GaëlleEvasimp

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"Ahhhhhhh!"

Lady Walburga screamed as the pain of another contraction wracked her body, echoing through the shadowed chamber. 

"Breathe, my lady," urged the midwife, her voice steady but urgent. "The head is crowning—push now, with everything you have!" 

"I cannot endure this! Take the babe—take it out, now!" Walburga shrieked, her voice breaking as another wave of pain seized her, echoing off the chamber's dark stone walls. The lady sounds full of desepration and fatigue as she was in the labour for the past 8 hours . 

While the matriarch struggled within the birthing chamber, a similar unrest gripped those gathered outside. The entire House of Black, along with its closest confidants, waited in tense silence for the arrival of the new heir.

Lord Orion Black, current head of the House, paced the corridor with visible distress etched upon his face. Each anguished cry of his wife-cousin cut through him like a blade, deepening his worry. Torn between fear for his beloved and hope for the child, he whispered silent prayers to Hecate, Goddess of Magic, beseeching her to spare them both. 

"All shall be well, cousin. My sister is forged of iron, a fighter from her very first breath—and so too shall your child be. Remember this: tonight, our noble House claims its heir.

Cygnus Black , younger brother to Lady Walburga  comforted his brother in law. After seeing the births of his three daughters , the Lord knows the difficulty women must endure in labour. 

"I hope so, cousin. The labour is taking its toll on your sister, and I do not know how much more she can endure," said Orion Black, his voice heavy with worry.

" Nothing will happen to Walburga , Orion . Walburga is strong. She was born of our bloodline. Do not let doubt consume you—she will endure. " Druella Black nee Rosier ensured her brother in law. 

Before anyone could say anything , A cry pierced the air.

Not Walburga's strained wail, but the thin, sharp cry of new life. The sound carried through the corridor like a spell, freezing every Black in place. For a heartbeat, no one breathed.

And then the door creaked open. The midwife stepped into view, her robes damp with sweat, her face pale but triumphant. In her arms she carried a swaddled bundle, from which the shrill cries continued.

"The heir of the House of Black has been born," she announced.

A ripple passed through the gathered kin—relief, pride, and the cold weight of expectation all in one.

Orion exhaled deeply, as though a chain had been lifted from his chest. His lips moved in silent thanks—to Hecate, to fate, to whatever powers still watched over the Ancient House of Black.

The cries of the newborn filled the corridor, high and piercing. Every Black present leaned forward, anticipation heavy in the air.

Orion's eyes locked upon the swaddled bundle. His lips trembled as he asked, "Well? My child?"

The midwife lowered her gaze briefly before answering, "A girl, my lord. A strong, healthy girl."

For a moment, silence hung like a curse. The gathered kin exchanged glances— some surprised, others unreadable.

Orion froze, his face a storm of relief and conflict. His wife lived. The child lived. And yet...

Cygnus broke the silence, stepping forward with a voice that carried authority.

"Then so be it. A daughter of the House of Black. Mark this night well—for whether son or daughter, the blood of our line runs strong. She is our heir."

The weight of his words settled over the family. Cassiopeia Black, Maternal Aunt to Lord Orion, inclined her head in cold approval, while others whispered their approval .

Orion drew a steadying breath and looked upon the child at last. The tiny girl's cry filled the hall again—fragile yet defiant, as though she already knew the weight of the name she bore.

As though aware she was the center of attention, the newborn heiress opened her eyes.

A collective gasp echoed through the chamber. The child's eyes—deep, dark, and unsettlingly vivid—seemed almost to pierce the souls of those who looked upon her. Whispers rippled among the gathered kin.

"She... she is extraordinary," muttered Druella, her voice tinged with awe and apprehension.

" Yes... She is "

Orion's breath caught in his chest. Even in her tiny form, the babe radiated the legacy of their ancient line—the weight of the House of Black resting in her gaze alone.  

"Where is Walburga? Is she well?" Orion Black's voice trembled slightly as the thought of his wife—who had endured so much to bring their child into the world—finally returned to him.

Around him, others seemed momentarily to forget the matriarch, their attention utterly captured by the newborn heiress. The newborn's presence commanded the room, her tiny form radiating a legacy so potent that even the venerable members of the House of Black were drawn into awe and reverence.

Yet her name had not been decided. That honor belonged solely to Walburga, who now rested within the chamber, exhausted but unyielding. All waited, silently acknowledging that the child's true identity—the name she would carry as heir—would not be spoken until her mother decreed it.

" Her Ladyship was taken to be washed to get rid of fatigue. But she is now ready to see her babe , My Lord " The midwife informed him.

The chamber door creaked open, and Walburga's pale, sweat-dampened form was supported by her attendants.

Her dark hair clung to her face, but her eyes burned with the same fierce strength that had defined the House of Black for generations.

Orion moved swiftly to her side, kneeling. "You have delivered her safely, my love. She is... extraordinary."

