#and he can’t even say it he can’t even tell reg why he���s there

[theemporium]

hii!! saw u asking for requests and i haven’t been able to get this idea out of my head! poly!marauders with a s/o that’s like really good looking so wherever they go people look at her and they get all pouty and whiny until barty, evan and reg all come up to her and kiss her cheek and are like “we still on for tonight?” AND THE MARAUDERS AFE LIKE ???? WYM🤨🤨😤😤 and she’s like “oh! we’re having a sleepover!” and they’re like, “well now we’re joining” but she says no so they sneak into the slytherin dorms to see her and the skittles smoking weed and just laying around and they basically just hang out with them even though they’re jealous 😭🤭🤣

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

It was comically ironic how bad your boys were at sharing. 

Not with each other, of course. They had no problem sharing with each other, whether it meant alternating whose bed you slept in or who chose the date night for the week. Funnily enough, the topic of sharing and the odd nature of your relationship was never something the boys ever struggled with. In a sense, their friendship was only brought close together through it all. 

But sharing you with others? That was a whole different story. 

Despite as much as it displeased them, you were a social butterfly. You liked to reach out and make friends. The house or class status never mattered to you—people were people and that’s how you treated them. 

It didn’t help that your smile was warm and comforting, or the fact that the majority of the school student body had heart eyes for you. It was never an issue before because the boys knew you were theirs, they knew they snatched you when nobody else could. 

That security in the relationship quickly spiralled out of control with your growing, buddying friendship with the Slytherin boys. 

It started off as sitting next to Barty during one of your classes. A harmless seating plan that sat you next to the boy who seemed a bit grouchy—no pun intended towards his name. A friendship blossomed, which extended towards the small group Barty kept close to him and before you knew it, you found yourself having a little membership too. 

The boys weren’t amused. Not at all. You had dealt with their fits of jealousy here and there, but this was beyond that—this reached levels of pettiness you had never witnessed before. 

“This is ridiculous,” you stated, biting back your giggles as you watched your three boys shuffle into the room without a bother in the world. 

“I can’t imagine what you’d call ridiculous,” Sirius dismissed as he settled on the bed behind you, leaning over the edge to press a kiss to the top of your head. “We just wanted to hang out with our girl.” 

You leaned your head back, shooting the boy a look. “I told you I was having a sleepover tonight.”

“You didn’t tell us who,” Sirius countered. 

“Does it matter?” you asked. 

“I believe my brother is jealous,” Regulus commented, sitting across from you with a joint between his fingers that had been passed around the group before the boys arrived. 

“You are jealous?” you asked, your eyes filtering over each of the boys. 

“It’s hardly jealousy,” Sirius scoffed. 

“We just missed you,” James stated. 

“You saw me less than two hours ago,” you retorted. 

Remus shrugged. “I don’t see why we can’t join.”

You shook your head, though your amusement was clear. “You lot are a pain in my ass.” 

“We love you too, baby,” Sirius grinned as he leaned down, this time pressing a kiss to your lips. You could feel his smile grow when his brother let out a disgusted noise. 

“You’re going to scare away my friends,” you murmured with a playful pout. 

“Good,” James said as he shuffled over to you, happily laying his head down on your lap and grinning up at you. “Means we get to keep you to ourselves.” 

“Jealous bastards,” you huffed out a laugh. 

“Your jealous bastards, sweetheart,” Remus murmured with a hint of a smirk, unashamed in his words. 

Regulus blanched. “You guys can’t stay if you’re gonna try snogging her the whole night.” 

Sirius only grinned. “Shut up, Reggie, or we will try shagging her instead.”

.

[mandos-mind-trick]

The Initiation

Summary: Echo doesn't quite know what he's getting himself into when he joins Clone Force 99. He definitely doesn't expect what goes on behind closed doors with their beloved medic.

Pairing: Poly Bad Batch x reader (no clonecest whatsoever)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, group sex, kind of an orgy, reverse harem, brief glimpse of the author's glove kink, masturbation, exhibitionism, oral, spitroasting, Wrecker's big dick, unprotected sex, creampies galore, squirting, Hunter loves feeding reader's praise kink, Hunter's a bit of a dom, this is utter filth someone get me holy water i need to drink it.

A/N: *sweats nervously once more* Don't ask where this came from. I'm not sure you want to know. I...have no excuse. If you need me, I'll be in horny prison.

MASTERLIST

Echo notices not long after he joins them. 

He feels more at home with Clone Force 99 than he would have back with the 501st. The “regs” they called them. Even on the cramped ship that’s too small already, he feels a sense of comfort. Of course, in such cramped quarters, it doesn’t take him long to notice things. 

You, the squad’s medic, had been the most welcoming at first. You had been there, on Skako Minor, waiting with the ship for them to return. You’d spoken so softly, so sweetly to him, talking him through everything as you scanned his body for potential injuries. You’d wrapped him in a blanket, warming his frosted skin as much as physically possible. You hadn’t done any more than you needed to, not wanting to cause him any more stress than he was already feeling. 

He hadn’t fallen in love in that moment, per se, but he had grown to like you first, before the others. 

That wasn’t entirely the reason why he noticed it so quickly. 

It was hard to miss. 

The first were the touches. In close quarters it was hard to avoid sometimes, but this was more than that. Most recently had been coming in to land for their latest mission. You had been standing next to the seat Hunter was sitting in, in the cockpit. He had slipped a hand between your legs to grip your inner thigh and tug you closer to him. It had been far too high to be only Hunter keeping you steady as Tech expertly landed the ship. 

You hadn’t seemed to care at all. 

Then the proximity. You stood close to them. Very close. Even Crosshair who kept as much personal space as possible allowed you to break into that circle. 

It wasn’t just you. They hovered as well, standing closer than regulation would approve of when you talked, sometimes so close you had to be breathing the same air. 

Then the lingering glances. When you passed by them, their eyes would follow. When you were busy taking inventory, sorting through supplies, reading away at your datapad, they’d be sitting watching you. Their eyes would trail your form, very visible beneath your tactical suit. You don’t go out into the field with them, but due to their status as an independent squad, you wore tactical gear instead of the normal civilian medic scrubs. It had been modified, slightly of course, thanks to Tech. Despite the fact you never saw any combat, you had greater protection around vital areas just in case. 

Something’s going on. Something more than just the closeness of a squad. Something they’re all in on. He’s too afraid to ask. 

Maybe he should have. 

***

His first experience in Clone Force 99’s barracks is...something. It’s messy, as the Marauder is. There’s a smell too, something he can’t quite place. Something bad. None of the others even seem to notice, not even you. You toss your bag onto the couch before sitting at the table, leaning your back against it. 

“We can rig up something for you, if you don’t want to sleep on the couch.” Hunter tells him, setting his own pack down. 

His gaze flickers to you. There’s only four bunks. He doesn’t want to take your spot if that’s where you sleep. “But what about-” 

“I rotate bunks.” You say, lips curling up in a smirk. 

Hunter says your name, a warning growl in his voice. Echo’s only heard that tone once from him, when Tech had made a quick decision without informing anyone else during a fight. It had worked in their favor, but Hunter liked to know when he was going to do something reckless. 

“What?” You ask, batting your eyelashes innocently. “He’s a smart man, he’s probably figured something out by now. It’s not like you’ve been trying very hard to hide it.”

So he had been right. There were things, things beyond just the normal gawking of men enclosed in a tight space with a beautiful woman. You are beautiful. He can’t blame them for staring, or touching. It’s not exactly forbidden. He knows the kinds of things that happen during shore leave. But that was shore leave, far from the GAR and those that would report to higher-ups the goings on in the private lives of troopers. 

Hunter had told him the little shore leave they get they spend here on Kamino, far from Coruscant and where the other troopers spend their free time. 

An easier place to get caught. 

He knows the consequences of doing it, the consequences of getting caught. The reprimanding, the possible decommissioning. 

He stares at you wide eyed, Hunter passing him to stand in front of you. “That’s...against the-” 

“What, against the rules?” Crosshair says, leaning against a crate. “You’ll be quick to learn we’re not exactly ones for following the rules.” 

“It’s tradition.” Hunter says, hand cupping your chin to lift your gaze to him. You stare up at him, something shining in your eyes. Love? No, not quite. “Perhaps this time it can be more of an...initiation.” 

“If you want.” You say, turning to look at Echo once more. You’re staring at him like you did when you first met him on the flight back from Skako Minor. Your tone is the same too, that gentle, disarming voice used to calm nervous patients. Your lips turn up in a soft smile, a complete 180 from the salacious look you had been wearing seconds ago. “You don’t have to, if you’re uncomfortable. You can always go and get dinner, give us a couple hours.” 

He should. He should walk out the door and pretend he’s not about to watch his new squad’s medic act inappropriately with the other members of the squad. You don’t seem to have any complaints. There was no coercion on their part, at least that he could tell. You want this as much as they seem to do. They all move towards the table, hovering around it, around you. 

You’re beautiful. You truly are. He’d be crazy to try and deny that. He can’t blame them, and perhaps if he had still been like he was before, he’d have tried to shoot his shot. 

You rest your elbow on the table, leaning your head against your hand. “It’s up to you, handsome. You can always just watch, if that’s what you’d prefer.” 

There’s a tense moment of silence, everyone still as you stare at Echo. He swallows thickly, knowing he should walk out while he still can, but he’s not sure he wants to. Maybe he does want to see this. Maybe he does want to partake. You seem so willing, so ready. 

Hunter grabs your chin, yanking your face back to him. It’s rough, the sweetness in your eyes disappearing again, being replaced by the lusty look that had been in them before. Hunter presses his gloved thumb against your lips and you eagerly take it into your mouth. 

He’s screwed. He’s so kriffing screwed. 

Hunter stares at you as you suck on his thumb, seeming to silently communicate. This isn’t a new thing. You’ve been doing this for a while. Hunter pulls his thumb from your mouth, dropping his fingers to the neck of your tactical suit, tugging on it gently. “Off.” 

You stand, Hunter stepping back. You begin to undress, pulling off your gear and tactical suit. Echo can’t help but avert his gaze as you pull off your breastband, his face feeling warmer than usual. You’re not the first naked woman he’s seen, but this is different. He’s not supposed to be seeing you naked. 

His eyes dart back to you as you move, lifting yourself onto the table. His face feels warmer than usual as he stares at you, taking in every curve and slope of your body. You bend your legs, pressing your heels into the table, spread wide enough for even him to see the slick folds between your thighs. 

“Get yourself ready, mesh’la.” Hunter says, his voice deeper than usual. 

You lay back on the table, tracing a hand down your body. Echo can hear the thud of codpieces hitting the floor, but his eyes are focused on your hand as it dips lower and lower. 

Your fingers run through folds, gathering some wetness. You slip a finger inside, letting out a breathy sound. Your other hand drops down to circle your clit slowly as you work your finger in, stretching yourself out. Your head falls back as you add a second finger, slowly picking up the pace. 

Echo’s eyes focus on your lips, parted as you moan quietly. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could see you like this. The risks are so high, but no one seems to care. 

You’re close, your fingers thrusting into you hard as you desperately chase your orgasm. Hunter turns his head, glancing at Crosshair. The sniper smirks, pulling his toothpick from his lips before flicking it across the room. He steps up to you, fingers wrapping around your wrist before tugging your hand from your pussy. You let out a whine in complaint, Crosshair tugging you up to sit.

“Aww man, why don’t I ever get to go first?” Wrecker complains. 

“Because you’d rip her in half.” Crosshair says, delivering a sharp slap to your thigh as you maneuver yourself. You bend over the table, resting your head so you can see Echo. You make eye contact with him, lips parted as you breathe. 

Crosshair’s thin fingers trail down your spine, your back arching to press your ass up. His other hand frees himself from his blacks, jerking his hard length. You moan as he presses his cock into your slick pussy, lifting up on your toes to take him deeper. Crosshair groans as he settles inside you, hands dropping to grip your hips. 

You brace yourself on the table as Crosshair begins to move, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. You let out the most salacious sounds, Crosshair’s hand tangling in your hair to pull your head up. Tech steps up in front of you, slipping a hand into his blacks to draw out his cock. You open your mouth, waiting expectantly for Tech. 

He presses his cock into your mouth, his own hand taking the place of Crosshair’s. Crosshair picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours. The sound of his hips hitting your ass, and the wet squelch of your pussy are loud. Echo glances nervously at the door. If someone stood too close to the door, they could probably figure out what was going on. 

No one else seems to care, though. They’re not stopping, nor attempting to be any quieter. 

The only things that have been silenced are your moans, muffled by Tech’s cock in your mouth. You’re moaning and whimpering, at the mercy of the two clones as they use your body. Crosshair slips a hand under you, fingers rubbing your clit. 

Your body shudders as you cum, letting out a high pitched moan around Tech’s cock. Crosshair groans as he stills, cumming inside you. Crosshair pulls free, Tech not slowing at all. Wrecker steps up, taking Crosshair’s place. He runs his fingers along your slit, gathering Crosshair’s seed that’s beginning to seep out of you, using his thick fingers to push it back in. 

You moan around Tech’s cock, pushing yourself up on your elbows. There’s a pool of drool forming on the table under you, more stringing between your lips and Tech’s cock as he pulls free for a second. Wrecker takes advantage, pressing the thick head of his cock against your slit. 

Your eyes squeeze closed, body relaxing as he presses into your pussy. You whimper at the stretch, body gaping around his thick cock. Your head ducks down, hand lifting to jerk Tech’s cock as Wrecker presses further in. Hunter steps up to your side, carding his fingers through your hair. It’s so soft and gentle, such a change from what had just happened. 

You whine, hips shifting against Wrecker’s hold. “Too much.” 

“You can take it, mesh’la.” Wrecker groans. 

“Good girl,” Hunter praises, still stroking your hair. “Be a good girl and take him.” 

You let out another pathetic whine, legs shaking by the time Wrecker is completely seated inside you. Hunter gently guides your head back up, Tech slipping his cock back into your mouth. You grip the edge of the table as Wrecker begins to move, slow thrusts as your body stretches around his cock. 

Echo’s hands have curled into fists at his sides, his cock pressing uncomfortably against his codpiece. He never would have thought he could be turned on by something like this, but the sounds, the way your body moves so seamlessly with them, the noises coming from you...it’s all too much. 

Tech grits his teeth as he stills, cumming into your mouth. You take all of him, swallowing his load. Wrecker pulls you up, holding your back to his chest as he cums with a loud groan, spilling into you. Tech slaps a hand over your mouth as you nearly scream, soaking the table and the floor with your orgasm. 

Wrecker laughs rapturously, holding you up as you practically go limp in his arms. “Got another one!” 

“Yes, well, you do have the anatomical advantage when it comes to producing such a result.” Tech says. “For some of us, it takes actual skill.” 

Wrecker lays you on the table on your back, your body limp as you breathe heavily. “Yeah, well I’ve done it more times than anyone.” 

“Enough.” Hunter says, stepping around the table to where you’re laying. “You can debate skills later. We’re not finished here yet.” 

Their gazes all turn back to you, Hunter stepping between your legs. He reaches up, stroking your cheek gently. “Hi, mesh’la. Still with us?” 

You nod, leaning into his touch. “Present, Sergeant.” 

Hunter smirks, reaching down with his other hand to pull out his cock. “Good girl.”

You let out a little whine at the praise, his hands folding your legs against your chest. You hold the backs of your knees, keeping your legs in place. 

Hunter smiles, trailing his hand down your front. “Such a good girl for us.” His fingers circle your clit, your legs twitching. “Can you take one more?” 

You nod, looking absolutely fucked out as you stare up at him. “Yes, sir.” 

He smiles, moving his hand to press against the back of your thigh as he guides his cock to your slit. You groan as he presses into you, giving you no time to adjust as he begins moving his hips. You make the sweetest little noises as he fucks you, eyes trained on him. 

It feels different than with the others, softer and more intense. Echo wonders if it’s simply the dynamic. The others pick you apart and Hunter pieces you back together. He can’t help but be curious. How had this started? How long had it taken? Who was first? You’d probably tell him if he asked. It wasn’t like you were hiding it anymore. Not that you really had been from the start. 

Your knuckles are white where they’re gripping under your knees as Hunter rolls his hips against yours. He can tell just by the sounds you’re making how close you are. He can already pick up the cues your body gives. 

Hunter grips your hips, pulling you to the very edge of the table. His movements change, thrusting shallowly into you. Your legs begin to shake, moans getting louder and higher pitched. He knows what’s coming already, your hips jerking as you soak the front of Hunter’s armor, sending a squirting into the air and onto the floor. Hunter takes his cock in his hand, jerking it a couple times before he cums onto your pussy and thighs. 

Wrecker stares in disbelief, making a disappointed noise. 

“Looks like you won’t be in the lead for much longer.” Crosshair teases, slipping a toothpick back into his mouth. 

Tech grabs a questionable looking towel off the floor, wiping down the table and the floor. You let your legs go, both flopping bonelessly over the edge of the table. 

“So?” Hunter says, turning to Echo. He’s still standing between your thighs, the front of his armor dripping from your explosive orgasm. “What do you think of our girl?” 

Echo’s throat feels constricted. He’s not sure he could speak if he wanted to. He’s hard, fists still clenched at his sides. 

“You’re a part of this squad now.” Hunter says, placing a gentle hand on your stomach. “Which means you can be part of this if you want.” He glances down at you. “She’d like you to be, wouldn’t you, cyare?” 

You nod, still lying limp on the table. “Want your cock, Echo.” Your voice is raw, hardly more than a murmur. 

Hunter stares at him, waiting for an answer. Echo knows he can say no. You’ll be disappointed but not upset. He should say no. You’ve had enough, he can tell, but the way you’d worked Tech with your mouth, giving control over to him. His cock twitches at the thought. 

“So, how do you want her?” Hunter asks. 

“I-I want her mouth.” Echo finally says, stumbling over the words. 

Hunter helps you sit up, easing you off the table. “Come on, mesh’la. Show him what you can do with that pretty little mouth.” 

