batsybaz

[batsybaz]

Christmas Will Wait for Us

Jegulily AU - Christmas 1979 

James’ whispers sound muffled against Lily’s hair, more words than melody, and garbled by a smile as he feels them echoed into the crook of his neck. The pair sways together in lazy synchrony, murmuring the final bars of ���Baby it’s Cold Outside’ before a stuttering needle scratch signals the end of the record. 

 Lily pulls away and James lets her go, gently extricating his limbs from where they so often find themselves entangled nowadays. The soles of his feet throb pleasantly, soft with disuse even with the lively rounds of dancing the pair has turned to to fill these quiet evenings.

 It’s a habit now, the record and their carpet gradually wearing thin, the merry round-and-round hurting less than loneliness and more than the inescapable numbness of waiting. 

James watches as Lily sinks down onto their couch, burying into the thick blankets strewn liberally across it. Her hair looks bright against the vibrant shades of crimson and green. She’s always beautiful, James thinks. Breathtaking even with the awful sickness of the past few weeks and the worry that creases her face deeper with every passing day. 

That worry is present now, eyes suddenly stricken as her smile wavers and quickly falls. 

“Hey.” James is at her side in mere seconds. “You alright love? What’s wrong?”

“It really is cold outside.” Her teeth worry at her lip, biting back the shaking in her voice as she says it, and for a moment James swears he feels the blood freeze in his veins.

“Are you not warm enough?!” 

Lily giggles at the panic in his voice, seemingly despite herself as she bats aside the blanket James thrusts her way. “Baby and I are perfectly toasty, just like the last twenty-one times you boys have fretted this season.” 

Her voice drops to barely a whisper.  “I just-  do you think Reg is in a warm place right now?”

Fuck.

“Lils…I don’t know, if I did I swear I would have told you immediately. You know Dumbledore didn't let him say.”

“I know. I know you would.  It’s just…he-” her voice breaks, and she swallows against the tears threatening to spill. “He hates the cold, and…and the wet. I don’t want him to spend Christmas being miserable.” 

James feels his face fall, painfully aware of Lily’s anguished stare as he fights to rebuild his smile into something vaguely comforting. He swallows hard, and again, until the lump obstructing his throat returns to its usual size nowadays. Barely manageable, but enough so to force words out around it. 

“He won’t. We promised, Christmas won’t happen until he comes home to us.” James’ voice is hoarse. He fiercely holds her gaze, fumbling for her hands before gathering them tight against his chest. “We’ll fight off time together, remember?” 

Regulus’ words feel empty on his tongue, but Lily’s grimace softens all the same. 

She lets James pull her into him, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her face into his chest. He buries his face in her hair, breathing in the subtle scent of Regulus’ shampoo that has become an unspoken comfort for them both. Both his chest and Lily’s hair are wet with tears before James manages to speak again. 

“He’ll come back to us, sweetheart. Our love will come home.”

[batsybaz]

Regulus reads the ransom letter over French toast. There’s a half-grapefruit waiting for him, a cup of aromatic coffee, and a pot of Darjeeling. By all accounts, it’s the perfect breakfast.

Dear Lady Black, the letter reads, in a cursive written by someone who can’t write in cursive, I am sorry to say I have abducted your son, Master Regulus Black. Don’t worry, he is perfectly safe and will remain so, however if you would like to… the letter continues in such a manner. Even Regulus isn’t sure if he’d been kidnapped (sorry, abducted), or if he has simply popped out for a day with an old friend. There is only a vague mention of ransom – never mind the amount – and the man had signed with his full name.

“James Potter?”

“Yes?” the man – James – responds. Perks up.

“That’s really your name? And you put it in the letter?”

“Seemed the polite thing to do.”

“Are you dumb?”

James looks somewhere between affronted and amused. Not how people usually answer to being insulted.

Regulus twirls the fork in his fingers, and it turns into a rather smart – albeit still silver – quill. He’s always been adept at transfiguration. James snags on the movement, takes in a sharp breath. A click of fingers and the parchment turns blank.

To Her Excellence Lady Black, Regulus writes, using his non-dominant hand to obscure his handwriting. The words are rendered in a non-recognisable, but still stunning cursive.

As you are by now no doubt aware, your son Master Regulus Black has been kidnapped. At present he is safe and well. Please see attached a lock of his hair as confirmation.

