seen from Poland
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seen from Türkiye
seen from Canada
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
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seen from Maldives
seen from Russia
seen from China
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seen from United States
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seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Maldives
Regulus: I can’t believe all these people are wearing black. Black is my thing. They’re all posers.
James: Baby, for the third time: We are at a FUNERAL
James and Regulus watching the Barbie movie in the cinema, then ‘What was I made for?’ starts playing. As soon as the lyric “I’m sad again, don’t tell my boyfriend, it’s not what he’s made for” sounds through the movie theatre, James leans over and whispers in Regulus’ ear,
“It’s exactly what I’m made for.”
Every time James calls Regulus "mi vida" or "mi amor" an angel grows their wings.
James and Regulus have been in a secret relationship for almost 3 years now, and after 2 and a half years they eloped. No one knows that they are together, live together, have a cat together and the fact that they are married.
Now, six months after their marriage, they all go to a trip to Greece. 'All' means all of them, and by that time Jegulus decide that they are finally going to tell their friends.
So, they slowly drop hints. They start to touch more, begin to do things for each other much like they do at home, until the point their friends are so fucking confused on what's happening with them and they just think that they are in some weird situationship or are fuck buddies now, because none of them have ever thought of the two of them together in a relationship like that.
The whole reveal is super chaotic and heartwarming, with screaming, shock, laughter and some angst. The reason they hid is quite significant too, and this idea has been stuck in my head for so long I wanna write it now. 😭😭😭
james who joined the death eaters for regulus that, when he gets captured by the order, breaks out into a wide grin when “prongs” accidentally slips out from sirius’ mouth because no one’s called him that in merlin knows how long
Child || Jegulus (And Harry!) Word count: 1.232
@lilldrknesss @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic @taylorswiftmicrofic
The first time Harry calls him dad, Regulus assumes he’s misheard.
It wouldn’t be the first time—Harry talks quickly when he’s excited, words tangling together until they barely resemble language. Regulus has gotten good at deciphering it, at picking meaning out of chaos. Still, this—
“Dad,” Harry says again, tugging insistently on Regulus’s sleeve. “Up. Please.”
Regulus looks down at him.
There are biscuit crumbs on Harry’s jumper and something sticky on his fingers—jam, probably—and his glasses are sliding down his nose in a way that suggests he’s been running around far too much and far too unsupervised.
Regulus blinks once. Slowly.
“I’m sorry,” he says, very precisely. “What did you just call me?”
Harry frowns, like this is the most unnecessary question in the world. “Dad,” he repeats. Then, because apparently Regulus is being particularly dense today, he points across the room. “Other Dad’s busy.”
Regulus follows the gesture.
James is halfway up a ladder, arguing with a light fixture like it has personally offended him. “If you’d just turn—no, not like that, I mean—Merlin’s sake—”
The light flickers. James swears.
Regulus looks back down at Harry.
Harry looks back up at him, utterly certain.
There’s no hesitation. No testing. Just a simple statement of fact.
“You,” Harry clarifies patiently, patting Regulus’s arm. “Dad.”
Regulus opens his mouth.
Closes it.
Across the room, James goes very still.
Slowly—far too slowly to be natural—he turns his head.
“Did he—” James starts, then stops, then tries again. “Did he just call you—?”
“Yes,” Regulus says flatly.
James stares at him.
Then, quite abruptly, he starts laughing.
Not subtle amusement. Not quiet satisfaction. Full, bright, unrestrained laughter that echoes through the room and makes Harry grin like he’s done something spectacular.
“Oh, that’s brilliant,” James says, climbing down the ladder with far less urgency than the situation probably warrants. “That’s absolutely brilliant.”
“It is not ‘brilliant,’” Regulus snaps. “It is inaccurate.”
Harry tugs his sleeve again. “Biscuit?”
Regulus pinches the bridge of his nose.
“James,” he says, with the strained patience of someone barely holding onto control, “fix this.”
James, who has made no effort whatsoever to stop smiling, crouches down in front of Harry instead.
“Alright, mate,” he says, softer now, gentler. “What’s going on, then?”
Harry gestures between them like it’s obvious. “Two dads.”
James blinks.
Then looks up at Regulus.
Regulus looks back, expression sharp and unyielding.
James tries—he really does—to keep his composure. It lasts all of three seconds.
“Oh, I’m never correcting that,” he says.
“James.”
“Nope. Not happening.”
“James Fleamont Potter.”
“That’s how this works now,” James says, completely undeterred. “You live here, you help raise him, you read him stories and tell him off when he tries to feed toast to the cat—this is the natural consequence.”
Regulus glares at him. “I did not agree to be called—”
“Dad?” James supplies helpfully.
Regulus goes very still.
Harry, sensing neither tension nor impending argument, beams up at both of them. “Biscuit?” he asks again, because priorities.
James claps a hand over his mouth, still fighting laughter.
Regulus exhales slowly.
Then, because this is apparently his life now, he reaches up, takes the tin down from the shelf, and hands Harry a biscuit.
“Thank you, Dad,” Harry says, already halfway to taking a bite.
Regulus closes his eyes.
James makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like he might start laughing again.
It doesn’t stop.
Regulus might have assumed it was a one-off—a child’s confusion, a moment that would pass as quickly as it came. But Harry is nothing if not consistent.
