#crying over dead gay wizards

[that-bitch-kat3]

(the marauders as convos me and my friends have had part 5 )

remus: that’s gotta be the inbreeding

siiurs: hey! that’s mean

remus: i’m sorry, it’s just when you asked what trains were training for… it caught me off guard

[cazzythefrogking]

ok so idk if im remembering wrong, but

regulus didn't know he was going to die when he went to get the locket, right?

I mean, he did say in the note he was going to die before voldemort ever read the note, but he didnt know he was going to die that night

He thought he was going to leave & destroy the horcrux, and die later, either from the order or from the deatheater, or even su!c!de maybe

but he didnt know he was gonna die that night

which meant he never got to say goodbye

not to james, or sirius, or any of the skittles

and his body was obviously never found

so he just... disappeared

and no one knew why

anyways that's a fun little thing to think about :'D

[jamesisthesun]

olivia’s song ‘can’t catch me now’ for the ballad of songbirds and snakes, but it’s evan in crimson rivers

[pandalilysavior]

christ this art of sirius is just so SAD. it just shows how young he was when they lost everything.

HE WAS ONLY 21

art by @/myrowx 🫶

[ecstarry]

I HAVE OFFICIALLY FINISHED WRITING MY FIRST FIC THIS SO SURREAL OMFGAKJSDNFAKJSDNFA AHAHAHDFBAHSJD

[siriuslygay1981]

Embarrassing things I think happened to the marauders (based off of what has happened to me) part 1 (Now dubbed embarrassing things, a mini series.)

James (Maybe Remus) drinks a milk shake but it does that thing where it sticks to the bottom in like a block. When it gets unstuck it falls on his face and covers from the top of his glasses to his chin. ( He does this in front of at least three people.)

[meganilmc]

we all know 11yo harry begged “not slytherin, not slytherin” to the sorting hat but what if 11yo sirius, manipulated by his family to believe all gryffindors were blood traitors, begged “not gryffindor, not gryffindor” i am crying.

[lilyofthevalleyys]

I WHAT

w h a t

h o w

w h y

w h e n

[kairospy]

Wait 👀 I thought I knew canon Reg pretty good, how do we know about him being slightly shorter than Slughorn?

I ADORE your posts!!! You’re saying everything I’ve been too shy to say. Thank you thank you thank you!

hi!!

You know that horrible, terrible, nightmare-inducing pic of Regulus from the movies?

The actor that played Slughorn (Jim Broadbent) is 1'88 cm, so roughly 6'2, and in that photograph they're standing side by side and Regulus doesn't look much shorter than 2 inches (~5 cm) at most.

I'm grasping at straws here, honestly, but everyone in the Black family is described as tall (Bellatrix is literally around 6 ft, and so is Sirius in the books), so Regulus being tiny would make no sense

And thank you so much!! I've honestly just reached a limit, seeing people speak of his character like he'd be someone with social anxiety and fear of setting boundaries and nonsense of the sort. It's true he's 90% fanon made, but let's at least be honest and not project this much -- it wouldn't fit at all into the context we have of the Black family (and what little we know of Regulus from canon)

[moonagecam]

just finished crimson rivers after a 9-month endeavor to read it in my free time (which is none) and im like. really soft about it. that shit was golden. anyway

[adharastarlight]

Okay but. You know how in No One But You (Only The Good Die Young) - Queen it says theyre "flying too close to the sun"

let me present you with: "James Potter is the sun. Regulus got too close to him and everything he knew was destroyed. He suddenly didn't know what to do with himself. He was raised to be the perfect, purest deatheater, a blood supremacist to a fault. But James fucking Potter found his way through. He 'made a sensation' and it ultimately killed Regulus. Because Regulus became good and it led to his death."

Excuse me whilst I go and sob.

[propheciesanddreams]

Just crying over this song and how much it’s Regulus in Just Lovers (like we were supposed to be)

[luminouslion]

Drew a young Remus Lupin while rewatching Prisoner of Askaban 💕

[currently-having-a-gay-crisis]

sad sirius black death day to those who don’t celebrate!!!

(it’s me and i’m very depressed about it)

[pearlynia]

Once upon a time, i was a golden trio girly and listened to "war is over" on Christmas...

