#regulus living takes away from that a bit

[slitheringghost]

Death Eater Recruitment Age During The First War

In this meta I'll talk about Voldemort's strategy in recruiting underage Death Eaters. Fandom often portrays teenage Death Eaters like Snape, Evan Rosier, etc as officially joining Voldemort after they graduate or, at best, their 7th year.

But the most logical conclusion is that Death Eaters recruited as teenagers would have been required to take the Mark at 16 and no later - at earliest Christmas break of 5th year and at latest the summer after 5th year. Regulus joining at 16 wasn't an exception or an anomaly - it was the expectation and the norm.

Additionally, younger Death Eaters’ age during the First War is cited as reasons they couldn’t have committed violent war crimes in the short time they were Death Eaters, but this too is contradicted by canon. I’ll go through the evidence for these points below.

1.0 Voldemort’s strategy

Firstly, I really don't know why people think Voldemort would have qualms about making 16 year olds murder and torture - given that Tom Riddle himself had murdered 4 people by the time he was 16 (killing the Riddles summer after his 4th year at 15 years old) as well as tortured students ("nasty incidents") with his gang.

Yes, many characters in HBP claim that there’s no way Draco was marked because he’s only 16 and still in school - but the whole point is that they’re wrong, that Draco WAS Marked at 16, that Voldemort thought Hogwarts was a good recruiting ground, that he was creating child soldiers. The whole point is to recruit them young - when they're most vulnerable and malleable.

On the other hand, it's unlikely that they were allowed to be Marked younger than 16 - Regulus was eager to join years before he was Marked, so if there was a way for him to be initiated sooner, he would've taken it. From Voldemort's POV, he'd want the Black heir under his control, so he would've Marked Regulus as early as was possible under Death Eater protocol. (Sirius also runs away at 16, so it’s a possibility that this had to do with Voldemort recruiting him at that age.)

So presumably, Voldemort chose an age where they're young enough to be easily manipulated, but old enough to be competent as Death Eaters.

(While Tom killed his family a year earlier, his proto-Death Eater gang was involved in their first murder together at the same age - Myrtle end of their 5th year; which imo was accidental but fits the tradition).

But once they reach that age - there's no stalling. Future teenage Death Eaters would be trained for maybe months, maybe years, before finally taking the Mark at 16.

Voldemort wants his army and he wants it now. You don't get to wait around to take the mark. Even marking a Death Eater at 17 vs. 16 is a whole entire year of the war wasted where Voldemort could have them under his control and doing useful things for him.

(It's possible the recruiting pace was a bit slower pre-war, but once the war started Voldemort needed as many Death Eaters as he could get.)

Certainly no important pureblood heir would be marked later than 16. Marking an heir means Voldemort has solidified his control over that family’s wealth and political/magical resources (at least in future).

Despite being Hogwarts students, teenage Death Eaters still have substantial windows of time when they could be committing crimes for Voldemort - 2 months of summer; 1 month combining Christmas/Easter breaks; Hogsmeade weekends; maybe ways of sneaking out other weekends. (Even many adult Death Eaters do have day jobs and keep up appearances of normal lives.)

They could also get a lot done at Hogwarts itself - spywork (i.e. out muggleborns hiding their status, similarly gather info on political enemies via other students), magical research (esp. given they have access to the Hogwarts library which Voldemort doesn’t - presumably, this is a library as coveted as pureblood libraries), invent things and experiment (i.e. Snape inventing Levicorpus which we know the Death Eaters used), and most notably, commit war crimes on campus.

Examples include Mulciber and Avery torturing Mary Macdonald with Dark Magic - which clearly wasn’t an isolated incident - and Snape having used Sectumsempra so often at Hogwarts it became known as his specialty. This is the kind of terror junior Death Eaters would be expected to perform on campus during the war.

Then there's the Dark Mark itself. The way the Death Eaters are bound to Voldemort parallels house-elf enslavement contract, and the Dark Mark is the main way of enforcing it - it’s a tracking device (per Karkaroff), a communication device, a means of control, a way to make sure you don't escape. So of course Voldemort would want to brand his followers as soon as he could. (see also: this meta on the Dark Mark by @artemisia-black)

2.0 Examples

Regulus (waiting to join years earlier) took the Mark at 16. Draco, Marked the summer after his 5th year, only a month or two after he turned 16. Barty Jr. was 19 in 1982 during the Longbottom trial, so it's a reasonable extrapolation that he too was Marked at 16, particularly since he was very dedicated and loyal to Voldemort and would've been desperate to join ASAP. As Lucius was clearly instrumental in recruiting Snape (and logically there have to be Death Eaters on campus recruiting), I assume he was Marked by the time the Marauders entered Hogwarts, so likely Marked at 16 too.

Then there's the fact that the Death Eaters is a multigenerational cult and that Voldemort expects the kids of his Death Eaters to join - examples are Mulciber, Avery, Rosier. These kids were essentially born into the cult and inherited being a Death Eater, they've known since childhood that they would be expected to take the Mark, and perhaps were trained for it very early, so there's no reason they wouldn't be Marked at 16.

Of course, not all Death Eaters are recruited underage, there are plenty recruited as adults - when you're recruited matters when Voldemort actually notices you, or when he needs you (i.e. Peter was recruited much later on, purely as a spy). Other exceptions to the “Marked at 16” rule would be if the Death Eater isn't politically useful enough (heirs from less powerful pureblood families etc) and if they weren't talented enough by 16 and would require more training.

Regarding Snape specifically, he became friends with Lucius Malfoy as soon as he entered Hogwarts, and stayed friends with the Malfoys long into his adult years. Lucius would've been the main one to bring him into Death Eater circles (particularly since Lucius would've graduated Snape's first or second year, and the rest of their contact had to be out of school, perhaps Lucius inviting him to events with Death Eaters, etc.)

His friendship with his gang - Mulciber, Avery, Rosier - would function likewise, especially because they're not just any junior Death Eaters, they're the children of Tom Riddle's original gang. So, Snape was pulled into the network of pretty high ranking Death Eaters from the very start.

Snape's talent was also apparent to everyone from the get go (i.e. Sirius’s statement that Snape was famous for the Dark Arts at school, and as a first year knew more curses than half the kids in 7th year). Therefore, he would’ve been on the Death Eaters’ radar long before SWM, and there’s no reason for them to wait until then to recruit and train him. Most likely he was training under Voldemort as his student his 5th year, perhaps even 4th year, and then took the Mark summer after 5th year. (In this fic, he's already taken it by SWM, because teen Death Eaters take the Mark their first school holiday after turning 16, which was 5th year Christmas break for Snape, which is an interesting and believable scenario).

And no, his status as a poor halfblood wouldn't be an issue - canonically Voldemort makes poor Death Eaters high ranking (Snape, Amycus, Alecto), as well as female Death Eaters.

This, of course, conflicts with a certain narrative parts of fandom want to push about Snape being driven to the Death Eaters due to the Marauders’ bullying and Lily breaking off the friendship - because in any realistic scenario the Death Eaters would have recruited him long before this happened.

Regarding the level of violence teenage Death Eaters commit, it makes sense to me that you'd have to kill to be Marked - Voldemort is not going to have his Death Eaters hesitate before killing and mess up his missions (Additionally, once they’ve committed crimes for him he could use exposing them as a threat to keep them in line). I HC that you have to cast all three Unforgiveables on a victim to be Marked.

So, this means that all your faves like Regulus, Snape, Evan, Barty, that fandom often whitewashes, did in fact commit many violent war crimes while they were Death Eaters. Potentially Draco is the exception to this wrt actual murder (we know he's using the Imperius and Cruciatus 6th year), though it's always possible Voldemort made him murder someone off screen and we just didn't see it. (ETA: It’s also a misconception that Draco being Marked was only to punish Lucius - the punishment was that Draco was assigned a suicide mission that he couldn’t possibly succeed at in being ordered to kill Dumbledore. It’s likely he would’ve been Marked even without those circumstances.)

As more examples of this, even Crabbe and Goyle - who were not Marked or trained as official Death Eaters - are torturing first years with the Cruciatus their entire 7th year under the instruction of the Carrows, and presumably students in the years below them were also forced to do the same. (Crabbe also tries to cast an Avada Kedavra, so it's possible he murdered someone for the Death Eaters outside of campus.) This is further proof that Death Eaters have no issue making underage students commit violent war crimes.

3.0 Conclusion

We can extrapolate from the known numbers we have - Lucius Malfoy in his year, 3-5 Death Eaters in the Marauders' year (Mulciber, Avery, Snape, Rosier, Wilkes), Barty Jr. in the year below, Regulus in the year below that - that there were a few wannabe and/or actually Marked Death Eaters in every class year during the war.

So, Hogwarts during the first war wasn't just full of Wannabe Death Eaters - it was also full of actual Death Eaters who were already actively murdering and torturing others.

And this contextualizes the Marauders' actions in their Hogwarts years, and why they would've been pushed to that kind of violence to protect others on campus. (read more about that in this meta)

[bradleysass]

don't wake me i'm not dreaming - wc: 714

James Potter wakes up to the golden glow of morning streaming through the curtains, the scent of coffee in the air, and the warmth of Regulus curled up against him. He stretches, muscles pleasantly sore from the night before, and presses a kiss to the top of Regulus’ head. Regulus grumbles something incoherent and tucks himself further into James’ chest, his hand lazily tracing patterns along James’ ribcage.

“Mmm, five more minutes,” Regulus mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

James chuckles. “Take all the time you need, love.”

Regulus huffs but doesn’t move, and James lets him be, content to lay there in the quiet peace of the morning. Moments like these are sacred—still and warm, filled with the sound of their breathing in sync.

It’s a perfect start to a perfect day.

They spend the morning at the park with Harry, their son, who’s all wild laughter and boundless energy, running circles around them as they try to keep up. James swings him up onto his shoulders, Harry giggling uncontrollably as he clutches at his father’s curls. Regulus walks beside them, pretending to be unimpressed but unable to hide the small smile that tugs at his lips every time Harry shrieks with delight.

They go for ice cream in the afternoon, Harry’s tiny hands sticky as he insists on feeding both of them bites of his treat. Regulus pretends to be disgusted when Harry smears a bit on his nose, but James watches as he swipes at it with his tongue and wrinkles his nose in exaggerated displeasure. James laughs, and Regulus rolls his eyes, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that never leaves.

Dinner is a quiet affair at home—Regulus cooks, James sets the table, and Harry chatters away about everything and nothing, filling the silence with his bright voice. They curl up on the couch afterward, Harry nestled between them, his little fingers curled into Regulus’ sweater as his eyelids droop. James watches as Regulus absentmindedly cards his fingers through their son’s unruly hair, his own eyes soft with exhaustion and love.

It’s the kind of day James wishes could last forever.

When they finally retreat to bed, Regulus presses up against him, their legs tangling beneath the covers. James wraps an arm around him, pulling him close, burying his nose in the crook of Regulus’ neck. He inhales deeply, lets himself sink into the warmth and the comfort of it all.

“I love you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Regulus’ shoulder.

Regulus turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against James’ cheek. “I love you too.”

James closes his eyes, feeling content, feeling whole.

And then—

He wakes up.

Not to the golden glow of morning, not to the warmth of Regulus beside him, not to the distant sound of Harry’s laughter. Just silence. Just cold. Just emptiness.

His breath catches in his throat as he bolts upright in bed, heart hammering against his ribs. He reaches out blindly, grasping at the space beside him, but it’s empty. The sheets are cold. The air is still. The apartment is silent.

He blinks rapidly, his mind scrambling to make sense of it. Regulus was just here. Harry was just here. They had ice cream, they laughed, they—

James swallows hard, chest tightening painfully. His hands tremble as he reaches for his phone, fingers fumbling as he opens his photos.

