent quiet brother who he assumed was still a virgin but obviously wasn’t (and he was apparently good at doing the “deed.”)

Regulus-fucking-Black is a kinky dude... it's always the quiet ones.

Sirius thought before speaking gibberish when he tried to question his brother on when and where this all started and how did he miss the memo?

“Y-wh-she-where…”

Regulus smirked before going back to his newspaper leaving his brother to question everything about a world that he thought he knew so well. He only looked up again when you stepped into the room with Remus behind you. The two of you were talking quietly and stopped at Sirius’ strange actions.

“Sirius, what’s wrong?”

Remus questioned as you looked between both brothers. Sirius motioned to Regulus then to you and uttered a strange slew of words that were mixed together so much that no one could understand. Had you not been so confused, you would have found Sirius’ over the top dramatic motions to Remus amusing. He clearly expected Remus to understand what he was talking about but Remus just blinked and scratched his head.

“Uh-huh.”

Remus politely replied and decided that he was not going to try to decipher what Sirius was freaking out for the moment. Once Sirius got himself together, Remus was sure that he would hear about whatever it was.

Regulus stood up with a pleased smile on his face.

“My work here is done.”

You had a feeling on what happened. Sirius was just let in on the “big secret” and was having the reaction that you expected. If James was still alive he would either be doing the same thing or he would have Regulus in a headlock...it would be a real toss-up. Hopefully, somewhere in heaven, your brother wasn’t giving Lily too hard of a time.

Waiting a moment longer, you turned and followed Regulus outside onto the front step. He was in the middle of lighting a cigarette when you stepped out with no coat on. Rolling his eyes, he didn’t want to let his attention linger too long but couldn’t help it.

“Go back inside. It's cold out here.”

Regulus commented. He felt bad that the first thing that he said to you was an order. The last thing that he wanted was for you to get ill. You crossed your arms over your chest as the cold autumn air surrounded you.

“So the first words that you say to me is an order. Is that how it's going to be?”

You questioned as Regulus took a drag on the cigarette before turning back to you. He groaned before tossing the half-smoked cigarette into the waiting ashtray. Pulling his coat off he gently wrapped it around your shoulders.

You were clearly surprised by his action. Surprised and heartbroken was the exact feelings that you had going through you. The coat smelled just like Regulus always had from the time that you had gotten to know him. That comforting scent that always made your overly anxious nerves relax anytime that he was near you.

“Um...sorry. Hello, sorry that I’m an ass.”

Regulus offered, clearly confused as to what you wanted from him. You sighed.

“You told Sirius about our relationship didn’t you?”

Regulus shook his head.

“Not exactly. He asked if we did dirty things and I simply said that I bet you haven’t called him daddy before.”

All of the thoughts came to a screeching halt in your mind. Regulus had actually said that to Sirius and now Sirius knew! You blushed at the realization that you would have to explain this to Sirius soon. There was also the annoyance that Regulus didn’t seem to mind letting his brother in on the secret but he couldn't open his mouth to his parents. Maybe you were right all along? Perhaps the relationship was just about the sex to Regulus and when he said “I love you” he didn’t really mean it.

“You’re comfortable telling Sirius what we do in the bedroom but you don’t have the balls to tell your parents anything...lovely.”

Regulus’ face was unreadable for a moment.

“I don’t talk to my parents anymore. You would have known that if you hadn’t run off to America.”

“You broke up with me. I had nothing to stay for. As far as I knew, you were stuck on being a death eater and wanted nothing more to do with me. Did you honestly think that I was going to wait around for you to walk all over me again? I’m not dirt under your shoe just because I am not some member of some super elite club of pureblood morons.”

Regulus didn’t expect the venom to ooze out of your mouth the way that it did. Now here he stood looking at you with an annoyed expression.

“It looks like you’ve moved on just fine with my brother.”

You laughed at that comment...hard.

“Sirius and I? Wow, you must really be fucked in the head if you think that I would date someone who is like another brother to me.”

“I'm fucked in the head? Did you really say that?”

Regulus snapped. You nodded.

“Yep. Sure did. You know what, maybe I should date Sirius. At least, he was there for me. He wanted to make sure that I was okay and even offered to come to America to get me. You didn’t. In this whole year that we have been broken up, how many times have you tried to contact me? I’ll answer that...none. All that I have to say to you is, Regulus Black you aren’t getting your coat back.”

You turned on your head storming in the house and slamming the door behind you. Regulus stood looking at the place that you once stood with an annoyed frown.

“Fuck!

