#length: novel length

[regulusficrecs]

L'Astre Noir by Calypte

Words: 39,880 (and counting)

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin/Peter Pettigrew/James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier, lots of good gen as for Regulus (none of which have been romantic so far)

What's inside: BAMF Regulus, Trans Regulus, Autistic Regulus, Seer Regulus, Animagus Regulus, Regulus Lives, Horcrux Hunting, Sirius and Regulus Both Run Away, Suicide Attempt, PTSD, Magical Theory, Non-Canon Complaint, lots of feelings and magic explained

Author's Summary:

"Sirius Black was six years old when his baby sibling was born. From the moment of their birth, Sirius swore to himself to always look out for them. By the time they're both adults, he might have lapsed in that protection briefly, but he fully intends to resume honoring it now.

Regulus Black doesn't care very much for being protected. If anything, his meddlesome older brother makes accomplishing what he has to do all that much harder, because Sirius actively tries to keep him 'safe', and safe is a rather difficult place from which to achieve much.

Or: A very non-canon compliant horcrux hunt, developing a system of magic, and focusing on the Black brothers."

[elfboypussy]

someone please tell them theres other rooms at this inn

[daily-prompts]

Typing a long document: yes. YES! Writing is my passion :)

Editing a long document: Pain. Hell. Death.

[azu1as]

once again thinking about sqq unintenionally becoming a harem master in the eyes of can qiong and civilians.

it starts off with him saving one of binghe's future wives because ! she was one of the more interesting wives !! with powers that ariplane retconned in later chapters for no reason !!!!!!

"What a sweet girl," Shen Qingqiu murmurs as he opened the thank you package delivered to him because she wanted to thank the immortal master for saving her from a beast that in PIDW had traumatized her into becoming a recluse.

Shen Qingqiu hums as he touches the new hand-painted fan. Sweat begins beading on his neck at the murderous glare his white lotus Binghe was directing at the object in his hands.

This master is sorry, Binghe, but this fan is too precious to throw!

Shen Qingqiu clears his throat, "It would be good if she sends more gifts," to her future husband Binghe, of course.

That way, his sweet bun realizes that this was nothing more but a gift to her father-in-law. Aiya, why is the glare even worse?

a week later, sqq saves another wife by complete coincidence on a trip down to the village. she insists on joining him back to cang qiong and sqq gives in because of how persistent she was.

binghe breaks the plate of snacks he was holding when he bumps into them.

sqq: oh shit binghe's jealous. quick gotta send her his way and make them spend more time together

and then the lady just asks him about sqq and whether he's married single looking for someone.

and it keeps happening. sqq isn't sure either why he's meeting all these future wives. maybe the system wanted him to give his future approval? the system was being a bitch and seemed to enjoy his confusion over the way events had been continuously unfolding.

but then one of binghe's sly wives—a scammer who airplane contradictorily describes as pure-hearted at her core—comes up to him one day and tells him, "I have your baby."

And she shamelessly does it in front of the whole cang qiong delegation.

Shen Qingqiu doesn't know where or who the shrill keening sound was coming from.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (Masterlist)

Rigor Mortis; or, how to live your life after a half-decade of decay. 

Relationships end. People die. You move on, and Miguel does too. 

(roommate! Miguel O'Hara x reader, college-ish au). 

(AO3) (Main Masterlist) (Wattpad)

Warnings: angst, smut, friends with benefits, mentions of depression, child death (not explicit), grief. 18+ Minors DNI (+ ageless blogs will be blocked)

Series' playlists:

this is what i listen to whilst I write

this is the kind of playlist I imagine RM!Miguel listens to

(i am very open to suggestions/additions :D)

00 rigor mortis,

01 or in the cold, crisp morn:

02 lady death, at the cradle of a babe.

03 they were here, she says,

04 lips blue and black and gold (18+)

05 and they were good. (18+)

06 in your half-hearted hubris, (18+)

07 all-consuming grief, (18+)

08 you had forgotten; they were good.

