𐙚 ROSE. regulus black. aespa. sayeon lee. chiikawa. lip gloss. hoyo games. wuthering waves. hunger games. fanfics. noyz love club. girls. song yuqi. notes of a crocodile. gidle. phantom siita. luna lovegood. and more ♡
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𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲: my boy's an ugly crier, but he's such a pretty liar (and by that, i mean he said he'd change)
regulus buys a fancy chair but he doesn’t want to put it together himself so he finds lupin who tells him to find james
and james agrees bc he’s lowkey indebt to remus for smth
so james is there building this ridiculously complex chair, and losing the instruction sheet every 5 seconds.
regulus js lies on the bed or sofa, and does nothing to help whatsoever, despite it being his chair. he doesn’t talk to james, he doesn’t offer james any snacks, he hardly even acknowledges james’ presence
there’s no grandiose heroic reason why regulus hasn’t left, theoretically he could. all he has to do is gather some money, get his wand, and leave out the doorway
regulus isn’t currently wounded, like sirius was. packing and taking a trunk with him is the easiest thing ever.
there’s nothing physical holding him back.
some nights he’s almost there’s. he’s standing in the threshold.
he breathes in the crisp night air. he thinks of freedom, of the possibilities.
he’s so close.
but he can’t bring himself to leave.
the family is all he knows. and he is nothing without it.
I have a slightlyyyy different opinion on pandora, the idea of her and evan being twins is cute but i also saw someone else write her as an ollivander which i love love love. I think it fits with the hc of her being a seer. (don’t ask me about family trees idk)
personality wise, I don’t think she’ll be all that similar to luna/xenophilius. she cares little for others outside of her friends, and probably assumed she’ll spend her life alone before xeno weaseled in. shes curious and always off doing some experimenting or another, researching ancient magic, inventing spells, dragging regulus into any potions related activities. she can’t sit still if there’s a mystery, and that’s why her cryptic dreams or visions are so frustrating. she gets sick of answering the ravenclaw door’s riddle and either invents something to bypass it or blast her way in.
she’s less of the friend you go to for unwavering support, and more of the one you ask for genuine help. she can provide you a clear path, a goal, motivation, and aid you in your next few steps, but she’s not going to sit there and comfort or sweet talk you for anything dumb you did.
sorting hat lingered a bit between ravenclaw and slytherin, deciding ultimately that her resourcefulness didn’t outweigh her desire for knowledge.
she’s intelligent and good in most subjects except herbology or care of magical creatures which are very hands on (to her dismay). she disinterested in quidditch but has a fondness for art history and portraits.
i think she’s very interested in the dead or dying in general. she finds the ghosts fascinating and could of had a deep interest or a job in the department of mysteries. (we know literally nothing about her sooooo)
as someone in pursuit of knowledge, she wouldn’t be ignorant enough to believe in blood purity, and probably disagrees with her friends’ choices in the war. she’d remain neutral to avoid being heavily involved in any of the conflict.
after losing all of her friends, I think she’ll gradually spiral. her precision and easy confidence fades, she’s no longer as careful in her experiments, and starts to lose interest in everything.
all of which leads to a half-assed backfired spell
i think regulus black is probably a pretentious vindictive little bitch, i can feel the god complex with secret inferiority issues that he tries to bury deeper than the bodies of the ppl he’s killed.
he’s selfish and his priorities will lie with himself. if it was the trolley problem, with 5 innocent people on one path where the train is rapidly heading, and himself on the other, he’s not pulling that lever. if there was 5 innocent people on one path, and one douchebag with many connections in the ministry, he’s not pulling the lever.
maybe there’s good in regulus but it’s buried under layers of silk, survival, and a secret third thing that no ones knows because he doesn’t let anyone get that close.
he can’t handle his mother without sirius, his father retreats further into the background, he can’t handle the family expectations nor the pressure of being heir,
he’s been set up with an engagement, his future is all planned out for him, from his actions tomorrow to the shoes he’ll wear to his wedding.
james convinces him to leave
he paints a picture of a wonderful life after, reconciling with sirius, escaping an unwanted marriage, helping the rest of regulus’s friends, being free to do whatever he pleases,
it’s promising, it’s a life worth living for,
and so regulus runs
and he almost makes it
his hand is on the doorknob when he hears a voice behind him, his mother’s. her tone is one of disappointment, but her hand is steady when she casts a spell.
my boy's an ugly crier, but he's such a pretty liar (and by that, i mean he said he'd change)
ao3 ver, part 1
(3k words, mcd and idk if i want to keep it that way or not)
“Next time, next life, I’ll pick you over everything else.” the knight said, as the pair of cookies laid on a picnic blanket under the dark night and sea of stars. He vowed, next time. He promised.
“Next time, next life, despite everything, I’ll still pick you.” the knight murmured, as he laid in the other cookie’s lap, the world around them crumbling, falling, and twisting horrifically.
Next life, because this one had no place for them.
(or, flashback of a blackbell confession, and a promise unkept)
Black Sapphire Cookie could taste the sickening sweetness of strawberry jam in his mouth, see the color red all over his hands, and feel the tears streaming down his face.
But he couldn’t look, couldn’t process the corpse in front of him. The comets shot past in the dark midnight sky, leaving behind a trail of sparkles. Tonight was supposed to be a good night.
And now, once life, once the love of his life, reduced to cookie crumbs and emptiness. Skin and flesh torn, bone shattered, and eyes closed. Life force extinguished, and utterly, irreversibly, gone.
And Black Sapphire had led him down this path.
(my boy, my boy, my boy)
The two rested on top of a gingham blanket, hands intertwined, staring up at the vast night sky, decorated with a crescent moon and an abundance of brilliant stars twinkling above.
“Do…do you think, in the next life, I’d meet you again?” the knight murmured, the words falling from his lips quietly, yet in the serene silence of the forest, was louder and bolder than anything he’d said before.
The darker haired cookie turned his head towards the other and flashed a charming smile. “Of course.” he replied, his voice full of confidence. “In every lifetime.” His hand then pointed at the sky, at a shooting star furiously burning its way through the atmosphere—falling rapidly and yet, despite its impending death, shined brilliantly. “Make a wish, darling.”
Silverbell closed his eyes, breathing in the cool crisp air, and wished, wished that the next life would be better. Wished that he could embrace Black Sapphire guilt free, wished that they could meet once more.
The restraints holding back the Silver Tree had grown…shakier recently. The knights no longer had as much freedom as the generation before, serving was for a lifetime, and to do any less, to want anything more, was a sin. The knights were required absolute loyalty and devolution. There were no distractions allowed. And yet…
“Next time,” he whispered, “next life I’ll choose you over everything else.”
It was a confession in itself, next life, he wouldn’t choose the honorable path, he wouldn’t want to be a Silver Tree Knight. Next life, he wanted to spend it with Black Sapphire.
Silverbell felt Black Sapphire breath hitch, he’d never been so direct, and they’ve been playing this game of dancing for ages—never getting too close but never daring to stray too far. It had been akin to balancing on a tightrope, Silverbell knew that the other cookie had many more skeletons in the closet, and Black Sapphire should know very well that despite anything said in the heat of the moment, Silverbell would always choose his knightly duties over his personal feelings.