You take the couple steps to him with a distinctive limp, dropping to your knees. You’re hazy eyed and soaked with sweat, sticky from your cum and theirs. You look absolutely fucked. If someone walked in, there would be no question. All they’d have to do is look at you to know what had transpired in the barracks. 

You wait patiently on your knees as Echo reaches into his blacks pulling his hard cock out. You lean forward and for a moment he’s worried you’re passing out, but instead you stick your tongue out, running it along the bottom side of his length. His jaw clenches, hand closing around the base of his cock so he doesn’t cum immediately and embarrass himself. It’s been a long time since he’s felt anything, and your warm mouth might send him straight into space. 

You grip his thighs as you lick along his length, swirling your tongue over his head. Your eyes lift, no longer hazy as they meet his, staring deeply into them as you take him into your mouth. He keeps hold of his cock, watching as you sink lower and lower until your lips are pressing against his hand. He swallows thickly, the warmth of your mouth and the press of your tongue almost too much. 

He understands now. Not that he hadn’t before, but he can see how they’ve all fallen so heavily for you, risking being discovered just for this. Just for you. 

You bob your head, fucking his cock with your mouth. He desperately squeezes the base, not wanting to cum just yet. He holds on for dear life, keeping his gaze locked to yours as you suck the very soul out of him. 

He lets go, cumming with a curse as he spills into your mouth. You swallow around him, taking every last drop before releasing him. You lick at his head, cleaning every last drop before you sit back, licking your lips. 

Hunter steps up next to you, gently patting your head. “Good girl.” 

Wrecker helps you into the ‘fresher, Tech cleaning up the rest of the mess you had made. Echo tucks himself back in his blacks, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. Two years ago he would have never considered taking a civilian medic to bed, much less with his own squad. They’re so nonchalant about it, slipping back into their routines almost instantly. 

When he had first met you, he would have never thought you did something like this behind closed doors. It’s not hard to see why they would take advantage of your willingness, though. You’re captivating, not just in your skills and your beauty. 

Kriff, he’s in deep now. 

He’s not as upset about it as he should be. 

Taglist:

@kaminocasey, @rosechi, @mxkyrie, @bobaprint, @star-trekker-0013, @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka, @rain-on-kamino

[here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can]

At Peace.

warnings: mentions of blood, scars, death, alcohol, lmk if I missed any

summary: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance

They say there are five stages of grief;…

Everyone was sitting around the Potters’ coffee table, playing scrabble when it happened. Through the open window, an owl swooped in. The fat brown bird dropped a letter in Sirius’ lap and flew out through the front door again. The room was quiet. Lily was the first to tear her eyes away from where the owl had left and looked back at Sirius. 

“What is it?”

He stared down at the white envelope in his hands and sighed softly. Then, he turned it over.

Mr. S. O. Black The living room Potter Manor Godric’s Hollow 

…denial,…

Clack. One of the scrabble pieces clattered onto the hard wood floor, breaking the deafening silence.

‘…sorry to inform you that your brother, Mr. Regulus A. Black, passed away last night…’

No. That can’t be true. 

There must be some kind of mistake.

No, Regulus isn’t dead.

“C’mon, what is it?” James’ voice almost made Sirius jump if it wasn’t for Remus’ hand on his shoulder. 

“Nothing,” he replied quickly and stuffed the letter back into the envelope. “Just… y’know, work… stuff.”

The others simply nodded.

“…we’d better get going,” Sirius added, nudging his boyfriend. “It’s getting late.” 

The two exchanged a look and Remus nodded. 

“He’s right, we should get going.”

…anger,…

Sirius’ back hit the wall as he stumbled backwards. He took a deep breath and looked at the pieces of wood and glass spread across the floor of his childhood home.

This time he was the one throwing curses. Ironic, wasn’t it? He had almost laughed aloud if it wasn’t for the piercing pain in his chest. 

And his hand. Blood trickled onto the carpet, but this time, he couldn’t care less.

Grimmauld Place 12 felt rather empty as Sirius ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at it, but the pain he could inflict on himself didn’t compare to his aching heart.

“Why him? It’s not bloody fair!”

Sirius’ throat was hoarse from yelling as he sat down on the cold wooden stairs. 

“Master-“ 

The house elf stopped dead in his tracks and turned around to leave the room as quietly as possible. Sirius swallowed thickly. 

“Where is he?” He asked quietly, just before Kreacher could leave. “Regulus, where is he?” 

Regulus. Reg. Reggie. His baby brother Regulus. After years of not using the word, it left a bittersweet taste on his tongue.

“Kreacher swore not to tell-“

“Where the fuck is he?” Sirius shouted. “Tell me!”

…bargaining,…

Why’s it not me?

Why can’t it be someone else?

Why’s it not Bella or Cissy? Someone I don’t care about?

All those thoughts filled his head as he covered his ears with his hands and curled up on the green bedsheets. The golden sign on the door still read the initials ‘R. A. B.’.

…depression…

Sirius didn’t know how long he had sat there, in his brother’s room, staring at the letter form the Ministry, before he heard the front door open. He was sitting on the bed, his back against the wall. Hot tears were running down his face, a bit of his own blood had stained his once snow white button down and the paper in his shaking hands, just like his parents’ expensive liquor had stained the tapestry after he’d thrown the even more expensive looking bottle at the wall.

“Sirius?” 

Remus’ voice echoed through the empty hall. The heavy door slammed shut behind him. Sirius didn’t answer. He didn’t know if he could even talk if he tried. He mentally cursed himself for being so careless with the glass. The blood on his hand had dried, it would form a scar later. 

“Love?”

Sirius sighed as Remus called out for him again. He let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes.

“In here,” he managed to choke out through the tears. 

Sirius felt as though he was sitting in a puddle of sorrow. It filled his lungs and poured out of his eyes, a thick black liquid, impossible to get rid of. 

…and acceptance.

Not one, not two or three years after that evening at the Potters’ was there a day Sirius didn’t think of his brother. 

But it didn’t hurt anymore. There were no more thick black cloths covering every mirror in the flat. Seeing Regulus’ when he looked at his own face didn’t hurt Sirius anymore, even though he saw his brother’s eyes stare back at him when he bent over the sink to wash his hands. 

No, he smiled when he noticed what else he had in common with his little brother. He loved that they had the same nose and chin, the same eye colour, the same hair, the mole above his eyebrow.

He just wished that bloody house elf would tell him what happened so he could finally be at peace.

[frizzyanya]

Hi, yes, so I wrote something based on this, it’s copied below or can be found on AO3 here. (3800 words) Based on OP’s post and @fandomtraveller20​‘s comment.

Regulus

It had started out as an off-hand comment, as most things did with them.

Some fifth year girl had come up to Regulus to dreamily ask if he wanted to go to Madam Puddifoots with her. The answer, of course, as always, had been no. He really didn’t understand why they still asked.

Now that he was seen as the heir apparent to his side of the Black Family’s fortune, he was seen as a catch. Damn Sirius for leaving.

No matter how rough and abrasive he tried to make himself, people always wanted to ingratiate themselves with him to curry favor, or perhaps in the hope that his status would reflect well on them.

Not that Regulus had ever in his life been that sort of person.

And so, on one Tuesday after lunch, Regulus kicked the leg of his four-poster, and whined to Barty and Evan out loud, “I wish I could just say I was dating someone so they’d all get off my back.”

Barty and Evan both blinked back at him for a moment, unsure what to say.

“But Regulus, mate,” Evan said carefully, “you don’t want to date anyone.”

Barty wasn’t so gentle. “You really can’t date anyone while you’re so hung up on Potter you can’t even think about anyone else, wouldn’t be fair.”

Regulus scowled at Barty. “I’m not hung up on him anymore, that was a month last year. I’m over it.”

Evan laughed. “Keep telling yourself that, Reg.”

Regulus turned his glare on Evan, who just shrugged but didn’t seem bothered. He should be cowering, Regulus was half a second from cursing them both over it.

“Anyway, that’s not what I meant,” Regulus said, irritated, “I don’t want to date anyone for real, just make people think I am.”

Barty perked up. “A fake relationship?”

Evan raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going to find someone willing to do that? Going to ask Potter if he’d be inter-”

Regulus threw a pillow at him. Evan just hugged it like it had been a gift rather than a weapon.

“Not him. Anyone but him,” Regulus said darkly. Evan wasn’t getting it.

“Yeah,” Barty said, with a confident nod, “I get what you’re going for. I’ll do it.”

Evan pulled the pillow away quickly. Regulus gaped at Barty, equally shocked.

“You’ll what?” they asked in perfect unison.

Barty nodded, looking at both of them as though they were dim.

“If you ask anyone else, it’ll be common knowledge it’s fake by day two. There’s no one who you can trust a secret like that with. ‘The heir to the-’”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Regulus said quickly. “You-” he paused hesitantly, “you would be okay with that?”

Evan’s face was screwed up a bit.

“Why do you want to?” he asked, “what’s in it for you?”

Regulus turned back to Barty. It had been an excellent question.

Barty’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Why do I ever want to do anything? The chaos of it all.”

-

Their fake little affair was news within hours. Evan hadn’t really understood why either of them were willing to do it, but Barty hadn’t had a single second’s hesitation.

“I’m going out with Regulus on Saturday,” he’d announced loudly to Dorcas the second he’d ascended the stairs back up into the common room, “finally got him to say yes. He always says no to anyone who asks, but I knew he’d be interested in me. I mean how could he not be?”

Regulus, who’d been at the bottom of the stairs eavesdropping, just rolled his eyes. Evan laughed lightly, but they both turned back into their dorm room. The message had been delivered as needed.

By dinner, everyone in the castle knew. It probably wouldn’t have been such big news if Regulus hadn’t been who he was, but there was no stopping gossip when it was about an heir to one of the houses of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

Barty wasted no time. Even though their stated first date was on Saturday, he was already acting like he was smitten at dinner that night.

He served Regulus extra food when he’d finished the portion he’d served himself, bumped their shoulders obnoxiously, and flirted loudly.

The whole room probably heard. Regulus would have been mortified if it hadn’t been necessary to his sanity to get those silly girls away from him.

Mercifully, while Barty was over the top with his words and actions, he was more subdued with his touches. Regulus had never been a very tactile person, and Barty respected that fact.

They would never really be compatible to date, but he was a solid friend.

Dorcas and Pandora teased them all dinner. Pandora - who was a Ravenclaw and therefore hadn’t heard the news until late afternoon - ate with them to get the story. Dorcas - who had been the very first person to know - had a certain expression of mischief in her eyes when she looked at them, and Regulus already had a guess that she had clocked it as fake. Still, she didn’t say anything about it.

But if he was going to trust anyone with the secret eventually, it would be the two of them.

They were, after all, his closest friends after Barty and Evan.

He wouldn’t have asked either of them to fake date him, but he did trust them to keep his secrets in this and all things.

After dinner, Barty and Regulus walked out together into the Great Hall, eyes following them as they went. Evan had stayed behind with the girls, which meant that Regulus and Barty’s walk back felt like a procession, as though they’d had a carpet laid out in front of them so that all eyes could focus on them.

They hadn’t escaped the hall for long before Sirius and his friends appeared in front of them.

Sirius watched Regulus flatly.

“Can I talk to you, Reg?” he asked. “Alone?” He eyed Crouch disdainfully.

Regulus just glared at him. They weren’t close, but they’d certainly been getting along better since Sirius had left; he no longer seemed to blame Regulus for every single misery in his life, which meant that they could have a passing decent relationship when they wanted to.

But Sirius wasn’t entitled to Regulus’ free time, and Regulus didn’t feel like getting berated in private.

“No,” Regulus said coldly.

Sirius eyed him, and then seemed to decide he wasn’t going to give in.

“Then I’ll just say it here: what the fuck are you playing at, dating Crouch?”

Regulus’ eyes narrowed. He had expected the questions, but he hadn’t necessarily expected them in front of Barty.

“It’s none of your bloody business, is what it is.”

Barty laughed loudly.

For the first time, Regulus looked away from Sirius.

Barty’s expression was icy, but he was obviously entertained.

Sirius was surrounded by his friends. Lupin and Pettigrew were watching warily, a few steps behind Sirius. Potter was standing even with him, and his glare was actually much colder than that of Sirius. He looked mutinous, as though he were somehow offended by Barty and Regulus dating.

Regulus couldn’t see how any of this was his business at all.

But Regulus was a little hurt to see that expression on his face in Regulus’ direction, because - contrary to what he would ever admit to his friends - he did still like Potter so much more than he wanted to. Those rare moments when Potter had smiled at him, or even said hi, were all etched in his memory in gold plating. Regulus would have to try to forget this one.

“You’re not even gay,” Potter spat towards Regulus, bringing everyone’s attention to him.

Regulus raised one shoulder loftily.

“You don’t know anything about me, Potter,” he said. He didn’t confirm or deny being gay, even though it was definitely true, but Barty made to confirm it for him.

He slung his arm slowly and carefully around Regulus’ lower back (so as not to spook Regulus, but it probably seemed more protective than anything to the outsiders) and stepped a little closer.

“You don’t know anything, Potter. We were just leaving.”

“Sirius,” Regulus said in dismissal, with an incline of his head.

“Regulus,” Sirius replied automatically.

Barty led Regulus in the direction of the Slytherin common room. Just after they’d turned a corner away from the hall, Regulus could hear Potter say “he’s not gay” in a very dark voice.

Sirius responded immediately, but Regulus couldn’t make out the words because his voice was much lower.

Barty dropped his arm once they were out of sight.

“Sorry about that,” he said, gesturing to where his arm had been, “had to sell it, but I know you’re…”

He trailed off, but Regulus just waived his concerns away.

“I’ve got to get used to it, I suppose,” he said warily. There was no pretending to date Barty if he wasn’t going to get used to at least some touch. “That sort of thing is okay.”

On the way back to the common room, they went over what would be okay and what wouldn’t, in depth.

Yes: arm around the shoulders, arm around the back, holding hands, kiss on the cheek, hug from the front, linked arms.

No: kiss on the mouth or anywhere else other than the cheek, hug from behind, hands in Regulus’ hair.

That night, after all was said and done, Regulus laid in his bed, rather satisfied with how the day had gone. Barty was actually the perfect person to have planned this out with. He would respect Regulus’ boundaries.

-

The next day, Wednesday, the stares started to get a lot less pointed and a lot more casual. Most people seemed to have accepted that they were dating, and no longer seemed like it was worth talking about.

Only one person seemed like this news was still noteworthy, and that was James Potter.

When the Slytherin sixth years passed a group of Gryffindor seventh years who were chatting by the Transfiguration classroom, the first thing that Regulus noticed was Sirius’ eye roll. He didn’t say anything, but he still seemed irritated before turning away to ignore them.

But Potter didn’t look away. He just glared, openly staring, at Barty and Regulus as they walked by.

“He hates me,” Barty said with a laugh when they had cleared out of the hallway. “It’s actually kind of funny. Think he’s protective of your family name? Doesn’t want Sirius’ name sullied by association with someone like me?”

Regulus thought hard about it, but he could only come up with one reason.

“Hardly, he never seemed to object to you when we were friends. Maybe he’s homophonic.”

Barty’s eyes widened, and his smile was wild.

“The great James Potter, champion of the little guy and hero of the school, is homophobic. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Regulus frowned at him. “He’s not the Great James Potter, he’s-”

Barty scoffed and cut him off. “That’s rich for you to say, you worship the ground he walks on.”

“Do not,” Regulus replied darkly.

Barty just laughed, unbothered by Regulus’ outrage.

“You do. But if he’s homophobic, that’s pretty bad of him.”

Regulus nodded, awfully sad about it. He wouldn’t have taken Potter for someone who hated gay people. Regulus - who was very definitely 100% gay - felt a little bit sad about just how misplaced his stupid unrequited crush had been.

“We could make him even more uncomfortable,” Barty mused, oblivious to Regulus’ inner turmoil, “make him regret ever talking bad about us.”

“And how would we do that?” Regulus asked skeptically.

“I have an idea,” Barty said with an evil grin. “We’re going to make him get used to it.”

-

Barty’s idea, apparently, was to spend more time in Potter’s way, and to be extra annoying while they did it.

He already knew the Gryffindor seventh years’ class schedule (when Regulus asked how exactly hw knew it, Barty just waived him off and explained that he knew everyone’s class schedule, for all houses and years. Barty’s photographic memory and encyclopedic knowledge of everything he’d ever learned could be scary sometimes) so they could make sure that they were everywhere.

When Potter and his friends exited their Charms classroom after lunch, it was to find that Regulus and Barty were sitting on the window ledge next to the classroom, Barty with his legs across Regulus’ lap and his arms around Regulus’ neck, looking the picture of the most annoying cutesy relationship that had ever happened in the history of the school.

When Sirius saw them, he rolled his eyes and moved to walk away.

When Potter saw them, he marched over straight away.

“What are you doing here?” he asked Regulus sharply. He pointed a finger at Barty. “With him?”

“I believe we are snuggled up cozy,” Barty replied gleefully, “feels nice to-” he began, but James ignored him.

“I didn’t ask you,” he said to Barty. He turned back to Regulus. “Why, Regulus?”

It seemed out of character for Potter to so sincerely treat someone like they were beneath his notice (that was something that Regulus or Sirius would do, but not someone so noble as James Potter).

“What he said,” Regulus replied. “Why are you so bothered? Does the sight of us together offend you somehow? Can’t stand two guys who are happy to be-”

Sirius grabbed James’ wrist and pulled him away before he could reply.

“Don’t rise to their bate, Prongs, just ignore them.”

Potter nodded sharply, before turning back to Regulus once more.

There was something in his eyes, something almost desperate.

“You shouldn’t date him,” he said finally, “you could do so much better. You don’t have to date someone like him.”

And then he turned and left with his friends, leaving Regulus a little shell shocked.

“You okay?” Barty asked quietly, seeming to sense that Regulus was a little off kilter after that.