09 all that light lost in gaps (18+)

10 between your bodies; (18+)

11 cracks in clay, poured over,

12 tbd

13 tbd

14 tbd

15 tbd

16 tbd

17 tbd

18 tbd

19 tbd

20 tbd

Join my taglists here <3

Bonus chapters:

RM! Miguel headcanons (SFW) (NSFT)

A week of firsts (set between 06 and 07)

Bonus Miguel POV chapter

Quickie

massive thank you to my beta readers, who put up with all my stupid questions, helped me with translations, and gave wonderful feedback on where I could improve.

Thank you @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys!

[livwritesstuff]

hazel posts a tiktok captioned "true love i think?". the tiktok is literally just hazel giggling as she tries to narrate screenshots of texts between steve and eddie over the years.

here’s some of them:

Steve: I’m going to kill you.

Eddie: ?

Steve: How hard is it to shut a cabinet door?

Eddie: 💤💤💤

Eddie: think i should tell the girls about the wolf spider i found in the basement?

Steve: YES

Steve: I need two more years of hiding shit down there at least. I can sense the fear waning.

Eddie: 👍

*three minutes later*

Steve: Wait you killed the spider though right?

Eddie: *leaves Steve on read to torture him*

Steve: ?

Steve: Ed

Steve: ???

Eddie: now i did 

Eddie: but if the ladies ask no i didn’t

Steve: wtf did you order from Amazon?

Eddie: don’t open it

Eddie: it’s for the girls

Steve: Yeah right.

Eddie: excuse me

Eddie: did you go to bed without me??

Steve: Dude I totally forgot Moe’s actual name again…

Steve: The school called asking to speak with "Lucy’s parent or guardian" and I said sorry wrong number and hung up.

Eddie: dude

Eddie: wait why’d the school call about moe

Steve: She got suspended from the basketball team.

Eddie: again?

[coff33andb00ks]

Oscar + 47 41 ⭐️

47 & 41: holding onto the other’s hand so they can’t run away / loosely holding onto each other’s hand

driver + number = drabble/short fic <3

<this took forever I'm SO sorry>

"I quite like that one."

You narrow your eyes and tip your head, propping your hands on your hips. "Oscar?"

Your boyfriend gives you a gentle smile. "Yes darling?"

Ignoring the way the pet name rolls off his tongue, making your stomach feel all mushy, you huff with annoyance. You know he's only saying it to get the impromptu shopping trip finished. "You've said that for every outfit."

He's unaffected, blinking once, smile still in place. "Yes?"

"You can't quite like all of them."

"Can't I?"

You wrinkle your nose. "No."

He blinks at you, still smiling. "Ah." Rubbing his nose, he looks you over again. Then, with the most deadpan voice, "You look like shit."

"Oscar!"

"Now what?" he groans, smile finally fading.

"I just want you to be honest," you sigh, crossing to where he's seated outside the dressing room.

"Am I ever not honest?" He looks genuinely confused and it hits you - Oscar is never anything but honest. As soon as you're close enough he's taking your hand, lightly swinging it as he looks you up and down. "You always look sensational, darling. You could wrap a curtain around yourself and still be the most beautiful woman in the room."

Again your stomach feels all mushy. Again you ignore it. "Stop being ridiculous."

He stops swinging your hand. "I'm lost," he says. "Why don't you tell me what you want me to say?"

"The truth."

Standing, he tightens his grip on your hand and guides you into a slow turn. Once you're facing him again there's a grin pulling at his lips. "You look amazing."

"Yellow makes me look sick," you sigh.

"Yellow on you reminds me of the sunflowers I got you on our first date."

"Osc..." It's practically a whine.

"I love you in everything. Because - to me, honestly - you look beautiful in everything." He's speaking softly, and when he speaks like this you have a tendency to forget where you are.

"Stop," you mumble, vaguely aware of the other people milling around the shop and he's about to make you cry. He always says the right thing - you think it's because he grew up with sisters and his mom is a gem. Gotta send her a sweet text thanking her. You start to back away but his hand tightens around yours, holding you fast. "Osc–"

"You want the truth? That I can't look at any color and not think how you'd look in it? That I'll see someone else wearing the same shirt or dress as you and wonder why it doesn't look right?" He holds your hand tightly, keeping you from getting away. "Christ. You think I'm just saying bullshit, don't you? I'm not, and I'll keep saying it until you believe me."

"Oscar, you don't–"

"You took my breath away the moment we met. I got it back, but I lose it again every time I look at you." His other hand comes up, cupping your cheek. "I don't care what you're wearing, darling."

