#<- so much to be said there but at that point i had Given Up
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inkskinned · 2 days ago
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you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.
but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.
i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.
so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.
you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."
i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"
"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.
i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.
and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.
you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."
"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."
you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.
i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"
"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."
"do i die?"
you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."
"oh."
"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."
i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.
i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.
"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."
i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.
you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."
"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.
you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."
"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.
i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."
you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."
"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."
"you could always die, to be fair."
i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"
"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."
i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."
"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."
i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"
"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."
i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push my heel into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"
i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.
"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."
you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.
you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.
i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.
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crescenthistory · 2 days ago
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It's Nice To Have A Friend
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Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader
Synopsis: Remus' childhood best friend is the only person he is comfortable showing unrestrained affection towards – until he one day gets in his own head about it.
Words: 14.4k
Warnings/tags: there are some suggestive remarks, brief references to "shagging" and implied underage drinking, but i would classify it as safe for minors! fem!reader, use of y/n, childhood best friends to lovers (thus you grew up in wales and use welsh terms, but you aren't said to be welsh), you are in ravenclaw (only for one plot point, not personality), platonic physical affection, romantic physical affection, kissing, "it was revealed to me in a dream" trope, some miscommunication trope, deep yearning, remus' pov (meaning loads of self-loathing and overthinking), panic attack-ish, remus cursing like a sailor and joking about jumping, kind of shy/reserved!remus, some angst, happy ending ofc, background jilypad
Note: phew this was intense but sosososo much fun to write. it is very much a fluffy fic tho, don't be worried<3 i fucking love this story/dynamic so much
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It is an ill-kept secret that Remus John Lupin struggles with romantic public displays of affection.
It was something his best friends had teased him relentlessly for since the first time he was given a Valentine Day’s card in year two by a boy that he didn’t even have a crush on mind you, and became a stuttering, spluttering mess. He could still hear James and Sirius’ barks of laughter the second that Hufflepuff was out of view and could still feel the bench shake from when Peter fell off it, clutching his stomach. Remus had been sure his cheeks would be permanently dyed red from the shame.
His one friend who did not betray him in such a manner was his oldest, namely you. Remus’ sweetheart, as Sirius called you, his childhood best friend from back home who he broke the statute of secrecy for when he was too young to realise what that meant, but who thankfully turned out to be a witch too. Something you both wept tears of joy for, as you did not have to be separated when he went off to Hogwarts.
On that horrid day, you only pinched his darkening cheeks and laughed quietly – still teasing, but in a way that felt more like admiring and less like humiliating. He faintly remembers scrunching his nose at you in response, a look you immediately mirrored before you went to hide him in the crook of your neck and gave the others a faux scolding for “embarrassing poor Rem when he is wholly capable of doing so himself”. 
His makeshift pack of friends kept that routine up for the rest of his school years, consisting of James and Sirius poking constant fun, Peter enjoying it all a tad bit too much, and you “protecting” him while laughing all the same. His affliction only worsened throughout his time at Hogwarts, but if one of his afflictions were to be the butt of a joke, he supposed he was grateful it was this one.
In moments like these, it was a tad bit difficult to keep that sentiment up, though.
“You should have seen the look on his face, doll!” Sirius made out through a laugh as the group made their way back from Hogsmeade. 
He was recounting Remus’ dance on the Three Broomsticks dancefloor with one slightly-more-rowdy-than-normal Emmeline Vance who all but dragged him out there despite his quiet sputters. You had been off on some endless errands that Remus had passionately attempted to join you for before Sirius all but bolted him to the bench because “you owe me a round, you mangy wolf”.
“I believe I have seen it many a time, Siri,” you laughed out, yelping slightly when Remus pinched your side from where he had his arm around you. “Hey!” you scolded him half-heartedly, point diminished by your grin.
“Cheeky minx, don’t side with the devil!” Remus conspired with you through a stage-whisper while glaring at Sirius, whose laughter only doubled in intensity.
“You can’t ask me to lie for you, del,” you replied in the same tone of voice, leaning up to kiss his cheek as if to apologise for your treachery. An apology that was wholly accepted as Remus tugged you closer into his side and allowed for the laughter around him to continue with a sigh.
Because therein lies the one exception – Remus Lupin was pathetically incapable of public displays of affection, unless they were with you.
His problem with these displayals was the insinuation behind them and the attention that was brought to him because of it. If Emmeline dances with him, leaving a scandalously little amount of room between them, he knows what she wants from him and everyone else does, too. If his current romantic partner kisses him in the hallway, it is a glimpse into something that otherwise occurs behind closed doors, a reveal of his private life that he does not enjoy. He wants that part hidden, and embarrassment flares through him like a rocket at the thought that others bear witness to it – and then the flames are stoked when they notice that he knows and has enough dignity to be embarrassed, which just fuels an eternal evil cycle.
You, however – your wonderful self he has known all his life, you who refused to ever leave his side despite his lycanthropy and subsequent grumpy, isolationist persona, you who are his absolute better half and light of his life – there was no reason that affection should be hidden. There was nothing secretive nor fragile in your relationship, it was the purest thing he had ever had the pleasure of having.
There was nothing insinuative or blasphemous about it, there was nothing to be held against him. He would hold you, hug you, even kiss your shoulder, cheek and forehead, because he and all else around knew that it meant nothing more. It was nothing out of the norm, nothing for others to point out and bring attention to. There was no glance into something hidden away, there was no line being overstepped. It was just two best friends, aware and proud of how much they meant to one another.
So Remus never had any hesitations about leaning into your touch, about seeking yours out, about lips identifying exposed skin and staying there for a moment or two. It was something he began doing before he truly knew what embarrassment entailed, it was muscle memory as much as instinct these days.
And if others did not understand it fully, that was an issue Remus for once felt no confinement to public opinion on. If people made assumptions or threw glances, it held no importance to him. Even his Marauders, Sirius especially, raised their eyebrows at your proximity when you all first met, but they understood the routine of it all quickly. That these two first years before them were a package deal in every form of the word. It was quickly accepted within your little pack, albeit fondly commented on every now and again. James had Sirius in that same unrestrained way, bodies strewn across each other at any given opportunity, so why couldn’t Remus have you? Why wouldn’t he?
Never mind that Sirius was officially brought into James and Lily's relationship at the end of last term.
“Well, James would hug anything that moved and seemed like it might need it.” Sirius had argued one night many years ago, not needing to add the and I need it.
“And isn’t that lovely for Prongs,” Remus had drawled in return. “But I need a few years to get there, and Y/N happened to be more strategic than you lot.”
“By knowing you first?”
“Precisely. Also, she’s lovelier than you.” 
It had earned him a snort and a pillow to the face, but it was accepted without further questioning. With the exceptions only occurring in a drunken babble here and there from Sirius, alone in their dorm after a party. Remus is quite certain he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence if his life depended on it in those states, and so he never took it to heart.
Remus revelled in having something of his own, someone only he understood on that level, and his heart always warmed when he thought about how lucky he was that that someone was you.
He subconsciously pulled you even closer at that thought, content and comfortable to do so whether that be around his marauders or in front of the whole Great Hall; there was nothing more to it to be embarrassed of. It was just you; just Y/N and Remus. Like always.
“You occluding yourself away from your menace of a dorm mate?” you whispered to him then, and he angled his chin down slightly with a smile to find you looking at him curiously.
“Oh, yeah,” Remus agreed with a solemn nod. “Must prepare for being locked up in a room with him all night. It’s tedious work, you know?”
“Most certainly.” You attempted to match his faux severity, but a giggle escaped you nonetheless – a beautiful one that Remus decided to mentally save for the night, should Sirius become unbearable.
Speaking of; “I take great offence to that,” Sirius proclaimed from the few strides ahead he was, pointing his finger in Remus’ direction without turning around. “Dog-like hearing, Moony, don’t think you can get away with badmouthing me here!”
“Dog-like he says,” Remus whispered to you, earning him an indignant “oi!” as Sirius finally turned around.
“Gorgeous, would you tell your worse half to knock it off?”
“I sure will,” you declared, turning your body more towards Sirius in Remus’ grasp. “Siri, sweetheart, would you knock it off?”
Within the second, Sirius’ offended expression transformed into one of giddiness. “Awe, princess, you think of me as your other half?”
“Worse half, Pads,” James interjected, looking over his shoulder bemusedly.
“Do keep up,” Remus added with a half-hearted glare.
“Irrelevant!” Sirius threw his hands up and spun around in celebration. “I have won the title of her other half, you can get lost Moons.”
Remus used his arm around your shoulders to angle you back away from Sirius. “I think not. I’ve been keeping this friendship for so long, she’ll need a lawyer to get rid of me,” he stated matter-of-factly, looking down at you at the last bit. “Capiche?” He tilted his head at you.
You hummed through a poorly-withheld smile, as if you were considering it. “Sure thing, cariad. Meet with our lawyers tomorrow after lunch?”
Remus gasped as you ripped out of his grasp and stuck your tongue out at him. Flashbacks of your younger days chasing each other down dirt roads came to his mind and widened his grin as he saw you back away from him, eyes trained on his expression. 
“Minx,” he breathed out through a laugh just before you sat off running away from him; Remus hot on your heels, laughter escaping him freely. Sirius began running with you, though he was slowed as he twirled around and hollered, surely waking the entirety of the mountaintops surrounding the castle.
James had been minding his own business for once as he engaged in quiet conversation with Lily and Pandora, but his eyes twinkled as he eyed his three running friends, exchanging a knowing look with the redhead.
“Young love,” Pandora sighed dreamily, though James could never be certain if she was looking at the loud, carefree forms before them or at something entirely different.
Remus saw you stopped running while still some dozens of metres away from the castle, still facing away from him, but arms opening to accommodate for the impending crash of his body against yours. It does something funny to his heart to think about, but he just lets it widen his smile as he did exactly as expected – let his arms loop around your waist and twirl you around as he caught up to you. 
Your out-of-breath giggles permeated into his ears as his face was tucked in between your neck and shoulder as he slowed down, laughter calming in his own chest.
“Caught you,” he whispered through his own breathlessness. “Happy now?”
You turned in his grasp, squeezing at his shoulders both to show affection and seemingly to steady yourself as your chest still heaved; Remus held you tighter to help you in the latter endeavour. “Shook off Sirius for a bit, so yeah, I am. As should you be.”
He dropped his head laughing at that, glancing behind him through his hair to see Sirius bent over, hands on his knees as James had already caught up to him and was patting his back in sympathy. Any other time of the month, Remus would likely have been right there with him, but this was a good week and you always seemed to be able to find some semblance of energy within him, even if he thought he had none.
“I take back my calling you minx, then.” He looked at you with a smile. “That was strategic.”
“Are you saying minxes can’t be strategic, Loopy?” You raised your eyebrows at him teasingly, pulling slightly out of his grasp to breathe better.
“I’m saying– don’t call me Loopy.”
Your smile became almost taunting at that, and Remus knew his comment likely only worsened the likelihood of you using that nickname now. “I just remembered how I used to call you that the other day actually,” you mused, putting on an innocent smile. “I don’t remember why I stopped, I just forgot about it. I think it might be time for a renaissance.” 
“I think I’m too out of breath for you to say things like that. I can’t chase you any further, but that deserves to be chased.”
You shoved lightly at his shoulder at that. “You’re getting too old, you’re no fun.”
“I’m super fun. Textbook definition,” Remus harrumphed, gleaning when you rolled your eyes through a burst of laughter.
“No one who references textbook definitions is fun, Moons!” James called from where the group was catching up to you two, finally within earshot. 
Sirius was practically draped across James’ shoulder, breath still coming heavy. He pointed yet another accusatory finger, this time at you. “You’ll be the death of me, dollface. Merlin’s tits.”
“Don’t blame me for your own inadequacy, gorgeous,” you quipped back. It made Remus rather proud, especially when Sirius groaned dramatically in response.
“Time to get some beauty sleep then, yeah?” James coaxed, giving Sirius’ cheek a peck as he continued effortlessly dragging him in through the entrance of the castle.
Lily hummed in agreement, poking one of her boyfriends in the side. “Yeah, Sirius seems to need it.”
“You think I’m so sexy, Red, don’t lie to yourself,” Sirius mumbled, petulantly remaining worn out over James’ shoulders.
Remus smiled at his friends, hand reaching out behind him blindly, knowing you’d find it. Surely enough, your fingers intertwined with his own and gave him a little tug to hasten his gait down the hallways.
Moving up the staircases with surprisingly little trouble, the group finally found themselves outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, ready to split up with you and Pandora heading to Ravenclaw and the rest clambering inside. 
You made your goodbyes, quick hugs and kisses on cheeks with Lily and James and a kiss to the hand from Sirius who had decided to lay down dramatically on the floor. When you turned to Remus at last, just a tad bit away from the others, he enveloped you in a warm hug, breathing you in as he settled his chin on your shoulder.
“Let me walk you?” he asked, already knowing you would say no.
“Nice try Loopy, but I’d rather you go inside to the warmth and head to bed,” you murmured into his neck. “Thank you, though.”
You always said no. He always asked, anyway. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly protective or otherwise missed you too much, he’d go with you anyway. Today he decided to respect your wishes.
“Tell me again why you had to be an independent person and get sorted into your own house?” he grumbled against you, smiling when he felt your chest rumbling beneath him. That same smile softened when your grip on him grew just the slightest bit tighter.
“Something tells me you’ll survive.” 
He tightened his hold on you in turn, one arm around your waist and the other stabilising your neck, before he spun your body around twice, twirling along the hallway. He relished in the laughter that escaped you and ensured to stamp a proper kiss to your hair before he released you back down to the floor.
“Sleep well, dove.”
“Goodnight, cariad,” you said through a soft smile, giving him and the others a small wave before turning around to where Pandora was waiting, grabbing her hand as you two all but skipped down the hallway together.
With his eyes still glued on your disappearing form, Remus nearly yelped as James’ hands came up to settle roughly on his shoulders – albeit somewhat careful of his joints – steering him through the now-opened portrait, who was rambling on with complaints about students taking up the space in front of her for too long.
“Funny that,” James started. 
Remus gave him a puzzled look. “What, Prongs?”
“Just that you danced with one Ravenclaw at the Three Broomsticks for two minutes and gained the colour and conversational skills of a tomato; but when you twirl and kiss this Ravenclaw, all you’re left with is that goofy grin of yours.” James’ comment seemed off-handed, said over his shoulder as they walked through the empty common room.
“First of all, it’s Y/N we’re talking about and not some Ravenclaw,” he started, confusion laced in his voice. In the meantime, James and Sirius kissed Lily goodbye, the latter giving her bum a light tap as she moved up the stairs to the girls’ dorms. “Secondly, it’s Y/N. She’s my best friend, and one of yours, mind you. What’s there to go all tomato for?”
“Some would argue, there is never any reason to go all tomato,” Sirius taunted, ducking the smack Remus aimed towards him.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” James laughed, literally waving it off. “Just pointing out the parallel. Ironic, innit?”
“Don’t see why it would be,” Remus grumbled petulantly in return. Sirius reached up to ruffle his hair somewhat roughly before entering their dorm, where Peter was already waiting for them, tucked into bed.
“What’re we laughing about tonight, fellas?” he questioned without looking up from the magazine he was reading through. Remus was fairly certain he had seen Mary reading through that very same magazine last week.
“Oh just at Remus’ peculiarities with birds.” Sirius felt emboldened with his comment from where he was crouched behind his bed – ample distance to protect him from Remus, he surely gathered.
“So, nothing new? Nice.” Peter returned his attention to the magazine it never really left.
“Yeah, don’t worry Pete – your friends are just as big arseholes as on any other day.” Remus bent down to pat the boy on the shoulder before moving over to his own bed, between Peter and Sirius’. 
“Hey, I don’t mean to be an arsehole,” James complained with almost a full pout across his lips within a second of Remus’ comment. “We’re just having a bit of fun psychoanalysing you, s’all.”
“Which, of course, is a generally accepted polite thing to do.” Remus nodded as if he was gravely understanding, only flipping James off when the other boy didn’t catch his sarcasm.
“No, Remmy, what would be rude is to point out how you are desperately–” Sirius began with taunting mirth plastered all over his face, but he was cut off as James all but jumped on him to cover his mouth. 
The black haired boy looked up at his boyfriend first with some offence and then a look Remus didn’t want to witness.
“How about we leave poor Moony alone for the night, huh baby?” James questioned, moving his hand away from Sirius’ mouth as the other boy nodded almost dumbly, still staring up at him.
“Who’s turning red now?” Remus whispered to himself as he looked through his trunk for his pyjamas. He barely had the reflexes to catch the pillow Sirius hurled at him, tossing it back with a loud laugh that was quickly reciprocated by his best mates.
As if a miracle had been awarded them by some forgiving gods, the boys’ dorm room quieted down fairly quickly after that. Sirius and James settled in Sirius’ bed for the night, barely fitting themselves onto the mattress that was almost too small for one boy, let alone two. Once in each other’s arms, however, it was an easy thing to drift off. Peter was asleep before the other three had even brushed their teeth.
Remus was the only one tossing. Not unusual, but he couldn’t really understand why that was tonight. 
His sleep cycle often closely followed the moon’s, and he was almost two weeks away from the full moon, a perfectly decent time for falling and staying asleep. Tonight, though, his body was once more fighting him. He kept replaying the night, the conversations, the interactions, trying to pin his unrest on something. He supposed that dance with Vance had been unexpected and the adrenaline spike of all the attention following it might still linger and make sleep evade him. 
Despite what his dismay for public romantic displays might indicate, Remus was no prude. As a matter of fact, just as Sirius had before he was locked down, Remus was no stranger to making his rounds at the occasional common room party. Rarer was it that he shagged anyone back home, as he spent most of his time with you, but it had happened here and there too. Vance and him had even spent a night together once at a quidditch afterparty, but he had no significant interest in her apart from a mutually understood night of fun. He never really did, even when his partners were great in all capacities. It just didn’t seem that romance was an object for Remus – and good riddance, if the struggles of dealing with it so far was any sign.
Perhaps that was it then, dancing with Vance had rehashed something for him. Though the idea didn’t settle well in his bones, Remus also knew that he would never settle if he didn’t give his mind an excuse for his sudden restlessness.
After checking the time with a hefty sigh, he decided to throw in the towel and took a small sip of a sleeping draught potion he had at the ready in his bedside table at all times. If sleep would not come to him, he would hunt it down damn it. His friends’ playful mockery and a dance he didn’t even want to partake in would not cause him any more torment.
As Remus slipped into the land of dreams, he may come to regret that sentiment, if but a bit.
There are warm bodies pressed uncomfortably close to him – the warmest of which has her arms around his neck, one hand scraping through his hair. It should feel good, Remus enjoys when his hair is played with, but this feels sharp enough to draw blood. Emmeline’s laugh is all he can make out over the chatter and stomping around him, but it feels wrong, scratchy like a record player. Her fingers on him are cold, unlike anything else in the room.
It is spinning. The room, that is. Remus is unfocused, as if he had been shooting vodka and not butterbeer earlier. He can’t quite make out any of his friends, or anyone really, Emmeline’s features bleeding out into the background.
For some reason his heart is pounding the way it does before his transformation. Everything feels painfully wrong and he is aware of every inch of his body where Emmeline is touching him.
She is still laughing and Remus is sure it would make his ears bleed, which only confuses him further because Emmeline is truly a nice girl. Just not one he wants to feel flush against himself at the moment.
He reaches a hand up to touch his ear – realising only now that his arms are hanging limply by his sides, the only static thing in the otherwise spinning room – and when he retracts his hand to look at it, his fingers are coated with blood.
His breathing grows ragged as he feels the blood running down the side of his neck. He has half a mind to tell Emmeline, to shout for help. He doesn’t. Nothing comes out when he tries to open his mouth, all control of his body ripped from his grasp.
With no warning he realises the wetness on his neck is not blood, but someone’s open mouth smearing kisses down it with reckless abandon. His stomach ties in knots and he wants to push Emmeline off of him, still to no avail.
Her grip on him tightens painfully, and Remus swears he feels a bone break. He would know.
The flurry behind her has just become a swirl of colours and sounds to him and Remus feels himself drowning in a moment he desperately wants away from. He shuts his eyes hard, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.
He feels a warmth in his chest, starkly different from the heat around him, that slowly, like thawing ice, begins to spread throughout him. He hums the melody you sang to him during his first ever panic attack, the sweet one that always lulls him to sleep, and the warmth spreads faster.
With his eyes still screwed shut, Remus begins to regain the feeling in his legs first, noticing them swaying back and forth to some calmer, unknown rhythm.
The feeling in his hand returns too, and it’s clasped around someone else's. Theirs is also warm, light and fits much better in his, though he’s not quite sure what he’s comparing it to.
The front of his body is warmer than the back as he’s pressed up against someone, swaying with them in a slow dance that would never have worked in the middle of Three Broomsticks. It flows with his soul.
At last, Remus can hear again, as if coming up from water. He hears that it was not him humming, but rather a soft figure tucked under his chin, humming the vibrations of the melody against the side of his neck.
When he tightens his arms instinctively, he does not need to open his eyes to know it is you.
He does anyway, looking down at you, standing in his arms, swaying together in an empty Gryffindor common room. There is a lazy smile on your lips as you look up at him, cheek against his chest, eyes twinkling like the starlight.
Remus feels right. Remus feels good. His thoughts are honey, sweet but slow, coating over any coherent reactions he might have to standing here with you like this. He escaped and he is with you and all is right once more.
Have you danced like this before? Did it feel like this then?
You seem unpuzzled, relaxed. The warmth settles in Remus for good.
“Hey handsome,” you whispered, as if you were sharing a secret with him before angling your face more up towards his.
Remus is not in charge of his body when his neck dips down and lets his lips meet yours halfway, casual and expectantly, a habit as much as a wish. You taste like yourself. You smell like yourself. Remus is surrounded by you, cornered by your smile against his lips.
You pull back all too quickly, furrowing your brows at him. Dream-Remus has no hesitation of removing the hand from around your back to thumb at the furrow, brushing away any negative thoughts from you. He kisses the spot between your eyebrows.
Everything is right.
When his eyes meet yours again, the concerned look in them has not changed. You reach a tentative hand up to his cheek, thumb swiping over his cheekbone as you hold him with what he irrevocably knows to be love. 
“It’s time to wake up, cariad,” you said with a small sad smile.
The last thing Remus remembers is the feeling of the floor disappearing beneath him.
Remus sat up with a gasp, and for a rare moment in time he was speechless.
He was not a stranger to invasive, questionable or downright spiritual dreams, a side effect of both his connection with the moon and the tons of potions he has taken over the years. Usually, he is present in his dreams and acts as his own little commentator during and after them, narrating what happens and what he thinks of it.
It was not uncommon for him to think “I think I will remember this one” as the final thought in a dream. Or when he wakes up in tears, his first thought was often “that was a bit dramatic of you, calm down”.
Now, he had nothing. Now, he was speechless.
Worse yet, usually when he wakes up with a jolt, it is in the middle of the night – but now, as his senses began to trickle back in, he could hear the commotion around him that only could mean the boys are at various stages in the process of getting ready.
Remus Lupin had just had a life-altering, earth-shattering dream, and James Fleamont Potter was repeatedly knocking his knee into his nightstand as he jumped around while tying his shoes on, instead of sitting down to do it like a normal person would.
He thought James was saying something, and maybe even to Remus specifically, but he could still hear the blood rushing through his head. Beneath that again, he could hear your humming. 
With a groan, Remus let himself topple over from his sitting position to land face-first into his duvet.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck?
“Oi!” Remus finally heard, as what felt like a rolled up pair of socks hit his head. “What in Godrick’s name has gotten into you, mate? You good?” It was Sirius voice calling, seemingly from across the room.
Remus just groaned in reply. His eyes were wide open as he stared directly into his sheets, feeling both freezing cold and like his brain was slowed by a fever.
“You okay, Moons?” Peter’s voice came gentler from beside him. Remus thought his hand might be hovering near him, as if he was considering consolingly patting him but was unsure if he should.
Another groan.
“Okay, what about this: groan once if this is Moony mooning over something and twice if you’re in actual crisis,” James suggested, not unkindly.
A singular groan, though it sure did feel like two.
“Groan once if you’re a prick and twice if you’re insufferable,” Sirius felt the need to comment.
Instead of making any further sounds, Remus wrangled his arm from beneath the blanket to show Sirius how he felt about him in the moment with a gesture.
“Fantastic!” James exclaimed. “You have class in 35 minutes, Moons, and breakfast now, so best get a move on.” Remus heard the telltale sound of James leaving – as in, James’ heavy footsteps moving across the floor and Sirius scrambling like a dog to follow after him. At the complete lack of sounds in the rooms after that, he assumed Peter moused after them as well.
At last Remus sat up with a sigh and stared emptily in front of him, mind moving too fast for him to catch a thought but too slow for him to properly process anything.
What does this mean? 
Except Remus could no longer deny that he knew what it meant. That the instant your humming caressed his ears, he knew what it meant. That his subconsciousness wanted to replace a girl who saw him as a romantic prospect in a place Remus felt queasy in with you in a place he considered home. That is no coincidence.
And that when you kissed him–
Except you did not kiss him. Remus shook his head at that, as if the thoughts could just tumble out of his ears. You did not kiss him and he did not kiss you. Because this was a dream, it was not real and Remus must just be really, really unwell.
He felt unwell, but not in the way he was trying to convince himself.
Taking one deep breath, Remus looked to the awning of their little dormitory and shot out a silent prayer for any higher power to listen.
Put me back together, I cannot fall apart like this.
Bury this back down deep, I cannot feel like this.
It was going to be a long day.
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
By the time Remus had made it to the entryway to the Great Hall, feeling frazzled and less put together than he had an excuse to, he saw his group of friends making their way out.
“Rem!” It was you who caught sight of him first, and immediately beelined towards him, the others following closely behind, wearing varying degrees of concern and confusion as they looked him up and down.
Your face was by far the most concerned, as you immediately brought your left hand up to cup his cheek. “Are you alright, cariad?”
For the first time in your almost two decades of friendship, Remus was painfully aware of your physical proximity.
He always knew, of course, but it never really registered with him – it was completely natural. Right now, nothing about him felt natural. You stood flush with him and he felt you against him like a fire, skin singeing beneath his clothes. Your eyes seemed so big looking into his that he could get lost in them, his only internal monologue being a dreamy sigh and a long string of curse words at the absolute madhouse chaos that his mind was becoming. As he looked at you, it was like he could see his version of you from his dream as well, how you looked at him with so much love and admiration, how your lips inched closer to his.
“Mate?” Remus realised then, that he had been staring at you for far too long, not answering your question, to the point where James had to try to catch his attention.
“I– uh,” Remus sputtered, eyes flickering wildly all over your face, panic rising in his chest as he realised he could not think clearly with you so close.
He took a step back without thinking, just barely out of your grasp but still close, and shook his head. “Sorry, yeah, no, yes, I just feel a bit… off today.”
The furrow between your brows deepend, and once more his mind flashed back to his dream. His hand twitched. It seemed like you weren’t even aware of it when you took a step closer, to be back by his side, reaching your wrist up to place it on his forehead to feel his temperature. “You’re feeling poorly?” you whispered so quietly and so lovingly Remus thought he might faint.
Was it always like this? It was always like this. Why was he freaking out about it then? He was freaking out. What the fuck was wrong with him?
With horror, Remus realised that a slight blush was creeping up his neck, and he fought hell to keep it down as he cleared his throat. “Just a little, uh, dove, it’s nothing to worry about.”
“Do you want to go lay down?” You began what he knew would be a string of suggestions for things to do to make him feel better, and he could not stand watching you be so concerned when he was lying to you.
Almost like a flinch, he pulled back out of your arms – properly this time, taking several strides backwards away from the group. It barely registered with him that James and Sirius were looking at him with some confused amusement while Lily looked sympathetic.
“I, erm, will be fine, yeah? Nothing to worry about.” Without properly looking, he reached an arm out to grab Peter by the shoulder and all but manhandled him to his side. “Peter and I have Herbology now, but uh, I’ll catch you later?”
Remus hated how everything he said sounded like a question, like he was running a lie by you for you to confirm if it was believable. Remus hated that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face for more than a few seconds and most of all he hated that he was spiraling under the weight of your gaze in turn. A horrible combination.
“Take care, Rem,” you whispered as he all but ran away from you, hauling Peter along.
You stood looking after him for a moment, only turning your head when you felt Lily’s reassuring hand on your shoulder to find a small smile on her face.
“What in the buggering hell was that?” Sirius questioned, looking mostly at you for an answer.
“I don’t know,” you said, honestly. Had you known, you might still not have told him, though, if you thought Remus wouldn’t want you to. “I usually always know about his moods before they come, but this has me stumped,” you murmured, mostly to yourself.
“He woke up weirdly,” James mused, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I guess we’ll just see where the day goes, yeah?”
The four of you nodded at each other, but you still gnawed on your lip in concern, glancing over your shoulder to where he disappeared. 
Whatever it was, you hoped he would come talk with you about it when he was ready.
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Remus only had one hour to compose himself during Herbology before he had Charms with you. Sharing most of his classes with you was something he had always considered a blessing, and while that sentiment would likely never fade, it was also causing him some distress as he almost toppled the work desk with his jittering.
Peter didn’t question him, but Remus’ obvious nerves were apparently contagious for the anxious boy who jittered right along with him, casting him the occasional glance.
Letting his elbows fall heavily on the desk, Remus put his head in his hands and ignored the instructions Professor Sprout was walking them through – he would let Peter pick up the slack for once and then subsequently accept the lower marks. Right now, Remus had to think and get his shit together.
He breathed his way through some panic exercises and pictured you in his mind. It almost brought a smile to his lips in an instant and for the first time, he let the realisation of how irrevocably wrecked for you he was.
Has it always been like this? Why have I never put this into words before? How can I revert back?
In that moment, Remus decided two things. Firstly, there was no possibility of you returning his feelings nor would he ever expect you to. It was true that you accepted and loved him in a way he never could quite believe himself deserving of, but that in itself is testament that it couldn’t be any more. What you gave him was already too much, it would be unthinkable for you to harbour even deeper feelings for him.
Second, and most importantly, he could not lose you. Remus has made many mistakes in his time, but he could not live with himself if he lost you. It would be too much. Because regardless of the fact that he now knew he was– that he now knew what he knew, the friendship between you was the most important thing. It was Remus and Y/N, right?
He could not be weird and sputtering, he could not make you uncomfortable. Meaning, he could not withdraw from you despite his instinct to run and hide. Shame burned within him at the thought that even if he could withdraw he didn’t know if he could fight his want not to. You were muscle memory.
Remus opened his eyes and slowly dragged his palms down his face in resolution. He would have to act as if nothing was wrong, and he would have to lie through his bloody teeth to explain away whatever bodily reactions he has.
If he starts stammering, he will have to shut up and lie that he is tired. If he becomes an embarrassing shade of auburn, he will have to cough and lie that he might be coming down with a fever. If he shakes, it is because of lack of sleep. If he, Merlin forbids, cries, he will have to claim he must be coming down with some odd moonsickness. You will surely follow him to Madam Pomfrey and maybe it will be easier when you’re alone.
Or maybe it will be worse.
No matter which it was, Remus would have to soldier it, for your sake. You did not deserve his imposing infatuation, but you also did not deserve to lose what you thought to be a loyal friend.
