#Reg applys them for him

[ratwiththetats]

James getting little star nail stickers so he can be close to Regulus at all times.

[foursaints]

fanonwise i sometimes feel that we don’t treat barty crouch jr’s relationship to his father with the amount of nuance that it’s given in canon.

i see more evidence for their dynamic as one of a prodigal son‘s unexpected betrayal, rather than him being openly defiant from the beginning. barty jr disdains his father more than he fears him.

barty’s character is more about being Stifled than it is about being Penalized, if that makes sense. he is a docile thing on the outside. for a counterexample: sirius continuously rebelled against his parents and was punished for it, over and over. barty is more the case of a child dutifully abiding with something spiteful and ugly growing underneath his surface, larger each passing year.

barty’s revenge, and his anger, and his suffering, are all quiet things: the secret burying of a bone, the forced muteness of imperius. barty doesn’t react when he speaks about his father or sees him in disguise. he admits to never truly considering him a father, seeing more of himself in tom instead.

this is more compelling to me than casting him as a sirius-variant!! it’s a slow type of resentment— leading to torture and ending in revenge— and i like the idea of barty as someone in Waiting. he’s the deferential mirror of a man he doesn’t respect (but never truly, not inside). barty jr was a son raised to take the place of his father: obeying to the letter until he suddenly didn’t, and finally usurping him in the most violent way possible with patricide. his father wanted an heir to replace him and he created a perfect one, in the most tragically ironic way possible!! this will always be more interesting to me than a barty who is plainly defiant from the outset— it flattens him!!

[my-castles-crumbling]

Dimple - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 173 - NSFW and explicit, minors DNI

It took him a while to realize they were there. 

It wasn’t even the first time they had sex that he realized. He was…rather distracted, thank you very much.

But a few weeks later, he saw them for the first time. As he slowly, deliciously, slid into Regulus, making both of them release twin moans that caused a vibration up James’s spine. He spied both dimples on Regulus’s back, the divots in his skin making James almost come right there as he imagined leaning down and biting them.

“Fuck, Reg,” he groaned, sliding his hands over Regulus’s waist and to his hips, until each of his thumbs were pressed into one of the small craters, applying enough pressure to bruise.

But Regulus, who was on his elbows and knees, only keened, pushing even more into James’s rough embrace. “Harder, James,” he moaned, his heat swallowing James’s cock so completely that the older boy’s entire body was on fire with pleasure.

“Anything, baby,” he whispered, beginning to pound into him with earnest, his fingers pressing into the dimples in his back, his heart singing.

[bloodbruise]

Regulus skin gets pink easily

holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck. why have i never thought of this before. you're a genius nonnie.

james finds it so endearing. loves when reg takes a shower and his shoulders and chest flush pink from the heat of the water. it's a look that only james gets to see--regulus soft and tender and at home. loves how his whole body is always a bit rosy in the summer, sunburn never quite fading into a tan like james'. or how he can make the tips of reg's ears burn red when he calls him his boyfriend in front of anyone. james throws around "and my boyfriend will have a black coffee," to the barista at the coffee shop, or a "let me introduce you to my lovely boyfriend," to a new friend, and regulus has to fight against his whole body turning a pleased shade of red.

but as sweet as it is, its also startlingly hot. like how james doesn't even have to try to paint his ass in handprints. a firm hand and a few slaps is all james needs to have reg's ass mottled red and starting to purple. its a heady feeling, to see regulus' cheeks burn, when someone asks him about the red marks that circle the base of his wrists, knowing that they came from the chafe of james' tie binding them. especially delicious when he wraps his hand around regulus' throat and applies just enough pressure to cut the flow of air, so he can leave a beautiful imprint of his hand there.

[rxsilabeth--er]

Trans!reg with a mommy kink tho...

MMMMM, numnumnum! YOU ATE! Face sitting, putting on makeup on Reggie, edging, tit sucking (is that thing?)

Softly as you applied the lipstick to his face, making him as pretty as your heart desires was one thing and completely ruin it by riding and cumming on his face was another and Regulus loved both of them equally since either way he gets to make his love and his mommy feel nice.

like you're don't lower yourself completely on his face and he almost begins crying, "Ah..please! I-I want you, Please-mama!" babbling out randomly words until you softly lower yourself on his face, with his mouth already kissing your clit and making out with your cunt, as you grind yourself down on his puckered-up lips on which you applied lipstick and lipgloss..

The sticky lipgloss leaving imprints on your inner thighs where he kissed and when he was basically making out with your hole, the stickiness provided more friction only causing you to grind under on his face since the friction felt so sweet, almost comparing to his babbles and whines and cries, he sounded so sweet, crying, babbling nonsense,

"Mom-mommy, need-you-this...No-..mmm..fuck- ngh! Ple-ease~" his hands gripping your thighs as you grinned down, cumming and soaking his face.

Getting up with a sickly sweet smile, cooing at his face, lipstick and lip-gloss smudged, mascara running down, hair disheveled, lips glistening, tears on his cheeks, eyeliner and eyeshadow rubbed and messed...

Oh he looked divine and so cute, made you wanna make him cry louder to see if he would sound and look ever cuter with your juices and tears mixed together on his face~

OR

Riding him as he's your own personal dildo, bouncing up and down on his cock as his hands are tied up and his mouth are softly licking and kissing your boobs, leaving hickeys and sucking them softly, trying to calm his sobs of pleasure,

"Hm..mama-ugh, fuck please! More-more! More!!" whining in your ear as you rode him but right before he came you stopped.