No physical harm shall befall him, provided you follow the instructions I give you. Should you not, his death will not be swift.

Do not, for any reason, attempt to communicate with the Auror department or any private agency.

Before end of the week, secure 20 thousand galleons in old currency.

The galleons must be placed in a large cigar box, securely closed and wrapped in white paper. Remain at home and alert until midnight on Saturday and await further instructions.

Regulus signs the letter with an unreadable squiggle in place of a name, then twirls the silver quill around his fingers – it turns into a sharp, simple dagger. He cuts off a lock of his hair from behind an ear, where the disruption won’t be visible. Vanity, as always, present.

James stares dumbly as Regulus hands him the hair.

“Secure it and put it in the envelope with the letter.”

“Why?”

“She can see my magical signature in it. Will know that I’m alive and you’re not just trying to extort money for a corpse.”

“Huh,” James looks struck with something. “Clever. Never knew you could do that.” He takes the letter and reads through it, promptly choking on his tea. “20 thousand? Are you insane?”

Regulus doesn’t respond. Changes the dagger back into a fork (and James’ eyes get stuck on that, again), and goes back to his breakfast.

“That’s way too much money.”

“And how much were you going to ask for?”

“I don’t know. Five hundred?”

“Five… five hundred? That’s just insulting. Are you trying to be insulting?”

“What?”

“You think I’m worth five hundred galleons? The heir of the House of Back? Five hundred?”

Regulus is furious. Not only has he been kidnapped (abducted) by a moron: the moron thinks him worthless.

“Five hundred galleons is a lot of money.”

“Sure. If you’re poor,” Regulus argues, “you want five hundred? Here,” he takes the cheapest ring off his fingers and drops it on the table in front of James, “this is worth about double, pawn it and keep the change.”

James twirls the ring around his fingers. “Very pretty,” he smiles, slipping it on, rubbing the little leaf motif engraved in the silver, “you walk around with thousands worth of jewellery on you? Surprised nobody kidnapped you before.”

“I thought I was abducted.”

James looks downright delighted by the answer.

[batsybaz]

rosekiller but they're the lead singers of rival bands, the sexual tension, hate sex, all that. them constantly dissing each other's music in interviews, on twitter, in person, between kisses, on stage and while getting awards.

their fanbases hate eachother, toxic fanbase discourse, doxing eachother for opinions. it's awful. but as all fandoms have, there are shippers, the shippers get the most hate

one day rosekiller just decide that yeah you know what, we've been hooking up for years at this point let's just start dating.

three days after they officially get together Barty walks straight up to Evan and they start making out, full disgusting making out, zero shame, at one of Evan's bands biggest concerts of the tour

the fanbases are in so much shock that they don't even know what to say. twitter trending page is just: WHAT, IM CONFUSED, and ROSEKILLER

rosekiller then immediately announce their engagement on twitter. zero proposal Barty and Evan just decided to get married cause why not

twitter doesn't survive the day

[batsybaz]

shock - @rosekillermicrofic - wc: 426

Evan had been restless all morning.

His classes dragged on, a monotonous blur of half-understood lessons and scribbled notes he didn’t care about. Usually, Barty was there to make snide comments under his breath, pass him cryptic notes, or just—exist in a way that made everything less dull. But today, Barty wasn’t there.

No text. No warning. Just… gone.

Lunch rolled around, and Evan slumped at their usual table, barely picking at his food. Pandora and Dorcas sat across from him, exchanging glances before deciding to intervene.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Pandora prodded, nudging his foot under the table.

“Yeah, you look like someone kicked your puppy,” Dorcas added, stealing a fry from his untouched tray.

Evan just huffed. “Barty’s not here.”

Pandora gasped dramatically. “Oh no! However will we survive?”

Dorcas smirked. “Maybe he finally got arrested.”

Evan glared. “Not funny.”

“Relax, Evan,” Pandora said, shaking her head. “Barty’s like a cockroach. He always comes back.”

Evan rolled his eyes, but before he could respond, a pair of hands suddenly covered his eyes from behind.

"Guess who," came a voice, teasing and unmistakably familiar.

Evan stiffened. He knew that voice. He knew it better than anything.