________

@amelie-black @regulusheadcanons @truly-insatiable @fandomsxxregulus @realgaytrash @quuenofblacks @lucasfilms77 @fific7 @hazncalsgal @teletubiswszpilkach @exhsle @acciosiriusblack @whymyparentscheckmyphone @criminalyetminimal @bennyberry @mimisparkle12 @jessyballet @knreidy1 @rubyroscoe1 @spiderxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @fandom-trash-worth-it @summer-novak @hankypranky @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @stuckinsaudi1 @untoldshortsofthefandoms @sprnaturallover @deanwherescas @wontlookaway @shitfaceddaniel @mycuddlycorner @marichromatic

[rawmeknockout]

...v smalll bot!reader...domming the FUCK out of tfp oppy...pwease?

//”how dare you love me bitch ill kill you”//

“I did it! I got you,” You proudly bounce around on your dainty pedes, face split by a wide, giddy grin. Your Lord Megatron will be so pleased to see how you’ve taken down the Autobot leader, he’ll be sure to rub it in everyone else’s ugly face plates. You: finally the darling of the Decepticons, as you deserve. The thought sends you spinning with joy, “Are you ready to go see Lord Megatron, Oppy?”

Not that there’s much point in asking, he’s half conscious and groaning from battle. Laying back as if he were simply enjoying the sunny day. Well, if it weren’t for the stasis cuffs binding his arms.

You kneel down next to Optimus, chin resting on your palms, curious tilt to your helm. You would be the picture of innocence if it wasn’t for your faction’s badge shining with pride. You trace a finger around Optimus’ own scuffed up Autobot brand, taking great pleasure in the marks you’ve left on his armor. So many times you’ve faced him, losing over and over. You just couldn’t ever give up. Not when you would see that pitying look on his face when he would choose to spare you instead of finish the fight. You hate that tender look.

How dare he act as if he’s endeared to you. Like he wants to save you.

You’re so lost in thought that you hardly notice Optimus is back to attention, not until he’s struggling with the stasis cuffs.

“You’ve still got so much energy, huh?” You reach for his battle mask, yanking it off with more force than needed, playfully holding it up to your own face. “Do I sound different in this?”

“Let me go! The Autobots will be here any minute and you’ll be out numbered,” His glare is fierce, self-assured. You would laugh at him for being so confident in others, but instead you find it... Sad.

“We should wait then! I want to bring all your friends to see Megatron,” You toss aside the mask, leaning your elbows across Optimus’ much larger chest. It’s impossible to miss the way his engine stutters at your touch. Really pitiful. His optics watch you with an intensity unbecoming of an enemy, bouncing around your face as if he’s scanning your features. Memorizing you.

“We can play while we wait,” You offer and Optimus instantly tenses. You’re not exactly known for playing games without consequences, “It’s been so long since we’ve had time alone, Orion. Do you miss how we used to play?”

You aren’t loving, despite how Optimus warms under your touch, your voice cheery but cold. Servos even colder as they slide down his chest plates. You move to straddle him, not missing how he gasps and shivers. It has been so long since you have been this close, you had forgotten how large and broad he is, “I used to have you worshipping my pedes and spike with that useless glossa, but then you turned into a meanie!”

Optimus shifts under you, thighs gathered close around his interface panel, but you ignore him and his neediness. He was always much too sensitive.

Your voice is no longer faux cheery and bright, slipping down into a more natural, more frigid tone, despite your youthful vernacular. His optics avert your own. The grin that splits your face is cruel, distant, but Optimus leans into your touch all the same.

“I think for now, though, I’ll have you worship my valve. I can’t wait to see your friends’ faces when they witness the true Optimus.”

[unknowncountrygirl]

Drunken Confession: Ben

Jae arrived in his typical outlandish behavior, wielding two large bottles of Fire Whiskey.

“Look alive boys, our Thursday night just got a lot more interesting!”

“Where did-” Charlie started but waved his hand, “you know what, never mind, I don't want to know.”

“I got cups in my trunk! Gather round boys, it's going to be a good night! Hope you don't have anywhere to go early in the morning.” He summoned his and Murphy's side tables and put them back to back to make a small table in the middle of the room. He then placed the two, rather large bottles on the tables, and went to dig in his trunk.

“This is?” Orion questioned, picking up one of the bottles.

“Irish brewed Firewhiskey, aged in barrels for years. It's the good stuff.” Jae mentioned, placing a array of cups on the table.

“You and I have different ideas of what good stuff is.” Murphy eyed the amber liquid that Orion was sloshing around.

Charlie got off his bed and walked over, looking at the small shot glasses.

“So... You brought it for us all to try?” He asked innocently.

