Jean in every other universe is marked with the number ‘4’, a very unlucky number in Japan and a homophone for “death” and in every other universe Jean dies.
However, in this one Jean takes Nathaniel’s number, ‘3’, a lucky number symbolising stability and abundance. And he lives.
Neil would be marked with ‘4’, marked for death, but Lola burned it off. And he survives.
does anyone have a good marauders horror fic recomendation?? im in the mood for something really creep, like, i wont sleep at night kinda creep. if is regulus centered even better, I just love him so much
hi ronnie 😁 do you perhaps have any thoughts about knight remus and prince sirius
NINI I SCREAMEEEEED WHEN I SAW THIS, i wanted to write ab knight remus/prince sirius FOR AGES, THANK U ILY
first of all, let’s establish that remus kneels not in submission but in devotion, forehead pressed to sirius’s hand after every battle, murmuring ancient vows that bind his soul tighter than any oath of knighthood ever could
sirius traces the scars on remus’s bare shoulders by candlelight in the hidden alcove behind the throne room tapestries, lips brushing each old wound as if his kisses could rewrite the pain into something holy
the prince’s laughter echoes through the training grounds when remus disarms him during secret sword lessons, bodies pressed close in the dirt, hearts racing faster than any duel could explain
remus’s calloused hands tremble every single time when he adjusts sirius’s silver circlet (little circular band, typically worn as an ornament around the head)
from his post remus watches sirius stroll through the inner courtyard with his younger brother, arms slung casually around each other, their easy camaraderie glowing under the sun, and remus grips his sword harder, wishing he could walk beside him without armor between them
during tournaments remus fights with ferocious grace, but the moment sirius stands to cheer from the royal box, the knight’s strikes grow lighter, his helm turning instantly toward him, every victorious glance directed only at the prince. sirius stands there radiant and beautiful, smiling brightly as he leans forward and throws a single flower at remus’s feet, the crowd roaring while their eyes stay locked in plain, aching devotion
sirius’s hand lingers too long on remus’s shoulder when the knight kneels to report, thumb brushing the wolf emblem over his heart
the way remus’s voice drops soft and reverent when addressing the prince in private moments, calling him “my liege”
maids giggle behind tapestries because sirius always finds excuses to summon his knight at odd hours, and remus arrives breathless, their silhouettes through the chamber door too close, too gentle
thats it for now, they r so so so so adorable and full of yearning, ugh, hope u like it my love 🫶🫶
❝we had our downs but we had way more ups,let's make love❞
pairing — firelord zuko! x fem!earthbender!reader
synopsis — who was surprised when you and zuko were the first in the gaang to get pregnant?
content — fem!reader, mature content (17+), suggestive themes, pregnancy, mention of sex, no actual plot really, indulgent fic, takes place seven years before the legend of aang (which takes placed 12 years after ATLA) so Zuko is 22 and Reader is 21, no use of yn, not proofread
author's note — I didn't watch the leaks yet just clips and if I do I'll still be watching the movie to support the animators
The Princess of the Fire Nation, though she often felt that, as the wife of the Fire Lord, she deserved a far grander title, sat before her vanity, studying her reflection. One by one, she had dismissed her maids, choosing instead to prepare for bed on her own. In truth, the new trending fragrance they all insisted on wearing had begun to make her nauseous.
Though, lately, everything seemed to make her sick.
“Aang sent a letter.”
She hadn’t even heard him enter.
Slowly, she turned to face her husband, a faint crease forming between her brows. “My love, you spend all day in council, and the first thing you do after not seeing me for hours is talk more about the council?” she teased lightly, though there was a hint of tiredness beneath it. She turned back to the mirror, picking up her hairbrush and dragging it gently through her hair.
“Well, love, this isn’t about the council. Technically,” he replied, stepping further into the room. “It’s about Aang. He needs our help.”
“Our help?” She turned again, confusion softening her features as she rose from the vanity. Her green satin nightgown draped elegantly over her figure, the gold stitching catching the candlelight with every movement. The most prominent change, however, was the gentle, undeniable curve of her stomach.
