mischiefbadlymanaged

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

💋✨

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

undressed by sombr is so james when jegulus breaks up

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

“icarus smiled as he fell.

because to fall meant he once soared.”

and regulus smiled too,

boney fingers tugging him deeper and deeper.

because he had been touched by the sun.

he had been loved by the sun.

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

The younger generation at Grimmauld Place always know how much trouble they're in by exactly who gets middle-named.

One of the parents is yelling "Sirius Orion!" through the house? Must be a day ending in y. Same with Bellatrix Adhara.

Andromeda Venus and Narcissa Daphne are more rare to hear, but not unheard of. Everyone's a little wary on the rare occasions they get in trouble.

And if someone is yelling "Regulus Arcturus" everyone knows to run for the hills. Because Regulus never gets in trouble, so when he does it must be absolutely catastrophic.

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

Ok, let's get something clear:

Sirius and Peter are friends.

Maybe not as good of friends as Sirius and James, or Remus and Peter, but they're still friends.

Peter is a sarcastic little shit, and Sirius has a massive ego. They're constantly making digs at each other or making fun of each other.

There is no way they could go through all of Hogwarts together, and Peter still be genuinely surprised to be addressed by Sirius. They are friends.

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

When James is on his knees Regulus is powerless to deny him anything

Except when James was on his knees begging him not to take the mark, that was the only time Regulus left him crying and desperate on the floor

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

Imagine you're opening AO3 and search for a fic. Imagine you're finding one that fits all your criterias. Imagine it has the perfect length. Imagine getting lost in the story and feeling almost high when it's over. Imagine looking up the author and they have written. so. many. more. fics. exactly. like. that. Imagine.

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

that's 6,977,229 words i read instead of studying for four months :D

(i actually have no clue how i passed the semester lmaooo)

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

listen!! listen!! regulus black becoming the best seeker ever and harry being his biggest fan and then he finds out that his dad use to date him and he tries (and plots with sirius) to get them back together just so he can call the regulus black his stepdad

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

count - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 335

James swayed in the middle of their shared flat’s tiny living room, a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky dangling from his fingertips. His glasses sat crooked on his nose, one lens smudged with fingerprints, and his hair—always messy—was somehow defying new laws of physics tonight.

“Count. Your. Days.” he repeated, slurring dramatically, as he pointed a finger like a wand at the windowsill.

Perched innocently in the corner, a small, plastic fern sat in a white ceramic pot. It gleamed softly under the streetlight filtering through the curtains. Unmoving. Silent. Judging.

James took a wobbly step forward. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? So leafy. So smug.” He narrowed his eyes, nodding as if Fern had responded. “But I know your game.”

Behind him, Regulus appeared in the doorway, barefoot and dressed in an oversized t-shirt that might’ve been James’s at some point, sleeves hanging past his elbows. He rubbed his face tiredly. “James,” he sighed, “are you… fighting the plant again?”

James turned, wild-eyed. “It’s personal now, Reg.” He waved the bottle as though explaining the gravest of matters. “It’s mocking me. Every day. Photosynthesizing.” He squinted at Fern. “Pretentious little bastard.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, padding closer. “James.” He reached out and gently plucked the plant from the windowsill, holding it up by the pot. “It’s fake.”

James blinked at it. Then at Regulus. Then back at Fern.

A beat of silence.

“Oh.” James frowned. “Well. Still. Doesn’t mean it’s innocent.” He jabbed a finger in Fern’s direction. “I’m watching you.”

Regulus snorted, setting the plant back down before wrapping an arm around James’s waist, steadying him. “Come on, you idiot,” he murmured fondly, pressing a kiss to James’s temple. “Time for bed.”

James leaned into him, already half-asleep, mumbling, “Don’t… trust it, Reg… plastic or not… it’s planning something…”

Regulus chuckled under his breath, steering James toward their room. “Right. I’ll keep an eye on it. Go to sleep, love.”

Behind them, Fern gleamed innocently in the moonlight.

Plotting. Probably.