“I have something actually more interesting in mind.” Jae said slyly. “Unless you are all a bunch of softies.”

“Hardly.” Ben replied deadpanned, picking up the second bottle to crack it open, and began to pour it into the glasses, filling them to the top. “What were you thinking Jae?”

“We've all known one another years now, lets get to know each other a little bit better.”

“This is your way of just trying to get information from us that you can blackmail us with later.” Murphy looked up at Jae, feeling very suspicious of him. Jae said nothing, just smiled slyly and took his shot before pouring himself another.

“Take a drink if you have ever used a unregulated potion, I'll go first.” He took a large gulp of the amber liquid. Ben lifted an eyebrow, but played along and poured himself a drink before taking a drink. Charlie, Orion, and Murphy simply nodded as they were handed their own drinks, not touching the liquid to their lips.

“Take a drink if you've ever... Seen a dragon?” Charlie tried. Jae, Ben, and Charlie took long sips.

“You are going to have to include something that we have done.” Murphy almost pouted with a smile on his lips. “Like if you've been voted most dashing Quidditch Commentator.” It was silly, but an excuse to take a drink himself.

About 20 questions, some laughter, light conversation, and the entire first bottle of Fire Whiskey, most of the boys were starting to feel the effects. Ben and Jae held their liquor the best, more then likely because this was not either one's first time drinking underage. Charlie and Murphy were about one drink away from being completely gassed, and Orion was one away from finding world peace.

“Oh, I've got a good one.” Jae slurred slightly. “Take a drink if you've ever had a crush-” All the boys lifted their drinks, but Jae finished his thought, “on Iris!” They all laughed lightly, but the laughter died out when all five of the boys continued to take a shot.

Murphy and Charlie almost immediately sobered up, and Ben froze like a statue.

“Soooo, we have all had dreams of Iris Rosewood?” Orion clarified.

“Is that a question we are suppose to drink to?” Murphy questioned, looking down into his glass.

“More clarification, perhaps I shall word it this way...” Orion drawled, “if you have a crush on Iris.”

Again, the room fell silent as all five boys took another shot.

A couple of the cleared their throats, Jae coughed into his hand. It had become incredibly awkward, incredibly fast.

“This is uncomfortable.” Charlie broke the silence.

“You all may have crushes on her... But I've loved her.” Ben admitted, swirling his Firewhiskey in his cup. “We have been through too much, and she's been there every step of the way for me.” The other boys stopped murmuring and looked at him. “She brought color and vibrancy into my world and I repaid her by hurting her. Hell, all I ever wanted to do is make sure no one ever hurt her and I think by doing that I've been the one to hurt her the most.” He stated more to himself then anyone else in the room. “I think I've done so much damage that no matter how much I love her, what hope I ever had that she could reciprocate is gone. It died when Rowan did.” The air in the room when from light and jovial to heavy and dark in just a few sentences. “I'm going for a walk.”

“If you get caught after curfew-”

“What? Get detention?” Ben stood, grabbed a jacket of his that had been on the end of his bed and left the dormitory.

His foggy mind supplied that going to the Forbidden Forest was a good idea, and he headed that way. Thunder boomed and lightning popped overhead and he thought briefly about heading back but he continued.

Half way down to the forbidden forest, the sky opened up and let down a torrential rain like Hogwarts had not seen in a very long time. Ben hated getting caught in the rain and made a beeline for Hagrid's hut, hoping the half giant wouldn't mind if he waited out the storm in his house. In about twenty steps he was pushing the door open and going inside.

It was dry and he pulled his wool sweater off and shook his hair to remove excess moisture.

“Hagrid?” He called, but there was no light on and Fang lifted his head up to give him a look. He figured Hagrid must not have been there and walked over to the fireplace and put some logs in a pile to start a fire. He ran his hand over the mantle feeling for matches or anything, but decided to cast a simple spell to ignite the wood. There was instant warmth in the hut as he held his hands out, warming his fingers.

The door to the hut opened, and he turned, his wand at the ready to see a figure in the doorway that was far to small to be Hagrid.

“Ben?” The voice called, before stepping into the light of the fire.

“Iris?” He asked, sliding his wand up his sleeve. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was looking for Moondew for growth potion, I need it for my Herbology project and Snape is being greedy.” Iris explained as she peeled her wet rain slicker off and hung it on the coat rack. “What are you doing out here? Isn't it past curfew?” Ben opened his mouth to tell her, she cut him off. “Never mind.”

“What?” “You'll just say something snarky and I've had a good day, so we'll just leave it alone.” Iris stated as she took out the little jar from her bag and inspected her Moondew leaves. He was about to remark that he wouldn't have done that, but that in itself would just prove her right.