“You knocked me up, dummy,” she teased, a small smile tugging at her lips as she approached him. Her hands slid to his shoulders, then to the ties of his robes, beginning to loosen them with practiced ease. “Or did you forget already?”
He laughed softly, the sound low and fond, allowing her to help him out of his robes as the fabric slipped from his shoulders.
“How could I forget?” he murmured, turning toward her.
His gaze drifted over her slowly, appreciatively, before settling on the curve of her stomach. His hands followed, almost instinctively, coming to rest there, warm, steady, protective. His thumbs brushed gentle circles over the satin, as if he could feel something deeper beneath it.
“When you carry the future of the Fire Nation inside you?” he said quietly, his voice softening. “A little piece of me…”
His eyes lifted to meet hers, something tender and unguarded flickering there.
“And all of you.”
She hummed softly, rising onto her tiptoes as her arms slipped around his neck, drawing him down to her. Her lips met his in a gentle, fleeting kiss, soft, familiar, almost teasing.
But when she tried to pull away, he didn’t let her.
His hand tightened at her waist, the other still resting protectively against her stomach as he followed her retreat, capturing her lips again before the distance could grow. Even as her heels lowered back to the floor, he bent with her, closing the space she had tried to create.
This time the kiss deepened, slower, warmer, lingering in a way that stole the breath from her lungs. It wasn’t hurried, but it wasn’t soft either; it carried weight, intention, something unspoken between them.
His thumb brushed lightly against her side as he tilted his head, pressing closer, as if memorizing her. The world beyond them seemed to fade, the council, the letter, everything, leaving only the quiet crackle of candlelight and the steady rhythm of shared breath.
When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t far, just enough for their foreheads to rest together, his lips still ghosting over hers, reluctant to let her go.
“I can’t get you pregnant again, can I? Double pregnant,” he teased, a grin tugging at his lips.
She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head at him. “Oh, you’ve certainly tried,” she replied, her voice laced with amusement. Her hand lingered briefly against his chest before she stepped back, just enough to create space between them. “But don’t try again, I need this thing out of me first.” "I don't know if I love you referring to our child as a thing."
She separated from him fully then, turning slightly as if to busy herself, though she didn’t miss the way his shoulders subtly slumped at the loss of contact. The warmth between them lingered in the space she left behind, unspoken but felt.
Her fingers adjusted the sleeve of her gown absentmindedly, her expression softening for just a moment before she glanced back at him over her shoulder. There was still a hint of her earlier smile there, though now tempered with curiosity.
“Now,” she said, more gently this time, “tell me what Aang wants.”
"That can wait for the morning." He mumbled, his eyes never leaving her lips as he pulled her back into another kiss.
“A village?”
Zuko sighed, steadying Appa’s harness as he helped his wife climb aboard. “Why would he possibly want us to go to a random village?” And why would he say pack a coat? We're going to a mountain aren't we?" she huffed, gripping the edge before finally pulling herself over with a bit more effort than she liked. "I hate mountains."
He lingered below for a moment, looking up at her, concern etched into his features. “Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to go? You can stay—I’ll be back in a couple days.”
She leaned over the edge slightly, brows knitting. “Aang needs the second-best earthbender with him, Zuko. I’m not disabled—”
She winced mid-sentence, her hand instinctively going to her stomach before she turned toward Toph. “Sorry.”
Toph shrugged easily. “Hey, I’m just glad you finally admitted I’m the better earthbender.”
“I give you your flowers when they’re due,” she shot back with a small smile.
Toph grinned, but it slowly faltered, her head tilting slightly as if listening to something no one else could hear. "Your heart must be beating really fast." "Is it?" The princess quirked her head confused. "Why else am I hearing two heartbeats coming from you?”
Katara gasped, her hands flying together in delight. “Oh my gosh, you’re pregnant! I thought your coat was just oddly bulky but you're pregnant! Oh my Gosh!" she exclaimed, immediately rushing forward to wrap the Fire Princess in a tight hug. “I thought they were just rumors, because surely you and Zuko would’ve told us!”