Walburga's lips curved into a faint, proud smile. She lifted her gaze to the newborn heiress, now alert and observing the gathered kin with an intensity that belied her tiny form.

After a long, tense silence, Walburga spoke, her voice both fragile and commanding:

"From this night forward, she shall bear the name that will carry our House into its next age. She shall be... Siria Orion Black."

The name Siria is whispered in hushed tones among the ancient lines of the House of Black. It is said to carry the essence of Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky, whose light guides even in the deepest darkness. To bear this name is to be marked by destiny—a child who will illuminate the House of Black with her power, cunning, and resilience.

A collective hush fell over the chamber. Even the elders, usually impervious to sentiment, felt a shiver of awe. The name resonated—strong, dark, and luminous all at once, as though the stars themselves had whispered it into existence.

Orion bent closer, pressing a hand to his forehead, overwhelmed by relief and reverence. Pollux and Cassiopeia exchanged solemn glances, recognizing that the child before them was no ordinary heir.

Siria Black had been named, and with that name came destiny—power, legacy, and the shadowed promise of the House of Black itself.

The newborn stirred, her gaze meeting her mother's. It was as though she already understood her name, her bloodline, and the weight of all that she would inherit.

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Author's note : I told before it would be a long wait , but even I didnt it would take this long to start a story. However , I will make sure to update with a week. Don't forget to vote , guys.

Sitting on a sofa at Collinwood, you stare at the band in awe. The last time this family held any sort of social gathering was at least a century ago. And now, with the arrival of distant cousin Barnabas, they really managed to get out of that deep pit of bankruptcy quite quickly.

It's a pretty sweet setting though. Sitting with a cup of booze, watching a free concert of some random band you don't know, surrounded by neatly dressed people. It's not that bad. Maybe a bit too much of a crowd for your taste, but-

Your eyes are left wide as a blonde walks into the room.

'I didn't know Angie was invited...' you thought, staring at the woman in awe. That dress, just tight enough to show off her every curve, the sparkling red making her stand out. Damn, she was hot.

It remains a mistery, whether this was a conscious decision or the choice of the alcohol, but you leave your cup on the table and get up, approaching the beauty as she makes her way through the crowd.

She didn't notice you until you tapped her shoulder, but to that she immediately turned around, almost angrily. Though she definitely calmed down once she saw it was just you.

"Oh. It's just you. I didn't think you would be here. What do you need?" Said Angie. Fuck, that accent.

"You look really hot in that dress." You responded, the alcohol definitely controlling your every move now. You'd never be this brave to approach someone, let alone the most beautiful woman in town. To you, most beautiful, that is.

Angie raises her eyebrows in slight surprise, humming in question. "Mm? That so, luv?" Her lips tug into the slightest smirk, definitely relishing in the compliment. "Well, thank you. But I'm afraid I have to go now. There's someone waiting for me."

"Wait-!" You grab her shoulder right as she's about to turn around. She does turn back to you, looking a little confused. Well? What's the plan now, hun?

It's okay, I'll anwser that. You blurt out an awkward little "Stay with me for a while longer. Please?" You're almost embarrassed by that. Though, the desperation and intoxication definitely overpowers that.

Angie looks you over like you're asking for something surreal. Like it's so strange to want to spend more time with your dad's boss. But, from the look in her eyes, she doesn't seem all too opposed to the idea.

She places her hand over the one you're holding onto her with, intertwining your fingers. "Oh, really? I'm.. flattered. You wish to spend time with me, dearie?" You merely nod, not knowing how she'll react. I wouldn't call Angie unpredictable, but this surely is a situation you can expect almost anything of.

"And what do you wish to do, lovely? Enjoy the performance, or perhaps chat a little?" She asked, squeezing your hand in hopes of bringing you back to reality. It worked. Somewhat.

'Well.. I mean, I want something a little more than chatting, but.. okay.' You thought, unsure of how to voice these thoughts. But you didn't need to think for long, as your fingers slipped from hers, sliding down her shoulder, over the smooth skin above her collarbone, and down to her chest.

The rational part of yourself was internally screaming. Yes, Angie was attractive, but to go this far? She's the most influential person in Collinsport!

But despite that, she really didn't seem to mind. She chuckled, grabbing onto your wrist and slowly pulling your hand away. Though she holds onto it, rubbing circles around your wrist bone. "Maybe not here, dear."

She stares into your eyes in contemplation, giving you a sickly sweet smile once she's made up her mind. "I suppose Barnabas can wait a little." She decided, as she abruptly stops rubbing your wrist and grabs your hand instead.

You get pulled along with her, leaving the crowded drawing room. Making your way down the halls, into an empty bedroom. It clearly hasn't been used in quite a while, with the furniture having collected a bit of dust.

Getting your wrist free from her grasp, you crawl up onto the bed. The sight was quite enticing for Angie, as she immediately climbed on top of you, laying her chin on your chest.