Nothing.

No pictures of Harry. No candid shots of Regulus sneaking glances at him when he thought James wasn’t looking. No memories of the life he had been living just moments ago. Just empty albums, empty space, empty everything.

James chokes on a sob, the weight of the realization crushing down on him. It wasn’t real. None of it was real.

He presses the heels of his palms against his eyes, willing himself to wake up again, to go back, to return to the world where Regulus was there beside him, where Harry’s laughter filled the air, where he wasn’t alone. But no matter how hard he squeezes his eyes shut, no matter how desperately he wishes—it doesn’t change anything.

The silence stretches on, infinite and cruel, pressing in around him.

James Potter is alone.

And the perfect day he had lived was nothing more than a dream.

@greenlemon3102 @leeny-leens @accio-sriracha @samynnad102687 (if this bothers you, i won't tag you)

[otrtbs]

Would you ever consider writing a one-shot (maybe for the 1 year anniversary?) with what would have happened had reg made it out alive (I would cry)

hi! i don't know if i'm going to put out anything for the one year anniversary of art heist but if i did it wouldn't be a regulus-living-situation sorry! any situation that comes out of art heist where regulus lives is an alternate ending to me. and regulus living was just,,, never the story i wanted to write. and tbh my fear is a lot of people would read that ending and say "this is the ending we deserved" or "this is how it should've gone" or "i'm pretending this was the original ending" and none of those things feel super great i can't lie! and i feel like it detracts from the original intent of the story i wrote which makes me :((( yk? (maybe you don't know and that's okay) but regulus was always supposed to die! he was never meant to make it out alive in this story so as far as any writing from me goes in the ahb! universe,, regulus will be dead

[my-castles-crumbling]

black - November 7th - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 356 - trans!regulus (fits in with my longfic, Clandestine, but can be read alone)

Regulus was ten when he'd chosen his first name. When he'd sat in Sirius's room, hidden away from the rest of the world, and picked the name that reflected who he truly was, and not who his parents wanted him to be.

The first time he'd heard Sirius refer to him with his name, the euphoria had been inexplicable. A rush of joy and emotion so intense he'd lost his breath for a moment. That was his name. Not the name his parents had given him at birth.

But even as he grew and learned to not only celebrate his name, but who he was, something still wasn't perfect. Because as amazing as it was to be referred to as Mister Black, he was still saddled with the surname of his parents. The parents who hated him. The parents who hurt him and screamed at him, just for being himself. The parents he'd finally physically escaped, but was still connected to through a stupid name.

So, really, when the opportunity arose, the decision was the second-easiest decision he'd made in his life. Second-easiest, of course, only to saying, "Yes" when James had gotten on one knee only a few weeks prior.

"I want to take your last name," he whispered one night, curled in James's arms as they sat in their small living room, a fire roaring in the fireplace.

He felt his fiancé's breathing still. They hadn't discussed it at all, up until this point, and he knew bringing it up so randomly was probably a shock.

"Baby..." James whispered, pulling back so they could look at each other, "...you know you don't have to, right? I mean, we have options, we can talk about it. We can- we can hyphenate, we can both keep out own names. Hell, I'm so fucking thrilled to be marrying you, I'll be James Black, if that's what you-"

But Regulus was sure. "No," he shook his head, smiling a bit. "I want to be Regulus Potter."

A stunning smile spread across James's face. "Gods," he murmured, eyes twinkling, "that sounds so fucking good."

Regulus couldn't help but agree.

[ethereacals]

MANIAC

the one where you don't go back to the boys.

part two of the conan gray series

“i wish i were heather” out now!

synopsis: after getting cheated on by your previously expected soulmates, a change in perspective occurs and you find yourself falling for a different set of three.

warnings: foul language, slander on the marauders, sexual innuendos, mentions of smoking, a small taylor

"PEOPLE LIKE YOU ALWAYS WANT BACK WHAT THEY CAN'T HAVE."

Leaving Hogwarts early for Christmas this year was not something anyone could've forshadowed.

You, the girl who spent most of her time studying for her upcoming OWLS in November, had disappeared without a trace.

Of course most of your close friends knew where you were, and some not so close friends did aswell.

"She can't just run away from her problems." Said Sirius, his leg bouncing anxiously from the news Regulus had just sprung onto them.

"Sirius, It'll be fine, okay? When they get back to school, we can formally apologize and move on, right?" Remus attempted to reassure Sirius, but he in reality he felt quite crestfallen.

Lily sat quietly, already regretting her decision to do this with them.

In her head, she knew they had every intention to not cheat and solve things the right way— but she hadn’t helped.

It all started one night at a loud and ear-shattering Gryffindor victory party after a successful win for their Quidditch team.

She got drunk, and they were completely wasted.

And you weren’t there.

So their drunken minds believed it would be a missed opportunity if they didn’t take their chance with Gryffindors golden girl.

Lily knew she should’ve said no, she should’ve gone back to her dorm and hid from them for the rest of eternity.

But fate clearly had other plans.

And after secrets, longing stares, and lingering touches that the truth finally came to light.

and it was all at your expense.

“So— When will our Reggie be joining us, Meadowes?” Evan slurred, his voice carrying a heavily intoxicated tone.

“Soon enough, he’s got one more OWL to complete and then he’s on his way.” Dorcas mused as she gently pet the head of her tipsy sleepy Gryffindor girlfriends head as she babbled on about Quidditch.

Evan nodded drunkenly— before taking another swig.

Dorcas seemed so peaceful with Marlene— who had surprisingly accepted her invitation to spend Christmas with the Slytherins, though Marlene truly wasn’t prejudice against them like others were.

They seemed so… in love.

You had love once.

Remember?

They’re gone.

Remember?

They’re gone.

“I— I had love… once—“ You hiccuped sadly, beginning to sob for the umpteenth time this evening.

You were extremely drunk, who could really blame you?

“Aww… Treasure…” Barty (who surprisingly was very sober) cooed, encapsulating you in a bear hug as you cried into his chest.

“How many more times is she going to do that?” Asked Peter, who— by the way: lied to his friends and said he was going home for Christmas.

He was only visiting for the night, as he was currently visiting his girlfriend— Sybil Trelawney who lived in town.

“Who knows, Pete. Who knows..” Evan slung his arm around him.

“This should be the last time before she realizes that she doesn’t need them, that’s what the sprites are telling me.” Pandora smiled, petting your hair gently in comfort.

“Pettigrew, you should turn back to your rat-pack and tell them they’re trash.”

You spat, in broken sighs.

Obviously, Peter felt a bit of offense to the rat slander but alas— they weren’t aware of his rat-secret.

Quite a shame.

“Sure thing, L/N.”

'FEELS LIKE WE HAD MATCHING WOUNDS BUT MINES STILL BLACK AND BRUISED.'

on December 19th, Regulus had finally arrived at Barty's flat he'd rented for the holidays.

Marlene, Dorcas, and Peter had their departure just the day before, leaving just you, Pandora, Evan, Barty, and Regulus.

Pandora had just wished you all goodnights and dream blessings before nodding off to your shared room for your stay.

"So, anyone up for some firewhiskey?" Offered Evan, who held a giant bottle of the substance.

"Just a small bit, Rosie." Barty accepted his offer graciously.

"Need anything, amour?" Regulus mused in your ear, by far he was the most comforting one. As the other two just distracted you with their own twisted ways of thinking and chaos.

"I'm alright, Reggie. Thank you." You nodded politely, you had felt incredibly off this break.

Though they all weren't stupid, they knew why you were acting strange.

Every year since third year; You and the boys would leave Hogwarts and spend Christmas with the Potters.

Snowball fights, roaring fires, Effie's hot cocoa, the memories echoed through your brain like they were music blasting from your headphones.

Every time you closed your eyes to sleep, you would see endless slideshows of everything you had ever done with them.

The nights of passion, the hugs, the pre and post-quidditch game good luck and good job kisses, the play fights, the happiness.

Your life was black and white before you met them, they brought the color.

But they showed you colors they knew you couldn't see with anyone else.

Well, besides your 'best' friends.

Were you really just that? Just friends?

You were a year younger than the Marauders, same year as Regulus.

and Sirius would be so pissed off if he found out that you were sleeping with his brother-

...

Wait.

Who gives a fuck about Sirius?

Who cares what intelligent insult will come out of Remus' mouth?

And James, he liked Regulus once.

They'd hate you.

But,

Maybe you wanted them too.

So, you ended up taking a few shots of firewhiskey.

Okay,

More than a few.

"Um- actually, Reggie. I- I do need something." You slurred, holding onto your sober ex-boyfriends brother best friends nimble shoulders like he was your lifeline.

"Yes, amour?"

"I want a kiss."

Evan spat out his drink back into his cup, and Regulus' face heated up significantly.

"I'll give you a kiss..." Barty clambered over his boyfriends as his cold, veiny hands meet your waist.

His hands skim your body up and down, before pecking your lips softly, as if he was asking for acceptance.

"Can I kiss you?" Barty spoke so softly, he may have been chaotic and insane- but he was extremely cautious and respectable with things like this.

"I-I wanna taste you so bad.." Evan cooed at Barty's sweet words, as he held an extremely flustered Regulus in his arms, watching the scene in front of him unfold.

"Barty- please, kiss me." You mewled, barely finishing your sentence as he dived into your lips.

His lips surprisingly tasted like cherry chapstick, even though he had just been chugging firewhiskey.

After feeling like an eternity, Barty broke your kiss.

"I've wanted to do that since fourth year." He mumbled drunkenly, gazing up stupidly and lovingly at your blush-kissed face.

His kisses were heavenly, and so were Evan's, and Regulus'.

And needless to say, you didn't return back to Pandora that night.

'YOU'RE POINTING AT THE STARS IN THE SKY THAT ALREADY DIED.'

The return to Hogwarts was an awkward one at that.

But returning back to Hogwarts feeling happier than ever with your boyfriends? That was the best return you could make.

Hand in hand with Barty, you strutted into the Great Hall.

Evan and Regulus trailed behind, as you rambled on and on to Barty about something.

James stared your direction, and you unfortunately met his gaze.

He wasn't dense, he could see how your bright smile seemed to dim.

He smiled, softly.

James knew that they'd never get you back the way they had you.

He should've realized that you were the light of their lives.

Everyone should've woken up to see you.

They hurt you.

And this was their price.

They had to watch you thrive, with three other men.

Who would treat you like a goddess, something they never sought time for.

taglist; @hisparentsgallerryy @cultish-corner @asexualbuthorny @prettylittlewrites @champomiel @hellothere7 @anakinsluvrr @lady-balem @awkwardalie @nosteponduck @eeviee4 @dreamygirli3 @navs-bhat @angemyrtille @mrssslangdon @siillly @makanirock05 @hcqwxrtss123 @wolfyychan @nislame @lalalandincraz @rorywright @ih3artpjo @st4r-girl-official @pain-in-the-ashe

[crescenthistory]

okay idea…c1 with regulus and a reader who is either very clumsy or very sick and he can’t help but dote over her and take care of her <33

terribly sorry if you are not a moonwater girlie, but this request has been hijacked into a poly!moonwater fic 🙏 i love them, your honour

Prompt: C.1 "I want nothing more than to kiss away all your pain"

Words: 1.9k

Warnings/tags: fem!reader, references to injuries, light sickness/illness, regulus being a Worried Boyfriend, remus being a Doting Mediator, light hurt/comfort, nauseating amounts of fluff, sirius being the butt of the joke, literally just cuddles massages and kisses

You apparently see your daily life as one long continuous extreme sport, and thus, so are the lives of Regulus and Remus, whose hearts are always working overtime to handle the stress of your near-death experiences.

