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your-local-synth-babe · 1 year

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Midnight Jokes [ Eyeless Jack x F!Reader ]

God it's been so long but i'm feeling the groove again so plz take this and enjoy being a soft bby because you deserve it <3

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Blurp. BLurP. BluRp.

You could hear the electric kettle steaming from across the room. Two cups were already placed by with tea bags on the soft white counter and as the piping hot water submerged the small porous packets they turned a lovely tawny brown. The smell of chai tea was always nostalgic. You set the hot kettle back on its station and prepared yourself mentally. A friend should be arriving soon, but you don't know when exactly. It's been an odd turn of events since you've met, especially since people don't usually first meet on someone's balcony; However, You could care less. Working from home so often, you've noticed it's been harder to stay in contact with past friends. Having someone drop by in the middle of the night randomly was nice, especially when they brought occasional snacks.

Taking the two steaming cups, you placed one on the wooden stool by the opening of the sliding doors and kept one for yourself. Outside was the snow-covered street, barely illuminated by the warm yellow hue of the street lamp. With the new year brought plenty of snow and freezing temps. While pretty, it looked lonely. Not a living thing in sight. The cold seeped through the tiny cracks of the door and you could feel it just by standing next to the door in your thin socks. Sometimes you'd wish the tea would be just enough to warm your whole body and not just your hands that were wrapped around it.

As the thought crept by, a light thud brought you to your senses. A few seconds later a much heavier thud followed. Your friend is here. With a delighted jump, you opened the clear sliding door and peeked your head out into the cold air to be greeted by a familiar blue mask shrouded in dark clothing. "Jack! I don't understand how you can stand these temperatures." You said loudly, unsure if he could hear you or not being bundled up.

"You'd be surprised, one nice coat can go a long way.." A low soft voice replied followed by a short chuckle.

You opened up the door a little more and took a step back so he could come in. A little hesitant, he cautiously stepped in and closed the glass door behind him. He’s usually never in an extra layer, so took a moment to just look a little longer taking care to ignore the red specs dotted around. "Just in time too, the tea shouldn't be too hot to drink now."

You took a good sip of yours as it seemed to now be at a perfect temperature for big chugs. He picked up the small cylinder tea cup up to his mask; it looked tiny in his large gloved hand.

"Chai... smells nice." He commented.

He moved his mask to the side which exposed just the lower half of his face and Grey skin. You caught a glimpse of his sharp teeth as he took a sip and it sent light shivers through your body. Instead of fantasizing anymore about the rest of his features you shoved your mouth full of your tea and grabbed a short stool on wheels from across the room. This was the first time he’s truly been inside your apartment. The weather not too long ago was decent enough to stay outside, but the sudden drop in temperatures had become too much. You were surprised he still dropped by.

"Your apartment is nice.. much smaller than I figured." He chatted as he moved the wooden stool by the door just out of sight from it against the wall and began shedding himself of layers.

First, his gloves came off, revealing nearly black hands, and then his bag and extra leather coat he had on. He lowered his hood revealing short wavy hair that barely covered his pointy ears and set his belongings on the ground next to the stool. You could not help but stare in awe at him. He looked the same as usual, but something about him being comfortable made you content.

"I-... oh! Yes. My apartment. It's just me and salmon. Barely anyone visits these days so... the space is just enough. Just enough for two."

The apartment was much tinier than it seemed. It was a studio apartment that was only 266 Sq ft and everything managed to fit perfectly. You even were able to fit a thin sheer divider between the kitchen and living space so your desk and bar cart could go against it. The couch was opposite of the TV and cat tower of course and a murphy bed was against the adjacent wall in-between the couch and desk. A little perfect square for a little lady and her little naked cat

"With the bed out now, it seems cramped, but I never have company over and Salmon loves to sleep on the cotton blanket." You commented, peeking over now at the plush pink ball in the middle of the half-made bed.

At that moment, you could hear the buzz before you saw the light of your phone cut on. And then another buzz and third.

"Someone's popular." He chuckled.

Rolling your eyes jokingly, you picked up the small touchscreen and checked. To your unfortunate surprise, it was a coworker. A coworker who you were stuck with on a project who's taken too much of a liking to you. "It's just a coworker.." You sighed.

"Is it not important if it's work?" He questioned, holding his empty cup in his lap.