“Dad, can you help me with this?”
“Dad, he took my toy—”
“Dad, look!”
Each time, Regulus pauses.
Each time, he considers correcting him.
Each time… he doesn’t.
James notices. Of course he does.
He notices everything.
“You’re letting him,” James says one evening, leaning against the kitchen counter as Regulus stirs something in a pot with more force than strictly necessary.
“I am not ‘letting’ him do anything,” Regulus replies.
“You’re not stopping him.”
“That is not the same thing.”
James hums, unconvinced. “You could correct him.”
“I could,” Regulus agrees.
“But you don’t.”
Regulus sets the spoon down with a quiet clink.
There’s a beat of silence.
“…He’ll grow out of it,” Regulus says, though it sounds less certain than it should.
James tilts his head. “Will he?”
Regulus doesn’t answer.
Because the truth is, Harry doesn’t treat it like something temporary. There’s no testing in it, no uncertainty. It’s not a phase. It’s not a mistake.
It’s a decision.
And Harry, for all that he’s small, is stubborn in a way that feels… familiar.
“You didn’t hate it,” James says, softer now.
Regulus exhales. “That’s not the point.”
James pushes off the counter, stepping closer. “Isn’t it?”
Regulus meets his gaze.
There’s something steady there. Something warm and unyielding all at once.
Dangerous, in its own way.
“…No,” Regulus admits, after a moment. “I didn’t.”
James smiles, small and real. “Yeah,” he says. “I figured.”
It becomes normal in the quietest way possible.
Not something they discuss. Not something they define.
Just something that is.
Harry climbs into Regulus’s lap with a book and a determined look. “Dad, read.”
Regulus raises an eyebrow. “Demanding, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Harry says, without hesitation.
Regulus huffs, but opens the book anyway.
Harry settles against him, warm and solid and entirely trusting. His small hand curls into the fabric of Regulus’s sleeve like it belongs there.
Like he belongs there.
Across the room, James watches them.
There’s no laughter this time. No teasing.
Just something quieter.
Something that looks a lot like relief.
Later, when Harry is asleep—sprawled across his bed, one arm thrown over his head, glasses crooked—Regulus lingers in the doorway.
“Goodnight,” he says, softer than usual.
Harry stirs slightly. Mumbles something indistinct.
Then, clearer, drowsy and unguarded: “Night, Dad.”
No hesitation.
No question.
Regulus nods, though Harry doesn’t see it, and closes the door.
James is waiting in the hallway.
He doesn’t say anything at first. Just watches Regulus with that same steady expression.
“Well?” he asks eventually.
Regulus leans back against the wall, folding his arms. “He’s asleep.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Regulus knows.
He looks down the hallway instead, toward the closed door.
“…I didn’t plan for this,” he says.
“Neither did I,” James admits.
Regulus huffs quietly. “He’s very certain.”
James smiles, faint. “Yeah. He is.”
There’s a pause.
Then James steps closer, shoulder brushing Regulus’s in an easy, familiar way.
“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I think he’s right.”
Regulus glances at him. “About what?”
“About you.”
Regulus scoffs, but there’s no real heat in it. “He’s five.”
“And?” James says. “He chose you anyway.”
That lands harder than it should.
Regulus looks away, jaw tightening slightly.
“…He shouldn’t have to choose,” he says.
James shakes his head. “He didn’t. Not really.” A small pause. “He just gave it a name.”
Regulus is quiet.
Because that—unfortunately—feels true.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he admits, low.
James lets out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “Brilliant,” he says. “Neither do I.”
Regulus glances at him.
James grins, softer now. “We’ll figure it out.”
No grand promises.
No guarantees.
Just that.
Regulus considers it.
Then nods, once.
“…Alright,” he says.
And when Harry calls for them the next morning—sleepy and insistent and entirely himself—
“Dads?”
—Regulus doesn’t hesitate at all.
Wish-114words-@jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic
So this is a muggle au where the blacks weren’t a shit family, strict yes pressurising yes Not very likeable But they weren’t the extreme parents we see now. So Sirius left for uni like any sibling Regulus doesn’t have to become a monster to survive and the only time he was dark was in his emo phase at 14 where he refused to where anything except black.
When Regulus was 5 he only had one wish.
’Please let me marry James Potter,’
When Regulus was 10 he only had one wish.
”Please make James Potter look at me,”
When Regulus was 15 he only had one wish.
”Please make James Potter be mine,”
When Regulus was 20 he only had one wish.
”Please let me marry James Potter,”
When Regulus was 25 he didn’t have to wish, Because James Potter was in front of him kneeling down on one knee.
“I’ve been wishing for only one thing since I was six. Only you can make it come true. So Regulus black, Will you marry me and do me the honour of being my husband?’
Regulus' daughter AU where she is the exact carbon copy of Regulus and once Regulus and James start talking, eventually moving in with them. she pulls away. feeling a little out of place with her dads new boyfriend and her new "brother" (Harry obvi) and eventually blows up talking about how Regulus is leaving her for his new family, how they don't talk much anymore cause she now has to share her spot in his life and suddenly Regulus is standing In front of 17 year old Regulus,who holds resentment towards his brother because Sirius left for a new family and oh god she is just like Regulus.