"Oh Osc," you whisper, smiling as you fight tears. "I really do love you."

[poetskings]

@jegulus-microfic | May 3: rush | 1.8k

James is in a rush to get to work, until he meets someone that makes London public transport less awful.

James is running late.

It had been a morning of little catastrophes; James slept through his alarm, his clothes were still damp from where he’d done laundry a little bit too late the day before, and Remus had drunk the last of the coffee so naturally James had to call in at the local coffee shop rather than getting it at home.

All of this to say he’s spectacularly late.

He’s got a meeting at eleven and unless some minor miracles occur and public transport actually functions for a change, he’s going to be fifteen minutes late.

He fires an email off to Lily all but begging her to cover until he gets there (she says yes, because she’s an actual literal angel and James would drop dead if he had to function a day without her) and power walks to Camden Town station, because even as late as he is, full on running is a bit too undignified.

The one small mercy of him running hideously late is that the tube station is pretty quiet – there’s only a handful of people waiting on the platform. James puts his headphones on and takes out his book, zoning out as he waits for the train to arrive.

It doesn’t take long; the Northern line is generally reliable outside of rush hour, so James finds his way into a carriage and sits down, preparing to read for the rest of his commute.

That is, until he glances around the carriage and his vision catches on the person sat opposite him.

He’s quite possibly the most attractive person James has ever laid eyes on; all dark hair and thunderstorm eyes and oh, his hands. They’re delicate and decorated in rings and gripping onto a pencil as he sketches.

James has always been a hopeless romantic; ask any one of his friends and they’ll tell you that he falls fast and hard. He’s attracted to shiny things; to pretty things, and this boy sat across from him is all of that and more.

It takes everything in him to not go and sit next to the stranger, but even he can acknowledge that it’d be a bit weird. So he completely forgets that he should be paying attention to his book and instead opts for glancing up at him every minute or so after making some vague and half-hearted attempt at reading his page for the fifth time in as many minutes.

And then James’ world shifts on its axis.

He glances at the pretty stranger to find him already looking. James offers a small smile, aborting an attempt at a wave when he’s already halfway through the motion.

The stranger laughs and it’s possibly the most gorgeous sound James has ever heard in his life. He wants to hear that sound forever. He watches as this divine creature raises his hand before mimicking his aborted move, and James is gone.

He wants to sit on this train forever and make eye contact with this angel who’s decided to grace the Northern line at eleven o’clock on a Tuesday.

The stranger breaks eye contact first, going back to whatever he’s sketching, and James wants to see those storm cloud eyes again but is equally enthralled by the graceful movements of his hand as it drags a pencil over paper.

James has always liked hands, sue him.

A few more minutes pass before James summons the courage to say something. He doesn’t know how much longer the stranger is going to be on the tube, and for all that today has been absolutely awful, he thinks, if he believed in a god, that he would believe that this was divine intervention.

He takes his headphones off, ready to give the stranger his full attention, only to realise that he’s humming under his breath. It’s liquor-smooth and James wants to drink it in forever. He doesn’t recognise the song but he doesn’t want it to end. It’s his new favourite song, he thinks.

He clears his throat and the stranger stops humming, blinking up at him. James offers a small grin again, walking over familiar ground with him. This is what strangers on the tube do; this is normal. Then he veers off course.

“What’re you humming?” he asks. The angel across the carriage raises an eyebrow, shutting his sketchbook before standing up. He steps closer, closer, and James thinks he’s stopped breathing.

He pointedly looks at James’ bag, which is on the seat next to him, and James is suddenly all limbs and no grace as he moves it as quickly as possible, drawing that laugh out once again. James wants to wake up to that sound; it’s a shot of espresso to his soul.

He offers James an earphone, and James is helpless. He takes it as the angel speaks to him for the first time.

“It’s Dreams by Hana Vu. She released an album today and I’ve fallen in love.” He tilts his head back as the song washes over him and James is only half listening, instead focused on the long line of his neck. James has fallen in love too, he thinks, but with a man, and not with a song.

James lets the song play as he continues to stare. It’s only when the stranger turns to look at him that he realises that the track has come to an end and he’s expected to say something.

