Soft Reminder: It’s Ok If You’re Overwhelmed! There’s No Need To Look Too Far Ahead. Ask Yourself,

my fav writer following me back?!? Ahhhhh

I can die happily now TuT

Also!! Hello new moot!!

Hi!! omg i can’t believe im being mentioned as a fav writer now ilysm 🥹🥹🥹 thank you for liking my stories!!

The Duke’s Betrothed

Y/N and Paul sneaking around.

Paul Atreides x Fem!reader

word count: 773

warnings: fluff, arranged marriage

requested by: @ekgrooms using A6 and B7

masterlist, Paul masterlist

The first time Y/N laid eyes on Paul Atreides, it was as if the universe itself conspired to halt time. Their gazes locked across the grand hall of Castle Caladan, where their engagement was to be announced, and in that instant, nothing else existed—only him. The weight of duty, the careful maneuvering of noble houses, and the whispers of political alliances all melted away. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, all sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes, a quiet storm wrapped in nobility.

Paul felt it too. The moment his eyes met Y/N’s, something within him shifted. He had expected another strategic marriage, another lesson in duty—but instead, he found her. And she was radiant, her presence like a force of gravity, pulling him in, making him forget the careful lessons of restraint and propriety.

The announcement had been made with all the pomp and circumstance expected of two great houses uniting, but neither of them had needed it. Theirs was not an arrangement of convenience or power—it was fate.

Y/N’s arrival on Caladan had been an affair of state. Her family, noble and prestigious, had disembarked from their ornithopter with all the grandeur expected of a house worthy of binding itself to the Atreides name. Banners bearing their sigil fluttered in the sea breeze, and a formal procession led them toward the towering castle.

Duke Leto Atreides stood at the forefront, his expression a carefully measured blend of welcome and authority. Lady Jessica stood at his side, her Bene Gesserit training evident in the poised way she assessed the newcomers. Paul, however, stood a step ahead, his heart pounding in his chest as he laid eyes on Y/N for the first time.

Her father spoke first, bowing slightly to Leto before introducing his daughter. “Duke Atreides, my daughter Y/N. May this union bring prosperity and strength to both our houses.”

Y/N inclined her head in graceful acknowledgment, but it was Paul’s gaze she sought, and when their eyes met, the world seemed to still. He took a careful step forward, offering his hand. “It is an honor to meet you,” he said, his voice softer than expected, as if he had already surrendered to whatever force had drawn them together.

Her fingers met his, and a charge passed between them, subtle yet undeniable. The formalities continued around them, but Y/N barely registered them, her attention solely on the young duke-to-be before her. She had heard of Paul Atreides—his intelligence, his sense of duty, the legend already forming around his name—but no account had prepared her for this.

-

“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” Y/N whispered breathlessly against Paul’s lips as he pressed her against the cold stone wall of the castle’s secluded corridor.

He smirked, his hands framing her face as he leaned in once more, his breath warm against her skin. “I’d take the blame gladly.”

She giggled but it was quickly swallowed by another kiss—deep, urgent, as if they were trying to make up for lost time. They had been forced to endure a night of public appearances, endless toasts and polite conversation, all while their hearts pounded with the knowledge that they’d find a way to steal away, just the two of them. And now, with the moonlight spilling through the high windows, they had.

Paul pulled back just enough to brush his thumb along her cheek, his expression softening. “Do you trust me?”

Y/N exhaled, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his tunic. “With everything.”

His lips found hers again, slow and intoxicating, as he pressed her even closer. The castle was vast, its corridors twisting and labyrinthine, but in that moment, they could have been standing at the edge of the universe, alone in their own world.

Every stolen kiss, soft laugh against skin, whispered name felt like a rebellion against formality, expectation, and time itself. Paul’s hands settled at her waist, his forehead resting against hers as they caught their breath. The air between them charged with something more than just attraction.

Love.

Real, undeniable, unshakable love.