When him and Peter packed up the barely-used desk and mumbled a goodbye to a disapproving Sprout in the door, Remus made it his mission to focus on his breathing again as he almost ran down the hallways to where your friend group always met up outside the Charms classroom.
Be normal, be normal, be normal.
Your eyes found him the second he rounded the final corner, almost as if you had been watching it, waiting for him. A beautiful smile lit up on your face as soon as you saw him, albeit a bit dampened by the worry in your eyes – he simultaneously wanted desperately to soothe you while also berating himself for it being there. His fault.
“Hey dovey.” He forced his words to be casual, his smile to be measured as he strode up beside you. 
This is where he is supposed to drag you into a sideways hug, squeezing your hips while dropping a kiss on the top of your head, causing Sirius to make some quip about “you were literally just gone an hour. He stood beside you perhaps a beat too long before he began to do so with shaking hands, and he felt your burning look as you studied him. Remus made it all the way up to where he would kiss your head before he chickened out due to the tornado screaming in his stomach.
“Hi, Rem,” you all but whispered, your words just for him. You opened your mouth to say more, but he was afraid of what it would be.
“Waited long?” he asked to distract you from it.
“Nah,” you said and leaned further into his side. “But I’m glad you’re here now. How’re you feeling?”
At that, he saw Peter, Sirius, James and Lily – who had been stuck in their own little world – look up and try to hear what he has to say. Remus crumbled under their watchful gazes, knowing they knew him well enough to pick apart his every little reaction. He cleared his throat.
“I don’t really know,” he settled for. “My head’s murky, didn’t sleep well.”
You made a soft cooing sound and started rubbing circles on the side of his hip from where your arms were circled around him. It knocked a wave of dizziness into him that made him want to take a step back to lean against the cold stone wall behind you. In replacement he settled for holding onto you tighter; it only made it worse.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go lay down? Merlin knows we won’t be missing out on anything with the way Flitwick rambles away any sense he might have.”
This is where Remus would laugh heartily at your obvious disdain for the professor that he never truly understood. Instead, his mind zeroed in on one word you said.
We. We, we, we, we.
Circe’s tits, did he want to take you up on that.
He swallowed, acutely aware that you must have heard the sound when stood so close to him, though you didn’t give away any reaction. To buy himself a moment to collect his thoughts, Remus finally dared tilt his chin downwards to kiss the top of your head. It might have been too slow, too tentative, but his heart was beating so fast the rest of his body felt too slowed down in comparison. He hoped you thought the kiss was a thank you for caring and not the nervous stall it was. He hoped he wouldn’t be eternally damned for breathing in the scent of you.
“I’m quite alright, dove,” he murmured instead, furiously avoiding the surely questioning gazes of his other friends. “Thank you, though.”
You grumbled some but didn’t push him on it. He silently thanked you for that, too.
His throat was too parched to partake in the silent banter amongst his friends as you walked into Charms, too focused on where your bodies brushed as you walked, too deafened by the sound of your laughter.
You sat down in your regular spots, you and Remus side by side in the front, with Sirius and James behind you and Lily and Mary to your right. This was normal, this was alright. Flitwick droned on about the theoretics and debates around the charms you learned last lesson, it went in one ear and out the other.
Absentmindedly, you had grabbed Remus’ hand lightly between yours and were tracing soothing circles along his wrist and palm. You meant so well, and this would have cured likely any other ailment Remus struggled with, but right now there were fireworks going off in his head.
Taking advantage of the notice Dumbledore had given all of his professors to not call Remus out on sleeping in class, he folded his arms and laid his head down on them, carefully not to take his hand away from you. If he could shield his face, he could probably talk himself down before class ended.
In the solitude of his arms, he could picture it was just the two of you, sitting in the treehouse you built between your houses as children. If he focused enough, he could smell the apples that grew around him and feel the rough wood beneath his stomach. There, your hand would still be in his, maybe even your cheek on his chest, and it would be alright. It would all be alright because it was just you, and Remus could play dumb and he would never have to realise his feelings and fuck himself over.
It almost worked. Until he was interrupted.
“Psst! L/N?” The whisper was laced with a laughter Remus knew too well and did not care for.
You clearly ignored it – Remus could practically see the eye roll you surely threw his way – but that wasn’t enough to stop his theatrics.
“L/N!” Barty called once more from a couple seats behind you to your right, voice threatening to alert Flitwick to your inattention. “What’s wrong with your dog?”
“What?” you whispered back in equal parts confusion and irritation.
“Your puppy, Lupin,” Barty said, as if it was obvious. Unfortunately, Remus could picture his eye roll too, though his stomach was turning for a wholly different reason. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Remus is quite alright, Junior,” you hissed back, hand tightening on Remus’ at the same time as he loosened it. “And don’t call him a dog.”
Remus slowly lifted his head from his arms and took back his hands to wipe harshly at his face, still not looking towards Junior who barked a low laugh.
“Follows you around like one. Wouldn’t surprise me if you had some invisible leash going on–” Barty quipped, cutting himself off before you could respond and turning to Evan Rosier sitting beside him. “Oooooh, an invisible leash is a marvellous idea, Rosie.”
It was clear you had lost his attention, but Remus’ face still burned painfully as he shifted in his seat. With a harrumphing sound, you turned to look at him. He didn’t meet your eye, couldn’t.
“Ignore him.” Remus always marvelled at how you manage to convey your frustration and care at the same time.
He just hummed in the affirmative, still wiping a bit harshly at his face. If he treated it harshly enough, could he blame his violent flush on it?
“Cariad,” you mumbled, gently taking his hands away from his face, clearly spotting his efforts.
He saw your furrowed eyebrows looking at him, and that was the end of what he could take for the lesson. As you opened your mouth, surely to inquire about how he is, like the beautifully kind person he knows you to be, he pushed his chair backwards.
“I think I should probably listen to you and go lay down, dove,” he murmured, avoiding your gaze. Before you could shoot in and say you would come with him, he continued. “Can you please take notes for me in Transfiguration after this?” 
An indirect rejection, a plea for isolation. He didn’t look at your face as he gathered his things, waiting for you to respond instead.
“Sure, if that’s what you want,” you said carefully.
What I want is you.
“Yes, please.” Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and pressed a parting goodbye kiss to your cheek, tradition. “Thank you, love.”
Then he was sneaking his way out around the desks, barely catching a murmured voice he knew to be Sirius’, likely leaning forward to ask you about him. His lips singed.
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Remus hid away in his room for two hours, actually being truthful and trying to get a nap in. The dorm room felt serendipitous, being swept up in rare silence and a grace of darkness as he trickled in and out of consciousness. If he dreamed more of you, he would not admit it.
Any semblance of reprieve he might have chased down was ripped away from him by the creaking of the door and the wall of sound that followed his three favourite boys who always got on his last three nerves.
“Oi, Moons!” Sirius exclaimed, far too cheerily. “You know the rules!”
Remus propped his head up on his elbow from where he was sprawled on his stomach, looking blearily at the three figures as they situated themselves within the dorm. “The rule to not wake a sleeping sod? Yes, I’m the only one who knows that rule it seems.”
Sirius took off his sweater as he discarded his uniform and used it to swat at Remus. “Nope! No wallowing on your own. Sharing is caring.”
“‘M not wallowing,” Remus grumbled as he let his head fall back into his pillow.
Letting his guard down was undoubtedly a mistake because the second Sirius was out of sight, he had the audacity to jump into Remus’ bed, nearly flinging him off from the impact. Both Sirius and James were laughing boisterously as Sirius collapsed on top of Remus and ruffled his hair when he tried to shove him off. “Not anymore, no, we won’t let you.” 
Remus hated that he loved them.
“Precisely,” James added as he pointed at Remus from where he was changing into his non-uniform clothes as well. “So either speak your mind or perk up, buttercup.”
Remus groaned but let Sirius drag him up into a sitting position. “Can a poor lycanthrope not have one off day without you lot getting your knickers in a twist?” Despite his best efforts, there was no ire in his voice.
“Nope!” James said, popping the p. “Not on our watch.”
“Life is simply miserable without our Moony,” Sirius said, clutching his chest as if he was ailing. “And do you have any idea how weird it is to see your sweetheart without you by her side? It’s like watching a cut up picture.”
All humour that had been creeping into Remus’ expression was washed away in and instant as he swallowed harshly, suddenly averting his gaze from Sirius. Instead, James caught it, who looked at him with big eyes behind his glasses, cocking his head to the side. He looked far too much like the stag he is, before his mouth opened in a small gasp. “Oh,” he whispered softly.
Remus’ heart was beating painfully hard at the look of realisation that crossed his face, turning back to Sirius who had a similar knowing, almost pitying look in his eyes. No, no, no, no.
“I’ll be fine, you, erm, won’t have to live without me much longer,” Remus tried to volley back, just a few seconds too late, tongue feeling heavy at being found out.
If his best mates could see through him that quickly, then you probably already had. He had half a mind to take you up to the Astronomy Tower like old times, so he could apologise and then jump off as an act of redemption.
Sirius gave his shoulder a rough squeeze, shaking him a little as if he knew what was going through his mind. “Fantastic. Then you’ll join us for our free periods, yeah? And the party later tonight?”
Still somewhat sputtering, Remus’ eyes widened to an extent he was sure was comedic. “The pa– the party?”
James smiled at him. “Yeah, Moons. Gryffindor half-term party? That we have talked about all week?”
“Merlin, maybe Pomfrey needs to go easy on the potions she gives you,” Sirius teased, getting up to finish changing.
“Or she could give me more,” Remus whispered hopefully, earning him a round of chuckles. 
“You’ll be fine, Rem,” James said, with an undertone Remus did not care for. “If you’re still feeling… off throughout the day and night, you can always snuggle up with a book and ignore us hooligans.” Then, almost as if he was testing the waters. “I’m sure Y/N would love to join you.”
Remus didn’t deign any of that with a response, but he suddenly thought he should get out of his bed so his face didn’t seem so red in contrast with the white sheets.
“I have some essays to knock out, so yeah, I’ll join you to study,” Remus relented. He opened his own trunk to get changed, but decided to half-ass it and just take off his tie and replace his uniform wool with one of his own patterned jumpers.
“And for the party later!” Sirius corrected, ensuring Remus didn’t think he could back out.
“Sure, sure.” He ruffled his own hair so it was Remus-messy and not Sirius-messed-up-my-hair-messy. “Let’s just go.”
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Considering the extent to which he could fuck this up for himself, Remus reckoned he had been doing fairly good keeping his shit together throughout the day.
If he mentally cursed more than normal, contemplated the murder of each one of his friends including himself and generally couldn’t breathe, well, that was merely part of it.
The whole lot had shacked up in the library for the triple free periods you had back to back on Fridays. While you doted concernedly over him for the first thirty minutes, you eased up once you seemed to decide that this wasn’t Remus shoving down some lycanthropy-struggles and avoiding support and help. 
As always, the two of you sat in the love seat, your legs sprawled over his lap as you read through your textbooks in the oddest positions. This was usually something he might chide you for – “your neck will hurt if you hang over the edge like that, love” – but today he buried his face into his textbooks with all his might to not seem like he was aware of your body. He was, of course, you burned over his skin and lit up his heart, and Circe’s tits was he the stupidest sod in the whole castle.
Nonetheless, he made it through all three hours, engaging in comforting banter and low laughs with his best mates. When you teamed up with him to mess with Sirius, he at least knew that you weren’t upset with him in any way, even though he was being a lunatic today, even though he most definitely would have deserved it.
What Remus knew would be his breaking point was the Gryffindor party.
It was a laid back event, a party thrown for all of Gryffindor, though it was mostly the upper years who were encouraged to attend. They arranged it halfway through every term to celebrate making it through and engaging with each other. Meaning, most people didn’t get shitfaced but there was some good bubbling energy maintained throughout the whole night.
You and Remus had a tradition for how you dealt with parties – just as you had a tradition for pretty much everything, he had come to notice. Gods, he lov– Stop it.
Neither one of you were necessarily fond of large crowds, but you both were incredibly loyal and fond of your friends and wanted to spend time with them. Thus, you attended the parties, but you always did so together. The more uncomfortable you got, the closer you would get to each other, and if one ever needed a break, they would tap the other three times and they would make up an excuse to usher them out of there.
It had never felt so unnerving to be so known.
Throughout the whole party he had been jittery, head rushing with thoughts. He desperately tried not to take in your outfit and then he desperately tried not to read into it when you seemed disappointed he didn’t compliment you for it like he usually did. Why did he have to be such a sweet best friend normally? Remus can’t keep up with himself.
It did not help him in the slightest that others around the party seemed to focus on your outfit much more openly than he could dare. It made him gravitate even closer to you, tighten his hand on his hip, momentarily rest his chin on the top of your head – and then his actions made him want to kick himself. Possessiveness was the last thing he could be engaging with when he was already betraying you in such a manner. 
Leave it to Remus to fuck up something beautiful.
To say you didn’t seem to notice that he was troubled would be taking it too far, but at least you didn’t seem to notice why. You kept him close to your side and would at random points stroke his back soothingly. He wondered if you just thought he was uncomfortable with the party.
You were chatting with Pandora by the drinks table when Barty and Evan strolled up to you both with cheshire cat grins.
“There he is, back on his leash,” Junior said through a menacing laugh, ignoring Evan’s slight elbow to his side. “Feeling better, darling?”
“What brings you to the lions' den, Junior?” Remus asked carefully to divert the topic.
“Well. Y/N’s going so Pandora’s going so Evan’s going, and thus–” he did a small flourishing spin “– I’m going.”
“You’re impossible,” Evan murmured, while Pandora just smiled happily. 
“Is he feeling better, then?” Barty asked once more, this time looking at you.
“No, actually,” you said with a small smile Remus knew not to be genuine. “He is absolutely devastated you’re not in the Slytherin common room right now. He had big plans for you there, you know.”
Remus tried to choke down his laugh as Barty looked torn between glee and irritation. Somehow he made both work. “Sorry to soil your plans then, Lupin. Better luck next time.”
Then he stalked off in almost a hurry and Remus couldn’t help but hope he was going to Slytherin to check if you were telling the truth. 
He looked down at where you were standing beside him and squeezed your shoulder lightly. “You really are a minx,” he whispered conspiratorially.
That turned out to be his undoing. You turned your head to the side to look up at him with mirth playing around in your enamouring eyes, a soft tilt to the corner of your mouth. And your face was oh so painfully close to his.
Remus became acutely aware that he could easily lean in and catch your smile with his. That the air he was breathing had been close to you in some of the only ways he had not yet. That he must look like your boyfriend when you’re standing essentially pressed up against each other like this.
That he most certainly has been looking at your lips for far too long.
When he flicks his gaze back up, he sees a slight furrow between your brows again as you seem to take in his reaction, and suddenly he goes from having butterflies in his stomach to needing to throw them all up. He took a sudden staggering step backwards, almost crashing into James who was engaging in some animated discussion with Marlene.
“I, uh,” Remus said and dear Godrick he was stammering. “I’ll get us some drinks and we can sit down, yeah?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, instead spinning his back to you and hoping you pick up conversation with Pandora again.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t be a bloody arse.
He hoped he had steadied himself enough by the time he plopped down in his favourite grandfather chair near the fire. He placed both of your drinks on the table in front of him, vowing to touch his as minimally as possible to make sure he keeps whatever wits he has left with him.
A dumb smile takes over his face as his breathing quickens when he sees you make your way over to the seating area, after having listened to his desperate silent plea and finished your conversation with Pandora. Pushing his luck, he shoots another silent prayer that it will be smooth sailing from here, which is apparently promptly ignored as you happily sit down in his lap.
Fuck.
This, he reminds himself, is also normal for the two of you. Especially at parties, especially if you have reason to believe he is unsteady in any sense of the word, which he most certainly has given you plenty of reason to believe. 
You give him some form of greeting he can’t quite catch and isn’t sure if he reciprocated as you settle down, putting majority of your weight on his right thigh as you lean your body sideways against his. One of your arms snuck around his shoulders, fingers winding up playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, while the other is stabilising yourself on his knee. Majority of your close friends had followed your lead by sitting down in the small gathering, chattering amongst themselves. He was half-aware that you were rambling on about something to him, something he probably really wanted to listen to, but it felt like his head was underwater.
Unsure of what else to do, he lowered his face into your shoulder and took deep breaths there.
You seemed wholly unbothered, fingers continuing in his hair as your soothing voice carried him through what he feared might become a panic attack. He was almost there, when the cocoon you two had in your chair was burst by the presence of your other friends.
“You alright there, Moons? You’re not going to go all vampire on poor Y/N?” Sirius’ tone was lighthearted and teasing, but Remus felt as if he might actually die.
“Oh, he’s quite alright,” you answered for him with a smile before he could embarrass himself, immediately switching over to engage in conversation with the friends sitting closest to you. Your hand on his knee squeezed reassuringly.
Fuck, how could he not love you?
He loved you.
Remus almost had to fight crying as he hid in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by his own emotions and the surely watchful gazes of those around him – the latter of which was why he couldn’t. 
With a deep breath he let his desire win for just one second and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before emerging from his hiding place. He shifted you carefully to be more comfortable, so that your back was against him and he could rest his head on the shoulder he just kissed.
He did fairly good, partaking in conversation, engaging with the others, albeit more quietly and less than usual. He laughed and he smiled and you were so soft against him, as if you had melted. Remus was in heaven while being tortured.
Marlene wolf whistled quietly from where she was sat on the floor, eyeing Remus with mirth. Though he still did not know why, he was already turning red, the tips of his ears burning.
“Hi, Remmy.” He heard the soft voice say beside him and he turned his head to see Emmeline giving him a somewhat sly smile. “The dance floor’s picking up. Want to go for another round?”
Remus’ stomach churned. Emmeline was such a sweet girl and he never could say no to her, the only thing that felt worse than the embarrassment from his friends’ teasing was the thought of embarrassing her – though Remus was sure even thinking like that made him into an even bigger arse.
Sirius and James had told him multiple times that he could say no. As had you, reminding him how important it was to have boundaries, even while you were sitting practically on top of him at the time. He just could never bring himself to.
Yet his mouth seemed to move on its own accord before he could think, arms tightening around you. “No, not tonight Emmeline, sorry. Knock yourself out, though.” He tried to give her a warm smile, but his movements seemed to be outside of his control at the moment, breath sucked from his lungs.
He realised with a sting that he should have given her more credit all along when she beams back at him. “No worries, enjoy your night!” she cheered before twirling towards the dance floor herself.
Remus let out a shaky breath and turned to his friends who were almost staring him down. James’ mouth was even open in shock, which he thought was a bit dramatic.
“Hold on, what just happened?” Sirius guffawed. “Has our little Moony learned to say no?”
Remus flushed even further. “Shut up, Pads.”
“Don’t think I will,” his mate replied with a wolfish grin turning to look to the others for support. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“What’s inspired this change in you?” Mary asked thoughtfully, propping her head into her hands as if she was settling in for a lengthy response.
All eyes were back on Remus and he felt like the mask he had been clinging to all day was crumbling. The nerves that shot through him like lightning now was not his usual humiliation from being in a charged spotlight – no, this was fear. Genuine fear that if he didn’t get his head screwed back on within two seconds, he might say something too revealing, or his face would do it without him having to open his mouth. That his fiery ears would somehow spell out I am in love with my very best friend and I realised it too late and am making it everybody else’s problem. He had no idea what to do.
In his time of despair, with Mary’s big eyes staring up at him, Marlene and Lily already snickering between them and Sirius raising an expecting brow, his instincts knew of only one way out.
His finger on your hip lifted. Tap, tap, tap.
Almost as if a switch had gone off, you made a soft gasp and turned to look at him in his lap. “Gods, Rem, speaking of Emmeline, I totally forgot our gift for Sirius in my dorm room in Ravenclaw!” you exclaimed, putting your all into the act. Your excuse seemed to be a good one as Sirius’ head immediately picked up, not unlike that of a dog’s if you said the word ‘treat’ around them. “We have to go get it before the party’s over.”
You elegantly hopped up and out of his lap, dragging him behind him with a grip on his elbow. Remus stumbled and scrambled behind you, tossing a sorry don’t know what that’s about look to the others over his shoulder. He barely caught sight of what he could only classify as a knowing exchange of smiles between James and Lily.
Before he could truly process your rescue mission, he was standing outside in the cool hallway breathing heavily, portrait closed behind him. 
Before him, you stood with your hands on your hips, scanning his face thoroughly, making him almost cower beneath your gaze. You seemed to make up your mind about something as you took his hand once more and walked with him down the hall in silence, rounding the corners until you reached one of the deep windowsills, the kind the two of you would always sit in and read. 
You jumped to lift yourself into it and once you were sat with one hand on each side of your body, you levelled him with a look.
“Okay, spill,” you said, directly but not unkindly. “What is going on with you?”
Remus did not think this through. He needed help and so he called upon you for it like he always does, not thinking to consider that that might very well make this worse for him.
“It’s…” he began, picking at straws in his mind for an excuse. “It’s nothing, dove. Really.” 
“When’s my birthday?” you asked then, to his surprise. He furrowed his brows at you and told you the date. You smiled a bit smugly. “Exactly. So you know I wasn’t born yesterday.”
He genuinely laughed at that, even if it was at his expense. He let his body do as it wished and took a small step closer to you. Not enough for your bodies to touch, but enough to feel like he was in your space. Safe, even in his panic.
“Remus,” you said softly, painfully gently. You rarely used his first name, and now when you did, it was laced with an undertone he couldn’t stomach. It was beginning to sound a bit like hurt. “What is going on with you? Why… why are you acting this way towards me?”
Because you are the one thing I have never had to question and now I’m questioning everything. Because I’m a bloody prick who has one dream and ruins his life over it. Because my mind is running a mile a minute and your lips feel like magnets and I swear I am losing control in a way I only do during full moons.
“I don’t know what to do,” he ended up whimpering quietly, cowardly.
You looked around the hallway as if the answer would be written on any of the walls and moved your arms slightly to gesture around you. “About what? I can’t help you unless I know what it is, cariad.”
He scrunched his face for a moment, looking away from you. “Can we not do this? It’s nothing you can fix, dove.”
You seemed to grow even more confused at that, almost frustrated. “Why not?” He realised then that the two of you had always helped each other through everything. Being locked out must hurt. He wanted to kick himself, but he didn't know what else to do. “What’s wrong, Remus, please I just–”
Remus is besieged by the power of someone much more reckless, driven by desire to alleviate you of your confusion and him of his pain.
He cut you off with a kiss.
He took a large stride forward to slot himself in between your thighs, eliminating the space between you within a second, bringing both hands up to cup the sides of your face and bring it towards him. His eyes were shut tightly, furrow in his brows as his lips all but smashed against yours in a kiss that felt sacrificially sacred. Your lips are just as soft as in his dream, as is the small gasp that escapes you as you tense in his grasp.
Remus has never felt better and he has never felt worse.
The kiss lasts for about 10 seconds before he pulls away in even more of a flurry. His hands lost their grip on you first, hovering over your cheeks briefly, as if considering going back in before thinking better of it. He still had you captured in the kiss, hanging on to it for as long as he could deign himself, knowing it was his last opportunity to do so, all the while kicking himself over it.
Backing away, he put double the distance between you. He felt drunk, stumbling slightly as he all but scrambled away, a stinging sensation behind his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, I don't know why I did that. I didn’t mean to,” he breathed out, reeling at his own impulsivity. “That,” he said through a shaking voice as he looked anywhere but your face, “is my problem, and Y/N, I am so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
For the shortest second, he lets his eyes flicker quickly over your face before rushing back to stare at a statue on the wall beside you. Your face was blank, eyes wide. Your fingers were barely touching the lips he had just enclosed in his own.
You must be disgusted. You must be horrified. You must feel violated and Remus wanted nothing more than to disappear from the face of the earth and rid you of this undying problem.
He was every bit the beast you had tried to convince him he wasn’t.
“Why…” you began, voice but a whisper, before you trailed off.
Remus had to shut his eyes at that, tilting his head slightly to the side. If he breathed through his nose, he might not cry. He was sitting before the highest court he knew, and you were about to ask him to explain himself.
“Why are you sorry?”
The words floored him a little, enough to make his eyes snap open and land back on your face. You looked deeply concerned, brows tilted upwards as you seemed to take his face in. “Remus,” you whispered now that you finally had his eyes on you. “Why are you sorry?”
He shook his head in confusion, feeling every bit like the boy he was. ���I shouldn’t have done that.” It was all he could get out through his hoarse voice. He also had no idea how to answer that question in a satisfactory way.
You took in a short sharp breath and then lowered yourself onto the ground to stand before him. With your hands held out in front of you, almost as if you were ready to lunge out and catch him if he was to run – an idea that was becoming increasingly enticing to him – you took a small step towards him. “Why?” There was a growing spark in your eye, dimmed only by your worried frown.
“Y/N.” He didn’t know what else to say, eyes trained on you.
“Cariad,” you replied in the same tone, and a tear slipped down his left cheek. You took another measured step towards him, enough to reach out for him if you wanted to – but of course, you wouldn’t want to, not anymore. “It’s alright.”
He felt dizzy at the lack of the scolding or disgust he had braced himself for, realising how stupid he was for even fearing that from you. No, you would reject him sweetly and kindly, and his heart would never be mended from it. That felt worse, somehow.
“It’s not,” he whispered. “Please don’t say it is.”
You smiled ruefully and took another small step towards him. He could feel the warmth eminating from you. Tentatively, you reached up a hand to wipe at the tear still sitting on his left cheek. He held his breath and fought the urge to lean into your touch, but when you pressed your palm more firmly against his cheek, he couldn’t anymore. A soft sigh escaped him and he let his eyes fall shut as your touch supported him. “It is, my sweet boy,” you whispered with an urgency that almost convinced him. “Remus, can you answer me honestly?”
His body tensed once more as his eyes fluttered open to find yours, reverent. Most parts of him were still screaming at him to run away, to shut up, to do anything but this. His heart seemed to be in charge for the moment, though, and he nodded slowly. Trusting you with his world even as he felt like a traitor in yours.
“All this, today… has it been because you have realised you’re… in love with me?” You seemed to be piecing it together as you said the words out loud, eyes carefully searching his face for his reaction.
Another tear slipped down his cheek, and you quickly caught it with your other thumb, both hands now cradling his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said once more.
“You’re not allowed to be,” you whispered, giving him a half-smile, almost as if you were indulging him in a secret of yours. “Please answer the question?”
It was now or never. “Yes.”
To his utter surprise and deep-seated confusion, the smile on your face grew genuine, settling into the one he always searched for. He almost opened his mouth to question it before he was cut off.
No words can describe the sensations that bloomed in his chest, the butterflies that flitted in his stomach, when you used your hands on his face as leverage to pull him towards you for another kiss.
You kissed him. You kissed him. You were kissing.
His mind was threatening to take off like a rocket and captiulate, but his hands had never been more steady as they circled around your waist, splaying out over the small of your back as he dragged you closer. You sighed against him, smile still evident over your lips, and Remus dared – like the bastard he was – to mirror it. 
You were warm against him, but wholly different than you had been in his dream. This felt distinctly real. And just as right.
When you pulled away, your hands had migrated to the back of his neck and you kept your forehead leaned against his. “Good,” you murmured with your eyes still closed. “Because the feeling is mutual.”
He almost reared his head away from you, but managed to only pull back a few centimetres to stare at you in awe. Remus opened his mouth, but no words came out; he could find none intelligent enough to verbalise how utterly gobsmacked he felt.
You seemed to understand him just as well, going by your breathy laugh. There was still that spark in your eye, now shining brightly in the absence of your worry. Had the worry been for him?
“I know I don’t say this enough, but you really are quite an idiot, aren’t you?” you laughed and he slowly felt his heart start beating again.
“Spent too much time with Sirius and James, clearly,” he muttered, half expecting the joke to land flat and you to remember how disgusting he was. Instead, your laugh intensified and you leaned your body further against his. It emboldened him to ask, “What do you mean the feeling is mutual, dove?”
You let your arms glide further up, crossing behind his neck and over his shoulder, bringing him impossibly closer. “Remus John Lupin,” you whispered sincerely. “I am madly in love with you. Romantically. Genuinely. Any thoughts you have that explain that away are false and you mustn't listen to them. I thought you knew by now that I’m always right.”
Even as the grin involuntarily established itself on his face, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. He looked at your face, truly studied it, and he could feel his mind ever so slowly calm down. “You are.”
“What am I?” You were testing him, and he allowed it wholeheartedly.
“Right,” he confirmed. Albeit a bit more hesitantly, he knew better than not to add, “and… in love with me?”
“Two points to Gryffindor.” You reached up to give his lips a soft peck. It felt so natural, like it was already habit for you. He desperately wanted it to be.
“I’m sorry, I’m still reeling from this, dovey,” he confessed, trying to process everything.
There had never been any judgement to be found in your face. “Which parts are you struggling with the most?” 
Your eyes were full of understanding, your face scrunched up in concentration. Remus indulged himself in an old habit by reaching up with one hand to thumb the furrows away. It made you smile just like he wanted it to, and gave him a minute to think. “I don’t understand how I didn’t get it before now. I don’t understand how or why you put up with me. I don’t understand how to keep all these feelings inside such a small heart.”
Your hands were stroking his back carefully as you considered his words. “Well, firstly I would argue your heart isn’t small at all, though I get what you mean. You’re not meant to keep all the feelings inside, you know? That’s when you get all sputtery and jittery and start avoiding your best friends.” You gave him a pointed look and he almost shied under your glance. “Sharing them before you bubble over is always a good thing. We’ll work on it together. As for why I put up with you; I don’t. There’s nothing to put up with, I just enjoy you like we always have.”
Your eyes had trailed off into the distance as you thought, but you brought them back to him with a small smile as you added the final part. “I don’t know what did make you realise, so I can’t help you much there. All I can say is, sometimes we don’t see what is right in front of us.”
Remus nodded along to your words, feeling peace spreading within in that manner only you could inspire in him. He truly was an idiot, wasn’t he? “How long have you known?” he asked then, curiously.
“About you or me?”
“Both?” His smile was becoming closer to his standard sheepish one, and you seemed to preen at the sight.
You bobbed your head side to side as you considered. “It’s hard to pinpoint an exact date – it wasn’t an overnight discovery you know?” Remus did in fact not know nor relate. “But I realised we were in love, not either one’s feelings. It just sat calmly within me.”
“You mean you didn’t freak out to the extent where all students and professors alike were worried about you?”
He grinned at the small giggle that drew from you as you decidedly said, “No. Definitely not.” You studied him for a minute more. “I think I realised about five months ago, but I didn’t feel any real need to rush anything. It felt less like being given a to-do list and more like being revealed the plot twist in a movie before it happens, if you understand? The two best friends get together in the end, don’t tell anyone.”
He ducked his head at that. While he could not relate, your explanation and experience was so wholeheartedly you that it endeared him to no end. “Does that mean we should just ignore it for five more months or…?” His grin turned cheeky as you lightly swatted his shoulder.
“Nah,” you chuckled. “I reckon we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”
He sighed with a smile. “Yeah.”
You both leaned forward at the same time, as if to seal the deal with a kiss. Remus could feel it like electricity in the tips of his fingers, and he understood what you meant about knowing. Now that he was no longer in a constant state of panic, he felt incredibly calm about the whole ordeal.
Or maybe that’s just how he feels around you.