Look at me nowww, crying when that song starts playing thinking about dead gay wizards.

[hp-hcs]

I saw your post about being on a big Theodore kick and HONESTLY SAME. Gimme anything Theo and I’ll read it, a Theodore Nott x male reader would honestly be incredible because there’s SO LITTLE OUT THERE (my little gay heart is broken) the plot can be anything you want I just want a happy ending please ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

OH MY GOD THAT IS SO FACTS CAN WE P L E A S E STOP WITH ALL ‘X READER’S INHERENTLY BEING FEM-SPECIFIC????

Splinched (Chapter One) — death eater! theodore nott x splinched! male! muggleborn! reader

TWs: graphic descriptions of a wound, blood, injury, and the like; also theo’s just kinda a dick ngl

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Sshhhh “…nother skirmish has broken out in D…”zzzzzz “…lley, leading to the fire that has com…” ssshhhh “…tely consumed Flourish & Blotts. It is with great sadne…” bzzzz “…nd regret that the Wizarding Wireless Ne…” sshhzzz “…ork News must inform our listeners of the murders o…” pssshzh “…Creevy and Florean Fortes…” ssshhhh “…ue. Additionally, the foll…” zzzzzzsssshh “…en abducted: L…” pssshhhzbbbbzzzz “…Alice…” zzzzzzzhhh “…Y/N L/N…”

Theodore smacks the radio once more and it goes quiet. You flinch back at the sudden aggression.

He mistakes the flinch for movement, whirling around and pointing his wand at your throat.

“Don’t. Move.”

You freeze, eyes wide, and nod rapidly.

Theodore grunts, turning back to his original task of stoking the campfire that existed as the only thing lighting the dark area. The heavily wooded space Theodore had chosen as a stopping spot for the night creeped you out. Branches constantly cracked nearby, leaves rustled with creatures passing through, and the trees rose up so high, the moon and stars were completely blocked out.

Shivering, you drew your meager cloak tighter around yourself, biting your lip in pain as you brush against your wound. You squeeze your nails into your palm to keep from crying out. The waves of pain seem never ending, the wound sending sharp stabs of agony up your ribs and across your entire torso.

“Fucking Salazar, are you really crying?” Theodore’s voice dripped with disgust. “You’re pathetic.”

“Strong words coming from a magical Nazi,” you bite out through the pain, scoffing bitterly. “Just kill me an’ get it over with, for both of our sakes.”

His face contorts into a vicious scowl and his grip tightens around his wand again. He stares at you with those terrifyingly dead eyes before moving closer to where you sit on the ground by the fire.

“You’re injured.”

“What?”

“Merlin, are you fucking stupid?” He spits. “You’re. Injured.”

“Thanks, Sherlock, I wasn’t fucking aware.”

He switches his wand to his other hand and moves even closer, tugging at the edge of your cloak. Your fingers, trembling with the pain and exhaustion you feel, let go of the fabric with no resistance.

“Lumos.”

You can hear Theodore draw in a sharp breath as he holds his wand closer to your torso. His other hand comes up and traces the edge of it with surprisingly gentle fingers.

You wince at the sudden flare of pain.

“Does that hurt?” He glances up at you. You could’ve sworn that for a second, something flashed through those dead eyes—pity, maybe, or sympathy, even?

“No, I actually always flinch whenever something doesn’t hurt.”

“No need to be a smartass,” he sneers, any traces of pity completely gone. “You got splinched.”

You grimace. “Fuck.”

“Indeed,” he drawls, tugging at your cloak. “Take this off.”

You mock-gasp. “Mr. Nott, I barely know you!”

“Merlin help me- I swear to Salazar, L/N…”

You roll your eyes and unfasten your cloak, letting it drop to the ground around you. You shiver in the late evening chill, goosebumps rising on your arms.

Theodore leans in closer, illuminating your wound with his wand. He cringes, his fingers once again returning to trace over the edges, trying to determine how large the injury is.

You gasp in pain, digging your nails into your palms again. Theodore glanced up at you, then back down at your torso.

“Think you could stand?”

You hesitate.

