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Chapter 10: The Big Bad Wolf

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 5,0k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, canon divergence, gore A/n: I hope you enjoy it just as much as I did. This is also a bday present for my friend. Happy birthday!!! Don't freak out <3 Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

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“Every social worker enjoys certain aspects of the job more than others,” the man explains with a smile that seems almost too forced; it’s been glued to his face since the moment Alana greeted him. “There are cases that you reach and cases you don’t reach.”

You spin the pen between your fingers with a steady rhythm, your mind wandering and tuning in and out of the conversation between Clark Ingram and Alana Bloom. But something about his demeanor strikes you—the way his bright smile seems permanently plastered on his face. It’s off-putting, unnatural, as if he’s struggling to maintain the facade of a polite and helpful citizen.

“Peter’s had persistent cognitive problems. Confusion, paranoia, rage.”

“Peter’s a sheep,” you mutter to no one in particular. “He can’t hurt an animal, let alone a human being.”

“You really like sheep, don’t you?” Jack jokes, reminding you of your choice of words from not long ago.

You look at him with a raised brow before nudging him in the arm with your elbow. “And you don’t? At least sheep don’t bite.”

Jack chuckles at your retort, but his expression quickly turns serious as he turns his attention back to Clark Ingram. “So, what do you think, Agent Avant? Is Peter Bernardone capable of violence?”

You pause, considering the question carefully. “It’s hard to say,” you reply, your tone measured. “But based on what we know so far, it doesn’t seem likely. His cognitive issues suggest a lack of capacity for such brutal acts. If he was ever violent toward anyone, it’s likely he was pushed to his limits and lashed out.”

Will and Hannibal stand to your left, listening intently to the conversation between you and Jack, as well as the one taking place on the other side of the thick one-way mirror. Their expressions are unreadable, betraying little of what they might be thinking or feeling.

They’re silent until the moment when Alana reaches out to touch Ingram’s hand. The social worker does nothing to hide his discomfort as he quickly shifts his hands away and leans further into his chair.

“That’s smart,” Will explains, hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. “She keeps pushing him on his feelings, not on the facts.”

Hannibal nods in agreement, his gaze focused on the interaction between Alana and Ingram. He casts a fleeting glance in your direction every now and then, his eyes catching your presence in his peripheral vision before returning to the scene before him.

“She’s trying to gauge how comfortable he is with emotion, if he has any,” Will adds, glancing at you too, curious to know your thoughts. “He couldn’t bear being touched by her.”

“It’s a telling reaction,” you remark, your voice calm and measured. “It suggests a deep-seated discomfort with emotional intimacy. Perhaps indicative of a psychopath?”

“Yes, his responses are typical of psychopaths during interviews, but could also indicate resentment,” Hannibal agrees.

“No, I don’t believe it’s resentment or hatred towards women,” you assert, your tone firm. Your eyes narrow thoughtfully.

“No, his eyes are dead,” Will concludes. “He’s a predator.”

“It’s the absence of empathy, of any real connection to the people around him. That’s what makes him dangerous.” You glance over at your husband, seeking confirmation or perhaps an alternative perspective, he acknowledges your words with a nod of his head.

The conversation between Ingram and Alana continues for a while longer, but your mind is too preoccupied to fully focus. You’re aware of their words, but your thoughts are elsewhere. You can’t shake the feeling that Ingram is hiding something. It’s the way he recoils from her touch, the way he conceals himself behind smiles and warm words. There’s an eerie resemblance to your father that sends chills down your spine; something in his demeanor triggers warning bells, a deep and primal instinct for danger.

You attempt to refocus on the conversation, but Ingram’s subtle gestures and body language keep drawing your attention. There’s something sinister about him, a feeling that resonates deep within your bones.

Suddenly, Jack’s voice pierces through the room, pulling you away from your thoughts. “Let him go,” he commands.

The panic in Will’s eyes prompts you to react, and you turn towards your boss with an annoyed expression. “Jack, don’t do that. You know he’s the one.”

“I’ve got nothing to hold him on,” Jack responds calmly.

“We can still get something out of him,” you insist, your eyes pleading. You couldn’t care less about the killer on the other side of the glass, but it’s evident that Will is invested in this case.

“Peter Bernardone is psychologically disadvantaged. He’s been manipulated,” Will argues, his hands clenching into fists by his sides. “As his social worker, this man is in a position of trust, and he has betrayed that trust.”

The realization hits you like a brick—this is personal. In a twisted, complicated way, this is no longer about catching the man responsible for killing sixteen women in cold blood. It might not even be about Peter anymore. The next sentence coming out of Will’s mouth confirms it.

“I know what it’s like to point at a killer and have no one listen.”

“You pointed in the wrong direction.” It’s all Jack says before leaving the room.

Your gaze instantly finds your husband’s face—his expression a mix of disbelief and powerlessness. You reach for his hand, and he doesn’t resist at all as you squeeze it reassuringly, nails gripping into his skin to keep his mind in the room with you and Hannibal. God, Hannibal. You almost forgot about his presence beside you with how quiet he’s become.

“We won’t let Peter Bernardone suffer for all of this, Will,” you assure him. It’s all you can offer—a useless promise that you might not be able to fulfill.

You find yourself in the BAU’s headquarters not long after, walking through the almost-empty corridors leading toward Crawford’s office. You can’t shake your husband’s heartbroken expression from your mind. It lingers hauntingly in the back of your thoughts, refusing to be forgotten.

The atmosphere is uncomfortably quiet, with only the echo of your footsteps breaking the silence as you make your way through the corridor. Your focus is consumed by the folder in your hands, flipping through its pages absentmindedly for at least half an hour. The world around you becomes a misty haze as you try to concentrate on the contrasting words printed on the white paper.

Suddenly, you’re snapped back to reality as someone grabs you by the arm and forcefully pulls you into the nearest room. The sequence of events unfolds so rapidly that it’s all just a massive blur.

“Hey, what the hell!” You react instinctively, swinging blindly at your assailant. Your hands make contact with their face, nails poised dangerously close to their eyes. It’s not the most efficient form of self-defense, but your reflexes have dulled since you’ve been out of the field.

As your vision clears, you recognize those dark, menacing eyes, though you’ve never seen them so up-close before. Their gaze is hypnotizing, compelling you to loosen your grip on their jaw. Despite the danger, you can’t bring yourself to let go entirely.

“It’s just me,” Hannibal’s voice cuts through the tension, tranquil and unaffected by the threat of your fingers near his eyes. His hands grip your elbows firmly, though not painfully, as he meets your panicked stare head-on.

“Why did you grab me like that?” you question him, a hint of vexation in your tone, though you notice how soft his skin feels under your palms.

“Do you prefer a gentler approach?” Hannibal responds calmly, his demeanor unruffled.

You blink slowly, confusion replacing your initial anger. You glance around the empty conference room behind him. “Why are we here?”

Hannibal’s grip on you loosens slightly as he looks over his shoulder before acknowledging your question. It appears he only just became aware of your location himself. “Coincidence.”

Hannibal’s eyes find yours again, and you both stare at each other in silence, unmoving. The tension between you is palpable, each moment stretched taut like a drawn bowstring. You’re not even sure if either of you is breathing, but you can still detect the faint fragrance of his cologne—notes of leather, cedarwood, and a hint of something darker and more mysterious, perhaps oud. The stillness of the air crackles with anticipation, and your shared curiosity poses the question: “who moves first?”

“Would it be rude of me to ask you to release me?” he finally breaks the tension, his tone almost reluctant, as if he secretly wished you would hold onto him a little longer.

You release him, albeit with some apprehension. “You wanted to see how I handle sudden threats, huh?” Your words are more of a statement than a question, delivered with a certainty that seeks confirmation.

“Yes,” he replies simply, catching you off guard with his honesty. It’s almost unnerving how straightforward his answer is.

You watch as a tiny smile quirks one corner of his mouth, the faintest twitch of his lips. It’s as if he was born to be intimidating yet effortlessly charming at the same time. Everything he does seems so well thought-through to the point of being eerie.

“And what conclusion did you reach?” you ask, striving to keep your voice steady. There’s an undercurrent of tension flowing between the two of you, and you can feel his eyes scrutinizing you, taking in every detail.

“More of a confirmation, really,” he replies, his gaze traveling from your face to your hands and back.

You know he noticed your hesitation before you let go of him. You know he’s still analyzing you, taking in every detail, every little movement you make. You can feel his eyes weighing you, measuring every ounce of your reaction, your breath, and your pulse.

“You reacted almost instinctively,” he concludes, not asking a question or suggesting that he expected anything less from you. “It’s a sign of strength.”

You can’t tell if he’s being serious or just saying that to be polite, and you feel compelled to challenge him on that statement, so you do: “And what would’ve been a sign of weakness then?”

“Not fighting back,” he replies simply, his eyes never leaving yours. “Not putting up a fight.”

Your mind struggles to process his answer. “So, what you’re saying is that someone showing weakness by letting themselves be attacked and possibly killed is worse than someone who reacts and fights back?” you reply, not hiding your disbelief at his words.

His response is almost immediate. “Precisely.”

You almost laugh at the straightforwardness of his reply. His words are as chilling as his demeanor. You want to challenge him, to call him out for his bluntness. But you can’t summon the energy, and your gaze falls away.

“What if someone doesn’t have it in them to fight back?” you ask, curious to see how he’ll respond. “Maybe they’re not capable of it.”

He considers the question for a moment, seeming to weigh a myriad of variables in his mind before giving you an answer. “The instinct for self-preservation is primal, ingrained in every living being. It doesn’t matter if they don’t have the physical ability to fight back; the urge to live overrides everything. Even a child will fight when pushed against the wall. Only the weak would let themselves be slaughtered without at least attempting to survive.”

You feel almost appalled by his words, their harshness sinking in. There’s a hint of sadness in your voice as you ask, “So you believe someone who doesn’t fight back is weak?”

“I don’t believe it, I know it,” he replies with a coldness you’ve never seen in his eyes before, a spark of something dark igniting in his pupils.

He’s serious, there’s no underlying joke or hidden meaning behind his words. You feel a chill run through you, the tiny hairs on your arms standing on end.

Hannibal raises his hand toward your face, dragging his knuckles over the skin of your jaw. He seems almost impressed that you don’t flinch at his touch.

“You’re as strong as they come, my dear,” he murmurs, his voice so low it almost blends with the hum of the wind outside the windows. He leans in, his soft lips pressing against your forehead, and then he leaves the room without another word.

You’re left there alone and stunned, your eyes staring ahead but not really seeing. Your body trembles, but instead of pure fear, there’s a hint of excitement running through your veins. Adrenaline rushes through you, and the feeling of his presence lingers in the air, both comforting and unsettling.

You wait in the conference room for a few minutes, trying to collect yourself, half-hoping that Hannibal will return. You feel like you’ve just been through a whirlwind of emotions, thoughts, and sensations.

But all you’re left with is the memory of his scent lingering in the room and the soft touch of his lips on your skin.

“You look like a man who has suffered an irrevocable loss,” Hannibal’s voice breaks through the quiet melody of the aria playing in the car. The psychiatrist’s choice in music doesn’t surprise Will in the slightest; he’s gotten used to his refined tastes.

“I’m trying to prevent one,” Will counters, gazing over his shoulder at your sleeping form curled up in the backseat.

“You look so peaceful—far more relaxed than he imagined you would be. Hell, just ten minutes ago the thought of you sleeping in the presence of Hannibal Lecter didn’t even cross his mind. It was different from the last time; this time you didn’t have anything to drink or soothe you—nothing. You just let your guard down so easily as if you didn’t see a threat in Hannibal anymore. Will didn’t like that at all.

“Do you think if you save Peter Bernardone, you can save yourself?” Hannibal’s voice breaks the silence, his words carrying weight in the confined space of the car.

“Save myself from what, Dr. Lecter?” Will asks, his eyes staring ahead yet again, but there’s a hint of annoyance in his voice—barely detectable.

“From who you perceive me to be,” the psychiatrist responds, his eyes briefly leaving the road to glance at you through the rearview mirror. Will swears he sees a subtle quirk of the man’s mouth at the sight of you.

“I’m afraid I need to be saved from who you perceive me to be.”

“Many troublesome behaviors strike when you are uncertain of yourself,” Hannibal observes, his focus returning to Will. Perhaps he senses he’s been caught. “Peter Bernardone lies in the same darkness that holds you.”

“No, I’m alone in that darkness,” Will replies without hesitation.

“You’re not alone, Will. You have me and her, standing right beside you through all of this.”

Will’s eyes find your figure again, and he bites the inside of his cheek, lost in thought. “I’m not sure if I want her to be. I don’t want to scare her off.”

“You won’t, Will. She’s not going anywhere, trust me.” Hannibal reaches for the other man and squeezes his arm gently—it’s strangely comforting, though it shouldn’t be.

When you reach Peter’s place, it’s eerily empty. All of the cages have been left open—no animal in sight. You can’t imagine the agony Clark Ingram must have put him through. The sight breaks your heart into a million pieces because you know Peter Bernardone has been pushed to his limit.

The three of you rush toward the stables, ready for the worst. Will is panicking inside and out, his hands trembling and breath coming out in shaky puffs of air, while you and Hannibal remain fairly composed. The contrast in your behaviors is visible from miles away.