“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.
Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”
“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.
Like he had so many times before, he tightened his arms around your waist and twirled you around in a few circles, legs flying out behind you. Except this time, your giggles were not hidden in his neck but pressed against his lips, and he tried to capture as many kisses as possible while he spun you.
When you landed with a breathless giggle, he kept one arm firmly around your waist as the two of you slowly made your way back to the Gryffindor common room. He wondered if maybe he could grab some blankets and bring you up to the Astronomy Tower so you could be alone without his friends’ meddling. Yet, he wanted to see them as well, ready to volley back any quips about “took you long enough” and “I fucking called it”. Plus, you argued that you should prove that he was in fact alive and sane.
When he walked the halls back to the Gryffindor common room with your body against his, everything felt right. When you entered together, and everyone read what had happened written clearly across your faces, resorting to their usual hoots and hollers, arguably louder than ever before, it never stopped feeling right. 
Remus being Remus, flushed deeply and averted his gaze, as he would continue doing under any uncalled for attention – but your arms squeezing him around the middle brought him right back down and your kiss to his shoulder soothed the burn of their gazes.
“What’s my gift then?” Sirius later asked salaciously as he eyed you two up and down where you cuddled together right back in the same chair, as if nothing changed. Maybe nothing really did.
You grinned widely and cleared your throat. “I honourably present to you,” you said and opened your arms towards Remus with a flourish. “A Moony who is no longer mooning.”
The little group erupted in even more cheers, celebrating the massive feat of taming their brooding boy. Remus couldn’t help but laugh along, even at his own expense. His cheeks were red but it was equally due to the exertion of laughing as it was a tinge of embarrassment. When he hid his face into the crook of your neck again, he didn’t feel nearly as guilty when he pressed a few kisses to the bare skin he found there – even less so when you melted against him with a sigh.
It felt as if a permanent smile had been sown onto his face where he sat, more content than he believed he had been while inside this castle.
Despite Remus Lupin’s disdain for public displays of affection, he had held you publicly many times before this. They all paled in comparison to the feeling of you in his arms now. 
It had always been significant to him in its casualty, just as you have always been significant to him long before he had the mind to put the feeling into words. He will always treasure every moment of your existence in his orbit. Yet the way you melted into his skin now, growing roots in each one of his aching bones – no, nothing could compare to it.
Yes, Remus Lupin ailed from public displays of affection. But you were his cure.
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forgetmenottss · 3 days ago
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Tulips  Review
“ It was Sirius who had started it, not in an attempt to replace what you had with Remus, but to remind you that he was there for you.”
—Tulips by Elina ( @amiableness ) is quite literally one of my favorite pieces for Sirius Black. Before being a one shot this fic was a series which is how I knew it as. To me it was the Tulips series which means warmth home and is the first fic I reach for when it starts getting colder, rainy and wicked outside. It means so much to me, so much more than words can provide.
As a certified James girl I can’t begin to tell you how this fic melts me every single time. I read this fic and am instantly grazed with a smile. I can’t begin to express how loving and comforting this fic is to me. I think I read this fic for the first time in February? Maybe March? Point is I read it towards the beginning of the year. Tulips were growing. I know that.  I then reread it closer to August because like I said when the weather gets colder it means it’s time to read this fic again. Not to mention that I am quite literally in love with tulips, the flower because they’re my favorites. But this fic is forever and always one that I will recommend. 
“You hardly comprehended the story, too focused on Sirius’ voice and his gentle touch. It was the first time in weeks that you hadn’t thought of Remus.”
➳ Y/n L/n:
Y/n. Y/n oh my lord. I cannot express how this is a beautiful example of how to write yet another y/n that actually feels like a human? In the fic Y/n is well in love with Remus. I can’t blame her because well same. But Remus doesn’t love her and well Y/n is left with having to watch Remus be in love with someone else. When I tell you that I felt so seen in the way that was written? Don’t even get me started. In the fic you can see the battle that Y/n has with those feelings and let me just say it is so incredibly well written because it actually represents how it is to have those feelings for someone who doesn’t return them. 
— The way that Y/n was written was so comforting. I’m going to get slightly personal so, hold please. Y/n was written as someone who was facing a heartbreak. Whether Elina made it intentional or didn’t even write it to have it be heartbreak that’s what the feelings were for me. But I’ll save that story for later. As I was saying, Y/n was given so much life and given such a level of connection that it made it so easy to get sucked into the world that was the Tulipsverse.
➳ Sirius Black:
「 “Sirius' concerned face as it comes into view. "What can I do? What do you need?" he asks, his tone brimming with genuine concern and care” 」
Guys. Where the hell do you want me to start? How dare I make myself choose? So, Sirius Black to me traditionally never appealed to my taste for reading about him. I didn’t really understand why everyone was obsessed with him. I didn’t see what the big deal was. Then I read Elina’s Sirius. Then I understood. Sirius in Tulips is what I imagine the boy you’ve secretly been in love with but too scared to admit to yourself to be like. And in a really really watered down way that’s kinda what it was. Sirius black (Elina’s version) will forever be the sweetest Sirius I have had the pleasure of meeting. Elina wrote Sirius with such care it’s almost as if she had him sit down with her and write it bit by bit how he fell in love with you.  Much like most writers Elina wrote Sirius with such care it’s scary how real he seems. It’s as if he’s right there with you as you’re reading this wonderful piece of work. It’s amazing. 
““Kiss the person you are most attracted to in this room.” Your stomach sinks like a stone, regretting your lack of resistance to James. ”
꒰ Sirius + Y/n: ꒱
Now it’s time to dissect the relationship. Ok when I tell you that when I read that scene, I was trying not to wake the whole house up? I’m not kidding. I literally could not stop myself from screaming as the scene went on. If you’ve read it you know what I’m talking about. But the relationship that Y/n and Sirius have? It is so incredibly beautiful. Like I said I didn’t have any interest in Sirius romantically but when you read Elina’s writing? You aren’t given much of a choice. Sirius was written in such a manner I was crying at the end because he wasn’t real. But this is deeper than that. Have you guys seen My Girl? Hear me out. Y/n and Sirius remind me of them. Because spoilers if you haven’t seen the film. Thomas dies right? Because he went to get something for Vada?  Okay so Sirius is Thomas. Sirius in this fic quite literally did anything he could to help the reader. And when I tell you that it’s squeal worthy when you read it? Be ready to have to muffle those squeals at three am because Elina provides you with the perfect amount of fluff and angst that it actually drives you crazy. The relationship that these two have is so unique and so captivating that you find yourself wanting more and craving the way they both love each other. No matter how much they deny it. Another couple that they remind me of is the relationship Barbie has with the tutor guy from princess and the pauper? Like he was so in love with her and she didn’t realise it until much later? Yeah that mirrors how Y/n and Sirius are in this fic and I am living for it. It’s so alluring and makes you want to immerse yourself in the story. I love it. 
”“You’re the only one I thought of.” You admit softly, hoping you don’t sound nearly as wrecked as you feel”
— The quote above is one that had(s) me reeling. When I first read it I was quite frankly stuffing my face into my pillow screaming. I remember reading that scene and looking up at the ceiling asking “what are we” to the air. But now it’s time to dissect that scene. No I’m kidding now it's time for the love letter to this fic. Tulips as I’ve so eloquently have written is a fic that I hold so near and dear to my heart because it helped me get over a stupid british boy. Regardless if I had been heartbroken when I read this fic or not I know I would fall in love with it again. If you hand me this fic and I happened to have lost my memory I know I would be as in love with it then as I am now. Tulips is an amazing work of art that makes you feel like you’re actually experiencing these things. It’s as if you’re right there and actually living through the scenes because it’s so beautifully written. Elina, your writing brings me and I’m sure many others so much comfort. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing this with us. Thank you for not second guessing this amazing work of art and not sharing it to the world. If you haven’t already read Tulips do yourself a favor and go read it. Read it with tissues though. It made me cry sometimes but cough drops too because you will scream. Tulips will be one of the best fics that you’ve read I can guarantee even if you don’t think you like Sirius take it from someone who had mild interest in Sirius. You will love it when you read it. Thank you for reading the review!!
To Elina,
        I did try to be as unbiased as I promise you I for the most part I really did try. I don’t know once you read the review (if you do) you’ll be able to tell me if I was bias or not! But I’m not lying to you when I tell you how much this work means to me. When I first read this piece I had just gone through the worst ending of a really intense situationship. Ironically enough he had a girlfriend while we were talking. And he came into my life saying he wanted to talk and to tell me about said girlfriend. So when I accidentally stumbled onto this absolute gem of a fic while reading one night? I stayed up the whole night and read it all the way through. I was screaming into my pillows as I was reading. I thought I knew stress, but then I experienced stress and my actual feelings on paper and I was proven wrong. Elina, I don’t think I say this enough when I tell you how amazing your writing truly is. When I first found this fic I was in shock because I had never once considered I would be this obsessed with Sirius but when I read the first chapter? You had me bewitched. I will say you have a beautiful gift in writing and I am so incredibly honored that you chose to share with the world that gift. But this fic was honestly the beginning for my journey of your writing. I was scrolling through my blog and I had found you asking about dad!james x bsf!reader. I looked at the post for a little and I thought it was familiar and it was, I just didn’t know until I clicked it. I began reading all the works you had linked. I can’t remember if I  interacted but I think I read them all silently and I found myself craving more. Then I made the decision to follow you. I wasn’t that nervous to follow because you deserve people to show you that they love your work. However when I would send you those messages? I was so nervous, I would actually throw my phone when you would respond. But then you followed me back? When I tell you I was actually unresponsive? It was crazy. Because I still can’t wrap my head around how the person who’s fics I go to when I feel like I’m alone, had followed me back. I wasn’t lying when I said your fics still bring me comfort because they like I’ve said before are part of my routine. I am forever grateful to have found your piece because I continuously think about it and find comfort in it. So I’ll leave you with this Elina, your writing is so incredibly beautiful. Even if people are stupid and take your work for granted I want you to know how incredible it is. 
Tulips
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Pairings: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader, Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader
Summary ✿ After finding out Remus Lupin has found himself a girlfriend, a devastated Y/n L/n asks Sirius Black to help her get over him. Except Sirius has feelings for her.
Warnings ✿ Language, unrequited love, angst, kissing, jealousy, reader wearing lipgloss and a dress, mentions of anxiety. If there's more let me know!
Word Count ✿ 20.3k
A/N 💌 This was my first ever series, but I've decided to repost it as a oneshot!
BONUS SMUT
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Your affection for Remus had begun almost from the moment you met him. For nearly five years, you found yourself quietly drawn to him. How could you not be? His tranquil and caring nature had eased your anxieties countless times. His unwavering loyalty to both his friends and his studies never ceased to amaze you. The bravery he exhibited each month, whether he acknowledged it or not, left you in awe. With Remus, you always felt secure, as if nothing could disturb your sense of safety.
Monday nights marked your routine study sessions with Remus, a tradition since the start of sixth year. Arriving promptly at his dorm, you were met with unsettling moans seeping from beneath the door, causing your stomach to plummet. Frozen in shock, you raced through possible explanations, with Sirius seeming the most plausible culprit. Surely, Remus wouldn't forget your study night, and the thought of another girl seemed inconceivable. As you turned around, anxiety coursing through your veins, you collided with Sirius, tears welling up in your eyes.
"Please tell me it’s James in there." You pleaded, the desperation clear in both your tone and your expression, causing Sirius' heart to sink. Knowing James was at practice, he couldn't bring himself to shatter your hope. Instead, he grasped your hand firmly and practically pulled you towards your dormitory. Despite the chaos of emotions, Sirius made sure to shield you with his own body, warding off any prying eyes curious about the tears streaming down your cheeks.
"Are any of your roommates here?" Sirius inquired as he halted in front of your dormitory door.
"No, Lily is staying the night at your dorm with James, and I think Marlene is staying with Dorcas." You responded, your voice tinged with sadness as you used your sleeve to dab at the tears staining your cheeks. Leading the way inside, you guided Sirius into your room, where he realized it was his first time seeing your personal space. Until now, you and Remus had been inseparable, leaving no room for Sirius to spend time alone with you.
He found himself a tad nervous, the proximity to you unnerving him in the best possible way. As he stood in your dormitory, the faint scent of your favorite perfume lingering in the air, Sirius couldn't help but feel a flutter in his stomach. It was an unfamiliar sensation, being so close to you without the familiar presence of Remus nearby.
"It wasn’t James and Lily in there, was it?" Sirius turned to you, his expression filled with concern as he observed you sitting on your bed, visibly holding back tears, awaiting his response.
"No, angel." He replied softly, his voice tinged with empathy as he moved to sit beside you. A sigh escaped his lips as he settled onto your bed. Sirius knew James's schedule all too well, and he was certain that James was still down at the Quidditch pitch, far from the dorm.
Everything about your side of the room was perfectly you. Your desk was adorned with stacks of books, polaroids capturing cherished memories with friends pinned to the wall, and one of Remus’ sweaters casually draped over the back of your chair. Yet, amidst the familiar sights, a small glass vase seized his attention. Within it, a single red tulip, a gift he had given you a few weeks earlier.
As he strolled around Black Lake with the boys, he stumbled upon the patch of flowers, and instantly, he knew it was meant for you. Knowing how much you adored flowers, often doodling them in the margins of your Potions notes while seated beside him, he couldn't resist picking it. James, catching sight of the flower, declared that Lily deserved an entire bouquet. 
You weren’t taken aback when James Potter interrupted your study session with Lily by presenting her with a stunning bouquet of flowers. However, what did catch you off guard was Sirius' gesture: placing a single red flower delicately on top of your open book and sending you a playful wink.
"​M’lady." He had murmured, and at that moment, your cheeks ignited with a warmth you had never felt before.
Lily filled the remainder of your study session with talk of how a red tulip symbolized a declaration of love while you simply laughed in response.
Sirius glanced over at you, noticing the tear-filled gaze fixed upon your hands as you sat on the bed. He hesitated, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "I didn’t know you had feelings for him." he finally admitted, his tone tinged with surprise.
You offered a soft laugh tinged with a hint of sadness. "I guess that means I’m good at hiding it then. It’s been a good couple of years now. Probably started the very first day I met him, honestly," you confessed, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips.
"I’m sorry, angel." Sirius expressed, his voice laced with genuine remorse.
A gentle shake of your head followed. "You don’t have to be sorry," you reassured him, your voice carrying a tone of acceptance intertwined with a hint of resignation.
"I could’ve given you a heads up," Sirius grimaced as your head whipped up to look over at him, the gravity of his words sinking in. "He’s been seeing this girl for weeks. He’s going to ask her out soon."
"Sirius-" you began, your voice carrying a mixture of surprise and concern.
"I’m telling you this not to be mean, but so you’re not blindsided when it happens." Sirius continued his tone earnest yet tinged with regret.
This time, you remained silent, your gaze drifting over to the polaroid displayed prominently on your bedside table. In the photo, you and Remus sat beneath a tree, his arm wrapped around you in a protective embrace while your head rested gently on his shoulder. The memory of that day flooded back — discussing a book, laughter filling the air, and Lily insisting on capturing the moment in a photograph. 
At the end of the day, with a knowing smile, she handed you the polaroid. The setting sun cast a beautiful glow upon the photo when you held it in your hand.
"C’mere," Sirius demanded softly, his voice a gentle command meant to pull you away from the intensity of the picture. He positioned himself against the headboard, arms open wide for you to find solace in. Without hesitation, you crawled into his embrace, nestling against his side. His arms enveloped you, offering comfort and warmth as he planted a tender kiss atop your head.
"What can I do?" Sirius inquired quietly, his gaze fixed on the tears tracing down your cheeks and staining his shirt.
"Help me get over him. Please." You pleaded, the vulnerability in your voice bared as you sought comfort and support from him.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
"Where the hell have you been? You nearly missed breakfast!" James exclaimed, his eyes scanning over your disheveled appearance—your hair in disarray and your clothes creased. It was a rare sight to see you, typically impeccably put together and five minutes ahead of everyone else, arriving late and looking rumpled. He chose not to mention the dark circles under your eyes or the absence of your usual cheery smile. He knew better than to bring that up.
Upon sensing Remus's scrutinizing gaze, you cleared your throat nervously and averted your eyes, unwilling to let him figure out that he was the cause of your disheveled appearance.
“Rough night.” That was simply put. In fact, last night had been incredibly rough, leaving you worse for wear this dreary morning. Cuddling with Sirius comforted you for so long before you were back to crying your heart out. He was kind enough to hold you the entire time, and eventually, you had both fallen asleep. There had been no discussion on what you meant last night about having him help you get over Remus. You didn’t know what you had meant by it either.
You grimaced as the memory flooded back, choosing to sit beside Sirius instead. He wouldn’t admit it in front of the boys, but he was well prepared to knock one of them over if they tried to sit next to him. After the trying night you'd endured, he made it a point to ensure you felt at ease and understood that he was there for you should you need anything. Normally, you occupied the seat next to Remus, with Sirius seated beside James and Peter. However, given the circumstances, he understood that you wouldn't feel comfortable sitting next to Remus that morning.
James' gaze darted between the two of you, noting the departure from your usual seating arrangement. He stole a quick glance at Remus, who seemed intent on studying you. "Hmm. Why is it that Sirius has been quiet all breakfast, and now you are too?" he quipped, breaking the silence.
"Sod off, mate." Sirius grumbled, pushing a steaming cup of tea toward you. Despite the gruff remark, he offered you a sweet smile before returning his attention to his meal. Even though the gesture was minimal, it made you want to burst into tears. The fact that he remembered your favorite tea and how you liked it meant more to you than words could express. Remus, however, frowned at the cup of tea sitting in front of you, his expression troubled.
“What? I can’t make conversation this beautiful morning?” James’s tone was still incredibly upbeat, unlike those around him. Peter hummed in agreement, his mouth full of cereal and unable to respond properly.
"It's storming." Remus mumbled, his gaze still fixed on you, sensing that something was amiss as you avoided meeting his eyes. Usually, you sat next to him, cheerily chatting about another book you had read together.
"Are you implying a storm isn't beautiful? Because I happen to think-"
"James, let's just have a quiet breakfast this Tuesday morning." Sirius interjected, surprising James with the interruption. James opened his mouth to protest, but the seriousness in Sirius's expression halted him mid-sentence. Sirius's deliberate interruption was aimed at signaling to Remus that he had missed your study night. It served its purpose, prompting Remus to acknowledge the missed study date.
"Oh, fuck. Y/n, I’m so sorry! Last night, our study night, I totally forgot," Remus blurted out, his words rushed and filled with regret as he watched your reaction. You simply shrugged and sipped your tea, avoiding direct eye contact with him. You kept your gaze fixed on your plate, knowing that meeting Remus's eyes would likely trigger another wave of tears.
"No big deal." You replied casually.
"Uh," Remus furrowed his eyebrows, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion as he searched your face for any sign of distress. However, your demeanor remained inscrutable, your face a mask of blankness. "Are you sure? I know you really wanted to study this week with your exam coming up-"
You finally met Remus's gaze, sitting up a bit straighter, "I was able to study, Remus, it's fine."
"You were? But uh-" Remus scrambled for words, uncertain how to navigate this tense exchange. He couldn't recall a time when you sounded so curt with him before.
"Sirius helped me." You interjected, your voice steady but tinged with an underlying tension.
James sputtered out a laugh, his gaze darting between you and Sirius. "He helped you study? Willingly?"
In reality, studying hadn't been the main agenda of the night. Before drifting off to sleep, you had hastily handed Sirius your flashcards from the nightstand, however, your pounding headache from crying rendered you unable to focus properly during his quizzing. So, technically, he did help you study, albeit minimally.
Peter raised his eyebrows, his tone laced with curiosity, "Is that where you were all last night? Studying?"
You squirmed uneasily at Peter's implication. Sirius shot James and Peter a sharp glance, silently urging them to stop talking.
Remus's lips parted in surprise as he shifted his gaze from Sirius to you. "He stayed the night with you?" His tone carried a hint of displeasure that didn't escape Sirius's notice. Despite himself, a slight sense of satisfaction flickered within Sirius at Remus's reaction.
Before anyone could respond, a pretty Ravenclaw leaned over Remus, enveloping him in a hug as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Rem, I thought you were going to try and sit with me this morning." She murmured.
Your body tensed at the sight of her; she was the girl from last night. A surge of jealousy, unlike anything you had ever experienced before, washed over you, catching you off guard. Your appetite vanished.
"Uh, sorry. I had to work on some things this morning and got a bit distracted." Remus's response came with a hint of discomfort, his apology tinged with unease. As you observed the exchange, you couldn't quite determine if his discomfort arose from her presence or the attention their interaction garnered. Quietly, you wished it leaned more towards the former.
Her lips formed a pretty pout, “Hm.”
James unabashedly observed the pair while taking a bite of his toast. "You know, Remus, if you ever need relationship advice, I’m here," he remarked, his tone teasing. Remus scowled in response, clearly unamused, while the girl giggled and tightened her grip around him, seemingly unfazed by James's comment.
You stole a glance at Sirius, momentarily tuning out the conversation to observe his reaction to the scene unfolding before you. Sensing the unease gnawing at your stomach, you instinctively reached for Sirius’ hand, which rested on his thigh. As soon as your fingers brushed against his, he responded by intertwining them with yours, his eyes meeting yours in silent understanding.
"Do you want to go?" he whispered softly, squeezing your hand in reassurance. Unable to trust your voice, you simply nodded in response. He released your hand momentarily, a fleeting disappointment washing over you until you watched as he effortlessly grabbed your bag and slung it over his shoulder. With a tender gesture, he reached for a muffin, noticing that you had hardly eaten.
Then, extending his hand towards you, he silently offered his support. Amidst James's lively conversation with the Ravenclaw girl and Remus's contemplative gaze, Peter looked on with a puzzled expression as Sirius extended his hand to you, a silent invitation to leave the discomfort behind.
"You don’t have to hold my bag." You mumbled, rising to your feet to face him, intertwining your fingers once more. Despite the awareness of the eyes fixed upon the two of you, your focus remained solely on Sirius.
"I wanted to, angel." Sirius replied softly, meeting your gaze with warmth. The genuine smile that graced your face was the first of the morning, and Sirius felt as if he had won the lottery.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
"Y/n." His voice sliced through the air, causing you to freeze mid-sentence. But deep down, what had you truly expected? That he wouldn’t approach you while you were quietly engrossed in your book in the common room? Your plan of avoiding him for as long as possible wasn’t unfolding as smoothly as you had hoped.
"Hi, Rem.” You responded softly, offering a genuine smile. Despite the ache that lingered from witnessing him with the Ravenclaw girl at breakfast, you couldn’t deny the bond you shared. After all, he was still your best friend. You couldn’t fault him for getting a girlfriend, no matter how much it hurt.
Remus settled into the armchair opposite you, his expression earnest. "I didn’t really get to talk to you much this morning," he began, his tone gentle.
You offered a nonchalant shrug, hoping to conceal the nervousness. "Oh. I mean, I wasn’t in much of a mood for chatting," you replied, attempting to maintain a façade of composure, though inwardly, you were anything but.
"Is everything alright? Is this about missing last night? I promise that I didn’t mean to, truly," Remus continued, his sincerity evident. Leaning forward, his eyes bore into yours, practically pleading for your forgiveness. Despite your resolve, his sincerity tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself wavering.
"I’m not upset about you missing our study night; I understand that things come up." You reassured him as though you were anything truly fine. There was a squeeze in your heart at remembering Remus with another girl, a stark reminder that she wasn't you.
Remus visibly relaxed at your words. "We could reschedule it?" he suggested, his tone hopeful.
A heavy silence settled between you. How were you supposed to tell him that you didn't want to reschedule? That you weren't ready to spend time alone with him right now? Being around him now, knowing you had no chance, felt like a punch to the gut.
"There you guys are!" James’ voice carried throughout the common room, effectively gaining more attention than he had probably intended. Sirius stood right beside him, his gaze already fixed on you. Peter was notably absent, likely engrossed in his studies elsewhere. Nevertheless, you welcomed the distraction.
James huffed as if he had been greatly inconvenienced. "We have been looking everywhere for you guys."
You couldn't help but laugh, "You didn’t think to check the common room first?"
"Y/n, please. Don’t be ridiculous." James quipped as he dropped into the armchair beside Remus. Remus's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he sighed and turned his attention to James. Soon enough, they were engrossed in their own conversation.
Sirius settled into the spot next to you, casually draping an arm over the back of the couch just behind your shoulders. As you leaned into his side and offered him a smile, he felt his cheeks flush with warmth. Your affectionate gestures toward him had always been present, but after last night, they seemed to intensify.
Your proximity never failed to make his heart skip a beat, and his stomach flutter. Despite his confidence in hiding his involuntary reactions to you, lately, it seemed more challenging for him to do so.
He greets you with the softest smile, his eyes reflecting warmth. "Hi, angel," he murmurs gently. Sirius had always affectionately called you angel, a term that secretly held a special place in your heart, one of your favorite things about him.
"Hi." You respond, a matching smile adorning your features, mirroring the comfort in his presence.
"I never got to thank you for last night." You admit, your tone filled with gratitude.
Shaking his head modestly, he insists, "You don’t have to thank me."
"It made me feel better having you there with me, so of course I want to thank you." You express earnestly, your appreciation evident in your words.
Sirius leans in, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers, "We still gotta talk about what you meant last night. By asking me to help you get over him."
Feeling a flush of embarrassment, you sputter out a response, "I’m not entirely sure what I meant. I figured you would know how to go about that."
"Why would I know how to go about that?" Sirius questions, genuine curiosity coloring his tone.
Shrugging, you admit, "I don’t know. I just thought you might have. You have way more experience with relationships than I do."
Sirius snorts, a wry grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I wouldn’t call them relationships." he remarks, his mind briefly wandering through the array of flings he'd had in the past few years. None of them had left a lasting impression on him, none of them had made him feel the way you did.
You shrug, a hint of vulnerability in your expression. "It’s more experience than I have.”
Your voices remain hushed, a deliberate attempt to avoid drawing the attention of James and Remus. Yet, the intimate proximity between you and Sirius could easily spark curiosity on its own. You're practically nestled against his side, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispers. To any onlooker, it would seem as though you were lovers, exchanging sweet nothings in a quiet moment of intimacy.
He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, acutely aware of the gravity of his next question. He understands that the answer could severely hurt his feelings, "Are you in love with him?"
Your reaction is swift; you turn to him so abruptly that your noses nearly brush against each other. Sirius silently begs you to linger closer, but you withdraw just enough to maintain a respectable distance. He watches intently as you steal a glance at Remus, your bottom lip caught between your teeth in contemplation.
"No. But, honestly, it probably wouldn’t take much for me to fall in love with him." You confess, your words hanging in the air like a weight. Sirius needs a moment to recover, the impact of your admission hitting him harder than he had anticipated, despite mentally preparing himself for it.
You turn back to him, anguish evident in your voice, "How are you supposed to get over someone you’re nearly in love with?" Sirius hears the devastation in your tone, wishing he could convey that he genuinely comprehends that sentiment. However, delving into such explanations would only invite more questions, and that's the last thing he needs right now.
"I don’t know, angel." He responds simply, observing as you anxiously pick at your nails.
A quiet lull envelops you both before you speak up again, "I don’t think spending all my time with him helps. Maybe I should distance myself a little bit."
"You’re welcome to spend all that time with me instead." Sirius offers, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to his side. As you relax into his embrace, you rest your head on his shoulder. For a few precious minutes, you both sit in silence, lost in your own thoughts.
Remus glances over at you, nearly doing a double-take at the display of affection. You have closed your eyes, seemingly oblivious to Remus' stare, but Sirius him. For a brief, tense moment, Remus and Sirius lock eyes, but then James regains Remus' attention.
“Sirius?” You ask, the weariness evident in your voice.
“Yeah?”
“Remember when you told James to get over Lily that he needed to get under someone else?” Sirius immediately senses the direction of the conversation, and a pang of regret twinges in his chest.
“Yes.”
“Do you think that really works?” You inquire, your tone tinged with uncertainty and a hint of desperation.
“For some people, maybe.” Sirius replies cautiously. He wants to admit that such tactics haven’t proven successful for him and probably never will.
You pull away to look at him, your eyes reflecting a mixture of hope and uncertainty, “Would you help me find someone?”
"There’s no way in hell I’m doing that." Sirius responds firmly, his tone leaving little room for negotiation. But before you can protest, he interjects, "I’ll be your distraction."
"How exactly?" Your voice tinged with uncertainty, unsure of what he means.
"However, you need me. I know I’m not the best study partner, but I’ll run through your flashcards with you whenever you need to study," Sirius offers, his voice softening as he glances from you to Remus. “I know you guys would talk about books a lot, so I’ll read whatever book you’re reading just to discuss it with you. Whatever you want me to do, Y/n, I’ll do it.”
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
“You and Y/n were cozy on that couch,” James comments casually, his gaze fixed on the ceiling from where he's sprawled out on his bed. Sirius glances over his shoulder at him, pausing his furious writing at the desk where he's been hunched over for the last twenty minutes.
“Hm. I guess so.” Sirius replies nonchalantly, but his voice’s a subtle tension.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” James' tone carries a note of genuine concern, and Sirius immediately feels the weight of his friend's apprehension settling over the room like a heavy blanket.
“Working on my homework? Yeah, it’s probably my best one yet.” Sirius responds, his tone strained as he tries to maintain composure.
“About comforting the girl you love because she’s in love with your best mate.” James continues, his words cutting through the air like a knife. Sirius freezes, the quill leaving a streak of ink across the paper as his thoughts whirl.
He refuses to turn around and face James, not wanting to see the pitying look he knows will be on his friend's face. Instead, he runs his hand through his hair in frustration, his emotions simmering beneath the surface.
“Surprised you figured it out.” Sirius grumbles, his voice laced with a mixture of defensiveness and resignation. He doesn’t want to confront the truth about your feelings for Remus. The mere thought of you falling in love with someone other than him ignites a pang of jealousy in his chest.
He wants to correct James, to insist that you aren’t in love with Remus, but it feels futile. The reality is too close for comfort, and he can't shake the feeling of impending loss.
“About your feelings? Or hers?” James questions, his head leaning back against his headboard as he studies Sirius, his expression searching.
Sirius climbs onto his bed, letting out a sigh of frustration once his head hits his pillow, the weight of the conversation heavy on his mind. “Both,” he admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
“I didn’t notice until today with Y/n. She looked devastated when Adeline was all over Remus. On the other hand, I’ve known you’ve had feelings for her for years. The things you do for her, you wouldn’t do for anyone else.” James observes, his tone tinged with a mix of understanding and concern.
Sirius doesn’t know what to say in response, but deep down, he knows James is right. He’s always treated you differently, gone the extra mile for you in ways he wouldn't for anyone else. He had just hoped it wasn’t so obvious.
James sighs loudly, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air, “You gotta be careful, mate. You’re gonna get your feelings hurt.”
“I’d rather my feelings be hurt than hers.” Sirius responds earnestly, his voice carrying a hint of determination.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
It was official. Remus Lupin and Adeline Reyes were officially dating. The news didn’t come as a surprise; Remus had been bringing her around more often lately. She seamlessly integrated herself into your group dynamic, joining you all at breakfast some mornings and effortlessly engaging in conversation as if she had been there for years. Adeline adeptly kept pace with Sirius’ quick quips and could outwit James with a witty comeback. She was quick to include Peter whenever James unintentionally overshadowed him in conversation and was always eager to discuss the next book you planned to read.