"Well... kind of but not really??? It's a side project so we can work on it whenever, we just gotta log out hours and stuff, but this dude doesn't get the hint that I'm not.. into him. Like he's constantly asking to hang out outside of work and offers lunch but I'm not keen on really going out.. with him."

Setting the phone down you open up your laptop and scroll through work chats and open up a program. Jack quietly stood up and came behind you, hovering over your shoulder and watching you open up tabs and message back. You barely feel his breath on your neck.

"So basically using work as an excuse to harass you to go out. How unfortunate." He sounded so nonchalant.

"He is very persistent at that." You added.

You angrily typed a message stating you were busy and yet immediately received the message back it would take mere minutes. Your mood soured. Perhaps you should have just left your phone alone and pretended to sleep as usual. Looking for excuses, your eyes wandered to the alcohol cart sitting right in plain sight.

"Oh, how about something much heavier to drink that way there'd be no way we could discuss work because I'd be too intoxicated. Hehe," you proudly shimmied your roller stool over to the cart.

"..or you could fake being drunk?" Jack questioned, standing up straight as he watched you open a bottle and pause mid-way to look at him like a child caught in the cookie jar.

"....That too. I suppose that could work." You lowered the glass bottle slightly and thought not much at all about it. "But what fun would that be?" You gave a goofy smile.

"Besides, I'm an awful actor.. ask Salmon, she'd tell you everything if she could."

At that moment, not that you were looking at all, the hairless cat on the bed stretched and gave a light 'meroww' in response. It surely gave you and Jack a chuckle as you rolled across the hard floor into the kitchen for ice. Jack as well followed with the tea cups and set them in the sink.

"I'm not one to deny a free drink, but I warn you now, you may not have anything left. It takes quite a bit for me to even get tipsy." He comments.

"Well, at least it's not about getting piss-poor drunk tonight." You stood up from your chair and grabbed whiskey glasses and acquired sphere ice from your small fridge. "It's about coming up with a great excuse to tell my coworker to fuck off. Besides, what better way to enjoy an evening than having a drink with a good friend? Because this guy really doesn't care and I guarantee you when I get back to that desk he's gonna start calling-"

In that instance, you could hear the Skype tune obnoxiously going off. You rolled your eyes and looked at Jack who gave a hearty chuckle as you continued to pour two mighty glasses of whiskey.

"Not very work-appropriate of me, I know." You handed him the glass and without thought silently cheered and drank as you made your way back to the desk, pulling along the roller stool since it was your only seat. He followed you back around and watched from the makeshift doorway as you adjusted at your desk. You took another big swig of your drink. "Pheww. This shit is strong. It burns like hell." You cringed at the burn in your throat.

"Well, this isn't exactly your chugging type of drink." He responded, taking a good swig of his as well with no reaction and a goofy smile.

You gave him a playful glare and a short shake of your head in disappointment before smiling. The call tune continued to play and you stared at it like a sad puppy. Jack couldn't help but stifle his chuckles as you proceeded to hit accept and exclaim to your bothersome coworker he had 5 minutes. Of course, that didn't go very well as he proceeded to mix his comments and statements between work and personal interests. He chatted and chatted away so much that when those 5 minutes passed he still hadn't given a direct statement as to what brought up this emergency meeting.

It got to a point where you and Jack started to make a game to drink every time he mentioned any personal statements rather than a work one. Of course, that didn't go so well since you couldn't get any breaks in between swigs and kept spitting out saliva from the taste. You felt dizzy and weak, so much so that Jack easily noticed and grabbed you a room-temperature glass of water to drink. You silently thanked him as he took your glass away and tried to head to the kitchen sink but stumbled.

"Oh- fuck-" he adjusted and turned to you stifling your laughter. "What was in your shit?" He softly stated, groaning lightly as he put the glasses in the sink and returned to the side of your desk.

"Hello, everything okay?" Your coworker chimes in but you quickly hushed him and said all was fine.

Meanwhile, In-between the sink and your desk, Jack had a moment to take his hoodie off, revealing a deep black short-sleeved shirt, and his arms where from his forearm to his fingertips were an ombre to a nearly black color. His shoulders were very broad and overall his figure had you having some very creative thoughts. Jack took his mask off and set it down on your desk. He tiredly dragged his hand over his face, hoping to rub away any sleepiness he had. Being drunk enough, you simply rested your chin on your palm with your elbow barely propped on the desk and watched him. You stared longingly, finally being able to see his face after months of midnight adventures and escapades of fast food or park explorations. He was honestly rather handsome. He had what started to look like barely facial hair in the back corner of his jawline. His eyes, while nothing was there, seemed to be giving you a soft expression. You couldn't help but admire how he just seemed so put together even while tired.