“May I?” the dark haired cookie said, shifting to sitting on the blanket, facing the knight, his hands cupping their cheeks, and he slowly leaned in. He smiled, a smile not of trickery, or mischief, or playfulness. It was genuine, a little soft with a hint of shyness, and incredibly sweet.
Silverbell closed his eyes, “yes,” he murmured.
The kiss was tender, gentle, and filled with warmth. Not rushed, not brimming with heat or anger or desperation. Slow and careful, like testing the waters before lowering yourself in for a swim. Silverbell melted.
Eventually, the knight pulled away, and he knew, he knew he was utterly ruined, because Black Sapphire tasted of the sun and love. A singular taste isn’t enough, isn’t nearly enough. The knight got a glimpse, and he craved for more. And he’ll convince himself another won’t hurt, and that maybe tonight, he can lose his duties, lose the restraints, and live.
“I’ll be gentle for you.” the darker haired cookie quietly said, and that was a confession in itself as well, a vow. To force a wolf into submission is one dangerous task, but the wolf, willingly submitting, is unprecedented, unnatural even, molding itself into the shape of a docile sheep, not to deceive but to be kind for, to soften its sharp teeth. “I love you.”
And there, from Black Sapphire’s lips came the words the two had been shying away from, scared from saying. They felt the same emotions but didn’t dare to label lest everything became too real and too hard to carry on.
“I love you.” Black Sapphire continued, “more than anything I’ve ever loved before. I love you. You have devoured my every waking hour, you have infested my dreams, and you have consumed my mind. You have taken the hollow and shattered pieces of my lonely heart and pieced it whole. You’ve given me peace I am hardly deserving of—you’ve given me respite, and I feel nearly completed. For the first time—I am utterly and fully in love.”
Silverbell felt an arrow stab into his chest he sucked in a breath, the weight of the confession settling on his heart, taking root. Black Sapphire loves him, loves him enough to voice it, he loves him.
But in the back of his mind, there was a little nagging feeling, since the very beginning,
this wouldn’t last. This couldn’t last. His love, or his duties?
“I love you too.” the knight said, staring into amethyst eyes, ‘but my duty comes first.’ remained unsaid.
The other cookie gave a small knowing smile, both of them had duties, both of them could not afford the luxury that was a permanent relationship. This half-baked love story hidden in the secrecy of the night was the only available option, for Black Sapphire had his own homeland to return to, and Silverbell was bound to the Faire Kingdom.
I love you, but…
There was always a but.
The silence felt suffocating.
“It’s okay—every moment I’m not a knight, all of my freetime, it’s yours—if you're willing—“ Silverbell said, before being cut off and engulfed into an all consuming kiss.
“Of course,” Black Sapphire said, eventually pulling away, a smirk crawling up his face as he cupped Silverbell’s cheeks. “Sure, the knights can have you all day, but at night, dear? You’re mine.”
The knight gazed into the other cookie’s eyes, a felt similarly a smile appearing on his own lips.
“What did you wish for, my love?” Black Sapphire said, tucking a silvery strand of Silverbell’s hair behind his ear. His soft fingers tracing the freckles that dotted the knight’s face like constellations.
“Hm..” Silverbell pursed his lips, “I can’t say, otherwise it won’t come true.”
“Don’t you trust me? I hardly count! Tell me, my dear knight, you can’t leave me hanging!” the other cookie dramatically cried.
“This doesn’t change anything, I still don’t trust you.”
A laugh escapes from Black Sapphire’s mouth, loud, unrestrained, and free. “Really now? Come on.”
“Nope, Mr. Journalist. Go beg your boss or whoever your superiors are for attention.”
The other cookie’s lips quirked up into a smile, “Awhh, work talk? Just for a moment, let me be yours.” he said, the words dripping off his tongue sweet as honey. Silverbell can’t help but blush. (Oh for gods sakes! He’s a knight not a bumbling foolish head-over-heels maiden! What happened to dignity?)
Silverbell’s thankful though, thankful they can have this night together, and all those nights in the future before Black Sapphire has to return to work. The knight knows this memory is one he’ll want to hang onto forever, just like those childhood mementos, or a gift from his grandparents, or a particularly happy birthday. He wants to look back onto this memory with fondness, remember this moments, and relish in the love.
‘Black Sapphire looks pretty in the moonlight,’ Silverbell marvels to himself, admiring the other cookie.
“What’s got you all distracted?” The darker haired cookie said, evidently amused in how the faerie jolted back to reality.
Silverbell found the word slipping out of his mouth before he could stop it, “you.”
The other cookie looked delighted, “Nice to know I'm in your head just as much as you consumed my mind.”
“I love you.” The faerie softly whispered, pressing a gentle kiss onto the other’s lips.
“I’ll love you forever,” Black Sapphire promises, and Silverbell holds onto that vow, hoping with everything that it’s true.
(my boy, my boy, my boy, don’t love me like he promised.)
(my boy, my boy, my boy, he ain’t a man and sure as hell ain’t honest)
Black Sapphire felt his heart drop.
He told himself he no longer cared about the faerie cookie knight, he told himself he was over it. The cookie was simply too daft, too stubborn to embrace deceit, and there was nothing Black Sapphire could do. If the damned were content with being damned, then there they shall stay! This had become his new mantra, damned be damned, and yet,
when he saw his silver tree knight, straight in the heat of the battle, he felt fear coursing through his veins.
He told himself he no longer cared. He promised to himself he’ll forget the cookie. He told himself he wouldn’t care for the fate of the cookie.
He lied. He should have known. His body, his life, may be in his master’s hand’s, but his heart would always reside with Silverbell Cookie.
He felt nothing but giddiness earlier, nothing but joy as he and Candy Apple could finally revel in the spoils of their hard work. His master, beautiful, thrashing and crawling, tentacles pulling him from the wicked tree.
His master, shoving aside everything in his path, demolishing cookie houses which had stood for centuries, shattering through shields and silver armor, a force of destruction unlike no other.
Black Sapphire felt nothing but happy, nothing but joy, and ecstasy. He couldn’t care less about the destruction or the strawberry jam splattered on every wall.
“Charge!” He hears the faerie army scream, “Do not fall back! Save your kingdom, fight for your kingdom!”
How futile, Black Sapphire thinks, they should know that there is hardly anything worth resisting, and that they are merely delaying the inevitable.
He doesn’t care, doesn’t care about the damned. The stupid and ignorant will fall, and from those ashes will birth the wiser, the ones who will embrace deceit, the ones who will know better than to reject the kindness and love of Shadow Milk.
Until he sees a tentacle slam into a row of knights.
And he finds his knight lying in a pool of jam and glass.
(my boy’s an ugly crier but he’s such a pretty liar,)
“Silverbell please—just hold on a little longer, my master will save you—”
“No.”