The princess blinked, caught off guard, before her gaze slid over to her husband, who was just now hauling himself rather ungracefully into Appa’s saddle.
“Zuko,” she said slowly, one brow arching, “I thought you told them.”
Zuko froze mid-step, staring back at her blankly. “I thought you did.”
There was a beat.
“Oh my gosh.”
“I mean, it was only a matter of time,” Katara chimed in, smiling knowingly. “You two have never exactly been subtle. And Zuko practically insisted on marrying you the moment he could.”
Toph snorted, crossing her arms. “Yeah, honestly? I’m surprised it took this long. Thought for sure you’d have a whole lineup of heirs by now if Zuko could keep his hands to himself for more than, what? two minutes?”
Zuko nearly choked, his face flushing a deep, unmistakable red. “That’s— I—” He cleared his throat, straightening awkwardly as he avoided everyone’s eyes. “That’s not— we’re not—”
The princess, however, looked entirely unbothered.
In fact, she looked amused.
“Well,” she said lightly, smoothing a hand over her stomach as she glanced at him, “he does have a bit of a… lack of restraint.”
Zuko snapped his head toward her. “You’re not helping.”
Katara laughed, covering her mouth. “I mean, you can’t blame them. You’ve both been—” she hesitated, searching for a polite word before giving up, “—like that since the beginning.”
Toph grinned wider. “Please. ‘Like that’ is putting it nicely.”
“Toph,” Katara warned, though she was still smiling.
“What?” Toph shrugged. “I’m just saying—half the time, I didn’t even need my feet to know when they were in the same room. The tension alone was loud enough.”
The princess let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You’re all incredibly annoying.”
Zuko groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Can we please focus on the actual reason we’re here?”
“Oh, no, no,” Toph continued, clearly enjoying herself. “You deserve this. All those nights you two kept everyone awake—”
“Okay, that’s enough,” the princess cut in quickly, though a smile tugged at her lips. She glanced at Zuko, amused. “He can’t get any redder. He’s about to turn into a tomato.”
Zuko let out a quiet, embarrassed huff, but didn’t argue, instead shifting closer and settling against her side, seeking some sense of refuge.
She softened slightly at that, her expression gentler as she let him.
“Let’s just go get Sokka,” he muttered, still avoiding everyone’s gaze.
The princess had shrugged off her coat minutes into the trip. They weren’t even close to Aang yet, and the extra weight had her uncomfortably warm, a light sheen of sweat clinging to her skin. The shifting air currents around Appa did little to help.
Katara, however, had not left her alone once.
The questions came one after another, gentle but relentless, curiosity shining in her eyes.
“How far along are you?”
“Five months,” she answered, offering a tired but polite smile.
“What’s the gender?”
“No clue.”
“Any baby names lined up?”
“We’re trying for something that blends earth and fire,” she said, glancing briefly at Zuko, “but nothing’s stuck yet.”
Katara brightened. “That’s so sweet—”
“Are you going to have more?”
The princess didn’t even hesitate. “Have you met my husband?”
Katara blinked, then laughed, covering her mouth.
Zuko, meanwhile, coughed into his fist, his ears burning all over again.
Through it all, his hand never left her, resting protectively over her stomach, thumb brushing slow, absent circles as if grounding himself in her presence. Every so often, his grip would tighten slightly whenever Appa shifted, like he could somehow steady both her and the child at once.
“Careful,” he murmured under his breath at one point, guiding her subtly as the saddle dipped.
“I’m fine,” she replied, though she didn’t pull away from him.
By the time the icy waters and familiar structures of the Southern Water Tribe came into view, the air had grown colder, sharper against their skin. Snow dusted the ground below, and the distant figures of Water Tribe members began to gather, pointing up at Appa’s descending form.
They didn’t have to search long.
Sokka was already striding across the snow toward them, boots crunching loudly with each step, his grin widening the second he took them in.
“Well, well,” he called, arms spreading like he was welcoming honored guests. “Look who finally decided to show up. Took you two long enough.”
