#letting y’all know regulus didnt kill james!

[euphorial-docx]

a snippet of my jegulus b&a au 🩸

(tw for violent imagery and referenced murder!)

Four hours later at a gas station, Regulus and Sirius were eating their breakfast, which consisted of tiny, pre-packaged donuts and cheap coffee. Regulus could hardly keep the sugar and caffeine down.

At one point, Sirius carefully asked, “How are you feeling?”

Regulus didn’t know how to take that question. What part of him was Sirius asking? Was he asking about his mind, or his heart, or his body?

“Fine,” Regulus grumbled as he took a sip of the coffee. It was bitter and watery, and the donuts were too sweet.

“You lost someone, Reg. You’re not fine,” Sirius said in a gentle tone, a sympathetic one, as if it wasn’t Regulus that dug his nails into his own lover’s chest and tore the skin from bone.

“Have I ever been?” questioned Regulus, coffee mixing with the blood sitting in his gut. At least he couldn’t taste the iron anymore.

Sirius didn’t have to speak for Regulus to know the horrifying truth: Regulus is not fine, and he has never been fine, and he never will be. He’s been sick from the moment he took his first breath.

The first time Regulus tasted flesh, he was a baby. He bit his nanny so hard that she bled. But the first time he remembered tasting it, he was fifteen.

Fifteen, and a boy sat with him at lunch and talked to him. Davey was nice— too nice, perhaps. He liked Davey, and as he did with all the people he liked, he killed him. Davey was the first of many, and Barty was one of more.

As long as there were people in the world, and as long as he was alive, Regulus would continue to leave bodies in his wake.