˖ † ׄ ˳   𝗔 𝓗𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝓟𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡       ✶ ۫
⋆˚｡⋆ ౨ৎ ⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ 𓆩 ❦ ︎𓆪 ༻♱༉‧₊˚. ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

❛        i think i started somethin' i got what i
wanted, i can't feel nothin', superhuman   ❜

The child of narcissistic parents, learns early that love is conditional, they quickly understand they'll only be loved for what they do, not how they are, they sense there parent cannot meet their emotional needs, so they learn to perform, excelling in sport, academics or becoming their parents confident and emotional support.
The child abandon their true self, morphing into whatever version. they highly critical and opinionated parents dream worthy. Without a genuine sense of self, they become addicted to external validation, this creates a lifetime pattern of people pleasing and self betrayal,
The relationship turn transactional, always based on what they provide for others. Deep within lies profound sense of betrayal. They were loved yes, but unconsciously used by the most significant person in their world, the anxiety anger and pain remain buried until they finally ready to acknowledge this wounds.

we'll get entangled even at a megaparsec.

BLAIR WALDORF ❪ leighton meester ❫: you sound like a jealous boyfriend.
CHUCK BASS ❪ ed westwick ❫: yeah, right! you wish!
BLAIR WALDORF ❪ leighton meester ❫: no. you wish!
CHUCK BASS ❪ ed westwick ❫: please, you forget who you're talking to.
BLAIR WALDORF ❪ leighton meester ❫: so do you. do you... like me?
CHUCK BASS ❪ ed westwick ❫: define "like"?
BLAIR WALDORF ❪ leighton meester ❫: you have got to be kidding! i do not believe this.
CHUCK BASS ❪ ed westwick ❫: how do you think i feel! i haven't slept, i feel sick - like there is something in my stomach... fluttering.
BLAIR WALDORF ❪ leighton meester ❫: butterflies? oh, no, no, no, no, no! this is not happening!
CHUCK BASS ❪ ed westwick ❫: believe me, no one is more surprised or ashamed than i am.

GOSSIP GIRL ❪ 2009 ❫

𝕾UMMARY ❜ Ꞌ ✶  i hate the way she
looks at me,  i can't stand the dialogue

                                                𝕺rion 𝕭lack II had always been told what greatness looked like. It was not a word reserved for ambition alone—it was an expectation, carved into the very bones of his family and whispered through centuries of history. The Blacks do not fall. The Blacks do not falter. The weight of the name was carried like armor, suffocating and beautiful in its gleam, a force that made lesser men bow their heads. Orion wore it well, as was his duty. He stood straight-backed and proud, his voice soft but edged like a knife, every syllable deliberate. He was perfection. And perfection allowed no cracks.

Slytherin House, as expected, had welcomed him the way a throne welcomes a king. He belonged there—not just because of blood, but because he fit, as if the air itself bent around him, afraid to step out of line. He was careful. Measured. Even in his cruelty, he was elegant. It was what they admired most about him, what made him untouchable, above the mess of lesser lives that cluttered the castle halls.

His mother once told him that love was for lesser men. The Black family did not waste themselves on frivolous notions. They married for power, for blood, for alliances that stitched their lineage ever tighter into the fabric of the wizarding world. And Orion, the heir to their polished throne, grew up perfecting this belief. He became everything a Black should be: calculated, distant, sharp as a blade. The world was chaos—messy, unpredictable—but Orion Black thrived in control. Order. Success.

                                                Sapphire Fairchild was everything a Black should desire. A Slytherin of impeccable lineage, clever and beautiful in that effortless, practiced way. Her family was well-respected, her future assured. To the outside world, they were perfect—Orion and Sapphire, the prince and princess of their gilded kingdom, two flawless pieces of the same carefully curated puzzle. She was beautiful in that effortless way that bred envy; poised, intelligent, the daughter of a family almost as old as his own. And he liked the way people spoke about her as though she was already his. He liked the way his parents looked at him when she was on his arm. Sapphire was order, just as he had always wanted.

But the universe, it seemed, had other plans.

                                                𝕾alem 𝕬bbott was not part of the plan. She didn't belong to his world, where words were weapons and smiles were sharp enough to cut. Salem was Hufflepuff. A Hufflepuff. Orion couldn't think of anything more absurd. The very name was soft, round at the edges, free of sharp teeth and biting pride. Hufflepuffs didn't scheme or wield their words like daggers. They didn't move like the world owed them reverence. To Orion, Salem Abbott was a curiosity, a problem best ignored. She walked through Hogwarts like she had all the time in the world, always with ink smudges on her fingertips and an absent smile that suggested her mind was a thousand miles away.

She wasn't perfect. She wasn't polished. Her hair was always coming loose from its tie, her robes never quite as pristine as they should have been. She was the kind of person who'd stop in the middle of the corridor to help a first-year gather their dropped books or lose herself entirely in some rambling theory about magical creatures that didn't exist. She was unremarkable—she should have been unremarkable—and yet Orion couldn't look away.

While others fought for attention, Salem moved like she existed in her own orbit, a world untouched by their machinations. She didn't speak to him, didn't look at him, and that should have suited Orion just fine.

It didn't.

Orion told himself that he didn't care. He was far too disciplined for distractions. And yet there was something about her—something unbearable. She made him feel seen when he was determined to remain invisible. Salem wasn't afraid of him, wasn't impressed by the quiet menace he wore like a second skin. It wasn't enough for her to let him win—she pushed him. Mocked him, even. She called him pretentious once, and the sound of it made his blood burn. Orion was used to respect, reverence, silence. Salem gave him none of it. And yet, when she looked at him, really looked at him, there was no fear in her gaze. No hatred, either. Just curiosity. It unsettled him more than anything. She challenged him, confused him, and worse—she laughed. At him. With him.