"You like me that much, huh?" She comments, staring up at you with a mischievous smile. Not even giving you a chance to respond, Angie slides her hand in your dress and starts caressing her way up your leg, stopping and kneading your thighs a little. Not too harshly, but not making an effort to be gentle.

"You're so prettyyy.." you drag the words out, staring into her eyes in a haze. At first, the rational part of you was extremely concerned. But now, laying here in bed with the hot blonde, you're starting to think this might not be all that bad.

"Aww, thank you, sweetheart. You're also quite beautiful, laid out under me." She says, looking down at you as best as she can. She seems to get an idea, as she stops massaging your flesh, and slides her hand up your thigh, just barely grazing your core with the tip of her finger.

You gasp, presenting a quiet, shaky whimper at the touch. If you weren't wet already, you're surely soaking now. Based on your reaction, she pulls your panties aside, and starts slowly circling your clit in a teasing motion.

"Oh- Angiee.." you gasp, shuddering in pleasure. It might not be right, but this surely is what you want at the moment. You arch your back as she rubs more aggressively at your bundle of nerve endings.

She hushes you with a kiss, deep and passionate, practically smashing your lips against eachother. She slides her finger lower and slips it inside you, almost shocked at how tight you are.

Angie pulls back from the kiss, and you whimper. She whispers against your lips, surprisingly gentle. "You okay, doll?" She asks, and you nod with a little mewl.

"You're really tight, darling." She pushes a second finger inside your small canal, stretching you just right. You gasp and moan, whining her name with a shaky voice.

You grab tightly onto the bed, the sheets scrunching up under your fingers as she pumps her digits into you with a cruel pace. There's nothing else on your mind at the moment, just Angie.

All you can do is pant and moan as she works the most sensitive part of your insides, both of you lost in sensations. Angie pulls your top a little lower and lifts your breast out of your bra, dipping down to lick her way along it until she reaches your nipple.

She takes the bud into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, drawing delicious whimpers from your lips. She licks and nips at your breast while angling her fingers to reach deeper inside your wetness.

You moan her name repeatedly, unable to say anything else at the moment. She curls her fingers, making your eyes widen.

She pulls her head back from your breast, letting go of the soft skin with a quiet pop. "You're taking it well, little girl. Definitely not a virgin, are you? You're tight, but so wet."

You shake your head quickly, to deny her question. Perhaps not a virgin, but no one else made you feel like this before. Though, Angie hasn't felt anything quite like this in lifetimes, either.

She keeps pumping her fingers into you until you suddenly clench around her, arching your back and pressing your hips into the mattress as your legs shake. Angie slows her pace, helping you ride out your high.

"That's it, good girl.. enjoy yourself.." she drawls out, slowly pulling her fingers out of your cunt. She brings her hand up to your mouth and makes you suck her fingers, pushing her digits past your lips so you taste yourself.

Right as you were about to start sucking, she pulls her hand away and climbs higher over you. "You're such a good girl, you wouldn't mind lending a helping hand for me to get off as well, right? Or mouth."

Angie climbs higher, kneeling over your head so you see right up her skirt. She's dripping, her juices basically flowing between her legs. She pulls her dress up over her legs, her thighs keeping it bunched up around her hips.

You stare, quite literally drooling over the sight. You start pleading, begging for her pussy. "Sit on my face Angie, please, I'll lap it all up like a good girl, please sit on my face, please, please-"

Your whining is cut off by her suddenly lowering her cunt onto your mouth, barely leaving you any space to breathe. 

All of your senses are clouded by Angie- all you can see is the shimmer of the red sequins of her dress as they cover your eyes, the only thing you can hear is her moans and pants, you can't smell anything but sex, you can only feel her weight on your face, and all you taste is her cunt.

It's fucking perfect. All you've wanted from the second you saw her.

You eagerly slide your tongue through her heat, savoring every drop of her wetness. Angie's surely enjoying it as well, as she starts riding your face, grinding against your tongue as your nose bumps her clit every time she moves.

You tilt your head up as best as you can, coating your chin in her juices as you move to lick at her clit instead. That seems to trigger something, as Angie whimpers loudly, her hips stuttering frantically, hoping for more friction.

She starts whining as you lick faster, eventually sliding a little higher on your face as she squirts into your mouth, moaning loudly. She grips your hair, desperate as she rides out her orgasm while you lick it all up like it's ice cream.

Eventually she crawls off of you, sitting beside you on the bed as she attempts to get herself together, unused to being vulnerable like this. You wipe your chin with the back of your hand, licking your lips in satisfaction.

A smile slowly spreads across Angie's face. "You are.. quite good at this, doll." She leans over and fixes your bra, pulling the hem of your dress back up.

You sigh, staring at the wall in contemplation for a few moments before shifting your eyes back to her, proposing a question. "What would you say about going back out and getting wasted?"

Angie hums, thinking about it for a moment before grinning. "Only if we end up back in here by the end of it."

You smile in agreement, having no worries at all about what's to come.

This was gonna be a long night.