Simply settling your weight on top of him and not moving as his tears of pleasure turn into one of frustration as he cried for his mommy to simply move, move and make him feel better if only for a while!!

He promises to be a Good boy~

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As Iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 3:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Jealously. Mentions of masturbation (nothing explicit).

--------------------------------------------------

Despite the initial crash landing, the mission seemed to have been successful and the trip back to Ord Mantell was, so far, uneventful. The ship lay in a sleepy silence, punctuated only by Wrecker’s occasional snoring from where he lay on the ground against Gonky with Omega and Lula tucked safely in his arms. Phee and Tara played a quiet game of Dejarak and Echo sat watchfully in the co-pilot’s chair beside Tech, who was engrossed in something on his datapad until the ship dropped from hyperspace and landed smoothly back on the planet.

Hunter took moments like this whenever he could get them. It was rare to have time to himself, especially now that Omega and you had joined the squad. But right now, rest did not come so easily to him.

Your outburst at Tara, the way you zoned out during his mission brief, not to mention the cold shoulder you'd been giving him for the past few days - it just wasn't like you.

From a tactical perspective - as your squad leader - he knew that he should go and find you as soon as possible, sit you down and demand you tell him what was going on. It was his duty, after all, to make sure his squad was okay both mentally and physically. It was imperative that he knew everything in order to be able to move smoothly and efficiently as a team.

But for some reason, Hunter felt glued to his seat. Something fought that well-trained commando logic from inside of him, pressing upon him, crushing him like a foot on his chest.

Taking a deep breath, he sat up straighter, cracking his neck.

“Emotion is natural. Fear is natural.”

Hunter remembered the words of one of their trainers on Kamino. He'd laughed it off with the rest of the squad. Scared? Genetically enhanced special forces commandos? Not likely. It was so long ago, he barely remembered the lesson. It wasn't important at the time. Maybe it applied to regs, but not to him. Hunter was their leader, their older brother - he couldn't afford that kind of weakness. So why had he suddenly remembered it now?

“They are in every man's very nature, but you're different. You don't have the luxury to dwell on those feelings. You freeze, you die, so train yourself to let it pass. Focus on the task at hand.”

Hunter let the strange emotion pass, willing the weight to lift from his chest

It felt different though, everytime he glanced towards your bunk, he couldn't help but to recall how you felt cradled in his arms. How your breath caught in your throat when you met his eyes. You hadn't even noticed, but he did.

The door to the fresher opened and you stepped out, turning towards him.

Hunter stood, intent on coming to the bottom of whatever this was. A faint, peculiar scent wafted from you. The feeling he’d so skillfully pushed away only moments ago, bubbled to the surface again. It swirled in his stomach, pooling with tangible heat beneath his skin. It made him hungry in a way nothing had before. He shifted uncomfortably, thankful for the way his armor hid the growing bulge in his pants.

Touching your face, feeling your body in his arms, wishing it was anything but the brutality of battle that called you to him.

He’d been with women before - a drunken fling, or a way to blow off steam after a long mission. This was different. You felt different.

He glanced away, shame springing to the surface at the hopelessness of his desires - but he could hear your body tense, and feel you turn away.

Oh gods, she knows.

Maybe it was the moment his hand rested far too long on your knee. You had stared at the gesture - but it was one of the rare moments when he couldn't really tell what you were thinking. Perhaps the way you stiffened signified your discomfort - perhaps he'd misread that small spark in your eyes.

Hunter stood quietly for a moment, opening his mouth as if to call you back to him, but he made no sound. He closed his mouth again, drawing his lips into a frown, codpiece loosening in a melancholy disappointment.

No. I have a job to do.

“Hey,” he called over to you, keeping his voice low so as not to draw attention from the others.

You froze. Oh gods, he can probably hear my heartbeat. He can smell me and I just…. You glanced back at the fresher door.

Oh gods, he knows.

The thought of him was too much. His hands on your skin, his lips on yours, those beautiful amber eyes that bled sincerity and comfort - it was all too much. It was a lie. You had to let it go or you would explode. Finally alone in the fresher, you could close your eyes and imagine that it was his fingers that caressed your sex and not your own. The release you craved had come almost too quickly and now you were left with an empty longing.

“What.” Your reply came sharply, colder than you’d intended.

“Are you okay?”

The question caught you off guard and you nearly found yourself telling him everything.

I can’t do that to him.

Airing the stupid schoolgirl crush you had on him would only serve to make him feel guilty. You didn’t want his pity.

“I’m fine, Hunter.”

I’m not fine, this is killing me.

“Are… are you sure?” He paused, unsure what kind of response he even expected. You sounded tired. “It’s important you let me know if something is bothering you.” he finished.

“I said I’m fine.”

Hunter shook his head, suddenly incensed by the cold rebuttal. There had to be something wrong and he would find out what.

You can fix this, a voice in his head demanded. Man up and fix this. That's your job isn't it?

“What’s going on with you!?” He snapped, visibly frustrated.

That was not what he'd meant to say - or maybe it was. Hunter didn't know anymore.

Immediately he shut his mouth, seeing your expression phase from one of shock, to one of anger that mirrored his own. He just wanted to help! He just wanted to make things better. Why did you have to make it so hard?

“Excuse me!?” Your eyes flashed, matching his frustration with anger of your own.

It forced its way through your veins like red-hot coals.

What the hell am I doing? You thought. Pining away like a lovesick teenager for a man I work with!?

You sighed.

But he’s so much more than that. The feelings you tried so hard to beat down, forced themselves up through your anger like weeds growing in the cracks of a walkway.