When Regulus ran up to Remus, slightly red in the face and already huffing and puffing, Remus knew for a fact that you were the cause of his concern. Others might have read his body language as angry, but Remus knew this to be his boyfriend’s mother hen instincts kicking in – which means his were about to, too.

“What’s she do?” Remus sighed as he stood up from his seat outside the Great Hall, already throwing his bookbag over his shoulder, prepared to walk off.

“She’s in the infirmary,” Regulus hissed, grabbing Remus by the arm to pull him away, barely slowing down his gait.

“Oi! You can’t just run off!” 

Remus, admittedly, had forgotten that his best friend – his boyfriend’s brother, mind you – was sitting with him and was in the middle of chatting his ear off when he spotted Regulus. “Sorry, Pads, I’ll catch you later,” he tried calling over his shoulder as Regulus wholeheartedly ignored him.

“What?! Hey, no–” Sirius all but sputtered, self-righteously undignified by the whole ordeal, as if this was not a common occurrence by now. James began patting his back not much unlike one would do a child, placating him with whispers, no doubt about all the mess they could get into without Remus’ supervision.

“Why is she in the infirmary?” Remus asked when he was able to return his full attention to the boy whose breathing was still a bit too quick for comfort. He had half a mind to begin taking care of him instead and calm him down, but for now he settled for pulling him further into his side as they walked.

“I don’t know,” Regulus bit out through clenched teeth. “Pandora just told me in passing that she had seen her in there. I have no idea what she has gotten herself into this time. You’re lucky I walked past you on the way there, otherwise you would have been the last to know.”

Remus mulled over it for a moment, visualising your schedule that he memorised months ago. “She had Care for Magical Creatures last period, right?”

Regulus’ head whipped to the side to stare at him incredulously, clearly not having pieced that together yet. Though it was hard to tell, it seemed like his face had paled. His grip on Remus’ arm migrated to interlocking their elbows so he could more effectively drag Remus along as he sped up at the thought of what could have happened.

One of the things Remus most enjoyed about your relationship was getting to know the small quirks of yours and Regulus', your signs and your tells. For Regulus to forget all about Remus’ aching joints and rushing him along without ample support meant that he was beyond stressed on your behalf. Had Regulus not been here, Remus would have been much the same, thoughts able to spiral into the darkest of places when left to his own devices – alas, he was, so Remus collected himself appropriately and tried to be the grounded one.

“She’ll be alright,” he murmured as they turned the last corner before the infirmary. 

“She bloody better be,” Regulus huffed, voice laced with concern and poorly-hidden devotion. “Because I will be having a word with her about not prioritising her health and safety.”

Remus squared his shoulders, prepared to play the dual role of mediator and concerned boyfriend, perhaps with a touch of nurse as well, if necessary. 

“Good afternoon, Poppy,” he greeted warmly when he saw Madam Pomfrey by the entrance, giving Regulus’ arm a subtle tug to make him slow down. If there was one thing the matron did not tolerate, it was disturbances in her little wing.

“Oh, Remus, are there any concerns today?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion as this visit did not line up with their usual cycle of visits. Quickly, her eyes drifted over to Regulus, whose face was still noticeably flushed and realisation dawned on her face. “Ah, I see. She’s to the left, three beds down. Though I would advise keeping a distance.”

Regulus’ eyes widened almost comically at the last comment, letting go of Remus in favour of stalking down the hall as quickly as Madam Pomfrey would allow. Remus had to admit his own heart twisted in worried confusion as he gave a small smile and thanks before hurrying after his boyfriend.

He saw Regulus slip between some white privacy curtains mere seconds before he was able to follow himself. “Amour!” he heard Regulus say, abandoning any attempt to conceal his worry.

Remus held his breath as he drew the curtain back just enough to enter your little makeshift alcove, expecting the worst. Surely, he would find you with your leg elevated in a large cast, bloodied bandages all over your face or arms, hair half burnt off.

Instead he heard a small sniffle and your flushed face came into view where it poked out from beneath heaps of wool blankets.

“Oh, hi lovelies,” you murmured in the sweetest tone but with the most painful rasp Remus had heard in a while. It was immediately followed by a fit of coughs.

“Oh, dovey,” Remus cooed pathetically, rushing to sit down on the side of your bed. Regulus was still standing by the curtain, mouth slightly agape as he took in the scene.

This clearly was not what either of them had expected.

“What happened to you lovely girl, hm?” Remus whispered to you, perhaps with a small hope that you would reply in an equally low tone and spare your clearly hoarse voice.

You were truly bundled up under mountains of blankets, messy hair, glossy eyes and runny nose the only visible part of your body. The bedside table was littered with used handkerchiefs, paper towels and small plastic cups used to take potions. Some bottles of potion Remus identified as cold treatments were placed on the edge with a little note with jotted down time stamps. You looked absolutely, thoroughly poorly. 

“I’m sick,” you said hoarsely. You made a noise that sounded like choked laughter, likely at how terrible you sounded, but it just made it worse.

“We can see that, amour.” Regulus’ voice had become ten times softer, and he sat down on the other side of the bed from Remus, reaching out to cup your surely overheated face with his perpetually-cold hand. Remus could feel the phantom touch as his fingers ghosted over the apple of your cheek. 

“Don’t be rude,” you whispered cheekily, but you leaned into his touch with a sigh. “I look perfectly happy and healthy.”

Regulus snorted that laugh he only ever let slip around you two. “You do look beautiful as always. Though perhaps a bit like you’re on your deathbed, which you know you’re not allowed to be.”

You groaned, stretching your body beneath the tangle of blankets. “Ugh, I know,” you huffed, sounding pained. “I feel like it, too. Woke up feeling a bit, I don’t know, stuffy, but I tried to head off to class,” – Regulus made a disapproving sound, but let you continue – “and then I just really came down with it in Astronomy. Didn’t even make it to Magical Creatures.”

At least that's a relief.

“You should have stayed in bed if you woke up feeling poorly, love,” Remus murmured, fishing for your hand beneath the blankets. You happily gave it to him and his heart keened at how you seemed to crave his touch. 

“But I didn’t know I felt poorly poorly. Just… poorly. You know?”

Remus sighed almost dreamily. “I don’t.”

At the same time, Regulus softly said, “You’re not making much sense, pretty girl.”

You groaned your way through a voice crack, turning your head into the pillow on the side Regulus wasn’t lightly caressing. “I feel like the fever is eating at my brain.”

Both boys hummed in sympathy. Remus fought the urge to manhandle Regulus into bed beside you so he could hold you both and shield you from the world.

“It’s alright, amour. Sirius has survived 17 years without a brain, so you can surely manage at reduced capacity for a day or two.” He wore a cheeky smile from the beginning of the sentence, evidently proud of the opportunity to jab at his older brother.

Remus would have to deny it if Sirius asked, but he barked a laugh.

“That’s not very nice, Reggie,” you almost whimpered, though you too were smiling too. “I don’t have the energy to tell you off for being mean to your brother.”

“Well, at least we got one good thing out of your suffering,” Regulus offered, and his smile grew genuine when you laughed at that and lightly shoved his shoulder – clearly his end goal.

You furrowed your brows and brought your unoccupied hand up to rub by your temple. “I really do feel horrid, though. I might have to stay here overnight.”

“You poor sweet thing,” Remus cooed in sympathy. He lightly guided your hand back to lay on your chest as he brought his hands up to massage carefully at both of your temples, moving his thumb in slow circles. Regulus let his hand move from your cheek to drift through your hair so Remus could have space, calming the chaos of frizz caused by your time in bed. Your sigh sounded heavenly as you sunk further back into the pillows and let your eyes drift shut. “We’ll take care of you, yeah? Nurse you back to health?”

You hummed your approval, small tug at the corner of your lips that warmed his heart.

Regulus used the spell Sirius had constructed to expand the infirmary beds during Remus’ monthly stays, adding enough space for him to lay down beside you. When Sirius made it, it had originally been with the intention of the Marauders huddling together, but it was quickly capitalised on by you and Regulus. He got more comfortable beside you, head on the pillow next to yours where he continued playing with your hair in that way he knew soothed you. Remus remained sitting so he could give your face and scalp ample attention, relieving you of your tension headache with practiced ease.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, voice muddled by your hoarseness and oncoming sleepiness. Remus just smiled in response, trusting you would know it even when you couldn’t see it.

“Of course, amour,” Regulus whispered in turn, sounding more emotional than usual when confronted with your vulnerable state. This was nowhere close to the scolding-deserving mishap he had expected to find in the infirmary. “I want nothing more than to kiss away all your pain.”

“Well, you shouldn’t,” you huffed then. “I don’t want you getting sick.”

Regulus let out a breathy laugh and kissed your forehead defiantly, bottom lip brushing against Remus’ thumb and shooting pleasurable tingles up along his skin. “Too bad, lovely. We’re both staying here.” He looked up through his long eyelashes to meet Remus’ eyes, face scrunching up in affection with his lips still ghosting over your skin.

“Most certainly,” Remus whispered over the honeyed love that coated his throat and tongue. “We will nurse you right back to health, dovey. You just sleep now.”

[lexithwrites]

some moonwater nsfw for fun:

“Have you heard from Remus today?” Peter asked, fiddling with his keys as James bent down to tie his laces tighter. The last thing he needed was to eat shit on the way to the pub. Sirius would never let him live that down.

“He said he wasn’t feeling social,” James told him, “you know how he is. Prefers staying in.” They both glanced down the hall to Remus’ room, hoping he was feeling better.

“Should we ask him if he wants paracetamol or something? What if he has a cold? What if it spreads!?” Peter’s eyes went wide but James just snorted.

“Pete, you have the best immune system out of any of us, chill.”

“But I could be a carrier!”

“You’ll be fine, I promise.” James sighed as he stood up right. “Don’t bother Remus, leave him be.” James patted his back and nodded to the door, leaving Peter little chance to turn back now.

“Fine, but I’m buying him some tissues if he starts sneezing.” And they shut the door.

Silence.

A moan.

“Remus, they could still hear—“ Regulus gasped when he felt Remus rub deeper inside him and he slapped a hand over his mouth again, muffling the groan. Remus, lying across his back and looming over him, panted into Regulus’ ear.

“They can’t hear you…promise…please let it out, I want to hear you.” He nuzzled Regulus’ neck and his boyfriend sighed, letting his eyes roll back as Remus’ rocked his hips down. “Doesn’t it feel good?”

“Mhm.”

“Love.”

“Yes!” Regulus pulled his hands away to grip the sheets, fisting them as Remus reached places inside him he’d never felt before. “Oh god, you’re so deep—“

“I know, I know.” Remus pushed his nose against Regulus’ cheek and groaned. “I’m close.”

“Me too.” Regulus turned his head a little and pulled Remus down by his hair for a kiss, making him buck his hips hard. “Come on, puppy.”

“Oh—“ Remus’ snapped his hips forward again. “I’ll cum if you call me that.”

“Good.” Regulus smiled and Remus couldn’t resist him when he smiled. It felt too good, and being called puppy…it melted him. He moaned and gripped onto his boyfriends hips, fucking him into the mattress properly now that the others were gone. They’d silently been lying like this for almost ten minutes whilst James and Peter tottered about getting ready, and it had been almost impossible to not pound Regulus with how much he had been tightening around him. The fear of getting caught somehow turned him on, and Remus wasn’t complaining.

He liked the thrill of it too.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum—“ Regulus choked out from beneath him and Remus bit his lip as he fucked him a little harder, wanting to feel him go over that edge.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He mumbled and groaned as he felt Regulus start to cum, which immediately triggered his own orgasm. They moved together, rocking and shaking as they slowly came down. Remus’ arms were struggling with his weight and Regulus smiled, gently tugging him back down so he was lying on him again.

