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Regulus Black had a flawless night in mind: cozy movies, homemade stew, and a bit of strategic snogging. What he didn’t plan, though, was his uterus launching a surprise attack.
Cue puff pastries, a period-themed playlist, and James Potter turning into the world’s most infuriatingly perfect boyfriend.
Not the night Regulus planned — but maybe exactly the one he needed. -
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“And you don’t give a shit about who I actually am, you’re just embarrassed because I was this…” He flung his hands out in a sharp, almost desperate gesture, as if grasping at the air for words. “This amazing thing you were so proud of, your… your special little creation or something, and you don’t like who I am now!”
Sirius pretended this didn’t hurt.
He didn’t want to confess this, but Regulus was right. He indeed considered his little brother his special creation. Someone good he managed to raise, something good he got to gain from the horrible situation they found themselves in during their childhood.
Sirius was aware that their relationship was borderline toxic, from this point of view. Regulus shouldn’t be his creation; in a perfect world, Sirius should only consider him his brother. But Sirius couldn’t help seeing himself as a parental figure for Regulus.
Maybe this was the eldest sibling’s fate, when it came to growing up in toxic households: be the substitute parent with the need to shield those younger than you from abuse and properly raise them, because those that should are not capable to.or: beautiful boy but make it black brothers