You mowed them down. No. It’s a fantasy. It isn’t real. Get it together before someone gets hurt.

Hunter doubled down, “You heard me. I just want to know what your problem is so we can work out whatever it is!”

“My problem!? Oh my gods, Hunter! I’m fine! I told you I’m fine so please just leave me alone!”

Hunter opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to put words to the whirlwind of confusion, grief, and anger that spiraled about him like a storm.

He watched as you spun sharply around and headed out the door.

--------------------------------------------------

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[mistress-violence]

Prompt: Lipstick from @into-the-jeggyverse (August 26)

Word count: 740 words

Pairing: Jegulus (modern AU)

⚠️ Warnings: alcohol consumtion, gender identity issues

Regulus finally managed to get out of the argument about what kind of cheese was the best, which started a whole fight between Sirius and Dorcas, with Remus, James, and Peter as collateral victims. He was out of the madness until they started throwing wine at each other like last time and staining his white shirt again. He walked out of the kitchen of the apartment he shared with James, wanting to go to the balcony to get some air. Instead, he found Marlene, Lily, and Pandora in the living room, on the couch, passing a mirror back and forth and talking about something. Pandora was the first to notice him, and she greeted him with a big smile.

"What are you doing here?" Regulus asked, sitting down in one of the armchairs.

"Marlene brought a whole box of lipsticks from Paris!" Lily said excitedly, pointing to the black round box on the table. "It’s Chanel, can you believe it?".

Lily had a deep red lipstick in her hand, an extremely alluring and elegant shade. For a few seconds, Regulus had been absolutely spellbound. It was beautiful. The shape reminded him of his mother's expensive lipsticks, but she always preferred dark and sober colors. When he was little, Regulus would go to Walburga's room to watch her do her beauty routine, but he would immediately be kicked out. "Boys don't need to concern themselves with women's business," was what he was told before he was sent to his father's office to learn how to be "a proper gentleman." Marlene, with an enviable tenacity, immediately noticed the twinkle in the boy's eyes.

"Do you want to try one too, Regulus?" she asked, but she didn't wait for an answer but directly handed him a small rectangular box.

Regulus hesitated at first, but curiosity tingled through his body. Pandora gave him the mirror, and Lily showed him how to use it. Regulus gulped. He didn't know why he was so nervous; maybe it was because he could hear Walburga's voice in his head again, telling him to stop with this nonsense. Swallowing hard, he opened the lid, rolled off the lipstick, and revealed an even more intense shade of red than Lily's. His hand was shaking slightly, but he placed the mirror in front of him and carefully applied a layer to each of his lips before pressing and rubbing them together.

An even stranger feeling crept up inside him as he looked in the mirror. It was something hard to explain, but it felt warm and nice, like it was meant to be. The girls complimented the perfect color match with his pale skin and his glossy black hair, but the boy couldn't really hear anything around him. He just wanted to touch that reflection a little, to feel its closeness as if it were another human in front of him, not himself. It had been James' voice that had woken him from his reverie.

"Reg, honey, I don't know where I put the corkscrew for..." James said as he was walking into the living room, stopping in mid-sentence when he got a better look at his partner. "Oh, wow... I see I'm interrupting. Sorry, it's just... this shade really suits you well."

Regulus lost himself again, looking James straight in the eyes. He didn't seem disgusted that he, a man, was wearing something so feminine. His chest filled with heat again. Would he have reacted the same if Regulus grew his hair longer as he had wanted for some time? Or if he would wear that skirt he bought a long time ago and kept hidden in the back of the closet, fearing that someone would find out about it? Regulus took a napkin from the table and hastily wiped his lips.

"We were just fooling a little," he said, getting up from the armchair while wiping the last traces of red. "The corkscrew is in the top drawer; I'll go get it."

Regulus wanted to hand the lipstick back to Marlene, but she waved her hand in the air, insisting on keeping it.

"It catches you better than me, Reg; just take the bloody lipstick," she said with a knowing smile on her face.

Regulus gave her a confused look but chose to just nod and put the lipstick in his pocket, thanking Marlene for the gift before heading back into the kitchen to look for the missing corkscrew.

P.S: This microfic is inspired by my experience as a genderfluid person. Everyone's journey in discovering their own gender identity is different and unique. You can read this how you want. Just remember to love yourself even if you don't feel like you don't belong anywhere.

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

so pissed that people have sirius be The Older Brother and take responsibility of regulus' fuck ups and get beat for it and then it's never addressed.

like ? no. he is one year older than regulus. one year, eight months. six hundred and one days. he was a child at the same time as regulus.

when you hc sirius getting punished for a vase regulus broke, make sure you remember that sirius was a barely older than reg. and make sure you remember how much this could potentially fuck him up?

sirius not being able to leave his family behind because of his 'little brother' is fucking horrible - regulus loved the idea of being better than everyone, he loved the pureblood ideologies, he loved everything voldemort stood for, because he willfully joined them at age sixteen. even his parents weren't death eaters, but he was. he did it all because he wanted to, because he wanted to become t his brother he very thing his dear big brother had so openly despised.

constantly getting blamed for other people's mistakes till he just took them on himself. till he saw regulus do something wrong and said i shouldve helped him, i shouldve done better.

when regulus and sirius have their first argument about sirius being a 'blood traitor' he thinks i couldn't save him i couldn't save him but he's only twelve hes not a hero hes a child.

when sirius comes home and sees a death eater vision board on his brother's walls he thinks this is my fault, i couldve led him away.