It was horrifically frustrating.
You wanted to dislike her, but deep down, you knew it was just jealousy clouding your judgment. Adeline was undeniably genuine and sweet; you could easily envision yourself becoming good friends with her. However, every time she affectionately pressed her lips to Remus’ cheeks or leaned into his side, it felt like a sharp pang reminding you of your own feelings and the heartwrenching situation you found yourself in.
It left a bitter taste in your mouth. Just a few weeks ago, that was your spot, and you were blissfully unaware of his feelings for another girl. You felt foolish, caught off guard. Was it all in your head? Had you merely romanticized every interaction with him? Built up a scenario that never truly existed?
"Y/n, this is the third time you've spaced out. Are you alright?" Lily's concerned voice broke through your thoughts as she settled beside you on the bed. Despite James's insistence on a get-together downstairs, you found your mind drifting elsewhere. It had been a couple of weeks since Remus and Adeline declared their relationship, and ever since then, your thoughts had been in turmoil.
You shrugged, "I'm okay. I just don't think I'm up for a party tonight."
"You haven't seemed in the party mood for weeks." Marlene remarked, her attention fixed on her reflection as she applied lip gloss. Sensing something amiss, she pivoted abruptly to face you.
"Is this about Remus and Adeline?" Lily's direct question made your stomach plummet.
"I, uh—no." You stammered, feeling as startled as you looked by her inquiry.
"Godric, you're a horrible liar." Marlene remarked, tossing the tube of sparkly gloss onto her bed before striding over to her trunk and flinging it open. "It's okay to miss your best friend. You two are practically glued to each other's sides. I'm sure it's odd not spending as much time with him anymore."
Lily observed the subtle shift in your demeanor as Marlene spoke, although Marlene herself was entirely engrossed in rummaging through her clothes until she emitted a satisfied hum.
Shoving a floral sundress into your hands, Marlene declared, "Here, you're not wearing your uniform tonight. Wearing something cute will make you feel better." Your fingers traced over the silky material, white with colorful flowers scattered across it. Marlene observed as you held up the dress, eyeing the spaghetti straps and milkmaid top with uncertainty.
"It's winter, Marlene." You pointed out your tone laced with practicality.
"We're inside. But if you do get cold, I’m sure Sirius would gladly warm you up." Marlene chirped, grinning at your surprised expression.
"Sirius is not going to warm me up." You grumbled as you stood up and headed to the bathroom with the dress in hand. With the door shut, you changed out of your uniform. You had to admit, the dress was pretty. Maybe Marlene was right; wearing something cute would boost your confidence and mood.
"Are you sure? You two have been awfully cozy lately!" Lily's laughter laced her tone as she called through the door. You slipped the dress on, then twisted in front of the mirror to assess how it looked. Concluding that you liked it, you also appreciated how it made you feel slightly brighter. It reminded you of a summer spent in Italy with your parents, where you practically lived in sundresses.
You turn open the door and twirl for the girls, who squeal in appreciation. Marlene snatches the lip gloss she had tossed aside, grabbing at your cheeks to dot some on your lips.
"We haven’t been cozy. We’re just acting like friends do." You mumble, your words slightly muffled from your cheeks being squished.
“Bullshit! You never snuggled Peter, never did with James before he got himself a girlfriend,” Marlene turned to wink at Lily. “Honestly, you never did with Remus either. But you and Sirius have been all over each other.”
“We have not!” You deny it, looking to Lily for support. But she only leans back on her hands and sends you a smug smile.
"The other day, I walked into the common room with James, and you were practically asleep on Sirius’ lap while he read to you.” Lily grins.
“He was reading to you? That’s the cutest thing I have ever heard. That’s your love language right there!” Marlene's gasp was filled with awe, and you didn't know how to respond. Because you had indeed fallen asleep on his lap while Sirius twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers absentmindedly as he read Pride and Prejudice to you. You hardly comprehended the story, too focused on Sirius’ voice and his gentle touch. It was the first time in weeks that you hadn’t thought of Remus.
“It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen Sirius do.” Lily agreed, nodding in approval. “I’m telling you, he has feelings for you. I’ve thought so ever since 5th year. He pretty much confirmed it when he gave you that red tulip.”
“A declaration of love!” Marlene practically sang, her excitement contagious.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
As you reached the bottom step with Marlene and Lily, you let out a sigh. The common room was bustling, with students scattered everywhere, making the air feel stuffy and warm. You briefly pondered what James’ definition of a get-together was, because this felt more like a full-blown party.
“James said he invited hardly anyone.” You muttered to Lily, who nodded in agreement.
“He’s a social butterfly, you never know with him.” Lily replied with a shrug, craning her neck to spot James amidst the crowd. She eventually spotted him near the fireplace, engaged in lively conversation with Sirius and a few other members of the Quidditch team. You allowed Lily to lead you through the throng of people, observing the lively atmosphere around you. Marlene had already disappeared into the crowd, no doubt on a mission to find Dorcas.
You can hear him before you see him: Sirius’ hearty laugh resonates over the music and the crowd’s chatter. It's a remarkable sound, drawing attention effortlessly. And there he is, standing tall next to James by the fireplace, a drink held casually in one hand while the other gestures animatedly as he converses with the guy beside him. Clad in a simple black T-shirt, Sirius exudes a captivating charm, and you can't help but admire how good he looks in the flickering firelight.
Though you'd never admit it aloud, Lily had been onto something. You and Sirius had been spending an increasing amount of time together. True to his word, Sirius had been a genuine distraction from your heartache. The activities you once shared with Remus were gradually being replaced by moments with Sirius.
It was no longer Remus, who you sat next to in the morning. No longer Remus, who you reviewed your flashcards with. No longer Remus, who would sit with you next to Black Lake and chat about your latest book. And no longer Remus, who would hold your hand to calm your anxiety every time you had to speak up in front of the class.
But it wasn’t like you had asked Sirius to do any of these things. It was Sirius who had started it, not in an attempt to replace what you had with Remus, but to remind you that he was there for you. That he would do anything to make you feel loved. Sirius wasn’t doing any of this because he felt obligated. He did it because he wanted you to know that you weren’t alone and that he didn’t plan on leaving any time soon.
But there were things that Sirius did that Remus had never done. Every morning, a cup of your favorite tea awaited at your spot next to him. He carried one of your scrunchies in his bag because you could never keep track of them, even offering to tie your hair up for you. Each time he walked around Black Lake, he brought you back a red tulip, which you tucked into the vase on your desk next to the others. You were building up quite the collection. 
Sirius bursts into laughter, but his mirth is interrupted by James' boisterous greeting. The sudden volume jerks your attention away from Sirius, and you find yourself facing Lily, who offers a halfhearted protest as James envelops her in a bear hug. You brace yourself as James turns his attention to you, lifting you up despite your protests about your dress. After he sets you down, a moment of imbalance is quickly rectified as you feel an arm slip around your waist, steadying you against someone's chest.
"He's had a few too many." Sirius whispers into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You lean into his embrace, relishing the warmth and familiarity of his touch before turning around to face him.
With your palms pressed against his chest, you offer him a warm smile. "Hi."
He still holds onto his drink, but his pointer finger slips under the strap of your dress, giving it a gentle tug. "This is cute," he murmurs, his voice now hushed compared to the near shouting from a minute ago. His eyes meet yours, and you feel a wave of warmth spread through you. No one has ever looked at you the way he's looking at you right now.
"Thank you." You reply softly, surprised at the tenderness in your own voice. But you know he hears you as he smiles before turning back to the conversation he was having with a few other guys.
Pushing down your disappointment, you adjust the straps of your dress and take a breath, scanning the room for someone else to chat with. However, Sirius surprises you by wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you gently into his side. He continues to talk, his voice much quieter this time, but the three subtle squeezes let you know he's still there if you need him.
Lily catches your eye and mouths, "I told you so."
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, it was just a coincidence that you found yourself in the vicinity at that moment. 
"You know, everyone thought you and Y/n were gonna get together." Peter remarks, nudging Remus in the side. Remus turns to him, likely taken aback. From your vantage point, you can't see their faces, but you recognize their silhouettes. They're seated together on one of the couches, engaged in quiet conversation amid the lively atmosphere of the party. You had briefly slipped away from Sirius to grab a drink, but now you're starting to regret your decision.
"Y/n and I?" Remus's response is laced with surprise, confirming your suspicions. You stand frozen, a few feet away from the couch, feeling your stomach plummet. 
"Yeah, I think most people thought you already were. I mean, you guys spent so much time together." Peter continues, oblivious to the impact of his words. You try to avoid lingering on the past tense word.
"No, never," Remus hastily interjects. “I don’t think I could think of Y/n like that.” His words landed like a heavy blow to your chest. You feel a pang of disappointment and hurt ripple through you, sitting heavy in your stomach. With tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you pivot on your heel and stride purposefully toward your dormitory.
As you navigate through the bustling crowd, your lips utter excuse me, and I need to get through in a mechanical cadence. Each step feels heavier than the last, burdened by the weight of Remus's words and the shattered illusions they bring.
Finally, the door to your dormitory swings shut behind you with a resounding thud, the noise a stark contrast to the chaos of the party below. Alone in the silence of your room, you confront the raw emotions swirling within you, grappling with the harsh reality of unrequited feelings.
Tears blur your vision so severely that you nearly trip over your shoes in your haste to remove them. With trembling hands, you toss the covers over your body, seeking refuge in the soft embrace of your bed. You bury your face into the welcoming embrace of your pillow, heedless of the inevitable mascara stains that will be left behind. A strangled sob escapes your lips, muffled by the sanctuary of your pillow, as you grapple with the overwhelming wave of emotions crashing over you.
The noise of the party downstairs serves as a comforting cloak, allowing you to release your emotions freely and without judgment.
The abruptness with which Remus shut down any possibility of harboring feelings for you cuts deep, like a dagger to the heart. The ache in your chest feels all-consuming, a relentless reminder that you will never be with him. Despite the rational part of your mind knowing that his affection for Adeline precludes any possibility of reciprocating your feelings, the emotional turmoil still wreaks havoc on your fragile heart.
In the solitude of your room, you allow yourself to cry. With each passing moment, the ache in your chest deepens.
"Y/n? Oh, Godric." Lily exclaims, rushing to your side with concern etched across her features. She gathers your hair away from your tear-streaked face, her eyes taking in the sight before her: cheeks flushed and blotchy, mascara-tinged tears tracing down your cheeks, your hair in disarray. She had sensed something amiss when she spotted you hurrying up the stairs, but the depth of your distress caught her off guard.
"Y/n, what can I do? Do you want a glass of water? Can I, uh..." Lily's voice trembles with worry as she looks around the room, searching for anything that might bring you comfort. She's witnessed your tears before, but never like this, leaving her feeling utterly helpless.
"I don't need water. Can you..." Your voice breaks, choked with emotion, making it difficult to articulate your thoughts.
Lily watches as you clutch your pillow tighter, waiting for your next words. "Can I what?" She prompts gently.
"I just need..." You falter, another sob escaping your lips. "Sirius. I need Sirius."
Without hesitation, Lily nods, determined to find Sirius and bring him to your side. As she exits your dorm, you sink deeper into your pillow, allowing the tears to flow freely. Your mind races with questions, grappling with how to face Remus again and feign normalcy.
You're not completely taken aback by his words; the past few weeks have allowed you to gradually accept that Remus may not share your feelings. Yet, processing this realization privately was less painful than hearing his firm denial of any possibility of reciprocation. Perhaps there's a tinge of sorrow in acknowledging this truth, as it signifies a shift in your relationship with Remus—one that might never be quite the same again. Accepting this reality proves to be a bitter pill to swallow.
"Angel," Your body instinctively relaxes at the soothing sound of Sirius’s voice. The pillow is gently drawn from your grip, revealing Sirius’ concerned face as it comes into view. "What can I do? What do you need?" he asks, his tone brimming with genuine concern and care.
Kneeling by the side of your bed, his eyes brim with concern, evoking emotion that threatens to overwhelm you once more. You lie on your side, facing him, your makeup smudged and your eyes swollen from tears. Despite your disheveled appearance, he finds you the most beautiful girl in the world.
"Hold on." He murmurs softly before disappearing into your bathroom. The sound of running water fills the silence, a gentle reminder of his comforting presence. Moments later, he returns with a damp cloth in hand, his touch gentle yet firm as he kneels before you. With tender care, he cradles your jaw, his movements deliberate as he gently wipes away the remnants of makeup from your face, his actions speaking volumes of his unwavering support and affection.
"All clean," he whispers softly, discarding the cloth onto the ground with the intention of dealing with it later. "What do you need?"
"You." You sniffle, tugging gently at his hand to convey your desire for him to join you in bed. Without hesitation, Sirius kicks off his shoes and slips under the covers beside you. With a tender gesture, he reaches out, his hand gently brushing the hair away from your face as he settles in beside you. Your faces hover mere inches apart, a tantalizing proximity that he tries to distract from by focusing on the simple task of brushing your hair away, the urge to kiss you tugging at the corners of his mind.
"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pull you away from the party." You murmur apologetically, your gaze meeting his. His eyes snap to yours, a flicker of offense crossing his features.
"I would drop anything for you." He responds earnestly, his sincerity shining through in his words, leaving no room for doubt. A sharp inhale escapes your lips as you stare back at him, the weight of his commitment settling between you.
"What happened, angel?" he asks gently, his eyes reflecting a hint of guilt for prying. As your eyes well up with tears once more, Sirius feels a pang of remorse for pressing the matter. He's about to apologize and suggest forgetting about it when you offer an answer, leaving him momentarily speechless.
"I overheard Peter and Remus." You confess, your voice trembling with vulnerability. Sirius forces down the surge of jealousy that threatens to consume him at the mention of Remus. 
"Peter told him that everyone thought he and I would get together." You continue, your words hanging in the air, heavy with disappointment and hurt. Sirius listens attentively, his heart aching for the pain etched in your voice.
"Remus told him that he couldn’t ever see me like that." You reveal, your voice wavering with emotion. "I know it’s stupid since he has a girlfriend, but-" You pause to draw in a shuddering breath, and Sirius gently brushes away the tears that cascade down your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose.
"It hurt," you confess, the rawness of your emotions laid bare. "That he’s never once seen me the way I have always seen him. We’ve always been just friends, and it sucks." Each word carries the weight of your longing and disappointment.
Sirius sighs, his voice tinged with empathy, "I love Remus, I do, but he can be blind sometimes. So in his head and down on himself that he misses what’s in front of him. And he truly missed out on the most perfect girl there is. But I promise you that there is a guy out there who will recognize what an angel you are, and he won’t ever let you go."
Your eyes well up with tears again, and Sirius starts to panic that he said something wrong. But then you're wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your head into the crook of his neck.
Your voice is muffled as you speak, "Please stay here with me tonight?"
"Whatever you want, angel." Sirius responds tenderly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, knowing there is no way he’d ever be able to deny you.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
James looks bewildered. "You aren’t going to sit with us?" he asks, confusion evident in his voice.
You stand behind your typical spot, observing the boys' reactions as they stare at you as though you've just delivered the worst news imaginable. For years, ever since you had met the boys, you had been sitting with them every day. This spot held a sense of familiarity and comfort, a symbol of your friendship with them. Thus, your decision to sit with the girls today comes as a major surprise.
Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas occupy seats further down the table. While they would occasionally join your circle, especially after Lily and James got together, Lily had once confided in you that she valued having space and prioritizing her friendships, too; she didn’t want to spend all her time with James. To everyone's surprise, James had been okay with this arrangement and had even agreed.
“I’m going to sit down the table with the girls. You’ll still be able to see me; we can wave at each other!” You offer James a hopeful smile, but he shakes his head, letting out a dramatic sigh.
Pointing his fork in your direction, James asserts, “It’s not the same, and you know it.”
“Sit with us, I feel like I hardly see you.” Remus protests and your stomach sinks as you make eye contact with him. Ever since you overheard Remus tell Peter he didn’t have feelings for you, you had been finding every excuse possible to avoid him.
It’s been a week since the party, and you can now admit that you've successfully avoided any alone time with Remus. By now, it's clear he senses something amiss. Every time he tries to approach you, you have an excuse ready for why you can't study together again or why you can't chat. What's worse is that it's only him you're avoiding. You still engage in normal chats with Peter in the common room and banter back and forth with James as usual. And Sirius, well, you hardly leave his side. Wherever you go, Sirius isn't far away, a constant presence by your side.
Not only that, but it seemed as if you couldn't get enough of each other—cuddled up on the common room couch, shoulder to shoulder during meals, and always side by side while walking to Black Lake. Sirius and you were growing increasingly closer with each passing day.
It was driving Remus crazy.
He looks at you pleadingly, his expression betraying the torment of seeing you drift away from him. You know his distress can't stem solely from your decision to sit with the girls. He started pulling away first, you think bitterly.
"Just wanted to spend some time with the girls, switch things up." You explain with a casual shrug, feeling a sense of awkwardness creeping over you as you shift on your feet. Remus wears a disappointed expression, while James and Peter appear to have already moved on, engaged in a bickering match over who gets the last orange.
"You've been switching things up quite a bit lately." Remus grumbles under his breath, his voice barely audible over the morning chatter in the dinning hall. Only Adeline catches his words as she pulls away to glance at his face, startled by the bitterness in his tone. Unaware of her scrutiny, Remus remains fixated on you, his expression betraying a mixture of longing and frustration.
"Okay, well, I’ll catch you guys later." You announce with a smile, and at that moment, Sirius glances up at you. He wants to tell you how much he'll miss you. Every morning, he eagerly anticipates the sight of your smile, the way you playfully bump your shoulder into his once you take your spot beside him. Your laughter and sweet smile are the highlights of his morning routine.
He'd gladly join you for breakfast with the girls if you asked.
To everyone's surprise, you sling your arms around Sirius' shoulders and tilt your head forward, looking at him from the side. Caught off guard, Sirius freezes in your embrace, trying desperately not to read too much into your unexpected touch.
"I'll wait for you so we can walk to class together. I'll miss you." You whisper, your lips pressing gently onto his cheek. A faint pink sheen of your lipgloss remains on his skin in the shape of your lips, a subtle reminder of your affection.
Before he can respond, you're already pulling away, leaving Sirius to watch you walk back to the girls. His cheeks flush, his mouth slightly parted in surprise. Remus narrows his eyes at the mark you've left behind while Adeline observes the interaction between Sirius and Remus, sensing Remus's agitation.
James lets out a low whistle. "She'll miss you, will she?" he remarks, his tone laced with amusement and curiosity.
“Oh fuck off, mate.” Sirius grumbles before taking a sip of his tea to try and hide his smile.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
You sigh, slumping down in your chair, "I don’t think I can handle another flashcard."
Sirius glances up from across the table, finding you lost in contemplation as you stare out the window. It's midday, and the sun's gentle rays illuminate the library, casting a warm glow despite the lingering chill outside. You both share the longing to step into the crisp air outdoors, yet Sirius remained steadfast in his commitment to assisting you with your studies.
"Do you wanna take a break?" Sirius asks, his gaze meeting yours as you glance up from the pile of books and notes spread out before you. Your lips press together, betraying the weight of your internal debate about whether you can afford to step away from your tasks.
"Come on, we can go for a walk." He encourages, his tone gentle yet persuasive as he begins to gather his belongings, preparing to pack his bag.
You concede, “A quick walk.”
The fresh air and the warmth of the sun against your skin felt rejuvenating after spending hours cooped up in the library. Your body ached, and your brain felt numb from the relentless studying. The only thing that kept you going was Sirius, who would slip you pieces of chocolate every time you answered a question correctly. Without him, you would have abandoned your studies hours ago.
As you walk, both of you are enveloped in a quiet tranquility, lost in your own thoughts. It's a comfortable silence, where neither of you feels compelled to fill the gaps with conversation. Instead, you simply bump into each other occasionally, exchanging shy smiles that speak volumes without a single word being uttered.
"Where are you taking me, Black?" You finally inquire, noting the direction as you pass Black Lake. You stroll leisurely, savoring the symphony of birdsong in the trees and the distant chatter of other students gradually fading into the background. Leaves shudder in response to the gentle breeze, prompting you to wrap your robes tighter around your body. Winter is approaching, and the biting chill in the air serves as a stark reminder of the season's impending arrival.
Sirius smiles in response, his expression warm and inviting, "Somewhere I think you'll like."
"Have I been there before?" You cast a glance at him, observing his wind-blown hair, cheeks flushed pink from the cold, and his bottom lip gently caught between his teeth.
"I hope not." He responds honestly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. The possibility lingers, given that the boys are familiar with this field as well. The mere thought of Remus bringing you here tightens his chest. After all, you and Remus often took walks together, so it wouldn't be too surprising if he had.
Would Remus have brought you here, though? Sirius contemplates quietly. He's never heard you mention it, but he knows you would have. You've always cherished exploring the castle and eagerly shared your discoveries with the boys.
Sirius is startled when you suddenly gasp, excitement laced in your tone, "Oh my Godric. Is that a field of tulips?"
Sirius feels his heart swell at the excitement in your voice. Before he can respond, you stride ahead of him, drawn to the swath of red flowers like a magnet. He remains where he stands, content to watch you as you explore the vibrant field.
A pang of longing washes over him as he wishes he had Lily's muggle camera. This moment would undoubtedly be captured and proudly displayed above his desk among his collection of Polaroids.
"C'mere!" You call out excitedly, your hand extended towards him. Sirius grins, his heart lightening at your enthusiasm as he walks over to join you. Once he reaches you, he gladly grasps your hand, feeling a rush of warmth at the connection.
You lead him further into the field, your laughter carrying on the gentle breeze. Finally, you drop into the middle of the sea of tulips, tugging him along with you, and for a moment, the world feels suspended in the beauty of the moment.
Tilting your head towards the sun, you sigh happily. "I didn’t know this was here," you remark, your voice filled with wonder.
"Found it with the boys a couple of weeks ago." Sirius responds, his fingers idly twirling a blade of grass he plucked from the ground.
"Did you pick the tulips you gave me from here?" You inquire, your voice soft with curiosity. Sirius nods in response, a faint blush gracing his cheeks as he recalls the memory. He's relieved that your eyes are still closed, blissfully unaware of his flustered state.
For a few minutes, a comfortable silence settles between you both, allowing the tranquility of the moment to envelop you like a warm embrace.
"Can I tell you something?" You ask, tilting your head back down to look at him, your gaze soft yet curious.
"Anything," Sirius replies, his voice filled with warmth and genuine interest.
"I've never been given flowers before. Whenever you give me a tulip, it's the highlight of my day." You admit softly, shifting so you're sitting with your legs crossed, a vulnerable honesty coloring your words.
"You've never been given flowers? Ever?" Sirius questions, his surprise evident in his tone and expression. You shake your head in response, confirming his disbelief.
He can't even fathom it. How could no one ever have given you flowers before? How does the girl who constantly doodles flowers on her notes never receive them? The thought perplexes him, stirring a mix of incredulity and a newfound determination to ensure you receive the appreciation you deserve.
"Guess I'll be making up for that then." Sirius decides, his voice showing determination as he sends you a devastating smile. Your stomach flutters at the sight.
"Sirius." you say softly, drawing his attention.
"What, angel?" He responds, his tone gentle and attentive.
"Thank you. For being by my side through everything." You express with sincerity, your voice filled with gratitude. 
In the past few weeks, Sirius has been a constant presence by your side. Whenever Remus kissed Adeline, Sirius would offer a comforting touch, silently understanding your feelings. He'd weave silly stories to divert your attention from Adeline's flirtations with Remus, ensuring you never felt alone for even a moment.
He grins in response, "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."
“Nowhere else, huh?” Your tone is teasing, and Sirius merely rolls his eyes at you, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. You observe him as he picks tulips one by one, gradually assembling a bundle in his hand. Watching him put together a bouquet that you know he will give you fills you with a sense of anticipation. Everything about sitting in a field of flowers with Sirius makes you feel lightheaded as if you're caught in a blissful dream.
Come to think of it, lately, every time Sirius did something for you, it left you feeling dizzy.
"You know it's true. I ditched Hogsmeade this weekend to spend time with you in the library." Sirius says, a hint of amusement in his voice as he recalls the decision.
"That's true, but I did advise you against it. I doubt a day in the library is much of a weekend highlight for you." You reply, raising an eyebrow playfully.
"If you think seeing you surrounded by a field of flowers isn't a weekend highlight, then you're sorely mistaken. Easily a monthly highlight for me." Sirius adds, his eyes sparkling with fondness as he gazes at you amidst the scenic beauty.
“You flirt.” You giggle, your laughter echoing in the tranquil atmosphere, before reclining on the grass and shutting your eyes.
Sirius' features soften at your playful remark. "Only for my favorite girl," he responds tenderly, his voice carrying warmth and affection as he watches over you.
What started as a short walk stretched into two hours spent in the flower field, immersed in conversation and selecting the loveliest blooms together. By the end, Sirius presented you with a bundle of tulips in various hues. Upon entering your dorm room with the flowers in hand, Lily's gasp was so pronounced that it startled you.
“Tell me that Sirius got you those.”
"He picked them for me." You beam, offering the bouquet to Lily for her admiration. "I mean, I helped too, but it was mostly him.”
“Who knew that he was such a romantic?” Marlene gushed, sitting next to Lily on her bed to take a peek.
“I told you he’s into you! Look at these flowers!” Lily cried out, flopping back onto her bed with the flowers pressed into her chest. Marlene laughs from beside her.
You rolled your eyes affectionately, “We're just friends.” Marlene scoffs.
"No, you're not. That little stunt at breakfast you pulled this morning. Hugging him from behind and kissing him? Definitely not platonic." Marlene remarks, her tone teasing yet observant. Embarrassment floods through you; you hadn't planned on being so affectionate with Sirius; it just happened. You're grateful Sirius didn't bring it up; you probably would have collapsed if he had. 
"I just kissed his cheek!" you defend, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks.
Lily grins mischievously. "You should've seen how he looked at you when you walked away."
"Totally lovesick!" Marlene exclaims, adding her enthusiastic agreement to Lily's observation.
"Both of you are being ridiculous. He doesn’t have feelings for me, and even if he did, I need to get over Remus first." Taking the bouquet from Lily, you stride toward your desk to add them to your glass jar full of other flowers. You're almost out of the room. Soon you’ll have to pluck out the ones that are dropping, but you don’t have the heart to do it yet.
The girls were fully aware of the situation. You explained to them why you were so upset the morning after the party. There was no way you could have pretended like something wasn’t wrong. With Sirius sleeping in your bed and your swollen eyes, there was no hiding anything.
"First?" Lily's voice carries a hint of excitement, exchanging a giddy look with Marlene.
You pivot, leaning against your desk. "What?"
"You said first. Like once you get over Remus, you could see yourself being with Sirius."
"No, I didn't." You protest, embarrassment flooding your stomach.
Marlene's grin widens mischievously as she exchanges a knowing glance with Lily. "Oh, but you did. We both heard you."
A nervous laugh escapes your lips as you playfully roll your eyes, "Oh, fuck off, guys.” 
Your friends continue to tease you, their laughter filling the room. Perhaps you were starting to form feelings for Sirius, but you preferred to keep them close to your heart, away from the probing eyes of Lily and Marlene, who always seemed to pick up on every subtle shift in your emotions.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
“There you are! I was worried sick!” James exclaims as Sirius opens the door to the dorm. Remus glances up from his book, while Peter remains focused on his homework, unfazed by James' dramatics. Sirius, lost in memories of his afternoon with you, barely registers James' words as he flops onto his bed, a goofy smile lingering on his lips.
It's only when James tosses his pillow at Sirius that he snaps back to reality.
“Oi! What was that for?” Sirius protests, finally acknowledging James' presence with a bemused expression.
“You’re ignoring me!” James accuses, crossing his arms.
Sirius stammers, “I wasn’t! I was just-“
James interrupts, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Daydreaming about Y/n? What did you two get up to anyways?”
Remus stiffens, lowering his book to look at Sirius, “You were with Y/n today?”
Sirius sits back up and exchanges a tense glance with Remus, “Yeah, I was.”
He turns to James, “Helped her study a bit.” He neglects to mention the flower field, wanting to keep that memory to himself. Plus, he knows the boys will tease them every chance they get.
James stares at Sirius, incredulity flashing across his face. "That's all? Sounds boring. Should've come to Hogsmeade with us."
Sirius is about to respond when Remus interjects, his tone betraying a hint of disbelief. "I'm sorry. You turned down Hogsmeade to study? With Y/n?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"Yes." Sirius says plainly.
“I’ll ask her to study.” Remus assures, as if that would settle Sirius.
Sirius shrugs, his tone nonchalant. "No need, mate. I've got her."
Remus furrows his brow, considering Sirius's response. "I can still ask her, give her another option," he suggests casually, but there's an undertone of something that Sirius can't quite decipher.
Sirius tenses, meeting Remus's gaze head-on. He's unsure if Remus is hinting at something deeper or if he's simply offering another study option. Nevertheless, Sirius feels a pang of reluctance at the thought of giving up his time with you, even for studying.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Peter huffed, practically slamming himself on the couch next to you, his frustration evident in the way he dropped onto the couch. “Remus and Adeline are getting on my last nerve.”
James glanced up from where he was sitting across from you, his attention momentarily diverted from the game of cards. His eyebrows raised in curiosity as he observed Peter's demeanor. "They makin’ out in the dorm again?" he questioned, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
You turn your head to hide your reaction, your stomach churning with familiar discomfort. After nearly two months of their relationship, you still felt uneasy hearing about them together, effectively reminding you of your lingering feelings for Remus.
It would be a lie to say that your feelings for Remus hadn’t changed. In fact, you were beginning to notice a subtle shift in your perspective, a gradual easing of the discomfort that once swarmed your chest at the sight of him and Adeline together. That twinge of jealousy you used to feel when looking at them was easing up, instead being replaced by a dull ache in your chest.
You found yourself increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of Sirius, his smile and the memories of your time together occupying your mind more frequently than before. You caught yourself smiling at the little moments you shared, replaying conversations and gestures, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence even when he wasn't around.
Peter shook his head against the cushion, his expression irritated. "No, they’re bickering. They've been at it for nearly twenty minutes. Couldn’t get a damn thing done on this essay.”
James wore a look of surprise as he arched his eyebrow, “They’re fighting?”
Peter looked away from the fire to glance over at James blankly, “No, bickering. There’s a difference.” His tone is matter-of-fact and laced with frustration.
“We’ll be quiet, Peter. Work on your essay.” You promise, sending the blond boy a soft smile.
James’ lips curve in a mischievous grin, eyes lit up with amusement, “Guess all relationships have to come out of the honeymoon phase.” He quips, tone playful with satisfaction. Peter sighs, tipping his head back onto the headrest of the couch like he can’t take anymore.
“James, it’s your turn.” You call, the gentle tap of your pointer finger against the cards catches his attention. His eyes flicker down to the cards sprawled between you both before glancing back up at you.
“Did you at least appreciate my pun?” He asks, a hopeful upturn of his lips present.
“It was wonderful.” You affirm, voice soft as if you’re telling a young child that their artwork is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.
James’s face lights up with a satisfied smile, and his voice is full of teasing gratitude, “Thank you, Y/n. I knew you would have my back.”