His gaze flicked between them, lingering, calculating, before it dropped.
Then paused.
“…Whoa.”
Zuko stiffened immediately. “Don’t.”
But Sokka was already circling them, slow and deliberate, like he was inspecting something fascinating. “No way. No way. You’re serious?”
The princess raised a brow, unimpressed. “Very.”
Sokka let out a low whistle, dragging a hand down his face before pointing straight at Zuko. “I mean, I knew you two had issues with personal space, but I didn’t think you’d go and make it this… I don't even know the word for it. You two are freaks."
Zuko groaned, already regretting coming. “Sokka.”
“What?” Sokka shrugged, smirk growing. “You expect me to ignore this? This isn't even groundbreaking it's just expected from you both knowing you. This is, this is what happens when you two get even five minutes alone, isn’t it?”
Toph let out a quiet snort.
Sokka leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it worse. “Actually, scratch that. Five minutes is probably generous.”
Zuko made a strangled noise. “Okay.”
Katara slapped a hand over her face. “Sokka—”
“No, no, I’m just connecting the dots,” he continued, clearly enjoying himself. “All those times you disappeared during meetings, all those ‘private discussions’ yeah, makes a lot more sense now.”
The princess tilted her head, completely unbothered. “You’re being very bold for someone standing this close to me.”
Sokka grinned. “I’m just impressed, honestly. You two had so much tension it was practically a natural disaster, and now—” he gestured vaguely toward her stomach, “—this is the aftermath. Surprised it took you this long."
Toph laughed outright at that.
Zuko looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
Sokka wasn’t done.
“I mean seriously,” he added, folding his arms, “if this is what happens when the Fire Lord gets a little too… distracted, I’m shocked there’s not a second one already on the way.”
Zuko choked. “That’s enough.”
“Hey, I’m congratulating you!” Sokka shot back. “Just saying, next time, maybe let people know before you two go off and—”
“Sokka.”
“—expand the royal family.”
Katara shoved him lightly. “You’re unbelievable.”
“But not wrong,” he corrected smoothly.
The princess let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Unfortunately, he’s not entirely wrong.”
Zuko turned to her, betrayed. “You’re encouraging him.”
“We've been married for eleven months and I've been pregnant for five of them, you lack restraint Zuko” she stated bluntly, though her smile gave her away. He shook his head leaning close so only he could hear her. "Who suggested riding me in the throne ro-" "Okay hush now."
Sokka clapped his hands together once, satisfied. “Great. Now that we’ve established the Fire Lord has absolutely no self-control—”
“Sokka.”
“—can someone please tell me why Aang is dragging us to some random village?"
The teasing was warranted, deserved, even.
The Fire Nation had taken your father, your brother. Zuko’s redemption didn’t erase that. Not to you. He had hunted you, cornered you, forced you into survival more times than you could count. While the others learned to trust him, to laugh with him, to move on… you hadn’t. Not so easily.
So yeah, there had been tension.
A lot of it.
It just… hadn’t been resolved in a way anyone else approved of.
His lips brushed slowly along the inside of her thigh, unhurried, deliberate, testing, teasing. The touch alone was enough to pull a quiet, unwilling sound from her, her breath catching despite herself.
“Just do it already,” she muttered, more breath than voice, her fingers tightening against the sheets.
Zuko clicked his tongue softly, unfazed. Another kiss followed, closer this time, but still not quite where she wanted, where she needed.
“Not until you say please.”
Her head tipped back in frustration. “Why would I have to say please?” she shot back weakly. “You said you were atoning for everything your nation did. Consider this part of your apology.”
A quiet huff of amusement left him, warm against her skin. “I’ve been atoning for two months now,” he murmured, his voice low, almost thoughtful.
Another slow press of his lips, lingering.
“And yet,” he added, “every morning I wake up and you’ve already taken my portion of breakfast because, apparently, ‘murderers don’t deserve to eat.’”
She exhaled sharply, somewhere between a scoff and something softer. “Well, when the Fire Nation killed my family, I couldn’t afford breakfast—”
“I know.” His tone shifted immediately, the teasing giving way to something heavier, sincere. His hand stilled, grounding. “I know. And I’m sorry.”