She placed the small corked bottle on the table and stepped over to the fire.

“Where's Hagrid?” He asked.

“He's presenting at the Ministry about Thestrals. He won't be back until tomorrow I think.” She informed him, holding her hands out to the fire, a content look on her face. “Fancy a snack? I know where Hagrid keeps his tea, and I have some chocolate and orange scone in my bag.”

“Why do you have scones with you?”

“I wasn't sure how long I'd have to look for the Moondew, so I brought something to eat with me. Plus sometimes I have to bribe Fang to come with me.” She explained as she went to collect the tea he had stashed on a shelf and get the kettle ready over the fire. Ben felt himself blink rather hard, the effects of the Fire Whiskey starting to turn on him. He was suddenly very hot, and the room was a bit spinny.

He had already shed his sweater, and unbuttoned his collared shirt before he made to sit down on the rug in front of the fire. In hindsight, he should have sat farther from the fire, but he honestly wondered if he would even be able to make it to the chair without spilling himself on the floor anyway. Iris was also Head Girl, if she found out he had been drinking she would either have to report him or deal with it herself and he didn't want to incur her wrath.

He twisted his neck, feeling a pop that seemed to relax him as Iris held out a plate with the scones on it. He took a bite,

“these are really good. Did the house elves make this?”

“Oh no, I've made friends with Pits, he let me make some yesterday down in the kitchens.” Iris explained as she tenderly added the tea into a pot and poured the hot water into the hilariously floral teapot that Hagrid had.

“You could make friends with a dung beetle.” He joked, only partially. She laughed lightly.

They sat in silence for a while before the tea was ready and he watched as Iris poured the tea into two mix matched floral cups and handed him one. He reached for the cream and noticed that Iris blew on hers and drank it straight. It was a new little tidbit of information for him to lock away.

“Do you remember back in 2nd year, you wouldn't go up into the astronomy tower so we turned the artifact rooms ceiling into the night sky?” Iris asked suddenly.

“What made you think about that?” Ben asked as he looked over at her. She shrugged.

“We had tea and scones then, remember?” She gestured at the scones with her teacup. “I just... I like that memory.” Iris admitted.

“Back when I was afraid to even-”

“Would you just shut up!” Iris snapped, clacking her teacup loudly against the saucer. “It's a memory that makes me smile, and that I enjoy, why do you constantly try and belittle things that make me happy? Are you that full of bitterness anymore that you won't let anyone enjoy something as simple as a memory?”

“You're defensive tonight, what has you so wound up?” He snapped back just as angrily.

“I'm defensive?” Iris shouted, standing up to tower over Ben, ready for a fight that had been brewing for weeks. “You're the one that can't even let me relive a memory from when we were twelve without you belittling it!”

“I don't like reliving those memories, it was when I was weak-”

“It was when you were kind.” Iris cut in dangerously. He placed his hands on the floor and hoped that he could stand without falling over. He stood on his feet and looked down at her, truly looked at her for what felt like the first time in weeks.

Iris used to have this childlike innocence about her, with her round baby face, porcelain skin, blue eyes that were wide open for the world. He wasn't exactly sure when the last time he took the time to study her, more then likely before Rowan died, and it looked like everything she had experienced had finally caught up with her.

It was only a matter of time, one can only keep loading the camels back before something as simple as a napkin will break their back. He wondered when it was that Iris had finally broke, and wondered if anyone had even noticed. Iris was the unbreakable, she was the epitome of what people wanted to be, of course people thought she was sturdy as stone. They had taken her for granted.

Hell, he had.

Her lips were almost always in a natural smile, now seemed to be downturned in nature. Her eyes, those were what had grabbed him when he first made eye contact with her because he had never seen eyes that were just that blue, had always been bright and happy. Now, they looked like the good china that people put away for safe keeping, dust piling on it where you can see the color, its just muted. Everything about her seemed muted. Her skin, her hair, she was a soul with the weight of a Kingdom on her shoulders. There was more expectations on her at seventeen then that of twenty people.

Ben felt regret in his belly, and he couldn't keep up this conversation. He knew she was far too close and one push would send her over that edge. He had done enough to push her there, he wasn't going to be the one that pushed her to the breaking point.

“I'm not going to have this conversation.” He shook his head, beginning to button up the few buttons he had loosened earlier. Rain be damned, if he had to get soaked to get away from her and let her cool down, he would. He was just about to walk to the door when Iris called,

“You want to know what I think?” Iris told him firmly, it was not really a question but a thinly veiled declaration masquerading as a question. “I think that you're still terrified.”