“What? Silverbell this isn’t the time to be difficult, your losing too much strawberry jam, just let me put pressure and we can wait—”
“Your master did this to me. Your master did all of this—” the knight murmured, his less injured hand gesturing to the ruins of the fairie kingdom, the fallen cookies, the jam covering every surface, and the sky a terrifying black, “I do not want your master’s help.”
Black Sapphire gritted his teeth, he’d rebuke his firefly for being so foolish later, right now, his main concern was Silverbell to safety, and to treat the blasted wound. Tears stung his vision and he willed them not to fall.
Pathetic he knew. The old Black Sapphire would have scoffed at such a sight and turned in disgust. But Silverbell had unknowingly sanded down all of the cookie’s sharp edges, and molded him into something softer.
“It’s really okay, love. Don’t bother,” Silverbell softly said, “I…I’m not going to be able to survive this anyway.”
“Don’t say that,” Black Sapphire hardly has time to process the new petname (the first petname) when reality crashes over him, cold and startling. Because, despite every inch of his heart begging, Black Sapphire’s brain knows Silverbell is right.
“You’ve hurt cookies, you’ve hurt so many cookies,” Silverbell softly said, his voice growing weaker, “I should hate you and yet I can’t. I can’t stay away, you have this…magnetic pull, and I can’t help but love you despite everything.”
There is too much jam loss, the knight’s leg is hanging on by a thread, there’s a major gash oozing near his chest, glass shards from being thrown into a window, and his wings are crushed.
Silverbell’s eyes are half closed, and both of them know very well, time is running out.
“Black Sapphire…”
“Stop talking,” the darker haired cookie says, trying to delay the inevitable. As the comets in the sky shot past, Black Sapphire can’t help but think about how tonight was supposed to be a good night.
“Black Sapphire…promise me you’ll change okay?” Silverbell begs, his last words that he’ll ever get to say, and he’s begging Black Sapphire. “Think of everyone who’s going to be hurt by this, the lives lost, the lives that will continue to be lost. This isn’t salvation, Black Sapphire, this is slaughter.”
“Promise me you won't fall into its trap,” the cookie continues, “Promise me.”
Black Sapphire leans down, pressing a soft trembling kiss onto the knight’s strawberry jam covered lips.
“I promise,” he whispers.
And he watches as the light, the shine dims in Silverbell’s eyes, he feels the pulse slow down, slower and slower until he finds himself waiting for the next beat, and it never comes.
Black Sapphire reaches a shaky hand out and closes his knight's eyelids. If he doesn’t look lower, and focuses only on a small portion of Silverbell’s face, the knight looks serene, almost like he’s merely sleeping.
Black Sapphire got everything he wanted, right?
His master is free, the world will soon be under their control, his distractions are gone.
So why does he feel so hollow?
(and by that i mean, he said he’d change)
Black Sapphire sees Silverbell constantly.
He’s the first thought when standing out on a starry knight and the wind is running wildly through the trees, he’s the first thought when the cookie sees anything silver, he’s always present, in the very forefront of Black Sapphire’s mind.
Sometimes, when Black Sapphire is near a library, he swears, for a moment Silverbell is there. Holding up a book, like Sospiri di Romeo and Baci di Giulietta, or Wuthering Chocolate Wafer Heights, and grinning brightly.
He sees him in his dreams as well.
Sometimes happy, sometimes they’re on dates—beaches, opera, carnivals—places they would have gone.
And sometimes, lately, it’s Silverbell is lying in a pool of jam, tears in his eyes, and the same words,
“Please, love. Please. Set them free. They don’t deserve this. They deserve peace.”
“Yes,” he says to dream Silverbell every time, “I will,” he promises.
Then he awakens, and the lie feels suffocating, as if the mere words were a pillow of some sort, pressed down onto his face. It is just simply one more to the pile, yet Black Sapphire feels it weighing down on him, growing heavier and heavier by the day.
He does not set them free. He cannot betray his master. He is bound, by flesh and blood to obey.
The cookies of the fallen faerie kingdom are enslaved, they have elaborate and colorful masks on their face, they’re dressed in splendidly made costumes, and they’re dancing eternally on a stage.
They’re subject to the whims of his master, one day it’s classical ballet where the cookie’s limbs are forced into exceedingly unnatural positions, other days the jester demands a play, Othello Cookie where the faeries have to smother or pierce each other, Orpheus and Eurydice with all the tender true love removed, or Eros and Psyche where Psyche Cookie ends up in love with monster instead of the God of Desire.
“Listen Sapphy, there’s no such thing as love—see here, Othello Cookie kills his so-called love, loser Orpheus fails at the very end, and how can Eros actually love Psyche if he didn’t get pricked by the arrow in the first place! I’m telling you it’s all manufactured, my versions are just soooooo much better.” Shadow Milk says, gleefully admiring the stage and the power he possesses, able to manipulate hundreds, all of the cookies bending to his wills.
Dance! He can say, and they will all dance, because they no longer know how to do anything but blindly listen.
It’s a never ending performance for the theater troupe, and a never ending applause from the audience who cannot feel anything other than class joy.
His master clicks his tongue impatiently, “Little Sapphy, Little Sapphy, what’s gotten into you? We have the world at our beck and call! You're so not fun!” his master berates, “Gloomy, gloomy, lighten up!”
“Yes master,’ Black Sapphire says, obedient and perfect as always.
“Good, everything’s just how you wanted it, right?”
“Of course.” Black Sapphire says, another lie added to the pile. He has never felt worse.
Days pass, nights alone pass, weeks blur into months, and Black Sapphire finds himself forgetting, he finds his memory failing him.
He can no longer remember the exact shade of silver that was his knight’s hair, the particular twinkle in his eyes, the curve of his nose, the dotting of star like freckles, or the way his lips twist up in a smile. He no longer remembers the specific tone of Silverbell’s voice, everything to him feels ever so slightly off.
His dreams are distorted, Dream Silverbell’s emotions are high and violent like the rampaging waves of the sea they never saw together. Dream Silverbell cries, and screams, and yells, and begs.
“Please Black Sapphire, set them free. Please, they don’t deserve this.” Dream Silverbell begs, louder than before, more desperate than before.
“I’m forgetting you,” the darker cookie softly says, “please just let me see your face.”
The words don’t get through Dream Silverbell, Dream Silverbell who has returned to his injured, dying, and covered in berry jam form. “Set them free please—they’re suffering, they’re hurting, give them peace, Black Sapphire.”
And Black Sapphire finds himself waking up, cold and sweating, the waning moon still in the night sky. But now the stars are no longer visible, the dark clouds obscuring them.
He is all alone.
He has never felt so empty.
“Yes,’ Black Sapphire whispers, “I’ll free them soon, I promise, my dear.” Another lie to the pile, another lie, he is made of lies, he is a creature of deception, and how foolish of him to even believe there would be a happily ever after for him.
“I love you,” he murmurs, and there is no one left to reply.
imagining regulus as one of those people who are dressed in like, black coat, black vest, black dress shirt, black pants, etc, and the only color would be red from the christian louboutin shoes.
because in the end, James was always going to go back to Lily. and Regulus is a fool for ever wanting more.
Regulus Black couldn’t help the anger and envy coursing through his veins.