It didn't take long for him to notice your gaze. He was only buzzed enough to be much more comfortable sharing than before and honestly enjoyed the attention he was receiving. He contently watched you with an almost longing look on his face.

"And so- actually- hey! Are you even listening? Are you there? You haven't said a word?" Your coworker suddenly got much louder.

Jack has a scowl and you stood up, startled by the outburst. You clicked a few things away and as you were about to respond, Jack got super close to you and whispered in your ear that he had a little joke he wanted to play. You were confused at first but frankly couldn't care less since he had something in mind and in yours, birdies were flying circles.

"Mhm yep- still -hic- here and listening. This is dragging a bit, I still have company."

Shrugging it off and ignoring you completely, your coworker continued his rant. It's been 20-plus minutes at this point and you were ready to slam this laptop shut. Yet you were curious as to what Jack had planned. Another 2 minutes go by before Jack buries his face into the crook of your neck, making you quietly gasp sharply. He licks your neck wetly with a sly chuckle as he wraps his buff arms around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest. Not knowing what to do with your hands as this was all so sudden, you slam your hands onto your desk accidentally and clank your water cup enough to be picked up.

"Hello? I heard a thud- did you knock something over?" Your coworker remarks.

"Ah- yes. I- I'm fine-" you began to speak but immediately get cut off by Jack. "She said she had company. You've already taken up my time with her, so I'm turning you off now, fucker."

Taken completely off guard, your coworker stammers and stumbles over words. Seemed like he wanted to ask who that was but couldn't find the right words before Jack nonetheless shuts your laptop off and slams it close.

"Well, that works-"

Before you could finish your comment you were swiftly picked up, still held at the waist, and walked over to the bed. You giggled much as it felt a little funny being carried that way. Jack plopped you down on the bed and swiftly fell after you. Salmon had already jumped away and now it was just the two of you on your full-sized deep blue murphy bed. You could still feel the warmth of the whiskey in your stomach and chest. Your throat felt dry and honestly you didn't realize how exhausted you were till now.

"That little stool is so bad for my back. haha..." You made small talk.

You could see how done he felt about that experience through his facial expression, yet he looked like he wanted to say something to you. He just stared at you with his black abyss eyes. You felt a little nervous. Your faces were mere inches apart. Your bodies were close, but nothing touched. You tried to swallow your spit, but it only just made your mouth dry as well.

"I'm thirsty... my mouth feels dry." You lightly whispered.

"Well.." He huskily whispered back." I can help you with that."

At that moment he took his hand and guided your chin up and pressed his lips to yours. His tongue glided into your mouth and suddenly you forget you were even thinking about grabbing your drink. You shifted closer, moving one hand to his shoulder and the other to his chest. You slid your free leg in between his and overall leaned towards him. In between wet kisses, you fought sleep hard. You were much too content with this moment to be falling asleep on it.

Just as you felt your body get even drowsier, Jack pulled away to look at you. You fluttered your eyes open tiredly to see his face a tint shade darker and a sly smile. You gave a weak chuckle as he leaned over you more to start attacking your neck as he did earlier. You could only help but give a mix of giggles and moans as he gave you quick kisses all over and meanwhile ran a hand over your forearm to interlock with your small hands. Eventually, he got tired of giving hickies and came back to your lips. He gave you a few short sloppy kisses before getting comfortable half on top of you. You let out a heavy breath.

"You... are heavy." You whined, detangling your hand from his just to drape it over him and run your hands through his hair.

He gave a short groan and shifted over the slightest bit. You laughed and squeezed him with your free arm.

"Well, could we at least get under the cover? It's a bit too cold to be cuddling without a blanket." You retorted as you began to squirm from him to try and get comfortable in the bed.

"I could think of a few more ways to warm up than getting under the covers" He smirked.

You rolled your eyes as you shimmied from underneath him and crawled up towards the pillows and underneath your covers and of course, he was quick to follow.

“Next time, I’m just going to shut your shit off completely.” He remarked, and you responded with a giggle.

“Well- next time I just won't answer and fall for that trap again.”

Jack let out a huff and you could feel his warm breath on your neck again. You thought to yourself you could get used to there being another person around more often in your tiny space. Yep, just enough for two.