“What does she have your back about?” Sirius’ voice cuts through the air, his sudden appearance causing you and James to glance over at him. Peter opens one eye as Sirius sits on the couch next to him.
James stares at the cards while debating his next move, “She appreciates me for who I am. Maybe you should take some notes from her.” 
Sirius hardly hears James. Instead, his eyes flicker over to you. He finds himself entranced by the subtle movements of your features, the way your eyebrows furrow in playful impatience as you await James to decide. The glow from the fire is dancing over your face, and he has the urge to reach out and touch your cheek, tracing over where the heat has touched. You look gorgeous like this, drenched in the soft light of the fire and so at ease. The words are at the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them down.
As your eyes meet his, a gentle smile graces your lips, and Sirius feels his stomach flip and heart stutter. You’re looking at him with so much warmth that you could rival the fire next to you, and he knows he never wants to forget the way you’re looking at him.
Amidst the crackle of the fire and the soft murmurs of the surrounding conversations, it’s then that Sirius is struck by the sudden realization that sends shockwaves throughout his entire body. He is hit with the truth that he’s been avoiding for ages; he is entirely and desperately in love with you.
Sirius grapples with a fact that feels almost suffocating in its intensity. His gaze falls to his lap, the reality of his situation weighing heavily upon him. He’s in love with a girl who holds feelings for someone else. Not just someone else, but Remus. His best mate, who, as of lately, has shown increasing concern about the nature of your relationship with Sirius. The way he pinches his brows together when you laugh at a joke Sirius makes, the subtle shifts in his demeanor whenever you show Sirius affection- it’s all Sirius can focus on. Remus sees you in a different light, and it’s making Sirius uneasy.
And so, he sits in silence, grappling with the truth that he’s fallen for a girl that will never be his.
“Sirius,” You say softly, your hand gently resting atop his, hoping to bring him back from his thoughts. His eyes dart up to meet yours, and you smile softly. “You okay? You’re quiet.”
No, he isn’t. 
But instead, he offers a reassuring smile and squeezes your hand, “I’m okay, angel. Just tired.”
“Not too tired to lose to me in cards, are you?” James interjects, sporting a cocky grin and cracking his knuckles in intimidation. “I’m tired of playing with Y/n. She wins every time.”
Sirius laughs, hauling himself off the couch to sit beside you both before shuffling the cards.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
“Y/n.” You startle at Remus’ voice, nearly spilling your cup of tea down your front. He sends you a soft smile, sitting beside you on the couch. You set your tea on the table next to you. Sitting up and shifting your legs to the side and underneath you, you make room for him. The way you were stretched out before hardly allowed him any room.
“Rem.” You greet him, sending him a gentle smile. The corners of his mouth lift at the nickname; he hasn’t heard it for a while.
He leans back against the couch, gaze firm on you, “How was your day?” His voice is gentle and soothing. His voice was always one of your favorite things about him, always a source of comfort to you.
“It’s been alright, not too much to say about it,” Your left shoulder lifts up into a shrug, and you rest your right arm against the couch to prop your head up. Bodies both facing each other. “How was yours?”
“James nearly singed off my eyebrows in potions,” He says amusedly. He’s got bags under his, and his body seems tired. You cringe when you remember the full moon was just a few days ago.
“Not entirely surprising,” You remark with a laugh, mind trailing to all the times James had proved himself not the best partner. As much as you loved James, his tendency to get distracted had cost you during classes plenty of times before. 
“How’s Adeline?” You ask politely, the words coming out with practiced ease despite the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. Remus’s smile falters, and he lets out a sigh, gaze drifting away from you.
“I don’t know.” He admits, hand coming up to run through his hair. He won’t meet your eye.
“You don’t know?” Your brow is quirks in curiosity, and genuine concern is etched onto your features. Memories of Peter complaining about the two bickering flickers back from a week ago.
“She’s not happy,” Remus confesses, his tone is heavy with resignation. “Disappearing for a couple days doesn’t exactly make me boyfriend of the year.”
You nod sympathetically. You understand, if you were in the dark about your boyfriend’s whereabouts for a couple days, you would be upset as well.
“Are you going to tell her?” You asked gently. It felt weird to talk to Remus again after going nearly two months without much interaction. All your time used to be spent with Remus, but Sirius seems to have taken that spot nowadays.
His gaze meets yours as he nervously bites at his bottom lip, he seems apprehensive, “I don’t know if she could handle it.”
“Rem,” You begin, voice soft and resolute, a reflection of the support you have always offered him. Despite the change in your relationship, your commitment to being there for him remains. “She deserves to know, especially if the two of you want to be together.”
His brows are pinched tightly together as he wrings his hands together, “What if she doesn’t take it well? What if she tells-”
You interject gently, “You’ve been dating two months, you should have a feel for how she would react.” 
He meets your eye with an uncertainty, “Y/n.”
“Yeah?” You respond, voice quiet.
“I don’t know if I can tell her. I don’t think it will be as easy as telling you was.”
“You shouldn’t compare her to me.”
“But I do.” Remus whispers, the gravity of his admission catching you off guard. His shoulders are hunched over as he rests his elbows on his knees, hands still nervously wringing together as he looks over at you.
Your breath is caught in your throat. You break eye contact to clear your throat, shifting uneasily on the couch.
“Adeline is your girlfriend, and I’m just your friend. You really shouldn’t compare us, Rem. If you want to be with Adeline, you should really think about telling her.” You murmur, truth stinging as it leaves your mouth.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Marlene sighs, her voice laced with playful incredulity, "Sometimes I wonder how James Potter managed to get you." Sirius barks out a laugh from his spot across from you, his amusement echoing around the room. Lily's mischievous grin widens as she shoots a playful wink at Marlene, enjoying the banter.
"I'm a damn catch, McKinnon!" James retorts dramatically, pulling Lily even closer into his side, the affection between them palpable. Lily leans up to press a kiss on James’ jaw, a tender moment amidst the playful teasing.
"That lapdance you just gave your girlfriend? Horrific." Marlene shakes her head with exaggerated disdain, her expression a mix of amusement and mock disgust.
"If you didn't wanna see it, then you wouldn't have dared me to do it," James fires back with a smirk, the competitive edge still in his tone.
You're all gathered in a circle, indulging in a juvenile game of truth or dare. The boys took charge, rearranging the furniture into a circle so everyone could sit comfortably.
Marlene had insisted upon it, likely hoping to be roped into a dare that would bring her closer to Dorcas. 
You're seated on one of the couches beside Lily, with James on her other side and Peter beside him. Adeline occupies the space to Peter’s left, seated next to Remus on one of the smaller couches. Sirius has claimed an armchair for himself. Marlene and Dorcas are cozied up in another armchair, much to Marlene's delight over the seating arrangement.
While Remus had yet to tell Adeline about his lycanthropy, he was attempting to make amends with her. You sent him a sweet smile and thumbs up when you saw them walking in together. It was clearly tense between the two, but that was to be expected.
Amidst the laughter and playful exchanges, you had failed to notice the tension simmering between Sirius and Remus, evident in the disgruntled glances they exchanged at being seated next to each other.
James turns to you with a devious grin, “My sweet Y/n, you will be picking dare.”
“Excuse me? You can’t pick for me!” You retort, sending James an incredulous look.
“But I have the best dare for you!” James insists, leaning closer with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“No.” You refuse, shaking your head slightly.
“Y/n, please.” He pleads, attempting to send you puppy dog eyes. Marlene snorts from beside you.
Lily sighs, “Y/n, do the dare. He will beg you all night.” You roll your eyes, letting out a sigh that immediately lets James know you have given in.
“Kiss the person you are most attracted to in this room.” Your stomach sinks like a stone, regretting your lack of resistance to James. The group around you comes alive with oohs, except for Remus and Sirius, who sit uneasily, their expressions displaying discomfort.
“Absolutely not. I can’t!” Sirius feels sick. You’re refusing because you can’t kiss Remus- that has to be it. 
“Sorry, can’t back out now! Make your way over to the lucky person.” James sounds far too cheery to be sorry.
The tension in the air becomes palpable as everyone awaits your decision. You draw in a deep breath, summoning your courage before rising to your feet and crossing the room toward him. The anticipation is almost tangible as your friends murmur excitedly, their eyes fixed on you.
You come to a sudden halt, feeling your knees bump against his as he instinctively sits straighter in his chair. Sensing your approach, he spreads his thighs slightly, silently inviting you to take the space between them. His demeanor shifts, a mix of anticipation and apprehension evident in his expression.
"Might make it easier if you sit in his lap." Marlene suggests with a mischievous grin, earning a pointed glare from you over your shoulder.
"You can, angel," he murmurs sweetly, reaching out to gently grasp your hand, his touch reassuring and electric. 
You let out a shaky sigh, feeling a rush of nerves as you ease yourself into his lap, your knees sinking into the cushion and your thighs naturally bracketing his. Ignoring the whistles and playful comments that ring out from your friends, you focus on the warmth of his body beneath you, the steady rhythm of his breath, and the way his hands hover uncertainly before settling lightly on your hips.
"We're waiting!" James calls out, amusement laced in his tone, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Feeling a rush of determination, you gently bring your hand to his cheek, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine and lowering your head towards his. He's quick to meet you, his breath mingling with yours, noses bumping softly in a moment of sweet anticipation.
He's patient, his breath mixing with yours as he waits for you to make the first move. With a tender touch, you tilt your face closer, feeling the gentle brush of your lips against his in the softest kiss. For a fleeting moment, you both linger there, foreheads pressed together, lost in the moment’s intimacy.
“Tell me this isn’t because you couldn’t kiss him.” His voice is raspy, filled with longing, sending your mind spiraling. His voice is quiet, ensuring that no one will hear him but you.
“You’re the only one I thought of.” You admit softly, hoping you don’t sound nearly as wrecked as you feel.
Sirius surges forward, his lips meeting yours with a passion that catches you off guard, causing a surprised moan to settle in your throat, lost in the whirlwind of sensations and emotions. Your friends' whistles and hollers fade into the background, overshadowed by the intensity of your focus on Sirius.
Your fingers weave through his hair, a silent plea to draw him closer, to merge the space between you. His hand glides from your hip, settling tenderly against your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles across your skin. When you roll your hips involuntarily, Sirius lets out a tortured groan and your blood simmers.
"Okay, okay! We've seen enough!" James hollers, his voice breaking you both out of the moment. As James's voice echoes through the air, you part from Sirius, the gravity of what you have both just done settles in. Your chests heave in unison, lips swollen from kisses and cheeks flushed.
Frozen, you and Sirius sit there, stunned, oblivious to the teasing of your friends. The air crackles with tension as you both lock gazes, the desire to lean in and kiss him again overwhelming you.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Your mind remains frazzled in the aftermath of kissing Sirius. No matter how much you attempt to push it away, it's as though your body stubbornly clings to the memory of his lips upon yours, as if you're still nestled in his lap, feeling the gentle pressure of his hands on your hips. Both of you exchanged shy smiles as you gently slid off his lap, yet inside, your stomach churned with disappointment at the prospect of returning to your previous seat. Truthfully, you wanted to linger longer, to settle beneath his arm, and remain close to him.
In all honesty, Remus didn't even flicker into your thoughts when James issued his dare. The realization of this truth sends a shiver down your spine. When had Sirius managed to steal the place in your thoughts that Remus had held for so long?
Perhaps it was in the way he had cared for you like no one else ever had.
The sight of a steaming cup of tea, reliably waiting for you in your designated spot at the table. Even when he could have been enjoying himself in Hogsmeade, he chose to stay behind and help you study, just because you mentioned not having Remus to study with. And the simple yet heartfelt gesture of presenting you with fresh tulips just because you mentioned you had never gotten flowers before.
How had you moved on from Remus without even noticing? Perhaps that subtle ache in your chest whenever you glanced at Remus and Adeline stemmed from the change in friendship between you both. Maybe those tear-filled initial weeks spent with Sirius comforting you were a form of grieving the relationship that could never be with Remus. 
While Sirius helped you to get over Remus, he had been gently guiding you toward developing feelings for him instead without even realizing it.
After watching your kiss with Sirius, Remus withdrew from the game entirely. The memory of your intimate moment with Sirius replayed incessantly in his mind, each repetition adding to the sting in his chest. In a fleeting moment of vulnerability, he had allowed himself to entertain the hope that it might have been him you chose to kiss. However, the presence of Adeline at his side swiftly extinguished that flicker of optimism, leaving him feeling profoundly disappointed and conflicted with himself.
The sight of Sirius enveloping you in his arms, and the undeniable chemistry between the two of you, stirred a thick feeling of dread in his stomach.
Each soft kiss, each exchanged glance, seemed to intensify the bitter pang of jealousy gnawing at his insides. It was as though a veil had been lifted, revealing a reality he had been trying to deny—the depth of his feelings for you. And the realization that he might lose you for good.
"Remus! Truth or dare?" Dorcas inquired, her eyes alight with mischief.
Remus let out a resigned sigh; he wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with a dare.
"Truth," he replied, hoping for a relatively simple question.
Dorcas wasted no time in posing her question, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Who was your first big crush?"
The simplicity of the question drew an immediate protest from James. "Lame!" he squawked, his tone dripping with dissatisfaction. "Ask him something better."
Marlene swiftly came to Dorcas's defense, her voice laced with defiance. "Back off, James," she retorted sharply. "She can ask whatever the hell she wants,” She bit out before turning to Dorcas. “Great question, love." Her words sounded entirely lovesick.
"Uh, my first big crush was Y/n." Remus confessed, his gaze darting toward you, eager to gauge your reaction amidst the tension. However, he failed to notice the subtle tensing of Adeline beside him, her expression morphing into one of disbelief as his words hung in the air.
Your brows furrowed, a mixture of confusion and frustration etched across your features as you processed Remus's unexpected admission. The weight of his words lingered, casting a palpable awkwardness over the group as you responded with an unimpressed look.
Sirius felt a surge of nausea rising within him, his gaze narrowing at Remus before anxiously darting over to you, waiting with bated breath to see how you would react to Remus's unexpected confession. Each second felt like an eternity as he searched for any sign of your thoughts or emotions, his heart pounding in his chest with a mixture of dread and anticipation.
As he watched your expression carefully, Sirius couldn't help but wonder what you were thinking. Were you filled with hope at his confession? Did you still want him?
“That’s not funny, Rem.” You retort, sending him an entirely unimpressed look.
“I’m not joking.” He insists, his voice has a hint of vulnerability in it. Adeline sends him an incredulous look, but his eyes are solely trained on you.
“That’s bullshit.” You countered, your voice laced with frustration as you pushed back. The tension between you and Remus was palpable, your friends watching both of you carefully. Unsure if they should intervene or not.
“It’s not. Started fourth year, I liked you for years.” Remus confesses, hand tugging through his hair in frustration.
“You said you would never have feelings for me.” Your brows are pinched in disbelief, your voice filled with hurt and frustration.
Remus looks entirely confused, “What are you talking about?”
“With Peter! At the party like a month ago.” You exclaim, memory fresh in your mind. While your feelings for Remus may have faded, the pain from his words hadn’t.
Remus shakes his head slowly, eyes searching yours for understanding, “I never said that, love.”
“You did. You told Peter, ‘I don’t think I could ever think about Y/n like that.’” You reiterated, your voice tinged with disappointment as Remus’s expression faltered, his own words echoing back to him.
“You didn’t hear the rest then.” He says, his voice filled with regret and desperation for you to understand.
Your frustration has bubbled to the surface, “Oh, great. So glad I didn’t stay to hear you continue about how awful it is that everyone thought we would end up together.” Your words are a mixture of sarcasm and hurt
"Y/n, I-" Remus began, his voice trailing off as you cut him off with a sharp interruption.
"Do you know what that feels like? To hear your best friend talk about you with so much disgust?" you demanded, the hurt evident in your voice as you confronted him head-on.
"I wasn’t disgusted!" Remus protested, his own frustration rising to meet yours. "You didn’t hear the rest!" he insisted, his tone tinged with desperation as he struggled to convey his side of the story.
"What else did you say?" It was Adeline who broke the tense silence, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. Remus's gaze shifted to her, startled by her sudden interjection. Her expression was one of disbelief, her brows furrowed and her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a silent testament to her own confusion and dismay at the unfolding situation.
"I said I didn’t think I could think about you like that because of-" Remus's voice faltered, his words hanging in the charged air. You leaned forward, your frustration palpable as you awaited his explanation, your gaze unwavering as you demanded clarity.
"Because of what, Remus?" You pressed, the tension thickening with each passing moment. Remus's eyes darted briefly to Sirius, a flicker of hesitation betraying his inner turmoil, but you caught the movement.
Sensing the rising tension, you glanced over at Sirius, who watches Remus with a tense look. His expression carried a silent message. Urging Remus to choose his words carefully.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Sirius grits out, his voice laced with a raw edge of warning. Remus's uncertainty is evident as he grapples with what he’s just implied.
“Do you still have feelings for her?” Adeline's voice trembles with devastation as she poses the question, her heart laid bare in the vulnerability of the moment. Sirius's reaction is immediate; he stands up abruptly, his movements tense with unspoken frustration as he strides towards the stairs, refusing to linger for Remus's response.
“Sirius.” You call out desperately, rising to your feet swiftly to intercept him. He starts heading for his dorm, but you gently grab his wrist and guide him toward yours instead. Without a word, he follows your lead until you reach your door, both of you stepping inside quietly.
Sirius doesn’t utter a word, his silence filling the space between you as he leans back against your door. His head tilts upward, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if searching for answers in its expanse. 
You step closer, closing the distance between you, your footsteps echoing softly in the quiet room. With a gentle touch, you place your hand on his cheek, a tender gesture designed to draw his attention back to you. You find yourself more preoccupied with Sirius than the recent events downstairs. Dealing with the situation involving Remus can wait; at this moment, your main concern is resolving things with Sirius.
He lets out a sigh, the weight of his emotions palpable as he drops his gaze from the ceiling to meet yours. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of remorse and vulnerability.
You can't help but laugh incredulously at his apology, the sound carrying a blend of surprise and amusement. "What are you sorry for?" You inquire, your tone gentle yet tinged with curiosity, as you search his eyes for the answer.
He sighs, “That you found out this way.”
“About what?” You both know that you already know the answer but that you just want him to say it.
“About Remus’s feelings for you, about my feelings for you.” Sirius admits, his voice soft as he swallows harshly.
You take a deliberate step closer to him, closing the gap between you with a sense of purpose. "And what are your feelings for me?" you repeat, your tone carrying a playful lilt, a silent challenge lingering in your words, daring him to bare his heart to you.
"Y/n," he pleads softly, his hands instinctively finding their place on your hips, drawing you closer to him just an inch. “Remus pretty much spelled it out, didn’t he?”
"I don’t want to hear it from Remus, I want to hear it from you.” You assert, your voice tinged with determination as you press closer to him. His eyes flit down to the diminishing space between your bodies.
He sighs, a soft exhalation laden with unspoken emotions, “You drive me crazy.” He confesses, shaking his head in gentle disbelief. A grin spreads across your face, your heart lightening at the familiar banter between you.
"Yeah? Is that all?" you tease, a playful glint in your eyes as your arms rise to encircle his neck, drawing him closer.
His gaze softens, a hint of vulnerability shining through as he meets your eyes. "I’m crazy about you, have been since the moment I met you." He confesses, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.
His words ignite a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach, a giddiness that bubbles up from within. Unable to contain the surge of emotions, you rise onto your toes, closing the gap between you as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss. He lets out a surprised hum, circling his arms around your waist and hauling you into him.
He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead on yours, his expression tinged with uncertainty, "Y/n,” He murmurs, his voice laced with apprehension, “I can’t do this if you still want Remus.”
You pull back slightly, creating a small space between you yet maintaining the intimacy of your connection as you gaze into his eyes. "Do you think I would have followed you if I still wanted Remus?" You inquire softly, your voice imbued with sincerity.
"I meant every word when I told you that you were the only one I thought of for James’ dare." You continue, your words carrying a gentle reassurance, seeking to dispel any lingering doubts or insecurities that may linger between you.
"I want you, Sirius." You whisper earnestly, your voice soft yet resolute, laying bare your desires and intentions as you seek clarity and connection with him.
The smile he gives you is radiant, brimming with unabridged happiness, illuminating his features with an undeniable warmth that reflects the depth of his emotions.
"I've been dreaming of you saying that for ages." You squeal with uncontainable delight as he dips down and scoops you up, your legs instinctively circling his waist. Together, you embark on a journey towards your bed, his steps sure and purposeful, each movement imbued with a sense of anticipation and excitement.
He settles onto the bed, seating you gently in his lap, and you can't help but giggle uncontrollably, the sound filling the room with infectious joy as you revel in the sheer exhilaration of the moment shared between you.
As you lean down and press your lips onto his, he exhales softly, as if shedding all his worries, finding true peace in the gentle brush of your lips against his. He's never encountered a feeling of rightness as profound as this throughout his life. He is completely done for.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Lily and Marlene didn't return to the dorm last night. After the awkward end to your game of truth or dare, you assumed they were giving you some space. And frankly, you were grateful for it. 
You weren't eager to delve into the topic of Remus confessing his past feelings for you. Although he didn't explicitly reveal whether or not those feelings still lingered, the reactions from both Adeline and Sirius served as a telling response.
You knew that a conversation with Remus was inevitable. Yet nervousness gnawed at you. What if there was no salvaging what remained of your friendship? Despite the awkwardness of the past few months, the desire to keep him in your life persisted, making the conversation all the more important.
The night unfolded with you and Sirius intertwined, lost in stolen kisses and hushed conversations within the dimly lit dorm. You had never felt so content in your whole life. Being with Sirius felt like a breath of fresh air. There were no lingering doubts about his feelings; his actions spoke volumes, leaving no room for uncertainty. Reflecting on the past, you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever been so blind to his affections.
“You almost ready m’love?” Sirius called, casting a glance your way as he deftly tied his tie in front of your mirror.
His endearment sent a flutter through your heart. It felt as though the kiss with Sirius last night had unleashed a torrent of emotions, flooding your senses with newfound intensity. It sent a thrill through your body, yet you felt somewhat disheartened as well. How had you managed to overlook Sirius for so long? He had been there all along, yet you found yourself pining over Remus, who had seemed indifferent to your feelings.
"Yeah, whenever you’re ready." You offered a soft smile as you slipped on your final shoe, steadying yourself with a gentle grip on the bedpost.
You rose to your full height, crossing the distance to Sirius, who advanced to meet you halfway, his hands finding their place on your hips. You encircled your arms around his neck, drawing yourself nearer to him. He smiled warmly down at you, delicately tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear before returning his hand to your hip.
"How do you want to go about this?" Sirius asked his brow furrowing with a hint of unease, his gaze searching yours for guidance.
Your brow pinched in confusion, "Go about what? Us?" For a brief moment, the idea crossed your mind – did Sirius want to go back to the way things were before? However, that thought evaporated as quickly as it appeared when you recalled the firmness of his embrace, the intensity in his gaze fixed upon you.
He nodded, his expression softening with concern. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I understand things might be tense with Remus, and I don’t want to make it harder for you."
"You know what I want?" Sirius tightened his embrace, prompting you to elaborate. "I want you to treat me like I’m yours, show everyone that we’re together. I couldn't care less about what anyone thinks." Both of you understood that anyone referred to Remus. Sirius remained silent, his gaze fixed on you, his expression indecipherable.
Your expression shifted to one of uncertainty, your brows furrowing slightly as you sought clarification. "We're together, right?" You asked, your voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability, searching his eyes for confirmation. 
Sirius's smile radiated such genuine warmth that a flutter of attraction danced in your stomach, “Yeah, baby. We’re together.” He couldn't fathom that he held you, his dream girl, in his arms, asking him if the two of you were together. It took him a moment to fully grasp the reality of the moment. 
He continued, “Don’t think that I’m not going to properly ask you to be mine, though, because I will. I promise.”
Unable to resist, you leaned in, capturing his lips with your own. Instantly, he responded, returning the kiss with equal fervor and intention.
With a reluctant sigh, you pulled away, your fingers lingering against his cheek as you whispered, "We need to get to breakfast."
"I think I can starve." Sirius shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he leaned down to capture your lips once more.
You couldn't help but giggle, gently pushing him away, "Stop it, we gotta go. We’re going to be late." You insisted, a hint of laughter dancing in your voice as you playfully nudged him towards the door, the lingering taste of his kiss still tingling on your lips.
As you entered the common room, a wave of surprise washed over you at the sight of all your friends gathered, comfortably sprawled across the couches and armchairs. You slowed to a stop, catching Sirius off guard as he turned to follow your gaze, his eyes widening in surprise as they landed on the familiar faces of your friends.
"We wanted to make sure you two were okay after last night," Lily paused, her gaze piercing as she shot a pointed glare at Remus, who visibly shrank into the couch cushions. He appeared exhausted as if he hadn't slept all night, and you couldn't help but notice Adeline's absence beside him. 
"But it looks like everything is good?" Lily continued, her voice hopeful as her eyes dropped down to where your hand intertwined with Sirius'.
"Everything's fine," you affirm, offering a soft smile as Sirius squeezes your hand reassuringly. "But I need to talk to you, Rem. Alone.” You add, your tone gentle yet firm, conveying the importance of the coming conversation.
Sirius is the first to break the tense silence, shifting slightly while the others remain rooted in place, their eyes flitting between Remus and you. The atmosphere feels charged with unease, and you can sense the weight of Lily's unspoken words lingering in the air, knowing full well she gave Remus a piece of her mind the moment you left last night.
Before he can move away, you pull him back, your hand gently tugging him closer as you press your lips to his. A surprised sound escapes him before his hands come up to hold your cheeks. Remus clenches his jaw, unable to watch as you both melt into each other. 
James lets out a low, appreciative whistle, and Lily suppresses a smile behind her hand. Peter and Dorcas avert their gaze shyly while Marlene beams at the sight of Sirius melting into you. It's evident that they're all on Team Sirius.
As you both draw back, your gazes locked in mutual adoration, Sirius places another swift kiss on your lips. "I'll have your tea waiting for you," he promises softly.
A bright smile spreads across your face. "Thank you," you reply, your voice filled with warmth and gratitude.
As Sirius finally draws back, the others follow suit. James is already by his best friend's side, chatting animatedly. Lily and Marlene exchange knowing grins with you, silently promising a conversation later. Meanwhile, Peter and Dorcas trail behind, engaging in casual conversation as they meander along.
You sigh, bracing yourself for what promises to be an awkward conversation, and then take a seat beside Remus on the couch. The tension in the air is palpable, amplified by the near emptiness of the common room. Remus sits up straight, stealing a glance in your direction, his demeanor reflecting the unease of the moment.
“Are you okay?” Remus looks mildly surprised, that wasn’t the first thing he expected you to ask.
He clears his throat nervously, “Uh, I’ve been better, honestly. Are you?” 
He observes as you gracefully draw your legs onto the couch, tucking them underneath you. Finally, you meet his gaze, and he's momentarily taken aback by your beauty. A pang of regret hits him like a wave – he wishes he had confronted his feelings for you earlier. Perhaps then, it would have been him sharing kisses with you instead of watching you with his best mate.
"I'm good." Remus watches as you absentmindedly bring your fingers up to brush against your lips, a lovesick expression softening your features. You appear momentarily lost in thought, a dazed quality to your gaze. 
Clearing your throat, you shake off your thoughts, "But I'm disappointed about last night. What on hell was that?"
"Y/n," Remus's voice quivered with sincerity as he addressed you, his eyes reflecting the remorse weighing heavily upon him. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to upset you." He whispered, the words thick with sincerity.. 
You sighed, the weight of your frustration and disappointment lacing your tone, "And Adeline?" Remus looked startled. In the wake of you rushing to follow Sirius, Adeline had bravely broached the subject of his feelings towards you. Caught off guard, Remus found himself grappling for words, acutely aware of his friends' scrutinizing gazes, which bore a mixture of astonishment and disapproval. His hesitation was a silent confession to Adeline, who gathered her belongings swiftly, her departure punctuating the air with an unspoken disappointment. In the ensuing silence, Remus remained rooted, torn between pursuing you and granting you the space he sensed you needed. Regrettably, the thought of going after Adeline hadn't even crossed his mind amidst the dread sitting heavy in his stomach. Remus understood he had messed up, and the weight of his mistake hung heavy upon him.
“She left. I don’t blame her, I hurt her. Who gets a girlfriend when they have feelings for someone else?” A laugh escaped Remus, laden with incredulity. 
His words prompted you to avert your gaze, a subtle gesture betraying the unease settling in the pit of your stomach. The acknowledgment that his feelings for you still lingered left you with an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Silence settles between you both, and it's excruciatingly awkward.
“I’m falling in love with Sirius,” You blurt out, nervously stealing a glance at him, eager to gauge his reaction. “I just, I need you to know that there’s no way anything could’ve happened between us. A couple months ago it would’ve been entirely different. But I was devastated, Rem. Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you be with Adeline? How much that hurt? And then you just admit you have feelings in front of everyone no less, like it wasn’t a big deal. In front of your girlfriend, who clearly cares so much about you. I don’t understand.”
"Dorcas asked—" He began, his voice sounded shaky.
"But you could've passed, or chosen to say another old crush's name!" Your interjection cut through the air, sharp and pointed.
"But there wasn't anyone else." He countered, his words tinged with a hint of desperation.
"Remus." His name hung in the air, heavy with frustration. You sent him with a glare heavy with irritation, and the intensity of your gaze churned a nauseating knot in his stomach.
"I was jealous, okay? To see Sirius hold you and kiss you like I have always wanted was awful. I couldn’t get you out of my head, and then Dorcas asked, and I just said your name."
"Godric, Rem!" You huffed, frustration coloring your tone. "If you had just told me months ago, we could’ve avoided this entire mess." Remus opened his mouth to speak, but you interjected, your words tumbling out with raw emotion. "But at the same time? I’m so grateful that you didn’t tell me, and that Sirius was there, because then I would’ve missed out on a guy who was never afraid to show me that I was his first choice.”
Remus remained silent, his gaze fixed intently on his intertwined fingers. You sat tense on the couch beside him, the air heavy with unresolved tension.
Remus’ eyes are filled with tears when he turns to you, “I know there’s no chance for us anymore, but Y/n, I don’t want to lose you as my best friend. Not having you around the last couple months have been hard. I miss you, and I understand if you’re not ready for that or don’t even want to be my friend. But Y/n, I will do anything to make this up to you.”
 You felt a lump form in your throat, a wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. With a harsh sigh, you turned to Remus, your gaze a mixture of hurt and determination.
"Our friendship won't be fixed right away," you admitted, the words weighted with the frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface. "I'm still frustrated with you." You confessed, your voice tinged with the raw honesty of your emotions.
“Y/n, I’ll do everything to make it up to you. I know everything won’t go back to the way it was, but I just want to be your friend.” His words carry genuine remorse, and you crack.
“Remus, come here.” You extended your arms toward him and Remus engulfs you in his embrace, his fervor nearly knocking you off balance.
You're both holding onto each other tightly, finding comfort in having each other back. A few tears escape your eyes, tracing silent paths down your cheeks as you find solace in the warmth of his embrace.
"I missed you too." You mumble softly into his chest, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
The familiar ease you once shared with Remus doesn't return immediately, but both of you are committed to rebuilding your friendship, to rediscovering that ease and comfort your relationship used to provide. But the effort that is being made means the world to you. 