when regulus takes the mark sirius thinks if only i hadn't left, this wouldn't've happened.

this isnt ?? cute?? this isnt sirius being a great older brother, this is regulus being a fucking coward and hiding behind a boy barely older than him. sirius taking punishment after punishment for regulus doesn't do anything but mean sirius gets punished. and they wouldve been significantly harder on him than their pure angel that was regulus black.

and this cannot have simply only applied to regulus. this must've had fucking long term consequences. he must've blamed himself in fucking hogwarts, too.

when pranks went wrong he apologizes for not keeping an eye on filch, when remus gets a bad grade he promises he won't follow remus in the library anymore, when james gets hexed by his cousins sirius begs him not to go after them again and says im sorry till his tongue's numb, when peter kills james and lily he screams till his throat gives out.

i have sm to say but i dont know how to whatever ill just reblog and yap later.

[miriammctroi]

Fic Scrap: Forced Marriage, second chance, Trans-Reg & Simp James

James meets Regulus pre Transitioning when he convinces his family to vacation in the same place as Sirius’s.

He falls in love INSTANTLY

They are 15 and 16 and he looks at Reg and immediately tries to woo him & prepares speeches to ask Sirius for his blessing. They have a short summer fling that neither Sirius nor his parents find out about. The Blacks forbid their children from associating with the Potters anyway.

Sirius runs away at some point. The Blacks are in a hurry to marry off Regulus to another prestigious family.

James didn't have contact with Reg in those years but he shows up before the wedding and begs him to run away with him, like Sirius.

Regulus confesses that he doesn't want to get married but he feels trapped and fears for his safety if he doesn't do it.

Then he confesses that he is trans. James is the first person he tells about it.

James promises to give him a life as a man, do anything in his power to protect him and give him what he wants. He reminds him of their summer and that he has been dreaming about being with him since then.

In the end they kiss, but Regulus can't go through with running away.

He gets married.

James is heartbroken.

Two years later, he gets a call out of nowhere.

"James?" The voice is quiet, shy even. Oddly familiar but he can't place it.

"Yes? Who is this?"

"It's, uhm, ... it's me."

James is about to ask who, when the recognition zaps through his body, making him sit up straight and half get out of his chair.

He almost says the name he has always known him as, but remembering his confession on his wedding day, he decides against it.

"You," He whispered. "Is it really..."

"Yes."

James closes his eyes at this voice. He has missed it far more than reasonable for a teenage summer fling and a kiss at his wedding to someone else.

"How are you?"

"Good. ...No, great. Fantastic even."

He hears a smile in his voice. He rarely ever smiled.

"I just applied for a divorce."

This pulls him out of his office chair fully. Unable - and unwilling - to hide his excitement he asks, "Divorce?"

"Yes. My parents died and... I felt like it was now or never. ...I decided it was now."

"Oh my god, I'm so proud of you. I'm so happy for you."

There is a chuckle. James has only ever heard him chuckle once before. He wants to drink up that sound.

"I was wondering if you'd... like to go to dinner with me. So, I can tell you the details, if you want to hear them."

"I'd love to. Tonight? I'm off work at 6, I could meet you at seven or half past."

"Let's make it eight. I'll send you the address after I made the reservation."

"Lovely. I can't wait to see you again."

"Me neither."

James’s heart skips a beat.

"Are you safe?"

"Yes. Don't worry about me. ...I guess I should let you go back to work. I don't want to take up too much of your time."

"No, please, take up all my time. It's been so long since I've heard your voice. Tell me something, anything."

"Okay... uhm, I made some decisions about my life going forward. Would you like to hear them?"

"In great detail."

Another chuckle. "I'll leave the details for the dinner. For now, it is this: I want to be called Regulus. I want to go on T, oficially change my name and sex, go back to my old surname, at least for a little while. I want to have top surgery. I want to get my own flat. I want to adopt at least two cats. I want to go to university, study something, get a job, earn money. I want to learn things and have hobbies that have nothing to do with chores. ... I want to kiss you."

His heart seemed determined to make up for the lost beats by doubling and tripling in speed.

"I want to kiss you in a very, very messy, improper and gay way. ...would that be okay with you?"

"Okay?" James half laughed, trying not to have a heart attack from pure joy. "Regulus. Regulus, Regulus, I vow that I will not rest until every dream and wish of yours is fulfilled."

"Good," Regulus said, and James could hear his relief. "I should go now. I'll see you tonight."

"Yes, yes you will, Regulus."

"Good. ...bye."

"Bye."

They don't hang up. They can't. They have to say good bye four times more until they finally hang up. James skips through the office, a large grin plastered on his face, telling anyone who doesn't want to hear it how he had a date with the most gorgeous person to ever walk the earth tonight.

When he finally arrives at the restaurant, he sees Regulus with short hair and a suit that doesn't belong to him and he knows this will be his future husband. And their wedding will be much grander and happier than Regulus’s first one.

[meowmeowriley]

Elder Emo

Ghost had been lost in thought, planning out his lessons for the following day, when he'd passed a room in the barracks and faintly heard music. Paramore? Normally he'd hear rock, pop, or occasionally something in Japanese. Not emo. Not what he'd been expecting, but a pleasant little throwback for him. He smiled to himself as he made to walk away, taking a mental note to pull up his old playlist and get lost in nostalgia later. But then he caught a bit of the conversation happening in the room.

"No she didn't tell me what it was all for, I stole it, dipshit."

"Why does she need 700 different eyeliners?"

"Are they different? Or is she just a hoarder?"