“He really is homophobic,” Regulus replied dumbly. He should have known based on their prior interaction, but it still hurt. It was shattering the golden boy image so sharply that it almost physically hurt Regulus’ heart.

-

The rest of the week was a lot simpler, because Potter didn’t approach them again. After the stressful interaction outside of the classroom, Regulus and Barty had abandoned their plan to bother Potter all the time.

Without really discussing it, they’d just stuck to their own schedule.

And Potter might even have been avoiding them, who could say.

On Saturday Regulus and Barty had their date in Hogsmeade, and it went very well. They went to Honeydukes and Barty bought Regulus a large bag of sweets, then they got drinks at the Three Broomsticks.

Loads of people saw them, which made the whole thing feel like it was accomplishing the goal they’d set for themselves.

A couple of people came up to them to remark on how cute they were together, which made Barty and Regulus both stare them down flatly until they left, but it was harmless. Trying to gain favor by flattery was certainly less annoying than being asked out over and over.

Regulus only spotted Potter in Hogsmeade in the late afternoon. He and Peter Pettigrew were on their way into Zonko’s joke shop, laughing together as they walked up. Potter put his hand on the door to pull it open, when he raised his eyes and spotted Regulus and Barty down the street.

Something in Potter’s eyes looked stricken. There was a long moment’s pause while Potter stared at them before Pettigrew leaned forward and said something quietly to him, which prompted him to turn and wrench the door open and walk briskly inside. Pettigrew gave one meaningful look towards Regulus before he, too, went inside.

Regulus found himself frozen on the flagstones.

“He hates that we’re together so much,” Barty said, but his words were thoughtful rather than scathing. “It’s weird, actually.”

Regulus turned to look at him, finally pulling his eyes away from the door Potter had disappeared through.

“Why is it weird?” he asked.

“Your brother and Lupin are on a date right now, and he seemed so supportive of that.”

Regulus’ eyes bugged out.

“They’re what ?” he asked, “where did you hear that?”

Barty just stared at him, confused for a second, before his eyes widened.

“Oh, you left breakfast early, I forgot.” Regulus circled his hand quickly to indicate that Barty should keep going. “When we were leaving, Sirius and Potter were in front of us down the hallway. Sirius was going on about how excited he was for his date with Lupin, and Potter was saying how happy he was for him.”

Regulus felt like the world was tilting on its axis.

“He wasn’t homophobic?”

Barty shook his head. “Not at all, actually, he was cheering them on.”

“But,” Regulus began, “but why does he hate…” he trailed off, trying not to finish with “me.”

Barty eyed Regulus up and down carefully. Regulus had to work not to shrink from his gaze. Barty was the smartest person any of them knew, but to be on the wrong end of one of his highly focused stares could be unnerving. You could practically see his brain working through it.

“Maybe it’s not homophobia that’s making him mad.”

Regulus turned back towards Zonko’s, but the door stayed firmly closed.

“What is then?” Regulus asked, “every time he sees me he glares.”

“No,” Barty corrected, “everytime he sees me he glares. I don’t think you’re the problem.”

“What’s that supposed-” Regulus began, but the jingling of a bell above the door to the joke shop distracted him, and both he and Barty turned and watched Potter and Pettigrew walk out.

“Oi, Potter!” Barty called out, as though they were friends, “over here!”

Potter glared at him, but it was more wary than harsh. He started walking over, and Pettigrew followed a few steps behind.

“What do you want, Crouch?” he asked.

Barty’s lips were tilted up in a mischievous smile.

“Where are your friends?” he asked, affecting a casual tone, “usually don’t see you without them.”

Potter’s glare softened ever so slightly at the mention of his friends.

“They’re off somewhere together,” he replied. “On a date.”

“It’s their first date,” Pettigrew added unnecessarily. Potter nodded.

“And you’re not angry about that?” Regulus blurted out, against his own better judgment.

All the anger left Potter’s face when he turned to Regulus, and he just looked confused.

“Angry about what?” he asked. “They’re my friends. I want them to be happy.”

Regulus shook his head slightly, trying to shake his brain free of whatever had him confused.

“But you hate…” he said, but he trailed off and looked away. “So it’s just me then?” he said to the wall.

“I’m not…” Potter finally began, “I don’t hate you. Not at all.”

Regulus looked back at him angrily. How dare Potter pretend he hadn’t been terrible all week.

“You don’t hate me, sure. It’s not a problem when my brother dates a man, but it’s a problem when I do. That’s a very specific kind of homophobia, Potter, kind of rude when you think about it.”

A long silence descended on them.

“Regulus,” Potter said gently. “I’m not…homophobic.” He said the word like it was dirty.

“The opposite, really,” Pettigrew said.

Regulus turned to stare at him, and Pettigrew shrank back.

“What does that mean?” Regulus asked sharply.

Pettigrew flushed. “He doesn’t hate that you’re dating Barty because he’s homophobic ,” he explained. “It’s not that.”

Regulus turned back to Potter.

“Then why? Because this feels personal.”

Potter winced. “It’s not that, it’s something else.”

Barty laughed ever so slightly, and Regulus glared at him.

Barty just rolled his eyes.

“Say it Potter, he’s not going to believe it if I tell him later, needs to come from you.”

Potter nodded. Regulus looked back and forth between them.

“Sorry if I made you feel that way,” Potter said apologetically, “I wasn’t upset it was a guy. I was jealous.”

Regulus stared at him, wide eyed. “You were what?”

“I was jealous,” Potter said with a nod. “I’ll get over it. It’s fine.”

Regulus ignored whatever amused sounds Barty was making somewhere in the distant background.

“You were jealous…of Barty?”

“Yeah,” Potter said with a shrug. “I have a thing for you. But like I said I’ll get over-”

“Barty, you’re fired,” Regulus said without turning away from Potter.

Barty just laughed.

“Pettigrew, let’s go,” Barty said, walking around Potter to grab Pettigrew by the arm.

Potter didn’t look away from Regulus, but he did address Pettigrew distractedly. He seemed to understand that Regulus wanted him alone. “See ya later, Wormtail.”

Pettigrew walked off with Barty, but only after pulling his arm free and keeping himself a few steps away.

“What did you mean ‘you’re fired?’” Potter asked, once they were alone.

“We weren’t really dating,” Regulus admitted, “not for real. I just wanted people to leave me alone and stop asking me out.”

Hesitation flickered across Potter’s face.

“So you’re not gay then?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“No, that’s why I fired him. I am very gay.”

Potter looked confused, but only for a second, and then one of those smiles broke out across his face.

“So can I ask you out then?”

Regulus nodded, a smile playing at his lips.

“Please do.”

Potter grinned. “Regulus Black, would you want to go out sometime, perhaps right this second across the street?”

Regulus couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah. Just had a date there a few minutes ago so it might confuse people, but I very much would.”

James stepped forward and slipped an arm around Regulus’ shoulders. Somehow, when it was Potter, it wasn’t a problem. He didn’t have any urge at all to resist the touch. He let James lead him across the street.

“My brother is going to go mental,” Regulus said when they had sat down with drinks, “he’s going to think this is so weird.”

Potter shook his head and smiled.

“I promise you he’s not. He won’t even be surprised.”

“Potter,” Regulus said flatly, “You’re you and I’m me.”

Potter shook his head a little sadly.

“He’s known I liked you since the very beginning.” He paused for a moment before speaking again. “And call me James.”

Regulus nodded, and a faint smile flickered across Potter’s - James’ face.

“How long, James?” Regulus finally asked, giving in and calling him by his name.

James smiled nervously. “A little over a year. Never thought you’d go for it though, never even thought you’d go for any guy.”

Regulus shook his head, feeling a little exasperated at himself.

“We lost all that time.”

James’ eyes widened. “You liked me too?”

Regulus nodded sadly, but James’ expression wasn’t sad. It was so, so happy.

“Better late than never,” he said simply, that smile filling the space between them.

“Yeah,” Regulus agreed, “better late than never.”

Imagine Bartylus fake dating (for whatever reason) and James is so jealous that Regulus thinks he’s homophobic 😭😭

[proserpina-magnus]

how about reggie with a s/o who has an oral fixation? <33

Absolutely! I literally love this prompt. Mwah. (Also, this is a bit short, sorry!!).

S/O With a Oral Fixation (Regulus Black)

Prompt: Reader sucks off Regulus in the library.

Reader: n/b

Word count: 1.5k

Warning: smut (oral, male receiving), finger sucking, risky sex (in public), “lovely, love, baby”, soft dom Regulus, oral fixation, and spelling mistakes.

Regulus didn’t know why, but it became pretty clear in the first few weeks of dating that you had an oral fixation. He wasn’t sure how this occurred and he wasn’t going to ask in case it was personal, but he always became weirdly worried whenever you always began to chew on your hoodie strings or fingernails.

He found it gross at first, he won’t lie. He always mumbled something like a “don’t do that,” or “take that out of your mouth,” he felt like he was watching over a little kid.

He didn’t want to indulge himself into letting you keep this bad habit, but before he realized it he was replacing your chewed up hoodie strings with his fingers. At first it wasn’t sexual, a simple replacement for the already abused strings and ridged fingernails.

Soon you had become reliant on his fingers, instead of reaching for your hoodie strings you would suck on his fingers. He noticed that half the time you didn’t even realize what you were doing or the way it was having an effect on him. And when his friends began to tease you about it, he snapped at them. Without realizing it, Regulus began to like whenever you seeked him out just to suck on his fingers.

“Baby don’t do that,” he scolded you quietly in the library, you looking up from your book pages not understanding what he meant. He gently took his fingers from your mouth and you puttered at the loss. “M’sorry,” you mumbled embarrassed, wiping your wet lips on your jumper sleeve.

Regulus sighed, rubbing your head gently as he cupped your face in his rough hand. “You can do that later, not right now. We’re in public love,” Regulus promised and you nodded. Your heart felt heavy and with the scolding he gave, you felt a need to suck on something. You ran your tongue across your teeth, sucking on them to try and soothe the urge but it wasn’t enough compared to his fingers.

You lost interest in your book, sighing while laying back in your chair as your eyes fixated on his fingers. You watched him turn the page of his potions book, your eyes following everytime they moved.

You had waited a good few minutes, making sure Regulus was deep in thought before you took his hand and slipped his fingers into your mouth again. Your eyes closed in relief, sighing out deeply as you were finally given something you wanted.

Regulus had snapped out of his daze once he felt his fingers in your mouth, his chin in his hand as he watched you suck on his fingers. You were really such a simple thing.

“I’ll tell you what,” he caught your attention, your eyes snapped open as you pulled his fingers from your mouth, rushing out an apology that he dismissed.

“I still have some work left to do, but if you really need to suck on something you can get on your knees and use my cock,” he offered plainly, and your heart thudded at his word. Your cheeks grew hot, mouth slightly opened as you tried to find an answer for his appeal.

“But- but we’re in public,” you whispered, he always scolded you for sucking on things in public, was this a test?

“I know, but my baby’s needs are a bit more important than mine,” he soothed, he took your elbow, directing you to the edge of your seat. He planted a long kiss against your lips, before pulling away. “Come on,” he whispered. You where completely loss for words or movement and Regulus laughed at your dumb state. He helped you to your knees, placing your hands on his belt.

“Lovely,” he caught your attention and you looked up, he smiled down at you and rubbed a hand through your hair. “Take off my belt,” he told you and you fumbled with the lock. He watched your shaky hands try to push the steel away from the hole, and he caught notice of your frustrated expression.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he comforted after he saw the tears well up. “I’ll help,” he clarified as you set your hands on his knees and waited eagerly. With ease he pulled the steel from the hole and unhooked his belt, he pulled the button from its hole and then zipped his trouser down. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him pull out his cock, lousily stroking the base. Your hands slapped his away, taking it in yours as you squeezed the flesh against your palm.

Regulus gave a look that you didn’t catch, he was about to pull you away for a punishment but he caught the sensitive look in your eyes and the way you whined like a dog, he decided you needed this a lot more than he thought. He was fascinated with the way your shaky bodied stilled as you took his cock in your mouth, your sigh making him flinch.

This was immediately better than his fingers, your mouth sucking hungrily for more of his length. Your tongue felt at home as you slid it around the underside, you could even pinpoint the thick veins. You paid no mind to the way your knees ached, your cheek resting on his thigh as your eyes slipped closed. This was exactly where you needed to be.

Regulus had to pull himself away from looking down at you, focusing on his book. You became deaf to any noise, not hearing the footsteps that passed by or the scratching off quills. Even with this risky task, you felt safe. You could almost fall asleep, mouth sucking against his hard skin. You didn’t even realize he was close to climax, completely numb to the idea that this also felt good for Regulus too.

You felt a hand through your hair start to gently rub against your scalp, Regulus whispering a gentle encouragement for you to open your eyes. You blinked, looking up with a mouth full of cock. “Hmm mmh,” you gurgled and Regulus nodded like he understood.

“I'm done baby, let’s go to my dorm,” he gently spoke and you squint your eyes confused, how long had it been? You felt his cock slip from your mouth and you grabbed it from his grasp, slipping it back in. Regulus gave a small chuckle and pulled you away while you gurgled and whined for it back.

“Reg I’m not done-“ you told him, drool slipping down your chin as you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Reg I’m not done,” you repeated.

“Shh I know I know,” he shushed gently, rubbing your cheek to calm you down. He slipped his cock back into his trousers and you felt the urge to cry. “I’m telling you we’re going to my dorm,” he finalized once again, your hands going to pull his trouser back down to get his cock.

“No baby, that’s enough,” he whispered, taking your hands and pulling them away. He buckled his belt and you became frustrated. At this point you had begun to cry, tears slipping down your cheeks as you rubbed his thigh. “Please Reggie, I’ll be good, I’ll be really good, can I have your cock now?”

Regulus softened at your words, bringing you up as he sat you in your chair. He leaned close, rubbing your cheeks to wipe away the tears. “I know you’re being good, I just want to take this to my dorm-“ “can I have your cock then?” You cut him off, desperation leaking in your words.

Regulus kissed your forehead and rubbed the low of your back, “I’m not taking my cock away, okay? Please stop the waterworks and listen to what I’m going to say,” he whispered in your ear. You faltered, nodding as he pulled away. Even though you nodded, you began to talk over him once again. Regulus sighed as he grew angry, his thumb slipping into your mouth. You sucked on it without being told, nerves settling as you calmed down.

Once Regulus knew you were going to listen, he began to explain to you again. “You can't have my cock right now,” he started and he saw the flash of anxiety in your eyes and quickly explained himself.

“But, once we get to my dorm I’ll take out my cock and you can suck on it until dinner, you understand?” You nodded, taking his thumb out of your mouth.

You got up quickly, ready to sprint to his dorm but Regulus tugged you back and onto his lap. He firmly placed a hand on your stomach, keeping you from running.

“Lovely, what do you say when I give you something you want?” He whispered and you shuddered, you turned around kissing him quickly. “M’sorry, thank you for the opportunity sir,” you correct yourself.

Regulus let you get up, standing up behind you as he purposely pushed his hard cock against your thigh. You breathed in deeply, stomach whirling.

“Don’t forget your manners again, last time I let it slide today,” he warned, you nodded and Regulus placed a hand on your waist for a warning. “I understand sir,” you corrected yourself again.

“Go on, I’ll see you in my dorm,” he patted your ass and pushed you towards the library exit. Regulus chuckled as he heard you run down the hallway.

--

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[quillsanddaydreams]

puzzle dates

regulus black x reader

—author’s note: I adored writing this. Like a lot. Requested by an anon who wanted some Regulus fluff with a potter!reader. @scvrllet my dearest, gave in prompts for it and a message by @nuttytani darling inspired it. So what happens when you meet Regulus, your friend years after hogwarts? Happy reading ;)

—warning(s): mentions of food and drink. gender neutral!reader (pronouns aren’t used). reader is James's sibling but it's hardly there.

—word count: 1,546

It was raining heavily. You had been out for about an hour, getting groceries for the week. Whispering a spell, making sure no one was viewing in your direction, you watched your wand transform into an umbrella and hurried away from the shop. Stalking towards your house, you tried to make sure not to let your bags get wet. You didn’t notice the man standing in your way.

“Ah, shit—” you began, not looking up far too busy to check whether or not something fell. “I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t notice where I was going—”

“Potter?”

You gazed up meeting someone you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Regulus.”

For a minute you two just stared at each other. He had changed. The thin, gaunt boy you saw as a child was replaced by a handsome man with the same striking eyes you used to know so well. You shook yourself.

“What— what are you doing here?” you said gesturing towards the damped hair and drenched clothes. Extending your umbrella over his head you continued, “You’ll get sick.”

“Worried about me, are you Potter?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Why don’t you think the soaked-to-the-bone look works for me?”

You chuckled.

“You didn’t answer my question,”

“Ah, I was here on ministry business but I guess I won’t be able to get it done now,” he said slowly looking around. “Was trying to find a place I could apparate safely. Too many muggles around.”

You furrowed your eyebrows noticing your surroundings again.

“Come with me,” you suggested. “My apartment is nearby and you could dry off before leaving.”

Regulus looked like he wanted to refuse but you cut him off.

“You’ll only ruin your health here, come with me— also it’s been a long while since we talked,” you pointed out and Regulus looked at you curiously. His mouth quirked upwards and he nodded. The two of you moved to the quaint three-story building, climbing up the stairs before reaching your door. You muttered in some spells before hearing a click.

“Don’t trust muggle locks?” Regulus said smugly as you rolled your eyes.

Waving your wand, you started up the fire; the warmth tickling your skin. Regulus took to drying himself off— murmuring incantations. You took to keeping the bags in the kitchen, putting up a kettle for some tea. Taking off your scarf, you sighed and sneaked a glance at Regulus who was now standing awkwardly looking around the house.

“You know you can sit, right?” you asked him. Shaking his head a little, he went to sit down in front of the fireplace. You took out some cups and an assortment of tea bags placing them in a tray along with some cookies you had bought the same day. Regulus smiled as you came in.