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

Possibility (May 7th) — @wolfstarmicrofic — Warning: Grief — Word Count: 485

It has been three days since Regulus Black was announced dead.

It has been three days since Sirius Black has said a single word. "Padfoot," Remus tried gently, knowing that it would be to no avail but he had to try. "Can you at least look at me?"

Sirius was lying on his side on his bed, his arm tucked under his head to support it as he vacantly stared at a faraway spot on the wall.

"Please?" Remus, from his position kneeled down next to the bed, reached out a hesitant hand. He was relieved when Sirius let him brush away the strands of black hair that were falling over his eyes. "Sirius. Look at me."

And for some reason, Sirius did this time.

Remus almost wished he hadn't.

Sirius has always had his fair share of problems in life but even in the face of it all, he has never looked as broken as he does in the moment. It was like the life in Sirius' eyes died with Regulus.

"Remus," Sirius croaked out. "I don't remember."

"What don't you remember, love?" Remus asked tentatively, fingers absentmindedly going through Sirius' hair.

"I don't remember Regulus' voice."

Oh, and Remus, who hadn't even known Regulus Black, felt his own heart break at that.

Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat. "We hadn't talked in three years, I know, but ... what about the fifteen years before that?" His voice cracked and so did his resolve. "I tried to remember, Moony, I've been trying—I just can't. What the fuck did he sound like?"

Remus was truly at a loss for words.

"I do know he sounded like a little bitch," Sirius let out a mirthless laugh. "He was so snobbish and proper. What a fucking idiot, right?"

"You said once that he sang beautifully," Remus offered a small smile. "High praise, coming from you."

Sirius almost smiled. Almost. "He sang all the time when he was younger—it was always sad stuff. I guess, Regulus was just a sad person."

"I'm sorry, Sirius," Remus said. "I'm so sorry."

"I just wish I could remember what his voice was like," Sirius blinked back tears but they had started to spill. "I'll never know what he sounded like, Remus. There's no possibility of Regulus ever saying anything ever again—I will never remember the sound of his voice. He was my brother and I will never have the most basic part of him."

Remus understood that it wasn't just about Regulus' voice. It was about everything Sirius never saw of Regulus and the possibility of ever having him back in his life was just not there anymore. Regulus' voice, his dreams, his memory, his friendships and his family, his honor and his duty, it was all gone.

All Remus could do was hold Sirius as he mourned his brother for more than just being dead.

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

think the great thing about house md is that the characters really are just like that, not even exaggerated. house does not shut up about sleeping with wilson even though he claims they’re just bros, foreman complains about medical malpractice while stealing bone marrow and switching thirteens’s placebo, cameron marries a dying man and then sleeps with chase after she’s been on meth. then they sleep together again because they’re bored of watching their patients sleep patterns. chase is a blonde australian catholic, he’s one of the best surgeons in the hospital, he also kills a dictator. wilson is just some guy who’s been arrested before. he loves monster trucks, he’s had three failed marriages, he’ll give out his organs and blood at any given moment. something so wrong with them all but i love them very much.

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

Hands I'd recognise

Jegulus minific. WC: 936

TW: major character death, suicided thoughts? (Implied), angst no comfort (kinda)

(It's my first fic, I have no idea what I'm doing)

James knew he shouldn't have done it.

Sirius told him. Lily told him. Remus told him. He had told him. Kinda.

But he could just... not.

After Regulus disappeared, everything seemed so dull. True, they were broken up. True, he had chosen them instead of him. But also true, he couldn't stop loving him just like that.

And so, in a desperate attempt of keeping him close, James convinced Sirius to go back with him to Grimmund Place. He would've never asked Sirius to do it, but... he was a desperate man in love, trying to hold onto something, anything, to keep his lover close.

Sirius stood guard outside the door of Regulus' room. Noone was gonna come, Orion and Walburga both dead way before his youngest son vanished, but you couldn't ask an older brother to see the dust and the rumpled sheets of his younger brother, James could barely hold the sight himself. But he did. While Sirius stood outside, he looked. He searched. He moved every piece of furniture, of (almost inexistent) decorations. He needed something, anything. And he found everything.

