Ogni Parte È Viva (Every Part Is Alive)
by: @euphorial-docx
Chapters: 35
Words: 142,421
Ship: Regulus Black/James Potter
Rating: Explicit
Summary:
During the summer of 1979, Regulus Black lives with his uncle, Alphard, and other Black family pariahs in the outskirts of Trieste, Italy.
When his older brother Sirius, who’s been studying abroad in America, returns for summer break with his university friends, the last thing Regulus expected was to be swept up in a furtive romance with his brother’s new best friend.
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Peach for Timmy ! 🍑 If you could make a connection between your favorite character and another work you care about (whether a crossover/fusion or a wonderfully “pretentious” literary reference) what would it be? How would it work?
RAY RAYYYY <333
(foul for the peach thing. I haven't even watched/read cmbyn but I know he fucks a peach. )
🍑 - okay so for this one I would basically always do jegulus x tragic greek mythology. my personal favourite is orpheus x eurydice (because I truly believe love is in looking back. it's fabulous and I love it so much. there will always be at least one of these in every one of my fics !!
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james being dramatic in a meadow, reg uses legilimency to hear james/ speak to james hc, extract from a WIP fic
James didn’t know much about God. But it was on his knees in that field, under the beating sun, with Regulus’ reverent whispers reverberating in his mind, James, James, James, that he felt he finally knew his name. As though Regulus had been the one who had given it to him, repeating the word like it was sacred, was the answer to every question, was the only one he knew. The intensity of his meditations consecrated the five letters, their sound, the space between them, the very ground they were upon. In his act of worship, Regulus christened him; James.
It was as if up until that point no one had ever called him that before. No one had said it quite right, like it was true, no one had quite meant it in the way the other boy did. He was James, because Regulus had named him so. He was born then, in those moments, between the flowers and hushed words and delicate touches, and felt he’d die once the prayer stopped, and the hands withdrew, if they ever left this place.
I don’t want to die, James realised suddenly. It seemed an obvious thing to note, but James hadn’t known how badly he meant it before, or if it was something that had even crossed his sheltered mind despite the war that loomed before them. But now the thought struck such desperate fear in him.
Because death wasn’t just his cold corpse buried beneath the earth. Death was life without Regulus, without having him for every last moment. Death was separation. And as they lay there, intertwined, minds faded into one another, not knowing where one ended and the other began, James couldn’t imagine ever being severed from Regulus. Regulus, Regulus, Regulus, he thought, he plead, he promised.
James carded fingers through soft black curls and kissed closed eyelids and skated the pad of his thumb across reddened lips. James was gentle despite how badly he wanted to tear into Regulus, wanted to delve inside him and find his very soul, wanted to hold it in his palms. He knew even if he knelt there with Regulus' warm stuttering heart in his bloody hands he still would never have enough.
And James did want, more than he ever knew was humanly possible. James wanted to live, like this, always. And when Regulus kissed him, he knew they belonged to one another, with as much certainty as knew his own name.
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