As you find Peter, he’s kneeling on the ground beside the body of a dark-coated horse, his work nearly finished. The needle slides through the animal’s skin effortlessly, like gliding through soft butter.

Will is the first to break the silence as he steps toward the kneeling man slowly, with apprehension evident in his movements. “Peter…” he whispers hoarsely, his eyes glued to the sight of the blood-soaked animal before him.

The scene takes a while for your mind to process. The image of that defenseless horse lying lifeless on the stable floor, the smell of blood lingering in the air along with the subtle scent of death. All of you already know what has happened here—it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.

Hannibal catches your gloved hand in his and pulls you closer to himself. You feel his steady presence beside you, a calming force amid the turmoil. His touch is unexpected, yet it speaks volumes.

“Is your social worker in that horse?”

“Yes. I used to have a horrible fear of…” Peter speaks up, his voice trembling slightly but not out of fear. “Of hurting anything.”

You glance at Hannibal to gauge his reaction to the situation, but instead, you find him already looking at you—his eyes filled with a strange admiration. You were right after all; Peter couldn’t hurt a fly unless he was pushed to his limits.

Weirdly enough, this twisted reverence makes you feel just a little bit sick to your stomach. You shuffle forward, seeking proximity to Will and distancing yourself from Hannibal, forcing him to release his grip on your hand.

“But… He helped me get over that. Feels so abnormal.” Peter lets out a pitiful chuckle, tears rolling down his bony cheeks.

“An abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is normal behavior,” Hannibal concludes, his eyes now cold and distant. You’re unsure whether it’s due to the situation before you or your withdrawal from his affectionate touch.

“I think he deserves to die,” the kneeling man says, his voice filled with helplessness as he looks between the three of you.

“He does,” you mumble, more to yourself than anyone else. You’re relieved when there’s no immediate reaction to your words, but the way Hannibal’s eyes bore into your back tells you he heard.

“But you didn’t deserve to kill him, Peter,” Will says, shaking his head. He crouches beside the man, offering a reassuring hand that rests gently on his back as Peter stares at the dead horse. “I want you to come with me.”

You and Will help the man stand up as his legs shake, threatening to give up beneath him. Only now do you see how much damage this situation has done to the poor guy. He didn’t deserve any of this, but the world has always been a cruel place—evil humans’ second nature.

When Will and Peter head toward the barn door, you and Hannibal linger behind. Will’s uncertain, but not worried glance your way is a testament that something has shifted between the three of you. You just have to figure out what.

“Cruelly poetic,” you say, standing a safe distance away from the man and the corpse.

“He’ll be just fine,” Hannibal murmurs in response to your statement as he watches Peter and Will slowly make their way out of the stable. His gaze is calculatingly cold, the smallest twitch of a muscle in his cheek betraying the emotions underneath—the genuine emotions he rarely lets others see.

“It was necessary,” he adds softly. “He needed to rid himself of that darkness within.”

“Necessary?” you question, your eyes still glued to the two men walking away and not the psychiatrist standing before you.

Hannibal’s eyes move from Peter and Will to you, the corner of his mouth twitching into a slight smirk. You feel like he’s expecting you to say something more, but you can’t think of anything to reply.

“Necessary,” he repeats, and now his eyes find yours with that same calculating stare.

“The way you view life and the world itself... It’s peculiar,” you notice, sticking your hands into the pockets of your coat.

Hannibal’s gaze never leaves yours, and he doesn’t reply at first. There’s a slight smirk playing on the corners of his mouth again, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he’s judging you or if he agrees.

“I find my way of viewing life perfectly reasonable,” he finally says quietly, the words almost whispered. You notice a small twitch of the muscles beneath his eyes, and you wonder if you said the right thing or not.

“You do?” you ask, still searching for his gaze, but you can tell that he’s no longer looking at you. He’s staring at something in the distance instead then heading toward one of the stalls that holds white sheep.

“In life, we need some form of guidance to help us navigate the unknown,” he adds quietly as he pets the woolly animals. They’re not afraid of him. “I’ve found mine. What about you?”

Before you have a chance to respond, you notice Clark Ingram’s bloody fingers, ripping the stitches on the dead horse’s stomach. He tears through them from within, letting the guts spill out of the corpse as he crawls out of it.

Hannibal strolls toward him so casually, his hands dipped into the pockets of his perfectly pressed pants as he looks at the man’s struggle. You join him by his side as an involuntary smirk crawls up your face at the sight of the social worker coughing out blood and stumbling over his own legs. It’s amusing.

The psychiatrist admires your expression, slightly astonished by your reaction. He certainly didn’t expect you to show your true colors so fast. Not a care in the world of how your satisfaction might come across to others.

When Ingram reaches for the bloody hammer, you feel Hannibal’s hands tugging you closer yet again. You let him, leaning on him like an old friend—hip to hip. The warmth of his body is comforting, stirring something insatiable deep inside you.

“Mr. Ingram. Might want to crawl back in there if you know what’s good for you,” Hannibal says casually as he steps aside, taking you with him.

You didn’t even realize that Will had entered the stables. He holds a gun steadily in his hands, pointing it straight at Ingram’s head. Your smirk disappears just as quickly as it appeared, slight shock taking its place on your face.

“Will…” you mumble breathlessly.

You try to reach for him, but Hannibal doesn’t let you step away from him as he tugs you even closer into his side. He presses his lips to your temple and whispers, “He won’t do anything. Don’t worry.”

You’re not sure you believe him. You’ve seen how personal this was to Will, how panic and pure anger took turns in taking over his body since the moment he met Peter. The emotions were controlling him in a way nothing and no one else could.

Ingram drops the sledgehammer to the ground, falling to his knees with arms open and raised like wings—like a blood angel. “Officer… I’m the victim here,” he breathes heavily, but the smile that flashes over his features tells a different story.

“I’m not an officer. I’m Peter’s friend,” Will counters, ignorant to your begging eyes.

Don’t do it, Will. Please, don’t do it.

“Peter’s confused.”

Will feigns hesitation as he lowers the gun just slightly. But the way he grips the weapon tells you easily that he’s far from done with Ingram—his hold doesn’t loosen even for a mere second.

“I’m not.” He raises it back up with an air of palpable confidence. He knows what he wants. He wants to see Clark Ingram begging for life, drowning in the pool of his own blood, choking on it.

You squeeze Hannibal’s fingers so tightly, you’re surprised when he doesn’t even flinch. He just observes Will expressionless.

“Please, Hannibal,” you beg him under your breath, barely audible. You know he hears you, even if he pretends otherwise.

“Pick up the hammer,” Will throws the command, gesturing toward the bloody object that was just thrown to the ground moments ago.

Hannibal glances at your horrified expression, then at Will’s lips pressed tightly in anger. “Will,” he finally interjects with so much stoicism in his voice. His stare alone is insistent enough to make just about anyone listen to him.

But not Will. Will is deaf to Hannibal’s words—especially right now. He doesn’t want to hear him, he doesn’t want to be heard by him. He has a chance to make it right for Peter’s sake, maybe even for his own sake.

“Pick it up,” Will keeps insisting, now, even more agitated. He pops the safety off and puts the pistol almost directly in front of Ingram’s face.

“It won’t feel the same, Will,” Hannibal tries again, stepping toward Will. “It won’t feel like killing me.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“You did the best anyone could do for Peter, but don’t do this for him. If you’re going to do this, Will, you have to do it for yourself.”

You blink slowly in shock before you push Hannibal away from your husband. You take his place and move so close to Will, you can almost feel his shaky breath on your skin.

“Will, please,” you beg softly, “don’t ruin your life. This isn’t going to fix anything.”

“How do you know, huh?” he spats out, his voice mean—meaner than he ever was toward you.

The adrenaline and the rush of the situation are threatening to derail any semblance of calm you’ve managed to keep over the past hour. You grit your teeth and murmur so quietly, in hopes only he can hear you, “Trust me, I know.”

That seems to awaken him temporarily as he looks at you for a second, confusion written all over his face. His eyes are wide open, searching your face for answers—he finds nothing.

Hannibal’s gaze never leaves you two, watching you carefully. Will is so focused on this mystery, he doesn’t even notice when you take the gun out of his hands and point it at Ingram yourself.

“What?” Will asks, his eyes snapping back to you as you push the gun towards Ingram.

“P-please… Please don’t,” the social worker begs as you step closer and press the gun harshly to his left temple.

“Oh, would you like me to be gentler?” you ask, tilting your head. There’s something deeply attractive about the way you hold the gun with unwavering determination, a fierce protectiveness radiating from you. There’s not an ounce of doubt in your expression; you really do look like a cop now.

Will, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, finds himself strangely drawn to you in this moment. His gaze is fixed on your face, and he can’t help but admire the way you look with that gun in your hand. It’s such a contrast to the innocent woman he married—it’s a side of you he never knew existed. There’s a primal allure to your fierce stance, a primal instinct that resonates with him on a level he can’t quite comprehend.

Hannibal notices the expression on Will’s face, and a smirk plays across his lips. He understands the magnetic pull that emanates from you—the allure. He shares the sentiment with Will, recognizing the primal attraction you exude as you hold the gun with a steady hand.

Your complexity intrigues and captivates them, drawing them in despite the inherent danger. They find it both thrilling and unsettling. The darkness hiding in them stirs with your presence, awakening that primitive instinct that’s been lurking in the depths of their souls. You have them completely entranced, and they can’t tear their eyes away.

Will once thought you were quite simple. He learned to read you like a book, then you disappeared and came back after almost ten years with no contact and he still felt like he knew you well enough. But lately? You’ve been unpredictable, complicated and twisted in your own particular way.

All of them hold their breath, the tension thick. The only sound heard is Will’s breathing—heavy and slow.

Ingram’s eyes are glued to yours. Something in the look he gives you makes all the anger and resentment wash away from your mind, and it takes you a moment to remember why you’re standing there with the gun.

You lean over Ingram and whisper something in his ear that no one else other than him can hear. Judging by the puddle of his own piss that pools on the floor, no one else would want to hear it. His eyes bulge with fear and shock, and he can’t make a peep in response.

Then, you pop the safety back on and hit the social worker in the temple with the butt of the gun. He tumbles over to the floor with a thud.

“Temporal region,” you conclude, straightening up. “You hit it with enough force and you can either kill someone or make them pass out.”

“Good to know,” Will mutters, looking at you again with newfound appreciation and respect.

Hannibal is also staring at you, with a newfound sense of admiration. He’s suddenly aware of your own power over others. As a psychiatrist, he’s learned what kind of tactics are used to break people down, and he knows that you used them against Ingram with devastating precision.

“What did you say to him?” he asks quietly, the rage still lurking just beneath the surface.

Hannibal watches as the two of you stare at each other intensely. He can’t help but feel a strange excitement rising inside of him as he watches the two of you square off against each other.

Will’s intensity is almost palpable—there’s a primal instinct within him that craves power, and he’s fascinated by the way you wield yours.

“Nothing that you need to know,” you reply simply, not about to divulge the details of your threat.

When Hannibal sees the intensity in both of your gazes, he can’t help but feel a strange stirring within him. He’s never seen the two of you so intense about anything before.

Will’s eyes narrow as he stares at you. He wants to know what you said, he wants to know the darkest depths of your mind. But he respects that it’s something you don’t want to share and lets it go.Hannibal can’t take his eyes off the two of you. It’s almost like he’s staring at a trainwreck he can’t look away from. He might just be right.

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believinghurts · 6 months

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Their Daughter Part 6

Tenison was high in the dining room of Grimmuald Place as the Black brothers stared one another down. Regulus knew that part of Sirius's anger was because he thought he had lost his child to his brother, much like when they were young, and their parents favored Regulus over him. But this was Sirius's own fault; Ali had tried even after she had been hurt that Sirius went to Harry first. Sirius could not get over the fact that Ali was close with the Malfoys and had taken to projecting his anger to the only person who would love him more than anything if he tried.

Sirius wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was jealous of Regulus. He always had been, but coming back from the hell he had been trapped in to find that his own daughter had chosen his brother over him hurt more than any torture he had ever faced. Regulus had always been the perfect child who everyone adored. He had gotten fewer beatings as a child than Sirius, had gotten better grades in school, and now was considered a dad to Ali. It was only natural for Sirius to go back to what he did during his school years and focus his attention on the people who showed him attention. Harry was his godchild, but Harry also had no one else, meaning Sirius didn't have to worry about being replaced. Sirius also felt awful for the events that transpired the night of James and Lily's deaths and was trying to make up for it.

"If you just gave her a chance, you may find she is much more like you than you think." Regulus sat at the table again, watching his older brother run his hands through his hair. "She is so headstrong and stubborn that I know it revivals yours. And I cannot express enough how she just wants to be good enough for you to love, much like how you tried for years with Mother."

Sirius sighed in defeat, regrettting the painful things he had put his daughter through. "I do love her. I just…."