And so it begins with catching up on reading together. You sit beside Remus on the plush couch, matching copies of a book cradled in your hands as you both immerse yourselves in its pages. Nearby, Marlene and Lily are nestled by the crackling fire, engaged in animated conversation about Marlene's impending decision to finally ask Dorcas out. Peter lounges lazily in an armchair, a contented smile playing on his lips as he indulges in chocolates, his attention drifting between the gossip and the flickering flames.
Sirius's laughter rings out, drawing your gaze toward him like a magnet. You shift your focus to the common room entrance, where Sirius and James have just arrived, their hair still damp from their post-practice showers.
You sit up straighter, a subtle movement, that draws Remus's attention to you. Following your gaze, Remus's eyes shift in the direction of Sirius, who is in the midst of a hearty laugh spurred on by James's joke. However, as Sirius turns and locks eyes with you, his laughter fades into a tender smile, his expression melting into one of affection and adoration. James catches sight of Lily across the room and wastes no time in making his way over to her, his trademark mischievous grin already in place.
"James!" Lily cries out, her voice a mixture of exasperation and amusement, as she dodges away from the curly-headed boy who is shaking his dripping wet hair over her. Marlene's laughter fills the air, and Dorcas grins from beside her. Despite Lily's attempts to escape, James encircles his arms around her waist, drawing her back against his chest, his satifsfied grin matching her infectious laughter. 
“I can’t stand you, James Potter.” Lily sighs, leaning back against James and shaking her head disapprovingly.
Sirius laughs, watching Lily pretend to be annoyed with James, before settling into the seat beside you, a comfortable familiarity enveloping the space between you. When he leans in to press a gentle kiss against your lips, you instinctively lean into his touch, savoring the warmth of his affection. Remus's gaze momentarily drifts away, a subtle pang of jealousy tugging at his chest as he watches the way you lean into his best mate.
In truth, Remus found himself uncertain of his standing with Sirius. Him and Remus were limited in their interactions lately, both boys feeling tense around the other. Unbeknownst to you, Remus flinched involuntarily every time Sirius drew near to you, displaying his lingering feelings for you. Sirius, though not proud of it, found himself grappling with a twinge of possessiveness whenever Remus was close to you. 
Sirius pulled back slightly, a warm smile gracing his features as he met your gaze, "Hi, m'love." He murmured softly, his voice laced with affection and tenderness.
You couldn't help but return his grin, feeling a rush of warmth at his endearing greeting, "Hi." You replied, your voice filled with warmth and fondness, mirroring the affection reflected in his eyes.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" Sirius's voice broke the silence, his arm casually draping around your shoulder, drawing you into his side. Your book lay forgotten as his presence captivated your attention.
"Just some studying." You replied, the thought of books and lectures suddenly fading into insignificance.
Sirius leaned in closer, his lips grazing against your ear as he whispered, "I wanna take you somewhere tomorrow." The words stirred memories of a few months ago when you were seated on this very couch with him, grappling with the heartache of trying to move on from Remus.
"Will this be a date?" You asked, unable to contain the excitement bubbling in your voice.
"Yes, angel." Sirius replied, his words soft and tender as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. A radiant grin spread across your face as you reached for your book once more, the anticipation of the upcoming date dancing in your thoughts.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Almost a week slips by before you and Sirius manage to carve out time for a long-awaited date. As Sirius leads you on a walk, your heart swells with emotion when you realize he's taking you to the tulip field. Despite the lingering chill in the air, the sight of the vibrant flowers and the sun's gentle rays reflecting off Black Lake fills you with warmth.
"You're such a romantic." You giggle, leaning into Sirius even more. He responds with a bashful smile, his cheeks tinged pink. You're not sure if it's from the cold or your teasing.
"I didn't know if it would be a good place for a date or not." He admits, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment. He had spent the last week agonizing over where to take you. When he ranted to Peter about it, Peter simply shrugged and suggested Hogsmeade. Sirius had scoffed, his tone teasing yet earnest, telling him he better step it up if he wanted to impress a girl.
"Sirius, this is the cutest spot for a date. Plus, it has meaning to us." You tell him sincerely, and Sirius feels his heart flutter at the term us. He wonders if he'll ever get over the fact that he has his dream girl in his arms, looking at him the same way he looks at you.
As you draw closer, the perfumed air carries the unmistakable scent of spring, and the gentle buzzing of bumblebees near the flowers fills your ears. The sounds evoke a sense of nostalgia, transporting you back to your childhood days spent playing in the garden.
"Merlin, I was so stressed about it. I've never planned a date before. I mean, I've gone on dates, but I've never felt this determined to impress someone as much as I have with you," he sighs as if releasing all of his pent-up stress. "I even asked Peter where I should take you."
"Did you? Well, I think this is perfect." You grin, withdrawing your hand from his to lay out the blanket. The thought of crushing tulips under the blanket makes you cringe, so you search for a barren patch to place it over. With care, you shake out the blanket, letting it flutter gracefully before plopping onto it.
Leaning back on your palms, you watch Sirius, who remains standing where you left him, your copy of Pride and Prejudice in his hands. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you as if you're everything he's ever dreamed of.
"Are you going to join me or just stare?" You question, patting the spot next to you invitingly.
"I quite like staring at you." He grins, sending you his famous smile. 
He sits down next to you before laying back and allowing the sun to settle on his skin. The warmth of the rays feels comforting, especially after the last couple of days filled with rain. The melodic songs of birds in the surrounding trees and the sound of your gentle movements create a soothing ambiance, putting him at ease.
You shift, settling onto your back, your eyes tracing the patterns of the soft clouds as they leisurely drift across the vast expanse of the sky. The birds' playful chirps and flutters among the trees add to the serene atmosphere. Sirius follows suit, adjusting his position to face you. As he watches you, he's captivated by the delicate play of sunlight on your features, accentuated by the colorful tulips that bloom around you, adding a vibrant backdrop to the tranquil scene.
He can hardly believe that he's lying next to the girl of his dreams, the one he's thought of for years, yearning for even a moment of her attention. Memories flood back countless times when he watched you with Remus from afar, consumed by jealousy for the time Remus got to spend with you. He would have given anything for just a few minutes alone with you to share a moment that belonged solely to the two of you.
"I talked to Remus earlier today." You remark, his nose crinkling slightly with an involuntary pang of jealousy at the mention of his friend's name. It's become almost instinctual by now. 
"He apologized to Adeline," You start, your expression thoughtful. "He mentioned it started off rough, but in the end, she forgave him, and they wished each other the best."
He hums, “That’s good.”
You giggle, “That’s all?”
Sirius hums softly, propping himself up on his elbow as he gazes down at you. "I'm glad they've found that closure," he murmurs, his tone laced with a hint of distraction.
Feeling his unwavering focus, you gently divert your attention from the sky to meet his gaze. His eyes are locked onto yours with such intensity that it causes a flutter in your chest, leaving your breath caught in your throat. 
He lifts his hands, delicately brushing his thumb against your bottom lip. A small, involuntary sound escapes you, and Sirius responds with a devastating smile, a hint of playfulness dancing in his eyes.
"I don't want to talk about anyone else but us." He whispers, his voice filled with sincerity. His gaze softens as his fingers trace gently across your cheeks, his hand coming to rest on your face, his thumb tenderly brushing against your jawline.
"What about us in particular?" You inquire, the words escaping in a breathless whisper. Your heart quickens its pace, a rhythmic drumming echoing the intensity of the moment, a sensation that always accompanies Sirius's proximity. The air feels charged with anticipation, every nerve tingling with the electricity of his presence.
"I can't get enough of you," he confesses, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your cheek. "How you never leave my mind," he adds, tenderly planting a kiss on your other cheek.
"How you make my heart flip every time I look at you." His lips brush against your forehead before he leans down to rest his against yours. Your eyes flutter closed at his proximity, your body nearly buzzing from the giddiness and anticipation coursing through your veins.
"How my heart is entirely yours." His voice trembles slightly, revealing the depth of his emotions as he utters those heartfelt words, “And that I am hopelessly in love with you.”
Your eyes widen, catching his apprehensive gaze, his nerves evident as he awaits your reaction to his confession Without hesitation, you thread your fingers through his hair and gently pull him down to you, closing the distance between your lips and his in a sweet, affirming kiss.
Sirius lets out a moan, his thumb continuing to brush over your cheek as he deepens the kiss. The warmth of his lips against yours is accompanied by a gentle exploration, each movement conveying a depth of emotion and desire that leaves you breathless. The air is charged with an electric intensity, and in that moment, it feels like time stands still, allowing you to savor the overwhelming connection and longing between you.
You pull away just slightly, your voice trembling with emotion as you gaze into his eyes. In the hushed intimacy of the moment, surrounded by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds, you utter those three profound words, "I am so in love with you. "
Sirius lets out a disbelieving laugh, his smile widening as euphoria bubbles within him. Without hesitation, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a fervent and intense kiss that elicits a desperate moan from your lips. You've never experienced a kiss like this before, filled with such raw passion that it feels like every nerve in your body is set ablaze as if you could melt into him right there and then.
"Please be mine." Sirius pleads, his voice laced with longing and vulnerability against your lips. 
A tender smile graces your lips as you respond, your voice soft and filled with affection, "I'm already yours."
While nestled in the field of tulips, Sirius confesses to you that the very first tulip he gifted you was, in fact, a declaration of his love.
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madschiavelique · 3 days ago
Text
A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance
summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues
content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh
word count : 5,4k
author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.
masterlist : 1 — 2 — 3 — 4 — 5
(not proofread, english is not my first language ✦)
taglist : @doctorho
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For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.
The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.
When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.
He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.
In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.
The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.
“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”
Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.
When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.
He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.
“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”
Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.
“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”
You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.
“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”
Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”
You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.
“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”
“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”
“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”
You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?
“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”
He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.
The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?
“The evolution of Zaun's power?”
Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”
“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”
You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.
“Any questions?”
Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”
Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.
Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?
“Miss?”
The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.
“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”
He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.
You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.
“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?” you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.
“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.
You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”
His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.
“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”
A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.
He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”
“So you think I'm weak ?”
But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.
You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.
“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.
You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.
“Do I disgust you?” he asked.
The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.
If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.
When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.
“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”
He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.
“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.
He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.
“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.
As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.
He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.
Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.
You had to be flawless, you had to.
Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.
The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:
Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.
The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.
What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.
You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.
It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.
There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.
You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:
“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”
With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.
You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”
“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.
“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”
He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.
“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”
You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.
“Why?”
The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.
He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”
You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.
You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.
“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”
“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”
You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.
You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”
“Be my guess.”
Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”
He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”
You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.
“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”
He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”
You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.
“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”
He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.
“How do I bother you?”
You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.
“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.
He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.
“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”
You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.
“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”
You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.
“You want an honest answer ?”
He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.
“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”
It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.
He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.
Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.
“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”
“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”
Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.
“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.
“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.
“Why do you have to be like that?”
“Like what?”
You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.
“Better than me.”
He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.
“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”
He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.
“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”
You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.
“Running.”
He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.
“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”
“No it's-”
“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”
“I never-”
“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”
“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”
“With such a statement ? Never.”
“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.
He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.
“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.
“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.
“As if you could reach me.”
“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.
However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.
“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”
“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”
“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”
“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.
“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”
You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.
“None of the books mention Tytos.”
“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”
Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.
“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.
You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”
“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.
You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.
“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.
‘I'm sure that I-”
“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.
He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.
This one, however, was not about to give way.
You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.
“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”
This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence. 
You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing. 
Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.
It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you. 
When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.
“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.
All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.
You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.
You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals. 
You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.
However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked: 
“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”
Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.
But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.
“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”
A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.
He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.
“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”
But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.
He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.
Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.
“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”
You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.
“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.
But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.
You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.
‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.
He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.
"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.
Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.
“Everyone in my office, now.”
You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks. You recognised him now, the student from the museum, the one that had called zaunites rats.
"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.
You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.
"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.
If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.
"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’
He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.
"... My friend protected me."
Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.
The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case: 
"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."
Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.
"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.
"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.
"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.
"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"
You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say: 
"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."
Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.
"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.
"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."
"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.
"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"
Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.
"Good, see you on Monday, then."
The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.
"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"
Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.
"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."
He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.
You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.
Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.
“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.
You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”
"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.
You didn't even turn to him.
"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."
You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.
"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"
He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.
"We're not friends, Viktor." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."
But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?
You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.
"See you next week."
Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.
Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.
“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.
You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.
You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.
You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.
But you respected him.
Could you be friends with him?
The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.
You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.
Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.
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kikiiswashere · 2 days ago
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Four to Tango
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As promised, part two of Waltzing for Three!!!
Thank you for helping me reach 200 followers for this little ol' blog of mine 🥰 And welcome to all the newcomers!
The idea for this ficlet was born of watching my bestie @sand-sea-and-fable help out a pregnant friend by lifting her belly off her hips, and it just sort of spiraled from there.
It's also worth noting that I myself am not a mother, nor have I given birth, nor do I wish to be a mom (husband got the ol' snip-snip). So why this fic? Good question 😅
That being said, I did my best to write about the labor process relatively accurately without getting into the super nitty-gritty of it 😂 So, please enjoy this weird little fever-dream of a fic, and please comment and reblog 💗
Tags for the interested parties: @luhmoon, @legendaryflowercheesecake, @thebeserkvernid, @miffysoo
Pairing: Established Silco x AFAB!Reader
Rating: Teen/Mature (brief reference to oral sex)
CW: Non-graphic descriptions of pregnancy and labor
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Insistent cramping had woken you up in the wee-hours one morning, swelling and ebbing in a slow rhythm that sent your heart tapping, a loop of nerves coiling around your gut – little room that there was for it.
Silco had been a terribly light sleeper ever since Vander’s betrayal, ever since those early years on an under-tested Shimmer variant that left his brain unable to fully settle. So, the moment you shifted into a sitting position, he shot up as well.
“What’s wrong?”
Words got gummed up on fear and excitement in your mouth. There was a slight tremor in your fingers as they grazed over your belly. You had noticed it sitting even lower on your hips these past several days. While you were very done with being pregnant, you were still nervous and surprised to say –
“I think it’s time.”
With comical amounts of speed, but awe-inspiring grace, Silco flung himself from the bed, divesting himself of his eyepatch and pajamas. After changing into a simple set of trousers and an old button-up shirt, he fetched the stopwatch Jinx had invented to easily time your contractions, and wrote a tube prompting your midwife that she was needed. It had been decided early on that the babe’s delivery – barring any complications – would happen at The Last Drop. You, nor Silco, were willing to venture outside to a clinic when your family would be at its most vulnerable.
Too nervous to lay down, much less fall back asleep, you began pacing the large bedroom in your large sleep shirt. Every time a contraction locked up and spasmed through your lower belly and back, your fingers pressed the stopwatch’s clicker. And you breathed as the midwife had instructed. Silco kept you company, walking with you up and down the length of the bedroom, holding your hand and becoming an anchor to squeeze when contractions rolled through. Together, you both noted and kept track of their intervals. Their spacing  and length suggested that the little one’s arrival was not imminent, but the consistency indicated that this was indeed labor.
The midwife arrived, ushered in by a half-asleep Sevika. You’d bribed her with an absurd bonus and several pre-paid sessions at Babette’s for her to crash in one of the Drop’s private guest rooms during these last days of your pregnancy. She was needed for security, and to stand-in for Silco when his attention and priorities would be elsewhere.
“Good luck,” she’d grumbled, barely glancing at you before shutting the bedroom door, and trudging back down the hall.
The midwife was a petite, wizened Vastaya who’d been selected for her services not only because of her field prowess, but because she was staunch loyalist to you and Silco. Shimmer had helped save more than one of her clients when the birthing process had begun to go sideways, and that was enough for her to hitch her wagon to your agenda.
She was also direct to the point of rudeness – a personality trait that was wholly welcome given the slippery, hidden, self-serving rhetoric you were used to having to deal with.
“Time?” she asked, setting her medical bag down on your dresser with a heavy thunk.
“Forty-five seconds to a minute, about every seven minutes,” you answered. Then gasped and doubled over as another contraction bent you.
The midwife hummed. “How long?”
“About an hour,” Silco said. He squeezed back at your hand as you rode out the current wave rolling through.
Clucking her tongue, the midwife shook her head, long ears slapping lightly against her horns.
“Early.”
Silco frowned. “You are being more than thoroughly compensated to show up whenever we ask.”
“Indeed. To the bed, miss. Let’s have a look.”
Once your legs were freed from the lock of the contraction, you shuffled to the bed. Silco helped you into position, and the midwife closed in. Her fingers were warm, but the tools were cold. The combination, along with your nerves, caused your lungs to shudder.
“Five,” she declared, drawing her head from between your thighs.
“That’s halfway,” you chuckled weakly. Silco brushed his thumb over your knuckles
The midwife hummed in agreement. “True. But as discussed, this process is not linear. And being your first delivery, it is very likely this will take a while. How is the pain?”
“Fine. Manageable.” It came out as a grit, but she didn’t seem to doubt you.
“You should eat and drink while you can. Is there anything else you want or need right now?”
Together, you and Silco walked to the small kitchen in your private quarters. You rested your forearms on the counter as the length of your spine hammocked behind you, hips gently swishing side-to-side. Silco kept the breakfast blissfully simple: toast with a light slather of butter, and a mug of warmed water with lemon.
Eating was slow going. Between the jitters and contractions, your appetite was seriously curbed. When you finally made it to the second piece of toast, Jinx shuffled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and bed-headed. Her bedraggled demeanor did not last long though, as her whip-quick senses tuned into the energy of the space. Big, blue eyes tracked between Silco – unusually underdressed – and your strange posture. One could nearly hear the cogs in her head clicking and whirring.
“Is it time?!”
In a flash, she clambered onto the stool next to you, bright and tittering. Her exuberance washed over you in a relieving breeze. Reaching over, you ran a hand through her unkempt hair.
“Sure is, kiddo.”
“When will he be here?”
“Could be a while yet, Jinx,” Silco answered. He set a glass of juice in front of her. “What would you like? Toad-in-the-hole? Porridge? Pancakes?”
“Make ‘em have a face!” she crowed.
A hook of a smile pulled at Silco’s mouth as he turned back toward the stove.
Jinx settled onto the stool; legs kicking merrily beneath her as she sipped her juice.
“What does it feel like?”
“Like intense menstrual cramps.”
Her small face squished in a ponder. While you had had that conversation with her, Jinx had yet to broach into that aspect of puberty. Thus, she had no point of reference.
“Kinda like when you roof-run after eating, and your abs cramp up,” you offered. “Kind of.”
A contraction swelled upon you, and you grit your teeth, face pinching, head dropping. Silco stepped away from the stovetop, and placed a grounding hand between your shoulder blades. Jinx watched, eyes wide and worried. Timidly, she shifted toward you, pressing her forehead to your shoulder.
The pain continued, but was temporarily numbed by the overwhelming love and gratitude for the two people on either side of you.
Your family.
It was never part of the plan when it came to your Silco’s ideas to lift Zaun up, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. And in a few hours, three would be four. Your heart beat big, tapping against your throat as the contraction passed. You clicked the stopwatch.
“That seems worse than roof-run cramps,” Jinx said suspiciously.
You chuffed. “Like I said: Kind of.”
Silco rubbed his hand up and down your spine a few times, before kissing your temple and returning to the stove.
“You remember what we talked about?” you asked Jinx.
She fiddled with her hair, nodding. “I can come and go as I please.”
“Right. If you want to be with us, I want you to be there. If you don’t, that’s fine, too. You get to decide, and it doesn’t have to be right now.”
Jinx nodded again, eyes staring into the middle-distance. Reaching over, you brushed your fingers through her hair again. Her eyes snapped back to yours.
“Are you scared?”
You gave her a reassuring smile.
“No. I’m happy.”
It wasn’t a lie. But a few hours later, your happiness was thoroughly overshadowed by the pain of labor. It was staggering how it had intensified. How it was becoming near non-stop as the space between contractions shortened and shortened. Gravity felt impossible to contend with on top of everything else, so you sank onto your bedroom floor with a low, guttural growl.
Silco had been attentive throughout, anticipating your needs before you even voiced them. Ever your anchor, your source for steadiness. Even now, on your hands and knees, his own wide palms settled onto your hips and pressed in. It pulled an appreciative groan from your throat.
“You’re doing so well, my love.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
Your eyes flicked to the bathroom door where Jinx was helping the midwife prepare a warm bath. You were proud of your girl. Admittedly, part of you doubted she would choose to stick around once labor became loud and more intense. When you could no longer keep yourself from crying out, hesitancy had flickered in her eyes, and her brows pitched in concern. But instead of dashing away, she’d reached for your hand and held tight.
“Is there anything you can give her?” she’d asked the midwife incredulously.
The female had smirked, impressed and moved by the girl’s protectiveness of you.
“I have mild pain relievers, but nothing that will fully numb – “
“Shimmer?”
The midwife’s black lips thinned. “That is only to be used in emergencies,” she explained. “It is too potent and powerful to be used for anything other than the most extreme circumstances. Which – “her eyes looked up at your haggard form on the bed – “does not seem probable. Her labor is progressing as it should. There is nothing to worry about.”
Jinx frowned, doubtful, and hunkered closer to your side.
“Seems like a dumb design that it hurts so much.”
“Agreed,” you wheezed.
“Come,” the midwife said, “let’s check you.”
She declared you’d progressed to eight centimeters. That had been three hours ago. And the pain just continued to climb and build.
A small sob burst through your teeth. Silco knelt at your side, quietly saying your name.
“I’m scared, Sil,” you admitted in a whisper. You were thankful Jinx wasn’t near to hear you back-pedal. Your breath hitched and words tumbled out: “I don’t know if I can do this.”
He took your warm and tear-streaked face between his hands, and repeated your name.
“Look at me.”
Reluctantly, your tired and wet eyes focused on his face. He looked at you with fierce earnestness, thumbs sweeping across the apples of your flushed cheeks. Suddenly, part of you grieved that the baby would never know Silco without his scars. Or yours. Outside and in.
Silco called your name again.
“Look at me,” he repeated. Your eyes slid back to his. Blue and red pinned you in place. “You can do this. I’ve not met anyone more tenacious, nor strong, nor as spirited as you. Those are but a few of the reasons I fell in love with you so long ago.” His eyes softened now; his adoration made plain. “You’ve absolutely no reason to doubt yourself.”
A small hiccup bubbled from your mouth, and you pressed your face into the warmth of his palm, breathing him in deeply. Not having properly dressed for the day, he hadn’t put any cologne on. The natural terra-sweet scent of his skin filled your nose. You were grateful for his support, respect, and belief in your abilities. A sudden, silly thought flitted across your mind.
“Not my dance moves?”
A single amused breath huffed from his throat. That infinitesimal smirk – one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with him – appeared on his lips. His blue eye flashed; as it often did when an idea struck him. Silco lifted to his feet, and used a strong grip to pull you to yours. He guided your arms to loop around his shoulders and neck, while his went to your low back. A weary chuckle left you as you understood. Your cheek was a relieved, heavy weight against his shoulder. It had to be a strange sight, this dance configuration: with your body slouched against his, massive belly hanging between you two. Slowly, your feet began gently shifting side-to-side.
“Admittedly,” he murmured against your crown, “your dance moves leave something to be desired right now.”
You laughed, even as another contraction swelled within you. Silco’s hands firmed up on your body, holding you upright as it moved through your body.
“I’ll make it up to you,” you hissed as most of the pain subsided. It was such now that there was no longer any real relief.
“A dance and a suck job? Lucky me.”
Your fingers pinched Silco’s upper back, and you felt the tremor of silent laughter in his shoulders.
“Tub’s ready!” Jinx sang as she flounced out of the bathroom.
Managing to smile at her, despite another great, contracting swell that threatened to bring you to your knees, you took her hand. Silco kept a strong arm wrapped around your middle, and you followed Jinx into the humid warmth of the bathroom.
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The water helped. Its heat soothed your pained muscles and aching bones. The irony was not lost on you that you found peace in it. After a few minutes of settling into the tub, you gave Silco a look that to anyone else may have seemed like nothing. But he caught the message in your eyes, and tucked himself close to the tub’s edge, taking your hand. Jinx huddled herself into his lap, nervously fingering the buttons on his shirt.
About an hour later, the midwife’s large ears flicked in your direction as the quality of your breath shifted, as the sounds leaving you turned deeper and more animal. Her deft hands slipped into the water and between your legs.
“Something changed,” you gasped, hunching slightly. “It feels like – “
“It’s time,” she said, pulling her hands from the water. Somehow, she’d also stripped your underwear off in the same movement without you noticing. “It’s time to push.”
Push. The word settled into your body with a deep, innate knowing.
Yes. That’s what you were feeling. The near uncontrollable need to bare down. An old, predetermined instinct washed over you. You could do this.
But you did not want to do it alone.
“Sil.”
The grit of his name and the way you shifted yourself forward spurred your partner into understanding. Swiftly, he stood, deposited Jinx onto the stool he’d vacated, and then stepped into the tub, sliding in behind you. Settling against his chest, your hand ferociously intertwined with his. His heart beat firmly against your back.
“You can do this,” he whispered into your ear.
“Give me your other hand, dear,” the midwife said. You did so and she guided it under the water, preparing you to feel and catch. “Push.”
“Push! Push!” Jinx cried, her little fists pumping and bopping in the air madly.
Gritting your teeth, you did just that. A sound you didn’t know you were capable of making burst from your lungs. When the air ran out, you slumped against Silco’s chest.
“Breath in,” the midwife demanded. You did so. “Push!”
You did again, a roar ripping from your chest. A roar that ended in a surprised yip as something into your hand.
“Again,” the midwife demanded.
And you complied, baring down with everything you had. With all the might and tenacity and power your body could exert. Another battle cry echoed off the bathroom tiles, and a solid weight slid into your hand. You ripped your other hand from Silco’s grip, and pulled a wriggling newborn from the water.
“It’s a boy!” Jinx yelled, bouncing up and down in her seat.
Her brother’s face squidged, and his pink mouth opened in an announcing wail. You joined in and pulled the babe to your chest. Silco went very still behind you, scarcely breathing. Then his hands appeared over yours, cradling the baby at your chest. Like on the night you’d taken in Jinx, he pulled his legs up around you both and held tight.
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Later, once the placenta had passed (something Jinx was equally horrified and enthralled by) you were helped out of the tub, and cleaned. The midwife tied off the babe’s umbilical cord, and once some time passed, you watched with an incredibly full heart as Silco severed it.
You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen the expression on your partner’s face. A soft, careful, wonderous thing. Then it hit you all at once. You were watching Silco fall in love. The notion took your breath away and fresh tears welled in your eyes. Jinx clung to you, and you to her.
“Thank you for being with me, Jinx. It helped.”
The girl beamed up at you, holding on tighter.
“I think it is your turn for a shower, sir,” the midwife said, twisting off the umbilical nub.
Silco watched her hands like a hawk as she did. He slid in once she finished, and wrapped him in a blanket Jinx had decorated. It was a small thing, but you caught the tremor in his hands. Keeping Jinx tucked against your side, you came to stand next to him.
“He’ll be here when you get out of the shower,” you whispered, voice hoarse.
“Yeah! Go get the baby juice off you!” Jinx ordered.
Silco’s expression of awe turned to one of bemusement as he glanced at your daughter.
“Yes. I suppose I should.”
Your own hands shook a bit as you gathered your son – your son! You wondered if the shock would wear off – and ushered Jinx to follow the midwife out of the bathroom.
With no small amount of effort, your body, beyond sore and exhausted, climbed into bed. The baby cooed and nuzzled and fussed against your chest as you settled into the pillows and duvet. Jinx climbed in on the opposite side, and snuggled close.
“He’s already sleeping!”
“It’s hard work being born. Don’t you remember?” you chuckled.
Jinx laughed, “No!”
A small smile curled the midwife’s mouth as she snapped her bag shut. She turned to you and bowed her head.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” you said, eyes on your boy. Then you lifted them to hers, and said again, “And thank you.”
She nodded again, horns catching the light in the room.
“It was my honor.”
She gave you and the baby one last cursory check over, and took her leave.
A few moments after she left, there was a knock on the door, and Sevika stuck her head in.
“Ogre!” Jinx cried. “I gotta brother!”
Even Sevika’s presence couldn’t dampen Jinx’s mood.
Silco’s lieutenant grunted, and stepped over to the bed. She stayed at a distance though, craning her neck to peer down at you and the baby.
“Yep. That’s a baby. Congrats.”
“Thank you, Sevika.”
Behind her, Silco emerged from the foggy bathroom in a fresh pair of slacks and an unbuttoned shirt. Sevika tilted her strong chin in his direction and he nodded back.
“I’ll leave you all to it then,” she said.
Her poncho twirled as she spun back to leave. As she and Silco crossed paths, a metal finger tip whipped out from beneath the red fabric, and poked his bare belly. He jolted and shuddered. He sneered at her, but she just snickered and slipped out of the room.
Silco shook his head, damp hair beginning to curl at the ends. He rounded the bed, and climbed in, sandwiching Jinx between your bodies. He leaned over the girl’s head and kissed you.
“What’re we gonna name him?” Jinx pipped.
You and Silco exchanged a look.
“I’m not sure,” you admitted.
“I’m sure we’ll come up with something.” he added.
Immediately, Jinx began rattling off all her suggestions.
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Before a name could be decided, you fell asleep. Jinx followed shortly after; her plump cheek pressed against your shoulder. Gingerly, Silco lifted the baby from your arms, and brought him to his bare chest. The boy tensed, and then melted, a small wispy sigh leaving him.
Silco melted, too; a foreign, near indescribable softness filling him up. He brought his hand to the boy’s back, its length and width nearly covering all of him. His son was so small.
His son. His son.
Emotions gripped him so intensely he nearly choked.
Elation, love, fear.
Grief.
There was grief that his child was born technically as a citizen of Piltover. But that anguish was small compared to the other one that had been tucked away in the scar tissue of Silco’s heart ever since you had told him of the pregnancy. A pain that he hated he harbored.
The secret grief was that Vander wasn’t here to see this. The grief that his Brother had ruined any chance of participating in this milestone. The grief of Vander’s death (justified though it was) was scratched open as Silco’s son lay on his heart. The grief that, had things gone differently, Silco would’ve named the boy after his Brother.
“Sil.”
Silco’s head whipped around at the sound of your voice. Your beautiful, exhausted, beautiful face shone up at him. There was a smile on your lips that he wished to taste, so he leaned over Jinx’s head again and pressed his mouth to yours. 
“I told you you could do it,” he whispered leaning back. You smiled and nodded wearily.
The baby grunted and shifted against Silco’s chest, and he pet the back of his head so, so softly. It broke your heart into a million pieces, and then they jumped right back together. Your eyes slid back up to your partner’s profile.
You felt his grief, because it was yours, too.
“I know, Silco,” you whispered. He looked over to you. Jinx snored softly between. “I wish it had been different, too.”
Silco’s eyebrow dropped, and his lips softened. He glanced down at the baby on his chest, and chuckled ruefully.
“I truly don’t know what to name him.”
You shrugged. “We’ll figure it out.”
He nodded. You sat in silence for a while, listening to your children breath. Jinx’s raspy breaths and the baby’s snuffling. It was music to your ears. You would never tire of hearing it.