He had always been angry and jealous, beneath his apathetic exterior and under the walls he built, he was filled to the very brim with resentment.
It was unfair how other, stupider, and ignorant children had loving parents, it was unfair how his blood traitor brother could so easily escape the clutches of their family, and it was especially unfair for a pathetic mudblood to receive all of James’ affection.
She hadn’t even wanted it at first, she took his heart, and stomped on it until it was nothing more than mush and jelly, and Regulus had been there to pick up the pieces and rebuild James. Regulus was the one present at the Astronomy Tower the night Lily Evans rejected James again, he’d (admittedly hesitantly) had allowed James to sit down and cry in the cold night wind with him, and he allowed his repressed feelings from first year to return.
And Regulus and James had been happy. Between secret kisses in broomclosets after hours and midnight flying on brooms over the Forbidden Forest, Regulus was in love.
The sun had looked down on him, the sun had embraced him, and after persistence, he had given in to the sun. He had bared his ugly dark soul, and the sun had taken it, and accepted him.
So why, why did she catch feelings?
Why did she want James back?
And why did he go?
Evans could have had anyone, anyone else. She was a brilliant witch, she was well loved, intelligent, brave, and beautiful, and could have had anyone. But she just had to desire the only color in Regulus’ achromatic life.
Despite its secrecy, Regulus thought he and James were exclusive, special even, more than just shag buddies. They never really actually talked, Regulus would make sure to cut James off whenever he tried, so they never labeled themselves. Regulus felt all their actions were like one of someone dating. That it was a relationship. He really thought and believed they were something.
So could you blame his devastation when he found out they were nothing?
Could you blame Regulus for his fury, when he saw Evans and Potter in the library, him holding out a crimson carnation, and she accepting it, twirling the flower in her perfect little fingers, giggling and tucking it behind her ear. He leaned in, whispered something to her in which she tilted her perfect little head and laughed at.
James had been bringing Regulus red carnations for weeks, sometimes fresh in a bouquet, or small dried ones tucked in between the pages of a muggle book he persuaded the pure-blood into reading.
Lily Evans could have every damn flower she wanted in the world, she could have all the marigolds, and lilies, and roses, and dahlias, and tulips. Everything but red carnations.
Sure, Regulus could have tried to reduce all of this to James just wanting to be friends with Evans now, he could have told himself that he had no right to force James to ignore his ex-crushes, and he could have chalked everything up to something normal and innocent.
Until he saw that look in Potter’s eyes.
Warm, longing, and love.
Sure, James had given Regulus warmth, he’d been supportive, he’d been caring and sweet and so on, but Regulus couldn’t be sure if it was truly love in his eyes when he looked at him, or lust. And the love James felt for Evans surpassed whatever miniscule amount he had for Regulus.
Did James ever even cared for Regulus? Or was he just a replacement for Evans. Another person with a prickly personality that Potter could chase after?
Regulus had been desperate to believe that he did, that he does.
Until, from his spot hidden behind a bookshelf after Evans had left, he saw Sirius approaching James.
“I got to say, Prongs, you might actually have a chance this time,” Sirius said, slinging his arm around James’ shoulders, “She didn’t hex your bollocks off the second you opened your mouth!”
James smiled, “Yeah, progress mate, progress.”
“I knew you’d come crawling back. What happened to all that stuff about being over her, huh? Back to your lovesick ways, red carnations for Evans, eh? Not something like lilies or roses? More romantic?”
“They’re nice flowers!” James said, protesting.
‘No,’ Regulus wanted to say, ‘They’re horrible, horrible, disgusting flowers.”
But he didn’t. And he didn’t want to hear any more of this damn conversation. And he didn’t want to be Potter’s weekend lover.
Regulus had managed to avoid James for nearly two weeks, he surrounded himself with people, Barty, Evan, Snape, and even Avery. People that James would never dare walk up and try to talk to Regulus around.
He had been quite successful in making sure he wasn’t alone, until one evening where he had been called by Slughorn to discuss his ah, yes, once in a lifetime brilliance and unmatched peerless talent in Potions. Regulus had been walking back to the common room, and then was unfortunately (or fortunately) cornered by Potter.
“Why are you avoiding me?” Potter asked, in a tone as if he was entitled to an answer or explanation.
Regulus didn’t reply, choosing to look at the floor.
“What did I do wrong?” Potter asked, in a hurt tone. How dare- how dare he be hurt. How utterly repulsive of him to come up to Regulus and act like he hasn’t spent the past two weeks giving Evans a flower nearly every other day, how dare he act like he’s the one deserving of an apology, and acting so, so innocent.
“Let’s stop seeing each other."
The words came out of Regulus’ mouth, strange and monotone.
“What?”
“Let’s stop seeing each other.” Regulus simply repeated, pushing his way out of Potter’s grasp that had slackened, and resumed walking.
James had the gall to look astonished. “Reg-I don’t understand-” he said desperately, his hand reaching out to catch nothing but air. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Regulus wanted to fold. He wanted to cry and collapse, he wanted to scream about how utterly unfair it was, and how much he hated James for doing this to him. For giving him the sun, and then taking it back to give to someone else, and pretending that’s fine.
Because the sun was all he had. Regulus didn’t have the stars or the moon, all he had was the warmth from the sun.
But he didn’t. Because James may have taken his love, his mind, and his heart, but Regulus would rather be damned than let Potter take his dignity as well.
“I don’t ever want to see you again.” He said, his voice cold.
(Lies, he knew, he wished nothing more than to confide in James, and James would tell him that it's all a joke and he doesn’t care about Evans anymore, and that he was only humoring her.)
But Regulus couldn’t stand being secondary.
and before he left the library that horrid day, he’d heard Sirius continuing to chat with James. Unaware and foolishly.
“You really love her don’t you, mate?” Sirius said, his tone light.
regulus reads classic gothic victorian novels, dystopian literature, and deeply disturbing ones that will have you questioning humanity, (and in private, the cutest romance stories bc yk, he probably wants to be loved like that one day) reads shit like wuthering heights, lolita, carmilla, the picture of dorian gray, never let me go, etc
pandora is math and science ravenclaw not literature and arts ravenclaw. only thing she reads for fun are scientific journals or some book containing the most gruesome blood magic ever.
evan rarely reads anything not assigned or a textbook, but for the purpose of being nonchalant and mysterious, he would definitely swipe a book from reg and pretend to have read it. (wuthering heights? its about heights that wuther, no?)
you will never see barty holding a book or ever reading one, but somehow he knows everything and anything, and is able to tell you the entire plot and the most minuscule of details. (anywhere from little women to the grapes of wrath to a magical girl retires. he knows everything.)
dorcas my loveee, she dabbles in a bit of everything but enjoys books like 7 husbands of evelyn hugo, pride and prejudice, or ill give you the sun.
“What kind of dog are you? Disobedient and doesn’t listen to orders,” he muttered, tracing over the scars left on Barty’s skin from previous duels—when they were younger and foolish enough to pick fights with those outside of their capabilities.
After a hum of deliberation, “Yours?” was Barty’s reply as he smiled coyly.