“Which one will you have?” you inquired as he gently took the cup from your hand. “Ah, still can’t have tea made by anyone else?”

Regulus threw you a grin.

“It’s a disastrous habit.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the tea pleasantly hot against your throat. Rain thrummed at the roof, the noise filling up the place.

“So—”

“How—”

You laughed. Indicating at him to continue, you raised the cup to your lips again.

“So what have you been up to?”

“I’ve been managing dad’s business. Since James joined a quidditch team, there was no one to help so I stood up. I quite like it, it gives me enough room to be creative;” you said softly. “How about you? Tell me something other than your ministry job.”

“Well I tried my hand at painting,” Regulus said after thinking for a while. “Remember how you used to tell me to try it?”

“You had the most gorgeous handwriting and the diagrams you made were always so perfect. Could you blame me?”

Regulus rolled his eyes, smiling as dimples formed on his cheeks. He looked beautiful like that. Curls of hair falling over his forehead, relaxed and carefree. You missed it.

“What?” he asked his cheeks a rosy color. You shrugged.

“Nothing, it’s good to see you after all this time,” you said, ignoring how your stomach tickled. “Remember how we promised to stay in touch?”

“Oh yes,” Regulus said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Right after your brother glared at me and threatened to hex me if I don’t stop talking to you.”

You snickered.

“You know he is quite the idiot,” you countered. “And my parents would’ve been proud if I brought you home.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“Brought me home, huh?” he said as you bit your tongue, looking away. “Did you fancy me, love?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying and failing to keep a straight face. It was something about the way he called you love that made you feel like a teenager with a crush again.

“The point is,” you pressed. “The point is that it never mattered what James did or said. He couldn’t do anything to keep us from being friends.”

“Yeah, friends.” Regulus breathed. You almost missed it.

The room fell silent again and you could hear the pitter-patter of the rain. Regulus picked up a cookie before speaking again.

“Do you still like doing puzzles?” he said as your eyes lit up.

“Yes, I do,” you said, reminding yourself of all the times the two of you spent together. “I never quite got over it after all the hours we spent together. Sirius used to mutter ‘mental’ whenever he saw us working over one. Especially since we always took up the one which seemed impossible to do.”

Regulus grinned, nodding.

“I don’t think he ever had the patience for it.”

“You know;” you said pondering. “I have bought a puzzle recently. Would you like to do it with me? For old time’s sake.”

“And here I thought it’s because you enjoy my company,” he said with a smug expression. Your heartbeat erratically and you found yourself hating how he still affected you.

“So that’s a yes?” you said, overlooking his jab. Regulus clicked his tongue accepting.

You got up slowly taking out the box you had bought a few days earlier. It was a fiery phoenix, looking at you intently. Regulus rubbed his hands and sat down on the floor beside you. He gasped a little when you put the box down.

“You know, I bought the exact same one about a week ago,” he said, helping you open the pack. “It’s missing a piece.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and Regulus shrugged.

“Should I bring another one? I have—”

“No no let’s do this one, it was fun.”

Folding your legs, you sat down beside him, your arms touching. Starting from the corner the two of you put together pieces. A sense of calm eloped you. The house and everything with it seemed to blur away. Just you, him, and the puzzle remained. It was different from your memories though, neither of you were children anymore. The adoration you had for him somehow hit harder now. Your hand touched his several times and you beamed at him as the puzzle came together.

“Aha!” you exclaimed putting the last piece in its place. It looked pretty. You looked over at Regulus, who was holding a stray piece in his hand, oblivious to what you said.

“Reg? Earth to Reg?” you called out as he finally looked over at you.

“I’m pretty sure you’re my soulmate,” he said as you felt your ears heat up.

“What—”

“This,” he said, indicating the odd puzzle piece. “This is the exact piece my set was missing.”

You snorted trying to deflect how your chest was filled with butterflies.

“Oh? And that makes us soulmates?” you asked, amusedly. “Since when did you believe in soulmates even?”

Regulus had the decency to blush.

“Well didn’t you always say our lives were a big puzzle?” he started. “Right now, you have a portion of mine.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh at the cheesiness or pull him close at the very same moment.

“You’re a dork!” you said poking his head with your finger. The boy smiled but it was strained. His demeanor changed. You could practically see his walls building up. Did you say something wrong?

“Reg,” you said urgently. He hummed in response. “Was that soulmate thing a joke or you meant it? Even if a little?”

Regulus avoided your eyes.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, yes it does.”

“Yeah well then I like you,” he said, looking down. “Always have. But I know you don’t and…”

You put a finger to his lips, stopping him.

“I do,” you said as his stormy grey eyes landed on your own. He cradled your cheek, leaning in tentatively, glancing at your lips. You heaved a sigh as his mouth finally met yours. Grabbing his collar, you kissed him softly. When you pulled back, you had a smile on your face.

“Now that wasn’t how I was expecting the day to go at all,” you commented, delighted. Regulus held your hand kissing the knuckles.

“We’re going to have more of these puzzle dates, aren’t we, love?” he said as you rested your head against his shoulder, interlinking your fingers with his.

“We are.”

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill ​ ​ which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

[s1st3r]

Soo... how would the Bad Batch react to a S/O that has a very snarky/dry sense of humor? Just always cracking jokes and finding humor in everything? (Love ur content btw <3)

Thank you for your request!!! And THANK YOU IM GLAD U LIKEY!!!!

Ok I have seen this but knew it would take me hours to write so I was waiting for the write moment! (get it? write = right? teehee) talk about a terribly dry sense of humour my goodness.

How Would The Bad Batch React to a Snarky/Witty/Dry Sense of Humour Significant Other (s/o)

Factz: Not even kidding, I feel like the boys would kill for a hella sassy partner in crime.

Hunter

Oh my gosh they are literally best friends!!! They speak in a very similar style to each other.

Hunter expects a little bit of snark from Cross, sarcasm from Echo, and quips from Tech, but when his s/o just dishes his dry humour right back at him the first time they meet, he's like "Why was that so... hot???"

So from then on, most of the dialogue exchanged between the two of them are like super sassy comments and witty replies, until it unintentionally gradually morphs into really heavy flirting. They get so into teasing each other, the whole batch can feel the tension in the air.

Of course both are oblivious of this for the longest time.

But when eventually they do figure it out and get together, the whole batch sigh in relief thinking "finally this intense pining is over"... But it actually just gets worse?

So now during missions, the two of you verbally dance around each other like you're in some comeback war.

In the middle of a serious mission:

Hunter: "I need you here now!"

S/O: "wow wow Hunter. babe. cool your jets. i know we haven't really done it in a while but we're in the middle of a mission and-"

Hunter: "As much as I love how you think mesh'la, I think you're misreading the situation."

His s/o also keeps ruining his *tough guy* persona. During briefs, his s/o keeps making him crack his skillfully honed poker face.

The teasing through dry humour is just a really fun and goofy way to connect to each other and is their common ground of affection.

Tech

We all know Tech is a witty boi, and man do we love him for it!

Tech finds his s/o's attitude quite entertaining.

He does like it when they use their snarkiness to defend him from people that give him a hard time, but he like his s/o's humour best when it's just the two of them having fun.

I feel like Tech would find it 10x funnier if his s/o was also really smart and able to understand his technical language, because they just pass these really witty/funny quips back and forth to each other that are actually hilarious but no one understands. It's like their own hidden language.

Now we've seen Tech smile and m a y b e chuckle a little before?? But so far, we've yet to see Tech actually laugh and I headcanon that Tech snorts when he laughs. (Has anybody seen the live action TMNT?? Kinda like how Donnie laughs in those). So ohmiGOSH it's so WhOlEsOmE when his s/o makes Tech laugh!! He's so CUTE!

The rest of the batch will be out getting supplies while Echo works of the exterior hull of the ship and Tech and his s/o fix up the systems inside.

Tech laying under a panel: "Hm, this wire seems to be adhered to a far less efficient arrangement." Tech's s/o wordlessly shuffles over from their panel to analyse the problem. Their shoulders touch as they lie side by side.

S/o: "Mm, I think you're right, but see here? It looks like it's been manually transfigured. Probably by Echo in one of our many quick fixes. It looks like he's done it so he can easily access and program the flight module."

Tech: "I'm going to rewire it to-"

S/o: "To that one right?" His s/o says, suppressing a smile as they point to clearly the wrong wiring. Tech's eyes narrow and his brow furrows.

Tech: "Of course not! That would compromise the-" He catches a glimpse of his s/o's cheeky grin, "oh you're joking." His s/o bursts out laughing and he can't help the smile that stretches over his face as he shakes his head.

By the end of the repairs, the batch come back to find you both practically rolling on the ground in snorting fits of laughter.

Their humour paired with their competence makes them super attractive to him.

Wrecker

Wrecker finds his s/o's dry humour the funniest thing in the galaxy. He is one of those blessings that will always laugh at your jokes.

Which is a relief cuz I have dry humour and almost no one ever laughs at my jokes rip.

I mean, you guys saw how he reacted in ep 1 when Omega DeStRoYeD those regs in the mess hall. He was so proud and supportive of her.

So yeah he's pretty much his s/o's hype man.

He loves that his s/o's humour means that they quite enjoy playful competition and games. So they're always playing random games together, even going so far as to arm wrestle (S/o: "But we both already know who's going to win... Me. Obviously.")

And sometimes he will let his s/o win, just because he thinks it's so cute when they start flexing their arms and boasting about how strong and amazing they are.

He knows they're joking. He knows they know he let them win. But even though they've never really beaten him, he still thinks they're strong and amazing.

There is always friendly banter between the two but what Wrecker loves the most is how easy his s/o makes things for him.

He's not a natural at romance, and often finds himself making mistakes or he might do something a little awkwardly. But instead of being mad, disappointed, or judgmental, his s/o just smiles or laughs it off and walks him through things.

He feels like he can always be himself around his s/o.

Crosshair

Again, it's canon and fanon that Cross is a bit of a grumpy pants so he obviously finds his s/o's wit irritating at first. Which his s/o finds annoying, so his s/o just does it more just to get under his skin.

Totally enemies to lovers trope. I see it no other way. FiGhT me.

His s/o would make jokes all the time but I see that one day, his s/o makes a dry joke and he gives them crap for it, and they've just had enough and so they absolutely *slam* him with snark, sass, and wit that cannot be rivalled by Crosshair himself. They get right up into his face; tension as thick as s o u p.

And then he just grabs their face and makes out with them.

His s/o's like "ok" and totally rolls with it.

The Bad Batch wonder why they don't fight as much anymore (not that they're complaining).

Now they both use their sass to bully the regs.

They kinda become this unbeatable pair of unrivalled attitude. Unlike Hunter and his s/o who use it to tease each other, while Cross and his s/o do that a little too, they mostly direct their humour and sarcasm outward. Cross's s/o is a little more good natured than him though and will pull him in when he goes a bit too far.

He generally finds his s/o's humour quite funny now (though he'll never admit it), and the fact that he smiles a little more doesn't go unnoticed by his brothers.

Echo

Ok while Hunter is master of the dry humour, Echo is KING of sarcasm.

Having said that, I feel like Echo would actually far more appreciate light humour over sass/snark/wit/etc.

I think after being through the crap he's been through, echo baby just needs a light hearted, positive beam of sunshine in his life and his s/o is it.

He loves that his s/o always has a way of making others laugh and smile, even on really hard missions and in rough times.

I think his s/o having a lighter humour also makes him feel safer. Like there's no chance of miscommunication whereby this s/o accidently hits a sensitive topic. His s/o sticks to surface level humour which makes it easy to digest.

They are also absolutely fantastic at telling funny stories which is a real treat when his s/o will retell stories about some of the missions the Bad Batch has done and they just execute the story perfectly.

Echo is in love with his s/o's laugh and thinks it's so cute when they giggle at their own jokes.

He'll never say it, but his s/o's humour sometimes reminds Echo of Fives and Cutup, which is a bit bittersweet for him.

They say that "a joyful heart is good medicine" and for Echo that couldn't be more true. His s/o's joyful heart and nature revive and heal him. He is so much happier because of them and will tell them so in between little kisses as his s/o giggles playfully at his gentle yet eager ministrations.

~ Sister

Tag list: @damerondala @imalovernotahater

@kaorikoizumi @xlittlemissydjx @in-the-crosshairs @dionysuskid21

@littlemisscare-all

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

Sorry but what exactly is up with the bad batch arc? I've heard people talk about the issues with echo's white skin but I haven't heard that many bad things about the arc itself? (ik you said you don't want to be negative on your blog so I would absolutely understand if you didn't answer this ask)

Oooooooooooh boy. Well I just had a long, long, LONG rant about it with someone, but I guess I’ve got an excuse to put all of my points onto a post and talk about it publicly now that I got an ask x) I’ll keep it under the cut so I don’t throw my salt in people’s face. I really don’t want to upset people who love that arc - it has redeeming qualities, but overall it pisses me off so much for so many reasons. So here:

The first issue is obviously two members of the Bad Batch (minus Echo) being being just about the furthest thing from maori no matter how much you're willing to stretch it. 

Like... yeah, nah. I wouldn’t even accept Crosshair and Tech (grey haired guy and goggles guy) as Jango’s natural biological sons, nevermind as his clones. 

The problem is that their different appearances are justified by them being described simply as clones with desirable mutations (i.e superpowers). But why the hell did the creators have to change their appearances for that to be a thing? How does that correlate? Sure, the concept of clones with different faces is interesting, except... no, no it’s not, and I’m gonna rant about it in a few secs. But basically it's like they thought giving them different faces would be a good substitute for having different personalities (another thing I’ll come back to). If they really wanted to have buff clones with super eyesight or whatnot they could have just done that, without making them lose what little melanin the lighting of the show had allowed the other Clones to keep. 

But the gigantic problem is... showing that the "regular" clones have VERY distinct identities despite their identical faces has been one of the themes of the show from episode 1. Literally, the first episode of TCW has Yoda taking time out of a mission with galactic stakes to tell the three clones he’s with (who tell him they’re all the same because they have the same faces) that they’re wrong, and that they’re very different in the Force, that their appearance doesn’t matter, that they’re all equally unique and important, and he lists all of their individual skills, strengths and weaknesses. 

And it’s not just me being bothered by that, here’s a post by @cacodaemonia​ saying the same thing. 

Introducing the Bad Batch as "unique" clones who are "different" and "not like their brothers" because they have different faces and skills completely breaks that theme of the show!! Because the entire point of the Clones in TCW is that their faces don't matter, they ARE unique! 

(Plus the Bad Batch’s character designs are so cliche and uninspired it’s just laughable to try and justify bleaching their freaking skin for the sake of visual diversity. 

This took like 10 seconds. I found the first guy by literally googling “soldier movies,” and the other two are Team Fortress characters that look a LOT like Wrecker and Crosshair. One is “Heavy” and one is “Sniper” lmao.

And behold:

The above picture is a Team Fortress reference that I found just by looking up “bad batch clone wars,” so I’m not the only person who sees it.) 

And the batchers don't even have personalities to justify calling them unique! They have no character traits beyond the most cliché american soldier tropes ever. We have a token loner sniper, a token "smart tech guy" who knows everything from xenoanthropology to biology to Separatist computers to sound waves to encryption, a token Badass Brooding Leader and a token “dumb muscle guy.”

I dare anyone to find more about their personalities than this: - Crosshair is the perpetually grumpy sniper who looks down on "regs,” - Wrecker likes to blow up stuff and doesn't like heights, - Hunter is the leader and is friends with Cody, - Tech is smart doesn't trust Echo. 

That’s it, that’s literally it. Four episodes about them and that's all we get. These character tropes are literally the least inventive ever. FFS, Hunter even has a freaking KNIFE! Not a vibroblade, mind you, like in kriffing Star Wars. A knife. Against metal droids. Why. They couldn’t make this more of an american-war-movies cliché fest if they tried. (And sure, he can feel electromagnetic waves so maybe it does make sense for him not to carry a vibroblade and maybe this is nitpicking, but he looks like a ripoff of a Predator character and it pisses me off).

Another thing is that when you introduce characters you have to make them likable - and them despising the normal Clones is a terrible way to do that! And they don't even grow from that because at the end of the 4 episodes arc they just see Rex as not bad "for a reg" and they see Echo as no longer a reg, and both of these things are infuriating! 

The worst thing imo is that Echo then becomes part of them (and irreparably loses his melanin in the process, uuuuuuuuugh) when there is nothing to justify this. 

The dialogue goes like this: 

ECHO: You coming? TECH: Not really our thing. CROSSHAIR: Accolades. WRECKER: Yeah, we're just in it for the thrill. Yo! HUNTER: You sure it's your thing? ECHO: What do you mean? HUNTER: Your path is different. Like ours. If you ever feel like you don't fit in with them, well, find us. (they leave) REX: Those are some of the finest troopers I've ever fought alongside. Echo. You and I go way back. If that's where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong.

Echo doesn't feel like he belongs anymore, okay, but why would he feel like he belongs with the assholes who up to the last five minutes of the mission thought he was probably a traitor, and also verbally expressed that he was not worth saving?? In all of the arc, Echo himself never voices that he feels he’s not ‘like the other Clones’ anymore and that he feels it’s a problem. His relationship with Rex immediately picks up where they left things off - the first thing he does upon being lucid again for the first in over a year is cracking a joke for Rex’s benefit. 

Why would Echo feel like he doesn’t belong in the 501st anymore, when we don't even see him interacting with anyone from his past life except for Rex and Anakin (who are both extremely very supportive of him)?? If there had been one scene of a “regular” Clone (ugh) looking at him with horror and disgust or something, or just Kix and Jesse cracking jokes with Echo awkwardly standing by the side not getting it, I could forgive the show trying to make it feel like he has an identity crisis, but this was so shallow!