A noise down the hall had them both freezing, their hearts leaping into their throats. Paul grasped her hand without thinking, his reflexes honed from years of training. They dashed down the corridor, barely suppressing their laughter as they slipped into the shadows, breathless and exhilarated.

Y/N squeezed his fingers. “If we keep sneaking around like this, we might actually get in trouble.”

Paul grinned. “Worth it.”

And as he pulled her into another stolen kiss, she had to agree. Worth it, indeed.

Hi hi! I’m the anon that requested the new baby fic and I’m sosososo happy u liked it! I LOVE baby Danny so much she’s so cute this is so perfect MUAH

Thank you so much! I'm really glad that I was able to write what you requested! I love this prompt sm no joke 🙏

So good wth😭

Messiah

𝐋𝐄𝐄 - 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋

🌟 = Fluff, 🪐 = Angst, ✨ = mild spice, 🎬 = hurt/comfort

{𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝} → open ! || requests are usually open unless they get too much, then I will turn them off so that I could finish other requests ! ||

ONE-SHOTS:

Forever you 🎬🌟 - Lee is cursed with immortality, and he finds Y/N's reincarnation every time.

SERIES:

(not yet available)

BLURBS :

(not yet available)

𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒

🌟 = Fluff, 🪐 = Angst, ✨ = mild spice, 🎬 = hurt/comfort

{𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝} → open ! || requests are usually open unless they get too much, then I will turn them off so that I could finish other requests ! ||

ONE-SHOTS :

𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕'𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 .ᐟ (1)

𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥'𝐬 𝐉𝐨𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 (2)

SERIES:

(not yet available)

BLURBS:

(not yet available)

The Battle of Hogwarts

The Potter-Black's fight in the Battle of Hogwarts.

Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader]

word count: 815

warning: mentions of war, death, hurt/comfort, almost dying

The air crackled with curses and screams, the ground trembling beneath every explosion. Smoke stung Harry's eyes as he ducked behind a crumbling stone pillar, his chest heaving. His wand hand was steady, but his heart was racing. Across the battlefield, Death Eaters swarmed like shadows, their masks faceless and unforgiving.

“Protego!” Harry shouted, deflecting a curse aimed at Neville. He spun, firing off a Stupefy toward a masked figure. The spell hit true, and the Death Eater crumpled. He was about to move again when something caught his eye through the smoke.

There—at the heart of the chaos—were his parents.

Y/N and Regulus stood side by side, backs to each other, fighting with the synchronized precision of two people who had spent years learning each other’s rhythms. Y/N’s wand slashed through the air as fiery runes lit up the darkness, forming ancient symbols that struck down three Death Eaters in a single sweep. Regulus was a blur of defensive magic, shields shimmering like a protective cocoon around his wife as he deflected curses with ruthless efficiency.

“Come on, you bastards!” Y/N snarled, hurling a Blasting Curse that shattered a marble column, toppling Death Eaters beneath the debris.

Regulus cast a cutting hex, sending another enemy sprawling. His eyes flicked up for the briefest second—and locked with Harry’s across the battlefield.

The look said everything: Stay safe. Stay alive.

Harry gave a grim nod and turned back into the fray. But even as he fought, the image of his parents—unbreakable, untouchable—stayed with him.

Not far away, Danny, now 15, stood with her back to the Great Hall’s shattered entrance. Her hair was tangled, and her lip was bleeding. Her wand hand was firm, though, her father’s lessons echoing in her mind.

“Stay grounded, little star. Predict their movements. Strike hard. Strike smart.”

The Death Eater before her sneered beneath his mask. “Look at you. A little girl playing hero.”

Danny’s grip tightened. “Avia Ignis!” she shouted.

Golden, bird-shaped flames shot from her wand, screeching as they slammed into his shield. The Death Eater staggered. Danny didn’t hesitate. “Expelliarmus!”

The man’s wand flew from his grasp, and Danny followed with a swift “Stupefy.” He collapsed in a heap.