"Are shit at showing it. I saw the look in your eyes when Ali called me dad; I know that hurt you. But instead of talking about it, you just lash out at her or me or Remus, making it seem like you really don't care at all. I never tried to fill that role in her life. I was and will always be Uncle Reg, and that is fine. Do I see her as my child and love her like my own? Yes, absolutely. I will do anything for her, and if that fills that role as a father, I will. But I don't want to take that from you. You had so much stolen from you in your life, Sirius: your childhood, your parents, your best friend, 12 years of your life. The last thing I want to do is take more away, but I cannot and will not put you above her. She deserves so much in this world, and you should help her get it. We both should. But the question remains: will you put aside your 'every Slytherin is a Death Eater' mindset to do so? Because people have changed and we are close to the Malfoys, Notts, Parkinson's, and the Zabini's. They are not the same people anymore. Things have changed in the war; sides have changed. But you haven't. Ali is loyal to a fault and is a great judge of character; she won't betray the Order, nor will the others. Just give people a chance, Sirius."

"I did give people a chance, and it…..it got my best friend and his wife killed. We trusted Peter. I trusted Peter enough to have James make him the secret Keeper. It got them killed, and he was our friend. How am I supposed to trust that Lucius Malfoy has the Order's best interest at heart when my own friend of 9 years didn't?" Sirius started pacing before his brother. His head is cloudy in memories, tears blurring his eyes as his best friend's dead body flashed in front of him. "I know that I'm shit at showing Ali I love her, and part of it is because I'm scared to get close only to lose her again to someone like Lucius Malfoy. I owe it to James to look after Harry, but that doesn't mean I don't love him like my own because I do. But I love Ali just as much, and I know she has you, Remus, and even Snivillious to love her. And I want to try to improve things with her; I just don't know how. How do I fix what I've done, Regulus?"

Regulus caught the double meaning to his brother's question, "You can't. Sirius, you can't fix what happened to James and Lily. You can't fix how you've treated Ali so far."

Sirius felt his heart crack at his brother's words. He had hoped to get Ali back, but it seemed he had gone too far. He started for the stairs when Regulus continued.

"But that doesn't mean you can't fix it from now on. You can't change the past and bring James back, but you can make them proud by loving and protecting Ali and Harry. I mean, yeah, they don't get along now, but I think part of that is because he has seen and heard how you and James treated outsiders. I know they used to play together as babies, not that they would remember it, but Remus told me. Tell how close they were till everything happened, and bring them back together. Stop being afraid of losing Ali to someone when all everyone wants to do is love her and keep her safe. And maybe you don't trust Lucius or the others right now, but I trust them more than Dumbledore most of the time. And you should talk to Moody about the help Lucius has given the Order even if he refuses to say he has aligned himself with us." Regulus held his brother's shoulder, "Give them a chance. Don't let the other kids make remarks about Ali and her friends. Talk to her. I wouldn't start trying to act like her father, but maybe a friend? Or a really distant uncle. You'll figure it out, Sirius; you're smarter than you give yourself credit for."

Sirius followed his brother up the stairs, going to bed with hope, lighting a flame in his heart for the first time in years.

Days following the talk between Regulus and Sirius, Ali noticed that the golden trio had become slightly nicer to her. She does not make as many comments about her or her friends. She had no idea what was happening but wasn't going to complain. Regulus had come to her that morning telling her that he thought it a better idea if Blaise came to their house instead of her going over there. He believed it would show that the Slytherins were not as bad as all the others thought.

At first, Ali was hesitant about the idea. Still, after being reassured that Remus would be home as well as Regulus, Ali agreed. The thought of Blaise being at her house surrounded by her tormentors made her sick to her stomach. She wanted nothing more than to run away for a few days, but that ship had sailed, and it was only hours before Blaise arrived when Regulus called for 'those who live in this house meeting.' By the time Ali had gotten dressed and cleaned her room, everyone was already in the kitchen since it seemed to be the usual gathering place for the group. She straightened her sweater and did a quick glance down to make sure her outfit was still okay. It was slightly chilly in the house, so she had gone with a Bulgarian Quidditch sweater that was mainly red with black details and a pair of cropped black leggings with matching fuzzy socks. She and Blaise had already decided to stay for most of the day and then go and get dinner somewhere in Diagon Ally so she could change later. Remus and Regulus walked at the same time as Sirius and Harry.

"I'm assuming everyone is confused about why this meeting was called," Remus started. "There seems to be an assumption that Slyertians and those associated with them are all Death Eaters or traitors."

Scowls had overtaken most of the younger one's faces in the room, as well as Sirius's. Ali looked at her uncle, trying to figure out where this was going. She knew the reason was to inform everyone that Blaise would be here for a few days, but there was something else going on; she could feel it.

"After speaking with Dumbledore and getting his permission, not that I technically need the permission as it is my house, but nevertheless. A few individuals will be coming to stay here for the upcoming days, and there will be a couple of visitors as well." Regulus's eye caught Ali's, and gave her a wink just as the sound of footsteps entered the foyer. Ali was too short to see over everyone's heads to see who was there, but from the looks on a couple faces, including the elder Weasley, it was someone they were not fond of.

A flash of white hair caught Ali's eye as the group entered the kitchen. Her mouth dropped in shock as she took in her uncle Severus, leading the Malfoys, Blaise, and Theo towards Regulus and Remus. Cissa shot her a wink while Draco eyed Harry and Sirius up and down; Blaise kept his eyes locked on Ali, and Theo thoroughly enjoyed the shocked looks from the Weasleys.

"Sorry, we're late. Draco took too long in the mirror this morning," Severus said. Draco glared at his Godfather before continuing on with his glare at Potter.

"Well, allow me to introduce everyone. This is Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, which I'm sure almost all of you know. This is Blaise, Theodore, and Draco. Narcissa and Lucius will be in and out for the next bit trying to get caught up on Order business while the latter three will be staying here for a bit." Remus shook Lucius's hand before joining Dora beside Ali, who was bouncing on her toes, overly excited at the fact that it was going to be back to normal in the next couple of days.

"You can't be serious. They are staying here?" Sirius exclaimed, running his hand down his face before glaring at Lucius. "I still remember what you did, Malfoy."

"I don't often agree with Sirius, but Dumbledore said this was alright?" Arthur asked. Ali knew that the Malfoys hadn't been the kindest to the Weasleys in the past, and she felt sorry for them in that aspect, but Lucius was not the same man as he was during her first year. And Narcissa wouldn't hurt a flea.

Remus stepped forward again, "He did. Narcissa and Lucius will be helping with some scooting missions that are coming up since they know that area of town better and are considering joining the Order. The three brats are mainly for Ali, though."

"Did you miss us short stack?" Theo opened his arms for Ali, who jumped straight into them. Theo gave her a twirl before pulling on her braid. She barely had time to catch her breath before Draco had her spinning again and tickling her sides, making her squeal.

"Of course I missed you! What kind of question is that?!" Ali giggled before hugging Blaise despite her uncle Remus glaring at them. Blaise took her hand and gave it a squeeze when they parted before facing the other children in the room. Theo and Draco took the opposite sides of Ali, showing a united front against the ones who had been horrible towards her.

Ali was ecstatic that they were going to be in the house more. Maybe her summer wouldn't end so badly. Sirius was shocked that Dumbledore had cleared this and even more shocked that Lucius would help the Order. He did not trust him and would go on those missions even if he had to go as Padfoot. This was outrageous and downright stupid, allowing death eaters to snoop freely in the Order business. Looking at his daughter, he could see how happy she was to be surrounded by her friends, but he also knew that he would have to keep a closer eye on her than he already was. He had asked the trio to play nice so he had more people watching her. He did trust that she was a Death Eater, and now he was surrounded by them.

"Al, Kreatcher sat up extra beds in your room for the boys. Pansy should be joining later, but she had something come up with her grandfather. Her mother said she would owl when she was on her way." Regulus leveled each of the boys with a look. "You lot know the rules. I don't care if you have fun but clean up after yourselves, and don't be too loud when it gets late. Curfew is at 10pm and no later. If you are leaving the house, go in pairs at least and let one of the adults you know be aware of where you're going. You lot know the food is fair game, and Kretcher has already been instructed to grocery shop more often. The house is also fair game, but be respectful, please."

"Don't worry, Uncle Reg. I'll keep them in line," Draco smirked at the other three before Severus whacked him upside the head.

Ali turned and looked at the younger swarm of redheads and others in the room. She cleared her throat to get the attention on her, which made her take an unconscious step back toward Blaise and Draco. "Everyone, this is Theo, Blaise and Draco. I'm sure most of you know this, but just in case. You are welcome to join our fun, but we get if you don't want to." Ali pulled the boys out of the room after greeting her aunt and uncle. They sat on the living room floor with wizards, chess, and a few other games while a movie played in the background. Kreacher brought out snack trays for them, and the laughter was music to Regulus's ears after all the quiet he'd heard from Ali this summer.

Ali could feel the stares from those around them, most directed at Draco and her. She could see the disbelief every time Draco laughed or made a joke. This was the side of Draco that was rarely seen by others. An hour had passed before a chess match went on between Draco and Ali. Blaise sat to one side of Ali, and Theo was in the middle of her and Draco, watching the death match continue.

"What dare shall I have you do this time, Als" Draco taunted her while he moved his piece. It was an ongoing rule that when she and Draco played wizarding chess, the loser had to do a dare of the winner's choice. It was always a toss-up in who won, as both were incredibly good at the game.

"Don't think too hard; I wouldn't want to overwork that one brain cell of yours." Ali stuck her tongue out at Draco when she stole his knight.

Draco was about to reply when a shadow came over the top of the board. Looking up, there was the eldest two Weasley children and Fleur. Ali could see the hearts in Theo's eyes before she kicked him in the shin. "She's engaged, you idiot."

Bill and Charlie chuckled, "We saw you guys playing games and were curious if we could join you? I have my board and thought we could do a little tournament."

Charlie held up his chess board. The teens all nodded, and with a snap of his fingers, Charlie's board was all set up. Bill took one side of the board before looking at Theo. "You up for a challenge?"

Theo crawled to the opposite side of the small table. Bill made the first move, and the game commenced. Charlie and Fleur took seats around the rest of them and started trash-talking with them, too. Charlie was on Ali's side, whereas Fleur took Dracos. Regulus, Molly, and Narcissa looked around the corner and had smiles spread across their faces at the sight they saw. It wasn't the younger kids trying to get along with the others, but the eldest and Molly knew that her children all looked up to their brothers, so maybe there was hope in this crazy plan after all.

#harry potter #remus lupin #sirius black #harry potter fanfiction #blaise zabini x reader #remus lupin x daughter #regulus black x niece!reader #regulus black #severus snape x niece!reader #severus snape #sirius black x daughter!reader #sirius blacks daughter #narcissa malfoy #draco malfoy x platonic!reader #theodore nott #harry potter marauders

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mykinkyyandere · 1 year

Text

The Hopeless Door

AO3

Pairings: Yandere/Dark! Peter Pevensie X f!Reader

Summary: Peter is being hard on you for your own good. Or is it for his own good?

Warnings: Yandere, dark, kidnapped reader, forced relationship/marriage, manipulation, non-con implies, non-con touching, controlling, yelling, mild brute force, emotional abuse, mature characters, sorry if i missed sth

You squirmed under Peter's grip. Exploring Narnia would have been a wonderful experience. Making new extraordinary friends in this beautiful world and maybe living in there forever. Thanks to your new good friends, you would find a way to survive, after all, there were greater difficulties in your own world. Going to school, having a job, bills and more difficult tasks that the future imposes on you. It would be easier to make a good life for yourself in Narnia. But not like this, not with a young king who was extremelly obsessed with you. The king of Narnia, no, High King of Narnia? Oh, how could you have guessed? How could you have known that he would trick you into kidnapping and forcibly marrying you? He wasn't a cruel person, but his desire to have you was creepy. He manipulated you all the time. He made you believe he was the only person who could protect you. He told you if you don't marry him, marry the king, your life will be very difficult, you will never survive in Narnia. Yes, even if you had very good friends. Silly girl, you couldn't trust them. Even that showed him how naive you were. Then he convinced you when you wanted to go back to your world. As if he would let you go otherwise.

"I used to live there myself once. It was a very frustrating and difficult world, even for me. Poor people who constantly despise you, life constantly wants more from you, losing your home, losing your loved ones... What are you going to do when you get back there? Don't you see how wonderful I can make your life here? I will offer you a rich life, you will always be happy. The things you worry about in the world will never come to your mind again, so much so that you will even forget their existence. Here's an opportunity for you. Escape from that world and live here with me. All you have to do is be mine. I love you."

He liked everyone kneel on his feet, and he wanted you to get down on your knees. To look at him from the floor with your big, sweet eyes... These were new feelings for him. He didn't have time for girls, already had two girls to look after. But you weren't his sibling, you gave him new experiences, new sense of protecting. He didn't even know he could feel that way and he wanted more.

"It hurts!" He grasped your arm so tightly that he wasn't even aware of it. He was angry, everyone you walked past bowed their heads in fear. "I can't believe you were trying to run away from me!" Nevertheless he loosened his grip. He didn't want to hurt you. He was sure that one day you would look for a way back, but still he couldn't help feeling betrayed. Didn't he give you everything you wanted? Hasn't he been very nice to you? Never once did he let someone hurt you.