It began slowly, insidiously—these moments with her. A shared glance across the room when no one was looking. The brush of her hand against his in the library when reaching for the same book. Words exchanged under their breath, sharp as daggers, though they never left wounds. At some point, the banter turned into an understanding neither of them could explain. And then one night, in the quiet dark of a deserted corridor, their hands brushed—fleeting, innocent—and Orion felt something splinter inside of him.

They became something unspoken. Behind closed doors, far away from prying eyes, Orion and Salem existed in a space that felt both reckless and inevitable. It was stolen kisses and whispered words. Hands tangled in fabric, breaths hitched against the curve of a throat. Neither of them dared to call it love, but neither of them could stop. It was a fire they fed in secret, pretending it didn't burn them both alive. In public, they were strangers. Salem didn't linger near him, didn't look at him any longer than necessary. They were nothing. And Orion told himself it didn't matter. It wasn't cruel, he told himself. It was necessary. He couldn't let people see. He couldn't let her see. Salem understood this, of course, and she never asked for more than what he was willing to give.

Until the night he found the Mirror of Erised.

It was buried in a forgotten room, a relic no one dared to move, its frame carved with inscriptions older than the castle itself. Orion wasn't looking for it. He didn't believe in it, not truly. But the Mirror was not the kind of magic that cared whether you believed. He stood before it that night, certain of what he'd see. He expected to see Sapphire—he'd never allowed himself to imagine anything else. It was what he wanted, what he'd worked for his entire life.

But when the glass cleared, Orion Black's world cracked down the middle.

It was Salem.

Her hair was tousled, her smile wide and unguarded as she looked at him—at him, like he was someone worth loving. He saw himself beside her, his fingers laced through hers, a warmth in his eyes that felt unrecognizable. The man in the mirror wasn't cold, wasn't empty. He was happy. He looked lighter, softer, alive. Free. And for the first time in his life, Orion was afraid.

It was wrong. It had to be. The Mirror lied—surely it lied. Because Salem Abbott was chaos. She was the splatter of color across his perfectly ordered life, and he refused to let her undo him. He left that night shaken, the image burned into his thoughts like fire through parchment.

He avoided Salem after that. He cut her off with the precision of a blade, cold and cruel and deliberate. He let his words sting, let his distance widen. He thought if he pushed hard enough, she would disappear. He buried himself in Sapphire, in the future he wanted—the future he needed. But Salem didn't fade. She remained, lingering like the scent of rain before a storm, and Orion hated her for it. Hated himself more.

The tension between them grew sharp enough to draw blood. Every glance burned. Every silence thundered. Isla demanded answers. She knew something had changed, though Orion denied it. Her voice chipped at his armor, pushed into the cracks he tried so hard to seal shut.

The truth loomed, inescapable. Salem Abbott had ruined him. And no matter how tightly he held to the life his family had planned, no matter how fiercely he tried to erase her from his world, Orion could not forget what the Mirror had shown him.

His future was with her.

And perhaps the most terrifying thing of all was the realization that he wanted it.

𝓒AST ━━            ❛ silly me to
fall in love with you    ❜ ˚ ༘ . 🗝️

╭ ━━━━ 𓇢𓆸 ━━━━ ╮

╰ ━━━━ 𓇢𓆸 ━━━━ ╯

✶⋆.˚ 𝕺RION  𝕭LACK II ˙⋆✶
𝒊.   ✧ cillian murphy

❛      don't you know i'm no good for you ?
i've learned to lose you, can't afford to     ❜

✶⋆.˚ 𝕾ALEM 𝕬BBOTT ˙⋆✶
𝒊.             ✧             jessica alba

❛      makes me wanna make 'em jealous i'm
the only one who does it how you like         ❜

──── ୨୧ ────
cameron diaz          sapphire fairchild
emma stone lily evans
adam driver severus snape
ben barnes sirius black
aaron taylor johnson   james potter
hugh grant regulus black

❪ constantly updated ❫
──── ୨୧ ────

▌ WARNINGS . . .
this book may contains strong language, injury and mention of death, sad scenes, use of alcol, mentions of sex and overall mature scene. these themes are used for storytelling purposes and are not meant to minimize or trivialize the complexity or seriousness in real life.

▌ DISCLAIMER . . .
All rights to the characters belong to me and of course to j.k rowling !!!
Graphics are mine as well.
This is a work of fiction. the characters in this story are used for narrative purposes only and do not reflect the real-life opinions, experiences, or actions of the actors. any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons is purely coincidental. I KNOW THE FANCAST OF THE MARAUDERS IS A BIT DIFFERENT, BUT YOU HAVE TO TRUST THE PROCESS !!
▌ PUBLISHED . . .
18-12-2024

i apologize for any grammatical mistakes as
english is not my first language 🤍

dedicated to trulyjohnlock sugrcoatjng twsters carefleur kirammour 1-800-JJMAYBANK -pinkmvtter AALUCARRD glenpowells poetickiss3s BRBIECANDID drunkpoeticism rainy-dazed  thank you for the support !!!! ♡

CHAT I'M SO EXCITED ABT THIS STORYYYYYYY !!!!
I'M SO PROUD OF IT SO PLEASE DON'T LET THIS FLOP !!! ( in my flop era 😜 )
hope you'll like it 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
let me know what you think with a comment and leaving a star ⭐️ !!!! thank you for the attention 🩷

©innermoons