Slowly, he reached up and pried the hands away, turning around in his seat. And there he was. Barty Crouch Jr., in the flesh.

But something was… different.

His hair, usually a messy disaster, was now buzzed short. Like, really short. Military-precise, as if someone had taken clippers to it with ruthless efficiency. Evan just stared.

Barty grinned, all sharp teeth and amusement. “Don’t look too shocked to see me. I’m not dead.”

Evan blinked. Opened his mouth. Closed it. “What. The. Fuck.”

Dorcas burst out laughing. Pandora gasped. “You cut your hair?!”

Barty shrugged, sliding into the seat next to Evan, as if nothing was unusual. “Technically, my father cut my hair.” He gestured vaguely to his head. “More like ordered it to be cut. Some ‘discipline’ bullshit. But I figured, hey, new look. What do you think?”

Evan just stared.

Barty had always been reckless, wild, untouchable in his own chaotic way. This? This was unnatural. He looked like someone had tried to scrub the rebellion out of him.

Evan reached out, hesitated, then ran a hand over the newly buzzed hair. “It’s awful.”

Barty snorted. “Good. That means I still look like me.”

Evan just huffed. “You look like a boot camp dropout.”

Barty grinned. “And yet, you still can’t stop touching me.”

Evan yanked his hand back as Pandora and Dorcas cackled. “Shut up.”

[batsybaz]

ring - @rosekillermicrofic -background jegulus - word count: 246

“How much does one of those cost?” Barty asked Regulus one day as they sat in Regulus and James’s flat, gossipping over drinks.

“One–one of what?” Regulus asked, looking down to where Barty had gestured, but sure he had been mistaken.”

“Those rings,” Barty replied casually. “I wanna get one for Rosie.”

Regulus blinked. “My…my wedding ring?”

Deciding not to confess that he and James had made each other’s wedding rings for fear that Barty would completely destroy him with words, Regulus focused on his incredulity. “Barty…you’re single. You and Evan aren’t boyfriends.” But then he thought about it and realized that dating and forgetting to tell everyone was a very Barty and Evan thing to do. “Are you?”

“No. Does it matter? I think it’s obvious we’re supposed to get married,” Barty shrugged.

Regulus briefly wondered if he was on one of those Muggle prank shows, but eventually decided that this wasn’t out-of-character enough to be that suspicious. “I suppose,” he sighed.

“Oi, Rosie?” Barty yelled into Evan, who was in the kitchen making mimosas.

Regulus’s heart kicked into triple-time. Was Barty just going to–

“Yeah?”

“We should get married. Like Reg and Potter.”

Of course he was. 

“Sure. Are you free tomorrow?” Evan yelled, voice completely calm.

Barty nodded his head and turned to Regulus. “You free tomorrow? I think we need a witness.”

At this point, he decided to just go with it. “Yeah…I’ll be there,” Regulus mumbled, rethinking his choices in friends.

[batsybaz]

3/24 - skull - word count: 309 - @rosekillermicrofic

“Evan?”

Evan lifted his head from his arms and blinked at his surroundings with all the grace of a bear cub coming out of hibernation. “Five more minutes, mom,” he said, putting his head back down. He heard laughter but thought nothing of it. 

A moment later, when he was blissfully drifting back to sleep, an arm snaked around him, pulling him close. He settled into the warmth with a content sigh. 

He felt a kiss at the crown of his head, then another on his cheek. “Gimme a sec,” he mumbled, and drifted off to sleep again. 

A breath ghosted over the shell of his ear and he startled. He heard a voice whisper: “Rosie, love, wake up.” That must be Barty. He smiled. 

“Mhm.”

Wait, what? Barty?

Barty had been gone for the last month on a mission- something about intercepting communication from the Order in the countryside. Evan didn’t know the specific details - no one was allowed to disclose them - but he could work that much out. 

Evan had been busy on multiple smaller missions- being good at dueling put him closer to the action, usually. 

Separating wasn’t fun for either of them, and Evan dreaded the longer missions. But now-

“You’re back.”

“And you called me ‘mom’.” Evan rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and pulled Barty in with his hand on the back of his neck. Their lips met, and Barty’s hands gripped the hem of Evan’s shirt. Evan broke the kiss first and buried his face into Barty’s neck breathing in the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and lollies.