"I wasn't! I was just..." The guards opened the big doors and waited for Peter, who was pulling you with big steps, to enter your shared bedroom. He kind of pushed you into your shared bed. He used to give you time to get used to marriage and let you sleep in a separate bed, but then he wanted you next to him. He wanted your warmth. He made it clear that he was now your husband and you had to get used to sleeping with him. He promised he wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want to.

"You just what?" He couldn't believe he just forced you to stay in bed, holding your arm and pushing you. He didn't want to hurt you, he didn't want to use brute force on you, and he never thought of doing it, but he liked the dominance he had over you. It reminded him that he has you. You were his. No matter how much he respected your boundaries and wouldn't touch you unless you wanted him to, you were his. He would have you every day and every night if he wanted to. You couldn't fight him, you didn't have the strength to stop him. It would have been so easy to take off your clothes, pin you to the bed and spread your legs... You were so defenseless against him, completely at his mercy. Sometimes he forgot this fact because of his love for you, but every time you caused trouble, you reminded him. He didn't know if you were overconfident in your strength or if you were underestimating him, but evidences showed both. He wanted you to come to him of your own free will and see that he wasn't a bad person. He didn't want you to fear or hate him, he wanted you to love him. To have you completely, that was his goal. More important than having your body was having your heart, but he was running out of patience.

"I just wanted to see if the door was still there." Your voice trembled, the tears started to fall. He hated seeing you like this. He always hated seeing you cry. From the first moment he talked to you, he didn't or couldn't hide how protective and "listen to me" type of person he was. He was very caring and loving, but when he said no, it was a no. He knew the best of everything and expected you to accept his leadership. There were times when he told you about his family. You felt bad that the responsibility of being a father was placed on his shoulders at a young age. He was taking on a lot of responsibility, but that didn't justify him forcing you to live under his wings.

"Then what? You open it, and there's no Narnia anymore, there's no us anymore!" He shouted and ran his fingers through his hair. He was so afraid of losing you that he thought it was necessary to show his anger. That's why he kept talking until you sobbed.

"Stop!" You tried to get up but he was faster. He got on top of you and held your chin, pinning your wrists above your head. "Where do you think you're going?"

You tried to push him off, but you couldn't. He was so strong or you were so weak, or just both. All you could do was cry trapped under his body. "The door is gone and you already knew that! Then why are you making me suffer so much? Why did you want to make everything a living hell for me when you knew I couldn't leave, that I was trapped here forever?" You controlled your sobs as much as possible and screamed. "You destroyed the door so I couldn't leave!"

"I thought you just went to check if the door was still there. Why are you so upset about me destroying the door? Is it because I've ruined your secret escape plans for good?" Peter was aggressive, he didn't plan this. When you cried, he wanted to hold you in his arms and caress your head and comfort you. Now instead he was on top of you, touching you inappropriately and cornering you by talking mercilessly. He got caught up in the fact that he needed a little brute force to get the things he wanted to happen.

"You are mine. Do you understand? I own you, my love. I am your husband and I am your King. You are in my world and you are mine. I own these people and this crown. I have my siblings and they know I am in charge. Wherever I look, I see things that are mine. And you, when I look at you, I see my most precious treasure that I have. When I look at you, I see a warm bed, a promising heir, a bright future. I see a home. My home."

He turned your chin and kissed you on the neck. "I am truly sorry for making you cry. Sometimes love is hard. Whether you get angry, yell, punish, you do it for the sake of the one you love. Difficult, but necessary."

He kissed your neck one more time and let go of your chin. You were still sobbing. He let go of your wrists as well and held your cheeks. "I love you. I am so much in love with you that you could never imagine. I am so sorry, but everything I did and said was for your good."

He got up off you and gently took you in his arms. You didn't look at him or didn't resist. Oh, you were afraid of him, and that was something he never wanted. It would have taken a very long time to wait for you to come anyway. It made him sad to realise that he had no choice but to force you to be his.

He put you under the covers and kissed you on the forehead. "I know crying always makes you sleepy. Now get some rest, and then I'll take you for a little ride with my horse. You need some fresh air and I also know you like it when I show you around." He smiled and wiped away your tears with his thumb.

#yandere peter pevensie x reader #yandere peter pevensie #dark peter pevensie x reader #dark peter pevensie #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie #yandere narnia #dark narnia #king peter pevensie #high king peter #king peter the magnificent #yandere king #yandere king x reader #narnia x reader #peter pevensie fanfic #peter pevensie one-shot #peter pevensie imagine #narnia imagine #the hopeless door

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panandinpain0 · 9 months

Note

Yo so like, r u ok writing for Peter Parker?? If so, could you write a Peter x Male Reader where the reader is both a charmer and peter’s ultimate hype man (sorry Ned). Around prom season, Peter asks the reader for help to ask his crush to the prom, and the reader is sadge bc he thinks it’s MJ. Slight chaos and maybe some nervous gay boy stuff ensues??

Roses

Yes, I'd love to write for Peter Parker! (And because you brought up Ned I'm assuming it's Tom Holland's Peter.)

Also, I'm in love with this prompt <3

@@@

Requested by: Anon

Peter Parker x Male!Reader

---

Peter was at his locker, talking to Ned about his Lego death star, when (Y/N) approached his locker. Peter closed it and raised his eyebrows at (Y/N), while Ned jumped in shock (neither had seen him approach but Peter's spidey-senses- or should I say "Peter-Tingles"- came in handy).

"Are you guys planning a Star Wars marathon without me?" (Y/N)'s jaw dropped with a betrayed look on his face, hand to his heart. "What happened to the brotherhood?"

Ned snorted and Peter laughed, turning to walk down the hallway.

"We were gonna' invite you anyways, (Y/N), we always do," Ned reassured, giving in to his teasing.

"Good. So, whaddya' say, Pete? Star Wars at your house this Friday?" (Y/N) asked, putting his hand on Peter's shoulder and smiling at him as they walked.

Clearing his throat quietly, Peter nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

"It's a good thing too, because I need help studying for this chem test coming up, and I was wondering if you'd help me?" (Y/N) asked him, hand still on his shoulder.

In truth, (Y/N) was barely getting by in chemistry for a reason. It's not that he wasn't smart enough or that he wasn't putting in the work- it was that he was sat next to Peter and couldn't stop looking at him. Trying to goof off with him in class was one of (Y/N)'s favorite pastimes, and what got them in trouble the most.

This gave him an excuse to beg Peter desperately for help with his homework, therefore getting to spend more time with him. It was a solid plan in his mind.

"For sure! Studying and then Star Wars, sounds like the perfect Friday," Peter said back, always too nice (or too love-struck) to say no to (Y/N).

Ned looked between them, realizing they were doing the smiling-at-each-other-for-too-long thing, and coughed to get their attention.

(Y/N) and Peter both looked over at him and Ned smiled, "So, got any dates to prom yet?" It was meant to be a joke, the three of them in the "nerd" clique, even though realistically they were all very attractive and much more than just nerds. (Considering one of them was the web-slinging super hero, they were much more than just smart.)

"Nope," (Y/N) and Peter said in unison, laughing together.

"What about you, Ned?" (Y/N) asked back, and Ned shook his head like it was a joke he was even asking.

"Who'd wanna go out with me?" Ned asked a bit glumly, thinking he was the unattractive one in their friend group.

"Well, I have an idea." (Y/N) winked at him and pointed down the hallway. A girl named Darla, who they'd gone to school with since elementary, noticed she'd been caught staring and blushed, turning back to her locker quickly.

Ned stuttered for a minute, his face heating up. "No, she must've been looking at one of you-"

"Dude, she's been in love with you since the eighth grade!" (Y/N) insisted, moving between Peter and Ned and throwing his arm over Ned's shoulder. "I bet you twenty bucks that if you ask her out she'll say yes."

Shaking his head in doubt, Ned stuttered again, before giving up.

"She'll probably be asked out by the captain of the football team or something- that's always what happens with the cheerleaders."

"Oh, come on buddy. You've got a chance, you're the only one that doesn't see it," Peter insisted.

"She knows me because I help her with her calculus homework..."

"Just try. If not, what's the worse that can happen?" (Y/N) asked nonchalantly.

"I'll get humiliated."

"Or she could say yes," Peter countered.

"Fine, I'll do it if you guys leave me alone about it."

"That's all I ask." (Y/N) held his hands up in surrender. Then he turned to Peter and they fist bumped.

Once they got outside Ned split off, going his own way home while (Y/N) pulled out his skateboard. Happy waved from the limousine at Peter, letting him know that he was here to take him to Tony.

(Y/N) let out a low whistle, looking at the limo. "Nice ride, Parker. Perks from the internship?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, Mr. Stark sends Happy to pick me up when its more urgent." Technically it wasn't a full lie, he'd usually only get picked up by Happy if it involved emergencies.

"Well, drive safe. Text me if you need anything, or just if you're bored." (Y/N) pulled Peter into a hug, patting his back and putting down his skateboard.

"See you tomorrow!" Peter patting him back before watching him skate off, looking back to Happy. As he approached the door opened, and his jaw dropped as he saw Tony.

"Was that your boyfriend?" he teased, glasses at the end of his nose.

"Oh! Mr. Stark, I didn't know-"

"Hop in kid, we've got places to be."

...

Knocking on the Parker's apartment door, (Y/N) played with the colorful box in his hands.

May opened it, smiling when she saw who it was.

"(Y/N)! It's such a pleasure to have you, Ned and Peter are in Peter's room." May pulled him into a hug and (Y/N) returned it, smiling at the comfort he got every time he was welcomed into their home.

"Thanks, May. Here, my mom made you those cupcakes you like." He held out the box and May gasped, her smile getting brighter.

"Oh, that woman..." she shook her head in amusement. "Tell her thanks! Now I've got to make her that pasta she likes so much."

(Y/N) laughed and patted May's shoulder before making his way to Peter's room.

"Happy Friday boys!" (Y/N) announced as he walked into his room.

"You said that this morning," Ned commented laughing as (Y/N) slung his backpack to the floor.

"No, this morning I said 'It's Friday'. This time it's happy," (Y/N) corrected with a smirk, sitting down on the floor with Peter and Ned.

"Don't forget, it's not just Star Wars it's also studying," Peter reminded with a laugh, pulling his books out of his backpack.

(Y/N) let out a dramatic groan, clearly joking, because he didn't mind what he did as long as he got to hang out with his friends (especially Peter).

About half an hour into studying, Ned left to use the bathroom and Peter and (Y/N) started talking.

"You've asked people out before, right (Y/N)?"

"Yeah, why? You got someone in mind?" MJ was (Y/N)'s first guess. (Y/N) had seen how he looked at MJ and wished it was him instead.

Peter, on the other hand, was only thinking of (Y/N). He was extremely handsome and charming, always jokingly flirting with Peter- but no matter how smart he was, he was oblivious to Peter's obvious attraction to him.

"Uh, yeah, I do. I was wondering if you could help me ask them out to prom? Just like, give me tips or something on how to impress them..." Peter nervously chuckled as he trailed off, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh, sure! But I'm not sure there's much I can say to help. You're a really great guy Peter, and anybody would be lucky to have you. I know everyone says this, but just be yourself and depending on the reaction you get it'll tell you if they're the right person for you or not." (Y/N) shrugged, not really sure what else to say.

Peter nodded, trying to figure out how to impress (Y/N). "Should I get them flowers? Or make one of those 'promposal' signs?"

"I always thought those signs were kind of tacky, but if you think they'll like it then I think you should go for it. And I think the flowers are a nice idea..." (Y/N) tried to give him a smile, but he didn't think it looked very confident. It hurt, not knowing if he liked (Y/N) back- but it hurt worse knowing he liked someone else.

"Okay. Okay, I'll bring them flowers. What kind do you think I should get?"

Just then, Ned walked back into the room, stopping hesitantly in the doorway as if he'd interrupted something.

"Hey, Ned," (Y/N) greeted, smiling at him.

"What's up?" Ned asked, still not sure if he should sit back down or not. He considered making an excuse about asking May for snacks or something, but they weren't giving him any clear signs that he wasn't welcome in the conversation.

"Just talking about asking people to prom," Peter responded with a shrug, going back to his homework.

"Peter was wondering what flowers he should get for his crush," (Y/N) gained back some confidence with the joke, nudging Peter playfully.

"Oh?" Ned asked, eyebrows up as he retook his seat on the ground, looking between the two. He noticed their behavior and realized it was going to be weird for a while- and that he couldn't say anything. He held back a sigh at that thought.

"Yeah, what kind do you think I should get them, Ned?" Peter asked as (Y/N) started twirling his pen in his hand.

"Who're they for? Everyone has favorite flowers, right?" Ned thought aloud, looking through his notes.

"I say roses. Everybody likes roses," (Y/N) concluded, nodding as he talked.

The boys went back to studying (and eventually Star Wars).

...

Monday morning's were always rough, and prom was that Saturday so everybody was buzzing (much to (Y/N)'s annoyance).

Closing his locker with a yawn he turned to walk to his first class, chemistry with Peter, just to be jump scared by said boy.

"Woah! Peter, hey. Gave me a heart attack," (Y/N) mumbled as he clutched his chest, his breathing ragged.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to..." Peter looked sheepish as he gulped down his nerves.