(or, barty picks a fight w avery, and regulus patches him up)
If there was one thing Regulus found admirable in Barty, it was his ability to squeeze himself in conversations that did not concern him, shift the focus entirely, and beat the other party up.
He and Regulus sat at a small table (well, Regulus sat in a chair, Barty sat on the god damn table like an uncultured swine), in the corner of the library, far away from the bright lamps that felt like it was searing into Regulus’ head, and far away from prying eyes. In front of him was a thick stack of books waiting to be checked out, all material and notes in preparation for the upcoming finals. Barty was, as per usual, slacking off, (god knows how he managed the twelve owls. Regulus would love to open him up and study his brain)
“What are you so worried about, Princess?” Barty asked, in a false sickening sweet concerned tone as he fiddled and played around with his wand, sneaking sending a first year’s quill flying across the library, “Mummy Dearest up your ass about exam grades?”
“When is she not?” Regulus said, annoyance creeping into his tone as he opened a thick dusty textbook regarding transfiguration. (blasted subject, but Blacks do not get lower than a perfect score in any subject), he had so much better things to do but finals but alas.
And for a few minutes, there was nothing but the comfortable sound of pages turning and Barty humming.
“Black.”
Regulus looked up, meeting the eyes of…
“Avery.” he said in acknowledgement, his voice still and monotone despite the slight irritation crossing over him once more. If only Evan could walk here a little damn faster, they could check out the books and leave.. They’d planned to meet immediately after the final class, yet he was already running ten minutes past the agreed time. Punctuality was supposed to be ingrained into both of the Rosiers and Blacks, yet Evan always had no regard for time management.
The other boy sneered, a look of mild contempt crossing his face (honestly, you’d think being in the upper echelon of the wixen society would motivate you to properly school your expressions..)
Regulus on the other hand, minded his facial expressions, and after a moment of silence, asked, “Well? What do you need?”
“I saw you talking with the blood traitor earlier,” Avery announced. “Awfully friendly, you two seemed to be.”
The words struck Regulus immediately, sending a small sense of panic through him—if his mother found out—no—if anyone else had seen them—he fought to keep all emotions off of his face. He felt Barty shift on the table, finally looking up from balancing playing cards.
“Really now?” Regulus said, staring into Avery’s eyes, as if daring him to continue speaking.
He’d just had somewhat of a reconciliation with Sirius, he wasn’t about to let an Avery ruin everything.
Barty lazily balanced another card to form the house, he crossed his legs (still on the table, still mannerless but he made it look handsome in his own barbaric way), “You sure? I dunno, Avery, vision isn’t exactly your strong suit.” he said, referencing a quidditch tryout at the beginning of the year where Avery tried for seeker and missed the damn snitch when it was two feet away from him. “Might have been Potter, you know. Or Lupin.”
The snitch was caught with ease by Regulus, who had basically been on the other side of the field moments prior.
Regulus hadn’t told anyone about making up with Sirius, Barty had no idea what was going on, he just loved to get on people’s nerves and would never resist a chance to piss off Avery.
Avery grit his teeth, and doubled down instead of, perhaps, choosing the smarter route of not attempting to blackmail a Black.
“My eyesight is perfectly fine, Crouch. Mind your own business” Avery said, “In fact—it's good enough to see the two little Black brothers hugging. Tell me, does anyone know about your sweet new patched up relationship? I think your cousins will be pleased.”
And there it was, finally at last, the threat. A seemingly very feasible threat too, Regulus knew very well that Bellatrix wouldn’t hesitate for a single second to throw him to the wolves. Family loyalty be damned, she loved nothing more than conflict and sucking up to his mother. Narcissa..she would be pleased, perhaps not in public and certainly not in front of their family, but she’d always been kinder privately. In their twisted family, the only other person still on the tree that Regulus can stand was her.
But regardless, Bellatrix.
It was such a shame, if only Avery wasn’t such a whore and went around attempting to create bastards at every turn, the blackmail might have worked.
“Yes, I’m sure Bella and Cissy would be thrilled. I’m also sure your mother would be thrilled to find out you’ve been getting close with every other woman than the one you're engaged to.” Regulus said, tilting his head as an almost coyly as a small smile graced his face. Behind him, he could hear Barty snicker.
It was slightly amusing to see Avery flush crimson from the realization, then turn panicked once understanding that he no longer had the upper hand, (as if he’d ever had the upper hand in the first place.)
Honestly, Avery was a right fool for even trying. Bellatrix might squeal resulting in.. a variety of consequences, none pleasant, but a careful word or two from Regulus at the dinner table would send Avery and his family falling at least five steps down the social ladder minimum, let alone the fact that the git had already bribed off a few wixen from keeping the produced fetus.
“Uh oh~Avy’s in a bind, eh?” Barty said, his voice light and mocking, he was seemingly taking great pleasure at the entire interaction. “What are you going to do? I don’t think you can solve this like you usually do, Reggie doesn’t need money nor want your prick up his ass.”
“Shut your mouth.” Avery snapped, his hands clenched, “Stay out of this, Crouch.”
Which was obviously the wrong thing to say, there was nothing more than being told “no” Barty loved, other than ignoring said person and continuing with whatever heinous atrocities he wanted to do.
“What to do, What to do..I don’t think He would want his followers going around piping every warm body. How many little halfblood babies have you created so far?” Barty continued.
He, it was always about the Dark Lord now, and Regulus knew that approval was what Avery seeked the most. Desperation practically dripped all over from his under the layer of faux confidence and bruised ego. He craved to be accepted into the ranks after his older sister had run off to marry a mudblood, and he knew he and his family had to pay the price allowing such a mishap to occur.
It was a shame desperation had led him to believe the best idea was to attempt to intimate Regulus Black. A good word could allow him to walk in with open arms and minimum doubts (who would dare insinuate that someone personally recommended by the Black family would be wrong?)
A bad word?
The best case would be if Avery was left alive, with his limbs attached.
“Shut up, Crouch,” Avery spat, “It’s a shame your sister’s illness didn’t pass onto you—Black should hold your leash a little tighter, there’s been quite a lot of talk about you associating with mudbloods and filth.”
Honestly, it seemed Avery had a death wish today.
The loss of Barty’s younger sister took away the last bit of restraint he had, and his father had delivered the news with the usual cruel and cold efficiency of a man who has long forsaken his family--a simple letter consisting of no more than two sentences. She was eight, not old enough to attend Hogwarts, and only beginning to have a few accidental magical outbursts.
Regulus remembers the autumn of their fourth year, he remembers Barty receiving a letter, he remembers Barty crumbling at the Great Hall, he remembers sobbing in the middle of the night, and Barty refusing to leave the dorm. Regulus remembers picking up the broken parts of Barty and trying his best to fit all the pieces together. He never was the same again, despite Regulus and Evan’s best efforts. There was no fixing a puzzle missing a corner piece, all you could really do was arrange the rest and hope the flaws go unnoticed.
The air tinged with sparks as Barty ripped out his wand with a feverish mania, and a small cutting spell made its way on the other boy’s cheek, spraying crimson on the table. Quite a tame spell, Regulus was more surprised Barty didn’t go for something more violent, chaotic, or flashy to start.