Breathing heavily, she turned—just in time to see the ceiling above her crack. Massive chunks of stone and timber groaned as they began to fall.

Her eyes widened.

Run.

She bolted toward the corridor, sprinting with all her strength as the ceiling collapsed behind her. The noise was deafening. A jagged block clipped her shoulder, sending her sprawling. She scrambled to her feet, heart hammering. A deafening crack sounded above her, and—

The world turned to darkness.

Hours later, the battle was over. The Dark Lord was gone, his forces scattered or captured. But Hogwarts lay in ruins, and the losses were staggering.

Y/N stood amidst the rubble, her hands trembling as she gripped Regulus’s arm. Her eyes were wild, scanning the battlefield for any sign of their daughter.

“She was there, Reg,” Y/N gasped. “Near the Great Hall. I saw her fighting.”

Regulus, pale and bloodied, pulled her into his arms. “We’ll find her.” His voice cracked.

Harry appeared beside them, face streaked with dirt and ash. “I’ll help look.”

The three of them moved toward the hall, stepping over shattered stone and fallen bodies. Y/N’s breaths came faster with each step. Her eyes landed on a collapsed archway, a familiar child-sized wand lying just beyond the rubble.

“No,” she whispered. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed with a broken sob. “No, no, no.”

Regulus knelt beside her, pulling her into his chest even as his own shoulders shook. Harry stood frozen, unable to look away from the wand.

The silence was suffocating.

And then—

There was a faint shift beneath the rubble.

A small hand, scraped and bloodied, pushed through the stones.

Harry lunged forward, yanking rocks away. “Danny! Danny, we’re here!”

The debris shifted further, and with a low groan, Danica emerged. Her curls were matted with dust, her face streaked with grime, but her eyes were bright and alive.

“Mama?” she croaked.

Y/N scrambled to her knees, pulling Danny into a crushing embrace. “Oh, my baby—my baby.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she rocked her daughter back and forth.

Regulus dropped beside them, cupping Danny’s face. “You’re okay, starshine. You’re okay.”

Danny’s lips quirked into a wobbly smile. “Told you I was good at dueling, Baba.”

Harry barked out a watery laugh and ruffled her hair. “Yeah, Hazzy’s proud of you, squirt.”

Danny leaned against Y/N’s chest, eyes fluttering closed. “I’m sleepy,” she mumbled.

“That’s okay,” Y/N whispered, kissing the crown of her head. “Rest, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

As the first light of dawn broke through the shattered ceiling, the Potter-Black family sat together amidst the ruins—bruised, battered, but whole.

previous chapter <-

Potter-Black household

🌟 = Fluff, 🪐 = Angst, ✨ = mild spice, 🎬 = hurt/comfort

{𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝} → open ! || requests are usually open unless they get too much, then I will turn them off so that I could finish other requests ! ||

After James and Lily’s passing, they entrust their son, Harry, to the care of James’ sister, Y/N, and her husband, Regulus Black, who raise him as their own.

Thunder 🌟 (1)

Uncle Moony and Siri 🌟 (2)

Glasses 🌟 (3)

Mom and Dad 🪐 (4)

Meeting Walburga Black 🎬 (5)

Harry meets Danny 🌟 (6)

The Adventures of Danny and Hazzy 🌟 (7)

Eerie Similarities 🌟 (8)

Danny's turn 🌟 (9)

Harry's post-Hogwarts 🎬 (10)

The End ! 🌟 (11)

changed my navigation again... looks good? need thoughts

Meeting Walburga

Regulus brings Harry to meet his grandmother

[Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader]

word count: 785

warnings: hurt/comfort, Walburga being a meanie to Harry

-

Regulus wasn’t entirely sure why he agreed to this.

It was a terrible idea. He knew that. Y/N knew that. Even Kreacher, who had loyally followed him into this new life, had given him a wary look when he mentioned visiting 12 Grimmauld Place.

Yet, here they were.