The only thing that makes Echo and the Bad Batch’s experiences similar is that they *look* different. It’s so against the themes of the Clones I’m seething just from thinking about it. And what the hell? Echo ALREADY didn’t fit in. That was the WHOLE POINT of Domino Squad. They didn’t fit in because they thought they were better than anyone else because they had trouble getting along with their brothers, so obviously it had to be their brothers’ fault (ahem, Bad Batch?). And you know what happened? Domino Squad OVERCAME that. And Echo and Fives still didn’t “fit in” because their personalities were unique and creative, and they became ARC Troopers because Cody, Rex and the Jedi VALUED THEM FOR PRECISELY THAT. Echo having new and unique skills and a modified appearance is the most bs justification for him feeling like he doesn’t belong!! 

And that brings me to my biggest issue: Rex telling Echo the bad batch are some of the best troopers he's ever met. I'm sorry, based on WHAT? What Rex values above everything is loyalty and brotherhood, and the Bad Batch DOESN'T DISPLAY ANY OF THAT. We never see them even expressing concern for each other! Wrecker treats saving Cody’s life like a trivial issue, because it’s just ‘sO eAsY’ for him, and beyond that we never see them supporting each other or genuinely expressing affection for each other beyond boasting about each other’s skills... 

Sure they can destroy a lot of droids, but they're dismissive of Rex's brothers, and the entire Umbara arc and this arc showed what he thought of that. They keep saying things like "not bad for a reg,” don't show any trust in Rex's skills or experience (even though they can't have been fighting in the war for more than a year and a half when he’s been there from the beginning, and he outranks all of them), they are essentially guerilla fighters which has only minimal value in a galactic war, and they never grow beyond their views of what regs are, and can and can’t do. 

None of that should make them good troopers in Rex's book. Going back to Echo not fitting in, remember who taught the Domino Squad the importance of seeing all of your brothers as important and equally valuable? Shaak Ti, true, but more importantly? 99! The guy the Bad Batch are named after. He did have value and was important and was no less of a trooper than his brothers, even though his mutations made him LESS powerful, not more. (And btw, just from a writing standpoint, the batchers don’t have any weaknesses, which is shit.) Cody and Rex mourned 99 as a true soldier even though it wasn’t his sacrifice that brought them victory (which would have implied that he had value as a soldier and a brother because he saved them, as opposed to him having that value intrinsically), because that’s what a fine trooper is to them. A BROTHER first a foremost, someone altruistic, brave and loyal. The Bad Batch distort the meaning of 99's character with their behavior. They’re not altruistic, their bravery is mitigated by the fact that they’re freaking invincible, so of course they take risks (again, see Wrecker saving Cody without a care because it’s easy to him, as opposed to Rex being ready to run into a burning ship about to explode because his brother is in there, and having to be physically dragged away). The Bad Batch denigrate their brothers for being less skilled, thinking their own abilities make them unique somehow, when 99 could barely fight and was still the one who taught Hevy about being a good soldier. 

And again the batchers don't grow from that. Which is all the more frustrating because the original ending didn’t have Echo joining them, from what I remember of the unfinished episodes, and the arc actually ended with them receiving their medals in front of regular troopers who cheer for them, as opposed to them smugly ostracizing themselves and dismissing the ceremony as trivial and meaningless. (original ending vs s7 ending: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ab1eCfzKamw) 

It’s so annoying. Do you know what characters never had an entire arc dedicated to them and still have far more personality and more interesting designs and more symbolic weight?? 

Jesse, for starters. Kix. Dogma. Cut. Slick. Keeli. Ponds. Rys, Jek and Thire. Commander Doom. Commander Fox. Wolffe. Hevy. Hardcase. 

Cody was a more interesting character just in his RotS appearances. 

Waxer and Boil had one episode about them and then only two cameos plus Waxer’s death, and they’re still some of the most memorable, beloved Clones of the whole show. And Boil was grouchy and prejudiced like Crosshair, but he has so much growth that we could make a whole thread about it. 

I'd say the last problem with the Bad Batch is that it has cash grabbing money hungry vibes. Different faces are more marketable, cliché personalities are more toy-friendly, and it's basically a big ad for the Bad Batch series. And they throw Echo in the Batch at the end for bs reasons (again, it wasn’t in the original ep from what I remember) and they tease Cody in the show to make sure fans will still watch even if they notice the lack of soul. And less melanin sells more at Disney apparently. 

So that’s my whole pissed rant. 

[echos-newlegs]

Can I request 8 from the list with Tech?

Stop Thinking

Ahh yes!

Tech x Reader: "No, no- I liked it."

Warnings: slight cursing

Tech licked his lips. Squinting with furrowed brows as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was feeling self conscious about himself, and it didn't help you and the others decided to head for 79s. A place full of regs.. Normal clones. Perfect clones. Clones you seemed to get along with as well as you got along with him and his brothers.

"Tech, you about ready?" Your voice called from outside the door, and he felt his breath catch. "I uh, yeah, one second." He called back. Running his fingers through his hair one last time. Then slipping out of the fresher. None of you were dressed fancy. You all had your blacks on and lower armor still attached. The others already waiting outside while you stayed back for Tech.

He looked over to you. You were seated on a chair. Fixing your boots, then straightening up when you saw him trail out. "You feeling okay?" You asked. Looking at his slightly distressed form. Hands trembling a bit. "Yeah, I'm fine." You frowned. You knew he wasn't, but you didn't try and press it.

You stood up, looking up to the taller male with a small smile. "Ready then?" He nodded. You opening the door and heading out of the Marauder. Closing the door behind the two of you. He was quieter than normal as the two of you trailing behind his brothers as they bickered and rambled.

You were concerned to say the least. "It's really nice tonight, " you tried to start a conversation and he looked over. Nodding a bit. He was thankful you were trying. His mind was wandering, degrading every little thing about himself. "It really is, the stars are beautifully aligned, too." He commented, and you smiled. Looking up as the five of you went to get a cab.

You and Tech had to take a separate one. The ride was quiet, but it wasn't awkward. You were relaxed and he felt a little better just with you. You never once treated him differently for being defective. You treated him with the same respect you did other clones. If anything, you were a bit nicer to him than most. Always holding conversations, smiling his way, or going out of your way to help him. It always made his day a little brighter. Especially on days like these.

"You gunna dance with me?" You asked as you both approached 79's. You've only danced with him once. It was when you were both pretty buzzed, he was actually drunker than you. Which was a shock, but you never forgot it. It was one of the best nights of your life, and by the way he smiled fondly and his cheeks tinted pink. You were sure he at least remembered a bit of it. "Sure," you giggled a bit at that.

You walked out of the cab. Tech waiting for you to catch up with him. Two of you walking in to see the rest of the gang towards the back where they normally sat. You were going to head back there, but was stopped by the 104th. "Y/n!" Comet and Sinker nearly screamed as they ran over to you. Making you smile and snicker. Giving Tech a small glance as if to say you would join him in a bit. It didn’t take him long to disband from your side and head for the others.

You could practically feel who you assumed was Crosshair glaring daggers into the back of your skull for the five minutes you were talking to the troopers. You were just catching up, it was harmless. Or at least that’s what you thought.

“Sorry, I’m back,” you spoke with a small laugh as you sat at the booth the bad batch took over as theirs. “Welcome!” Wrecker chirped. Shoving you lightly with a snicker, and you snickered back. Eyes moving to Hunter and Crosshairs. “What..?” You spoke with a bit of a frown. “Why were you talking to them?” Cross spat, and you sighed. “Cross, I used to work for the 104th, I’m not about to ignore them. How’d you feel if I got assigned another troop and I just straight up ignored you guys?” You spat back. You noticed Hunters expression changed. He seemed to change his view point on it all, but Crosshair just scoffed.

“We should just enjoy our drinks-“ “Can it, Tech,” Cross sneered, and his eyes moved back to yours. Leaning over the table, but you didn’t back up. “They’re regs, we don’t talk to them, what part of that do you not understand?” It was your turn to lean in now. Furrowing your brow. “What part of you don’t run my life do you not understand?” You snarled. Smacking your hands on the table and standing.

“Wait, where are you going?” Wrecker asked, and you didn’t even turn to answer. “The bar.” Tech sat there and sighed. Head in hands. “They mean no harm and you know it,” “Tech we know as good as you that you feel insecure when she talks with the Regs.” Tech snapped his attention to his brother. Frown forming on his face. Nostrils flaring, “You don’t know bantha shit,” he snapped, and headed off to the bar as well.

It was nights like these he wished he was normal. Kriff, he loved his brothers, but their attitudes were always too stern and glum. He needed change, so he decided to accompany you at the bar with Comet, Sinker, Boost, Wolffe, and a few other troopers.

You noticed him approaching, smiling, but then frowning a bit. “If you came to drag me back to the table I won’t. I’m not letting Crosshairs petty attitude ruin my night.” He shook his head, fingers fiddling with the armor on his thighs. “No, I came to join you, actually.” Your smiled returned. Shoving Comet with a grin. “Move over, Tech sits by me!” Comet grumbled a bit, but did as told. “Yes, Sir,” he spoke and you rolled your eyes with a toothy grin.

“Alright Tech, this is Comet, Sinker, and Boost, that over there is Wolffe.” Everyone but Wolffe waved. “Don’t let him scare you off, he’s actually quite enjoyable.” You informed Tech with a grin. Shooting Wolffe a wink, which made the commander roll his eyes. Lips curled just shy of a smile. “Everyone, this is Tech, a good friend of mine.” He knew it shouldn’t, but you addressing him as a friend and not a coworker made his chest bubble with joy. Smiling as the others waved and welcomed him.

You, Tech, and The Wolfpack all participated in some drinking games with one another. One of them was ‘take a shot each time you could make Wolffe roll his eyes, two if he rolled his head and eyes.’ Though after some time you all moved to a different one since the buzz was hitting and Sinker was singing ‘Sweet Caroline,’ in a near scream.

You were laughing and enjoying yourself, and Tech spent most of the time looking over and studying your face. The way your nose scrunched up when you scolded one of the troopers, jokingly. The way your eyes nearly closed when you were laughing at a joke. Or even just the way your smile never seemed to faulter. This is what he wanted. He wanted an environment like this. One with you happy constantly. Where you weren’t scolding his brothers for something stupid. Or even himself. He began to wonder if you should transfer back to the 104th, or another legion in general.

His thoughts got the best of him again. Zoning out as he played with an empty shot glass on the counter. Coming back to when you nudged his side. “Hm?” “You good, Tech?” You asked, and his eyes widened. Realizing he was zoned out. He nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah uh, yeah I’m fine. I just uhm.. need some air, is all.” He spoke, turning in the chair and heading off to the doors. You weren’t about to let this slide any longer.

You jumped off your stool, heading for the door with him. Catching it before it closed. The music still able to be heard outside the door once shut. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, watching him turn around with a near hurt expression. “Don’t lie, either, I know you aren’t okay, I’ve been working around you long enough to know that.” You spoke. Approaching him a bit closer. You watched as he caved in. You could see it by the way he seemed to slump forward. His light eyes seeming to shatter. Worrying at his bottom lip.

“Y/n?..” he spoke, and you tilted your head a bit. “What is it, Techy?” You didn’t use that nickname on him much. Mainly only for your ears to hear. You weren’t sure of it at first, but he seemed to take a liking to it. Tech closing his eyes and sighing at the nickname. Then slowly opening them again. “I don’t think you belong with us.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows. He could tell his words hurt you, and he knew they would. “What?” Your voice wavered a bit. “I don’t mean it in anything against you, Kriff. You’re absolutely perfect, but you just seem so much happier with the 104th.” He told you. “I want what’s best for you, and well,” he chuckled, beginning to pace in front of you. “Quite honestly we aren’t the best. We’re stubborn, hard to work with, and quite un-enjoyable half the times.”

You folded your arms over your chest. “And you think the Wolfpack is any better? Did you see Wolffe? His scold is worse than Hunter and Crosshairs combined, and he holds a grudge as long, and if not longer than all of you. Then Sinker? Boost? Comet? For stars sake they’re a handful, they’re crazy, and chaotic, and Tech. What I’m trying to say is every clone unit has its flaws. No matter what. Whether it be the commander, Captain, General, Arc Trooper, whoever. There’s flaws in everyone.” You told him.

He stopped his pacing. Watching you as you told your spew, “and honestly, Tech. You aren’t in the authority to tell me what is good for me. I enjoy you all, even if I disagree with you all at times. I don’t expect a perfect troop. We’re in a war for makers sake,” you spoke, and noticed him shift at the mention of the war. “I enjoy all of you. Tech.. I enjoy you.” His eyes lit up at that. Then he looked back down.

“I’m not like them though, I’m blind, I can’t see without.. Without these,” he tapped his goggles. “I’m tan, sure, but I’m lighter than even my brothers and.. I stand out, and I hate it, y/n,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. “I feel like I’m not good enough,” your heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at his words. Stepping closer. Pausing when he seemed to tense. Reaching out to place your hands on his shoulders as if to ground him as you looked up to him.

You just stood there, watching his eyes look over yours for a moment. Searching for an answer, like he always was. “Tech, stop thinking.” He furrowed his brow. “You’re overthinking all of this, you’re good enough, in my eyes you are.” You told him. Watching as he seemed to relax under your touch. Hands running up to rest on the sides of his neck. Thumbs rubbing his exposed skin. Making him shudder. “I don’t care if you’re different,or that you need glasses. Tech, you’re absolutely perfect to me. You’re brilliant, handsome, and a fucking badass.” You both snickered at that. Techs fingers tapping at his thighs.

“Thank you,” you smiled and nodded. “‘Course.” The both of you standing there for a second. Taking in the moment and the touch of one another. Then you made a move that you immediately blamed on the booze. Pressing a quick kiss to his lips, and he froze up. Eyes widening. “Sorry I-“ you blurted, taking a step back. Pulling your hands from the base of his neck, but he caught them with his. His hands carefully holding yours. “No no- I liked it,” he assured, and you both smiled. Cheeks tinted pink. “Well..” you hummed, “you still up for that dance?” He chuckled and nodded. “Always.”

[spxllcxstxr]

Being Regulus’ S/O and Watching Him be Corrupted by His Family • Headcanon

(GIF not mine)

Warnings: angst! The Dark Mark, Voldemort, the Noble house of black deserves their own warning, death mention, poor regulus

Request: hi beautiful! could i request headcanons for regulus black's s/o? a female one if it's not too much trouble:) could i get some angst with reader saying "All I ever wanted was your approval, because I didn't know I was allowed to want anything else." if that might be too triggering, please feel free to ignore that part. maybe regulus is being "corrupted" by his mother and starting to turn into what she wants him to be? and the reader disapproves and tries to get him to realize that what he's doing is wrong? take care of yourself, luv <3 — @lucellence

A.N: oops I like this, I think. There’s more dialogue than I thought but that’s ok. I hope you guys enjoy! And love you all ❤️

Your boyfriend, Regulus Black, started acting odd after winter break in your fifth year

Sure, he was always soft spoken and a little distant before, but this was different

He wanted to be alone more often and always looked like he never actually slept at night

Avery, Mulciber, and Rosier started hanging around you, Regulus, and Barty in the Great Hall

You could deal with Barty, he and Regulus were friends since they were 11

But the other three?

They were known bullies and blood supremacists

They made you uncomfortable

“Reg can we please go somewhere else?”

“(Y/n)—“

“Please Reg?”

He looks so torn. Glancing between his new friends and the love of his life

“Yeah, ok”

So you go and sit at the top of the Astronomy tower or in the far corner of the library

But he doesn’t look all there

He’s listening to you and smiling at you

But he still looks like he’d rather be with them

And it hurts

He also stops complaining about his mother and his other family members

In fact, you try to talk to him about the many letters he gets from his mother and sometimes even Bellatrix, but he refuses to acknowledge them

He doesn’t open them at the table, he stuffs them in his robes and opens them in private in his own dorm

“They aren’t important, ma colombe (my dove in French according to Google). So don’t worry about it.”

“If they aren’t important, then why are you getting one from Narcissa’s boyfriend as well?”

“He just...wants to get to know the family better, (Y/n). You know he’s planning on proposing to her soon.”

“Yeah...I guess that makes sense.”

But if it was such an innocent letter, why was he hiding it from you?

You notice that Regulus’ eyes never settle

His light grey eyes constantly flick around like he’s suspicious of every little movement

This continues until you have to part ways at the end of the year

He’s not allowed to visit you

You’re not allowed to visit him

“You’ll stay safe, right Reg?”

“You worry about me too much, ma colombe.”

“Well when you live with that Merlin awful mother of yours—“

“Honestly, she’s not that bad, (Y/n).”

“Not that bad? Regulus are you serious?”

“No, I’m Regulus—“

“Ugh, you’re lucky I love you.”

“Indeed I am...” He mumbles under his breath

But the train finally stops, meaning Regulus has to rush off to meet his father in the platform

He presses a quick kiss to your lips before rushing out, barely promising to write over the summer

Regulus writes to you here and there

Not as often as usual

Then, in July, he stops writing altogether

This could be for a number of reasons, honestly, and none of them good

You hope he’s alright

You get one letter late in August

The script is shaky and barely legible

Smudged in certain places like he didn’t wait for the ink to dry before sending it

Dearest (Y/n),

Sorry for the late reply, mother wanted visit our cousins in Germany Bulgaria their estate in France.

I truly wanted to write back, but you know my family. I never had time alone. Always watching, they are.

It sounds like you’ve had an amazing summer, and I can’t wait to see you on the train.