However, sensing things were unfortunately going to end up messy once more, he cast a quick silencing spell and an notice-me-not charm so they wouldn’t get kicked out of the library.
“You’re going to regret that!” Avery yelled, a hand clutching his bleeding cheek, and another shoved down his robes for his wand.
Regulus sighed, pondering if he should lower the silencing spell and just let the vulture discover them. He could always just pay some third year to swap places with him to scrub caldrons. (Blacks do not do manual labor, another thing his mother often said, Blacks do not lower themselves to the duties of the common.)
Besides, a duel in the library? How tasteless.
“Barty.” Regulus finally said, “Let him breathe.” He spoke in a casual tone, not looking up and only flipping to another page in his book.
A look of mild annoyance crossed Barty’s face, he let out a dramatic huff before releasing Avery’s neck and dropping him to the ground, he dusted his hands, turned around, and returned to the darker haired boy’s side with a pout on his face.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Regulus murmured, glancing up, “A little longer and he would have needed a healer, do you know how exhausting it’ll be convincing Slughorn to not expel you?”
“You never let me have any fun,” Barty whined.
“You don’t listen to me.”
“Hey! at least he’s not disfigured? That’s listening, no?”
“Lets leave the books here. Evan can check them out.” Regulus said, standing up from his chair and preparing to leave. He undone the silencing spell, gathered his belongings, and paused before walking off.
Soon enough, once the charms were lifted, Muliciber, Snape, and the rest of the boot licking wannabe Death Eaters came scrambling over. They hovered uncertainly between the bookshelves and Avery, unsure if they could approach without getting hexed into next week.
“Control your dog, Black,” Someone hissed, looking down at the damage Barty did.
To his credit, the insult slid right off of Barty, who seemed amused, “Woof?”
Regulus resisted the temptation to sigh again. (Any sound not a word that came out of your mouth was unbecoming, instilled in his brain, courtesy of his mother.)
“Avery,” he called instead.
The body lying on the ground flinched and raised it’s head, Regulus saw fear in its eyes and couldn’t help but let a smirk crawl up on his face.
Fear, terror, dread. Exactly how it should be. It must have been way too long that everyone forgot how to fear the Blacks. Avery grew cocky, he grew bold and flew too close to the sun.
“Mind your manners when talking to your superiors. Red doesn’t look good on you.”
And with that, he strolled out of the library, (with Barty on his heels of course).
“How many times have I told you to stop picking fights?” Regulus sighed, as they fell back into their routine of Barty dueling someone, getting injured, and Regulus having to patch him up.
Barty let a grin crawl up his face while he ripped his tie off, quickly unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off and revealing a few shallow cuts that Avery had managed to be successful to land. “Too many?”
Regulus appraised the damage for a moment, and was appreciative that it was a lot less than expected, (once Barty’s arm had been barely holding on, and they definitely could not go to Pomfrey because Barty’s imbecile ass started the fight, and his father would be notified.)
Getting to work, he disinfected the wound and performed a simple healing charm which neatly sewed the skin back together. At the beginning, Barty would hiss in pain when the alcohol dug into his flesh and the charms pulled at his skin.
Not anymore, they were beyond that. As the years passed, small cuts turned into dozen, dozen turned into tens, and grew bigger and bigger until there was always a risk of passing from too much blood loss. Regulus had grown used to it (he was too old to be repulsed by blood) , and Barty acted like the pain pleased him instead.
“What kind of dog are you? Disobedient and doesn’t listen to orders,” he muttered, tracing over the scars left on Barty’s skin from previous duels—when they were younger and foolish enough to pick fights with those outside of their capabilities. .
After a hum of deliberation, “Yours?” was Barty’s reply as he smiled coyly.
Proper mannerisms be damned, Regulus sighed, “Stop it, you always end up hurt and I’ll be the one having to heal you.”
“But that’s half the fun, no?”
Regulus’ hand drifted from Barty’s arms to his chest, feeling for the melody of his heartbeat. Something he did every time, the end of their fight-heal routine that reassured him Barty was fine.
“Tell me, my darling,” The darker cookie sweetly said, “Your duty or your love? If you couldn’t have both.” ‘Them or Me?’ he meant but did not say, ‘Which do you care about more?” was the underlying meaning.
The knight responded by pressing a kiss up to the other’s lips. “Right now, you.”
(or blackbell meet, make out, and break up)
Silverbell Cookie was raised to serve. His family had all been loyal and devoted guardians of the Silver Tree. He’d been told ever since he was a little dough ball that someday, it’d be his honor to protect the tree as well. By protecting the tree, he’d be protecting the Fairy Kingdom, and serving all the cookies.
And he wanted it. He fully believed in his duty and devotion. Silverbell Cookie had the best job in the world.
Then he met a strange cookie, cloaked in disguise and mischief, with tempting words of both lies and half truths, and a beautiful smile that illuminated Silverbell’s day.
“Who are you?” Silverbell demanded, he’d realized halfway on his route home, that he was being followed. He’d then led the mysterious stranger on a full loop through the kingdom to confirm, and then into the forest where Silverbell then promptly vanished and appeared behind the figure with his bow drawn.
In front of him..stood a grape merchant? It was a strange cookie, someone he’d never seen before, dark purple hair, wearing an apron, and carrying a basket of black sapphire grapes.
The stranger blinked owlishly for a moment, before a sly smile crept up on their face. “What a perceptive little cookie,” they said, their voice smooth and with a hint of mischief.
“I am a Silver Tree Knight and I command you to answer me.”
“Well, Sir Tree Knight, I’m but a humble merchant.”
Silverbell’s expression hardened, “And why are you following me?”
The mysterious merchant innocently tilted their head, “To offer you grapes?” they said, holding a bunch up from their basket, and to their credit, the grapes were glistening, fresh, and shiny, quite tempting after the long shift Silverbell had just recently gotten off from.
“Huh?” he said.
The mysterious merchant seemed entirely unbothered, as if they hadn’t just said the most absurd thing ever. Who follows a knight around an entire kingdom and into a forest to offer fruit? The merchant walked towards Silverbell, causing him to tighten his hold on his bow, ready to fire at the slightest hint of something amiss.
However, they stopped a meter away from the tip of Silverbell’s arrow, and gently placed the basket of grapes onto the grassy woodland floor.
“For you, my dashing knight.” the merchant said, coyly turning around to face away, before placing their hand up to their mouth and—blowing a kiss?
Just as suddenly, in a flip of a card, the merchant vanished and left Silverbell all alone.
In the forest, with a basket of suspicious grapes sitting in front of him.
And over the next few weeks, the mysterious merchant was everywhere. They eventually introduced themselves as Black Sapphire and had apparently taken a habit of donning disguises, such as a wizard, and popping up spontaneously wherever Silverbell was.
And somehow, Silverbell found himself straying, he found himself growing closer to the mysterious cookie. He found himself wanting to know more, he found himself intrigued to what laid beyond the layers, he found himself not reporting the stranger to any authority, he found himself in conversation and he found himself with a friend.