Barty hugged him tighter and they sank into each other’s warmth and this-

This was as close to heaven as Evan was going to get.

From when they’d first met to when they’d gotten the snake and the skull on their arms, Barty was Evan’s paradise.

[batsybaz]

Them

[batsybaz]

“James!”

[batsybaz]

Evan Rosier- he always appears to be 'oh so bored' with everything, he makes people uneasy by his lack of acknowledgment or care and even the best of teachers stutter by the empty look. He'll throw a puch or two but most of the time he doesn't bother, he'll walk around hogwards at night not for some aesthetic bullshit but bc he's insomniac, he'd have the prettiest eyelashes and the biggest circles under his eyes. He gets bored by people being predictive (that's why he and Barty are far beyond best friends, dating, soulmates, fucking menaces ) would excel at care for magical creatures but he'd hide it bc ya know Slytherins, would be really bad at remembering names and birthdays (even his own) but once he memorieses it he never forgets. Doesn't enjoy reading and finds philosophy posh and bunch of -smart- ass -quotes -of -a -madman, would enjoy horror stories and bit of sci-fi I think, he'd either get black tea or coffee and would wear eyeliner from time to time to piss off people

[batsybaz]

Wrap | 315 Words | @wolfstarmicrofic

Remus stretched his legs out, feet getting tangled in the canvas bag full of food that Sirius had insisted they bring with them in the car. He kicked the bag away as he turned the dial, trying to find a decent radio station.

“I think when we get back I’m going to buy a motorbike,” Sirius said, rolling down his window. His hair, still wet from the shower, began to fly around him, filling the car with the scent of his shampoo.

“Don’t you think you ought to learn to drive a car first?”

Sirius gestured vaguely to the car around them.

Rolling his eyes, Remus replied. “You’ve only just started.”

It was something new, Sirius’ interest in learning how to drive. They were a new thing too, the two of them. Romantically, anyway. Something Remus was still getting used to. Remus’ parents had let them borrow their car for a weekend to meet James and Lily at a little cottage on the beach.

He settled on a station playing Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy, a song he knew Sirius liked, clasping his hands back together and tucking them between his knees.

Sirius began humming along, then singing loudly at the top of his lungs, the sound overtaking even the wind through the open window. Remus rolled his head to the side, watching him as he sang, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Sirius could find someone more handsome. Someone smarter and funnier than Remus, he was sure of it.

“This song’s always made me think of you,” Sirius said, reaching out to pull Remus’ hand out of his lap and lacing their fingers together before returning to his singing.

As Sirius’ fingers wrapped around his, Remus decided that it didn’t matter if he could find someone more handsome, smarter, or funnier, because Sirius was singing to him, and his fingers were shaking too.

[batsybaz]

Psychoanalysing the Black brothers and their kinks (I must scream into the void about this)

Mildly nsfw discussion (re: praise/degradation kink, brief mention of slapping).

Note: These headcanons apply to the very early stages of Sirius’/Regulus’ personal development and relationships. There’s a lot of self-love, introspection (hopefully therapy), and communication that needs to happen between this and their ultimately healthy relationship with kink. This is my own opinion, I’m far from an expert.

Regulus

Loath as he is to admit it, Regulus craves praise. He’s been criticised his entire life, raised so that his entire existence revolves around striving towards the ‘perfect’ ideal. Hearing over and over again that he’s achieved it is the only way he knows to quiet the past that haunts him. Regulus leaves Grimmauld with his sense of self entirely dependent on other people’s evaluations, and he has to work hard to develop his own identity.

Especially in the early stages of a relationship, when he trusts James’ evaluation of himself more than his own, Regulus craves praise.

Sirius

Sirius thrives under degradation. His rebellious personality combines with his upbringing to form a skin impenetrable to criticism, and his sense of self is stubbornly, independently, unshakeable. He doesn’t let anyone dictate how he feels, instead his self-hatred stems from within him; from the mind of a boy so dangerously intelligent he believes most to be too superficial to see the true rot within. He’s idolised by the majority of Hogwarts’ student body and utterly detested by his parents, and neither could be more insignificant to him.

He can trust only James’ intelligence, Peter’s perceptiveness, and Remus’ truth-seeking persistence to know what it means to love him, and only Regulus to feel true hate.