"Are you okay? You look really... sweaty." That's when (Y/N) noticed the roses in his hand and his mood dropped. "Oh, you must be nervous to ask out your crush, huh?"

Peter nodded, taking in a deep breath.

"Yeah. I just hope he says yes." And he held out the flowers with a almost scared looking smile.

"(Y/N), will you go to prom with me?"

His jaw hit the floor, eyes wide with confusion and shock. He never thought in a million years Peter would ask him out, much less over MJ, who was watching from her locker next to his with a smirk.

Truth is, Peter knew that MJ and (Y/N) shared an art class and were friends, so he asked her for advice. That's what led to the awkward study conversation, and the roses in front of (Y/N)'s face.

"Wait- what? Really?" (Y/N) asked, searching Peter's face for any hints of a prank or deception. "You're shitting me, right Parker?"

Peter just shook his head, heart racing a mile a minute.

"You said roses, so I got you roses. I'm sure if you knew I was meaning you you'd have said another kind of flower but I couldn't figure out how to ask you what your favorite flower was without giving myself away-" Peter rambled, fumbling with the paper around the bouquet of roses.

(Y/N) put his hand on Peter's fumbling one and smiled at him, "I'd love to go to prom with you, Peter. I love the roses- and I'm so glad you didn't make one of those stupid poster boards."

The boys broke into somewhat relieved laughter and Peter pulled him into a hug.

That's when they remembered that they were in the middle of a highschool hallway. Everybody was staring at them, and both of their faces were shades warmer than before.

Ned, always the loyal friend, stepped in.

"Darla!" he all but shouted through the hallway, everybody's attention going to him. He was holding a singular tulip in his hand and was sweating bullets. "Will you go to prom with me?"

Some kids started laughing, but they turned into gasps as Darla nearly squealed as she nodded her head, her curls bouncing with her movement.

"Yes, Ned! I'd love to!" She hugged him, while he just stood there in absolute astonishment. His original plan was to pull attention away from his best friends by being humiliated, not by pulling the most beautiful and talented girl in the school.

(Y/N) started clapping and hollering, Peter soon joining him.

Then the bell rang, and everybody started going to their classes.

...

"I still can't believe that happened," Ned whispered from Peter's carpeted floor, staring up at the ceiling in amazement.

Peter and (Y/N) sat on his bed, putting together the Lego death star shoulder to shoulder. They'd steal looks at each other every once in a while, blushing at their newfound romance.

When they watched a movie with May later that night they held hands and shared a blanket, and all May did was smile at them when she noticed.

---

Yippee!!!

Not as chaotic as I'm sure you were hoping, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing this.

Thank you anon! I hope you liked it.

-Author Max <3

#fanfiction #x reader #fluff #x he/him reader #x male!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter x reader #avengers fandom #avengers masterlist #avengers x male!reader #marvel x male!reader

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imagines--galore · 11 months

Note

idk Peter being toxic and reader and him both know that he’s bad for this relationship but it’s smutty? it could also end in fluff

Pairing: TASM! Peter Parker x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: M. Romance. Angst. Fluff. A bit of smut, allusions to sex, and minor drinking so those under 18 please turn away. A/N: Ok yes, I live for these kind of requests! Also I think this fic got away from me a little bit. Woops? Also, THIS was a roller coaster to write!

What had started out as a casual one time thing, had quickly escalated into something that would not be considered healthy.

Peter had been grieving, was still probably grieving, the loss of his girlfriend. Gwen Stacy. His first love.

You had been mourning the loss of your best friend. The girl you had known since you were in kindergarten together. Had grown up with. Whom you considered a sister and told everything to.

Seems like none of those feelings and years of friendship mattered when you slept with Peter the first time a month after her death.

You felt guilty everyday. Simply recalling the memory of that first night made you feel twisted up and sick inside. You were betraying her, betraying Gwen by sleeping with her boyfriend.

Former boyfriend, your mind had tried to reason with you on more then one occasion. That did not matter, your heart had argued back, she had still loved him, she said so herself.

As you sat in your apartment, nursing a warm cup of tea between your cold hands, your treacherous mind drifted to the fateful night. How you had been crying into your pillow, trying your best to get some sleep. You had a long day of work tomorrow, and yet sleep alluded you. Flashes of Gwen's smiling and laughing plagued your mind, causing you to close your eyes, wishing for those images to go away. They were only causing you heartache.

But then you heard someone, right outside your window. You sat up, and once you recognized that silhouette through the drawn curtains of your window, you quickly threw it open, allowing Peter to stumble in.

You could smell the alcohol on his breath, barely caught him when he almost fell over. You questioned him, asking if he was alright and what was he thinking swinging around while drinking. He could've gotten seriously hurt. He wasn't full on drunk, but he was a little inebriated at the very best.

But once he met your gaze, and you were able to see the sheer sorrow and despair in his eyes, you stopped in your questioning. He whispered Gwen's name before all but falling against you, sobbing into your shoulder.

You felt your own tears sting your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him and held him closer, needing to feel his warmth just as he needed to feel yours. He kept whispering Gwen's name and how he could save her, how he had failed to save the girl he loved. As an act of comfort you pressed a kiss to his forehead, before moving to brush your lips against his cheek.

What you hadn't anticipated was him moving his head at the exact moment. Just enough to allow your lips to meet his lips. Shocked, you quickly pulled back, stuttering an apology as your cheeks reddened and you moved to step out of his embrace. But he stopped you, bringing you back to him. He was looking at you now, and you knew his heart was beating just as fast as yours given how you had your hands pressed up against his chest.

Neither of you knew who moved first, but a moment later your lips clashed together in a flurry of teeth and tongues as your hands began to explore one another. Clothes were pulled off, two bodies fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and heady kisses. There was nothing romantic, soft or slow about what happened next.

It was raw.

Emotional.

Desperate.

Your lips continued to meet, tongues battling against one another, hands never stilling as the two of you explored the other's body. There was no gentleness to it either. It was scrapping nails and gripping the other with an almost bruising strength. Never once did either of you open your eyes, perhaps because deep down you knew that once you did, the moment would be over, and reality would come crashing down.

All you needed, what both of you needed, was some semblance of comfort. Of familiarity. A reminder that you weren't alone. Neither of you.

And when Peter pushed himself inside you, when he began to move against you, when you held on tighter and buried your face into his neck to bite and nip at the sensitive flesh, when he moaned deep and sensual against your ear, when you threw back your head and allowed the sweet sweet release to drown every coherent thought from both of your minds, you found.......peace.

As you came down from your high, Peter rolled away from on top of you. You had wrapped your blanket around your body, laying on your back and staring up at the ceiling as you slowly came back to your body, and realized what you had just done.

And perhaps you were feeling selfish, perhaps you were angry at Gwen for leaving you, or perhaps you were exhausted from that constant gut-wrenching pain that crushed your soul, but you couldn't bring yourself to regret your actions. Peter had given you a few moments where you didn't feel like your heart was breaking. And you knew, he had found comfort in your body as well.

Though it didn't stop that feeling of guilt prickle under your very skin as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

————————–

That had been almost six months ago.

Since then, whenever Gwen's loss would get too much for either of you, Peter more so then you, the two of you would sought out the company of the other.

And while it did provide the two of you with some semblance of comfort and peace for a few moments, your friendship turned into a dry husk.

Before that Gwen's death, you and Peter had been decent friends. You had always been a third wheel between the two lovebirds, but you didn't mind. You were happy for your friend, and Peter was a great guy. And the two of you shared a passion for photography. Now? For almost a year, you hadn't spoken to one another. Even during sex there was barely any verbal exchange, unless one would count sounds of pleasure and approval. Even after sex things were quiet.

Once the act was done, you two would either lay on your back, or turn your backs to each other. And if it had been a particularly tiring day, you would sleep together. Otherwise one of you would put your clothes on and leave.

No greeting, no goodbyes.

And it was tearing you apart.

Tears lined your eyes and this time you didn't bother wiping them away. Pushing aside the now cold tea, you buried your head in your arms placed atop the kitchen island and cried. With every sob your shoulders shook.

You cried for Gwen.

You cried for Peter.

You cried for yourself.

You cried until you had no tears left, but you didn't move from your position.

————————–

A gentle hand on your shoulder was what shook you awake. Your head snapped up, eyes blinking to clear away the sleep and remaining tears as you did. You found Peter looking down at you, at the look in his eyes seemed to drive a knife into your heart.

He hadn't seen you cry, and yet you had a feeling he had been there for a long time now.

"We need to talk." You said, your voice low and quivering as you looked up at him.

Silently, he nodded.

————————–

It was her first death anniversary, and you were beginning to feel like your old self again.

You stood in front of her grave, holding a bouquet of beautiful yellow roses. The color symbolized two things, the deep friendship the two of you had shared, and the forgiveness you sought from your friend. Slowly sliding to the ground to sit cross-legged in front of the headstone, you heaved a deep sigh.

"Well its been quite the year Gwenie. My first one without you and its been so strange. Not having you here." As you spoke, you untied the ribbon that was tied around the bouquet, allowing the flowers to separate in your lap. "I did manage to get the apartment we both had our eye on, of course I have to work two jobs now, to pay rent, but its okay, its keeping me busy." You set down a flower on the grass in front of the tombstone.

Tears pricked your eyes but you continued. "And you won't believe it, but I finally managed to get around to watching The Lord of the Rings. I understand now why you begged me to all those years. Though its unfair of you to have called dibs on Aragorn without giving me a fair chance." A small laugh fell from your lips as you laid down another flower.

"Your mom and brothers are alright. They moved away a couple months after you went. I still talk to them over the phone. Your mom actually asked me to come and pick up some of the stuff we shared over the years. Says you would want me to have it. Though she doesn't know I already called dibs on your blue sweater." Another tearful laugh, followed by a flower and a tears that dripped down your cheeks.

You sighed softly. "I.....started to see a therapist. I wasn't....right after you left Gwenie. And I did something bad. But I've been working on it." Laying two more roses, you played with the petals of the next one.

"And I wanted to apologize." Here your voice trembled as your raised your eyes to the name that was engraved in the grey stone. "For what I did with Peter, I just.......I was just so lost and sad with you gone Gwenie. And he was just there. He....understood." You shook your head. "And I know that is a lame excuse for what I did, and I know how much you loved him, and I am so so so so sorry Gwenie. I'm so sorry." Aside from the flower you held in your hand, you laid down every last one of them on the ground.

You sat there quietly for a good few minutes before speaking. "I haven't met him or seen him for months now. We finally decided to just sit down and talk. And we agreed that what we were doing wasn't going to help either of us in the long run. So we stopped."

A deep sigh, one that echoed from the very depth of your soul fell from your lips as you tilted your head back and looked to the beautiful blue skies. "I hope you will forgive me Gwenie." You whispered, your head coming back down to press a sweet kiss to the final flower you held.

You stood up, leaning down to set the flower atop the gravestone. Your fingers lingered there, caressing the cold stone lovingly.

"She wouldn't want you to feel that way you know?"

You jumped slightly at the voice, your head whipping around to see Peter standing there with his hands in his coat pockets. He wasn't carrying any flowers, so you guessed that the ones already there were from him. You had suspected that perhaps it had been Mrs Stacy.

Slowly he approached you, so he could stand beside you, his eyes never leaving the headstone. "I remember when her father died and she was grieving. She was just so sad all the time." You nodded, recalling how devastated she had been after Mr. Stacy's death.

"It was actually the first time we slept together." Your turned your gaze towards Peter, lips parted in surprise. Gwen had never told you that. Peter sighed. "She just looked so sad and I couldn't do anything about it and it just happened. She felt guilty afterwards, saying she had taken advantage of me or something like that, but I told her to not even think like that. That I was glad I could comfort her in some way." He finally turned his gaze towards you, a small understanding smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

You swallowed thickly, pushing back the tears as you returned the smile. "Maybe we could comfort each other as well. As friends." You offered, your heart beating fast in your chest. You had missed Peter, had missed your friend. Maybe this was the do-over the both of you needed.

Reaching out, he grasped your hand tightly, prompting you to smile at the gravestone in front of you. The wins blew softly around you, and though you knew it was not possible, as you closed your eyes, you swore you could hear Gwen's hand slipping into your other hand as you stood side by side.

————————–

Your eyes blinked open, eyelashes fluttering as you fought the heaviness of sleep from them. Slowly, you blinked them open, snuggling deeper into your warm blankets.

Only to be made aware of the person sleeping beside you.

The scent that enveloped you could only belong to one person, and you smiled as you snuggled closer to him, feeling his arm wrap around your waist as he pulled you closer in his sleep.

You and Peter had spent months building your friendship once again. The two of you had been one another's rock during some very trying times, and now it had been nearly a year and a half. A year and a half of friendship that had slowly started to shift to become something more.

He had asked you out on a date, wanting to do things properly this time. And though you had been hesitant at first, an accidental mention to Mrs. Stacy had made you say yes, after the older woman had urged you to not let a guy like Peter get away.

Your first date had been a month ago. Your first kiss as a couple had happened a week after. Your first night together had been last night.