Mysterious yet charming, close by every day and yet still distant. Silverbell found himself interested and delighted.
“Won’t you grant me the honor of getting closer, darling?” Black Sapphire sweetly said, tilting his head slightly and flashing his most radiant smile.
Silverbell took all of his strength to not fold over, he was a knight for witches’ sake! He should have more willpower than this! “Back away..” he eventually said, his voice less certain and confident than he had hoped for. “You’re not allowed to be this close to the Silver Tree.”
“Ah—ah, maybe it’s not the tree I’m here for then?”
“What do you keep talking to me for? What do you want?” Silverbell said.
The darker cookie smiled, “Why do you keep indulging me?”
“I…wait you didn’t answer me-”
Black Sapphire sighed, “Well, if you must know, I’m just a simple little cookie who you’ve saved before in the past, I didn’t expect you to remember me nor did I expect you to be so gorgeous to remain in my mind for all these years.”
“Huh?” Silverbell blankly said, then the words caught up to him and he blushed instantly, “I saved you?”
“Yes, darling,” the darker haired cookie murmured, “So give me a chance won’t you?”
“Heard through the grapevine, a certain faerie wanted to see me again.” A familiar voice said, shaking Silverbell out of his thoughts. He turned around and saw someone unfamiliar.
“Missed me?” the stranger said, and Silverbell recognized the voice.
“Black Sapphire? This…is this what you really look like?”
“I said I’d show you, didn’t I, Firefly?”
Silverbell couldn’t help but find himself enthralled in Black Sapphire’s true appearance. Grayish purple skin, fluffy obsidian hair, sharp canine-like white fangs emphasized by his smirk, and dressed in a well-tailored black suit.
“You’re staring darling.” Black Sapphire Cookie said. “Might want to close that jaw.”
(I say it like a habit…that we won't work out in the end)
“What are you doing here? This is a restricted area.” Silverbell said, recognition dawning on him.
The figure shot up, likely not having expected anyone else nor heard the faerie knight approaching.
“Oh darling—you know me, always stumbling in forbidden areas.” Black Sapphire light heartedly said, “Was just a little curious about White Lily Cookie.”
“This place isn’t open to non knights and unauthorized personnel. Visitors must remain outside.” Silverbell said, then, noticing the open books and papers scattered on the desk behind Black Sapphire, pieces seemed to click in place.
Forbidden places. Silver Tree, the Seal, A Silver Tree Knight. White Lily Cookie. An outsider with too much curiosity and strange powers.
“I think it’s time you answered me,” Silverbell slowly spoke, “Who are you? You don’t exist in the public registry. No one around the kingdom knows you.”
Black Sapphire didn’t answer.
“Did I really save you from a pomegranate snake attack in the past?”
“You lied—you lied to me and I cant—forgive you right now,” Silverbell said, in between kisses, he’s furious, he's upset, and he’s feeling way too good to stop.
Good Lord, his tongue.
Instead of verbal apologies, Black Sapphire merely runs his hand along Silverbell’s cheekbones, tilting his chin up to press their lips into a new angle. It's electric and Silverbell can’t help but lean further into the embrace. His own hands find themselves draped around the other cookie’s shoulder, then his fingers digging manically into Black Sapphire's hair on his scalp and pushing him closer.
“Why did you just tell me?” he gasped when they broke free, “You being a journalist from a different kingdom wouldn’t be an issue-you didn’t have to lie to me.”
Silverbell wants to never see Black Sapphire again, he wants Black Sapphire to stop it with the mind games and leave him the fuck alone, and yet, Silverbell wants Black Sapphire closer. He wants to feel the warmth of Black Sapphire hand’s all over him, he wants to feel the softness of his lips,
“We—we can’t do this here—not in White Lily Cookie’s house—” he said, as Black Sapphire pushed him against a wall.
“So good darling, you're so good,” Black Sapphire murmured, “How could I possibly stop myself?”
They sink into embrace again, this time sinking onto the floor, they’re positioning switches-with Black Sapphire sitting against the wall, and Silverbell settled on top of him, his legs on either side of Black Sapphire.
The darker cookie’s hand finds their way down from Silverbell’s neck to his back, and to pushing into his thigh, causing the other cookie’s breath to hitch.
Even through his knight attire and Black Sapphire’s tailored suit pants, Silverbell can feel both his own heat and Black Sapphire’s hardness.
He feels the warmth build up inside of him, crawling up his leg and pooling in his abdomen. Silverbell needs movement, and sinks down further onto Black Sapphire, causing the other to suck in a harsh breath, and thrust back.
“Darling—darling let me touch you,” Black Sapphire says, words tumbling out of his mouth, as soon as they break free, “I’ll make you feel good, okay?”
Silverbell leans forward, eager for another taste, pressing their lips back together in a deep addictive kiss. “Yeah—yes please—“
It’s filthy, repulsive, and utterly sinful yet Silverbell can’t bring himself to stop. His duties and responsibilities as a knight have flown completely out of the window, and the only thing encapsulating his mind is Black Sapphire.
(Even if it's a vain dream, just a little longer, stay like this)
“Move—now please—”
“You are so demanding, my dear.” Black Sapphire murmured, he couldn’t help but sink his teeth into the nape of Silverbell’s neck, eliciting a gasp out of him. “but, just demanding enough for me to listen.”
(As if there's no such thing as tomorrow)
The darker cookie dips his hands into the knight’s pants, slender fingers crawling down his inner thigh and—
“Silverbell! Silverbell Cookie, where are you??” a sweet melodic voice called out, shaking the knight from his hazy mind.
Black Sapphire hummed a sound of disapproval, “Real charismatic of you to say another cookie name while on top of me, darling.”
“Stop!” the knight gasped, hurriedly pulling away from the other cookie, “I have to attend a meeting today—I forgot—”
Black Sapphire sank his lips back into the nape of Silverbell’s neck, and a noise of displeasure slipped out when the knight pulled away once more.
“I’m so sorry—I really have to go!” the lighter haired cookie said, frantically rearranging his clothing and smoothing out his hair.
“Fine fine, make it up to me later, won’t you, dear?” Black Sapphire pursed his hips and let out a dramatic huff as the knight darted out of the house without even sparing a second glance back. “Now what am I going to do with you?” he said, looking down on his aching black sapphire grape.
“You seem..distracted.” Elder Faerie said, looking down onto the young knight.
Silverbell blushed, “Apologies, your Majesty.”
“Take care to make sure this is not becoming an issue. Your duty as a Silver Tree Knight should always come first and foremost.” The older cookie sternly said.
“Yes, your Majesty. This one will not let this happen again.”
“Good. Remember, in a split second, everything can change. You are to remain forever on guard.”
“Yes, your Majesty."
Alone finally-within the privacy of his prepaid room in the inn, Black Sapphire couldn’t help but let out a shudder.
He’d been close, so close, before they had to pull apart. Honestly just a few more seconds and he might have spilled over the edge. The threat of being discovered was thrilling, yet he was a little peeved to be actually interrupted.
Now he couldn’t help but reach his hand lower, rough and unapologetic, and imagine—imagine it was his Silverling.