Degradation makes Sirius feel safe, like Remus can see through to the worst, most rotten and depraved parts of him and hold him gently even then. He feels most at peace under hands that punctuate insults with stinging slaps before cradling his face like he’s precious just the same.

[batsybaz]

Hey I said he was a good big brother, not that he wasn’t dramatic and overly desperate to get it right 😂. This man tried everything (with varying levels of success).

Older sibling Sirius gives Regulus the best ‘sex talk’ and I will passionately defend this headcanon

I always see Sirius’ “Don’t breathe a word of your recreational activities in my direction” trope with Jegulus -which don’t get me wrong can be funny- but as an older sibling I just know that Sirius is thrilled when Regulus opens up to him about sex.

This is the moment he’s been waiting for, his heart swells when he realises how much Regulus has grown to trust him and he’ll be damned if Regulus learns to fear his pleasure like their mother raised them to.

He’s giving long and detailed explanations about what goes where and what to realistically expect because he knows Regulus needs every detail possible before braving an unfamiliar situation, he’s drawing diagrams (years of art tutoring finally prove useful), he’s giving passionate speeches about consent (“Calm down Sirius, it’s James.” “Oh, yeah.”), he’s frequenting Madame Pomfrey’s office with lists of questions about sex as a trans person that Regulus would rather throw himself off the Astronomy tower than ask the Healer himself (Pomfrey patiently explains everything and asks no questions of her own as Sirius frantically scribbles down her wisdom).

Sirius is just as open with James, although he leaves the actual gossiping about his sex life to Marlene (there are LIMITS and Marlene will happily gush with James over how hot their partners are).

Anyway, just a ramble about Sirius striving to be the best older sibling he can be after thinking that he lost his brother privileges forever post-Grimmauld.

[batsybaz]

Evan "terrified-of-needles" Rosier

[batsybaz]

Older sibling Sirius gives Regulus the best ‘sex talk’ and I will passionately defend this headcanon

I always see Sirius’ “Don’t breathe a word of your recreational activities in my direction” trope with Jegulus -which don’t get me wrong can be funny- but as an older sibling I just know that Sirius is thrilled when Regulus opens up to him about sex.

This is the moment he’s been waiting for, his heart swells when he realises how much Regulus has grown to trust him and he’ll be damned if Regulus learns to fear his pleasure like their mother raised them to.

He’s giving long and detailed explanations about what goes where and what to realistically expect because he knows Regulus needs every detail possible before braving an unfamiliar situation, he’s drawing diagrams (years of art tutoring finally prove useful), he’s giving passionate speeches about consent (“Calm down Sirius, it’s James.” “Oh, yeah.”), he’s frequenting Madame Pomfrey’s office with lists of questions about sex as a trans person that Regulus would rather throw himself off the Astronomy tower than ask the Healer himself (Pomfrey patiently explains everything and asks no questions of her own as Sirius frantically scribbles down her wisdom).

Sirius is just as open with James, although he leaves the actual gossiping about his sex life to Marlene (there are LIMITS and Marlene will happily gush with James over how hot their partners are).

Anyway, just a ramble about Sirius striving to be the best older sibling he can be after thinking that he lost his brother privileges forever post-Grimmauld.

[batsybaz]

Perhaps I adored you Madly, Extravagantly, Absurdly by MiriamMT? I highly recommend it even if this isn’t the one you mean; it’s an absolute favourite of mine!

PEOPLE I NEED HELP FINDING A FIC

Ok so I don't know when but I read a description of a marauders fic and it was set in the victorian era, and regulus is trans, and sirius sets him up with james because sirius knows this and james and sirius are friends and regulus needs a husband and i don't know what it is called but please i need help to find this fic because it looked really good and I don't know what it is

[batsybaz]

I love this! It’s also adorable in a scenario where Regulus doesn’t know James is an animagus yet and manages to ‘convince’ him that he can’t control the kitten’s behaviour and that it has nothing to do with his human desires.

James knows full well that this is a lie but says nothing in fear of kitten cuddle privileges being revoked.

really love the idea of regulus being oh so mean and cold and detached in his human form but a cutie patootie in his animagus form (little kitty). like he just curls on james’ lap and purrs and meows and licks his cheeks and bites him gently and nudges him with his rosy little nose and

[batsybaz]