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta scenarios #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #eyeless jack #creepypasta eyeless jack #creepypasta ej #creepypasta one shots #creepypasta blog #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta x you #eyeless jack creepypasta #eyeless jack fluff

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modx-reborn · 2 years

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Kinktober Day 6: choking with DreamXD

I'm not gonna lie I was smug while writting this.

I love the idea of a higher being that while yes, they know humanity is different to them, but they have never had that human feeling or limitations so they can understand why they can't/shouldn't do it.

Anyhooo, MINORS DNI!

There is something about how you look, drapped against his lap, straddled across one of his thighs, hands scrabbling against his fingers resting around your neck.

Resting, it felt like resting to him, grip barely holding you, almost loose, he was so sure that you would be able to get free should you truly wish to be, and yet there is so much movement, so much scrabbling and tears. It was almost as if you couldn't breathe as if he was choking you, stealing your air and leaving only his touch in the wake, but he was simply resting his hand around your neck.

Resting and keeping you in his lap, you had told him you wished to be kept close on days like this, how else would he keep you close if not under his grasp.

The differences between a god and a human are many, and their similarities are small, so small that as you writhe in your godly lover's lap gasping and scratching at the fingers around your neck rutting and devouring the feeling of pleasure that scrapes around the blunt thrumming pain and need for air.

"You're lively today little one, is this not close enough for you? Not good enough? Need you more of your god? well, little one speak to me?" The sheer size difference between the two of you means that with a lift of his thumb your head is tilted up, hooded and hazy eyes cast up to stare at the cracked mask of his face. Halos and shadows streaking across your vision as one of his fingers lift air seeping in ever so slightly, giving a simper of life to you.

Your voice cracked and creaking, simpering as you beg for air, to be let free to gasp and indulge in the air you had taken for granted until he had placed his hand around your neck, till he had merely rested his hand against you.

You could confuse XD's laughter for thunder, the rumbling and cracking noise similar for those that had never heard it and yet when the hand around your neck pulls away, the hand that had almost killed you pressed to his mask almost coy in the way it falsely covers his laughter, "I had taken your breath away? Is that one of your little mortal sayings? Are you offering praise to me? looking for a blessing beyond what I have given you?"

If you could see a mouth, there was no doubt it would be spread wide in a grin, teeth shown in an almost snarl-like smile, sharp and clear in its intent to tease.

The weight of his hand is like a second skin to you, once again wrapping around your neck resting against you in his own version of a loose grip, his laughter mocking and your own hands come to try and loosen his grip further, to let you breathe around this playful display of affection.

Mortals and gods are so very different in the end and to this day, this lame little display of divine affection through thoughtful featherlike touch was leaving you slumped colours streaking and smearing like a hand across oil paint in your vision, thunderous rumbling laughter ringing in your ears as the weak movements of your hands fail limp, the struggling rutting of your hips against his thigh cease and your head falls back lips parted in a sigh of his name.

There is something about how you look, drapped against his lap, straddled across one of his thighs, hands no longer scrabbling against his fingers resting around your neck head limp in how it rests against his hand, his grip looser now just barely touching you as you fall limp against him, mortals and gods are so very different and he was merely resting his hand against you, resting his hands and enjoying how you writhed and struggled for the air he controlled.

"Look at that, my little mortal all worn out, your very breath stolen by your god… I wonder if you will let me take it from you again? Or perhaps I will simply take it again…"

#kinktober 2022 #c: dreamxd #dsmp smut #mcyt smut #k: choking #k: teasing #mxad

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visd3stele · 3 years

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The beauty and his beast - wolfstar fic

summary: two different nights, years passed, some things changes, but some never do

TW: nightmares, PTSD, trauma, non depictive child abuse, themes of suicidal thoughts

A/N: I loved writing this, but I am so nervous about it. What do you think?

requests ; masterlist

fanart credit picture down below: @lunopal

Ragged voices licked his ears. Three different ones overlapped in a cacophony of hissed whispers and dooming laughs. From where he stood in the middle of his cell, Sirius could see a silhouette standing in the open door. Open, because there was no way he could escape. Three Dementors floated in a circle around him, so fast he could barely tell them apart. Black smoke, a burning smell and shadows whirled under low hoods, bringing him to his knees.

The man in the door curled his lips in a terrible grin. The Dementors were his and with each mind they broke, with each soul they ate, the wizard gained a sense of pride and morbid joy.