There was a pause, the air between them tightening, thick with everything unsaid.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it,” he continued quietly. “For what I did… for what I stood for.”
His placed a long kiss to her core, a soft moan (against her will) escaped her lips.
“Let me try,” he said, voice gentler now. “Even if it’s not enough.”
“I’m glad you all could make it, this village needs our help with—” Aang began, pulling back from Katara mid-sentence.
His eyes flicked across the group.
Paused.
Then widened.
“…Are—did—?”
He leaned toward Katara, lowering his voice into what he clearly thought was a whisper. “Am I allowed to ask people if they’ve gained weight?”
Katara’s eyes widened. “No, Aang. We’ve been over this.”
Aang nodded quickly. “Right, right. No asking.”
“…They’re pregnant,” she added quietly.
Aang blinked.
Then looked back at them.
Then back at Katara.
“…Zuko’s pregnant too?”
Toph snorted.
Sokka immediately burst out laughing. “Yeah, yeah, Fire Lord had a lot to do with it actually.”
Zuko’s face flushed instantly. “That’s not—”
“I’m pregnant, Aang,” the princess cut in, voice flat.
“Oh!” Aang straightened immediately, relief flooding his face. “Oh, that makes way more sense.”
There was a beat.
“…Congratulations!” he added, a little too late but entirely sincere.
Then his expression shifted, concern creeping in.
“Wait, are you sure you should be here?” he asked, glancing between her and Zuko. “I mean, with everything going on… I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Zuko immediately nodded. “Exactly.”
She sighed.
“I’m pregnant, not made of glass,” she said, crossing her arms lightly. “I can still help.”
Toph smirked. “Told you.”
Katara smiled gently. “We’ll keep an eye on you. Just in case.”
Sokka grinned. “Yeah, someone has to make sure Zuko doesn’t give himself an aneurysm trying to watch after the princess.”
Zuko shot him a glare.
Aang hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. I trust you. Just… be careful, alright?”
She gave a small, confident nod.
“Always.”
Aang clapped his hands together once, refocusing. “Right, so. The village has been dealing with a spirit. It’s been acting aggressively, and I think it’s tied to something in the mountain.”
The princess exhaled slowly. “…So you did drag us out here for a mountain.”
Aang winced. “Technically… yes.”
Zuko sighed. “Of course.”
Toph cracked her knuckles. “Good. I was getting bored.”
Sokka looked between them, grin already returning. “Alright, angry spirit, pregnant Fire-Earth Princess, and Zuko on edge. This should go great.”
She leaned slightly into Zuko’s side, her hand brushing his.
“Next time,” she murmured, “we ignore the letter and go to Ember Island."
He huffed softly. “…Agreed.”
love speaks! rushed and indulgent sorry i wish this was better but if i draft it it'll never get done. divider by @/cafekitsune
People may think that the Black brothers were bad drivers, but Sirius was actually a very good driver. Followed the speed limit, used the indicator and everything.
Why? He had Remus, Peter, and Lily teaching him after he ran away (Not James. Don't trust that man behind the wheel, he gets distracted too easily)
Sirius sat on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. His bandages still itched, tight and bulky around his wrists, but he left them alone. Across the room, Barty lay on his stomach, his feet kicking lazily in the air as he scribbled furiously in his crayon filled notebook.
“Hey,” Sirius said softly.
Barty didn’t look up. “Hey, hey, hey.”
Sirius hesitated. “They gave me more labels today."
That got Barty’s attention. He turned his head, expression unreadable. “Labels? Like soup cans? Or the kind they stick on your back when you’re not looking?”
“The second one, probably.”
Barty rolled onto his side. “What flavor are you, then?”
“Bipolar. Borderline.” Sirius shrugged. “I’m apparently a human mood swing with abandonment issues.”
Barty stared at him. “That’s a very dramatic soup. Bit spicy.”
Sirius snorted in spite of himself.