A house elf, Kretcher, crying in a corner so quietly he wasn't surprised he hadn't seen him. A locket, carefully held on Kretcher's hands.

A notepad by his side, with a ripped out page and full of scratched out versions of a note, the same note:

To the Dark Lord

I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. And know that someone someday will finish what I've started.

R.A.B

He read over and over all the versions. Looking for an answer. And that's when his eyes locked on a little doodle on the last page. A star inside of the sun. Next to it, 3 lines.

I wish I could tell you where I'm going, but it's safer this way. Just know that I love you, I know you won't forget me. And one day you'll be happy with me in your memory"

R.A.B.

"Kretcher," James said, surprising himself with a steady voice. "Take me with him"

The sobbing stopped momentarily next to him.

"Ma-master Regulus sa-sa-said noone wa-was to ev-er find the-the cave"

"Take me to him," James insisted. "Do it for him"

----

James couldn't remember how he'd gotten there. He just knew one moment he was holding Regulus handwriting in his hand outside of a cave, and the next, he was standing on an island inside said cave. Kretcher was shaking next to him, and only then, James noticed he was soaking wet.

"He drank from there and then... they took him," said the house elf

"Took him where?" James felt like it wasn't him talking, but he was very much agreeing with what was coming out of his mouth.

A scrawny long finger pointed past him into the water. James looked, then back at Kretcher, then turned towards the start of the water.

"Go back, tell Sirius that i had to go. Tell him... I'm sorry, but I- I just can't leave him alone"

Tears had started falling, blurring his sight, but he didn't need it where he was going. He took a step.

Crack.

Kretcher was gone

Another step.

He remembered those gray stormy eyes.

The water was so close.

Another step.

That cutting smirk.

He could fall and drown on the edge if he fell.

Another step.

His cunning remarks.

The water reached his ankles.

Another step.

His hands .

The water was so cold.

Another step.

His rings.

A hand pulled out of the water and grabbed him. Hard. Punishing.

He was dragged down the water at an incredible speed, faster than he could've swam up. Another hand held him by the hip. He tried to escape. More hands found him and pulled him down.

He gasped for air like he wasn't 3 meters down the water. Many more hands.

The hands were mean. Pulled and grabbed and took and claimed. And that's how he knew. Suddenly, he felt his face being taken between soft hands. Caring and tender soft hands. Soft hands with many rings. Hands he would've recognised anywhere, even in the brink of death. Hands he would've recognised even if they had been mean. And then nothing else mattered.

He remembered one time, out in the Astronomy tower, late at night. Reg was telling him the myths the stars carried with them while laying on his lap and letting him play with his hair.

"Pyramus went to look for Thysbe that night." He had said."He found nothing but the bloody veil she had left behind in an attempt to escape the lion that tried to kill her. But he didn't know that, so he killed himself with his own sword"

James had only thought of how lovely his hair looked under the moonlight and how beautiful his voice sounded and the way his eyes... his eyes were looking at him a bit angry.

"Are you listening to me, Potter?"

James had smiled so hard he almost closed his eyes.

"Of course I am, amor"

"As i was saying," Regulus continued. "When Thysbe came back to fund her lover dead, she followed suit"

"I would too," James said under his breath. "If it had been you, I would've followed too"

Regulus had looked so lovely blushing under the moon.

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

Therianthropy is really a unique type of existential and body horror quite honestly.

Perpetually stuck longing for experiences and abilities your body is physically incapable of providing you, fighting against a form that feels utterly foreign and disfigured compared to how your mind attempts to interpret it. An animal shoved inside a vessel and society it was never meant to even have knowledge of, with no obtainable means of escape.

The horror of always appearing to those around you as something almost alien to yourself, of your own tendons and bones barring you from grasps at freedom, of being something you are not.

[mischiefbadlymanaged]

— v, excerpts from a book i’ll never write #2 (via letsbelonelytogetherr)