That stopped him in his tracks. His hand hovered over the door knob, and the rational part of his brain that would have told him to walk away was flooded by Firewhiskey. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She was not going down this time, and she was not going to be ignored. “You are still the terrified Muggleborn you always were, only it's the fear that people will still see you as that person.”

“I am not-”

“I can see it in your eyes! You may be able to fool everyone else, but you can't fool me.” She pointed at herself. “I know you better then anyone, Benjamin Copper!” It was a fact that was mildly terrifying, and he hated to admit that. “It's a different type of terror, but it's still there and it still controls you down to your core-”

“No it doesn't! I'm a not that person anymore!” He shouted at her. It wasn't the first time he had raised his voice at her, but it felt much different then the times before. Because she had struck a nerve.

He wasn't the one in control anymore.

His delicate control that he had been clinging to since after the buried vault was quickly disinigrating in his hands and he was scrambling to keep it.

“You haven't become brave, you've become cruel!” Iris told him. He could almost see it like an actual image in his mind, she was taking a sledge hammer to his carefully constructed statue of power, bravery and control. Others had chipped away at it, but Iris had come in and went for the Achilles heel that only she seemed to know existed. “Your trauma is what navigates every single decision you have made! Every decision has been made in fear from the moment you stepped into Hogwarts!” Another critical hit, cracks that could never be fixed started to grow threatening to topple over all of himself.

“That's not true!” He yelled back at her, as though he was trying to convince himself.

“Really? Give me an example.” She dared him.

Her attack seemed to stop because she had chipped away and found the one part of his bravery that wasn't an act. That one tiny part of himself that had been bright and true since the beginning.

The part that she overlooked.

Because it was her.

“You.” He stated simply. Iris jumped a bit at the declaration, clearly not seeing his answer coming. “You terrified me. You were loud, outspoken, brave, already good at magic and dueling, you came from a pure blood family, and you were attractive. What wasn't intimidating about you? Especially to a muggleborn like me?” It was his turn to talk and he was going to seize the opportunity, as it seemed he had shocked her into silence in the middle of a fight. “But I approached you first, remember that? I thanked you for standing up to Merula. My palms were sweaty, my heart was racing, I felt like I was going to vomit, yet I rejected that fear to talk to you because there was something about you that felt like a damn gravitational pull!” He took a step closer to her and she held her ground, starring up at him. Her eyes were still alight with fire but there was something else there, a vulnerability that he had seen in her eyes too often since the buried vault. “From brooms and books, to time in the artifact room, I cared about you more then I cared about anyone else, so much so that I went with you to the buried vault! Despite the fact that I thought I would die, I went because I cared more about you then I did myself!”

Iris's lips were in a tight line, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she shook her head.

“Ben don't.” She warned, almost knowing where he was going.

“You're right, every decision I have made has been in fear... The biggest fear I have above all others-”

“Ben stop!”

There was no stopping now. He had regained the control.

“The fear that some how, in some horrible way that I can't control, that you will be hurt or die because you put everyone ahead of yourself in the most reckless and honorable ways!” He felt like he had become a new man, and that he had become braver in the years since the buried vault, but the fire whiskey in his veins was a form of liquid courage that he was sure no potion could replicate. His thought process was interrupted by stinging on his cheek.

Iris had slapped him.  

“Don't you dare say it.” She warned, her voice like ice. “Not after the way you have treated me-”

“I love you!” He wanted to shout it at her, hoping that if he yelled louder then her that she would realize he was being truthful, but all it would do is prove her point that he had just became cruel. She closed her eyes, and he watched a her fight within herself, her fingers curled into fists and he was worried for a moment that she was going to deck him. “Iris.” He reached out and placed a hand over her curled fist, “I love you.”

She shook her head but made no effort to pull away from him. They had went to war with one another and now both stood in front of their dismantled battlements.

Iris was the first to move, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his sternum.  

“I miss you, Ben.” Iris almost sobbed. His hands let go of her fists, and wrapped protectively around her back, holding her tightly. He lowered his head, his nose resting on the top of her head and breathed deeply.

He had finally admitted it, and said it out loud, given it a sense of being. He felt like a weight had been lifted, and he didn't know he had been carrying it around with him.

“I'll work on being less cruel, and more kind again.” He promised her.

“I'll accept that.” Her hands that had been balled up and resting against him opened and she laid her palms and fingers out flat against his chest, before moving them up to wrap around his neck and pull him into a hug. She had to stand on her tip toes in order to get her chin to rest on his shoulders. “Remember when I used to be taller then you?” There was a lightness in her voice that he had missed, and he smiled.