“They said I’m emotionally unstable. That I feel too much. That I panic when people leave me. And it’s all true. But it still hurts, hearing it out loud.”
Barty slowly sat up, letting his journal fall shut. “They said I have schizophrenia. Did you know that? Voices, visions, wild things. They think I’m bonkers. I am, probably. But they’re not wrong.”
He leaned forward, oddly serious. “But you? You’re just… a cracked glass. Still sharp. Still beautiful. Just fragile in places.”
Sirius blinked at him. “That’s weirdly poetic.”
“I’m an artist,” Barty said simply, picking up his red crayon again. “All of us are just shattered things trying not to cut each other.”
Sirius lay back on his pillow, exhausted. “I hate how much that makes sense.”
Barty began to draw again, humming softly under his breath. After a while, he said, “I’m glad you’re still here.”
“Me too,” Sirius whispered.
And for a moment, the silence between them was almost comforting.
It was late, the ward quiet except for the irritating buzz of the hallway lights and the occasional soft shuffle of staff rounds. Sirius lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, sleep eluding him again. Barty sat cross-legged on the floor, drawing against the side of his own bed with a crayon, the paper pressed to his knee.
“Your boyfriend came again today,” Barty said quietly.
Sirius turned his head, his voice rough. “Yeah. He did.”
Barty didn’t look up. “He always comes. Brings you coffee. Talks to the nurses. Smiles like it’s not hurting him inside.”
Sirius blinked slowly, throat tight.
“You’re lucky,” Barty said. His voice cracked a little, soft but trembling at the edges. “My boyfriend used to visit. He brought me sweets once. He said he’d wait.”
Sirius didn’t say anything.
“But he doesn’t come anymore.” Barty’s hand stopped moving, the crayon stilled mid-line. “He’s dead. They told me he died.”
There was a long pause.
“I still see him, though,” Barty murmured. “Sometimes he’s in the corner. Sometimes outside the window. I draw him, so I don’t forget.”
He lifted the journal and turned it toward Sirius, revealing a sketch... delicate, almost angelic, of a boy with wild eyes and a soft smile. “His name was Evan.”
Sirius’ heart sank.
“I don’t think he knows he’s dead,” Barty whispered. “I don’t think I do, either. Not really.”
Sirius pushed himself upright and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Quietly, he walked across the room and sat beside Barty. He didn’t touch him, didn’t say anything. Just sat with him.
Barty turned another page and began to draw again. This time, he used blue.
“I think Evan would’ve liked your boyfriend,” he said. “Remus seems gentle.”
Sirius closed his eyes. “He is.”
And they sat together in the soft light, one broken soul beside another, while Barty drew the people they missed most in colors they could still see.
They sat there in silence for a little while longer, the soft scratching of Barty’s crayon filling the room.
Sirius glanced at the journal, then at Barty’s profile, pale in the dim light, eyes distant but focused on the page.
He spoke gently. “Do you know how Evan died?”
Barty paused. The crayon stilled in his hand. His head tilted slightly, like he was listening to something Sirius couldn’t hear. He was quiet for so long that Sirius almost didn’t expect an answer.
Finally, Barty said, “No.” His voice was soft. “I don’t.”
He kept staring at the page. “I think I used to. I think it was loud. Or maybe quiet. Maybe it was both. Maybe I watched. Maybe I didn’t.”
He pressed the crayon to the page again, drawing harder now. “Every time I try to remember, it’s like… someone’s holding a hand over my eyes.”
Sirius’ throat ached.
“I wish I knew,” Barty added, barely audible. “But I think… I think if I did, I might break.”
Sirius reached out, just barely brushing Barty’s shoulder.
“You’re not broken,” he said.
Barty let out a dry, breathless laugh. “Oh, Sirius. I’m so broken. But that’s okay. Evan was too. We were beautiful that way.”
And then he kept drawing, as if the memory might someday come back in red and blue and black lines.
The overhead lights dimmed with a low hum, then cut out completely, leaving the room bathed in the soft, blue glow of the hallway’s night lighting.