Be careful out there,

RAB

The uneasiness doesn’t go away

Because you know he’s lying

You don’t send a reply, knowing full well that you won’t get another letter from him

You meet him on the Hogwarts Express

The hug is quick and is only with one arm—his left one staying at his side at all times

Much to your dismay

You have to share your compartment

You’re squished next to the window, Regulus next to you, Barty next to him

Avery, Mulciber, and Rosier across from you

You hate every minute of it

They sneer at you the entire time

You study your boyfriend the entire way to school

How he has darker bags under his eyes

And his hair isn’t as neat and proper as usual

His clothes are stiffer and heavier on his smaller frame

Skin paler, eyes duller

He tries to act casual, his left arm just out of the way of the action

But you notice as he sometimes winces during a turn or cradles it closer to his body

You grow suspicious

Let’s flashfowards a bit to....November

It’s the middle of the night and you’re following Regulus down to the library

He’s alone, looking like he doesn’t want to be caught

He quickly starts rummaging through the Restricted Section

Which isn’t bad, everyone sneaks into the Restricted Section at least once in their Hogwarts careers

But then he starts flipping through books about Dark Magic

And the sleeve of his grey jumper starts to roll up

And you see it

The Dark Mark

Black and wriggling against his pale flesh

“What have they done to you, Regulus?”

He whips his head to your frame so fast, his books clatter to the ground

His eyes widen in fear

“(Y/n), I can explain.”

“You can explain?” You’re starting to shout

“(Y/n), let’s take this somewhere else. Please—“

“What? You don’t want me to expose you? Expose you for being a Death—“

“Silencio!”

And suddenly your screams are cut off, you look at him, tears in your eyes

“Oh Salazar, I’m sorry.” He looks like he’s about to cry, pacing in front of you, fingers tightly grasping his hair in panic. “I’m so so sorry, (Y/n)...”

He reaches out to you

“I’m going to take you somewhere, ok? We need to go before we get caught. Please. Please just trust me.”

Reluctantly you follow him to the Room of Requirement

Which has taken the form of a similar library

Shelves lined with books and other magical artifacts

He quickly reverses the spell once the door is closed

“What the hell, Regulus?”

“I—“

“Let me see it.”

You push his sleeve up to once again reveal the inky snake and skull tattoo across his forearm

“Oh Regulus...”

“I couldn’t stop it.” His voice wavers and he’s trying to push back tears. “They brought me and a few others to his manor, and I was forced—“

“We’ll go to Dumbledore—“

“You don’t understand, (Y/n)! I felt him! I felt his cold hands wrapped around my arm! His veins fueled with raw power! Dumbledore won’t be able to stop him. No one will!”

“Please, Reg! You were forced, I’m sure it can be reversed if you just tell the Headmaster now—“

“They’ll kill me, (Y/n)! Don’t you understand? They already suspect my doubt! That’s why I’m being watched. Monitored even at school. One wrong word, one slip of the tongue and I’m dead!”

You wrap your arms around him, careful to avoid his searing arm

He returns the hug, tears dripping into you as he chokes back sobs

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to do this, Reg. I swear.”

“Of course I have to. I have no other choice.”

“You can be like Sirius! And live with the Potters. Or with me.”

“And when the Death Eaters come hunting you down? When they burn down your house with you inside? Tortured? Screaming in agony? That’ll be my fault.”

He looks absolutely terrified

Eyes wide, lips wobbling

He can barely catch his breath

“No, (Y/n). I can’t do that.”

“You’re not your mother, Regulus. Or Bellatrix, or Narcissa. You can be like Andromeda and Sirius. You can get out. There’s still time.”

“They’re manipulating you, Reg! Corrupting you! You aren’t a bad person or a dark wizard!”

You bring your hands to cup either side of his jaw

Your own tearful eyes lock onto his

“You’re my boyfriend. You’re sweet and caring...and—and...Merlin Reg! I can’t even describe you, you just mean so much to me. I can’t lose you, Reg. No, I refuse to lose you.”

“I—I don’t want to die...” He sobs, so openly and freely

You’ve had enough of this

You take him by the hand and lead him out the door, which is easy in his weakened and fatigued state

The two of you march through the corridors to Dumbledore’s office

He’ll know what to do

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

Regulus Taglist: @lunalovecroft

[aliasimagines]

Cordolium // Regulus Black

pairing(s): regulus black x gn!reader, sirirus black x remus lupin (mentioned)

a/n: hdjsja i wanted to write a super short (meaning a few lines) fluffy something for regulus but this is ANGST 😭😂 I think i kept the reader gender neutral and i also didn't specify your house! So this could be read by anyone.

warnings: angst, being unconscious, applied family abuse i think, crying

word count: 809

Regulus brushed away a stray hair from your peaceful, sleeping face.

 You fell down from your broom during the quidditch match. Regulus got so scared you might be hurt he forgot about how your relationship is secret. As soon as he saw your figure flying towards the ground he flew down, abandoning his team mates, scooped you up in his arms and brought you straight to the Hospital Wing. It didn’t take long after that for the whole quidditch team (both of them) to arrive in the hospital room and start making assumptions. Luckily Madam Pomfrey was quick to shoo away everyone, saying you needed air and rest not a crowd of sweaty teenagers. Regulus, however, stayed. He watched as Madam Pomfrey worked her magic on you and she said you should wake up any minute now. 

So Regulus waited patiently by your side. His dark eyes watched your chest rise and fall as you laid there. He carefully took your hand in his and soothed his thumb over your fingers. 

“Reg..?” you whisper opening your eyes. The boy looks up.

“Oh, my love. How are you?” 

“I’m.. fine. I can’t really feel my legs though…”

“Madam Pomfrey said you should drink this when you wake up.” he lifts the tall glass from the bedside table and hands it over to you. “You… you fell from quite a distance. I got.. I was worried you might..”

You nodded and reached out to caress his cheek. He tilted his head so he could lean into your touch.

“I told you I won’t ever leave you. I promised.” you said and Regulus nodded with his eyes closed. “You..Aren’t you worried people will find out?”

He squeezes his eyes shut even harder.

“I thought I lost you. I don’t want to think about all that right now.” 

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his cheek. The healer chooses this moment to come back to check on you.

“Oh, no, no. Lay back down Mx y/l/n. Mr Black please leave them alone to rest now, will you?” She gives further instructions to you about which healing-potion filled glass you should drink first and she assures both you and Regulus that if you rest you will be much better tomorrow before he pushes the Slytherin boy out of the room, much to both of your dismay. 

Regulus buries his face in his hands in the corridor. 

“How long have the two of you been dating?” The disembodied voice comes from Regulus’ left side. He slightly jumps as he was caught off guard. His brother is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, his eyes show a mixture of hurt and worry.

Regulus stares at him for a few seconds, debating whether it is worth lying or not. He chooses not to.

“Months. Almost a year.” he mumbles quietly but confidently. Sirius runs his fingers through his long hair. 

“You never said anything.” Not like we talk much. Or at all. 

Regulus scoffs. He shakes his head in disbelief.

“It is not like you came running to me when you started dating Lupin.” he says before continuing with a much lower voice. “I don’t want them to know.”

He doesn’t need to specify who he means by ‘them’. They both know he is talking about their parents. 

“Y/n is not pure-blood. I don’t..I could not care less but you know how they are.”

Sirius’ face falls as a wave of quilt washes over him. He knows exactly why Regulus doesn’t want their parents to know about the relationship. He knows exactly what they could, they would do if they found out. He knows all these things because he lived through it. But he left. He left the house and all the pain they caused him. But he also left his brother.

“I would never tell them, Regulus.”

“I couldn’t risk anyone knowing. If they found out they would.. I don’t even want to imagine what they would do. What she would do.” he looks down. “ But I suppose it does not matter anymore. I made a mistake. I showed I cared. It is only a matter of time our dear cousins report it to mother.”

“We could always use Obliviate.” Sirius only meant it as a half-joke. He would gladly use the Memory Charm on any of his so-called ‘family members’. But it didn’t make Regulus better. All the thoughts of what could happen flooded his mind  causing him to tear up. He was never this vulnerable, only with you or when he was smaller and Sirius and him were closer. Sirius moved closer to capture his little brother in a warm embrace. 

Regulus was never this vulnerable, yet now, he let himself breakdown.

“I won’t let them hurt you ,brother. Nor y/n.” Sirius said “I swear.”

taglist: @rottenstyx

[mqgriett]

Crosshair- It Won’t Stop

Prompt: “Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?” and “I didn’t know where else to go” requested by @bluehumanknightzine !! Thank you so much for the requested

Pairings: Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Warnings: blood and being shot

Summary: Crosshair will never pass up on an opportunity to teach a shiny a lesson, so when someone insults Echo he has to take charge. It doesn’t always go as planned.

Notes: this is based off of @sorry-but-no-sorry ‘s art!! Please go check them out!!

79’s was basically deserted, mainly because it was pushing 0300 in the morning, but Crosshair couldn’t sleep. Not after what had happened earlier that night. 

Typically the callus sniper wasn’t easily pissed off. Odd looks and judgemental whispers from regs was something he was used to by now. He developed thick skin, learned to just enjoy a night of drinking with his brothers and let loose a little. He was used to the rude remarks, Echo wasn’t. 

None of the regs recognized him anymore, his robotic legs and the bolts screwed into his head along with his pale skin made him difficult to recognize. The normal clones would never intentionally bully the lost 501st member, but they would happily bully a bad batch member. 

Crosshair scanned the room for the 312th trooper, knowing he would still be here. Worst thing was, the trooper was a shiny, and he had only identified his battalion by association. 

Sure enough, he was still in the back booth, lips practically swallowing a young twi’lek dancer. He rolled his eyes, strutting over to the pair in the back. 

The shiny seemed to feel Cross’s icy presence, taking a break from his makeout with the dancer to move out of the booth. 

“Back so soon?” asked the trooper, crossing his small arms and jutting his chin out. 

The sniper of Clone Force 99 didn’t waste any time with small talk, he withdrew his fist and landed a punch to the jaw of the shinty. It was so strong that it even knocked the reg back, the only thing that was preventing him from falling to the ground was catching himself on the table. 

The clone rubbed his jaw, eyebrows arching to form a cold smirk on his face. “Lose a touch of common sense in your test tube? Eh, defect?” he grumbled. 

Crosshair didn’t reply and calmly pulled a toothpick from his pocket, sticking it in his mouth and allowing it to methodically roll from side to side. He prepared to charge, but what he didn’t expect was for the shiny to pick up his blaster and shoot him in the side of the stomach where his armor didn’t cover. 

Cross stumbled backwards, hand already gripping the underside of his stomach. 

The trooper had no clue what he had done, he had reacted out of pure instinct and hadn’t calculated the consequences when he fired. He froze momentarily, proceeding to toss the blaster to the side and sprint out of 79’s. 

Crosshair still couldn’t believe what had happened. Even as he started down at the crimson liquid beginning to stain his blacks, he refused that he had been shot. 

He couldn’t go back to the Marauder, he wouldn’t make it back alive. 

There was only one other person on Coruscant he knew he could get to before bleeding out. 

***

At first you thought it was a dream, when you heard the knock at your door. You rolled onto your opposite side, flipping the silk pillow to have the cold side press against your face. 

Another knock made its way to your bedroom. 

If there’s a third then I’ll get up,

Five seconds pass, and the third knock sounds weaker than the first two. 

Swinging your legs off the side of the bed, you reach for your housecoat and move a few pieces of hair out of your face. “Coming!” you shouted, voice a little groggy.

As you enter the living room, you catch a glance at the clock and see how late it is. 

The small droid in your room beeps in attention, it’s different colored panels lighting up. “It’s alright R4, I’ll see who it is.” 

R4 chirps in response, rolling to the kitchen and out of view. 

You opened the doors to your room, the cold chill of the hallway hitting your bare legs. Squinting, you could hardly make out the figure in front of you. “Crosshair?” You yawned, wrapping your robe around your torso. 

His words sounded difficult to push out, “I’m sorry.” He sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth, something falling and hitting your foot. 

“For waking me up?” you responded tiredly, reaching down to pick up whatever he dropped. 

As your hand touched the fallen toothpick, you found that something was dripping from his armor. At first you perceived it to be nothing but sweat; however, the putrid smell that met your nose told you otherwise. 

“R4 turn the lights on.” You said sternly, within milliseconds you could fully see him standing in front of you. 

“Shit.” You mumbled, finally seeing the huge gash in his stomach. 

His entire face was pale and he was obviously nauseous, yet he still refused to let you help him onto the couch. He stumbled his way to the sofa, collapsing once he got there. Every movement that Cross produced was followed by a muffled groan or wince.

You crouched down next to him, starting at ripping all of his armor off while calling out to your droid, “R4, get me the emergency bag.” 

Your hands tore the soiled fabric away from his torso, leaving him with nothing but a sad excuse of a shirt and his pants. “Dank Farrik, Cross.” You said out of pure frustration, seeing just how bad the wound was. 

His head lulled to the side, a small stream of tears falling down the side of his face as his eyes closed. 

“Crosshair, no.” You reached up and pinched his chin, jerking his head to face you. It woke him up, “hey, look at me. Focus on me alright? I need you to tell me what happened.” You were no medic, but every senator was required to know basic medical skills. 

“79’s,” he began as R4 handed you a bottle of alcohol, Cross winced as you poured it onto the gash and shifted uncomfortably, “shiny made-“ he groaned loudly, “- shiny made fun of echo.” His brother’s name was clouded by his shaky breathing as you poured more alcohol. 

“What’d he say?” 

You placed a clean rag on top of his wound, cleaning around it as he tried to continue, “Went back and he shot me.” He ignored your previous question, not wanting to say it out loud. 

“This is going to hurt, but you need to stay still.” You commanded, the threaded needle lingering over the exposed and seared skin. 

Without looking up, you heard him speak again, “what’s happening?” 

“You’re bleeding out.” You sighed, “I need to give you stitches.” 

“No, this,” he wiped his face with his bare hand, examining the clear liquid dripping down his palm. 

“You’re crying, you got shot.” 

He shook his head and tried to sit up, “no, what is happening? This isn’t possible.” He wiped his face again, over and over. “It won’t stop,” he sobbed, “why won’t it stop?” 

You wanted to console him, but you had to get this gash closed. You stuck the needle through his skin, and it was almost like he didn’t feel it due to how preoccupied he was with the fact that he was crying. 

Cutting the thread with your teeth, you handed the needle back to R4 and placed a strip of bacta over his wound. “R4 comm Tech. Tell him to come down here immed-“

“No!” Cross jumped, “he can’t see me like this.” 

You placed your hand on his knee, “he’s seen you hurt thousands of times.” 

He pointed to his face, “Like this.”

His eyes and cheeks were stained red from crying. Blood was dried in his hair and it stained all of his body. You knew how embarrassed he felt because he understood how helpless and weak he looked in the moment.  

You calmed your tone, not wanting him to jump again and possibly burst the stitches, “R4, comm Tech that Crosshair drunkenly stumbled to my quarters in the senate building and is now sleeping on my couch.” 

Beeping in approval, your small Astro droid excused himself to your room to fulfill his duties. 

Your hands would most definitely be tinted red tomorrow morning, rather this morning, at your meeting with Bail Organa. 

Wiping your forehead, you stood back up to inspect the damage that had been done. 

Your white couch was now a lovely red tie-dye, as was your white nightgown. 

Crosshair refused to look at you, “I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“I’m glad you came here.” You ran your hand up and down his thigh, just as a gentle touch to remind him that you were still there. 

“I need a shower.” he mumbled. That was his way of asking you to help him get cleaned up. 

Carefully, you helped him to the refresher. Your back was turned to him as you drew a bath, wanting to give him as much privacy as possible as he undressed. You poured a small amount of salts in the water, to help rid his body of any bacteria that had already begun to settle in his wound. He rejected your offer to help him into the bathtub, his ego not allowing him to accept. 

You sat behind the marble tub, just so you could see the back of him. Placing your hand on his forehead, you gently pulled his head back and poured water over hair. His dusty green eyes fluttered shut each time you did this, his shoulders finally relaxing. 

Once his hair was rid of blood, you moved onto his face. You wetened a clean cloth, and benevolently wiped it under his eyes and neck. He sighed heavily, “he called him a deficient defect.” His jaw clenched under your grip. 

You froze momentarily, feeling your own anger bubble up at the thought of Echo having to hear that. Echo had always been tough, but you knew that that probably hurt him. If it didn’t, Cross wouldn’t have gone back at 0300 to teach the shiny a lesson. 

After wiping the final strip of blood off of him, you turned your head and helped Crosshair up. He wrapped a towel around his waist, flinching as it touched the wound. Luckily the medicated bandage on top of it kept it numb, making it easier for him to do things on his own. 

It wasn’t unusual for the bad batch to randomly stop by whenever they were on Coruscant. When General Kenobi would ask for their aide in a mission they often needed to wait a few nights for approval from the council. This usually led to all five of them sleeping in your bed with you. In the morning Hunter and Tech were frequently found on the floor though. 

You set a fresh set of black pajamas on the edge of your bed for Crosshair, leaving him in your as you went to choose a new nightgown from your closet. You chose the same sleepwear you had on now, just in black and not covered in blood. 

It felt immaculate to shower, and with enough scrubbing all of the blood successfully left your hands. 

Crosshair had already situated himself on your bed, flicking through the holodramas you had recorded. You wrung the excess water from your hair, tossing the dirty nightgown into the trash can and doing the same with the towel once you were finished. 

Once you were comfortable, Crosshair turned his head towards you while his eyes were still fixated on the holo. “What’s the one you, Tech, and Wrecker watch?” 

You raised an eyebrow, “I thought you said it was annoying.” 

He didn’t answer, facing his head back towards the colorful projection. 

“Ails of Alderaan.” you smiled, pointing to the title he was about to skip. 

Despite his lack of core strength in the moment, he still managed to pull the blanket underneath you to get you closer to him. He gently pressed his head on your shoulder, gingerly touching at your fingers before intertwining them with his own. “Don’t tell the boys, please.” 

Crosshair wouldn’t care if you told them he was shot, he was referring to the fact that he cried earlier. 

You moved your head to the side and kissed his temple, “I won’t.”

[lilyeholland]

Before It’s Too Late.

[Reggie Peters x Reader] PART ONE - PART TWO 

Summary: Y/N is Reggie’s complicated love interest from the 90′s and is trying to figure out where she stands with Reggie before him and his band make it big by playing at the Orpheum. *only semi based off of Stranger by Jeremy Shada -GO STREAM MAD LOVE!!!*

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Maybe like 1 swear word, and like anticipated angst???