"Nah, mate. Some are like sticks, crayons, others are liquid. This one says eyeliner, but it looks like the eyeshadow stuff."

"That eyeshadow stuff is useless. Comes off too easily."

The two men were crowded around one's bed, it had been littered with a bunch of makeup, and they didn't seem to know what each was for.

"This is stupid."

"You said you wanted to finally have your emo phase, this is where it starts." The second man picked up a bottle of liquid eyeliner and leaned in close to the mirror, posed to paint his lower waterline with it. Ghost could no longer keep quiet.

"That's a mistake." His voice cause both recruits to jump, scrambling to salute. He rolled his eyes, but returned the gesture, if only to release the two.

He approached the bed scattered with makeup. Ghost couldn't say that he'd ever spoke to either of them, but he'd be damned if he didn't set them on the right path before they fucked themselves over here. "The liquid is for around your eyes, gives a bolder look than the stick. It's not for your waterline, you'll give yourself an eye infection like that." He handed the first soldier his choice in liner from the menagerie before them. "The liquid is bolder, but it smears, not smudges. If you're going for emo, you'll want a smudged look, the stick is better. Lay it on thick, and use your fingers to spread it around and smudge it out. And if it says waterproof, believe it. You'll need makeup remover to get that off." He said that last bit pointedly. If it weren't for regs, he'd let them just leave it like he had. Day old eyeliner that you slept in after a concert always looked so much cooler than when it had been freshly applied, at least in his opinion. Then another thought occurred to him. "Who'd you steal all this from?"

"Uhm... my sister... sir." The first man admitted sheepishly.

"Hmmm." Better a sibling than another soldier. "Give it back. You're in the army. You've been issued war paint, use that." He shrugged. Then added "I do."

The pair were quiet, clearly still not quite sure what was happening. "As you were." Ghost nodded and started to take his leave.

The second cleared his throat. "Uh... ahem... any uh... any music recommendations?"

Ghost turned in the doorway. He thought for a moment, and then "Well, you're listening to Paramore. If you want music from the same time, there's always Hawthorne Heights or Blink-182. You want something heavier look into Breaking Benjamin. Or more upbeat go for All Time Low. If you want something newer, Twenty One Pilots just released some new songs, or there's TX2, who draws a lot of inspiration from the greats. That's a start."

Both men smiled. The first spoke up. "Thank you, sir. This'll be a lot easier with an elder emo around."

Elder emo? Who- oh. Ohhhhh. When? How did that happen? He wasn't supposed to make it this far. Huh.

"Anytime." He nodded as he left them. He tried not to let his emotions show as he made his way down the hall, but internally he was brimming with pride. He'd made it so much further than anyone had ever thought, especially himself. It took a couple of baby emo's for him to see it, but he'd made it. He was still here. Despite the odds.

[iguessit-sgrace]