Barty didn’t move from the floor. He just kept scratching faintly at the paper, the sound barely audible, like the flutter of moth wings. Eventually, the crayon stilled. He whispered something as he stood, maybe a name, maybe nothing, and rolled onto his bed.
Sirius lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. It was too dark to see much, but he could still make out the faint outlines, the vent overhead, the seam of the ceiling tiles, the shadow of the window frame across the wall.
Since it’s your birthday, starkiller birthday headcanons please
oh boy oh boy
thank you for singing me happy birthday!!
anyway here are my starkiller hcs hehe :
(art by serugirando)
★ only regulus has ever seen barty cry, and it shows how much barty loves him because he also let him hold him and comfort him
★ barty is actually surprisingly clingy. like at first he pretends that he just wants sex but after a year or so he gives up and just admits defeat. he wants cuddles okay, "gimme please," and he'll hold onto regulus as if he's gonna disappear on him any minute (which uh, he did since regulus died super young without teliing anyone hehee)
★ barty loves biting him. his thighs, his throat, his cleavage, around his nipples. he gets cuteness aggression, he feels too much love, he's a possessive fucker. he also likes to lick the bites after he's done them
★ they both love to hold hands actually. and like i've said before barty has regulus play with his fingers so he can regulate his emotions
★ mhmm yeah them using the excuse that their parents know each other and it's good to have a pureblood boy over, and then they're in regulus' room making out with regulus having to stop barty from going further and deflowering the youngest black (jk barty deflowered him a long time ago but well maman doesn’t know that)
★ barty forcibly takes regulus' wand when regulus is going through one of those periods where he might self harm with the lacero. sometimes it's not enough for barty to hold him though, he cries and begs and says that he needs it, and in the end barty is like "fuck, okay here's what we're gonna do, baby. i'm gonna cut you, but i decide the deoth and you’re only gonna get as many cuts as i say. you hear me?" and regulus nods, teary-eyed, and then it’s the intimacy of cutting your boyfriend up and hushing him gently as he cries out, knowing that he'd do more harm himself. barty is so gentle and caring when he cleans the blood up and takes care of the wounds
★ there's a tension to regulus' shoulders whenever barty isn’t in the room. he's the only person he feels safe with (also sirius... but well they don’t talk much anymore)
★ barty almost teared up the first time regulus gave him a forehead kiss. his mind screeched to a halt when regulus also cradled his cheeks and told him that he loved him
★ barty has this game of "how far can i go in public before regulus tells me off and hisses at me about decorum?" where he’s like cupping regulus' throat and going as close to sexual pda as he can. he'll hold eye contact with the idiot who stared for too long at regulus, as regulus is trying not to moan and whine in public
★ they once fucked in the forbidden section of the library at midnight
★ it took barty a year before he could say i love you, but it didn’t matter because it was clear in his every action either way
★ regulus gets mad when someone calls barty crazy or a freak (which he is, but yk) he will jinx and hex people
★ barty is fucked in the head and has commitment issues sooo they broke up during 4th year (the year they also got together) and regulus had a secret affair with james because james was depressed about his friend group that had fallen apart after the prank (barty laughed hysterically when he heard who he had been switched for, tried not to tear up)
★ since the relationship with james was a secret they weren’t seen in public. still, once after curfew barty saw them and the day after he cornered regulus, nuzzled his throat and tried to convince him that james would never be able to love and fuck him the way he needed (true) and regulus almost let barty give him a hickey before pushing him away. the crashout barty had after regulus left him standing there was not pretty.
★ james eventually caught on that they had been a thing and he also thought that barty was bad for regulus, so he kinda walked up to barty and tried to talk to him. barty's laughter was crazyy as he listened to him yap. then all of a sudden he was dead serious as he said "you've had him at his best, but i have loved him at his worst and i will continue to love him no matter what happens, unlike you" he was proven right when they broke up as regulus took the dark mark
★ the reunion sex was insane (regulus couldn’t walk afterwards) and also barty got his shit together because fuck no he wasn’t gonna lose regulus again to some other imbecile