Just as you were about to doze again, you felt Silco’s energy shift. Eyes sharpening onto him, you watched as he first gently ran his fingers over Jinx’s freckled cheek. Then, so carefully, he lifted the baby from his chest so he could look at his small face.
“You and your sister will have better than we did,” he promised. “Me and your mother will give you a nation.”
Your son’s eyes fluttered open and closed, the bud of his mouth stretching into what looked like a small smile. Your throat tightened horribly, and you tucked your nose into Jinx’s crown.
When you were sure you could speak without choking, you lifted your head and said, “We promise.”
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I hope part two scratched the itch <3 If you enjoy my work and would like to support me (firstly, THANK YOU!) check out my Ko-Fi page!
ko-fi.com/kiki13
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saras-almanac · 3 days ago
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So I’ve been sitting on my feelings about the BuckTommy breakup and handling of it for a while, trying to get my thoughts in order. And after a while of thinking on it—and the recent Lou interview dropping making me feel like my feelings are valid—kind of made me want to just blurt them all out and hope for the best. So this is that.
Ultimately the entire handling of the BuckTommy breakup feels cruel. And not just cruel in an intentional way, but cruel in a casually, not even given any thought cruelty, which is worse sometimes. And to be honest, I think that’s part of why I’ve been struggling with it so much. (That and the echoes of Magicians season 4, which if you know you know).
What I mean by cruelty is just the lack of any real effort or care put into this storyline, one that they had previously been handled with so much care and concern and were praised (rightly so) for at the time. It’s the way they introduce this Tommy as Abby’s ex thing, which makes hardly any sense at all, but also feels cruel in the intention of laughing at the invisible string of fate theory between them. It’s they way that they’re 6 months anniversary and not only have they not talked about this, but Buck (Evan Buckley) didn’t get him a gift that feels cruel because that feels so wildly out of character for him. It’s the way they had the break up play into some bisexual stereotypes at best and inherently biphobic at worst by having Maddie suggest Abby turned him gay or that Buck needs to “explore” things to figure out what he wants or that Buck “Doesn’t know what pond to jump back into” of it all. (Not to mention the comments from OS about wanting Buck to fuck—which I’m not getting into because I didn’t read it and as a bisexual woman, don’t feel the need to go and try to find something that might upset me more.)
All those reasons are why the breakup itself is cruel to the characters, but it’s also cruel to those of us watching, and especially to anyone and everyone who loved and/or related to the character of Tommy, who we see walk away much much worse off than when we found him. It’s the way the story (intentionally or not) is framing it like a romcom break up – make up – pining storyline which they apparently are not doing according to interviews. It’s the way they didn’t give any sort of closure to Tommy for the character or for the audience.
There’s a reason that people lose themselves in stories—it’s because they follow certain rules and contracts. It’s expected that stories do not match up to real life because while things don’t have bigger meanings in life or they don’t work out according to plan, in stories, everything happens for a reason. Because that’s the whole point of what you’re consuming. And along with that, emotional moments are meant to feel cathartic in a way, at least eventually, because you were able to see the bigger picture, to feel the finality to things, and to really understand what’s being said and what’s happening. This breakup does none of that and actually seems to have been included and rushed for shock value and that to me, is just shitty, lazy writing.
If you were going to break them up and have no desire for any sort of reunion or closure, why not make it intentional? Tommy could be the one who wants marriage and kids and settling down and Buck internally freaks out because theoretically he wants that but maybe it’s too soon and as much as Tommy loves Buck, he’s not going to wait around and hope that Buck feels the same for him because he’s been hurt too many times like that. Or Tommy could be leaving for another state because he’s no longer going to be a firefighter or needs to go for family reasons or gets a job at a different station that he applied for ages ago and he has everything all set up and isn’t going to ask Buck to leave his entire life for Tommy, so they decide to breakup even if it hurts both of them. In either of those cases, it’s sad and devastating, but at least there would be some closure to it and understanding of it for both the characters and the audience and some peace knowing that at least these two are going to be moving toward happiness in whatever way that means for them.
Instead, what we have, is a hail-mary last-second breakup that comes out of nowhere and feels abrupt and crappy in the way we leave Tommy specifically because we might never see him again. And that is the crux of the issue. Because the way this was written, the understanding is that they are going to get back together or reunion or at least have that final closure conversation—because that’s what happens in stories. We see this type of surprise breakups, breakups where they issue is they love each other too much and are afraid to go further (Athena/Bobby and Maddie/Chimney to name two examples we saw in universe) only to eventually fight to be together and realize that if they don’t take a chance they might never know how amazing it is. So the fact that it’s set up to follow this same path while nearly every interview is telling the opposite, again demonstrates that casual cruelty as well as an inherent failure on the writing. If you have to go in interview and explain what it is you wrote or are telling, then you have failed as a writer. It’s really as simple as that.
This breakup doesn’t feel set up or foreshadowed, it just feels like they added it on because they didn’t want to do anything more with it? And that feels incredibly crappy as a decision to so many people who related to Buck and Tommy and them coming out later in life and all those other things. I’m rambling and on my phone and feeling a lot of things that I can’t fully express right now, but the long and short of it: If this was always intended to be the final time we see Tommy, this breakup is even crueler than intended.
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sanctuaryroses · 2 days ago
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This is the kind of stuff that makes me feel sick to my stomach no matter how many times I come across it. Even if she had „wanted“ some of it, which she a 100% didn’t, that would’ve been taking advantage of a unstable mentally ill person within crisis. Makes me wonder had Armin meiwes consensually cannibalised a woman not a man would he have gotten away with it?
Im sorry for going on that tangent given that she very obviously did not want or consent to any of it, however, and I know the ppl pulling that as an excuse don’t believe it either. But if we go with that excuse for a second, wouldn’t someone asking for literal beatings til inner bleedings fall into a category of ppl that need to be protected from themselves? I can’t quite wird what l mean. It’s kind of a dumb thing to get hung up on given everything there.
But it’s insane to me that when u want to kill yourself u get admitted to a psych ward for being a danger to yourself, but if you as a woman were to „ask“ to have bleach put in ur face, chemicals inserted into your vagina and be beaten to such an extreme degree, that would be a sane and mentally sound thing to want? Doing these things to someone wouldn’t be taking advantage of someone’s urge to harm themselves or whatever?
Like I don’t know. They’re so quick to sexualise even the theoretical idea of a woman wanting to be hurt that they don’t consider that that in itself would look incredibly bad for the husband in my opinion.
Ik it’s a weird thing to point out here but it’s bothering me so much that they can use smth as an excuse that just by default shouldn’t work as an excuse even if she had said yes.
There’s just a lvl of readiness to jump on women’s self hatred and urge to harm themselves in that that’s just as uncanny to me as people seriously using the Defense that she must’ve wanted it even though even if you claim bdsm, almost nothing he did lines up with bdsm games, all he did was torture her whilst at most she maybe was afraid to say no out of fear of worse torture.
How much do ppl want to spit on a death woman that got brutally tortured to death? That she chose this? That she could’ve chosen this?
That’s just a lvl of dehumanisation that even nowadays is hard for me to accept as being so normalised.
 Please write to the Attorney General and demand a review of this case. We have 28 days to lodge appeals. Attorney General, Geoffrey Cox QC 5-8 The Sanctuary, London SW1P 3JS or [email protected]
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amorgansgal · 1 day ago
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A Moment in Moonrise Towers Library
Big thank you to @12thhouse-sun for letting me be inspired by their fic you're at the top of my lungs (a wonderful Gale x Tav fic and is well worth a read) and allowing me to write a smutty scene involving Gale x Female reader in the Moonrise Tower library post Ketheric fight! Hope you enjoy this homage.
CW: Sexual content, touch of dominance/submission, very brief mentions of blood and injury
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The portal Dame Aylin had conjured led you all back to the doorway that you had first gone through to reach the eponymous towers that made up Moonrise. You stumbled a little on the first step, your heart was still racing after the battle, your skin covered in bruises, sweat and blood - some of yours, some of the other creatures you had fought. So while you longed for a good hot bath, some bread and cheese, and your bedroll, you knew you’d be unlikely to sleep with how shaky you felt. 
Thankfully your lover, Gale, caught hold of your arm, stopping yourself from falling flat on your face down the rest of the stairs. It would hardly do for a conquering hero to make a bit of a fool of themselves! You were about to crack a similar joke to Gale while thanking him for coming to your aid, but on turning to him, and catching his gaze, you faltered. 
His eyes were dark, much darker than even their usual warm brown depths would be, and the slight flair of his nostrils and tightened grip on your arm made you pause. He inhaled sharply as though he longed to press his nose against your neck and you remembered how he had once said he found you utterly desirable in the heat of battle with your muscles glistening! At the time you had, more or less, dismissed the notion as just a bit of silly flirting, a little bit of fun with not much to it… but given how he was staring at you, as though he would practically devour you… maybe he had been skirting around the truth. Or… well… pointing you directly at it!
Gale’s tongue darted out to wet his lips and you saw him shift his weight, curving his back a little and finally letting go of your arm to rearrange his robes. You glanced down, then cursed yourself for doing something so stupid in front of the others, though thankfully everyone seemed to be distracted and were already moving off to go back down to the main hall. But you were quite certain that Gale was hard. 
You tried to act like you hadn’t even noticed and began to follow the others along the hallway to the stairs, but before you could catch up Gale took hold of your arm again and whisked you into what had been Moonrise Tower’s library before you could even let out a cry of surprise. The door was shut behind you and you didn’t even have a chance to ask, ‘Gale, what are you doing?’ He pressed his body tightly against yours and was kissing you as though you might disappear, his hands cupping your face, running down your sides, round your back until you were flush against him and he was grinding his hard length into you. 
The growing ache between your thighs made you whimper against his mouth and suddenly he pulled you round the corner of bookshelves to where Z’rell’s desk was. An absolutely devilish gleam entered Gale’s eyes and he pushed all of the books, papers, quills and so forth that had been scattered on there onto the floor. 
He grinned. ‘I’ve always wanted to do that, but hesitated when it came to my own desk!’
A laugh bubbled up in your chest, but Gale easily picked you up and then plonked you down on the desk, his lips continuing their onslaught of passion and desire as he kissed down your jaw and neck. ‘Gods, I was so worried about you,’ he murmured.
‘I was fine,’ you said softly, your head tipped back, enjoying the kisses he was burning into your skin. ‘We did it, we defeated him.’
‘I’ll never not worry about you, my love. And the moment the battle was done, I wanted nothing more than to take you into my arms, to claim you, to become one with you-’
‘Well I’m glad you waited until we found a private spot, I’m not sure how the others would feel about that, but we should get downstairs…’
Gale outright growled and you let out a breathless laugh as his fingers eagerly scrabbled with the ties on your breeches, tugging them down to your ankles. ‘Gale!’ you cried out quietly, but he seized your mouth in another passionate kiss till you felt like he was trying to pull every bit of air from your lungs and leave you dizzy. 
‘Shh, my love, we have to be quick.’
‘Gale!’ you whispered, attempting to be scandalised that he was actually considering this: fucking you desperately and quickly in the quiet, dark library while your companions, friends and allies were downstairs. When in truth it sent a shiver of desire coursing through you and the brief touch of his fingers against your cunt made it downright clear how sopping wet you were just from the delicious notion of him claiming you after a battle, how much it turned you on seeing his dark, wild look. 
He smiled, triumphantly, wickedly, his beautiful brown eyes gleamed in the half light and finally his clever fingers slipped between your thighs, drenching themselves in your slick and circling your clit till you let out a pathetic whimper and instinctively bucked against his touch. 
‘Gods damn,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust. ‘Evidently I’m not the only one who finds a scrape with death inspiring!’ 
‘Gale!’ you whined and felt his soft chuckle of laughter, as he pressed kisses to your throat, his fingers easily slipping inside of you, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit, making you thrust your hips, needily seeking out your pleasure. 
‘You’re so wet,’ he whispered, his voice tickling your ear. ‘Did I do that, my love? Do you want me to take you here, fuck you on this desk, claim the hero of Reithwin?’
You didn’t even have it in you to argue that the whole group were the heroes of Reithwin and of course, he was utterly to blame for the slick between your thighs, the domineering, passionate kiss he had given you made you weak with longing. You nodded pathetically and eagerly reached for him, uncaring whether anyone downstairs noticed your absence or whether they would try to look for you. You pushed aside his robe, unlacing him and freeing his hard cock from the confines of cloth. Gale hissed as your hand stroked him, smearing down the precum that beaded at the end of his cock down the length.
‘Be quick,’ you demanded and his smile widened. He placed your hand back on the desk, then found your slit once more with his fingers, sliding one inside and making you drop your head back to moan.
‘Quiet, darling, you don’t want anyone to hear us,’ he murmured, though he was still looking very pleased with himself and you were quite certain he did not care a jot whether anyone else heard your cries of pleasure. There had already been a few teasing comments and displeased looks from your companions on a couple of occasions when you hadn’t been able to bite back your moans in camp. Gale rarely tried to stifle his either and kept up a running stream of how good you looked, how much he wanted you, how wonderful you felt, how badly he needed to hear your pleasure. 
He slid his cock back and forth against your slit, then easily sunk into you, his fingers tightly digging into your thighs, his groan buried against your neck and turning into a sharp bite. You gasped at the sensation and whimpered at the feel of his long cock nestled deep inside you. His warm tongue laved at the mark now left on your neck, soothing it. 
‘Gods, I will never get used to how good you feel,’ Gale said, then slowly pulled his hips back, till just an inch of him was left inside you and then quickly thrusting into you, making the desk jolt underneath you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, wanting him closer, but he suddenly pushed you down on the desk and draped your arms back so you were clinging to a corner of the desk. 
‘Keep those legs wrapped tightly around me, my love,’ he said, then placed a hand against a nearby bookshelf and began to fuck you, hard and fast. 
It was relentless, desperate, the culmination of all the emotions and fear you had felt during battle, a deep seated need to touch and make sure the other person was alive and well, the adoration and love you felt for one another. The bookshelf creaked under Gale’s clenched grip, the desk groaned and you cared nothing at all if anyone heard you. You moaned loudly as Gale’s other hand returned to your clit, stroking and circling it quickly, bringing you almost painfully to your pleasure, an inescapable wave and rush of utter bliss. 
He continued to thrust into you, his eyes gazing down on you, drinking you in, his brow furrowed a little, his breath coming short and fast, his groans joining yours in a cacophony of lust in the quiet library. Finally he almost collapsed onto you, the last few thrusts were short but deep, pressing himself all the way inside you, Gale panting against your cheek, his eyes closed, a few unthinking kisses pressed against your cheek and jaw and lips. Then he was still, the warm weight of his body over yours, your legs still wrapped around him.
‘Gods, I needed that,’ Gale murmured, his throat sounded a little rough and dry. ‘I needed you.’ He gently cupped your face and then kissed you, now so sweetly and gentle that it felt almost impossible to think that desperate, domineering man who had yanked you into the library and this soft, sweet man were one and the same. ‘You are so beautiful, so wondrous, everything about you… gods… it’s beyond words, beyond any magic I could conjure, you are…’
‘Shh,’ you whispered. ‘You are incredible too,’ you leaned your head back again and got your breath back. ‘That was good… very good.’
‘Not too fast?’
‘I liked it fast. I liked how much you wanted me.’
‘Oh, you have no idea!’ Gale chuckled, then manoeuvred himself off you and offered a hand to help you up. He gave you one last searing kiss, his arm wrapped around your waist when he felt your knees buckle a little. He then rested his forehead against yours and you breathed in the scent of him, even if he did smell slightly of sweat, blood and ash. ‘I love you, my dearest, darling heart,’ he said.
‘I love you too.’
You both quickly tidied yourself away and headed back downstairs to join the others. At first you thought that maybe no one had missed you, that everyone was so busy talking and celebrating the battle being won and done, that you had timed your little jaunt well. But as you walked down the stairs Astarion caught your eye. He raised an all too familiar mocking eyebrow and smirked. 
‘Where were you?’ he asked.
‘Just seeing if there was anything in the library worth taking,’ you muttered, avoiding his gaze.
‘Well evidently you found something worth the taking!’ he teased, pointedly staring at Gale who had been pulled into a conversation with Jaheira and Halsin. ‘Or was it Gale who did the taking?’
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bonefall · 2 hours ago
Note
if you're stretching for shadowclan cats to use:
antpelt is mistakenly listed as from shadowclan in battles of the clans, and the wiki had him as a different character for a while. he also has an unnamed apprentice
shredtail is also mistakenly listed in shadowclan during bramblestar's storm
I am absolutely at the point where I'm willing to make absolutely ABSURD stretches. I'm affectionately calling all the extra cats I'm scrounging up from writer mistakes and background scenes "ShadowClan's Glitch Warriors." Thank you so much for pointing these three out, they're going in the list.
Suddenly, I was struck with an absolutely hilarious idea. Partner wanted something fun to draw but still has read absolutely nothing about Warriors, so I pitched;
"I will tell you nothing about these characters or who they are except their names. Draw a Shredtail, an Antpelt, and Antpelt's apprentice. TOTAL freedom over the designs here."
First they drew this lmao,
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"This is a joke," they clarified
"NO I LOVE IT," I said, "KEEP GOING"
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So we got Dollar Tree Shredtail, Great Value Antpelt, and the best thing I've ever seen in my life. Once they put these designs down, we talked personality and differentiators from the canon counterparts while they colored and refined them;
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I loved the bushy gaster tail so much that I swore on the spot I was going to work it upwards into a whole bloodline, including the very obscure background warrior in AVOS, Wasptail. So even though they're mentor and apprentice in BOTC, I've decided these two will also be related. Probably siblings, or auncle/nespring.
The little black one is based off an Admiral Butterfly (it was my idea to make the little spots on their chest look like medals), so the name seems clear to me. Admiralpaw. Xey'll be meewa unless another gender works better; and I'm planning for xem to go out during a bloody battle against The Kin in true admiral style.
(funfact; admiral butterflies are extremely territorial. Males fight each other for control of a plant to attract females to.)
Warrior name is still undecided, though. Open to suggestions, leaning towards Admiralflight or Admiralflower.
Not-Antpelt I'm having name troubles with. I REALLY wanted to name them Majorheart, after a major ant, to keep the "military ranking + bug" pun that Addy's got... but it seems that none of the ants in this area would have a major caste. B'awww.
In the meanwhile, Antspot works fine. Alatefang or Dronepelt could work, too. Feel free to shout out suggestions, this guy's name and gender aren't set in stone.
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Lastly, here's Diet Shreddy. Girl now <3
She is 100% going to be killed during The Battle of the True Eclipse, keeping consistent with the mistake in Bramblestar's Storm where Blackstar mournfully calls out the name of a Dark Forest warrior. I'm also undecided on if the actual Shredtail himself dies during that battle in BB, it might just be her.
In any case, she's probably going to be a TPB girl. If she's born during Brokenstar's time, she's one of the younger ShadowClan cats to take part in the WindClan Massacre. Might even be an early apprentice at the time, in a similar situation to Badgerfang (though in BB this was a one-time thing). If not during Brokenstar, then sometime during Nightstar's brief reign.
Right now she has no family, she's in my "reserves" at the side to use as a patch between generations. Her name is probably going to be either Tattertail or Shredclaw, given as an Honor Title after the Battle of BloodClan.
So she had a previous warrior name as well. She seems like the kind of troublemaker who would have the prefix Sike-- a small stream that dries up in summer. Sikestripe, if her name was given by Nightstar, or Sikestrike, if it was given by Tigerstar. Maybe it was one and then the other, in a sign of disrespect to his predecessor's lie.
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jaegeraether · 2 days ago
Text
Sunsets and footballers (Part 99)
Lucy Bronze x Reader (75) / Alexia Putellas x Character (51) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (28)
Masterlist (other parts here)
((5k))
Apologies for the delay. Appreciate you all!
ALEXIA POV
Everything faded around her. She couldn’t see anything but Ridley’s limp body lying several metres away. She didn’t care about a gun. About the security fighting the man into restraint. Into Blau crying out, or Lucy yelling.
There was only her.
She felt herself moving, scrambling over anything and everything to get to her.
Please no. Please. Please!
Her vision blurred with tears.
Please. Anyone but Ridley. I can’t-
Ridley had collapsed face down, the bloodied side of her face hidden against the floor, though the amount of blood was confronting.
“Lee? R…Ridley?” She managed to stutter out as she arrived at her. She patted over her still warm back as if to wake her. Ridley didn’t so much as flinch. The tears were falling in streams now. She slid her hand up her back like she had the night before, her fingers tangling themselves into the soft hair at the nape of her neck. The hair that was getting too long. Alexia knew it’d been annoying her, and was going to insist after the event that she cut it for her.
“Please no..” she sobbed, leaning down to press her lips to her exposed cheek. There were more gunshots. More shouting. Loud, banging noises. She ignored them all. “Lee, please wake up. I need you.” She cried against her soft skin, and then even quieter she made her admission. “I can’t live in a world without you in it.”
“Lucy!” Blau yelled through the haze of grief.
Two strong arms wrapped around Alexia and dragged her back against her will. Away from Ridley. She fought against the arms, shooting her hands and elbows back and hearing a grunt. She protested in a scream as she watched Ridley getting further away from her.
She felt the person holding her hit the wall, but hold on strong. She hadn’t taken her eyes off her, just waiting for the slightest form of movement… anything. Anything at all. And suddenly a figure stepped across to block her view. He crouched down directly in front of her, studying her face with hatred in his eyes. She watched his mouth move and as he spoke an unrecognisable language. His eyes flickered to Blau and back, his finger pointing them both out to the four others.
She had no doubt in her mind who this was.
But, given the circumstances, she couldn’t seem to care.
Instead, she found herself staring through Bashir, trying to see the body of her girlfriend.
RIDLEY POV
Ridley sucked the sweetness from the pineapple while she waited for the English and Spanish games to download. She knew Alexia had been thinking about them, though she’d never complain, and Ridley was excited to see her reaction when she brought it to her.
Alexia’s smile could light up the world.
“He’s smarter than his father.” Duce said, snapping her from her thoughts.
“You don’t think he’ll take the bait?”
“It is very well-hidden bait,” she murmured. “I think it’s 50/50. We don’t know enough about him. From what I do know, there’s a chance he does something else entirely.”
“Like attack us before.” Ridley said, echoing the thoughts of the group.
“That’s an option. Otherwise he’ll watch from afar to see if it’s bait, and get us as we exit.” Fuzzy suggested.
“Or go for Alexia.” Becks murmured quietly. Ridley twitched.
“It’s not unrealistic.” Duce supported. “By now he’s realised that you’re keeping her safe. That means she’s the most important person in your life.”
“Blue-”
“Blue isn’t the one you’ve flown to hide away. In reality, he’ll want Blue and Alexia in the same place. Limit exposure.”
Silence while they thought.
“So,” Wombat said, serious for once, “it’s just a matter of – will he go after Ridley, or after them?”
Ridley landed as the sun was just rising high enough to clear the cliffs. She taxied in, her heart calming at the sight on Alexia and Chiquito waiting for her on the shore, kicking around her football.
She quickly hooked up to the buoy and drove the dinghy across to land. A football flew at her just as she’d dragged it up, and she’d managed a nice touch, kicking it straight back.
Still thinking about her conversation with the team, she walked over, took Alexia by the waist and kissed her as if it were the last time.
JORDAN POV
Jordan gripped tightly onto Leah’s shirt. Even with Leah’s back pressed up against Jordan’s front, her arms extended to physically protect her, she didn’t feel safe. One bullet would tear through them both.
Like it had to Ridley.
She couldn’t look at her body on the floor when it had dropped, because she hadn’t wanted to know. But Alexia’s screams were something straight from a horror film. They sent bone-chilling shivers through her body that she hadn’t been able to stop since.
She tightened her grip on Leah.
Alexia scrambled forwards amongst the chaos and landed somewhere near Ridley.
The two security guards held the man down, attempting to restrain him again.
Jordan looked everywhere but her body.
She looked over at Katie’s body in front of Caitlin’s, not dissimilar to Leah.
The Lumos workers shuddering amongst them.
One girl vomiting at the sight of Ridley.
Blue’s face turning paler than she’d ever thought possible.
The sobs as tears fell down her cheeks.
The anger in Lucy as she ripped the gun from the man’s hands.
The pain in Lucy’s eyes as she looked around, trying to find a way to control any part of the situation, from Blue’s grief, to Alexia’s.
The panic from Blue as more men entered the room, shouting.
The yelling at Lucy to grab Alexia.
The fight in Alexia towards Lucy as she dragged her away from Ridley.
She still didn’t look at her body.
Leah had pressed herself hard against Jordan’s front, in between her legs and she knew nothing would move her from that spot.
Ridley’s body.. it was so much more confronting that the others strewn around them. She could look at them. But not her. Not Blue’s family. Not Alexia’s person. But she couldn’t avoid looking at all of the evidence… the bullet had travelled upwards from the man on the floor, and so she couldn’t miss the chilling sight of Ridley’s blood sprayed onto the roof above them.
Jordan swallowed, but her mouth was dry. She held her grip tightly and turned to see Blue alone next to her, still weeping, her lips parted as her eyes flickered between Ridley, and the armed men coming toward them.
Reaching out, she held her hand.
RIDLEY POV
It was impossible to put into words just how good Alexia’s body felt against her own, their heads leaning together as they swayed. She wanted to stay in this happy bubble together forever, but that sick feeling in her stomach was still there.
Her smell.
Her touch.
Her warmth.
She was the first thing Ridley had ever done right.
Ridley felt someone staring and turned to lock eyes with Becks. He looked from her to Duce and back.
There was an update.
"What is it, little one?" She heard Lucy ask. "Is it your leg?"
Ridley turned to look at Blue up and down, assessing her discomfort.
"It's getting sore." She admitted, though she always understated. Getting sore meant she was in quite a bit of pain she refused to show. She looked around them nervously, and Ridley knew exactly what she was thinking. Of course she did. It was her baby Blue.
Before she could help, Alexia tightened her grip to allow Lucy to get there first. Ridley kissed the Spaniard’s temple in thanks.
"Come here." Lucy cooed. She gently hoisted the smaller woman up onto her and cradled her as if she were the most fragile thing in the world.
"Luce.. your knee." Blue protested, but alas, Lucy was nothing if not stubborn.
She carried her from the dance floor, trying to cover the pain in her own knee as she did so. Blue locked eyes with Ridley over her shoulder and she immediately felt herself moving towards them, only to be stopped by her gesturing otherwise.
Blue gave her that understanding smile of hers and rested her head against Lucy’s as she was carted away.
She didn’t think she’d ever get used to not being the person to take care of her.
Blue studied her face and gave Ridley a wink which she responded to with the best smile she could give her at that point.
She didn’t need a mirror to know how unconvincing it was.
“She’s okay..” Alexia murmured in reassurance.
Ridley hummed, watching them at the table as Lucy gently sat her down, and Jordan went over. “I know..” she murmured softly in response.
“We’re all okay..”
Ridley tensed at those words, because she couldn’t be sure. He could be anywhere. She scanned the room automatically, comfortable being amongst people in a public place, yet uncomfortable at the few random people in the room who were not footballers, and obviously not with anyone.
Alexia’s fingers gently began to massage the stress from her neck.
“Hey, look at me Lee.”
Ridley did so immediately, and happily. She loved to fall into those comforting hazel eyes of hers.
“I’m right here..” she whispered, waiting for Ridley to relax a little.
Only when she relaxed, did Alexia lean forward slowly and kiss her so gently, it could have been a dream.
Alexia was never one for public affection.
This was important.
The Spaniard’s fingers slid up into the hair at the nape of her neck and she shivered.
The feeling that she was slowly growing accustomed to spread throughout her body, to each and every one of her cells. She held Alexia closer as she kissed her, soft lips on soft lips, tongues brushing ever so gently against each other, just to taste.
She was consumed by her.
Ah, fuck. Alexia.
She ran the flat of her hand from her ass, over her hip, waist, breast, collarbone, neck, right up to cup her cheek and stroke her thumb across it.
Just as she reached her cheek, Alexia’s phone rang. Ridley groaned internally but from the entertained look Alexia gave her, it was obvious.
She looked at the phone and tilted her head, answering it.
“Hola, Ona.”
As soon as Alexia was with the group, Ridley left to wander over to the Becks and Duce.
She read through the intelligence, and once done, her eyes flicked up to meet Alexia’s. She was standing with the group, though her body was facing towards Ridley. That longing feeling returned.
“There’s one more piece of information you should know.” Duce said.
“What is it?” She murmured, tearing her eyes away.
“The ace up our sleeve.” Duce replied. A face flashed onto the screen and Ridley memorised it.
“This is Reynold. He’s one of ours.”
She tilted her head, looking at the codeword next to his photo. “Who chose the Beetlejuice reference?”
YFN POV
The word grief felt like an understatement. It was far, far worse than that.
She felt sick.
Empty.
Alone.
She felt like she could feel her own heart breaking into a thousand pieces.
All at once.
She struggled to breath, instead gasping as her body shook. The only thing to distract her was to protect the rest of them.
She watched Lucy grab the gun, and flinched as she did so. Had she even handled one before?
She watched Alexia scrambling towards Ridley’s body and the blood seeping from her head.
She watched her try to wake her, to get her to move. Anything at all.
Another group of men entered the room, armed, and she yelled towards Lucy.
“Lucy!”
Lucy looked to her, to the men, and then to Alexia and understood. She shoved the gun into her hoody and hurried towards the grieving Spaniard. Knowing she’d be trouble, she bear hugged her arms around her body and dragged her backwards.
YFN watched as Alexia fought, swinging and protesting, even managing to connect her elbow and nails into her at points. But Lucy was always so noble and determined.
She dragged Alexia back next to YFN and eventually her protestations dulled into lifelessness as she stared towards her unmoving body.
Even with the men yelling at them in another language, she stared straight at her.
YFN felt Jordan take her hand and she squeezed it, not knowing how good it would feel to have that.
YFN looked to Lucy and wanted to cry even more at the expression on her face. She couldn’t protect anyone. She couldn’t control anything.
She saw a little cut on her cheek from where Alexia had managed to scratch her, and wished she could reach over and wipe the blood away.
But they dare not move. Not with these men in front of them.
She blinked the never-ending tears away to try and see them better. The main figure crouched down spoke, his eyes flickering to Alexia and YFN, pointing to them both.
But he wasn’t smiling.
His eyes were dead, and his face was neutral.
This was revenge. This was Bashir.
Gunshots rang throughout the building which built some sort of hope, but he ignored them which sunk her heart. They must have been his men.
He stood and walked over to Ridley. Using his foot, he rocked her body and it did so, limply. YFN felt sick but knew better than to say anything. She looked to Lucy whose hand had come over to cover Alexia’s mouths from any protests she may have.
Bashir stood back, watching to see if she would move.
Nothing.
He struck her in the ribs, hard with his foot.
The sound of flesh on flesh and ribs breaking was disgusting.
Alexia began to fight against Lucy again and the Englishwoman whispered in her ear. “Please don’t.”
Lucy was begging. For all of them.
Alexia ignored her and managed to free her mouth and yell towards Bashir. “Don’t you fucking touch her!” She yelled in English. “You want someone to hurt? I am here!”
YFN flinched.
He stared at her, his expression remaining neutral. Did he understand English?
Surprisingly, he ignored her and gestured to the security guards and then the door. Two of his men stood and dragged the pleading security guards to the door.