It had been the complete opposite of what the two of you had shared all those months ago. Last night had been slow, sweet and loving. Every caress, every kiss, every look had been full of love and trust as the two of you had floated on a cloud of utter bliss and pleasure. And while you had never met one another's eyes previously, this time neither of you had looked away.

This time neither of you slept with your back to the other.

Neither of you left the bed before the other woke.

And as you felt Peter stir awake, saw him smile sleepily at you, his hair all mussed up from the night before, greeting you with a morning kiss, you allowed yourself to feel something you had not felt in a long long time.

Loved.

#tasm! peter parker x y/n #tasm! pater x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader tasm #tasm!peter x y/n

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marksbear · 1 year

Note

Can I please request a Peter Parker x (receiving) male reader blurb based on this post lol

Okay here you go I hope you enjoy it!

PETER PARKER x MALE READER

"Twelve a-clock L/n in coming I repeat Y/n is coming!" Ned warns his friends leaning back on the lockers like hes making way. Peter begins to freak out and makes sure he looks good with MJ.

MJ fixes Peter's hair quickly before giving him a thumbs up. MJ moves to the side with Ned giving Peter some space.

"Hi stranger~" Y/n jokes with his boyfriend leaning on the locker next to him. "H-hey Y/n!" Y/n sees Peter's nervousness and pats his arm lightly. "Peter relax a little. Theres no need to be all nervous. But anyways are we still good for tonight?" Y/n tries to reassure his boyfriend with a smile.

Peter nods his head yes rapidly before saying. "Yeah! Of course were still good for tonight! U-uhm my house or yours?" Peter's own voice betrays him with his face becoming a little red. "Mine. I have no one there besides me and the dogs."

Some of Y/n friends complain to him saying "Y/nn! Lets go!" "Bruhh Y/n talk to your boyfriend later lets go to class!" "Oh my god Y/n." Y/n rolls his eyes at his friends childish acts before leaning down to Peter kissing him deeply.

The innocent kiss was soon taken over by lust making the kiss more heated. Peter softly moans into his boyfriend's mouth wrapping his arms around Y/n shoulders while Y/n holds both sides of Peter's waist as they kiss.

"I swear to god Y/n I'm gonna beat your ass if we're tardy!" One friend says pulling Y/n away from his boyfriend as a trail of saliva follows Y/n from his boyfriend's own lips.

"See you tonight Peter!" Y/n waves his boyfriend bye with a wink before getting dragged away by his friends.

TIMESKIP

Peter was nervous as fuck. This wasn't the first time he has been alone with Y/n at his house, but this time the two had different plans. Usually Y/n and Peter study, watch movies, cuddle, talk and rarely argue.

Peter uses his spare key to Y/n's house and unlocks the door walking in. As soon as he walked in hes greeted by Y/n dogs. After Peter is done playing with the dogs he sets his bags and everything else that's extra on a nearby couch and also takes off his shoes.

"Peter!?" Y/n voice asks from a different room across the house. "I'm in the living room!" Peter answers with a shout. Y/n steps out of his room and walks towards the living room to greet his boyfriend.

The young couple talk and hug for a while until Y/n takes Peter's hands. "Pete. I just wanna double check that you are ready to y'now... Give me head?" Peter had kinda forgotten that was the purpose he was here in the first place. "Yes. I am ready I think I can handle your dick." Peter gives Y/n a trusting smile even though hes scared shitless.

"Okay so what were waiting for." Y/n pulls Peter into his bedroom shutting the door and locking it behind him. The two get into a heated makeout in the middle of the room. Peter runs his hands through Y/n's hair finding a place to keep his hands at griping onto Y/n's hair pulling him deeper in the kiss. As for Y/n he holds onto Peter's waist rubbing his semi-hard member against Peter rock hard boner. Once Y/n was fully hard Peter lets out a gasp pulling away from the makeout looking at Y/n's bulge.

Y/n takes his own shirt off before taking off Peter's throwing them somewhere across the room. Y/n looks at Peter and follows his eyes noticing that hes staring at his crotch. Peter mouth waters and goes to his own pants unbuckling them and pulls down his pants alongside his boxers. Y/n does the same stripping out of his clothes letting his hard spring out. Peter sinks down to his knees looking up at Y/n.

Y/n takes his cock with his hand and gives Peter face a few slaps before getting the hint and opens his mouth wide. Y/n moves his hands to the back of his boyfriend's head and slowly pushes him down onto his cock.

Y/n doesn't fuck his mouth yet letting Peter feel comfortable going his own pace and how deep can he take it. Peter circles the tip with his tongue before licking the cock down to its base before going back to the tip taking the tip in his mouth sucking onto it like his life depended on it. Y/n grips Peter's brown hair tighter pushing him down to the base of his cock. Peter gags and chokes on Y/n cock holding down onto his boyfriend's thigh. Y/n holds Peter down as he fucks Peter's throat. Peter gags and chokes becomes louder as his cries gets replaced by moans as his boyfriend fucks him.

Peter looks his eyes up at Y/n making eye-contact as he sneaks his hand down to his aching cock jerking it off at the same pace Y/n is fucking his throat. Peter loves the feeling of getting used like he was some useless toy.

Peter drool runs down his chin as well as some Y/n's precum. Peter's eyes begin to tear up as some loose tears fall across his face. Y/n lets go of Peter letting him catch a break. Peter throws his head back away from Y/n cock staring at the shiny dick. Y/n takes one of his hands around his cock slapping Peter's face and rubbing his wet member all over his boyfriend's face. Peter pushes Y/n hands away lightly before putting his mouth around Y/n's cock again. Peter bobs his head at a fast pace feeling his own cock twitch in his hands.

Y/n takes a hold of Peter's head again pushing him up and down making Peter choke and moan on his cock. Y/n feels the knot in his stomach tighten and begins to thrust brutally in Peter's throat. Peter doesn't even notice his own orgasm at first since he's so focused on Y/n's cock inside his mouth. Peter came hard all over his hand and some landed on the floor under him. Y/n pushes Peter down to the base of his cock holding him there as he fucks his jaw loose chasing his own orgasm. Y/n throws his head back as he cums deep inside Peter's mouth letting go of his hair. Peter sucked every single drop out of the tip of Y/n's cock before wobbly standing up to Y/n.

Peter with a full mouth tugs on Y/n arms down signaling him to get on the floor. Y/n sinks to his knees looking up at his boyfriend. Peter pushes his thumb inside of Y/n's mouth holding it open. Peter shares one last look with Y/n as Y/n opens his mouth wide before spitting the hot cum he had in his mouth to Y/n.

Y/n waits until Peter spits all of the cum out his mouth before swallowing. Peter stares in awe at Y/n kinda surprised he swallowed it without hesitation. Y/n gets up from his knees kissing Peter's head before mumbling softy against his head.

"We should do that more often."

THE END!

#marvel x male reader #x male reader #male reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x male reader #the bear club

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siriuslyshouldislytherin · 8 months

Text

Two Halves of a Whole

(Part 2)

Pairing : Sirius Black × Potter!reader

Summary : Y/N Euphemia Potter is the younger child to Euphemia and Fleamont Potter. James introduces Y/N to his gang on the very first day of her school. As years pass , Sirius Black , James' best mate starts falling hard for his best mate's sister. Will she feel the same or will it be a one-sided love story ? Read more to find out.

A/N: PS: I am gonna publish this in 10 or so parts spanning over the 7 years of their Hogwarts education. I will post the link to the next part in this part when I publish it. So do check it out.

Warning : mention of bruises , wand being pointed to the reader's neck. Overprotective James , Remus being a brother figure , not much for Peter (coz he betrayed and I hate him. )

Navigation / Part 1 / Part 2

Y/N was awestruck by the beauty of Hogwarts. The Black Lake , the giant doors of Hogwarts , the staircases ; everything was grand and new to her.

A middle-aged lady , most probably a Professor took them inside The Great Hall which had hundreds of candles floating in the air. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky. She passed James and his friends as they all gave her a smile.

The Professor stood on the platform as she unfolded the parchment.

"Now I will call the students and accordingly you have to come and sit on the stool. The sorting hat will sort you into your respective houses. "

Then did she notice the ragged looking Hat perched on the stool.

"Potter , Y/N !" The Professor called out her name. Her heart was thumping loudly in her ribcage as if it would break out of the cage. She climbed on the platform and sat on the stool.

"Witty , very witty. Oh yes creative too , Ravenclaw it seems ! But you have an enormous amount of courage. Alright , better be Gryffindor !"

A very wide grin replaced the frown on her face as someone from Gryffindor yelled ," We got the second Potter too !"

She was finally going to be in the same house as her brother.

She ran towards her brother as they had saved her a seat in advance. James ruffled her hair as he spoke ,"finally in Gryffindor. "

"Yes !" She turned to look at the others.

"Congratulations Y/N !" She heard Remus , Peter and Sirius wish her.

Y/N was walking to her Transfiguration class when she bumped into a certain red-head who had just come out of the class , some other Gryffindor students following her.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going." The (y/h/c) haired girl apologized.

"Oh no , don't bother. I wasn't looking. "

The red-haired girl looked at Y/N and said ,"you are the younger Potter , aren't you ?"

"Yes I am. " At times Y/N wasn't quite pleased by being known as 'younger Potter'. She had the sudden urge to tell the red-haired girl to call her by her name but suppressed it.

"You seem pretty decent as compared to your brother. "

"James. What did he do ?"

"He is an annoying toerag. "

Y/N chuckled at those words as the red-head gave her a smile. She heard a distant voice ," Evans ! Wait there !"

"Oh god ! Your brother. By the way , nice to meet you. See you later. Lily Evans. " The girl gave her a quick handshake and walked away as Y/N chuckled and walked towards the classroom.

"Was that Evans talking to you ?" James asked her.

"Yes. "

"I was calling her ! Why didn't you stop her ?"

"You wanted me to stop her ? Why though ?"

"I want to be friends with her. "

"Good luck with that !" She said in a sing-song voice.

"What did she tell you ?"

"James it would be better if you attend your classes this sincerely. It would do mum-dad a lot of favour. Now don't you have DADA class ?"

She saw Sirius at the door frame watching both of them.

"Sirius. Don't you have your classes ? Off you go ! Both of you. "

"Uh-oh yeahh. I-I will go "

He walked towards James , swinging a hand over his shoulder.

"Let's take you to DADA , Potter. "

They both walked off , as Sirius turned around for a moment , gave her a little 'bye-bye' wave and disappeared into the corridor.

By the time November had started , it was starting to cool down. Students had started to use jumpers to keep themselves warm. Library was the perfect place to study for students like Y/N.

It was past 10 in the night. James was starting to get worried of her , including Sirius , Remus and Peter.

"James. I think we should tell Professor McGonagall. " Remus , the most sensible of the group suggested.

"What if she gets scolded by Professor McGonagall ?" Peter asked the group.

"No Pete. We won't let that happen. I think we should go and search in the castle."

"Sirius is right. We should search in the castle and if to no avail we should report to McGonagall. "

"James let us just check once in the girls dormitory first. "

"How Remus ?"

"Just ask some random girl. "

"Nobody is around. We should go check the girls dormitory ourselves ?"

"What - no ! - hey Evans. "

The red-head turned around.

"Yes Lupin ?"

"We need you to do a favour for us. Can you please go into the girl's dormitory and check whether James' sister is in there ?"

Lily nodded and checked up on the girl's dormitories but Y/N obviously wasn't there.

"Where is she then ?"

"We -"James piped in.

"Oh she left me a note saying she was in the Astronomy tower. I remember that ! You can go Evans. Thank you !"

Sirius muttered an over-excited 'thank-you' as Lily eyed him suspiciously but nevertheless retreated to her dormitory.

Y/N saw the time in the library watch as it read 10.21.

"Merlin ! I've missed the dinner too ! James will be so worried about me !" She quickly put away all her belongings and hurried out of the library.

She was walking towards the Gryffindor common room when she heard someone call her.

"It's so pleasant to see young Miss Potter loitering around this late in the castle , also not to mention , all alone , by herself. "

She heard a girl say , she was undeniably older than her , her curly hair giving her a maniacal look. She was followed by a blonde wizard , almost the same age as her. Behind them were two other boys and a girl.

They started circling her as she stood there unkowing of what to do.

"You know Potter , you should be proud of your pure-blood lineage. Didn't your mother and father teach you that ? I saw you having a conversation with that mud-blood Evans today."

"Bella , how would they teach her such important good Manners ! They themselves are - filthy blood traitors -"

"My mum-dad arent filthy blood traitors ! Don't you dare speak a word against them !"

"Perhaps your brother then - my cousin Sirius has been defying his parents ever since he has befriended your blood-traitor brother. "

She pounced at the curly haired girl and tackled her to the ground.

"Don't you dare speak a word about my family ! I won't -" she was pulled up by a girl who held her by her hair.

"No ! Leave me !" Y/N cried out , tears streaming down her face like a waterfall. The girl's wand pressed into her neck ; that spot of her neck turning blue.

"Y/N !" She heard two familiar voices as she tried to turn her head.

The 4 ran near her as the 5 students retreated. She ran towards James and hugged him around the middle. Sirius' heart did drop at the sight of Bellatrix near Y/N.

I love her like a sister , don't I ?

Sirius tried to shrug the uncanny feeling in his stomach.