“My name’s James,” he offers, and he’s sure it’s not what the stranger wanted, but it’s all he has. He is hollowed out of everything and anything that isn’t the man on the train with him.

The man raises an eyebrow but nonetheless offers his own in return. Regulus.

After that it’s like the floodgates open. This stranger has offered James his headphone and his name and James would be a fool to not make the most of this opportunity.

He’s only half paying attention to the stops as they fly past, the eleven o’clock meeting barely even registering as a thought. He hears the call for Tottenham Court Road but Regulus is talking about his course at UCL, about how he wants to be an artist but he’s promised his parents he’ll at least try to stick out the law degree before blowing his future chance at earning money to smithereens.

James quickly glances down, firing off another email to Lily and apologising profusely but something important has come up that he simply cannot miss.

He talks about how he never really knew what he wanted to do until Lily mentioned journalism. The two have set up a small independent media organisation that he loves and can’t wait to build up. Regulus looks genuinely interested, and James has waited for what feels like forever for someone to look at him like that.

James loves his friends, he does, but when he was younger he established himself as a class clown, and his wants very rarely get taken seriously. It’s nice to have someone take him seriously, to care about his hopes and dreams and to ask intelligent questions about his plans for Sectastra Media. He knows that Lily is the real brains of the business, but he’s not completely ignorant, and Regulus seems to get that.

Tottenham Court is a distant thought, and he knows it runs contradictory to the passion he’s had for it when talking to Regulus, but this man sat beside him is magical and James doesn’t want to miss this.

Their conversation winds through countless topics and James cannot remember the last time it felt this easy for him to exist in his own skin. It’s only when he starts to get a slew of messages that he realises that they’ve been on the tube for nearly forty minutes. He glances apologetically at Regulus and calls Lily back, fully prepared for a thorough bollocking, which even he can admit he deserves.

He glances at the boy next to him and prepares himself to admit that he should’ve gotten off the tube three stops ago when he sees Regulus frantically firing off a text about how he’s not going to make the contracts lecture and can someone please send him the notes.

James doesn’t even try to hide his smile as he nudges Regulus. “Running late too, huh?”

Regulus startles slightly, a rosy flush creeping up his neck, and it’s the most gorgeous thing James has ever seen.

“I was meant to get off at Warren Street.”

James stops breathing. He stops existing. His entire world has narrowed down to the contours of Regulus’ body.

Warren Street was two stops before Tottenham Court.

The words are out before James has fully processed them.

“Go on a date with me?”

Regulus looks startled, like he can’t quite believe this is real. Silence starts to stretch.

“I was meant to get off at Tottenham Court. Go on a date with me?”

Regulus starts breathing again and James’ world starts turning again.

“Alright,” he says, and it is soft and tentative and oh so fragile and James wants to frame this moment.

The pair get off the tube, waiting for a new train to take them in the opposite direction. Something has shifted between them, and James lets his fingers brush against the back of Regulus’ hand, feeling the cool bite of his rings.

Regulus doesn’t move away.

The second train comes and they don’t even consider sitting anywhere other than next to each other. James and Regulus has become JamesAndRegulus, and the conversation flows and something rare and precious has been created.

Tottenham Court approaches, and Regulus breaks conversation, turning so that James can no longer see his sketchbook as he writes frantically across the page.

He tears out the page, offering it to James. It’s a sketch of him; rough around the edges but James knows what it means. In the top right hand corner, a number is written in delicate cursive.

James looks away from the drawing, finding Regulus biting his lip, that beautiful rose blush drawn across his cheeks.

James is helpless; so far gone and without any desire to find his way back to the person he was before he stepped on the train this morning.

“Thank you,” he says, throwing his bag over his shoulder. He pulls his phone out, immediately plugging Regulus’ number in and sending a text to the angel on the tube.

Regulus nods and says, “you’re welcome.”

The tube doors open on Tottenham Court and James makes his way to his office, feeling lighter than he has in months.

Lily will rightfully be fuming, and James knows that it’s nearly midday, but he thinks that perhaps he wasn’t late after all.

He was right where he needed to be, right on time.

