Help the “I’m in school” for the batfam and the godfather crossover was so damm real.
I haven’t sent in request for some time. My grandmas birthday is today :D we went out to eat yesterday and we had cake today after I came back from school.
I had this idea the day before yesterday but I’m having trouble putting it into words. Hmmm I’m still debating on Sirius or Regulus
Well Regulus it is.
Dead Regulus x reader. Moved on Reader x Sirius.
Actually it doesn’t have to be Sirius. It can be anyone tbh.
So there’s this really good book on Ao3 and its author wrote another book. A hardcopy one. It’s called “the man upstairs” I really love it and I absolutely died reading it. I couldn’t put the book down and cried so hard at the end. No spoilers (not a lot) but the grandmother remarried someone after like 40(?) years of being a widow and the proposal was so touching.
Her previous husband loved the stars and he died when her son was 15. After so long, her son married and had a daughter. They moved house where she met another man that she in the end married.
Why is the fact that her dead husband loved stars so important? When the other man proposed to her, it was at dusk, her previous husband’s favourite time and the stars were shinning, lighting up her face, as if blessing her. Like her dead husband was happy of her being able to move on and find another love. Like the stars lit up her face to say: look! Look! That’s my wife, look at her beautiful she is! I’m giving my blessings so take care of her! :D
I cried so hard at that part like (˃̣̣̥ᴖ˂̣̣̥)
-🍄
Damnnn... Since it got you to cry I'm gonna search for that book<3
You never thought you'd move on. Not really, at least. Not after Regulus. But here you were, standing at the threshold of something new, something you hadn’t quite expected.
The love you shared with Regulus Black was pure, fleeting, and tragically cut short. The way he held you under the stars, his whispers blending with the wind, telling you stories about constellations. "Do you know," he'd say, "that the stars are just like us? Burning bright, but knowing they won’t last forever?"
You'd smile, always too naive to grasp the depth of his words, his quiet understanding of time’s cruelty. Regulus passed away, leaving you with nothing but memories and the quiet ache of loss, like the kind of silence that fills the space between breaths. He died before he could ever really understand what he meant to you — before he could know that he was your heart’s eternal star.
But life moved on. The years passed, and the pain of Regulus’s death, while not gone, had softened into something more like a scar. It never healed fully, but you learned how to live with it. To keep breathing, to keep moving forward.
It was then that you met him — James Sirius Potter. He was nothing like Regulus, but then again, how could he be? James was loud, bright, full of energy, and so overwhelmingly kind. His warmth wasn’t the quiet, brooding kind that Regulus had given you; it was radiant, like sunlight spilling through the clouds. He didn’t ask you to be quiet or still; he wanted you to laugh, to dance in the rain.
It had taken you time to let him in. To allow yourself to love again, knowing it was unfair to Regulus's memory. But as time wore on, you began to find comfort in the sound of James’s laughter, in the way he made you feel safe. He never asked you to forget Regulus. He never wanted to erase him from your life. But when you cried about him, James just held you. And that holding felt like a soft healing.
Tonight, as you stood under the dusky sky, you couldn’t help but remember Regulus again. The stars sparkled, twinkling softly above, and for a moment, it felt like he was right there with you. His absence a quiet hum in your chest, a reminder that, despite everything, he was still part of you.
James noticed the silence between you two, the way you looked up at the sky. He followed your gaze, the stars twinkling back at him.
“Do you ever miss him?” James asked softly, his voice gentle, understanding the unspoken weight in your heart.
“I do,” you whispered. “But it’s different now. It’s not so painful.”
James nodded, his eyes tender. He understood. The love you had for Regulus could never be replaced. It was a part of you, woven into the fabric of who you were. But there was room for something new, something that could also be beautiful. That, you realized, was the magic of moving on. Love didn’t diminish with time; it grew, took on different shapes.
And then, as if the universe itself was listening, James pulled something from his pocket — a small, carefully folded letter.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with anticipation. “I know it’s not fair to try to replace someone who was so special to you. But I want to show you that I can love you in a way that respects what you had, what you lost.”
You felt your heart race as he knelt in front of you, holding the letter in his hand, and beneath the stars, he spoke again.
“I love you. I don’t want you to forget Regulus, but I want to be here. With you. Will you marry me?”
The words hung in the air, soft but filled with purpose. Your breath caught in your throat, and the world around you seemed to stop. The stars above twinkled, as if the universe itself was watching, holding its breath, waiting for your answer.
You looked up at the sky, the same stars that had once been Regulus’s greatest love, and for a moment, you imagined him, looking down from wherever he was, smiling, his presence gentle and reassuring. It’s okay, you could almost hear him say, Go ahead. Love again. I’m watching over you.
With a smile, you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”
And as James slid the ring onto your finger, the stars above seemed to shine brighter, as if blessing you, too, for your courage. For moving forward while carrying the love that would never truly fade. Regulus's memory was still with you, woven into the starlit sky. But now, you had someone new beside you, someone who would be there for the days ahead.
And that, you realized, was the way it was meant to be. Love, like the stars, didn’t vanish; it only burned brighter.