"Jamie !" She cried onto his shirt.

"So very touching , Lucius !" She heard the girl advance towards them as she saw Sirius and Remus cover her as James tightened his hold on her stroking her head. Peter too , stood besides Sirius and James a few moments later.

"Fighting your elder cousin , are we ?" The girl looked at Sirius , a glint of craziness in her eyes.

"Bella , if you harm her or corner her or try to make her feel uncomfortable in any possible way , then I will make sure that will be the last day you live on this earth. "

She scoffed and went away with her cronies as the trio turned towards the younger girl who was still in her brother's embrace.

"Niff , Niff look at me !" James said to her. She did as she was told.

"Jamie - Jamie - they insulted mum and dad ! And you too ! " She again broke down into tears as his grip tightened on her.

"James , I think we should go to the common room and discuss things there. "

"Yes , lets get under the cloak and head to common room. Niff , stay between me and Remus. Sirius and Peter follow behind us. "

As soon as they reached the common room , the four boys sat her on the couch , James on one side looking extremely worried , Remus looking mildly less worried , Peter looking even less worried. Technically Sirius was freaked out !

Remus noticed the blue bruise on her neck as she said ," Y/N , what is this blue bruise on your neck ?"

"They held a wand to my neck , Remus. " She said , sniffling.

"What ! Who did that ?" James asked.

"The girl who held me by my hair. "

Sirius clutched his wand and dashed towards the door , only to be stopped by James.

"Where are you off to ?"

"To teach Bella and her cronies a lesson. "

"No ! You are not going to do any of that ! Any of you. "

"Why ? They've harmed you. " Sirius said looking at her.

"They were all 6th or 7th years. They know way more spells than you lot. Besides I don't want McGonagall to reduce house points or give you detention. "

"Niff , but -"

"She's right , James. " Remus spoke.

"We all know how nasty Bellatrix can get. They are 7th years and know how to have a proper wand fight. Not to mention the Dark Arts she knows. If we do anything that would provoke her , she might again corner Y/N someday -"

"We won't let that happen. " Sirius spoke.

"We know that Sirius but just keep you calm and don't let her get to you. "

"Anyways Niff , are you alright ?"

"Yes." She gave her brother a smile as he dropped her off near the stairs of the girl's dormitories.

James turned to Sirius and enveloped him in a hug.

"I will always be there for her. "

"We all will. " Remus too piped it as all the four went in for a group hug.

"Thank you , Remus , Sirius and Peter. "

The banner/divider credits go to @cafekitsune and not me.

Taglist :

@gaminggirlsstuff @dramaisthelifebloodofgoodstories @turvi

#harry potter #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #james & peter & remus & sirius #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #sirius black imagine #sirus black #sirius black and reader #sirius black imagines #james potter #sirius black x potter!reader #potter!reader

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princeescaluswords · 6 months

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Let's Clear This Up

Once and for all, Scott McCall DOES NOT HAVE ISSUES WITH MALE AUTHORITY.

He had issues with the serial killer/con man who turned him into a werewolf against his will and then physically and mentally violated him repeatedly when Scott wouldn't do what Peter wanted.

He had issues with the broody stalker who lied, beat, and betrayed him multiple times in order to force him into a pseudo-family relationship (instead of actually earning it) and then recruiting four other teenagers into an ancient feud when Scott wouldn't do what Derek wanted.

He had issues with the werewolf hunter who tried to run him over with a car and shoved a gun in his face because he tried to date his daughter.

He had issues with the older werewolf hunter who stabbed him in the gut and tried to use Scott to cure his cancer and establish his legacy and then launched a pogrom against Scott and his kind. But Gerard is dead now.

He had issues with his absentee father who threw him down a flight of stairs when drunk and, instead of taking responsibility for his actions, vanished from Scott's life.

Scott got along just fine with his eccentric Coach, even with his outrageous behavior and pointed insults. Scott got along very well with his best friend's father, Sheriff Stilinski, even as they went through some difficult times. Scott got along with Ken Yukimura, his second girlfriend's father, even when Ken's wife was suspicious of him. Scott got along fantastically with his boss, Alan Deaton, who became his close friend and mentor.

With the exception of Rafael McCall, none of those men listed above with whom he had issues could expect to have any authority over Scott unless Scott gave it to them, and he didn't. Rafael McCall abandoned the responsibility that came with that authority. So, no Scott McCall does not have problems with male authority. THEY DID.

I'm just so tired of fandom creating non-existent obligations for characters in order to make it seem that conflicts arose because of mutual behavior. Yes, even when it's humorous because in this fandom, it hasn't stayed humor.

#scott mccall #scott mccall defense squad #fandom problems #peter hale #derek hale #chris argent #gerard argent #coach finstock #ken yukimura #sheriff stilinski #rafael mccall

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princessofroses · 6 months

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Rant

Regulus Black is only excused for being a dumb Wizard Nazi because he's a rich Pure-Blood with a hot fancast. There is no evidence to suggest he was abused, that's fan theory. In fact, it is canon that Walburga and Orion openly preferred Regulus wayyy more than Sirius and made it obvious. Snape on the other hand is a poor Half-Blood, and people insert his golden era personality and slap it onto a fucking 11 year old, it's laughable.

Same with Narcissa Malfoy, she wasn't this timid abused submissive wife, she was canonically described as haughty, elitist and looked as though she had dung under her nose, but just because she didn't give Harry away, people put her on a ridiculous pedestal. People don't realize she only didn't snitch because she cared about her son, if Harry said no, she would've revealed it.

Marauders Stans go nuts for people only mentioned one time lmaoo and get mad if you don't ship Dorlene or Rosekiller (Ex. Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, Mary MacDonald and Evan Rosier, forgive my autistic ass if I forgot someone)

Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr. are not any better than Snape, Avery or Mulciber, the difference is that their names are more appealing than Snape, Avery or Mulciber.

I am sure Sirius was being sarcastic when he said 'The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black' if not, I bet only the Black Family called themselves that shit, I can't imagine Lucius Malfoy agreeing to call them that before he met Narcissa.

'Dwaco Malfwoy was a cwinnamon woll, his daddy abused himmm' uh wut? Oh yes, the boy who could bully his dad into smuggling a broom and persuade his daddy to buy brooms for the entirety of the Slytherin Quidditch Team was a bullied baby boy. ⭐ l o g i c ⭐ But seriously, by taking away the Malfoys selfish love for each other, you are essentially ripping away their only redeeming quality.

Also, I don't think Draco needs a redemption arc, his character is VERY realistic of a coward and that's what makes him compelling as a character. Lots of Nazi Youth never fully redeemed themselves in a full out battle by betraying the SS Officers, Draco is a realistic interpretation of that. Draco is not inherently evil, but he is too much of a coward to take his redemption arc.

Wolfstar Stans are the most annoying motherfuckers to grace this earth.

'Marauders vs Snape rivalry was balanced' okay, so two rich pure-blood Gryffindors (James and Sirius) plus their two cronies (Remus and Peter) vs some random Half-Blood poor slytherin is equal somehow? Only Lily ever stood up for him, Snape's 'friends' did fuck shit about his problems, I don't recall a scene where Lucius Malfoy, Avery or Mulciber stood up against the Marauders for Snape. He quite literally only had one prefect girl standing up for him against four teenage asshats.

Wolfstar and Jegulus don't have chances of happening. James quite literally hates Slytherins, even suggesting he'd leave if he was ever sorted there, and Jegulus is just fanon writers excuse to have Wolfstar happen by making James go after Regulus Black of all people. If Sirius is gay for anyone, it's James. Literally, if it was between James and Remus, Sirius is gonna choose James no matter what, for Remus, if it's between James and Sirius, he's gonna choose James, even Peter would probably choose James. James is the glue of the friendship, if James isn't there during the marauders era, I doubt Sirius, Remus or Peter would have many meaningful outings.

Marauders being feminists is stupid. They are the embodiment of toxic masculinity if you ask me, even Snape is more likely to be a feminist than the Marauders.

Marauders fancasts are goofy as hell, Andrew Garfield looks nothing like Remus, ATJ looks nothing like James, and Dane is most certainly not Peter (He's canonically plus-sized), I personally don't fancast Ben Barnes as Sirius but I can see why others do.

Harry absa-fucking-olutely deserved those house points at the end of philosophers stone, he saved the school from Ian Hart and a british sith lord thought to be dead, it would be an insult not to give him any points.

Bellatrix Lestrange is not a feminist icon. period.

Weasleybashers never read the books, ironically though, it's Ginny, Molly, Percy and Ron that are bashed the most, never the twins, who easily have more reasons to bash them.

I read a Harry Potter Confession Post that I wholehartedly agree with; Mrs. Rowling spent too much time making Narcissa a Malfoy that she forgot she was originally a Black. To be fair, I don't think she was planning on making Cissy and Sirius cousins when she was first introduced in Goblet of Fire, but there isn't much explanation to why she was named after a flower instead of a constellation. Mrs. Rowling makes this mistake to a lesser extent with Walburga Black.

Sirius-Serious jokes stop being funny when they are mentioned every chapter of a fanfic.

#anti-marauders #narcissa malfoy #house of black #bellatrix lestrange #ron weasley #ginny weasley #anti marauders

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aspiring-artist-em · 11 months

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I put this idea into a wolfstar discord server but I felt the need to put this into the world.

I PRESENT...

restaurant au

sirius's pov

server/bartender sirius, new at the job, freshly disowned at like 22 or something. he has a reputation around town for being a bit of an asshole because of his majorly asshole family, and when he's working, he is working, and he makes money because he's young and pretty (not necessarily because he's any good at his job) and some people don't like that. also because of the whole, straight into serving and thrown onto bar because he's friends with james despite no experience. but he's charming and people eventually warm up to him.

line cook remus (with the amount of cigarettes he smokes it only makes sense, also imagine sirius trying to flirt his way to free food and remus being like "lol no", might work with customers but not with me). HIS SCARS ARE FROM A WORKPLACE ACCIDENT FROM WHEN HE WAS LIKE 18 THAT CAUSES CHRONIC PAIN BUT HES SO GOOD AT HIS JOB THE KEEP HIM THERE AND HES BEEN WORKING IN RESTAURANTS SINCE HE WAS 16? ALSO FLEAMONT LOVES HIM.

fleamont owns the place, hence how sirius gets the job in the first place, and like james is a manager because nepotism. sirius and james met in school and were close ever since. james is like, the cool manager who actually listens to the employee and takes their side but does it so kindly that nobody really minds it. everyone loves james. he is the sun.

peter is a busser, (why did i put him as a busser? because they're overworked and underpaid and under appreciated which is how it lowkey went in their friend group, it also puts him in a place of admiration or envy because he wants to be where sirius or remus or james are at, and they don't see why because their jobs are all respectively hard but peter just sees the money BECAUSE BUSSERS ARE NEVER FAIRLY COMPENSATED FOR THEIR WORK (-a server)) he betrays them after effie and fleamont dies and james takes over the business he starts stealing money and stuff and forging checks to the homophobic organization called the death eaters.

lily is the main chef. chef lily. yes chef, please step on me. when remus starts to fall victim to sirius's charm she checks him right then and there and is like "uh no you don't". she yells at james to keep his servers in line because he manages foh and "GOD DAMN IT JAMES WHO THE FUCK RUNG UP THIS TICKET" (it was sirius). i present. chef lily.

marlene is also a server, and so is mary. the two are the work besties when they serve. they always are together, their sections are right next to each other and lily loves them so much because they know how to ring up a ticket. marlene is very popular with the younger crowd and older people love mary. their sections are always next to each other.

dorcas is a host and works to go. the end. she hosts and gets pissed off because her saying "Sirius. I seat in a rotation" and "McKinnon. You've been here for 10 minutes you are not cut." just make sense to me. she can take charge and lead and her manning to go and hosting at the same time makes sense to me.

eventually regulus escapes. he gets a job there and actually was a death eater. i think it would be funny if sirius convinced james to put him in foh to fuck with him, but he doesn't survive one day without threatening a customer (sirius intervenes and smooths it over. not really. there's a brawl in the dining room) and so james puts reg on the lined, where he meets remus and lily.

evan dies. he doesn't make it out of the death eaters. he was at the wrong place at the wrong time and he gets killed by a police officer. barty gets arrested, he goes to the police officers house and tortures him and his wife and gets arrested with other death eaters, even though they weren't gay and were white and straight and everything the group idealized. that's what made regulus run, and that's why pandora ends up taking her life.

tom riddle is a political figure. in the background of everything he is looming and is trying to write homophobic legislation and pass it into law. his followers are the death eaters. dumbledore is another political figure. it's the lesser of two evils.

the blacks are known as important polititians (orion) and a cutthroat lawyer (wally), and they make many donations and publicly announce their support to the death eaters. the potters are known for their monopoly on restaurants in london, with fleamont managing them and effie taking care of the legal part. they're both known to be kind instead of cold.