“Feel better?” He teased, referring to his friends conversation. Remus chuckled, kissing across Regulus’ shoulders and neck.

“You’re evil.”

“I’m convincing.”

“Fucking when my friends are here is dangerous, you know.” Remus pointed out.

“Like they don’t get laid.”

“They do, but we’re louder.” Remus nipped Regulus’ ear to hear him sigh.

“You are, maybe. I can control myself.” Regulus leaned up for a kiss, knowing Remus would take that as a challenge.

What could he say? He was competitive by nature.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic april 1 - spring - 1340 words (of domestic bliss with little harry)

Sundays are slow in the Potter household.

One would think James doesn’t like the pace of it, always having to do something usually, always active, moving around or talking, tugging at his loved ones or caressing their skin, but he does. It hasn’t always been this way but with getting older and especially since they’ve become parents James had noticed how his body and mind welcomed the one break in the week to just shut off and recharge.

They’ve fought their way through a cloudy March and with the arrival of April, spring is finally here. 

James loves spring. People always assume it’s summer—and credit to them, because he does—but there’s just something about the rebirth of everything that comes after the long gloomy fall and icey winter period. The birds chirp with their return and in search for a mate, insects buzz lively and everything brightens with colour. 

Like clockwork, Harry appears in the threshold of the master bedroom at around 7 am, deer plushie in a tight grip by the antlers, his dark mob of hair messy as anything. He drowsily rubs the sleep from his eyes, face squished and James sometimes thinks he might die from how adorable their four year old is.

He grabs his glasses, pushes back the sheets and plants a gentle kiss on Regulus’ cheek where he’s still knocked out like the dead and smushed into his pillow.

Harry pads wordlessly into the living room, James hot on his trail. Though while Harry goes in search of a children’s book for James to read to him, James makes a detour to the kitchen. He fills them two bottles with the tea they let out on the counter overnight, preparing one for Regulus as well for when he wakes up. He cuts up some fruit and vegetables and grabs the packets of rice cakes and crackers from the pantry, loading it all on a tray before he sets on to the living room.

Harry is already curled under the big fleece blanket they keep there, grinning when James rounds the corner with their pre-breakfast.

“Morning, dada,” he greets, sweetly.

James’ chest swells. “Morning, pumpkin,” he returns, pressing a kiss into Harry’s hair, setting down the tray. Before he takes his place next to his son he walks over to open the big terrasse glass doors. 

“How’d you sleep?” James asks, plopping down next to Harry who immediately snuggles closer, plushie still in hand.

“Good,” Harry sighs contently and James can’t help himself when he brushes some of his hair back from his forehead and kisses him again. “Can you read to me?”

It’s a hidden object book but James knows what he means. He grins, “’Course, Hazza.”

They do just that for a bit, James describing what’s going on on the pages, creating a story for recurring characters. Skipping back and forth with Harry randomly pointing out another happening of the drawing while he’s munching away on his rice cakes and cucumbers and the occasional grape. 

It’s still mildly cool, especially when a faint breeze picks up, moving the grass outside and swishing inside but Harry’s still wearing long pyjamas and James knows he’ll tell him if he’s too cold. He simply burrows further under the blanket and into his father’s side. James runs hot anyways.

When Harry decides they’re done with books James puts on a nature documentary for them.

They’re teaching about the strength of some rainforest ant species when Regulus shuffles into the room, arms wrapped around himself and eyes nearly closed.

“Morning, Papa,” Harry whispers excitedly, already wiggling out of James’ embrace even though he knows Regulus will join them there in just a moment.

A smile tugs at Regulus’ lips as he blinks his eyes open, dark lashes fluttering agonisingly beautifully and giving way to soft grey. James swears they get a little more blue every time right around his birthday, like Regulus is just another subject to the changes of spring.

“Mornin’,” Regulus sighs happily when he squeezes Harry against his chest, peppering the side of his head with kisses until he pulls away, tugging Regulus along to James.

His eyes are already closed again when Regulus nuzzles into the crook of James’ neck, pressing a kiss there before he gets comfortable.

“Morning, love,” James murmurs, voice thick with adoration, audible even to himself, and he strokes Regulus’ exposed arm softly.

The spell of Sunday is thick in the air, heavy in their bones. 

Harry, usually the most lively child, always animatedly talking about something or the other, giggling, making jokes or doing mischief, is quiet now too. It’s routine, the way he grabs for Regulus’ arm and squeezes between his two dads, waiting for James to absently card his fingers through their hair and send them back to their slumbers.

It doesn’t take longer than five minutes before Harry’s breaths are deepening and it’s marvellous. Magical in the way that Regulus’ presence seems to calm him so much it pulls him back into another nap.

James smiles so wide, looking down at them like that for so long that his cheeks start straining.

He watches a bit more of the documentary, snaps a few obligatory pictures of them on his phone and sends them into their family group chat. Monty sends back a pixelated picture of a zoomed in shot of Effie in the garden, Sirius replies with a shaky snapshot of him running with the dogs and Remus answers with an aesthetically pleasing picture of what seems to be the breakfast he’s preparing for the two of them.

James’ belly growls hungrily at the reminder and when his gaze falls on the lone grape sitting in the bowl on the tray he decides it’s time for breakfast. 

It’s nothing short of artful the way he extracts himself from besides Harry and Regulus without rousing them before he heads for the kitchen.

He grabs flour and sugar, eggs and milk for pancakes, as well as the bacon, bagles and cream cheese. It’s meditative to put together all the ingredients, set the table and assemble syrup and blueberries and chocolate chips. Halfway through James remembers the leftover quinoa in the fridge and between placing patches of batter in a sizzling pan he whips them up a quick salad as well. 

The smell in the kitchen is divine and James has already made acquaintances with the joyful bluetit in the tree by the window by the time Regulus comes into the kitchen with Harry on his hip. He’s babbling now, talking Regulus’ ear off by the looks of it and Regulus hums and nods and gasps at all the right places, looking ridiculously endearing with his curls mussed and an imprint of the couch cushion lining his cheek.

“Morning, champ,” James teases, smacking a loud kiss over the line in Regulus’ cheek.

Regulus growls quietly, grinning despite himself, “You’re lucky I love your cooking so much.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky,” Harry parrots, grinning widely.

James tuts with faux affront, “What kind of sentiments are you teaching our poor child, Regulus. I’ve been standing in this kitchen for hours now. How about a ‘Thank you, daddy’?”

“Thank you, daddy,” they both reply in unison though Regulus’ has a decidedly different tone to it that makes James point the spatula at him in warning.

Regulus just smirks before he leans heavily into James’ side and rips a piece of pancake off of the ones already on a plate, blowing on it before dividing it in half and feeding it to Harry and himself.

James tasks them with setting out glasses of water and orange juice, mugs for tea. On Sundays coffee is banned in the Potter house. Regulus thinks he can wind himself out of his caffeine addiction that way.

When everyone is done and everything is in place they all sit down together, legs tangled under the table, smiling warmly at each other over their plates of delicious food, the spring breeze ruffling their hair and clothes pleasantly as it drifts through the open window.

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡Cat's First Snow ❄️

You've ordered: cookies and cream ice cream! enjoy!

"Twenty-four to twenty-five, bae. Just stay with me." (partly inspired by "24 to 25" by Stray Kids)

animagus! Regulus Black x reader | word count: 1,492 words

Summary: it snows at hogwarts! but, guess who hates the cold? ❄️ (silly little drabble)

Warnings: a bit of cursing (lighthearted)! not really warnings, but: reader's favorite season is winter, regulus takes the animagus form of a cat.

Note: i swear, i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this 🤭 yes, i'm reusing marauders/ skittles characters. again, i'm still getting caught up on marauders/ harry potter stuff in general. this fic is based on this post i made.

The courtyard grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were blanketed in a pillowy white layer of snow. Excitement emanated through the corridors and hallways of the school as students and faculty alike talked of taking pleasure in the wondrous winter display. Basically, everyone was ready for classes to end so they could go out and play in the snow.

Well...not everyone.

You see, your boyfriend, Regulus Black: he hated the cold. Hated with a capital H. Ever since he was a child, the Slytherin was never fond of the chilly weather of fall and winter, always wrapped to the nines in layers of sweaters and jackets. Not even a single wisp of cold air could touch him without him kicking up a fuss.

Obviously, this was a problem since you lived for the cold weather of winter. Getting to splurge on cute, fluffy sweaters, tins of flavored hot chocolate mix, and jars of various teas made your heart pound with joy. And of course, playing in the snow was just as fun.

"Boys versus girls snowball fight in ten minutes!" Evan yelled, throwing his scarf around his neck as he, Barty, and James made a mad dash down the hallway.

"Losers have to shove snow down their shirts!" Sirius chimed in, he and Remus following after the others.

"They're so immature." Pandora grumbled, rolling her eyes as she watched her brother run down the hallway like an idiot.

"I know right....But, we're winning the fight, right?" Marlene asked, nudging Dorcas in her side.

"Oh definitely." Dorcas responded, Lily giving them a thumbs up before looking around.

"Have any of you seen Y/n? I could've sworn they were just with us." Lily asked, the girls looking around in confusion.

Just where were you?

"Reg, please? It's not even that bad, I swear!" Oh, there you were, currently trying to persuade Regulus to come outside with you guys.

You knew it was a futile effort. He'd never agree.

"I don't care, I said I'm not coming." the stubborn Slytherin refused, tucking himself deeper into the blankets he had piled around him.

"You're being ridiculous."

"And what's so ridiculous about not wanting to freeze to death?" he quipped in a rather dramatic tone that made you bite back a laugh.

"Fine, I'll just go out myself. And have fun with the others..." you said, glancing over at Regulus to see if your words had affected him.

"Alright, have fun."

You frowned, getting up and buttoning up your jacket. "But even though I'll be with them, I'll still be a little...lonely. If only my boyfriend would come and keep me company...." Nothing.

"Y/n, I know what you're doing." he said, not even looking up from his book.

"Fuck you, Regulus Black." you groaned.

"Maybe after your snow day." he smiled to himself, knowing he got under your skin as he heard the door slam shut.

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"Look at him, all warm and cozy, while we're all freezing our asses off." Evan huffed. You were all peering in through the window of the common room, watching a familiar black cat enjoying the comfort of the fireplace.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" barty whispered to you, a sly grin on his pierced lips.

"Absolutely." you nodded, giving him the same grin as the two of you slipped away from the group. Yoi waited in the corridor, peeking through one of the windows.

Barty quietly stepped into the room, the black cat now stretching out on the couch. The Crouch boy carefully tiptoed over to the couch, leaning over it and giving regulus a smile. "Hey Reg...don't hate me too much after this."

The cat equivalent of a scream was heard as Barty swiftly scooped up the poor feline, shoving him into his coat. You had to try your best not to burst into a fit of laughter, your hand slapped over your mouth and body shaking. You watched as Regulus hissed and reached out with clawed paws, trying to scratch at Barty, who was scrambling out the door and over to you.

"Damn, he put up a fight." Barty huffed, handing you the obviously unhappy cat.

"Thanks, Crouchy!" you smiled, now shoving Regulus into your coat. He let out a meow of protest as you ran down the hall and out the large double doors.

You could feel Regulus jerk in your arms as the cold air washed over his fur. You pulled him out of your coat, playfully swinging him in your arms. then he saw it: the pile of snow you were about to fling him into.

"3...2...1!" you yelled, tossing him into the pillowy white snow. A startled "mrow!" left the black cat's throat as he landed into it with a soft thud. He poked his head out, the snow on his head practically melting with how seething he was.