He nods, mostly to himself, and gets to his feet, slinging your arm around his shoulder and half-walking you, half-carrying you into the shoddy tent he’d been able to conjure. (“Believe it or not, L/N, I’ve never seen a muggle tent before. Stop laughing.”)

He helps you lay down on one of the blankets, you wincing with every little movement. He closes and wards the tent with a few simple spells, crawling over and kneeling by your side.

“Take off your shirt,” he grunts as he digs through his bag.

You comply, shaking fingers fumbling with the buttons. Theodore is caught off guard when he doesn’t hear any snappy comeback from you and glances over curiously.

Your shirt’s only about halfway unbuttoned, your fingers too slick with your own blood to unfasten the slippery buttons.

He huffs, smacking your hands away and unbuttoning your shirt himself.

He draws in another sharp breath at the sight. “Uh- this…is beyond my knowledge.”

Your breaths are shallow and your eyes closed. You nod after a second too long, blood rushing in your ears.

“‘ve you got thread an’ a needle?” You ask quietly after a moment.

“No. That’s barbaric. Fucking Merlin-” he huffs, grabbing his wand and trying a few simple healing spells that really don’t do much against a wound of your size.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. O-”

“If you say okay one more time, I’m going to punch you.”

It doesn’t seem like Theodore heard you. “We can’t Apparate, we don’t have a portkey, and you’re too injured to fly or walk. Fuck.”

“Aww, guess you’re gonna have to spend even more time with little ol’ me then, huh?”

“If you weren’t actively bleeding out, I’d crucio your ass so fast,” he threatens through gritted teeth.

“Kinky.”

Theo just sighs and rolls his eyes. “Don’t move. I’m gonna try to fix this, alright?”

“Yeah, cause you’ve been great at that so far.”

He doesn’t answer, instead slowly chanting a spell you’re completely unfamiliar with. You’ve never heard it before, but you can tell that every word that comes out of his mouth is absolutely dripping in Dark magic.

Gasping sharply, fresh, torturous pain claws at your torso, sinking its nails into your flesh and dragging the jagged edges back together. You can feel your bones being jarringly shoved back into place, your skin knitting itself back together twisted and wrong.

You bite your lip to keep from making a sound, your teeth drawing blood as you squeeze your eyes shut. Eventually, you can take no more and cry out in agony, weakly swatting at his hand for him to stop.

His wand falls from his hand with a clatter. He fumbles for what to do, settling on just gripping your hand and shushing you, as if you were a child.

Your chest spasms with the effort of taking a breath, and you grasp his hand back as tight as you can.

“Shit. Okay. Okay- uh, that’s- that’s enough, for now. We can pick this back up tomorrow,” Theo’s voice rises in pitch and his anxiety becomes palpable.

Your fingers tremble against the back of his hand, tears pricking at your eyes as you gasp in a breath. “H-hurts.”

“Shh, I know, I know. I’m sorry,” he whispers, keeping his grasp on your hand steady and smoothing down your hair with his free hand.

Theodore bit his lip nervously. The spell wasn’t finished; your ribs still looked like a jumbled up mess underneath stretched-taut skin. Your entire torso was a mess of contractured scars that left your skin looking wrinkled and messed up, like someone had pulled a running stitch through a piece of fabric too tightly.

You, one of the most bitingly acerbic, tough-as-nails guys he’d ever met, had been reduced to a whimpering, crying mess under Theo’s spell. You still held his hand, but had turned your head to press your face against his knee, mumbling incoherently under your breath.

Theodore could feel the Dark magic of his spell fizzing and crackling off of you. He bit his lip again, deliberating, before gently moving your face back from his knee so that he could lie down next to you.

You blindly reach for him, his hand on your shoulder gently guiding you to bury your face into his chest. He wraps his free arm around your shoulders, keeping you close.

Theo squeezed his eyes shut with every muffled whimper and cry that came from your lips, mentally berating himself for the odd flutter of his heart he feels when you cling to him.

Stop it, Theodore. Now is not the time.

Well…why isn’t it?

He’s alone, in a very small tent, with a cute guy who is utterly reliant on Theo for survival.

Really, what’s so bad about making the best of the current situation?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter Two