[intermundia]

asking anakin to rank his wife and his best friend on the same scale using the metric of "love" is wild like... sidious probably means for him to compare the strengths of two different kinds of love, but it can also easily be read as asking him to compare the relative amount of the same kind of love

[valhallaforducks]

So what if the trust between Porsche and Chay never recovers? Porsche is off living his best Mafia Wife life and pays very little attention to Chay. So Chay just stops sharing with Porsche. He stops relying on him. And Porsche just... doesn't notice. Chay and Kim get back together, but they don't say anything about it at first. They like keeping their relationship between the two of them. Chay and Kim don't change their behavior with each other around their brothers but Kim isn't into PDA so the brothers just don't notice. Khun is locked in his own world, Kinn and Porsche don't pay much attention to them. They wouldn't lie when asked, but nobody asks. They just think "Oh. The babies are friends" and never think about it again. When Chay moves in with Kim, Porsche determines the apartment is secure, but otherwise doesn't question it. The apartment is closer to Chay's school, so he just assumes Chay will be moving into a second bedroom as a roommate. Porsche never visits. Chay always comes to Porsche. The first clue Porsche gets that there is something going on with Kim and Chay is at Chay's graduation. When Chay's name is announced it's "Porchay Theerapanyakul". Porsche is baffled. He confronts Chay about it, asking why Theerapanyakul and Chay answers "I took my husband's last name". What husband? Chay reveals that he and Kim married last year in a private ceremony with a few friends and two witnesses. That he and Kim have been together for years. That he never hid it. He assumed everyone knew. Porsche asks why Chay never said anything. Chay answers "You never asked. You never seemed interested. The only conversation we've had in years has been either about you, whether or not I'm taking my guards with me, or how my classes are going. You never cared about my personal life." Porsche asks how Chay couldn't invite him to his wedding. Chay explains it was small and private because they didn't want it to leak that Wik was married. That they only invited the people who supported their relationship. That Vegas and Macau were their witnesses. That they genuinely believed that their brothers didn't care about them enough to clear their schedules and show up. Porsche asks how he could think that. Chay says "Because you haven't once in the past four years." Porsche is horrified. Kinn and Khun are horrified. They never once considered that their neglect could erode their relationships to the point that they wouldn't be invited to the wedding. They try to explain that it wasn't that they didn't care, it was because they didn't know. Chay and Kim point out that they didn't know because they didn't care. They never cared about what was going on in their lives. Porsche promises that he'll make it up to Chay, but Chay simply says "No, thank you." Kim and Chay are happy. They don't need their brothers' approval, attention or care. They have support now. They have friends. They have Vegas, Macau and Pete. It's nice to know their brothers care, but as far as a close relationship? That ship has sailed.

Porsche is devastated. He simply doesn't understand how Chay thought he didn't care about him. Chay simply points out that Porsche *didn't* care about him. Not really. He only cared that Chay was safe and that he was fulfilling Porsche's dream of going to college. That they went weeks, months without talking. That their close relationship died the night Porsche left Chay alone in their parents house with just a note. Porsche has lost Chay. Chay will still text, still visit, but he will never let Porsche in again.

[catastrophic-crisis]

A Game of Three Princes - FairyTime Studio | itch.io

The Belladonne family has had it rough for the last couple of years. After the patriarch of the family passes away and their wealth with him, they are forced to move to a little cottage in Morrowhill.  Fortunately, they might have the chance to gain back what was lost. At least that's what the letter in the mysterious box says.  And all they have to do is play a game.

This version released for Spooktober VN Jam is considered a beta, and the full version will have "more characters, tasks and customisation". This story takes place in the world of the upcoming game Glassheart.

[ineffable-rohese]

To anyone who writes short fic: thank you. Your ability to tell a story in under 10k or 5k or 2k words is a gift. You give us exquisite moments of joy, sorrow, beauty, pain, tension, heat, passion, comfort, and so much more. You allow us to see a moment in your world, and then let us go on in our own. What you write is wonderful.

[gilmores-glorious-blog]

zuko and sokka are the most “this started out as a joke ship that i wasn’t very serious about but somewhere along the way something went wrong and now they’re consuming my brain” ship of all time

[maximura]

[sophitz]

oh she’s really in it now

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

How's everyone feeling out there??

Personally I've just been kind of wanting to cry.

I have some asks in the ask box that I will get to... just taking a bit of a pause to collect some thoughts and grieve my guy. This one is hitting harder than I thought, y'all. I won't even lie.