Sirius knew it. He knew the man, back in his school years - how far they seemed now! But Sirius also knew he was delusional. The Dementors bow to no one. They have no law, no caretaker, no master. Only their purpose.

Continuing to swirl around his frail body, sinked in to a third of what it used to be, bony edges poking out through dirty thin layers of clothing, the Dementors closed in on Sirius. Flashes of memories flew before the Animagus' eyes. James' empty ones, still open in a silent plea for his sacrifice to be enough to save his family, his brown hair dipped in his own blood, body angled in an unnatural position with his hand stretched forward above his head as if reaching for his best friend. Lily's tears, yet to dry and evaporates, stained her too pale face, the red of her hair sprayed around too lively; no blood pools formed around her lifeless body, laid on its belly as it fell onward, as if leaping away from her son, so the baby won't have to see it. And finally Harry, his godson, crying in his crib, a brown-red crust shaped like a lightning forming on his forehead; his green, small eyes, swollen, puffy and trimmed with red followed his godfather as the man turned his back on him and ran outside.

Sirius cursed loudly, beginning to shackle the chains trapping him in place in case he tried to escape the daily visit of the Prison Warrant and his guards. But the now twenty five years old has stopped trying to run a long time ago. What good would it be? There was nothing - no one - waiting from him out in the world. No, Sirius trashing around the cold, dirty dais, snapping the metal biting in his wrists, bruising his effervescent skin and almost cracking his bones as well was his attempt to run from his own mind. If he could just wipe the haunting memories away with a shook of his head, a twist of his back or punching and kicking the thick walls.

Fragments of thoughts he wasn't sure belonged to him invaded his mind. "Your fault. Traitor. Another Black." And, worst of all, one pained howl, a desperate scream in the night. Sirius wasn't sure if he heard it, or the dark creatures around toyed with him, but Remus' wild, feral yell of pure hurt reverberated inside the bars of his mind. The young wizard shut his eyes closed tightly, hoping to brush away the sound, the voices. Failing to do so, he released a scream of his own, only a hint of Padfoot, the big, black dog, his alter ego, printed in it.

The thirty four years old man yanked up. The bed sheets were soaked in his sweat, the blanket throwed on the floor. Sirius passed a shacking hand over his face, feeling the hot air leaving his mouth in short breaths, than big inhales with no exhale, the burning of tears on his warm red cheeks and the running nose. His lips felt sewed together all of a sudden, as chill after chill entered his body, cooling off his face too quickly.

It was just a nightmare, he knew. He escaped Azkaban, has been a free man from over a week already. But Sirius Black couldn't let the twelve years in prison go. The things he saw there, what the Dementors showed him day after day, carved their way in his brain, refusing to leave. Yes, he may have been wrong: his family and living friend welcomed him back. Harry was warming up to hid godfather, Nymphadora Tonks was eager to know her uncle, Andromeda even reached out, sending letter after letter and Remus - well, Remus hugged him tight and apologized for believing that filthy rat's lies. The werewolf spent his days, from first ray of sunshine until the last drop of sunlight. But the nights he went home. The nights when ghosts came to play, wounds teared open and pain leaked like blood from Sirius' heart, Remus was gone.

He tried to remember a time they didn't share a bed - before Azkaban, of course. Not in a sexual way, though it came to that in the late years of Hogwarts too. But simply for the comfort they each found in the other. It started in the second year, Sirius recalled.

Four twelve years old boys in a room seemed like a receipt for disaster. In a way, it was. After finding out their friend's secret, James, Sirius and Peter decided to sneak in the herbology cabinet, get Mandrake leaves and become Animagus. Seeing as they got away with it, the four created their enchanted map and become the Marauders, messers Prongs, Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail, waltzing their merry way through Hogwarts.

Not everything was merry and joyful, though. And despite their reputation, the wizards could be grave and serious when need be. Like one night, when Sirius woke them all up with his cries. The grey eyed boy stood on top of his bed covers, knees drawn to his chest, hands tangled in his shoulder length hair. He leaned back and forth, trembling. Front teeth bit in his lower lip to prevent him from making more noises as silent tears rolled down his face.

The other three boys thought Sirius saw a mean spirit, the haunted glassy look in his eyes only proving their theory further. But no danger threatened in the shadows of their room. No monster lurked in the darkness.