A/N: It’s been a looooooonnngg time since I’ve written fanfic - I used to write for Tom Holland, Peter Parker and Harrison Osterfield lol but I think those days are way behind me. I miss writing so much, I decided to try it out with my new obsession; Julie and the Phantoms. Please like, reblog, and share with friends if you like it!!! 

As far as high school relationships go, your relationship with Reggie was as complicated and confusing as they get. He’s a natural flirt - a charmer, and a performer - so it never really surprised you that you never became official and exclusive, although it definitely that way at times. For instance, Reg would invite you to band practice just to watch them rehearse, telling the boys to “play their very best because Y/N’s coming and I don’t want her to think we suck”. And during said practice, he’d go extra hard with extra hair flips and bass riffs, the occasional wink making it across the room to you. 

And of course, you can’t forget that one time Reggie turned into a true cliché Romeo-type, throwing rocks at your window at 2am, begging you to sneak down with him and go somewhere. 

“Reginald Peters!” you whisper-shouted at him from your window on the top floor of your house. “Are you crazy?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he chuckled at his own comment. “Get dressed, I wanna take you somewhere.” He smirked at you and held his bottom lip between his teeth for a few moments as he watched you from your driveway. 

“Oh, you’re definitely insane,” you said softly as you rolled your eyes, earning another small laugh from Reggie. You stepped out of the window frame and back into your room to grab a pair of pants and a coat. “I’ll be down in a second.” You said before shutting your window and slowly, steadily creeping down the stairs of your house and through your front door. 

Reggie had waited patiently for you, tapping his foot and humming tunes of his own songs. His eyes lit up as soon as he met yours face to face at the same level. The first thing he did was hold out his hand for you to grab - how could you NOT be exclusive when he looked at you like that? 

He began to run down the street towards his dad’s parked pick-up truck (smart boy for not parking in front of your house). “Where are we going?” you asked as he helped you into the vehicle. No reply, just a sly little smirk and then you were off. 

You made it to your final destination where Reggie made you cover your eyes to surprise. “Keep your eyes closed!” he warned you as he parked the car again and got out to let you out on the passenger’s side.

“Reg, I know we’re at the beach. I can hear the waves.” You opened your eyes to find him beside you, looking up with puppy eyes. 

“Dang it,” the excited gleam left his eyes, but the puppy-effect remained. “You still don’t know what we’re doing!” It’s like his ears perked up as he said this. This boy really is comparable to a dog. 

It wasn’t like he had this big romantic gesture planned out, he just brought a beach blanket and a guitar. It turned out you didn’t really need the guitar, just the blanket to lay under the two of you as you looked up at the clear sky and star-gazed. As the early morning grew later, you had moved closer and closer to him, eventually resting your head on his chest and soaking up the syncopated breaths and heart beats of his. The warm fuzzy feeling that had already taken its place in your chest spread to your whole body as he kissed the top of your head and whispered, “thank you for coming here with me.”

“Of course,” you whispered back to him, being grateful that he couldn’t see your embarrassingly rosy cheeks. 

He took a deep breath before sitting up. “Did I tell you we’re playing the Orpheum in a couple weeks?” He was totally playing it cool, leaning back into his hands and staring off into the sea. 

“No!” you exclaimed and sat up on your knees even taller than him. “Reggie! That’s amazing! You’re literally gonna be legit rockstars!” You almost melted into a puddle at the way he smiled at you while you say this. 

“Right?! That’s exactly what I said!” he matched your energy with his excitement.

“Oh man, the Orpheum...!” you repeated, “I so wish I could come.”

“I’ll try and work something out,” he licked his lips, “I really want you to be there.”

It’s almost like his voice cracked while saying that last part, but you couldn’t be entirely sure. 

“I wanna be there, too.” Both of your voices had gotten quieter and your gaze had traveled down each other’s faces a couple inches to find each other’s lips. 

You leaned into each other fast, but slowed down as soon as you felt his breath on you. Sinking his behind your ear, he nudged your nose with his, signaling that he was ready to kiss when you were. Only centimeters away, a shout from the distance knocked you both to your feet. 

“Hey, you kids!! What are you doing out this late?! The beach is closed!! Go home!!” The figure the voice came from starting moving closer towards you. 

“Oh shit,” Reggie said under his breath through a laugh. “Go, go, go, go!” he grabbed the blanket and started dragging you by your hand towards his car. Moments of belly-aching laughter passed by before you knew the night was over.

Needless to say, even after moments like that, you and Reggie had never had “the talk” about where you stand with each other. After psychoanalyzing and overthinking the situation, you had come up with the conclusion that Reggie was just afraid of commitment. Growing up with parents who rushed into marriage just because they had gotten pregnant, he had become terribly afraid of moving too fast with someone ending up unhappy and fighting like they were. He didn’t want to end up like his parents, which is why he remained his same flirty, flamboyant self at school and with his friends. 

You had formulated a plan to tell him how you really felt about him - showing up to the show at the Orpheum early to meet him at the backstage doors, hand him a letter and a quick, yet meaningful kiss on the cheek and tell him you’ll be in there cheering him on the loudest. However, that plan kind of fell through as you found out getting tickets to an exclusive Hollywood concert hall was incredibly difficult and expensive. 

You didn’t give up, though. You and Reggie always found a way to each other no matter how hard the path was. To no surprise, you were able to say the things you wanted to say to him before it was too late...

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART TWO!!!!!

[siriuslyloonylove]

One Rule, and One Rule Only by siriuslyloonylove

Sirius Black has one rule, and one rule only, about his feelings: “never, ever bother someone with your feelings if they’re busy”. And he’s always stuck to this rule, for example when James has a quidditch match the next day, he won’t wake the boy up if he has a nightmare, or if Peter’s eating, he doesn’t talk about how his parents starved him over the summer.

But the most important person he doesn’t want to bother is Remus, the boy whose problems seem worse than Sirius’, even though Remus repeatedly tells Sirius that it’s okay. The raven haired boy doesn’t want to bother him because what if he thinks badly of me for complaining about my stupid family while he never complains about turning into a werewolf every month?

Sirius knows he’s being illogical with that last bit, but when are feelings ever logical? He logically knows that Remus would do everything in his power to help him, even on the days before and after the full. He logically knows that being in a relationship means having someone to lean on when you can’t stand by yourself. He logically knows that Remus is the only one, besides James, who can help him when he’s feeling down about his family.

But he irrationally thinks that no one loves him, even after Remus spends an hour every night before bed kissing each and every one of Sirius’ scars, telling the boy a different thing he loves about him for every scar on his body, and has yet to repeat the same reason twice even after a year of doing it. He irrationally thinks that he’s only James’ friend because of coincidence, even after he took Sirius in as his own brother when he ran away from home and held him when he woke up in sweats from a particularly bad nightmare. He irrationally thinks that Peter is only his friend because James is, even after Peter smuggles freshly made blueberry muffins from the kitchens when Sirius is having a bad day.

He logically knows that he thinks irrationally, which leads to him bottling up his feelings until one day they explode and there’s nothing anyone can do to calm him down other than getting Remus, because everyone knows the only person he’ll listen to in this state is the boy with scarred skin and curly blond hair.

The explosion happens on a late fall evening of seventh year in the Gryfinndor common room after an eventful meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore.

“Headmaster, you wanted to see me?” Sirius announces himself to the room after walking up the spiral steps that lead to the Headmasters office. He can hear his great-great grandfather muttering curses about Sirius from where his portrait hung on the wall, but chose to ignore the hateful man.

“Oh yes, thank you Mr Black for meeting me on such short notice, please sit” Dumbledore said, gesturing towards the chair sitting across from his desk. Sirius nodded politely and sat down, looking around the room to take in his surroundings as this is the first time he’s been in here without knowing he was in trouble - I haven’t done any pranks this month, so am I in trouble?

As if reading the boy’s mind, Dumbledore laughs and says “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble, I just wanted to have a chat with you about a pressing issue.”

Sirius sighed in relief, shoulders untensing for a short moment until he remembered what the man had said. “What issue? Has Regulus done something? I swear I don’t even talk to him anymore, well he doesn’t talk to me.” He said, nervously playing with the rings on his hands.

“No, no this isn’t about your brother, well it is but it is more about your family in general - I received some unsettling information this morning about the whereabouts of your parents and wanted to gauge your reaction.” The old man vaguely said, leaving the boy confused.

“Okay?” Sirius started, “Have they done something bad-well something worse than usual?” He corrected himself mid sentence.

The old man chuckled at his response, shaking his head in surprise, “I see you already have a gauge for their actions,” he smiled sadly, “But yes, they have done something that they don’t see is wrong.” Dumbledore said vaguely, again.

“Okay? So why am I here, I mean I’m in no contact with my family other than the occasional howler sent to me when Walburga is drunk.” Sirius says as a matter of a fact, not understanding why he has to be here when he could be spending his time with his friends, sadly not with Remus because he has an essay to write in the library with Lily.

“Yes, Mr Black I am well aware of those howlers - we really need to block those coming in, that’s on me - but I am also aware of the fact that you don’t speak with them.” Dumbledore agrees, making Sirius even more confused, “Can you tell me your feelings on that?”

This catches Sirius by surprise, no one has even dared to ask that question in fear that they might get hexed, and he can’t very well go on hexing the Headmaster, so he shakily answers, “Well Sir, it’s not really something that I know how to describe - I wasn’t surprised when they disinherited me, I saw it coming from the moment I got sorted into Gryffindor, but I was surprised when they disowned me, not the family itself but Reg, because that’s when I knew that he had picked a side and it wasn’t mine.”

Dumbledore nods solemnly, “Yes, and who’s side are you on?”, which was the wrong thing to say.

“Are you asking me this because I’m a Black? Are you asking me who’s side I’ll pick in the end because I have incestual blood running through my veins, or is it because dark magic was taught to me before I could speak? Maybe it’s because you think I’ll choose my brother over my real brothers - which you must know that family doesn’t mean blood, love does. And if you think that I’ll pick Voldemort's side, then you’re not who I thought you were, because I’d rather die than let my friends die.” Sirius says defensively, not caring that he’s mouthing off the Headmaster, who doesn’t even have the audacity to look surprised.

Before Dumbledore can even open his mouth, Phineas shouts, eerily calm, from his place on the wall “How dare you speak to your Headmaster that way you filthy little blood traitor, I cannot believe you come from the Noble House of Black-”

“-Silence” Dumbledore booms from where he’s sitting at his desk before Phineas could spit more curses at him. If he wasn’t so angry, Sirius would’ve poked his tongue out at him just to piss off his great-great grandfather even more.

“Now Sirius, I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but that doesn’t give you permission to talk to me like that because all I’ve done is help you.” Sirius fights the urge to roll his eyes because he knows damn well that Dumbledore only does things that will eventually benefit himself, he’s heard the exact words come from his parents. “However, I am glad to know that you feel this strongly about the war.” Dumbledore says, smiling.

“Of course I feel this strongly about the war, I’m right in the middle of it and I learned a long time ago that I can’t push myself to the sidelines because someone will get hurt.” Sirius shivers, remembering The Prank.

“Yes, and I should’ve thought of that before having you come here, well now that I know how you’re feeling, you are free to go.” Dumbledore says, making Sirius sigh in relief.

But just as he’s about to get up, he remembers what started this conversation, “What did my parents do?” he asks, looking Dumbledore strongly in the eye.

“Nothing for you to be concerned about.” Dumbledore lies through his teeth, and if Sirius would’ve been more clear headed, he would’ve pressed on but instead he nods and gets up, walking towards the staircase.

“Oh and Sirius,” Dumbledore says as Sirius is about to walk down, “I’d be more careful about who you choose to shout at, you never know if you choose the wrong person in the end” He finishes vaguely. Sirius furrows his brows but chooses not to question it, just nodding and walking down the stairs.

When Sirius gets back to the common room, he immediately goes and sits down on the comfiest chair available, not even noticing his friends trying to get his attention. The only thing on his mind is wishing that Remus was here, but Sirius knows that he won’t get to see his boyfriend until after Remus was done with his prefect rounds after the library.

“Padfoot”

“Pads”

“Paddie”

“Siri”

“S”

“Sirius”

“Black!”

“Sirius Orion Black-Potter!” James says, exasperatedly, finally catching Sirius’ attention with his name changing.

“Huh- did you just call me Sirius Orion Black-Potter-Lupin?! Me and Remus aren’t married, and why did you add Potter?” Sirius says, looking confused.

“Yes! You weren’t listening so I had to get your attention!” James says frantically, moving his hands around in exasperation. “And one, you are a Potter, two you and Moony will probably get married before me and Evans will.” James says seriously.

“I second that last one!” Marlene shouts from across the common room, stopping snogging Dorcas for a second before going back to it. Get it Marlene!

“See!” James shouts happily, excited that someone agreed with him for once, before realizing Sirius’ solemn expression. “Wait what happened? Did you just get back from Dumbledicks?” James asks, reaching up to fix his glasses on his nose.

“Yeah.” Sirius responds, “But it’s fine, I promise, we’re not in trouble” he adds shakily, quickly standing up from his seat, “I’m going to go upstairs and lay down, I’m kinda tired” Sirius ends, walking towards the stairs before anyone can say anything, especially since it’s a Friday.

He hears Peter asking James what’s wrong, but doesn’t stay long enough to hear the laters response. Sirius quickly enters the dorm room and closes the door before taking off his shoes and getting in Remus’ bed and under the covers, taking comfort in the smell of soft vanilla and chocolate.

The tears don’t come immediately, but Sirius also doesn’t realize when he starts crying so he doesn’t really know how long he’s been crying by the time he does realize it. All he knows is that he’s clutching Remus’ pillow in his arms and crying into it because I’m so overwhelmed.

Why would Dumbledore even ask me that? Doesn’t he know how much it hurts to hate someone you love? Doesn’t he know-

Sirius’ thoughts are interrupted by someone opening the dorm room door, making him settle deeper into the bed wishing that whoever it is thinks that he’s asleep. His wish goes unheard when the person sits on the bed next to him. He slowly opens his eyes to see James sitting next to him with a sad smile and Peter standing behind him with a warm muffin in his hands.

“Hey Pads, we brought you a muffin” Peter smiles sheepishly, blushing pink.

“Yeah, and we brought you a cup of your favorite tea, we had to bribe the elves with helping do the dishes for the next week.” James and Peter smile proudly, which makes Sirius start to cry even more. “Oh no, Pads don’t cry! We don’t mind it, it’s worth it to see you feel better! Well I hope you feel better…” James says, looking scared.

“No, I- thank you, I know, I just had a really hard meeting with Dumbledore and I just feel overwhelmed” Sirius hiccuped through his crying, quickly wiping away his tears. “I promise I’m fine, I just needed a moment, but siriusly thank you guys” He tries to smile at his joke, though it comes out more like a grimace.

James smiles at him softly, reaching out to gently pat Sirius’ arm and move the comforter higher up. If Sirius were clear headed, he would push James away because he’s such a mother hen, but right now it comforts him.

“Okay Pads, do you need anything else? I can take over Remus’ shift if you need him” James offers, which makes Sirius start shaking his head muttering ‘no’ over and over again, he sits up and starts quickly mumbling about how Remus is busy and he doesn’t want to bother him, James can barely make it out.

“Okay Sirius, okay, settle down, I won’t get Remus” James promises, wrapping his arms around Sirius gently trying to get him to lay back down, noticing that the tears are falling faster down his face. James looks at Peter with a look that says “go get Moony” who responds with a quick nod and sets the muffin on the bedside table before quietly leaving the room.

“Please, you can’t get him Prongs, he’s so stressed with his essay and his rounds, I don’t want to bother him, please” Sirius cries out, grabbing onto James’ wrists and looking him in the eye. “I can’t let him know how sad I am, please”, his voice breaking off.

“Okay, calm down love, I won’t get him” James says, heart breaking at the sight of his best friend crying. Sirius nods frantically, letting go of James’ wrists to latch onto the pillow again.

Remus can’t see me like this, he just can’t. Would he think that I’m weak? I mean he breaks and rebuilds his bones every month and he doesn’t complain about it, this isn’t nearly as bad as being a werewolf - family issues happen to everyone, they have to, right? What if he breaks up with me because I’m selfish and crying over something that isn’t that bad?

James can sense that Sirius is overthinking everything, so he lays down next to him and wraps his arms around the shaking boy. Fifteen minutes pass of Sirius crying in James’ arms, the later hiccups every once and a while but relatively stays silent, sobbing quietly.

The door finally opens and he gently lets go of Sirius and stands up to give Remus room to climb into the bed, James nods at him, smiling sadly. Remus just looks at him with sad eyes and gets into the bed, wrapping his arms around a panicking Sirius.

“James, you promised!” Sirius exclaims, starting to shake even more, trying to push Remus away out of fear of rejection.

“I did promise, but I said nothing about Wormtail!” James said sheepishly before running out of the room and shutting it behind him and a flushed Peter.

“Fucking dickhead” Remus hears Sirius mutter, making him chuckle sadly.

“Hi, mon étoile” Remus softly says, making Sirius blush even through the tears. Sirius lets go of the pillow and cuddles closer to Remus, laying his head on his boyfriend's chest, even though the irrational part of his brain is screaming at him for it.

“Hi, mon loup” Sirius says, blushing even more at their terms of endearment before crying a bit more.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” The curly haired boy gently says, running his fingers softly through Sirius’ hair, making him cuddle more into his chest.

“Not necessarily” Sirius whispers. He would never admit it, but having Remus there makes him feel a lot better even though his mind is racing with irrational uncertainties.

“Can I tell you what I think is going on, and you can tell me whether I’m right or wrong?” Remus says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Sirius’ head.

Sirius takes a moment to think about it, what if he’s mad at me? Or what if he pities me? But what if he loves me anyways? Sirius’ curiosity takes the best of him and slowly nods his head.