“Yeah, now you're short.” He joked.

“You're no giant yourself.”

“At least I'm taller then you.”

“Everyone is, except for Professor Flitwick.”

“Even that's pretty close.” He laughed and she tapped the back of his head with her hand. She pulled back and looked into his eyes, and smiled gently, placing the hand that had previously slapped him delicately on his face.

“I'm sorry I slapped you.”

“I'm just surprised it took you this long to slap me.” He told her honestly. “I'm sorry that I've hurt you, and I'm going to endever to do better.” Iris nodded and wrapped her arms around him again and listened to how fast his heart was beating, and smiled, knowing hers was beating just as fast.

He had not expected his drunken evening walk to end like this.

[nanamismoonchild]

deceiving the moon chapter 2 --> ferryman

pairing: god!namjoon x goddess!reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut , greek god based au

warnings: choking, mentions of death, blood mention, hair grabbing, reader gets a lil scary 

Summary:   You’re a beauty. He is handsome. You’re Life. He is Death. You love him. But does he love you? There’s only one way to found out. And it’s by being the Queen.  

prev. / next

It was a lovely day out in the forest by the home you shared with your mother.  Warm and the Sun God, Hoseok, drove his chariot proudly across the blue sky. The flowers had been blooming and the tree nymphs were growing strong green leaves. The river bubbled and babbled as you dipped your feet into the coolness. 

It had been a long harvest for the people who lived on the Earth and you had promised the children that you would play with them while the parents worked to pick their vegetables and fruits. Your mother, the goddess of the harvest, had been quite generous this year and the harvest was bountiful and would feed many for a long time.  It took weeks for the harvest to be picked, stored, and then reseeded again. Needless to say, the children had run you ragged. A dip in the river was what you needed to relax your worn bones. 

Slipping off the dress you wore, you slide further into the deep water and lie on your back.  The river would take you anywhere it pleased and you would let it.  It would be a symbolism of you letting the fatigue wash away.  

Close your eyes. The river whispered.  Relax. 

Smiling, you did as it said, knowing the river wouldn’t cause you harm. 

It was night by the time you reopened your eyes.  Selene was driving her chariot high in the sky just as her sibling was a few hours ago. You swam over to the bank and lifted yourself out of the water. Water dripped off of your body, but it didn’t bother you. The aches from your played-out bones were lifted. You felt rejuvenated. The wind blew across your body, making you shiver, but drying you off. 

You had no idea how far you had drifted with the current; however, the tree nymphs would more than know.  

Touching one leaf from a tree, you asked the natives of the forest, “How do I get home?”

Nothing.  

“How do I get home?” You asked a little louder. 

Still nothing. 

“What is wrong? Have I angered you? Is Pan angry?”

Pan was the infamous Jimin, companion of the nymphs and god of the wild. Whenever he was upset, all of the forest beings he tended to become upset as well. 

However, they would always talk to you. No matter what. 

“Hello?”

The forest stayed quiet-unhelpful in your plight to return home to your mother who would be wondering about your disappearance. 

“Please, help me,” a voice called out. It was hoarse and disembodied. 

“Who’s there?” “Please, help me,” it called out again. 

You stepped around the tree that still gave you no answer, and found a man with a blue aura surrounding him.  

Your eyes widen as you realize why the nymphs aren’t speaking. 

There was a dead man in their view and it was uncomfortable and a sight that is not normal. He should have gone straight to the Underworld instead of remaining on land.  

“Sir, are you lost? Why has Thanatos not come to lead you down?” The man simply gazed at you, his dark eyes seeing right through you almost. 

“I have not a clue how to help you. Thanatos is the only one who knows where the Doors to the Underworld are located…” you trailed off, remembering information your mother had told you years before. “Actually, I do know where to take you. Please, follow me. “

You knew you should have just started the trek home. The pity for the lost soul had overwhelmed all of your common senses. The natural leader and innate care that was inside of you wanted to take the man where he would not suffer and turn into a ghoul.  A suffering soul wanting nothing more than to be alive.  

Also, your mother was the goddess of the cycle of life and death. It would tarnish her reputation if the daughter she bragged about could not uphold her name.  

The man had no footsteps, but you could see the blue aura following you as you trekked across the mossy terrain. The directions your mother had given you had been based on the location of your home--the navigation was tricky and the only hope you had were the stars as the nymphs were still silent with the spirit in their presence. 

“Always follow Orion,” your mother had told you. 