"Oh come on, Reg. Have some fun! Look-? Wait, where's Sirius?" Your question was answered as you saw Padfoot running over to the group and slamming into the pile of snow.

Laughter filled the air as Padfoot popped his head out and shook out his snow covered fur that resulted in Regulus getting covered in snow once again. Padfoot playfully nudged the angry cat, licking over his fur. You knelt down and gently scooped Regulus back up into your coat, planting a soft kiss onto his head, right between his ears. the look on his face said "I hate you" but in a "You're lucky I love you" way.

After hours of snowball fights, snow angels, and building snowmen, the sun was finally beginning to set on your wintertime activities. Yoi all made your way back inside, Regulus snuggly tucked into your coat and poking his head through your scarf. When you two arrived at his dorm, he hopped out of your arms and scurried into his closet. A few moments later, regulus walked out, wrapped in a blanket and shivering rather dramatically.

"Don't ever take me out in the cold again." he said through chittering teeth.

"But, wasn't that fun? At least you were warmer in your cat form, no?" you teased, walking over to him and cupping his face in your hands.

"Cold!" he yelped, jumping back from the frosty touch of your fingers. A smirk formed on your face as you looked at your hands, then back at your boyfriend.

"Y/n, don't-" you stepped closer to him, his eyes darting around the room.

"Y/n- AH!" you immediately charged at him, chasing him around the room as he desperately tried to avoid your freezing cold hands.

"Get over here!" you giggled, cornering him against his bed. you moved to straddle him, your thighs on either side of his waist.

"Wait, Y/n, please!" the poor boy pleaded, trying not to laugh at the determined look in your eyes.

"I can't hear you!" you teased, quickly slipping your hands underneath the blanket and pressing them to his sides.

"GAH!" The yelp that left his throat had you laughing till your throat was sore, Regulus grabbing your wrists to get you off of him.

"Ah! Please, have mercy!" Regulus mumbled weakly, a shiver running through his whole body as you leaned closer to him, that ridiculous smirk still on your face.

"Want me to help you warm up?" you whispered, your warm breath wafting over his lips that twitched in response.

"I guess..." Regulus mumbled, trying to fight the smile forming on his lips.

You smiled at his attempt to seem upset, leaning over and softly kissing his pouty lips. An audible "mmm" rumbled through his chest as he slowly forgot about the icy touch of your hands that were creeping up his bare sides and focused on the warmth emanating from your body and the kiss.

As you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, you felt Regulus sneak his hands underneath your shirt, pressing his semi-cold hands to your skin. You yelped softly into the kiss, pulling away to scold him.

"Mhm, how do you like them apples?" the dark haired male quipped, earning himself a playful pinching of his sides.

"How about we both get changed into more comfortable, warmer clothes and we can cuddle up together in the common room, hm? I'll even make you that tea you like so much." Regulus couldn't pass up that offer.

"I'll think about it." That ultimately meant yes, your lips now pressing to his nose before letting him go.

The rest of the night was spent in the common room, you and the others chatting the night away and laughing over steaming mugs of hot chocolate and freshly brewed tea. Regulus was practically glued to your hip, curled up under a blanket with you and letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

Even though he didn't like the cold, Regulus always felt all warm and fuzzy inside seeing just how happy you were whenever winter rolled around. ❄️

© m00nkissedlover, 2024

[thebestofoneshots]

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Read Gilded Constellations on AO3

Read the French Translation by @nagareboshi-chiyo

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x reader / Wolfstar x reader

Chapter average: 5k - 6.5 k

Content: Smut in later chapters, Poly!Marauders, throuple, graphic descriptions of violence, MAJOR and minor character death (this is The Marauders Era guys, you know), jealousy, angst, pining, love triangle, LGBTQ+ themes, The Wizarding war 1.0, implied child abuse, possible proofreading errors, mental health struggles, hurt no comfort, hurt with comfort, period typical attitude, first war with Voldemort, canonical character's death, fluff, Requited Love, F/M/M, mostly canon-compliant.

Status: Ongoing (Weekly updates)

♡ Indicates SMUT

PLAYLIST

01 | Summer Breeze

02 | Escape

03 | Bitter Sweet Symphony

04 | Rainy Days and Mondays

05 | Good times

06 | Crazy Little Thing Called Love

07 | Peaceful Easy Feeling

08 I Fooled Around and Fell in Love

09 | The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke

10 | Black Dog

11 | Do Ya

12 | You really got me

13 | Rebel, Rebel

14 | Maybe I’m Amazed

15 | No One Like You

Interlude (Q&A Event)

16 | Boogie Wonderland

17 | Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

18 | Friends will be Friends

19 | Silver Bird

20 | Bad Moon Rising

21 | Fox on the Run

22 | Long Long Way From Home

23 | Hungry Eyes

24 | Peace of Mind

25 | I’ll get Even With You

26 | Hooked on a Feeling

27 | Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

28 | If You Want BIood, (You’ve Got It)

29 | With a Little Help From My Friends

30 | Bridge Over Troubled Water

31 | Strange Magic

32 | Come a Little Bit Closer

33 | More Than a Feeling

34 | You Belong to Me

35 | Chill of Desire

36 | Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

37 | Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

38 | Let the Good Times Roll

39 | Running With the Pack

40 | Hot Stuff

41 | Urban Adventure

42 | Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

43 | Sympathy for the Devil

44 | No One But You

45 | Hold The Line

46 | Comfortably Numb

47 | Let Me Take You Home Tonight

48 | Dust in the Wind

49 | High Hopes

50 | Love the One You're With ♡

51 | Some Guys Have All The Luck ♡

52 | Twentieth Century Fox

53 | Too Much Love Will KiII You

54 | Sail Away Sweet Sister

55 | Noone Together

56 | Who Wants To Live Forever

57 | Play the Game

58 | Staying Power

59 | Break on Through

60 | Stone in Love

61 | Mr. Blue Sky

62 | Born to be Wild

63 | Something About You

64 | Put Out The Fire

65 | Spell Binder

66 | Hot Love

67 | What's On My Mind

68 | Mysteries and Mayhem

69 | Livin' Thing

70 | Back Talk

71 | We've Only Just Begun

72 |

73 |

74 |

75 |

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BONUS TRACKS:

Your Theories, The Note, The Costumes, Sirius and the Chimney, Sirius and Vix after the bad moon, Evans and Vixen, Remus and Vixen at the infirmary, Remus holding Sirius at DADA, Remus and Sirius’ height difference, the FOXSTAR picture, Art by @nineloseteeth, We're going French,

Leave a comment telling me if you want to join the tag list

A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

[maxdibert]

hi! i saw in one of your posts you wrote about how Sirius Black had no reason to bully Snape and i thought about it…..i mean doesn't his hatred seem too personal? we have Lupin who has no contact with Snape after book 3 but Sirius goes crazy when Snape is around and they are alone so he can attack him (kitchen scene in book 5). and he knows so much about him: who he hung out with at school, his relationship with Lucius; at the same time he doesn't know about the mark, about how Severus was the one who brought the prophecy to voldemort that led to Lily and James death. and yes he is stuck at age 21 but even then they graduated school and as he says they never heard of Snape in those years. It seems a bit odd: don't bullies usually try to downplay their role in what they did to the victim, or even try to make it look like nothing happened? And he and Remus try to do that with Harry, but at the same time he seems incredibly proud and pleased with himself when he talks about the prank. One moment confused me when I was reading book 3: when Sirius has Peter at gunpoint with his wand, he is extremely focused on him. He doesn't take his eyes off him, because it was for this moment, the act of revenge, that he escaped from prison. As far as I remember, Harry describes it as "nothing could distract him at that moment" or something like that. But as soon as Remus even mentions Snape, Sirius' attention suddenly switches: he turns away from Peter and asks about him again. Or when he watches Snape during the OWL exams??? Especially when Rowling describes his reaction after the exam, when he sees him under the tree, as the reaction of a dog to a rabbit. He seems so obsessed and like something happened between them that really got to him. Or he's just as intolerant of half-bloods as his family. I completely agree with you that Sirius bullied Snape simply because James did it and he found it funny. But his hatred seems excessive, he has no reason to hate Snape so much. James has his excuse about Lily, but Sirius has none of that. But he still tries to kill him and it doesn't really matter hides, lol. I've read an opinion that he hates him because of his unrequited feelings for James, where Severus is the reason James even noticed Lily, which I don't really agree with, to be honest. Sorry, it got too long, ahaha. What I want to ask is: do you have any thoughts on this?

Well, the explanation for his relationships at school is quite simple because Sirius doesn’t leave home until he’s 16. Considering that his brother goes to Slytherin and that Narcissa is his cousin, it’s not strange to deduce that Snape’s name, along with other Slytherin students, probably came up at some family dinner/lunch/meeting. Like, talking about who in Regulus and Sirius’ year might have ‘potential,’ for example. It seems coherent to me that, considering Sirius’ environment until he leaves to live with the Potters, he’d be aware of certain things.

Leaving that aside, let’s talk about Sirius Black, because I think in recent years the Marauders fandom has ruined this character, and he’s actually a character with a lot of depth. Or at least more than many others in the saga.

(This is gonna ne so fucking long lol)

Sirius is a posh kid. He’s a posh kid who is embarrassed about being posh and feels guilty about it. He’s the typical rich kid from a conservative family who’s had issues with his mom (in this case) and his way of getting back at everything he felt was missing from his childhood is to vehemently oppose everything he thinks she represents. And the funniest part is that (as is often the case) his problem with his mom is that they both have a terrible character, which is why they clash. Because Sirius has the kind of terrible character that is incompatible with anyone else who has the same terrible character. But despite everything, he’s still a posh kid. Because he comes from an aristocratic family and was raised with those values of superiority. Because he’s never had to fend for himself (he leaves home but goes to another rich family, the Potters, and on top of that, his uncle Alphard leaves him his entire inheritance, so he has plenty of money) and he has always enjoyed the privilege of his surname, his blood status, and the fact that he’s (according to Rowling) super handsome. In other words, Sirius belongs to the ruling class and behaves with the same arrogance, entitlement, and lack of empathy that is typical of that class. No matter how much he tries to deny it and distance himself from it, he can only do so on a superficial level (Muggle posters, being a Gryffindor, enchanting a Muggle motorcycle) because when it comes down to it, he has no idea how to deconstruct himself, nor is he interested in giving up or losing his privileges, because he’s quite comfortable with them. He’s like the typical aristocratic kid from an Opus Dei family who thinks he’s better than everyone around him because he votes for the left and has been to four protests, but at the end of the day, he still lives a bourgeois life and doesn’t understand the root of social problems.

That said, let’s move on to James.

I think James was everything Sirius wanted to be. No, not be, I think James had everything Sirius wanted to have: loving parents, a family that wasn’t involved in a cult, a pleasant environment that allowed him to do whatever he wanted instead of being constrained by traditions and social norms, liberal and progressive ideals… James had the life Sirius had always wanted, but with one key detail: he was also rich and from an old, prestigious family. This is super important because when Sirius chooses his rebellion partner, he doesn’t pick some random Muggle-born, or a half-blood, or someone from the middle or lower class. Sirius chooses as his best friend someone who embodies everything he wants to be/have, but who at the same time belongs to his same social stratum, both economically and in blood status. Sirius chooses a future Gryffindor rebel with very different ideas from his family, but ironically he chooses like anyone from his family would: someone with money, status, and power. And I find this super amusing because it’s so coherent with his character. I mean, if Sirius were a real person, he would’ve done the same thing because guys like him are like that: the kings of cognitive dissonance and double standards.