“I think that Dumbledore said something upsetting, or inferred something, about your family and you’re overwhelmed and think that I will think badly of you for having feelings, which by the way is bullshit because your family sucks and I love you no matter what.” Remus says, surprising Sirius, because that’s exactly what he’s thinking.

“What the fuck Moony? Are you reading my diary or some shit?” Sirius says while smiling, wonder and tears filling his eyes while he looks up at Remus to see his face.

“Sirius, I know you, I’ve known you for seven years and have loved you for every single one” Remus says, making the boy in his arms blush, “I know you think no one truly loves you, but I’m here to prove you wrong, for almost the billionth time by the way, because I love you and you’re allowed to have feelings. I know you’re scared that I’ll think you're weak, but you’re not. You’re the strongest person I know, stronger than me, and not to compare trauma, but hateful parents is a lot worse than my furry little problem.”

“But Remus-”

“No, you can’t change my mind about this, you are so unbelievably strong and I’m so proud of you. I don’t know what happened in the meeting, but I do know that it hurt you a lot. Fucking Dumbledore, he better stay away from the shack this next full or the wolf’ll tear him to shreds and I wouldn’t even care.” Remus interrupted him.

“Moony!” Sirius exclaimed, laughing while still crying.

“I’m serious!”

“No, you’re Remus, I’m Sirius.” Sirius said proudly, the tears stopping in favor of being proud of his joke that got old years ago.

“Fuck I walked straight into that” Remus laughed.

“You’re gay.” Sirius said feigning seriousness.

“Sirius! Stop!” Remus said, now crying from laughing so hard. “I’m trying to be- well you know what I’m trying to be, but really, I love you and nothing can get in the way of that, not your family, Dumbledore, not even Azkaban.” Years later they both would look back at this, one hoping it’s true and the other hoping the other knows it’s true, but for now they laugh with tears in their eyes.

“I love you, mon étoile.” Remus says, reaching up to wipe the tears from Sirius’ face and resting them on his cheeks.

“I love you too, mon loup, so much, thank you” Sirius says, wiping Remus’ tears away and leaning up to press a soft kiss on his lips, the love overpowering the sad feelings.

⭐︎

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second post for the night! i'm not really sure i like this one, it didn't turn out how i wanted it to and didn't even come close to what my original prompt/idea so yeah that sucks but it's alright. plus i think it was very fast paced and weird but oh well, please tell me what you think though! some people seemed to like it on ao3 (i still don't know how to link it in this post) so i decided to post it on here too :) i think i'm going to rewrite this sometime because it's not my favorite and i think i can improve!!

edit: bahahaha i accidentally named this the wrong name, it's supposed to be "only rule, and one rule only" lmao not "explosive feelings", i mean it was the original title but it didn't really fit so yeah sorry lmao

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Maybe Luke/Bobby, #28 “feeling for each other in the dark”?

hi anon my beloved. this is 1300 words of.... who knows what. ao3 link in the reblogs if you'd rather read that way!

you're my darling (i'm on standby) | lukebobby | 1.3k

When a noise stirs Bobby from his sleep, he blinks his heavy eyelids and stares into… at first, nothing at all.

Then, he tilts his head with a soft groan, feeling the stiffness in his neck, and sees the moonlight pouring in through the studio windows, strips of blue-silver in the otherwise pitch-black room. From the angle of the moon, it must be late. Maybe past midnight. He’s cold, despite the fact that he’s curled under the blanket that usually sits folded over the back of the couch.

“Who’s there?” says a cautious voice, explaining why he was woken up in the first place. It’s not unusual for one of the boys to turn up in the middle of the night, to get away from home, for somewhere safe to sleep. It makes sense that Luke isn’t sure who the shape in the dark on the couch could be. “Reg? Is that you?”

“S’ just me,” Bobby replies, and his own voice comes out raspy and groggy, the words scrambled somewhat by the yawn that escapes alongside them.

Luke sounds almost relieved. Which is weird, since Luke is usually more than happy to see Reggie. “Oh, hey, man. What’re you doing out here?”

Bobby rolls onto his back and cringes; he’s really messed up his neck curling up to the corner of the couch-bed like this. The shadows obscure Luke from his view; he can hear vaguely where Luke must be standing each time he talks, but despite trying to focus his eyes, he can’t see him in the dark. “I live here, dumbass. What are you doing here?”

To be fair, Bobby doesn’t technically live in the studio. He’s supposed to live in the house just up the driveway. The big, empty house with too many rooms. Where the space echoes. Where the ceiling feels too far away for him to possibly be safe, and warm. But anyway.

“Uh. I just thought I’d -- I dunno.” Luke is hesitant and talkative and stammering at once. Things Bobby hates to hear in him. Luke should always get to be a little overconfident, a great lyricist, comfortable performing; not small and trying to make himself smaller. “I got my grades back tonight, and -- and trying to talk to my mom about my report card just sucked, and -- it’s okay if you want me to leave.”

Bobby rolls his eyes even though he knows Luke can’t see him. Maybe because he knows Luke can’t see him, so it won’t hurt Luke’s feelings, even by accident. It sucks that things are so tough with his mom, and Bobby knows how much it’s been bothering Luke, along with his loss of enthusiasm for school. Bobby would never admit it, but it makes his chest ache a little, to think of Luke so frustrated so much of the time.

Again, Luke doesn’t deserve to be that way; he deserves to be upbeat, finding the fun in everything, like Bobby knows him at his best right before a gig when nothing in the world can bring him down. At least Luke feels how he feels; that the studio is a safe place, a sanctuary. Somewhere that feels accepting and like home, when other places feel judgemental or disappointed or empty.

He doesn’t say any of that. Instead he just says, “Christ, Luke. You’re not that much of a dumbass, right? Get over here.”

Luke doesn’t reply, but Bobby can hear him moving around. The clink of his belt buckle, the way he quietly curses as he almost trips over getting out of his jeans, because Luke always sleeps in his boxers, hates the feeling of waking up in jeans the next day. Bobby feels the couch dip when Luke sits on the edge of it, then the double thud of his shoes hitting the ground.

Then they’re both reaching around, fumbling; Bobby’s hand comes into contact with Luke’s elbow, and Luke flinches, then laughs, but not like something’s funny, more like he’s still a little too wired to be touched without expecting it. He mumbles, “Sorry, dude,” and reaches out again, and this time, they’re able to grab each other’s hands so Bobby can pull Luke down into the blanket.

When they’re lying down again, Bobby catches himself, realises he’s still holding Luke’s hand, and lets go, hopefully not so fast it seems like it burned him, but maybe a little hurried. Just because Luke and the others are more okay with touching than any other friends Bobby’s ever had (in fact, he’s pretty sure they’re the only friends Bobby’s ever had who were okay with it at all), doesn’t mean he should push his luck.

Whatever the case, Luke doesn’t seem to notice, too busy wriggling under the blanket and relaxing with a sigh. He’s a few inches from Bobby. Still, Bobby can’t see him in the dark, but he can feel how close Luke is, the heat radiating off him, the way the rise and fall of his breath moves the blanket on Bobby, too. Luke’s so warm. Bobby knows this -- they all know this -- but it still brings a relief to the ice in his stomach that he’s trying to ignore.

Ideally, Luke being here, his physical proximity, wouldn’t affect Bobby at all, not even to be comforting, reassuring. Ideally, Bobby would be immune to all these things, just like he’d be immune to the eerie silence of his parent’s empty house, and equally immune to the sense of life and home imbued in the studio by the boys and their presence over time.

For a moment it’s quiet. Bobby breathes. He tries not to be too aware of Luke, the incline and dip where he’s lying on the couch, the sound of Luke’s breathing.

Luke squirms around, like he’s not comfortable, like he’s repositioning. Then he lies still for another moment. Then he moves again.

“Luke,” Bobby grunts, turning his face to press it against the pillows on the couch, “cut it out.”

“Sorry,” Luke says, but it sounds petulant rather than apologetic, shuffling a bit more. “I just… I --”

Bobby sighs. As if he hasn’t known what Luke has wanted all along. But he can’t start offering it all the time, or Luke will start to expect it. Or worse, he’ll start to think it’s because Bobby wants it, too. “Come here.”

Again, it’s a scrambling of not knowing where the other is, limbs tangled with limbs, but Bobby manages to tuck Luke under his chin, to let Luke fling an arm and a leg over him. To pillow Luke’s cheek on his muscle between his shoulder and his chest.

Luke’s so warm, and he’s touching Bobby everywhere. It’s the best feeling in the world, which Luke absolutely can’t know. “There,” Bobby huffs, like he’s resentful, when he’s anything but. “Better?”

Luke nods, his fluffy hair rubbing against Bobby’s jaw. And he seems to mean it; besides the absent rub of his hand up and down Bobby’s side, from his waist to his ribs and back, he doesn’t seem to be full of so much restless energy anymore, and his breaths come easier, less conspicuous in the quiet. “Thanks, Bobby,” he whispers, but he doesn’t sound like he’s doubting his welcome like he did before, and that’s all Bobby could ask for.

Well, that and Luke’s warmth, his company, the way he traces a little pattern on Bobby’s side like Bobby’s worth touching. He doesn’t tell Luke that it’s fine, or that Bobby should be thanking him, actually. Instead, he just mutters, “Can we get some sleep now?”

But even if Luke dozes off pretty quickly, Bobby stays awake a while longer, just to savour the feeling of having him close without the risk of being caught, to savour the relief of not having to face the silent, empty night alone.

[wondernimbus]

tired — regulus black

pairing: regulus black x female!reader

prompt: regulus loses himself to the dark lord, but she won’t let him.

requests are open. gif credit goes to @elioperl. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

The entire castle seems to be asleep. No sound pierces the otherwise complete silence aside from the occasional hooting of an owl or two in the distance.

But in the Slytherin dungeons, a girl paces restlessly, eyes darting to and from the grandfather clock in the corner of the common room as though in anticipation for something to pop out. Worry is etched deep into the lines of her face, tugging the corners of her lips into a frown and weighing heavily on her chest.

She wrings her hands nervously the same way she has been doing for the past ten minutes now, chewing on her bottom lip and barely even registering the fact that she is beginning to draw blood. No, she can't register much, actually—not right now, when all she can think about is—

"Regulus!"

The door to the common room slides open and reveals from behind it the very person [Y/N] had been so anxious to see. Letting out a breathless sigh, she rushes towards Regulus and, without pausing to even look at him, wraps her arms around his middle.

Relief. It's a wonderful thing to feel.

"You're okay," she whispers into his chest, closing her eyes as she nods compulsively to herself. "You're okay."

[Y/N] feels the vibrations of Regulus's voice in his chest, feels his warm breath on her hair. "I'm okay, love," he whispers, placing his hand on the back of her head as he strokes her hair soothingly. "I'm okay."

The pair of them stay like that for several more moments, basking in the feeling of each other's presence. [Y/N] feels as though a heavy, suffocating weight has been lifted off of her shoulders. He's okay is all she can think to herself; it's the only thought that grounds her to reality, that keeps her sane.

When she finally finds it in herself to pull away, she keeps her hands wrapped around his torso and looks up at him.

Regulus looks tired. He always does these days, but [Y/N] still can't quite get used to it. The hollow bags, the dull hue of his skin and the suddenly more pronounced lines on his face are all signs that something is out of the ordinary, but perhaps what is most alarming is the lack of warmth in his expression. The regular person wouldn't be able to see it, but [Y/N] knows every inch of Regulus better than she knows herself, and the vacancy in his eyes is what makes her grip on his torso falter.

"What happened?"

[Y/N] doesn't know why she'd even bothered asking. She knows that like every other night he left the castle, Regulus had probably stood by the Dark Lord's side as he murdered yet another innocent person. And then a part of her wonders—had it been Regulus who had done the killing this time?

Her arms fall to her sides and she steps away from him, blinking stupidly at the thought.

Regulus's eyes skitter away from hers; she feels a mixture of dread and uneasiness blossom in her stomach like a hideous, deadly flower. He reaches up to adjust the tie around his neck, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows and opens his mouth to say something—

"No, don't," [Y/N] cuts him off, sighing. "Just.. nevermind. I don't need to know."

And just like that, the night has turned cold and the relief of seeing Regulus alive and whole is gone. The tension between the two of them is palpable—or perhaps Regulus has gotten so numb to things that only [Y/N] can feel it. The idea sends a dull stabbing pain through her chest, and she swallows, bows her head briefly, and says to the floor, "I'll turn in for the night."

"[Y/N]—"

"I don't—" she purses her lips tightly, shaking her head. "I don't want to fight right now, Reg."

"I wasn't planning on it," Regulus mutters.

They fall quiet again. The silence is everything but comfortable; there are a million words between them that need to be said—that [Y/N] wants to say—but the cowardly part of her wants to hang onto the delusion that everything is as normal as it has always been. That Regulus isn't one of the Dark Lord's many ruthless followers—that he is the same Regulus she has always known.

But he isn't. [Y/N] turns around to head to her dormitory, and the thought reverberates through her head again like a plea begging to be heard: he isn't.

It's that thought that causes her to stop in her tracks, turn around and say in a pained voice—"What happened tonight, Regulus?"

He meets her gaze—and she almost wishes he hadn't, because the look in his eyes makes the answer clear even when he refuses to tell her.

"You don't need to know, [Y/N]," he winces. "I'll see you tomorrow—"

"What happened tonight?" she repeats, voice tight.

Regulus squeezes his eyes shut like he's in pain. "[Y/N]—"

"Tell me what he made you do. I want to know."

But all he does is shake his head and turn his body away like he can't bear to face her. [Y/N] doesn't want to walk away from this like it's nothing—with tears of suppressed frustration prickling at the back of her eyes, she takes a deep breath and says quietly, "Did you kill someone?"

Regulus looks up at her, brows furrowed. "No—"

"Did you watch someone get killed?"

"I—"

"Or did you sell one of the Order members out?"

He exhales heavily. "Let me—"

"Or—let's see," her tone of voice rises into a near-shout as all of the frustration she has felt for the past few days builds up in her chest and spills out of her mouth in the form of words; "Did you torture an innocent Muggle? Which one, Regulus?"

Regulus runs an aggravated hand through his hair and groans. "Why do you need to know?"

"Because I'm SCARED for you!" she practically screams, hating the single angry tear that leaks out of her eye. "Do you even realize the risk you're putting yourself in? Do you? Because I do, and I can't stand the thought of you dying or—or worse, losing your head and becoming a mindless serva—"

"I've already told you I won't," Regulus cuts her off through gritted teeth, fists clenching as he turns away. "I know what I'm doing."

"You think you do but you don't—"

"I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!"

She pauses. Regulus has turned around to face her, eyes blown wide as his chest heaves with deep breaths. With his fists clenched painfully tight and his brows pulled in together at the middle in a nasty scowl, he advances towards her and jabs a finger at her chest—"Did you think I went into this blind? You are daft for thinking you know better than me—I know fully well what I've gotten myself into—I know that I'm putting my entire life on the line and I wouldn't have decided to take that risk if I didn't bloody know that I COULD HANDLE IT!"

She should probably back off at this point. A part of her thinks about apologizing—considers reigning it in before things get worse—but [Y/N] is tired. This isn't the first time they've argued about this. She's tired of it—arguing—but beyond that she is sick of having to say goodbye to him whenever he goes on his little quests with the Dark Lord, not knowing when she'd ever see him again or if he'd even be able to come back to her.

[Y/N] is tired.

And because of this, she doesn't back down. Instead, using as much of her pent-up anger as she can muster, she shoves him by the shoulders. It doesn't have its desired effect—Regulus is much too strong for someone her size—but he does stagger back a little.

[Y/N] is tired.

She shoves him again—and again, and again, until he stumbles and trips over the table behind him, falling on his arse. [Y/N] can't put the anger in her chest into words; all that tears its way out of her mouth is a scream of frustration, and at that moment she wants to grab Regulus by the shoulders and shake him to his senses—

But she doesn't even want to touch him anymore at this point.

"I'm doing this—" she cries out angrily, speaking through the tightness in her chest, "I'm doing this because I care about you! Do you think you're special to him? Do you think you're his—what—his right-hand man?" she lets out a mocking scoff, shaking her head. "You're just a fucking puppet to him—"

"I—"

"Something he can throw away anytime he wan—"

Getting to his feet, Regulus seethes, "You don't—"

With a pointed finger jabbing into the air at each word, she shouts in a voice so broken it's a miracle she's able to form words at all, "YOU—ARE—DISPOSABLE!"

Regulus's arm lashes out, but not to hit her—no, he grabs a vase on the table and flings it across the room, where it breaks with an ear-splitting sound into a hundred tiny pieces. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he fumes, eyes wide with an almost manic kind of anger, "He needs me—"

A humorless burst of laughter slips past [Y/N]'s lips. "Don't kid yourself, Regulus."

"He needs me—you don't understand, you will never understand but he needs me—"

Feeling frustrated more than ever, [Y/N] takes a step towards him, spurred on by the white-hot anger in her chest. "I do too!" she chokes out, finding it harder to speak as the raging emotions inside her chest threaten to swallow her whole. "I need you too—that's why I'm doing this—" She's pleading. Pleading with him to listen. To understand.

But he doesn't.

Regulus shakes his head. He doesn't even look at her; he glues his eyes to a random spot in the room, gaze stony. "Not as much as he needs me."

Silence.

Oh.

Her shoulders slump. Her fists uncurl. She feels as though all the fight has died in her—and it has.

That's it, then.

[Y/N] nods, taking a shaky breath, feeling a thousand words die in her throat. There is nothing more left to say—she's tired. And she has heard enough.

"Okay," she swallows, hands trembling at her sides. "Okay. We're done."

Regulus doesn't look up.

"We're done," she repeats, more to herself than to him, voice now void of any anger or frustration or sadness—now she just sounds tired. "I'm done. We're done."

And then, turning on her heel, she leaves the common room.

Regulus doesn't look up.