Orion pointed in the direction--north--and you followed not wanting to get more lost than you were. You were still naked with a strange man following you. The thought almost made you pause, but the need to get rid of the poor man and get home to hot tea kept you going on. 

Finally, after walking for miles it seemed, you came across the clearing that your mother told you to steer clear of. It was one of the many ways to get into the land of the dead. 

She always feared that the man who ruled the dead himself would rise up and kidnap you. What a worrisome woman. No man would dare. 

The man behind you stood next to you, awaiting instructions.  

“You are to tap the grass three times. Do you have a drachma?”

He shook and lowered his head in what you deemed as shame. Your pity for him grew. He died a poor man or he was robbed and killed for his money. No wonder he had stayed on Earth.  He could not pay the fee to Jungkook, the ferryman, to cross the river Styx.

That had always angered you as a child. Why should the dead have to pay to cross the river? It never made sense! 

“Fine. I will take you down myself. My earrings are drachmas. One should be enough to pay for you. Let us go. “ You saunter to the middle of the field and tap the ground three times with your foot.The man did the same.  After a minute or two nothing happening, you turned towards the man, hands on your hips. 

“Well, this is a waste of-eep!”

The ground had opened without warning, dropping the both of you into a tunnel before closing. Had you been wearing any sort of clothing, your butt would have been saved from the pain, but alas, you were not. Your butt throbbed from hitting the cold ground. 

Groaning, you picked yourself up and wiped the dust off of you. The man had fallen perfectly onto his feet. 

“Say not a word to any of your ghastly friends.”

He nodded, a tiny smile appeared faintly on his face. 

Making your way through the tunnel, you find yourself hearing the moans of the others who had faced Death. A woman could be seen with tears in her eyes as she looked forlornly at a couple who hugged each other near her. 

“We’re here. Now we just have to find Jungkook and pay him his fee.” 

You moved around a few of the dead folk in line and searched the banks of the Styx. There was no boat and no Jungkook in sight either. He must've already taken a load to the other side. There was no telling how long it would take for him to come back.  

There really needed to be a change in this realm. Paying to go to the other side? Having to wait hours on end to wait on the ferryman? The ferryman should have something faster and bigger than the boats that humans use. Odysseus’s boat had travelled far and wide, facing great dangers before being ripped apart by Poseidon in a great rage.  Why couldn’t the ferryman of the dead have the same or better?

Fuming, you failed to hear the tell-tale ding of the boat that the ferryman rode, signaling his arrival back. The blue man waved an arm in front of you, forcing you out of your annoyance. 

“Thank gods we did not have to wait so long.  I simply want to get you on that boat and then get back home.”

At that, you grabbed the blue man’s hand and stomped over to the arriving boat. He was to be the first man on the boat if you had your way. The drachma earring was already in his hand after you took it off while waiting for the ferryman. 

Jungkook docked the shabby small boat that could only fit possibly 3 people including him. He was a ghastly white and seemed to have the most brittle bones. He moved slowly without care. 

“Could you move a little faster? I have to get home.”

Jungkook peered at you through the hood that he wore, his doe eyes being the only innocent feature that the gods had graced him with. 

“You are not dead?” “No. I am the daughter of Demeter. You know me as Persephone. I would like for this man to cross. He was wandering around the forest and scaring the tree nymphs.”

The ferryman blinked at you before turning to the blue man, who had been making it a point to look everywhere but at Jungkook. 

“Let me see your payment.”

The blue man glanced at you for assurance before presenting the earring drachma. His hands shook a little. 

Jungkook paused and scoffed. A sound that you did not want to hear. 

“This is not sufficient. This is an earring.”

“Yes, but it is a drachma. I pierced the drachmas and placed them into my ears for emergencies. This is an emergency. They are more than sufficient. Please let him on board. I will only beg this once. He is confused and lost. I want to see him cross into the Underworld.”

Jungkook’s eyes flashed. His doe eyes had narrowed and become menacing. 

“They are not sufficient.  It is fake. And you are fake as well. Persephone, the daughter of Demeter, would have no business leading the dead into the Underworld. This man will stay on the banks of the Styx and become a wraith since he does not have sufficient payment.”

A demented laugh erupted from you. You try to cover your mouth with your hands, but it was a failed attempt as the crazed giggles came in waves. Thankfully you didn’t snort. How unladylike that would be. 

“You are a fool. Talking to me as if I am not higher than you. If I were not humble, I would look down upon you.” 

You took the drachma from the blue man’s hands and kicked Jungkook so he would kneel in front of you.  Grabbing a tight fistful of his matted wet hair, you yanked his hand up and shoved the damned silver coin into the ferryman’s throat, making sure it cut his gum and bled.  

