thistlecat's favorite hp darkfic
dead dove don't eat
(Open, Moderated)
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Summary
It is a truth universally acknowledged within the House of Black that where there is a spare, there must first be an heir.
The heir may prosper very well without his counterpart; indeed, he requires him not at all. But the spare, that poor vestigial creature, has no existence independent of the heir, and serves only as his contrast—bound by birth order to a role which could never be more than the echo of the other’s elevated circumstances.
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Sirius’s brother has always been odd—but then, who wouldn’t be after a lifetime confined to Grimmauld Place? When James comes to stay for the summer, Sirius doesn’t expect him to take any interest in Regulus. Yet James’s fascination sparks quickly, and what begins as harmless visits—late-night whispers, muffled laughter behind closed doors—soon takes on a darker edge. Sirius knows James too well to trust him, but trying to protect Regulus becomes more complicated than he ever imagined.
After all, how can you protect someone you love, when you’re one of the wolves at their door?
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shake off your flesh, run from the light by iamsiriuslyriddikulus
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
21 May 2023
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Summary
It starts with a confession. Beatrice never meant to let it slip, but the Firewhiskey loosened her tongue until she found herself leaning over to Evan and saying, “Sometimes I prefer to kill them with a knife.” She stares down at the space between them, not daring to meet Evan’s eyes. “I know it’s an awfully Muggle way to do it, but I like the mess. You can feel it more than you can with a wand, and you get to watch the life leave their eyes.”
Evan places a hand behind her, palm flat against the grass, and leans her weight on it as she takes a swig from the bottle. Beatrice braces herself for a speech about how unnecessary it is, how it’s beneath her, but none comes. “Show me,” Evan says.
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Rec 5
Mystery Work
Part of TurbulentStarlight's Hidden Works
Summary
This is part of an ongoing challenge and will be revealed soon!
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Summary
Bellatrix didn’t consider herself a cradle robber. Sirius was nine years her junior, and still a whining little shit when things didn’t go his way. But when he shut that fat, stupid mouth of his, when he turned those glittering eyes in her direction, she had to give pause.