Harry held Regulus’ hand tightly as they stood outside the Black family’s ancestral home. The looming townhouse was as dark and unwelcoming as ever, its iron-wrought serpent door knocker glinting in the dim London light. Regulus exhaled sharply, tightening his grip on his son’s small hand.

“Stay close to me,” he murmured.

Harry nodded, his green eyes wide as he stared up at the tall building. “Are you sure she won’t like… hex me?” he whispered, only half-joking.

Regulus almost smirked. She would if she could.

Instead, he knocked.

The door swung open almost immediately, revealing Kreacher. His large, bat-like ears twitched as he looked down at Harry. For a long moment, he was silent, his expression unreadable. Then, to Harry’s surprise, the elf bowed low.

“Master Regulus,” he croaked. “Young Master Potter.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. Master Potter? No one had ever called him that before.

Regulus gave a curt nod, stepping inside and ushering Harry in after him. The house smelled the same—dust, old magic, and a hint of something burning in the fireplace. The walls were lined with dark portraits, and Harry nearly jumped as one of them moved.

But before he could get a proper look, a voice rang through the house—sharp, commanding, and dripping with disdain.

“Regulus.”

Harry turned toward the voice and saw her.

Walburga Black stood at the foot of the grand staircase, dressed in deep emerald green. Her sharp features were set in stone, her dark eyes taking in her son before shifting to Harry.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Regulus straightened his shoulders, his grip on Harry’s hand firm. “Mother.”

Walburga’s lips thinned as her gaze swept over Harry like he was an insect. “So,” she said slowly, coldly. “This is what you’ve been reduced to. Raising a half-blood.”

Harry stiffened, instinctively stepping closer to Regulus.

Regulus’ expression didn’t change. “He is my son.”

Walburga scoffed. “He is James Potter’s son.” Her voice was venomous. “A disgrace to the family name.”

Harry felt his face grow hot, but before he could say anything, Regulus spoke—his voice steady, but edged with steel.

“He is my son,” he repeated, quieter this time. “And I will not tolerate you speaking of him that way.”

Walburga’s eyes darkened. “You dare bring him into this house?”

“I brought him here so you could meet your grandson,” Regulus said, his tone even. “Not to hear your outdated prejudices.”

Harry bit his lip, gripping Regulus’ sleeve. He didn’t understand everything, but he knew she didn’t like him. He could feel it.

For a long, tense moment, Walburga simply stared at them.

Then, to Harry’s utter shock, she let out a low chuckle.

“You’ve changed,” she murmured, her gaze locked onto Regulus. “Not that it matters. The blood in your veins remains the same. That thing” —her eyes flicked to Harry— “does not.”

Harry flinched.

Regulus’ jaw tightened. “Come, Harry,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We’re leaving.”

Harry didn’t hesitate, stepping quickly in line beside him as Regulus turned on his heel.

As they reached the door, Walburga’s voice rang out again.

“When the time comes,” she said, “you’ll regret your choices, Regulus.”

Regulus didn’t stop walking.

Kreacher, who had remained silent through the exchange, gave a deep bow as they passed.

As soon as they stepped outside, Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Regulus glanced down at him. “Are you alright?”

Harry hesitated, then nodded. “…She doesn’t like me.”

Regulus sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “That doesn’t matter,” he muttered. Then, more softly, “I do.”

Harry blinked up at him.

“…Mama does, too,” he said after a moment.

Regulus smirked. “Of course she does. She’s your mother.”

Harry smiled a little, shuffling closer to Regulus as they started walking again.

“…Do you think Kreacher likes me?”

Regulus chuckled, glancing back at the house. “I think he’s figuring it out.”

Harry hummed. “I liked him.”

Regulus raised a brow. “You did?”

“He bowed,” Harry said simply. “I think that means he kinda likes me.”

Regulus shook his head in amusement. “You are far too optimistic.”

But as they made their way home, he found himself silently grateful.

Harry would never know the cold walls of that house. He would never be raised in darkness, surrounded by cruel whispers of blood purity and superiority.

He had a family.

A real one.

-

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