“You should know better than to call me a fake. I have all the business to bring the dead into the Underworld. Let this man on your boat and take me as well. I would like to speak with the god of the Underworld, Namjoon, himself. There needs to be some changes around here. Starting with you.” 

You let him go. He sputtered and spit out the blood that had been accumulating in his mouth before rushing to grab his rower and ushering you and the blue man onto his boat. 

He dinged his bell and pushed the small boat off of the dock. 

He uttered not a word the entire short journey. 

[butcherknives]

As you well know, I have Dante brainrot™ 😔🤚 and I often think about stargazing with him, finding somewhere peaceful and just talking about what we want our future to look like or smth like that 🥺 so I was wondering if you could write something where the reader gets to have a conversation like that with him? Like what Dante wants too, etc. If not, that's totally fine!

I love this idea and I’m happy to oblige, Ezra. Here’s some fluff for you in dedication to your love of Dante, and soft in honor of Valentine’s Day.

So, happy Valentine’s Day! I hope this gives you some dokis.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 700 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: longterm S/O, fluff

       𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖆𝖟𝖎𝖓𝖌

> GN!Reader x Dante

Peace conventionally comes in fleeting moments.

Shoulder to shoulder on the flat roof of Devil May Cry beneath the velvet sky, you connect a familiar line of stars with your fingertip. You trace the angle, coasting through the evening air as Dante follows the shape you build from memory.

“You see?” you’re saying on the wings of a whisper. “There’s the Little Dipper.”

He hums his acknowledgement and you turn your head to admire the languid smile he wears. His hair is splayed against the concrete in a wintry halo and he’s handsome, always, when his moonlit stare shifts toward you. “Devil Hunter by day, astronomer by night. And here, I never knew.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. “I know a thing or two.” And although the light pollution separates galaxies in a sea of vast ebony, you can still pick out several constellations in the freckling stardust. “Like there?” You point. “That’s Orion’s belt.” Dante huffs a feathered laugh and you can feel his gaze in the prickle of your skin. “What?”

“I’m just impressed,” he says and you feel your own smile curl across your lips. “I gotta admit, pretty as they are, I don’t take a lot of time out to look at the stars.” Your eyes meet. “But... now I’m starting to think I should.”

His words fill warmth in the spaces of your chest. “We could do this more often, if you’re interested.”

There’s a gleam in his eyes that you don’t miss. A spark of something – of joy, perhaps, or affection while he ruminates in the comfortable silence. And as the seconds tick by, you wonder what he must be envisioning.

He reaches for you, his hand settling atop yours. “Anything with you,” he says, “has my interest.”

You lick your lips and look away to hide the blush blooming across your cheeks. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And then what?”

He turns onto his side and props his elbow on the surface, head pillowed in his palm. “Is this the part where you send a winky face?”

Your eyes widen before you laugh. “No, that’s not what I mean.” Mirth is a glimmer in his eyes when you peek at him behind your lashes. “What I mean is: what do you think tomorrow will look like?” This has him raising a brow. You’re quick to elaborate. “For us. Together.” You turn back to the stars, settling on a twinkling planet shifting kaleidoscope white and yellow and red. “I imagine us still doing this years down the road. You and me... maybe somewhere nice? We’d be laying out beneath the same night sky, making up our own constellations.”

You can hear him inhale a long, steadying breath and you turn to see him, to examine as he considers. “Somewhere nice, huh?”

“Yeah, like maybe a vacation? Somewhere we could see the entire universe without the city to block the view. A quiet, lazy place?”

“Perfect for us,” he muses with a slow grin.

“Would that be okay?”

He regards you with a careful, concealed expression and you know in your heart that he loves you, but you are privy – although he’d rather you weren’t – to his reservations. To the deeply rooted fear of loss, and the unaddressed uncertainty toward lasting romance. What it would mean; how it could impact his work? Or even, perhaps, if it might one day be used against him?

You know this.

You know this and yet he smiles, sliding his palm along your waist to gather you to his chest. “That sounds amazing.” And buried there, nestled beside his heart, you sink into his fire. “I can think of a few places you might like.”

“You’ll take me there?”

He kisses your crown. “As many times as you want.”

The lull is filled with his steady heartbeat. He’s winding both arms around you, shifting to rest on his shoulder, and you hum your content.

“You wanna know what I know about astronomy?”

You tilt your head up, curious, and watch the way his smile blossoms into a Casanova grin.

“That up there?” He gestures with his chin.

“Yeah?”

His eyes crinkle. “That’s the moon.”