Sirius always wanted James’ validation, or at least that’s how I see it. I think for him, feeling that James approved of what he did was a way to legitimize himself as someone different from his family. James represented the “progressive” social elite that Sirius aspired to by rejecting the traditional values imposed on him. So, unconsciously, he understood that if he did everything James wanted, and I’ll go further, everything he thought James would like, then he would distance himself from that Black image and gain validation as something entirely opposite. The problem is that Sirius, unlike James, was raised in an environment where ethical and moral values were very different, and where it was clearly established that certain people were “the other,” an “other” sociologically understood as the idea that some humans are inherently less than others. And although Sirius consciously rejected this idea, unconsciously he had been raised with it. Therefore, consciously, he didn’t reject people based on their blood status because he could identify that as something his family would do, and family = bad. But unconsciously, he was conditioned to see other people as non-people, and this is where Severus comes into play.

James dislikes Severus because he sees him as an obstacle/threat/nuisance in his crush on Lily. By default, and because of that constant need for validation from James, Sirius also focuses on him as a hostile element. And if he’s hostile to James, who in a way is his moral compass, then that guy must be trash because, of course, it’s obvious. But not only that, this guy is also a half-blood and poor, so poor he wears old clothes. And on top of that, he’s ugly. And not very masculine. So he has all the elements for Sirius, the aristocrat raised in luxury under the premise that he’s better than others because of his origins, to see him as “the other” and exercise all his power and privilege to oppress him without remorse, because for him, it’s justified. Justified unconsciously by the education he received, and consciously because if James hates him, there must be a good reason to hate him, so everything is justified. If we add to that the fact that Severus desires everything Sirius has always tried to reject: more social status, more recognition, power, belonging to Slytherin, rubbing shoulders with important wizards, forgetting the Muggle world he grew up in… well, we have a molotov cocktail for him to make Severus’ life unbearable. And Severus is an easy target for someone like school-age Sirius Black: he has no friends, no surname, no parents to protect him, and no stable socio-economic situation. Sirius can project all his frustrations onto him without any consequences. He can completely dehumanize him and stop seeing him as a person. He can behave like a Black.

I think the Prank is a good example to see the difference in upbringing between Sirius and James. Both are bullies, both are abusers, both have zero remorse when it comes to using their status and power to make life impossible for those they believe deserve it. But James was raised in an environment where he knows that actions have consequences, that you can’t cross “certain lines,” such as murder, for example. Sirius was taught the opposite—he was raised to think that the life of “the other” holds no value, and that is something that in his story with Severus goes too far. James understands that death is something serious and can bring terrible consequences, while Sirius does not. For the Black family, death is nothing if there is a reason for the person to die, and Sirius has his own reasons for playing with Severus’ life the way Bellatrix would play with the life of any Muggle-born.

(This is something I really like as well—the way Sirius and Bellatrix are fundamentally alike, and how little that’s discussed. But I’ll leave that for another time, otherwise I won’t finish.)

I don’t think it’s a matter of Sirius being obsessed with Snape, but rather that, for all the reasons I’ve explained, he uses Severus as a catalyst for his repressed anger and that sadism he inherited from his family. He can’t channel it toward anyone else because that would lead to absolute rejection from James. Since James hates and despises Severus, he’s never going to question Sirius for channeling all his pent-up rage on him, so it’s a free pass. If he had reached that level of sadism with someone who didn’t provoke the same level of animosity in James as Severus did, he would have risked confronting his biggest fear: that James would see him as a Black, not as Sirius. Losing his validation as the black sheep to become just another one of them. So he focuses on Severus because it’s a safe bet.

Moving on to their relationship during the book canon…

We don’t really see a proper confrontation until the fifth book. I mean, in the third, it shows that Sirius still sees Severus as “other” by dragging him along while unconsciously banging his head. In the fourth, there’s that scene where Dumbledore forces them to shake hands, and it’s clear they still hate each other. But it’s not until the fifth book that we get a real confrontation, where Sirius loses his temper. I think this has a lot to do with (drumroll) once again that cognitive dissonance between what Sirius always wanted to be and what he actually is, especially given the role he plays on the chessboard at that point in the story.

Sirius did everything he could to distance himself from his family, and the climax of that was joining the Order of the Phoenix and actively fighting against that same family, several members of whom were “soldiers” for the opposite side. Sirius is finally achieving what he wants—to be a hero. To stop being part of the elite dark villains and instead be part of the heroic elite. The noble of high birth who fights valiantly for the good of the realm, just as James was destined to be. It’s the climax, the absolute fulfillment of his adolescent desire. But then he’s thrown into Azkaban, and when he gets out, he finds that the poor, weird kid addicted to dark arts, who sucked up to future dark wizards, who hung out with purists and even joined the “bad side”—the side of Sirius’ family, the villains—is now the most important member of the Order. He’s none other than Dumbledore’s right hand. He’s a double agent risking his neck every day and has more responsibility than anyone else. That kid Sirius called Snivellus for being a crybaby has more guts and more endurance than most people. The one who always wanted to be part of the elite Sirius hated is now the one playing them all, making them look like idiots. The one who looked frail and effeminate turns out to be more “manly.” And that hurts. That hurts a lot. You go to prison, and when you get out, the person you didn’t even consider a person not only ranks above you, but is playing in a league you can’t aspire to. And the best part is, Sirius can’t fully accept it because he’s still Sirius—a classist, privileged aristocrat incapable of accepting that (as is only logical) the poor working-class kid turned out to be far more useful than him in both politics and war.

To me, it’s poetic justice.

[bradleysass]

hair - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 689

James Potter had always been a bit reckless. His wild hair was a reflection of his untamed personality—chaotic, energetic, and charming in a disheveled sort of way. But lately, he’d grown tired of battling his mane every morning. It was untamable, sticking up in every direction no matter how much he tried to smooth it down.

This morning, James decided he’d take matters into his own hands—or rather, his wand. He vaguely remembered a spell he’d read in a book about hair styling, something about taming unruly locks. So, he woke up extra early, careful not to disturb the peaceful slumber of his boyfriend, Regulus Black, who was nestled under the covers beside him.

James padded over to the bathroom, wand in hand, muttering the incantation under his breath. “Capillus Mutatio!” A soft glow emanated from his wand, and he felt a strange tingling sensation on his scalp. For a brief, blissful moment, he thought it had worked.

But when he glanced in the mirror, his heart sank. His hair was no longer wild and messy, but it was also no longer brown. Instead, it was an obnoxiously bright, golden blonde.

“Oh no,” James groaned, running his fingers through his now flaxen locks. “Oh, no, no, no.” He scrambled to recall the counter-spell, but the words slipped from his memory like water through a sieve. Frantically, he tried a few guesses, but none of them worked. The blonde hair remained, mocking him with its dazzling brightness.

A groggy voice from the bedroom made his stomach drop. “James? What’s going on?”

Regulus’s voice was soft and sleep-laden, but James could tell he was waking up. He’d been hoping to fix this disaster before Regulus noticed, but there was no time now. Bracing himself, James stepped back into the bedroom.

Regulus was sitting up, rubbing his eyes. His dark curls were mussed from sleep, and the blanket was draped lazily over his lap. He blinked up at James, his gray eyes narrowing in confusion.

“What the bloody hell happened to your hair?” he asked, his voice sharp with disbelief.

James offered a sheepish smile. “Good morning to you too, love.”

Regulus’s eyes widened as he fully took in the sight before him. “It’s… blonde.”

“Yeah,” James said, scratching the back of his neck. “I tried to do a spell to tame it, and, uh, it backfired.”

Regulus stared at him for a long moment before sighing deeply. “Of course, it did. Why didn’t you just ask me to help?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” James mumbled, shifting his weight awkwardly. “I thought I could handle it.”

Before Regulus could respond, the door to their flat’s living room opened, and Sirius’s voice rang out. “Oi! Is anyone else awake?”

James’s face paled. “Oh no. Sirius is going to have a field day with this.”

Regulus smirked, his initial irritation giving way to amusement. “You’re right. He absolutely is.”

Moments later, Sirius appeared in the doorway, his eyes instantly zeroing in on James. His expression morphed from confusion to delight. “Merlin’s beard! What happened to you, Prongs?”

“Nothing,” James said quickly, trying to sidestep Sirius’s scrutiny.

“Nothing?” Sirius repeated, laughing. “Your hair’s bloody blonde! Did you finally decide to embrace your inner diva?”

James groaned, running a hand through his hair again. “It was a mistake, alright? The spell backfired.”

Sirius doubled over with laughter, clutching his stomach. “This is brilliant. I’m never letting you live this down.”

“You’re not helping,” James muttered, his ears turning red.

Regulus, to James’s surprise, let out a soft chuckle. “You do look ridiculous,” he admitted, though his tone was fond.

James sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine. Mock away. Just… can someone help me fix it?”

Regulus slid out of bed, crossing the room to stand in front of James. He reached up, threading his fingers through James’s blonde locks.

“I suppose I could be persuaded to help,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

James grinned down at him, his embarrassment momentarily forgotten. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Don’t push your luck, Potter.”

[florsial]

unfortunately, I cannot get behind the psycho Bartylus train. At least, most of the time. But! I see them very much as high school romance/sweethearts. Just the classic runaway love story. To me, they are the few sweeter ships.

However, I always saw Bartylus as the long-term, high school forbidden romance that ends with them running away and living out their happy life far away from shitty parents. They are each other's fairytale prince and princess!

They are the more realistic. Like any long-term relationship in high school, you can easily point out in the halls or in your friend group. There aren't any complex feelings of loyalty and devotion that borders on unhealthy (maybe a bit but never too much). If anything, their relationship is the most normal thing about them.

People tend to forget that Regulus is this wealthy, posh, basically royalty heir with the most insane imagination when he's studying in the library with Barty who is commonly viewed as the next leader of the Wizarding world, one of the smartest students of his age, and also a huge fucking pretentious dick that scares the first years. Their characters are strange to other people but it's quickly forgotten when they see Barty and Regulus at Madam Puddifoots' sitting across from each other, kissing and holding hands, and drinking tea from each other's cups.

I think it's also what makes them more tragic in a canon-compliant universe. They were just teenagers in love.

I also don't see them being this interested in these [insert disturbing thing] as a metaphor for their love because they are each other's comfort space, where there isn't anything complex, just simple, soft love like the ones you see in movies or read in books.

Bartylus takes the most vulnerable parts of Barty and Regulus and runs with it honestly.

[itsjaywalkers]

nada que perder

jegulus microfic (not really micro tho you guys know me lmao) | 3.4k | very questionable age gap (it's left ambiguous in this one but reg is 17 and james is . 31) (nothing actually happens between them but just in case), unrequited love (or is it..), loosely based in this spanish show i've been obsessed with lately

James climbs up the rusty stairs of the building as he rolls his shoulders lightly, in an attempt to get rid of the sense of unfamiliarity hanging off him. He supposes that he just needs some time to become used to the new place, but he spent years and years of his life coming over to Alphard’s old house. And besides, this flat isn’t exactly an upgrade from the little estate where the man had been living in less than a month ago. 

But, then again, this development is partly James’ fault, so he probably shouldn’t be sharing his opinion on the place, or the new neighbourhood for that matter. It’s already bad enough that he, Alphard and Frank have all been transferred to Orion’s station. Shitty flats and mildly dangerous neighbourhoods are the least of their worries. 

He rubs at his eyes, fingers slipping under his glasses, before he lets out a soft sigh. Honestly, this whole thing feels like a fucking joke. If it weren’t for Alphard and Frank, James would’ve already quit. Sure, he loves his job—most of the time, at least—but not enough to bear this kind of torture. He has to answer to Lucius Malfoy now, for fuck’s sake. The thought of it is almost enough to make him nauseous. 