moonlit corridors

a regulily microfic

~~~

“You have something of mine,” Regulus called softly. Lily paused on her way up the stairs and looked back at him, a ripple of confusion across her freckled features. Her lower lip jutted out just slightly and her eyebrows furrowed, almost as if in a pout. Regulus wanted to carve that expression into the finest marble, to capture it forever. The essence of beauty.

“Your jumper?” she asked, looking down at the dark green sweater she was wearing. She bit her lip and looked slightly crestfallen. “I thought you said I... never mind, you can have it back.”

She started to remove it, but Regulus reached up and stilled her arm. 

“No, love,” he murmured, gently pulling her arm back down. She tilted her head slightly, almost like a doe. 

“Then what?” she whispered, red strands of hair falling in front of her eyes. Regulus brushed them away. 

“You have my heart.”

Lily’s breath caught. 

“Take good care of it, please. It’s quite fragile,” he admitted, not breaking eye contact with her. Green eyes, shining like emeralds, looked back into his own. 

“You have mine too,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper in the night air. “I suppose we’ve exchanged.”

“One heart for another.” Regulus’s hand found hers. “A fair trade.”

“A risky one.”

“I quite enjoy risks.”

Lily’s lips curved into a smile. “So do I,” she agreed.

Regulus found himself smiling back at her. He kissed her fingertips, her palm, the back of her hand. Each was featherlight. Each held a thousand promises. Her hands were soft, so soft. Soft like an owl's wing. Soft like unmolded clay. They smelled faintly of the strawberry lotion he had often seen her apply. 

He wondered if her lips tasted like strawberries too.

“Good night, Reg,” Lily said softly. She leaned over and brushed a kiss against his cheek. She looked radiant in the moonlight. Like a goddess.

“Good night, Lily.”

She whispered something in his ear, her voice as light as the breeze. Then she leaned back and smiled. With a small wave, she retreated up the stairs and disappeared behind the portrait. 

Regulus’s fingers traced the glossy mark left on his cheek, which he was sure was glowing. 

“You don’t just have my heart, love. You have my soul.”

With Lily’s promise echoing in his mind, he began the walk back to the Slytherin dormitories, the moonlight in the corridors guiding his way.

[levi-venn]

Been having Thoughts about the Mirror Batch! I picture Void and Memento with black hair (like most of the regs), and I picture Headshot with gray hair a couple shades darker than Crosshair's. Do you have any headcanons about what they look like? Or if they have any tattoos?

I'm so happy you asked! Here's your answer below. For anyone curious about these OCs, here is more information on The Mirror Squad

Physical Appearance of the Mirror Squad

Striker

It isn’t often Striker is found without his helmet and his jumpsuit which helps regulate his hypersensitive senses. However, his helmet and suit can’t protect him from the sensory overload of his own hair. For this reason, Striker isn’t just bald. He is hairless. He has pale thin cuts over his body from shakily and obsessively shaving any hair he can find. Circuit crafted a laser hair-removal device for his brother to protect his skin from that dangerous obsession.

Striker has no tattoos.

His eyes are a stormy light gray that constantly bounce around his surroundings, drawn to every sound and flicker of light that isn’t often heard or seen by his brothers.

Circuit

We actually get to see Cryptid-style images of Circuit in the series finale of Bad Batch. While Circuit's hair is cut short here, Circuit's hair tends to be up in a messy bun, his face scruffy from sheer disinterest in personal grooming until Headshot tells him to clean up. His hair is salt and pepper, the white strands borne from the stress of his augmentations. 

Circuit is a brilliant artist and is covered in tattoos he applies himself. The gentle buzzing and the consistent rhythmic pain allieviates the stress of his overactive mind and calm his twitchy body.

While his skin heals, Crunch happily volunteers as his “canvas” and will sit for hours while Circuit tattoos his brother. Circuit's tattoos are a series of colorful vectors, geometric shapes, a strings of lime green binary that spell out things like “I joined the GAR and all I got was insomnia and this tattoo” and “If found, return to Crunch”

Circuit is leaner than his brothers teetering on underweight due to an instable, high metabolism and nausea caused by sleep deprivation.

Crunch

Crunch's pigment is lighter than his brothers, more freckled, with sandy blonde buzz cut and a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes are dark brown that are rumored to turn black when he is in "Rampage Mode", though this is mostly due to extreme pupil dilation.

Most of Crunch's body is tattooed at this point thanks to Circuit. Crunch’s favorite tattoo is on his chest of a Rancor wearing a rainbow party hat sitting next to a broken growth jar eating uj cake. This was a surprise tattoo from Circuit for Crunch's "Growth Jar Day", a holiday only Circuit and Crunch celebrate. 

Void

Void, our Eerily Calm Soldier, has no tattoos as he does not see the point in them. “The body is a decaying vessel, temporary like everything else.” Void does, however, see the point in paying special attention to his hair. In fact, Void is obsessive about his coal-black hair (black hair in honor of Fanfictasia's suggestion!), sculpting it daily into a short, narrow mohawk. His facial hair is meticulously groomed into a devilishly thin mustache with a stripe of hair on his chin.

Void has a multi-branched, red lightning scar on the right side of his chest that travels up his shoulder. The scar is from a mission gone wrong that resulted in Headshot saving his life, earning a permanent scar himself. Void never speaks of that mission, but he refused medical treatment of his own scar, wishing it to be permanent. It was a souvenir of the time Headshot saved his life.

Nothing "moves" Void emotionally, but Headshot's self-sacrifice was a fascinating event he thinks of often.

Headshot (CX-2)

Above is concept art for CX-2 ("Sniper Clone") by Dawn Carlos for the official Star Wars Bad Batch Episode Guide.

Headshot is the only Mirror Squad member that kept his appearance as close to a Regulation Clone as possible. It helped diffuse tension between his brothers and the Regs since the Regs saw him as a “familiar face”. This conscious choice was also part of his larger plan to convince more Regs to defecting from the GAR (a plan that ultimately sealed his and his squad's fate to be put On Ice, their memories wiped, and become CX Troopers).

Headshot's facial scar came from an IG-100 MagnaGuard's electro staff, a scar he earned saving Void from a fatal blow. Under normal circumstances, Void doesn’t aid his squad unless directed by Headshot, but on this mission the injured Void scooped up his unconscious brother and carried him back to base himself. Void nursed Headshot back to health personally, firing warning shots at any medics who tried to approach. 

Most of Headshot’s wound healed, leaving only a single long facial scar.

Void never talks about the incident, but the squad noticed Void was quicker to obey Headshot's directions after that day.

***

Thank you again for the ask @fanfictasia. These characters are so much fun to explore and they develop just a little more with every ask!

[yanderewritingdump]