Anyway.

one time sirius gets absolutely berated, and actually hit by a table because apparently he was flirting with the girlfriend of the man there (he was not)and he acts impassively and just turns around and walks to the back where he starts sits in the walk in. remus comes in because they're all looking for him 10 minutes later because "sirius GET YOUR FOOD". he finds him just sitting blankly and tells him to get his food. when sirius flinches, remus realizes something isn't okay. the closer remus gets the more emotions slip out of sirius until remus is holding him, oh so gently, as the new server, not only a week into his job, breaks into pieces before his eyes. There's an angry red mark on his check and remus knows. Fuck. he knows what happened out there and he should have checked on him when he saw sirius walk past him with that numb expression he sometimes gets before plastering on a smile. fuck fuck fuck. sirius is sobbing and remus doesn't know what to do, he's not good at this, his hands break and ruin and can only create with the guidance of others like lily, and then they can make something divine, but right now there's nobody there and remus doesn't know what to do with sirius fucking black, now practically sitting on his lap as he cries about his brother (he had a brother?) and his mother and god he can hear her. please remus make her stop yelling in my ears. sirius doesn't know what to do and he just sits there, helpless as the tsunami of emotions drown him. he should have never convinced reg to skip swim with him because now he can't breathe and he's gasping for air as tears and snot fill his lungs and mouth and fuck he needs the money. his tables have been neglected for what, 20 minutes? what if he was sat. he needs the money but he can't go out like this, his carefully placed makeup smudged with the heel of his palm. calloused fingers swipe under his eyes and he flinches away and cries and apologized more. scarred hands hold his face and tell him it's okay and there's a noise and talk and maybe that's pete but he can't tell and james is here. james is here. and he's being led to the managers office and god it was so cold in there. he's being told to go home and fuck he's fired. oh but he isn't and the kind scarred man who hasn't left his side, who's rough fingers are interlaced with his, is going to drive him home and he trusts him. he trusts remus lupin.

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blitheringmcgonagall · 1 year

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WHY DID PETER PETTIGREW RESCUE VOLDEMORT WHEN NOBODY ELSE WENT LOOKING FOR HIM?

Just had a great discussion on discord about this.

Firstly, Peter becoming a spy and traitor was completely unexpected. I think we have to remember that Peter in Hogwarts was always a true marauder. Sirius literally says they would have died to protect him - “I would have died! I would have died rather than betray my friends, as we would have done for you!” - He was such a good friend that James trusted him with not just his life, but his wife and baby’s too!!! He wasn’t just some vaguely tolerated sidekick. He risked Azkaban every month to support Remus. He volunteered to join the Order. He was one of them. That’s why I think the story is so tragic. And Yes he was scared. But that doesn’t explain it all. Why did he do it? Maybe because he craved having stronger friends who protected him and made him feel safe and important and popular. We know in school that was the marauders. We know after school, the Order were outnumbered 20 to 1 by the Death Eaters. But it had to be more than that. I have my own theories about why he does it in my canon fic We Can Be Heroes.

But, here’s the thing - WHY DOES PETER PETTIGREW GO TO SUCH LENGTHS TO BRING BACK VOLDEMORT?

He specifically goes on a scary quest to Albania alone to try to find Voldy and bring him back when he was a weak, pathetic, barely alive thing. Something none of Voldemort’s followers do. Why? He’s so fascinating! I don’t think it’s just that he was scared and worried that Voldemort could probably become stronger and was somehow invincible (although there was that).

No.

I think it was more than that.

I think part of him knows he supremely fucked up becoming a traitor, and must have regretted it (given how he dies in canon). But that may have also led him to want to try to get Voldemort back at all costs because then he can convince himself it was worth it - killing James and Lily, blaming Sirius, being a miserable rat for 12 years??

If only he can become Voldemort’s right hand man, and finally, FINALLY win….

Maybe it will all have been worth it… it has to have been worth it, it wasn’t a mistake, the worst mistake ever. It wasn’t…

#Peter pettigrew meta #marauders meta #love these convos #why did he do it #and why did he bring back Voldy?

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bimoonphases · 1 month

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@wolfstarmicrofic March 17 – prompt 17: Incarcerous – word count 776

Incarcerous - Conjures ropes

Sirius had been running for the whole night. He had run so much he was now back in London, amidst the morning crowds of November first. As Padfoot, he was dodging people, making others trip, once even scaring off a tabby cat, but he was still running, snout on the ground, following a specific scent. Then, on a busy street, there it was. The scent he had been following melting into another, both achingly familiar, and a figure hurrying away with his head bent. Sirius transformed back, ignoring the fact that Muggles around could see him.

“WORMTAIL!” he shouted.

People around him hurried past, others shot confused looks a this raised wand, but Sirius was only focused on one man, the one who was now turning around, eyes which had been too familiar for years settling on his. Sirius knew James would have asked why, would have waited to hear it from Peter’s voice. But Sirius wasn’t James. And James wasn’t there. He never would be anywhere anymore, and it was because of Peter. He pointed his wand at his old friend, the one he had shared so many years with. Peter too had his wand at the ready, and before Sirius could do anything, he started screaming.

“Lily and James, Sirius!”

Sirius felt those names said by that voice hit him like a punch.

“Lily and James, Sirius!” Peter screamed again. “How could you?!”

Weirdly, Sirius laughed. He could see now how clever the man that had betrayed his childhood best friend was. The Muggles around were now stopping to look at them, a laughing man and a screaming, trembling one. Oh, that would look good later on, he could see it. Framed and put away with the rest of his awful blood family, as if all those years had never happened. Very clever, really.

“How could you?!” Peter added a sob at the end of his scream, which made Sirius laugh even harder.

“INCARCEROUS! PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!”

Sirius’s laugh was cut short as he fell to the ground, arms and legs bound by ropes. In front of him, Peter too had fallen down, eyes wide and still as a statue.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” a voice said. “Tell me I didn’t waste seven years believing in you.”

Sirius twisted his neck only to see a hand brandishing a wand.

“Not in me,” he whispered. “Never in me, Professor.”

Above him, Minerva McGonagall’s face was unpenetrable, despite her red eyes as if she had just stopped crying.

“Explain yourself,” she said as if he was still a teenager and she had just caught him in the middle of a prank.

“We swapped. It was James’s idea, to swap Secret Keeper,” he said, words tumbling down from his mouth. “We thought they would come after me, but we didn’t know they had gotten to him first. He’s the spy in the Order, Professor, believe me! He’s an Animagus, don’t let him turn into a rat and escape, please!”

“I know,” McGonagall said. “Why do you think I petrified him? Besides,” she moved over to Peter and knelt down. “It’s easier to do this this way.”

Sirius already knew what he would see, but still the Dark Mark appearing on his friend’s forearm made his stomach twist. He saw McGonagall briefly close her eyes before she got back up and moved her wand, making the ropes binding him disappear.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” she said.

“I doubted me too,” Sirius got up. “I was going to kill him, Professor. I was.”

“I understand. But no murder for you, Mr Black. You have a godson to care for now.”

“Harry,” Sirius breathed, the thought of the baby popping into his head shamefully for the first time since the previous night. “Where is he?”

“I brought him to Mr Lupin before tracking you down. Needless to tell you he’s beside himself with grief and worry,” McGonagall said. “You should go to them now, the Aurors will be here soon to take care of all this.”

Sirius nodded.

“Thank you, Professor,” he said, picking up his wand.

“Sirius?”

“Yes?”

Despite her pained expression and her hand still gripping her wand tightly, McGonagall’s eyes were warm.

“I never asked you for anything, but… I think it’s time you settled down now. You have a child to raise, and if my rounds passing the several hidden cupboards in the Hogwarts corridors all those years taught me something, it’s you also have a boyfriend who loves you very much. Do it for them, please.”

“I promise,” Sirius nodded. “We’ll have you over at least once a week for tea,” he added before Disapparating.

#if McGonagall had been there none of this nonsense would have happened #will I write infinite versions of the war where Sirius doesn't end up in Azkaban? yes I will #wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #marauders #minerva mcgonagall #peter pettigrew #padfoot #wormtail #marauders era #first wizarding war #the marauders #the marauders era #just writing (like i'm supposed to live)

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aficionadoenthusiast · 2 years

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anybody else notice how convoluted and honestly bad the Hogwarts housing system is? I've been thinking a lot about it lately, and there are some things that really don't sit right with me.

first, the sorting hat supposedly decides a person's house by which one will bring a person to their greatest potential, whether bad or good being decided by the individual, completely ignoring if a person values happiness over success or vice versa. for example, snape. the man would have done just fine in ravenclaw (and he had the mind for it), and he would have been happier as he wouldn't have fallen in with the death eaters, thereby wouldn't have been influenced into their bloodpurists views, subsequently keeping his friendship with Lily all the while not forming a rivalry with the marauders. this is not to say he wouldn't have found bad influences in racenclaw or wouldn't ever have found himself on the marauders' bad side, but I think we can all agree his social network wouldn't have been nearly as toxic had he been placed in ravenclaw. nevertheless, the sorting hat saw the potential slytherin offered him as a future spy and dumbledore's right hand man, resulting in snape losing all chance of a happy life in which he didn't bully innocent children because they might've saved his obsession's life in another timeline. with that in mind, the marauders would have done incredibly well as slytherins. they were cunning, enough to figure out how to become animagi before they were even halfway through school, without anyone figuring it out (besides McGonagall, i refuse to believe she didn't know). they also created the marauders' map, a stunning mosaic of advanced spellwork and potions. they kept remus' werewolf secret for their whole lives (except for The Prank obviously). they spent countless hours creating pranks specifically designed to screw with people they didn't like. this seems a bit familiar, yes? draco malfoy, goblet of fire, those stupid badges he made about harry and cedric, and then later "weasley is our king" in ootp. now, while the other pranksters of the wizarding world were certainly just as smart and creative in their pranking, there is one important difference. the weasley twins mainly just wanted to cause chaos and a bit of fun in an otherwise boring (at least to them) environment. the marauders and draco often specifically targeted someone or a group of people (*cough* slytherins *cough*) whether obvious or not. while Peter is the outlier in this example, he was not without cunning. he spent a significant part of the war betraying his best friends just to make sure he would come out on top, again, without anyone realizing. the marauders may have been courageous, but I think that their cunning overshadowed their bravery by a long shot, but the sorting hat saw the path Gryffindor offered them: direct ties to the greatest hero known to the wizarding world. the only excuse for these housing mistakes is that the sorting hat is dumbledore's dramatic little weasel.

speaking of the sorting hat, its blood status bias is off the charts. how else can we explain the uneven distribution of purebloods and muggleborns? are there no cunning muggleborns? we know that's not true because of hermione, who also would have been a great candidate for slytherin. also, regulus. I can't imagine he would have done any worse in ravenclaw than he did in slytherin. the biggest reason he was in slytherin was cowardice born from fear of disappointing his parents as his older brother did. this only ruled him out of gryffindor, though, not ravenclaw. however, as the "pure blood" house, the sorting thought it a better fit for him. in slytherin, he suffered, and his cowardice continued to be nurtured along with pureblood ideals until the moment his conflicting character traits went head to head and he died at the tragic age of 18, estranged from his brother and stuck in a war he had no choice but to join but finally having let his conscience win. this is the great potential the sorting hat gave him. if the sorting had ignored his blood status, he could have been a hero of the war alongside his brother, or, more than likely, he would've still died young in a war he had no choice but to join. despite this, the sorting hat placed yet another pureblood in slytherin while keeping other more deserving characters such as Hermione and Remus in gryffindor. yet another example is Neville. he would have done so much better in Hufflepuff where he would have been nurtured instead of mocked. snape wouldn't have hated him as much because of the rivalry. and he would have had better access to the greenhouses with sprout as his head of house. instead, the sorting hat put him in Gryffindor where so many other purebloods had been put before because it is one of the two "main" houses where people are more likely to be noticed.

finally, distribution. there is no way to place people evenly and equally in the houses as first years while still doing justice to their potentials and personalities. if the sorting hat were to give an equal number of students to each house every year, there would absolutely be kids in houses completely unfit for them. this is not a slight against the sorting hat; this is plain fact. there is just no way that each year of students could be evenly distributed between houses. however, if one house gets say 12 students and another gets 2, that isn't fair to each house. the house that gets more students would have more responsibility to keep their kids in line, keep their grades up, stuff like that, but they would have a better chance of winning the house cup (more kids to win house points) and quidditch cup (more kids to choose from with a greater variety of skills). meanwhile, the smaller house could have two super smart kids, bringing up their yearly average, but they would be less likely to win house points, and it would be difficult to be picky about who was on the quidditch team. another danger would be if there was only one kid in a house in one year. the kid would be more isolated and would have a hard time making friends. it would be a very lonely 7 years. beyond that, what if there were no kids sorted into a house in one year? one seventh of house points are lost, and that whole grade loses an entire section of people who are meant to help them develop. either way, equal distribution with bad housing placements or unequal distribution with unfairness, many kids each year suffer.

in conclusion, while funky and fun on paper, the housing system has many flaws, including but not limited to potential prioritized over happiness, obvious bias, and bad distribution management. this is not even accounting for the stereotypes and prejudices that come with each house, yet another mark that people have to live with but get no choice in. it would be far better if the kids were sorted by age with specific interests being available through clubs and allowing kids to choose their roommates as they grow up. however, no system will ever be perfect, but we can at least try to minimize the negative effects kids have to deal with because of a choice they didn't even get to make.

#old

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