James sighs one more time, and then he finally knocks on the door. He hears some shuffling inside nearly immediately, and some muffled yelling that drags a little smile out of him. 

The door opens less than twenty seconds later, James being greeted with a pair of steely eyes and tousled black curls. 

His grin widens. 

“Oh,” the boy mumbles, leaning against the doorframe. He doesn’t reciprocate James’ smile, but he visibly brightens, gaze turning soft around the edges. “Hi, James.”

“Hey,” James greets him back with a slight tilt of his head. “Is Regulus now, right?”

The boy nods, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah,” Regulus replies, suddenly sounding a little shy. He averts his eyes, and James has to bite his tongue to stop himself from poking fun at him. “You like it?”

“‘Course,” James says without missing a beat, and he truly means it. It took a bit to get used to, that’s why he refused to visit Alphard for a couple of weeks, until he was sure he wasn’t going to slip up. But he believes it suits the boy perfectly. “It’s really pretty.”

“You think so?” Regulus questions, staring up at James with big, shiny eyes. There’s a soft pink spreading all over his cheeks. 

“Absolutely. And I can still call you Reggie.”

“Always,” Regulus agrees with a tiny nod. The corners of his mouth twitch, and even though his lips don’t completely curl upwards, James still takes it as a win. “Do you want to come in?”

James chuckles gently. “That was kinda the plan, yes.”

The blush on Regulus’ face worsens, but then he’s stepping aside, turning his head away from James. Still, the tip of his ears are red, and all that colour seems to spread even down his neck and to his collarbones, which are peeking from his white shirt. Regulus doesn’t seem to be wearing anything apart from his briefs under them, so James assumes he must be getting ready for school.

“Where’s your uncle?” James asks as he begins to make his way down the hall before Regulus slides in front of him, halting his advances. 

“Why? Are you here to pick him up?” Regulus arches an eyebrow. James represses a snort at the way the boy has to crane his neck up to look him in the eye. He thinks Regulus might be trying to appear intimidating. 

“Yup. First day on the new station and all, figured it would be nice,” James says with a shrug. “Also, he’ll end up being late otherwise.” 

Regulus huffs. “That is if he even shows up.”

“Oh, he will. I’ll make sure of it, trust me.”

“Good. Andy will kill him otherwise.” 

“I’m surprised she hasn’t yet,” James admits, amused.

“She nearly did, when my uncle first dropped the news,” Regulus sighs, tucking a curl behind his ear. “She wasn’t very happy about moving. And seeing the flat definitely didn’t help.”

James clicks his tongue, eyes roaming briefly around the hall, and even though there isn’t much to see just yet, he understands Andromeda’s reluctance quite well. The walls are stained near the ceiling, and most of the paint is chipped. He catches sight of a box at the end of the hall, probably because they still haven’t had time to finish unpacking. The carpet looks old and worn-out and like it hasn’t been cleaned in years. James has to make an active effort to not turn his nose up at the sight of it.

“C’mon, it’s not that bad,” James mutters, avoiding Regulus’ eyes as he runs a hand through his hair. “It has a—a certain charm. It’s sort of, um, cosy? In a way? Yeah, ah, very cosy, and, and welcoming—”

Regulus lets out a little snort, but before it can develop into a proper laugh, the boy covers his mouth with a hand, pressing harshly and schooling his expression into something more serious. 

“Shut up,” Regulus murmurs, gaze downcast. James can only smirk at him, before he attempts to pull the boy’s hand away from his face. He doesn’t get far, because Regulus swats his fingers, but it’s worth it nonetheless, if only because of the roll of eyes and the tiny smile it earns him. “You’re not funny.”

“Really? Because you were laughing,” James teases him cheekily, crouching slightly to take a peek at his grin.

Regulus turns his face away, but James doesn’t miss the way his lips spread a little wider. 

“Barely,” the boy sniffs. “This place fucking sucks.” 

James feigns a gasp, clutching dramatically at his chest. “My god, Reggie,” James scolds him halfheartedly. “The mouth on you. What would your uncle say?”

“Please, my uncle is even worse,” Regulus scoffs. James can only chuckle under his breath because, well, yeah. Alphard swears even more than James, and that’s saying a lot. 

“Still. You used to be so proper with your words,” James points out, raising both eyebrows. “Such an obedient boy.”

“Well, not anymore,” Regulus retorts with a defiant raise of his chin. He’s still blushing, however, so it doesn’t have much of an effect. Not like Regulus could ever inspire in James anything apart from fondness. Maybe exasperation too, on occasion, because he does love to be difficult just for the sake of it. “I’m almost an adult now, you know.”

James snorts loudly, a furrow immediately appearing in Regulus’ brow. “Is that so?” 

“Are you mocking me?” Regulus inquires, voice tight, his mouth twisting into a pout. 

“Never.” James places a hand over his heart, shaking his head as he bites the inside of his cheek to keep his grin at bay. “It’s just—you’re barely seventeen, Reggie.”

“Like I said, almost an adult,” Regulus insists with a firm nod. 

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.”

“And you know what that means, right, James?” 

Regulus’ expression shifts as he takes a step closer, until there’s nearly no space between their bodies. Regulus watches him from under his lashes, eyes wide and bright and puppy-like, the red on his cheeks still very much there, and James tenses up almost immediately. 

He considers stepping away, but ultimately decides against it. Showing any kind of reaction will only get Regulus’ hopes up, regardless of rejection. James must remain either indifferent or mildly amused. The boy will see anything else as a possible open, and James can’t have that. Not when they’ve been treading this very thin line for nearly a year. 

James had hoped that this… change, or discovery, or whatever Regulus prefers to call it, would help with his silly crush on James, but apparently coming out as a boy hasn’t diffused Regulus’ feelings. If anything, it only seems to have made him bolder. 

“Sure,” James replies, shrugging one shoulder, his tone casual. “It means you’re gonna be eighteen.”

Regulus exhales loudly through his nose, and James has to repress the sudden urge to coo and pinch his cheeks. 

He looks so disappointed. James hates to be the one to put that sort of expression on that adorable face, but he refuses to entertain his delusions, no matter how much he cares about him. 

“Yes,” Regulus agrees, stilted. “Legally an adult.”

“You’re always gonna be a kid in my eyes.”

Regulus’ frown becomes even more pronounced, and his pout comes back full force. James’ heart gives a painful flip at the sight, and he can’t help but hate himself a little because of it. 

“Anyways, are you gonna let me through, or…” James says, scratching at the side of his jaw, at his stubble. “No offence, Reggie, you know I love our chats, but—”

“In a moment,” Regulus mutters, squirming a little in place before he puffs out his chest and meets James’ gaze head on. “You haven’t greeted me properly.”

James blinks at him, and then raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure I said hi as soon as you opened the door—”

“That’s not what I mean,” Regulus protests, and for a second, James is convinced he’s going to stomp his foot. “It’s just—you’ve always been more affectionate, and I, I haven’t seen you in weeks, and because now I look like—like this, so different, then maybe—”

“Reggie, love, it has nothing to do with that, you hear me?” James cuts him off a bit more sharply than intended, one of his hands twitching with the need to reach out. “Nothing. You’re still the same to me, and the care and affection I feel for you—that’s never gonna change, okay?”

“Okay,” Regulus responds in a whisper, gaze so filled with adoration James nearly has to look away.

He sighs. “Fine, what do you want? A hug? You missed me that much, Reggie?”

“Yes, I did,” Regulus tells him without missing a beat, and James’ teasing smile falls slightly. He swallows. “And I was thinking about a kiss, actually.”

“Reg,” James says, the warning clear in his tone. 

“On the cheek!” Regulus rushes to clarify, blinking rapidly at him, all innocent and genuine. James knows better than to believe him, though. “You used to kiss me on the cheek constantly.”

“Yeah, when you were, like, fourteen—”

“Didn’t you say I’m always going to be a kid in your eyes? It shouldn’t make that much of a difference.”

“I guess, but—”

“Come on, Jamie,” Regulus insists, whiny and needy and so sweet, always so painfully sweet. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I know, Reggie, and I missed you too, I really did, but I’m just not sure if that’s a good idea—”

“Please,” Regulus murmurs, pressing even closer, to the point James can feel the warmth radiating from the boy’s body. Suddenly, he’s hyper aware of his state of undress, of the fact that he’s only wearing briefs under his school shirt.

James traps his lower lip between his teeth, and he pretends that he doesn’t notice the way Regulus follows the movement with his eyes, pupils dilating. 

He should refuse. James knows he should refuse. This madness has been going on for far too long, since Regulus was fifteen, and what James used to believe was sort of cute and natural, something that would pass on its own after a few months, has been growing to the point James feels like it’s getting out of his control. And now that Regulus seems to be feeling confident enough to do more than glance longingly at him and blush whenever James is close, he knows he ought to put a definite end to it. Nip the whole thing from the bud. Even if that means breaking Regulus’ heart. It’ll be better for him in the long run.

The problem is that James has never been good at denying Regulus anything. He’s always been his only weakness, and that hasn’t changed. James doesn’t think it ever will. 

“Okay,” James sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, but his mouth twitches helplessly when Regulus beams at him. “But only one,” he reminds the boy, raising a finger and pointing it at Regulus, who nods quickly. “And on the cheek. No games, Reggie, and I fucking mean that.”

“I swear,” Regulus assures him, nodding once more. He’s getting on his tiptoes a second later, and James exhales softly, staying put, allowing Regulus to go for it.

At first, Regulus does keep his word. He presses his lips softly to the high of James’ cheek, and automatically, not giving it much thought, James wraps an arm around Regulus’ waist, hand resting on the small of his back. He feels the boy’s smile against the side of his face.

Regulus lingers there for longer than necessary, but James indulges him, endlessly endeared. And besides, he did mean it when he said that he had missed Regulus. He adores the boy, and putting some distance between them wasn’t an easy choice. It’s been hard on James, too, even though he’s aware that he’s doing the right thing. Having Regulus in his arms once again feels good, and James wishes it could always be like this. Easy affection and sweet touches. 

James squeezes lightly and Regulus finally pulls away, a big smile taking all over his expression. However, he doesn’t go too far, and after looking at James for a couple of seconds, he dives in again, although this time, his mouth changes trajectory, the intentions behind the movement clear. 

He manages to avoid it at the last second, turning his head enough for Regulus’ lips to press against the corner of his mouth instead. James stiffens up, fingers spasming where they’re resting on Regulus’ back, on his waist. The scent of strawberries fills his senses, making James slightly dizzy, urging him to bury his nose in those lovely curls, to pull the boy even closer.

James makes sure to swat the idea away before it can take root, before his body can think of listening to it.  

“Regulus,” James hisses in warning. 

The boy giggles against his skin, but he obeys, stepping away, a mischievous grin curving his lips. James pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, and wills himself not to yell. 

He still has his arms wrapped around Regulus.

“Oops,” the boy comments, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “My bad.”

“You can’t do that shit, Reg,” James tells him sternly, and yet, his voice doesn’t come off as angry as it probably should. “We’ve talked about this. You know better. Fuck, this isn’t—”

“Okay, okay,” Regulus huffs out, still smiling, raising his hands in mock surrender. He can be such a menace. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, yeah? I promise.”

“I’m not sure if I can trust you after what you just pulled—”

“Don’t be a baby, Jamie, it was nothing—”

“You and I both know it’s not so simple—”

“Regulus!” a voice exclaims from somewhere behind the boy. Andromeda. “Who is it!?”

“It’s just James!” he answers in the same tone.

James lets go of Regulus as if burnt, and he also takes a few steps away from him, just in case, his heartbeat quickening to the point he can hear it rumbling inside his head. Regulus watches him with his head tilted to the side, blinking at him with feigned confusion. 