Silverbell’s hands all over him, touching him, finger dragging lower, caressing him, whispering sweet words, moving faster and faster until—
Black Sapphire eyes rolled back and he felt nothing but a blissful white.
Silverbell didn’t mean it, Black Sapphire assures himself, his Silverling's too sweet, too kind to hold a grudge or be mad at him for long. Soon enough, with a few flowers and a box of sweets, he's confident he can get Silverbell to fold and forgive him. What good tv drama doesn’t have ups and downs in the main character’s relationship anyway? Conflict makes everything more entertaining.
He probably was just a little bit upset about being approached on false pretenses, but come on, his Silvering? Honestly, the kiss marks were proof enough that Black Sapphire had been forgiven. And the little rendezvous in White Lily’s House?
His firefly would come back crawling soon enough, especially after getting a taste of what Black Sapphire could offer.
“Silverling darling, come on let’s pick up where we left off.” Black Sapphire teasingly said, stepping closer in an attempt to close the growing distance.
Seeing him so carefree infuriates Silverbell, he can feel the irritation bubbling up and the anger returning once more. After..after the battle and the beast was locked back in the tree, Silverbell was finally granted a moment of respite and peace. He returned to his dorm in the knight’s quarters only to discover a liar in his room.
“No,” he says, “You don’t get to do that.”
His voice is cold, distant, and lined with a silent fury. A side of him he didn’t let Black Sapphire see often, but tonight, the house of cards has fallen already. And in order to clean up, he has to knock down the final card
Silverbell’s covered in berry jam, he’s devastated over the loss of Elder Fairy, his fellow cookies, and he’s so exhausted.
“Dear, come on, you know how much I love you.” Black Sapphire says, an easy grin crossing over his face, “didn’t you feel my heartbeat the other night? It was racing for you. ” he stepped closer, gently cupping Silverbell's cheek.
Silverbell stares at him blankly for a moment. He feels this entire situation, for the lack of a better word, is absurd and so so stupid. He pulls away from the touch. “I told you I won’t be able to forgive you a second time. You deceived me and you don’t feel a hint of remorse.”
“Come on, Fairy? Right now, god I’m half hard from you’re ‘strict uptight knight voice’, can’t we have a bit of fun before you give me a lecture on morals and ethics?”
“You tricked me.”
Black Sapphire gives a shrug, “So? You were fine with everything until a few seconds ago?”
“You—you tried to kill us all. So many cookies—so many cookies were hurt and crumbled. And you helped orchestrate it, Elder Faerie is dead,” Silverbell says, his voice cracking.
“Come on, can’t we have separate work and personal lives?”
“Did you hear me? Elder Faerie is dead.”
“You know I love you, darling. Come on, let's not think about such things, alright?”
“No.”
“Hm?”
Silverbell could feel the anger boiling in his veins, because how could he say that? Now? After all this? That Black Sapphire Cookie loved him? “No, I’m not sure you do. I don’t think you love me. And I’m not sure if I know you at all.”
“Darling, what are you saying”
“You’re a pathetic and cruel excuse of a cookie. You’ve let me go on to believe that you love me, but all this time you cared for nothing but your wonderfully twisted little master.”
Black Sapphire tilted his head coquettishly, “Really now?”
The knight continued, “You asked me if I’d pick you or my duty, but you’ve never once considered me over your own obligation. You’re absolutely vile. And I’ve been stupid to believe you were anything other than a threat. Tell me-that day you saved me—was that orchestrated by you too? Did you set the cakehounds up to it? How was I surrounded by hordes, how were you conveniently close by to save me?”
The darker haired cookie smirked, “Ah—ah, you’ve started to doubt me, my dear, must you assume I have evil intentions for everything? You’re just like all those other cookies, you think I’m manipulative? A liar? Firefly, there is no absolute truth in the world, ultimately we all just want to believe what’s best for us.”
Silverbell wanted Black Sapphire to say no, he wanted it so badly, he wanted to hold onto the fact that something-something was genuine and true. “You didn’t deny it. You set the cake hounds up.”
“Haaa..dear, come on, this is getting tiring.”
The knight’s hands clenched, “This is my last bit of mercy left, I’m willing to not call the remaining guards and have you executed, and I’m holding myself back from firing an arrow through your skull . Consider this uneventful breakup a parting gift, and get out.”
Silverbell wasn’t sure what he expected to achieve but to his relief, a shadow seemed to cross over Black Sapphire's face for a moment, a stormy expression replaced the easy grin, and he looked..annoyed. Annoyed but he backed away from the faerie cookie.
“Silverling, silverling. My sweet silverling speaking such mean words. I’m hurt.” Black Sapphire said, through an ill hidden sneer, “I thought we had more of a relationship, you’re really going to break up over this?”
“You forget yourself, Black Sapphire. I am a knight of the Faerie Kingdom. My duty comes first.”
“Really? I don’t recall you saying that the other night. Besides, I’m a bit peeved over how your darling little friends disrupted my plans, preventing me from rescuing my master-who has been wrongfully imprisoned. But I haven’t retaliated for that, have I? ”
Silverbell slowly drew out his bow from his sheath on his back, nocking it and drawing back the string. He raised the bow, and aimed it directly at Black Sapphire.
“Leave. Now.” he said.
“Fine.” Black Sapphire spat, the words ‘you’ll regret this’ are unsaid yet judging by the cookie’s thunderous expression, and his personality, Silverbell knows Black Sapphire won’t just let this go.
To his relief once more, the darker hair cookie does nothing but turn on his heels, and nearly rips the door off its hinges before exiting the room and disappearing down the halls.
Silverbell is now alone.
He drops onto his bed like a puppet cut from their strings, collapsing and letting his wings droop, exhaustion and tears carrying him to sleep.
(Even though we already know, we couldn’t stop)
“Are you sneaking out to see the love of your life again?” Sweetened Sand Cookie asked, her voice with a hint of tease, light and friendly, something they all needed during this time. “Don’t get caught, you know. If it was someone other than me discovering you guys, you would have been sacked in an instant.”
the love of your life
the love of your life—
and Silverbell knew he was irreversibly doomed. Because the truth was, Black Sapphire was the love of his life. In Black Sapphire’s hands lay Silverbell’s bleeding heart, and in Black Sapphire’s hands it will be forever, because Silverbell had lowered his walls and he’ll never do it again.
And it was all over, because in the end, Black Sapphire is a cookie of deceit and trickery, and Silverbell is a knight of the faeries.
And in the end, duty prevailed over love.
“No,” Silverbell said, “Just going out for a walk.”
“barty.” regulus finally said, “let him breathe.” he spoke in a casual tone, not looking up and merely flipping to another page in his book.
a look of mild annoyance crossed barty’s face, he let out a dramatic huff before releasing avery’s neck and dropping him to the ground, he dusted his hands, turned around, and returned to the darker haired boy’s side with a pout on his face.
“don’t look at me like that.” regulus murmured, glancing up, “a little longer and he would have needed a healer, do you know how exhausting it’ll be convincing slughorn to not expel you?”
