Sirius In Azkaban - Tumblr Posts

mouth wide open | s.b.

tw: major character death

post-azkaban sirius x reader

summary: your husband, sirius, returns to you after twelve years. but at what cost?

A million different memories flash in your mind as you stare transfixed at the man in front of you - intertwining your fingers together when you first entered Hogwarts at 11. Smiling into the first kiss the two of you shared at fifteen. Being held in his arms as you sobbed into his chest when he proposed at twenty-one. Once memories to treasure had now morphed into memories to desperately grasp onto as they were snatched away from you.

“You just wait and see, love. I’ll leave you with your mouth wide open,” he used to say confidently, a grin on his face before he went and did something stupid to impress you. A small smile forms on your lips as you recall how often he claimed that in your teenage years.

It felt surreal, the moment you had dreamt of for years finally taking place right before your eyes. Twelve years, to be exact. You continue to stand there dumbly, quietly taking in his features and timeless beauty. His long, silky black hair, now unruly and messy with lack of care. His hypnotising grey eyes, now sunken and without a spark. Hey, what about that smile of his - the one which always made your heart flutter? You lock your eyes on his lips, eyes lighting up as you see the corners of his mouth tilted up in that familiar, teasing smirk. The familiar sensation of butterflies soaring in your stomach takes over your senses as you look him up and down.

Sirius Black. A name you had grown so accustomed to calling, but a name that had never left your mouth for the past twelve years. He was here now, after all this time. Sirius kept his promise - he said he would return to you, and he did. Your prayers had been answered. The world had brought your husband back to you.

But oh, how you wished he had been brought back to you alive.

“Miss?” the mortuary worker asked irritably, her voice filtering through the haze in your head, causing you to snap back to reality. “Is this your husband or not?”

You glance at her, inhaling sharply. The taste of blood is metallic in your mouth as you bite your lip to stop it from quivering. “Yes,” you murmur, your eyes glossing over as you reach over and gently close his eyes. “This is my husband, Sirius Black.”

“Good,” she mutters to herself, scribbling something on a piece of paper before grabbing the cart carrying his dead body and wheeling it out of the mortuary. You silently watch as he leaves you again. He had left you with a broken heart, crushed soul, and true to his words - your mouth wide open.

I'm just so new at being a Marauders fan, two and a half months into this sad, angsty bullshit, and I still have to connect some dots.

Today's realization doze happened exactly five seconds ago, because;

Sirius spent his birthday, on November 2nd, 1981 after two days in Azkaban. With no one he loves around.

James and Lily dead, Peter deadly gone, Remus dead inside, and Sirius losing his shine, falling down as a dead star.

Now imagine him muttering constantly why he killed his only family, only for Bellatrix, next to his cellar, to whisper "I know you didn't do it."

I love to imagine them having a "nice childhood" together, only to be separated because of their parents' beliefs.

Imagine Sirius all dead inside, in a rotting, smelly prison, with his long ago evil turned cousin next to him, trying to awaken his shine again. Because Sirius cannot die, one of her favorite little Black.

Whatever you do, don't think of Sirius Black.

Don't think of Sirius Black spending his twenty-first birthday surrounded by his family and friendsband boyfriend.

Don't think of him spending his twenty-second birthday alone, mourning his brother and cursing his best friend's name and looking at the moon because it reminds him of his boyfriend, who he now believes hates him.

Don't think of the fact that he was barely old enough to drink when he got sentenced to life in the most horrible place on earth, so horrific that people went insane.

Don't think of him spending hours and hours and hours as a black dog, crying on the floor of his cold cell, clinging to the knowledge that he is innocent as the only thing keeping him sane.

Don't think of him promising himself every night that one day, he will set the record straight.

Don't think of him slowly losing hope.