James was the first to get up and surf his way to the pure blood. Remus followed closely behind while Peter watched everything from the safety of his bed. Sirius' episode truly spooked him.

"Padfoot, mate, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. 'm sorry. Go back to sleep."

James and Remus changed worried looks at the sourness of Sirius' voice. Their friend would usually be the epitome of confidence, yet now he seemed to desperately try to shrink and disappear. But it was late and they were tired, so the boys decided with a swift nod that they'd pick up the subject in the morning and climbed back under their covers.

Remus jolted awake. Two out of his three best friends were sound asleep. Sirius still stared at the wall in front of him, breathing jerky. Due to his fine, superior hearing, the werewolf discerned the Black boy's muffled whimpers, sounds that kept him from sleeping.

"Sirius, why are you so afraid?" Remus whispered.

" 'm not afraid, Moony. Sleep."

"Can't. Werewolf remember? I hear you trying to not cry. You can cry, you know."

"I know." Sirius said in a tone that clearly showed he doesn't. With a sigh, Remus threw away his blanket, slipped his feet in his shoes and trailed his legs over the dorm's brick daises until he reached his friend's bed. The brown haired boy signed Sirius to scoop over, which he did, to both wizards surprise.

Later, when talking about that night, Padfoot admitted he was too tired, too shocked and too lost in his mind to think and only acted on auto pilot.

Remus brought the blankets to cover them both, still seated as they were. "Do you need a hug?" Sirius hesitated before answering, but eventually he nodded twice, a quick movement as if the boy was ashamed to admit it and wanted to pass unnoticed.

But Remus smiled softly and wrapped his hands around him. Sirius clinged onto his friend. The warmth of the gesture, the cozy closeness of a settled, stable body, a person that cared deeply about him and only him as a being, set the restrained tears free. Remus held Sirius until his body stilled and he could feel no more tears soaking his pajamas.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Sirius swallowed, but the words demanded to be spoken. "Yes."

"Alright. I'm gonna ask you questions and you can answer with yes or no. It's your choice if you want to elaborate. Sounds good?"

"Yes." Sirius said and for a moment his usual, ironic self showed up.

"Was it a nightmare?"

"Yes."

"About your family?"

With a shudder, the grey eyed boy forced out another "yes."

"Your brother?"

"No."

"Your parents, then. Did they - did they do something to you?"

"Yes." Remus' arms tighten around him and he clunged harder to his friend as well. In the safety of the Gryffindor dorm, shared with his most trusted peers, comforted by the scarred boy he became an Animagus for, Sirius stumbled over his thoughts. The dream weighted heavy on his mind, but he didn't know how to let free of those horrible images that haunted him. Not images, memories. Sirius feared that if he said anything they'll become real. Not that they weren't, but they happened in the past. Talking about them, invoking them, would feel like living through them again.

And yet, part of him wanted to talk. He needed someone to know. Sirius couldn't be sure why. Maybe to hear that it was nothing, that it was ok and he shouldn't be such a weak ship. Or maybe to hear it was normal and he wasn't alone. That is how parents love and his didn't hate him after all. Or just to show someone how broken he were, hoping to be picked un and patched.

So, speaking slowly, but evenly, Sirius retailed his nightmare to Remus. In his sleep, the twelve years old boy was hanging some muggle posters in his room: bands, promo for concerts, normal things a boy his age would own. He smiled broadly, music turned on quite loud, muggle music, when his parents bursts in. Walburga and Orion both yell, but Sirius can’t understand what they’re saying. It’s pretty clear they are very upset with him, though. And the reason couldn’t be more obvious.

“Sirius Orion Black!” his mother shrieked. “Ungrateful, worthless child! You are a stain on the family’s name.”

“You should be ashamed of you. As much as I am for being your father. Well, say something. Look how upset you made your mother!”

“Sorry,” he’d try to say, but his voice would break, too small to be heard by the angry adults. Which only worsened their state. Sirius watched frozen in terror as Walburga took her wand. Only his head seemed to be able to move, and he was shacking it vigorously, wiping his cheeks with it. The young wizard tasted tears on his tongue as he repeated the same words over and over again “no, please, ‘m sorry!” It did nothing to help.

Remus stayed in his bed that night.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

The moon shone mockingly on the window. Last night has been a full moon and Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail failed to properly contain Moony. It happened quite a lot in their first days as Animagus. As normal, they got better over the years, the four boys falling in rhythm like an oiled machine. By the time they reached excellency, though, mistakes happened. James, Peter and Sirius thought less of it, but Remus took it badly.