Your shy neighbor definitely knows you heard him through those thin walls. (Part 1)

MDNI, no pronouns used but implied female reader, no smut this chapter but Reg is thirsty. Mention of a mouse.

I've got no clue where I'm going with this tbh.

Reg knows you heard him. Every time he sees you now your face flushes such a pretty color and you can't manage to look him in the eye when you greet him the handful of times you've crossed paths in the past week.

He'd feel embarrassed about it, but the way you were eyeing him in the rarely working elevator door's reflection makes him want to do it again. He’d make sure that you got to hear your name loud and clear while he got off. He especially likes the way your eyes linger on his hips and thighs. He wasn’t the most muscular man by any means, but he knew he was strong enough to manhandle you and fuck you any way you asked.

And he wanted you to ask.

Some part of him pondered on the how it was kind of messed up that he found it harder to say anything to you than have you listen to him through the wall while he came, but he was kind of messed up. That was the only way he could explain how he needed to find a reason to be outside of his apartment to look at you every time it sounded like you were about to leave yours. He was starting to wonder about putting some sort of plant out in front of his door just to have one more reason to be out there. If he grew flowers, would you make a comment to him and tell him how pretty they were?

Reg watched you sneak glances at him in the doors’ reflection two more times. He was too mesmerized by the smell of your perfume and soap swirling around him to be subtle about how he was looking at you. He wanted to cup your ass as perfectly as your dark pants. He wanted to see how pretty your new lipstick looked when it was smeared from his kisses. What would your carefully applied makeup look like after he buried his face between your thighs until you pushed him away? He might frame the stained bedding just so he could look at it and think about the feeling of your thighs pressed against his ears and how you taste. He wanted you, in his life, in his arms, in his bed. He wanted you like he wanted his next breath.

It was only once the elevator dinged for your floor that he noticed your flushed face pointedly turned away and caught sight of his dark, intense look. His long, disheveled hair and the sleepless, sunken look of his eyes made him look more threatening than inviting. Especially with the way he was gripping the railing on either side of his hips hard enough to make his knuckles blanch and his vein to pop. At least the thick fabric of his jeans and rumpled shirt lessened how obvious his growing arousal was.

It was not a picture that made him look safe. Or sane.

He was cursing himself as you hurried off, taking long strides to reach your apartment faster without looking back at him. He wanted to chase after you, tell you that he would never hurt you, but that would probably make it worse. Maybe he could knock on your door later and say that he had gotten too many of your favorite cupcakes from a client and couldn’t eat them all to make you think he was nicer. Not that you needed to know that he kept a batch in his freezer just because he had heard you complain to a friend that they were so good but too expensive for you to get regularly.

Obviously, he messed up somewhere, and he would die if you started avoiding him or thought he was dangerous to you.

He set the cupcakes out to thaw once he slunk into his own apartment. It would be more plausible if he didn’t hand you cupcakes that were frozen solid, right? He should probably shower and shave too, make a slightly better impression on you than when he was staring at you and fantasizing about how your makeup would stain his bedding.

About the time he had decided on his plan and taken his shirt off, you screamed.

You were potentially a little too easily startled. Typically, you could manage to just yelp or jump a little, but realizing something small and fuzzy happily gnawing on the snack you were reaching for on your counter was enough for an actual scream. You were having a stare down with the small rodent you thought might be a mouse. Clutching a hand over your chest, you wondered if your housekeeping had given you a rodent problem, when your front door slammed open. There was your neighbor, shirtless and even more rumpled looking than he had been when he looked like he was undressing you in his mind. His dark eyes were wide as he found you standing in the kitchen unharmed.

“Are you okay?” he asked, scanning your body before looking around your cluttered apartment. That might have been the first time that he had actually spoken to you in the three months that you’d lived beside him, and the low, husky quality of his voice caught you a little off guard.

You felt the embarrassed flush start creeping up your neck as he took in the state of your apartment. “Uh, yeah,” you managed weakly, trying to keep your eyes away from dangerous new territory available to you. “Yeah, sorry. I got surprised by an unwelcome guest.” You chewed your lip, looking back at the rodent, who surprisingly seemed undisturbed by the noise as it turned back to the bag of dried fruit it had chewed open. Your neighbor made a noise of understanding when he followed your gaze to the little brown creature gnawing away. You glanced back at him, flustered at his presence in your home after the frankly pornographic noises you had heard last week, the look he had given you minutes ago, and the fact he had burst in. Now you would have to ask him to get the rodent out of your apartment like a wimp because you really, really didn’t want to have to touch it and get potentially get bitten because you didn’t know how to handle it or what it may have had. “I-I hate to ask, but do you think you could get it out of here?”

You didn’t want to seem lame. He was attractive in a messy, sleep derived way. And . If he’d seemed any more approachable, you would have flirted with him.

He nodded briskly, squeezing past you into the kitchen. His chest brushed against yours, despite his best intentions it seemed, and heat and the smell of coffee wafted off of him. He scooped the creature up with a practiced hand, and you back out of the way, mystified as he walked out of your apartment and turned in the direction of your other neighbor. He didn’t say a word as he knocked on the door and handed the creature to a girl that looked to be in middle school. He did manage to grunt out, “You’re welcome,” when she cradled the animal and thanked him for finding “Minnie.”

Of course it was a pet mouse named Minnie. You were just glad you hadn’t had a more violent reaction to finding it and that your neighbor had known about it.

You lightly caught his elbow as he moved to go back to his home. “Thank you. I probably would have set Minnie outside to be hawk food if I had caught her,” you murmured, hopefully low enough for the girl not to hear you.

He shrugged, dark eyes looking down at you a little too intensely for a moment. “It’s nothing. Here’s my number. Next time something happens, call me. I’m good at getting rid of pests.”

[messrsrarchives]

13, 16, 17!

ask game

13. worst blorbification (had to google wtf this means)

AGAIN, all personal but wally. specifically where wally is given some kind of redemption arc or tragic backstory.

and i GET IT. and i know it's for exploration and understanding and fun rather than justification but "🥺she missed them 🥺 she loved them 🥺 she was abused too and wanted to do better 🥺"