He squints his eyes at the boy, his jaw clenched, but before he gets the chance to open his mouth, Andromeda’s head is poking out from the end of the hall, smile pulling wide at his lips the moment her eyes settle on James. 

James forces himself to reciprocate the gesture, swallowing back down the bile that tries to climb up his throat. 

“What are you doing, standing there like an idiot?” she huffs out, visibly amused. “Come in! I bet you haven’t had any breakfast yet.”

“I had a coffee,” James argues, adjusting his belt and the holster attached to it. “And a fag.”

“Typical,” Andromeda scoffs. “Luckily for you, there’s more than enough food for you too. I had a feeling you were gonna be here today.”

“You know me too well.”

“That, and Alphard has been whining all morning about how he refuses to go to work.”

James lets out a resigned sigh. “Figures. Don’t worry, Andy, I’ll drag his stubborn ass to the station myself.”

“Good,” she chuckles, and then he’s focusing on Regulus, his expression shifting into something more serious. “And you, go get dressed! It’s nearly eight already, you’re gonna be late at this rate and you haven’t even finished your breakfast yet.”

“Fine,” Regulus groans, rolling his eyes so hard his head tilts back. He turns around, beginning to make his way towards his cousin, but not without throwing one last glance at James over his shoulders, giving him a cheeky smile. 

“Hurry up,” Andromeda urges him, swatting him with the cloth she’s holding when Regulus walks past her. “If we get another call about your tardiness you’re gonna be grounded for a bloody month.”

“But I already missed the bus,” Regulus complains. “I’m gonna have to walk again—”

“Fuck, Regulus, you’re a mess.” Andromeda shuts her eyes briefly, massaging her temples. “This is why you should’ve agreed to leave with Sirius, he could’ve given you a ride—”

“Over my dead body,” Regulus snarls, hands curling into fists.

Andromeda clicks her tongue, and James arches an eyebrow at her, the question clear in the gesture. 

“They’re currently not speaking to each other,” she explains, deadpan. “Again.” 

James isn’t quick enough to suppress a snort, and he has to purse his lips to keep more from coming when Regulus turns to scowl at him. 

“What happened this time?” he asks her, despite all his attention being on Regulus.

“None of your fucking business,” Regulus snaps as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Sirius is just being a prick, is all.”

“Language,” Andromeda scolds him, but it’s weak, half-hearted. She focuses on James a second later, and she seems to light up a little.  “Oi, James, could you drive Reg and Tonks to school? Please?”

Regulus visibly perks up at this, and he gives James a pleading look, the puppy-like kind, the one James has always been unable to resist. 

“Uh,” he starts, running a hand through his hair, avoiding both Regulus and Andromeda’s gazes. “I don’t know, Andy, it’s the first day on the new job, and me and the guys can’t afford to—”

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Andromeda insists. “Reg won’t make it in time otherwise, and he can’t afford to be late again. And Ted can’t drop Tonks off at school today, he had to leave early for a meeting—”

“Fine, fine, okay!” James interrupts her, cursing himself internally. “But we need to leave in ten, yeah?”

“Thank you!” Andromeda says, rushing down the hall to hug James so tightly he swears his ribs crack. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Honestly, what would we do without you?”

“I ask myself that question every morning,” James huffs with a shake of his head. He raises his head, gazing at Regulus over Andromeda’s shoulder. “C’mon, Reggie, go get ready. And bring Tonks too.”

Regulus nods, and the grin he offers James rivals the goddamn sun. “You’re the best, Jamie.” 

He disappears around the corner right after, and James feels a pull at his stomach he attributes to its emptiness. Perhaps Andromeda, with all her nagging, is right. She does tend to be, after all. 

“I owe you one,” she sighs, pulling away. She squeezes James’ arms gently, smiling up at him, and then she’s grabbing him by the wrist and pulling, dragging him with her down the hall. “Now let’s get you something to eat, you have time for some toast before you leave.”

“Don’t be silly, you don’t owe me shit. You never do. I’m happy to help, Andy. You’re family. All of you are,” James tells her honestly, barely repressing a wince. “I won’t say no to some toast, though,” he adds a bit cheekily. 

Andromeda throws her head back and laughs, and all of James’ worries vanish with the sound. 

Or at least, the ones that don’t concern a certain black-haired boy do.

[arkieve]

blood | @jegulus-microfic | wc: 991 (tw: blood... shocker!)

Regulus likes order. He likes things organized. He also likes cleanliness. In fact, he loves cleaning—a certified neat freak, if you will. 

There is a lot that could be said about Regulus Black, but the state of his home is never up for debate. 

But right now, Regulus is doing everything wrong. He knows it, but the rapid beating of his heart is making him dizzy – or maybe it’s the fumes from the cleaning products. He’s usually careful with that; knows which works best and what not to mix, but his mind is jumbled as he wipes at the floor. It’s not doing much, if anything, he’s just spreading the mess further, and his fingers are starting to dry and stick together.

He wrings out the rag over the stockpot he grabbed in his moment of dazed panic, and makes a point not to stare at its contents, and resumes wiping. It’s like the more he wipes, the worse it gets. His eyes drift to the source of the mess, stiff and still oozing, and sighs.

Wipewipewipe, dunk into the stockpot, wring out, and start again. He repeats the process enough to settle his mind, blocking out the outside noise and finding comfort in the repetitiveness. He’s so focused that he doesn’t hear the front door open or James calling out his name. He doesn’t hear James’ footsteps as he approaches, but he does hear the thud of grocery bags hitting the floor and the roll of an apple that comes to a stop in the pool he’s been trying, and failing, to diminish.

Regulus looks up at James, who stands frozen, pale-faced, as his brain tries to process what he’s walked into. Yes, Regulus is known for his orderliness and the spotless condition of his home, but even he thinks James’ reaction is a bit over the top. It’s just a mess, and as it has been well-established, Regulus is good at cleaning those.

An itching sense of irritation creeps up on Regulus, followed by a flicker of humiliation at being caught in this state. 

What was James even doing here?

Contents continue to slowly spill out of the grocery bags where they lay tipped over on the floor, and it hits him. 

Right, date night. 

“I’ll bring the groceries and make us pasta, and we’ll have a quiet night in. How does that sound?”

Regulus looks down at the mess—the stockpan he’d grabbed in a hurry, filled with water, and been wringing crimson into. Unhygienic, to say the least.

Regulus finally finds his voice. 

“James?”

James looks twice – first at Regulus, then at the body a few feet away from him.

It’s not every day you find a body with a steak knife sticking out of it in your boyfriend’s living room. But it’s no big deal, right? Just a mess, and Regulus is good at cleaning messes—though, he’s admittedly struggling with this one. 

He’s shaking, and his heart is pounding erratically, making him feel nauseous and light-headed. He can fix this. He can fix this. It’s just a mess. The sticky feeling in his hands, the crimson pool slowly permeating the hardwood, the body growing stiff and cold—it’s all just a mess. And messes can be fixed. They can. They have to be.

James moves wordlessly down the hall and out of Regulus’ sight, and it slowly dawns on him that he might not be able to fix that. Blood can be cleaned, and a body can be disposed of. But a shattered relationship is harder to glue back together. Impossibly so, if Regulus ends up behind bars.

He drops the blood-soaked rag and lets the panic fully set in. Looking at the body, he locks eyes with the distant, lifeless stare of his landlord. That man had been a constant nuisance, always refusing to leave Regulus alone. He’d used a spare key to let himself in, right before the argument that ended with a steak knife buried in his chest.

This time, he hears the footsteps, each one amplifying the rapid beating of his heart. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

James stops next to Regulus, and then Regulus hears the sound of jugs and other materials being placed on the floor. The crinkle of trash bags draws his attention, and he braves a look to find James has changed into tattered clothes—the ones Regulus had smuggled out of the bottom of James’ drawers and found comfort in wearing when he slept alone.

James crouches down beside Regulus and gently takes his face in his hands. What a sight he must be—blood splattered across his face, wild eyes and pupils dilated. James strokes Regulus’ cheek with his thumb and asks, “Who else knows about this?”

Regulus swallows. “No one. It just happened.”

James seems to think for a while, then nods. He points at the rag beside Regulus. “That’s not going to do much for the blood,” he says, giving him a playful look that suggests Regulus should know better.

He lets go of Regulus, snaps on a pair of yellow rubber gloves, and gets to work. Regulus struggles to process what’s happening and sits there, watching James cut up the trash bags and reach for the duct tape. 

“Not how I imagined the night going,” James says, biting off a piece of tape, “But if we finish this quickly, we can still do late dinner.”

Regulus sits speechless.

“Though,” James says, nodding at the apple sitting in the pool of blood, “I think apple tart is off the table.”

He smiles easily at Regulus, that familiar sparkle in his eyes. 

The dried blood is tightening the skin on Regulus’ face, and the sickly stickiness on his fingers hasn't eased. The air is thick with the metallic smell of copper. Regulus has made a certifiable mess, but what does that matter when James is dutifully helping him clean it up. 

“Late dinner sounds lovely.”

[hedgehog-troops]

hear me out...

first generation child of immigrant parents james potter. like his parents are never home, when he was a kid they lived in a small house and hed often be alone as his parents would pick up double triple shifts. then when hes like 7/8 his parents start a conpany which starts doing pretty well so they move into a bigger house and they get james a house elf to keep him company.

james who is spoiled ROTTEN with anything but time. he has a big ass tv in his home (his parents sent someone who figured out the kiggle to wizard bit) and watfher cartoons and stuff.

james whos parents are only ever home on holidays or on weekeneds amd even then when james talks for quite a bit they tell him to stop because theyre tired and their heads hurt.

effie who cooks homemade meals every night but james never has anyon3 to share them with.

as jkes grows older his parents are like well hes old enough now, so they stop clearing up schedules for his birthday and other important events.

james who watched shows on tv where everyone would get these big partoes and always wanted that so when he goes to hogwarts he makes sure his friends get it.

his friends automatically assume that his parents must've done that for him seeing as he does so for others. everyone just assumes that james has the most wonderful and amazing parents in the world so he just nods along.

he always gets something quidditch related, and its always his dads favorite team because as a kid who so wanted to be liked by his dad, hed agreed with his dad, claimed his dads favorite player and team as his own.

it doesn't matter that he liked an entirely different team.

his friends envy the presents james gets through the owls on his birthday, the handwritten letter, but james just shoves it in his bag because he knows whats inside, he knows who wrote it, he knows the only thing they've changed in it is the age hes turning.

its only when sirius and reg run away to his house and find the house empty bar for james and the house elf that they question. and james simply says, "they're out"

they observe the relationship he has with the house elf, how nicely he treats her and she treats him.

and then they see how when his parents finally come on Christmas eve, james is rushing to change out of his funky clothes into a normal tshirt and trouser, how he takes off his jewelry except for the signet ring and rushes to clear up what may seem like a normal mess in the house.

how rhe doesbt smile with the prideful show of his teeth that he usually does, how reserved he gets when talking to sirius and regulus even, how he keeps out of the kitchen. how when he makes tea for his parents the first rhing they say is "add less elaichi next time, but thankyou."

and then when gifts are exchanged, regulus and sirius even get gifts addressed from monty and effie and they're grateful for the generic gifts. but what surprises them is that in james' gift, where he must've asked for tickets to go watch quidditch, theres tickets of a team he rarely mentions.

his dad looks at him, with pride, and says that its his favorite team. regulus is about ready to pipe up and mention that its not but a glance from james makes him quiet.

james asks his dad if hell go with james and he just says I'll see ehich james has learned is his way of saying no.

what horrifies them the most is james coming out to his parents and their reactions.