As he laid in the dark, blanket drawn to cover his head as he hugged his knees on the side, the young werewolf tried to remember what happened last night. What if he killed someone? What if he will next time the boys won’t be able to restrain him? Is it worth living like this, a danger to himself and the ones around? What if he hurts his friends?

“I can hear your mind working from over here y’know?”

Remus straighten up in shock. “Padfoot?”

“Well, it’s not the Fat Lady. What’s on your mind?”

Remus shrugged, but Sirius wouldn’t stop pestering him until he poured his deepest fears and doubts.

“You won’t”

“How do you know this?”

“You won’t, Moony,” Sirius said more firmly this time.

“Alright.” Remus clearly didn’t believe him and his worries still troubled him as he turned to lay back down. He heard footsteps, then felt the mattress shifting as another body climbed over his bed covers. “I know because I am Sirius Black and you are my friend.” Less than an hour later, both boys were sound asleep.

Sirius slept in his bed that night.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

It became a tradition. At first, they'd wait until one of them woke frozen in pain and panic, then they'd stay together and talk silently until they could sleep again. Later, Sirius and Remus would wait until James and Peter were out to decide who's bed to sleep in, knowing one of them - or both - ought to need the comfort.

The man kept trembling. His sobs caught in hiccups, leaving him out of breath. He did it. He left Harry for revenge. He practically made the choice for James and Lily, selecting Peter as secret keeper. His brother died and instead of mourning him, Sirius rejoiced bitterly in his cell - until he found out how he betrayed the Dark Lord.

He was just another Black. An evil presence in the world, despite his efforts. Gryffindor or Slytherin, it mattered not when his genes crafted him. Sirius tried so hard to be good, brave, loyal and the only thing he managed was to disappoint everyone. He was a nuisance and a burden and the a stain on the world. It'd be better if his sorry, useless existence would be wiped off the surface of the Earth.

Such thoughts clouded Sirius' mind when a light knock pulled him out of his head. "May I come in, Padfoot?"

The man almost broke at the nickname. Only one single person now would know to call him that. The weight of the realization hit him and another wave of tears carried the air from his lungs.

Receiving no answer, Remus kicked the door open, worry written all over him. The werewolf was panting and sweating from running, eyes wide close to terror. "Padfoot!" Seeing his oldest friend's state, he rushed to his side and hesitated only a moment before drawing him in for a hug.

"Nightmare?"

"Yes."

"Azkaban?"

"Yes."

"Dementors?"

"Yes. They-" Sirius gulped, shame tightening up in his throat. He was a thirty four man, for Godric's sake! And yet he cries like a baby. But the path he and Remus trailed off to, simple questions, any type of answer, so familiar and soothing he couldn't stop. "They tortured me. Showing me their - James and Lily's - death over and over. I left Harry, Moony. I stepped inside the house, saw that beautiful, brave child, suffering and I took off after bloody Pettigrew!" Before Remus could say a thing, Sirius continued, teeth so barred that words barely spitted out. "I heard you screaming too. I don't think that was real, but it sounded so broken, Moony. Twelve years, over twenty four full moons alone. 'm so sorry. It's all my fault."

Remus inhaled sharply, pulling Sirius even closer to him. He rubbed circles on his back, leaning to whisper in his ear "It was not, Padfoot. I should have trusted you more, star. If anything, it's my fault for spending so much time alone. So much, in fact, that it seems I neglected you, our agreement."

“It was my fault.” Sirius insisted.

“No,” and not letting him time to argue, Remus added “I know so, Sirius, because I am Remus Lupin and you are my... friend.”

Sirius pulled away only to find a reluctant smile playing on Remus' face. His body reacted before his mind could process its moving. He moved on the right side of the bed, still avoiding the other wizard's eyes. "Why are you here, Remus?"

"I couldn't sleep either. Thought to check on you as well. And good thing I did. You looked..." The professor didn't know how to finish that sentenced. Hollow. Empty. Dead. Scaringly close to death, in fact.

"Merlin! Thank you, Moony. You don't look bad yourself."

Remus chuckled. "Are you feeling any better?"

"No. You?"

"No."

Both men laughed. A bitter sweet sound passing through silence, taking with it any sign of discomfort that existed.

"I'm glad you came."

"Me too."

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