and she didn't !!! she didn't do better !!! and i physically can't find it within myself to emphasise with her and i am 100% projecting but the babygirlification of walburga makes me want to scream and cry and i cannot with the whole "the abused becomes the abuser" exploration of abusers because like YES okay yes, you are a product of your environment but i personally cannot whatsoever and i'm now hoping i understood what blorbification means,,, google essentially said babygirling. (also applies to orion too but i feel like i see it more with wally)

but also i do WANT to read more of her so i can tryyy to understand it but there's a lot of the "it's misogynistic to hate walburga" attitude on tiktok and they'll follow it up with headcanons and i'm like 🧍🏻‍♂️🧍🏻‍♂️🧍🏻‍♂️ no i'm going to continue hating her actually,,, because she's an abuser. not because she's a woman.

16. something i don't understand is liked so much

i'm actually really struggling to say something here because i can see everything to some extent. i'm gonna go with a weak answer because i also enjoy it BUT sirius hating james and reg for getting together headcanon - i think he'd be SO happy??? maybe it would take him a bit to understand and to learn how it happened, but i think he'd be so glad that his brother is loved by the person who taught him the definition of the word. i think he'd be happy that if he wasn't there to love regulus, james was.

and then my other answer is literally just canon compliance. put those people into A Situation. Any Situation. with No Base for it. i love it. "where did this even come from?" the lovely deranged mind of an obsessive fan online??? where else of course???

17. more of this fic/art

GIVE ME MORE AVERAGE SEX ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ give me more mediocre everyday sex ‼️‼️‼️ give me awkward fumbling ‼️‼️‼️ give me an awkward "you like that?" "yeah... :/." ‼️‼️‼️ give me a "how was it?" "alright" ‼️‼️‼️

"this is the best sex i've ever ha-" WRONG. it was mediocre. you shall have to practice. a lot. so much. you shall be average before you reach perfection. you shall learn each others bodies as though it were ancient runes and you're not yet sure of the angles or how they fit together.

in particular, james. james being mediocre until reg and reg is like 🤨 i see great potential here. i shall unlock it.

(also bring back text fics pls x)

[crimsonlovebartylus]

hello! It's been like 3 days since you posted the restaurant au and idk why all of a sudden I'm sending you an ask about it but I'll have you know that au has not left my mind for a SECOND for those three days

But! Just a tiny add-in if ur okay with that where during slower hours Barty would go up to Regulus and ask for clarification on tickets Reg would write for customers' seating and it would just be explanations for the dumbest things like "Is that a 4 or a 9?" or "What abbreviation is that?" because Barty knows it would piss Reg off and he finds it amusing. It's even funnier since you HC them both being Spanish speakers.

Also when Barty brings up the little tray with money/card from customers to the front desk where Regulus also works, he stays just for a little longer to chat, especially when it's slow and he's not in a rush lol

this is def just me applying my workplace stuff to bartylus to cope

okay thats all lol hope ur having a good day! <3

I actually agree with this.

or when Regulus is passing through BOH and about to yell "Corner!" and Barty is already waiting there to bump into him on purpose because he wants an excuse to grab his waist.

Regulus purposely giving Barty the birthday tables because he enjoys seeing him sing Happy Birthday, while Barty is glaring at him from a distance.

this is bringing back my hostess era

[invisibleraven]

"Is it okay if I sleep here tonight?"

peterpatterlina

Luke had just slipped in the bed, meaning Julie could put up her book and turn off the light when a knock sounded at the door.

"I'll get it," Luke said with a sigh, throwing back the covers.

"It's probably one of the neighbours being drunk again," Julie stated. It had happened more than once, meaning they had become on first name basis with the maintenance guy who could let people in when they misplaced their keys. Julie still wasn't sure why they always came to them though.

"I'm gonna start charging them for the phone call, or making key copies," Luke joked, ambling off towards the door. But then he called out. "Boss?"

Julie got out of bed, wondering what was going on, and then gasped when she came into the main part of the apartment. "Reggie?"

"Hey Jules," he said, though his lip was swollen, his eye was blackening, and his hands looked worse for wear. "Is it okay if I sleep here tonight?"

Luke helped Reggie to the couch while Julie grabbed the first aid box, cleaning Reggie's knuckles. "What happened?"

"Someone tried to mug me," Reggie replied. "Don't think he was expecting me to fight back."

"Looks like he recovered soon enough."

"You should see him," Reggie quipped, hissing as he held the ice pack to his face. "Though the cops might not let you."

Luke sighed, applying bandages. "Reg, you could have run away. Let him have the like five bucks in your wallet."

"You know I've never been one to walk away from a fight," Reggie replied.

They did know that-it had meant that Reggie got himself and Alfie away from their abusive dad early, out of bad foster situations, and eventually living with Julie's aunt. It meant that he got them both out of potential bar brawls and away from overzealous fans, with no regards for himself.

"Your face won't thank you for it in the morning," Julie commented, adjusting the ice pack.

"I've had worse."

Luke sent Julie a look then-they had tried, and failed for ages now trying to let Reggie know he didn't need to fight, that it was okay to run away. To run to them. But he never seemed to get it, and as much as they wanted to wrap him up in their arms to keep him safe and make him feel loved, they couldn't force it.

"Well let's get you into something comfy and go to bed," Luke said, going to fetch a pair of his sweats for him.

"I can just sleep out here," Reggie said.

"Reggie we have an oversized bed, and with how beat up you are I am not letting you sleep on this couch," Julie said, adamant. The couch had come with the place and was supremely uncomfortable, but they didn't have the cash flow to replace it just yet.

Reggie didn't even try to protest-he had napped on this couch more than once, and having the option of the bed was one he didn't have the energy to fight. He let Luke help him change, and Julie shove him into the bed, the two of them curled up around him.

"Thanks for letting me stay," he whispered into the dark.

"You know you're welcome any time," Luke said, tossing an arm around his waist.

"You can stay forever if you like," Julie said, her head seeking comfort against his shoulder.

Reggie held back a snort at that-it wasn't the first time Julie had made such an offer, and each time it never failed to hurt. Because he knew she was only saying it to be nice. There was no place for him between her and Luke-even as much as he wanted her offer to be real. For this to be the place that he fell asleep every night and woke up every morning.

Instead he let himself enjoy this small bit of fantasy, falling into sleep, and hoping he got to enjoy this dream for a little bit longer.