As if he had known, banging sounded on the door as people tried to get through. But his men had barred it shut.
One of Bashir’s men shouted in English. “We have hostages. Do not enter or we will kill them.”
The banging stopped.
“We need confirmation of life.” Beckett’s voice.
One of the men hit his gun against the head of one of the security guards.
“Y…yes…I…. I’m alive. My n..name is Greg. I.. I work h… ere.”
“Greg, how many people are in the room?”
Greg didn’t answer. The man with the gun nudged him again.
“Uh..” He looked around the room. “D…dead or alive?”
The gun hit again.
Silence behind the door. And then: “Both.”
“Nineteen alive… eight dead.”
“How many hostages?”
“Uh..”
“We have hostages. That is all you need to know.”
The taller man, the one who’d shot Ridley stood now, grinning towards Bashir.
“I did it. I got her for you.”
Without blinking, Bashir lifted his hand and shot him in the chest, watching as fell backwards, hitting the leg of a table and gasping for breath. YFN closed her eyes as his body fell.
“She was mine.”
The man with the gun hit it against the security guard’s head again.
“E…eighteen alive.. nine dead.”
She looked at the man who’d shot Ridley as he sat leant against the table, gasping for breath. If there were an ambulance nearby, he’d surely live. And yet – she knew Bashir wanted him to suffer.
There was silence again for a period.
“I believe you have one of ours?” Beckett asked.
YFN looked to Ridley who still hadn’t moved. Bashir kicked the gun away from where she’d dropped it and shook his head towards his man by the door. When the security guard went to respond, he hit him hard in the temple and responded in his place.
“We have one of yours.”
“I’d like to speak to her.”
Bashir fired his gun towards the door, but not at it. “You will clear us a path to the roof, or we will kill the hostages one by one. You have 10 minutes.”
He looked back at Ridley, his jaw twitching, and then he turned to the group of terrified people huddled against the wall.
“She killed my father, and my men.” He said, with a strong accent. “So I will kills hers.”
He pointed Alexia out to his other two men. “I want her partner first.”
There was no way YFN would ever let the person Ridley loved to be hurt under any circumstance. She went to move and was distracted by something in the corner of her eye.
Did Ridley just move?
RIDLEY POV
Her head felt swollen. Sore. Pounding. Like a nail to the brain.
Shouting penetrated the ringing in the ears, though she couldn’t hear what it was.
Screaming.
Ridley knew better than to move. She’d been in similar situations. She knew why what had happened, happened. She would have been killed straight away if Bashir and his men had entered with just her there. They’d needed the element of surprise.
She made herself limp, trying to ignore the pain in her head.
She felt hands touching her. Tangling into the hair at the nape of her neck.
Alexia.
It was harder to suppress a shiver than it was to suppress the blinding pain.
“Please no..” she heard Alexia sob, followed by the feeling of her lips on her cheek.
More gunshots.
More shouting.
Loud, banging noises.
“Lee, please wake up. I need you.” She cried, breaking whatever heart Ridley had. “I can’t live in a world without you in it.”
Someone shouted. Blue?
The hands disappeared.
More yelling, though in Somali. She heard the heavy footsteps of men entering the room and counted them.
There were 5.
More talking, quieter now. It was Bashir’s voice.
Gunshots rang throughout the building. Her team was here.
The feel of a foot rocking her body. She remained limp.
A foot connected suddenly, and violently with her ribs. She felt the break, felt the blood pooling in the area and yet still, remained limp.
“Don’t you fucking touch her!” She heard Alexia yell in her broken English. “You want someone to hurt? I am here!”
Ridley tried to not react.
Silence.
Movement.
Two security guards protesting as they were dragged.
Banging on the door.
An exchange of words. She recognised Beck’s voice.
Becks wanted to know if she was alive, and she knew that. But there was no way for her to signal him. Instead, it was done for her.
More movement, followed by the sound of Reynold’s voice, loud enough for Becks to hear. “I did it. I got her for you.”
A pause. A gunshot.
She heard the bullet hit, and from the gasping sounds as he fell backwards, it was in his chest.
From the lack of a second bullet, she knew that Bashir couldn’t tell the difference between a bullet hitting flesh vs hitting a vest.
“She was mine.” Bashir hissed.
“E…eighteen alive.. nine dead.”
“I believe you have one of ours?” Becks asked.
The sound of her gun being kicked further away from her. Fuck.
“We have one of yours.”
“I’d like to speak to her.”
Gunshots towards the door. “You will clear us a path to the roof, or we will kill the hostages one by one. You have 10 minutes.”
Silence. And then the sound of movement behind the door.
“She killed my father, and my men.” He said, with a strong accent. “So I will kills hers.” A pause. “I want her partner first.”
Ridley’s breath hitched and she tried to suppress it. Obviously it was noticeable as Reynold created another distraction.
“Hostile times 2, two metres, 4 o’clock.” Reynold began telling her aloud. It was such a random thing, that Bashir paused to try and understand. “Bravo is mine. Split the last two.”
She heard Bashir raise his gun again. Reynold spoke again and she could hear the grin in his voice. “Look over here, boys… it's showtime!"
At the sound of the codeword, Ridley’s eyes opened just as she spun on the ground, kicking the legs of the two men out from under them. She grabbed the gun from one and shot the two standing by the door before it was knocked from her hand as a man grabbed her arm.
It was almost impossible to see with the blood running down one half of her face, and she was barely able to open her left eye, but the pain didn’t matter at that moment.
Next to her, she could see Reynold struggling against Bashir for the gun in his hand. Worried it would go off towards the group, she pulled herself against the man and kicked at their hands, the gun flying away to safety.
She managed to lock eyes with Alexia for only a split second, wide-eyed and shoving herself away from Lucy’s bear hug. An arm came around her neck and pulled her backwards, falling onto the man. The other raised a knife to get her while she was vulnerable, and Alexia slammed into him using her body, just as Ridley had taught her.
She shot a high elbow backwards and felt the man’s orbital socket give way. Spinning, she grabbed the knife from his own belt and plunged it into his chest.
Without waiting, she looked to see the other man sprawled on the floor, reaching for the knife he’d dropped when Alexia had knocked him over. Prioritising, she slammed her foot down onto his leg and as he screamed, she grabbed Alexia around the waist and picked her up, suppressing a groan for her broken ribs as she set her down where she was before. Alexia looked up, her mouth opening to protest but Ridley got there first.
“Stay, la Reina.”
She didn’t even want to know what she looked like with the blood dripping down her face.
She turned to see what remained of the two men. One was on the floor, a knife in his chest and the blood dripping from his mouth a good indicator that he was deceased. The other was now charging towards her with a knife. She managed to dodge and grab his arm, twisting it behind his back as she dropped him to the floor. She held her weight down on his body and her arm came around his neck, squeezing tightly. Face on the ground, he struggled against her to no avail.
Suddenly a sharp pain hit her outer thigh and she groaned, looking down at the knife. Rolling her eyes and swearing under her breath, she ripped it out and saw the blood begin to flow. She rocked the man under her sidewards just enough to slide the knife under before pressing his body down on top of it.
He gasped and shuddered, unable to escape until he went limp entirely.
She sat up just as one of the doors on the opposite side of the room burst down, more of Bashir’s men running towards. She watched as she approached with guns raised, yet before they reached them, her team entered and shot them down.
Her team breathed a sigh of relief when they saw her, their eyes widening at the bodies strewn around. She looked to Reynold who was standing opposite Bashir, though she was uneasy that he was so close to the group. To Blue. To Alexia. Ridley stood.
He looked at the bodies of his men around the room, then to Ridley. She didn’t need to wonder what his next move would be.
Bashir began to turn his body towards Alexia and Ridley snapped.
“Take one step towards her and I’ll break your fucking neck.”
He paused his movement, thinking.
She felt dizzy from the blood loss. She was weak. Tired. Bruised. Beaten.
Bashir also knew this. He turned back towards her. “I challenge you. You and me. I die, or you die.”
“Dumbest decision of the year.” Wombat muttered.
Her body was weak, but not enough for that. She had to think it over.
“Ridley..” Becks murmured. She turned her head, though her eyes were still on Bashir. “It’s your choice.”
He would never stop coming for her. For her loved ones. But she couldn’t agree with the unnecessary killing. The fact that she’d shed blood in front of them all. Killed in front of them. In front of Alexia. And Blue.
She gestured for her team to lower their weapons.
She took one step forward, locking onto those angry eyes of Bashir’s and murmured lowly. “You will not coerce me into an ultimatum. You want to die? That’s your choice. We are done.”
Just as she went to turn away from him, he did exactly what she’d expected and swung his knife.
“Ridley!” Alexia yelled.
Ridley ducked under his arm, snatching the knife from his hand and plunging it exactly where she was aiming. It hit with a loud thud.
A gasp of breath left his body and he stumbled backwards into one of the chairs at the table.
She crouched before him, gesturing to the knife. “I leave you with your choice. That knife is currently severing and blocking your aorta. You can live. Or you can die. But the choice is all yours.”
Before he could respond, she walked away.
ALEXIA POV
She’d been watching her from across the room since it had happened.
The authorities had arrived. People she knew held high offices. Politicians, military and such. The bodies were removed, starting with Bashir’s.
Many, many statements were taken. Photos. Injuries. Camera footage. Apologies. Explanations. A specialised team talking to the group about how to address the event in the media.
Blau managed to gain some powerful friends with what happened. And she even admitted that what happened would give Lumos a lot of publicity, though that’s not where her head was at. Most of her was trying to come to terms with everything they’d just seen.
They all were.
“It is not something anybody should ever have to see..” they were told repeatedly during the apologies.
They were offered all of the psychological help available, and she was pretty certain that it was more than just requested.
But amongst the chaos, Alexia couldn’t keep her eyes from her.
She was alive.
Ridley had been over the far side of the room in an intense debrief while her injuries were treated. Her ribs were broken. Her thigh was stitched and bandaged. Her head was also treated, stitched and bandaged until she could get proper care for it. As her shirt was removed, the military medics did seem a little startled by the amount of scars riddling her body. She lifted her arm tenderly, her torso on full display and still very much sun-kissed from their time on the island, while they bandaged her bruised ribs.
She wanted to give her space, but she also knew she needed it too. What happened had been… confronting. And not just the violence. But the feeling of having lost her. She wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. She didn’t even know if she’d be able to survive that if it had been true.
Alexia needed space to think, but she also just wanted to be close to her. To reassure her. The few times they locked eyes, she could see the shame there. The knowledge of having done such horrible things in front of her. Blau. Lucy. Everyone.
But Alexia had already understood the world she lived in. And if anything, it just made her feel even safer to see that side of her.
But amongst all of her feelings, Alexia was worried more than anything. Worried that Ridley would feel so ashamed that she’d push her away. She was terrified of that. Because after what had happened, it was clear that she couldn’t live without her.
When most of the people around her had disappeared, Alexia approached her warily, hearing her conversation as she approached.
“I am sorry again. I needed to help you before he arrived, and it was the quickest option… I’ll work on my aim a little better, huh?” Reynold chuckled, tapping her forehead.
She smiled and joked. “Very quick thinking, my friend. You saved my life by shooting me in the head.”
“Ohhh well.” He grinned as he gave an exaggerated shrug. “Looks like you owe me one.”
Ridley took his extended hand. “Thank you for your service.”
“The honour is mine. I’ll see you around, Commander.”
He turned to give Alexia a polite nod as he left, walking away from the pair.
Ridley and Alexia stood opposite each other just… looking. Not talking. She looked at the bandage on her head, the bruise on her jaw, the fatigue in those dark eyes of hers.
“Please don’t leave me...” Alexia whispered, catching her sob.
Ridley’s eyebrows came together in confusion. Her lips parted, and then closed. Her face relaxed.
“There are so many thing I have to say… so many apologies and regrets. So much shame.” She said with a voice that broke.
Slowly, and tenderly, she fell to her knees in front of Alexia. “But beyond all that - I love you, Alexia. I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours… if you’ll have me.”
She leant forwards, pressing her forehead to her abdomen, putting herself entirely at the mercy of the Spaniard.
And that’s the exact moment Alexia knew that Ridley was hers.
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ickaimp · 2 days ago
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[Magic Kaito] Scheduling
It's my birthday, so obviously, there should be fic. 700 words, silliness. +++
Saguru wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing here, other than the fact that it wasn’t a school night. And, well, Kid. Specifically a Kid Heist Notice. Which wasn’t for another three days. A bit larger of a lead time than normal, but Kid hadn’t made an appearance in several weeks, most likely due to it being the end of the school season and this being the first time Kid had a break to do so. But still, Saguru usually arrived later in the process, not for the initial heist note meeting. His presence  was mostly superfluous at them, especially given the straight forward nature of the current note and that Kid wouldn’t be there. “Alright, men!” Nakamori-keibu bellowed and Saguru tried to flinch at the volume. Truely, did everything have time be at high decibel? “Kid has sent us a notice for three days from now at 1800-“
“I really wish he didn’t.” The owner of the large inherited topaz flinched.
Normally gem owners tended to fall into two categories, either having something to hide --usually a fake heist notice-- or attempting to challenge the Kid’s skills. The current target went in a different direction… nervous fussing.  “It’s my daughter’s graduation and I wanted to be there.”
“Oh snap.” A familiar voice said from Saguru’s left and he jumped slightly. “Forgot about graduation. Would you like to reschedule?”
The Kid’s voice came from the officer standing next to Saguru. One who was twice Saguru’s age and whom he’d sworn had gotten checked for being the Kid.
“Oh would you?” The mousy gem owner looked relieved.
Kid stepped forward, the Task Force uniform vanishing with a small poof of smoke, to be replaced by the Kaitou Kid’s familiar white suit, top hat, and cape. “Certainly. When would be a good date for you?”
Kid hopped up on the desk, lightly crouching on it as the gem owner pulled out a paper planner, running his fingers across the pages. “How’s the 19th?”
Kid pulled out a phone, checking his calendar as Nakamori made an irate sound. “I’m booked.” Kid reported. “Can do the 17th or 20th though.”
“I’m out of town the 20th-“
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Nakamori bellowed, his face a violent angry red. Kid clicked his finger and held up a finger in the inspector’s direction, the thief’s gaze on his phone as if Nakamori was the one being unconscionably rude. 
“-I have work most of the 17th.” The gem owner continued. “But the evening is free.”
Kid made a thoughtful sound. “I supposed that would give me enough time-“
“You could check it now.” Saguru suggested. “Since you’re currently both free.”
Both Kid and the gem owner looked up at Saguru with identical looks of polite confusion. Saguru resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Not everything needs to be a magic show.”
Kid gasped in outrage, one gloved hand pressed against his chest, clearly offended.
“He’s got a point.” The gem owner gestured to the large stone on his desk. “Help yourself.”
Kid nodded, hopping off the desk, picking up the gem and walking over to the window and holding it up to the moonlight. When nothing happened, he turned back and set the gem back on the desk, offering the owner his gloved hand. “Thank you very much, it was a pleasure doing business with you.”
The gem owner shook his hand. “Likewise.”
Kid turned to the officers and gave them a polite tilt of his hat. “Gentlemen.” He said, then walked out the door.
Saguru pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily as no one moved. 
“-GET HIM!!” Nakamori belatedly bellowed, pointing to the door the thief had just walked out of. That seemed to startle the Task Force and they scrambled to take off running, several getting stuck in the doorway and preventing the others from escaping.
“Well.” Said the gem owner, looking quite chuffed. “That was exciting.” Saguru rubbed his face with a hand, torn between exasperation and amusement, remembering once again why he attended as many Kid heists as possible. He’d been to crime scenes for years and seriously. Stuff like this only happened with the Kaitou Kid. -fin-
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tenisperfection · 2 days ago
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You know, I was so excited for Eddie’s arc this season. I had such high expectations for it to be what S5 was to address his PTSD and trauma and loss, but this time to figure out who Eddie is apart from being Christopher’s dad and to also finally deal with Shannon wanting to leave him even before her death. So far they’ve given us bursts of this arc in a way that feels comical and disjointed and with not even an ounce of the weight and grace they handled his arc during S5. Maybe it’ll change in 8b and I know we’ve only gotten the first half of the season, so I’m prepared to admit to premature whining if they blow me away in 8b.
But you know how slowly and carefully they built up towards Eddie’s breakdown in 5b, right from 5x01? It felt like a progression and at point did I question what I was seeing or how real it felt. Nothing much about Christopher being in El Paso makes sense, and I’m not even talking about the timeline they can’t keep straight. Have they talked about if or when he might be coming back? Have they talked at all about anything? Chris barely said a word to him in 8x01, when did that change? Okay, I’m prepared to believe that he’s just given in to talking to his dad instead of ignoring him. What is Eddie saying to his parents about all this? Is he mad? He must be mad. Can we see that? Is Christopher going to want his dad to move to El Paso to be with him before they say one word about the thing that happened during the season 7 finale? How is Christopher feeling about all this? I’m prepared to believe they’d address that in 8b, but how is Eddie feeling about all this now??? They gave us eight episodes where they could’ve telegraphed a lot with this premise of a dad fucking up and his child leaving him to live with his grandparents and we’ve spent less than ten minutes on this arc in total? Make it make sense.
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faorism · 20 minutes ago
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im feeling real the call is coming from within the house vibes rn, so im going to be kinda nasty for a hot minute because you actually were the reason i came across this post in the first place. my friend and i were so aghast at your racializations of hardison in a fic, that they had to see who the fuck you are. and your own ignorance highlights why this response is kinda bullshit.
incorporating race is absolutely something that fandom needs to be better about doing. absolutely. but up your attempts at doing so show how stomach churning poor follow through can be, where i would have preferred you not give an attempt at all. because in the fic in question, you use the wildly outdated term "ebonics" to refer to hardisons exaggerated speech that he codeswitches into occasionally. my friend and i spent fifteen minutes trying to decipher your implications in the line: "He’s young, or maybe (hopefully) just black, is the first thing."
i did not read your evil!hardison fic, because i didnt trust your ability to write an entire fic focused on him. that said, i felt like a got enough out of this hc post:
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so! i think there's some good points here (perhaps!) about what hardison would look like with a possessive god complex, as opposed to him being a thoughtful provider building homes for the people he loves. and yes, "ownership" is a very contentous topic in the Black community, given how white supremacy has subjugated Black capital. but whatever analysis i would give you credit for—and any brownie points you could get from naming the racialized aspect—is immediately wiped when you fucking compare hardison to a goddamn overseer. you know, like an enslaver overseeing enslaved people? you imply here hardison, a Black man, would be a kind master to his employees. which is just so vile to be casual about.
attempts were made, i can say about your posting and writing. but i don't at all respect it, because you still have so much to really pull together to not be offensive about things.
which gets back to this post. you say your saw weirdness. why the fuck didn't you name it? no, really. did you actually see it or are you trying to save face now? you're not welcome for the labor i (nonblack latinx) and my friend (Black) had to go through to process this post. don't rely on others to do the work of naming racism and antiblackness; do the work yourself, or just don't reblog if you can't give commentary.
and, because i have been nasty and might as well be petty: honestly, there's just so much more work you need to do if you want me to trust you with handling race in fandom when you out here posting shit like this:
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you're the fucking issue here too.
Well, a realization just hit me. Don't know if this is true of not, I don't remember the timing.
Eliot said he didn't hit cops in the OG show. Well now that makes sense. His dad is Black. What do Black parents teach their kids when it comes to dealing with the cops? Part of The Talk. Just do as they say, not that that always work.
He would have at least heard that talk with other foster kids, or teammates, if not given it himself.
And why would he stick to that? Because his dad was upset with him and he was still trying to be a Good Boy in one way.
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eerna · 18 hours ago
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i was one of the people who saw the early leaks post and i remember trying not to read too much of it but i had a moment of being like wow this cant be real but also it definitely could be. i remember reading about the damn caitvi sex scene and i thought to myself thats so ass why would they do it in a prison and then i realized the writers probably thought it was some meaningful parallel or something about vi being able to transform being imprisoned with something good
then the act dropped and i saw the damn parallels with cait finding her in the cell and i was like ok yeah. they basically had that as an idea. amanda overton was talking about it in a watch party and said they love their parallels and it was meant to symbolize vi addressing her trauma and im like. i see what they were going for and i get it I GUESS narratively but i really feel like this is such monkeys paw shit like we got this scene at what cost. and like the scene ITSELF was very good and sweet and lovely but like could it not have happened ANYWHERE ELSE?
i feel like the biggest problem with arcane s2 was that the creators rlly wanted to push the bar with animation storytelling. amanda talked about this too and like i feel like it kind of highlights the problem. where bc this show is so amazing graphically the animators wanna highlight that with as much action as possible instead of focusing on smaller scenes and more intimate quiet moments. i watched arcane s1 all at once after it came out and there were def parts that felt a little rushed in certain acts but it was nothing like s2. it just feels like they had all these story beats they wanted to hit but didnt give it the time it deserved and it sucks bc they said they always meant it to be 2 seasons so like why does it feel like this. they wrote them back to back around the same time what happened between s1 and s2. i just feel like the caitvi sex scene is a microcosm of the larger problem. they had these emotional beats and story moments that in isolation are really powerful but its almost like we didnt get a proper A to B transition. its like we skipped several steps for sooo many story beats.
such complex characters with real ass lives causing real ass problems. cait's privilege being an issue, how gratifying that could be to have explored. viktor's experience being explored more in depth. just so much more about zaun. like all of it was there in tiny slivers but it was never given the depth to GROW or properly BREATHE bc five million action scenes and plot points had to be squeezed in.
ultimately i love arcane overall. i think it has broken boundaries and done some amazing things. but its blemishes are really... painful at the same time. and knowing how the writers did such a good job in s1 makes me just like. cmon guys. you had it. YOU HAD IT
anyways sorry for blowing up your ask with so much rambling i just... idk. what are your thoughts on this stuff do you agree with my assessment or do you think the culprit is something else
No prob, welcome to the symposium~ Yeah, I totally get what the writers were going for with Vi. Which is why I am so shocked they thought it was a good idea. Like, okay, she is addressing her trauma in the sex scene... But why should her trauma get addressed by being locked in a jail cell by her sister, who just spent days being wrongfully imprisoned in there by the girl she's about to have sex with, and who then told her she was gonna off herself. If anything, the thing I was feeling was pain because it happened again, a Zaunite was thrown in jail by the Enforcers after she helped and saved them without any rights, and she was reminded she was less than them and her life is worth nothing... Mmmmm, the perfect memory to overwrite prison abuse!
I too felt s1 had some strange pacing choices, Vi and Jayce teamup comes to mind first, and that was, surprise surprise, a fight scene. But those were pretty minor, and still left time for other scenes to develop properly. It only becomes a real problem when it happens scene after scene, character after character, until no one is acting in character and you constantly feel like you have skipped a scene or two. I too remmeber them saying they wrote the seasons back to back, but. Dare I say it. I think s2 was so majorly rewritten by the time it went to recording that only the bare bones remained. In fact, that might be why we feel this way - maybe they DID have a frame they wanted to follow, but the rewrites warped and twisted the characters so intensely they ended up making no sense in the context of that frame. That's right, I'm talking about the way they decided to more closely follow and collaborate with LoL in s2. Jayce's final speech to Viktor only makes sense for game Viktor, and goes completely against s1 Viktor. Vi deciding police brutality doesn't really matter all that much makes sense for game Vi, and foes completely against s1 Vi. Jinx giving up on ever being loved or accepted by others makes sense for game Jinx, and goes completely against s1 Jinx.
So yeah my thesis is: Arcane knows it looks good, and sometimes it prevents it from being well written. It also decided to throw in its lot with LoL in s2, and no amount of good intentions from the writers could have saved it from crashing and burning.
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miraculouslbcnreactions · 22 hours ago
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Do you think Gabriel's writing flaws were meant to be intentional character flaws?
It really depends on which flaw you're referring to. Some seem accidental, some seem intentional, and some are the result of the show's formulaic nature (and arguably the writers' skills) holding him back.
Let's start with an example of that last point: Gabriel squanders opportunities left and right while creating the most asinine plans you can think of and only wins in the season four and five finals because of sheer dumb luck. In spite of this, I think that he is genuinely supposed to be seen as clever and creative. That's why you get Nathalie spouting lines like this one from Catalyst:
Nathalie: As predicted, [Lila's] anger will reach devastating heights. Your plan is perfect, sir.
And this one from Risk:
Gabriel: Ladybug never makes a mistake! Nathalie: Neither do you.
And a whole host of other moments from seasons three and four where Nathalie just straight up fawns over Gabriel's brilliance. Even in season five, she still seems to think that he's a genius, she just wants him to give up on winning to spend his final days with Adrien.
You don't write that kind of dialogue unless Gabriel is supposed to be smart or Nathalie is supposed to be a bit of a fool (or, at the very least, someone blinded by love). I think it's pretty clear that Nathalie is not supposed to come across as lacking in the intelligence department and her admiration continues after her "redemption", so the most logical conclusion here is that Gabriel is supposed to be a smart villain. We're supposed to think that he makes really cool and intelligent plans.
The problem is that, if Gabriel was smart, then he'd have won ages ago. The butterfly is simply too powerful for him to lose. If you want to play him as a genuine threat, but also keep his losses believable, then - at the very least - you have to majorly nerf the butterfly. You also need to let him actually plan and scheme, setting up future akuma victims over multiple episodes before they come to fruition. Due to the show's format, we rarely get this. I think that Scarlet Moth and Miracle Queen are the only real exceptions. While they're the rare exceptions, I will note that their existence also backs this "Gabriel is supposed to be smart" read, the formula just doesn't allow him to come across that way.
This issue is why formula shows favor serious one-off villains that get defeated by the episode's end or non-threatening over-the-top comedic villains that return time and time again. For an example of the first, think the antagonists in crime serials like NICS or Sherlock Holmes stories and for the later think of pretty much every villain in Kim Possible or Dr. Doofenshmirtz from Phineas and Ferb.
The reason why formula shows take these paths is that it's genuinely difficult to have a villain that shows up every week and never wins, but who also feels like a true threat. At some point, the villain starts feeling incompetent because they're the ones making the plans. The puzzle masters. That puts them at a strong advantage. For a smart Gabriel to work, the show would need to be way less formulaic and/or his story would need to be much shorter. The butterfly nerf is also a must in my book.
In my intro, I also mentioned unintentional flaws. When I said that, I was primarily referring to the child abuse and Gabriel's general attitude toward his son. The writers seem to be genuinely oblivious to how badly Gabriel came across as the show went on. In the first season or two, I could have given the writers some grace on this topic as Gabriel's behavior could be argued as the cartoonish exaggeration of an overprotective-but-not-abusive parent just like Marinette's parents get to be cartoonishly loving at times and Marinette's crush is cartoonishly over-the-top.
We also had moments like the end of Gorizilla and Style Queen which gave Gabriel a chance to show off his love for Adrien and give it some real narrative weight. After Chat Blanc, that grace was gone and the show would continue to paint Gabriel as worse and worse right up until the season five final where all that terrible behavior culminated in Gabriel... getting a happy ending?
While it's always possible that later seasons will actually address Gabriel's abuse, it's pretty hard to come back from an ending that let him ascend into the light with his wife while smiling and perfectly at peace. That's not the ending that you give to a black-hearted villain who views his son as nothing more than a tool. The only logical read here is that Gabriel was supposed to be sympathetic and he was supposed to love Adrien, just not enough to pick Adrien over Emilie. Why heal yourself and be with your son when you can just die so that you don't have to live without your wife? What a positive and uplifting message for children!
To finish this up, let's quickly touch on the intentional flaws. There are mostly the things that even a five-year-old could pick up on because that is the show's target audience. Gabriel's arrogance, his unwillingness to give up, and his inability to see other points of view are very clearly meant to be his true flaws. He's also apparently supposed to be a creative contrast to Marinette with him being cold mass-production and her being individualism, but the writers kind of forgot to put that into the show. I think Marinette gets five designs and Gabriel gets two, making it somewhat difficult to see one as a font of individuality and one as an evil, mass-market fast-fashion producer. I'm not even sure what kind of fashion Gabriel creates!
In conclusion, Gabriel is as much of an inconsistent mess as Marinette is, which is unsurprising since they're arguably the two main characters. The ones with key roles in basically every episode. That meant that they had to warp and twist Gabriel to make the akuma of the day work even if that akuma made Gabriel look like a monster by doing things like attacking Adrien. It's just a variant of the way they had to warp Marinette into being wrong even if she really wasn't or if it went against her established character. This makes it hard to pick up on the "true" Gabriel, but I've always been of the opinion that he's supposed to read as a smart, sympathetic villain who loves his family, but is driven to evil by grief and an unwillingness to move on. The ending just sealed that read for me even though I 100% agree that this is not the character that they actually wrote. It's just who they clearly wanted to write.
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cursed-cube · 10 hours ago
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So a common headcanon/theory I’ve seen floating around is that when Okarun shifts into his yokai form, the personality shift he undergoes is representative of a “truer” inner self. I can see the line of logic that led to this, but the more thought I’ve put into it, the less I’ve agreed with the premise. And I’ve put so much thought into it at this point that it’s had to become its own whole post separated from the analysis it was originally a part of, so strap in.
Disclaimer: if this is your personal headcanon, I’m not here to try to prove you wrong or make you change your mind, I’m more so discussing this from the theory side of things and what I think will happen as the manga continues. Also slight manga spoilers for up to chapter 172 !!
So as the theory goes, the personality that comes out when Okarun’s transformed is a more genuine version of himself, where his yokai form removes his anxieties and allows him to act more confidently and openly show the depression and pessimism that’s lived in him the whole time. On a surface level this tracks, as being in this form does make him more confident, blunt, and he completely drops the formal way he speaks to people, going so far as to adopt a cute nickname for Momo.
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I don’t think this fully makes sense for a number of reasons, though. Firstly is that throughout all 175 chapters that are currently out, I can’t recall any moments where Okarun ever acts in a way that would hint at his real inner workings reflecting the personality and behavior that come out when he is transformed. I could have missed something, of course, but when so much of Momo and Okarun’s relationship is built on them being their genuine selves around the other (more on that in this great video I saw), I’m inclined to believe that there isn’t going to be another shoe to drop nearly 200 chapters in.
To explain my other reasoning, I’m going to have to go into a little bit of a side tangent about Aira, and first I want to establish why I think comparing Okarun to her in this instance makes sense. So up until the cursed diorama arc, the only character that really has comparable yokai related powers to Okarun is Aira. They acquire these powers in different ways, and Seiko says Okarun has Turbo Granny’s “spiritual power”, whereas Acro-Silky says she gave Aira her “aura.” Given the contexts of the scenes these are said in I would assume they are meant to be two different concepts, however it’s not ever explicitly stated or shown how the difference there affects them or their yokai abilities, so I am treating them as functionally the same thing for this analysis. Regardless, the similarity between them seems to be that in one way or another, they have been left with the spiritual energy of their respective yokai, which allows them to transform in very similar ways. Their transformations affect them both physically in making them taller and stronger, as well as their personalities, with Okraun becoming less formal overall, and Aira becoming more formal in the way she addresses people.
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Even though they are affected by their transformations in very similar ways, I haven’t seen any kind of headcanon or theory that the way Aira behaves while transformed is how she truly is or feels, which makes perfect sense considering her first character arc. From when she’s introduced, she’s shown to have a dynamic with Momo, Okarun, and her other peers at school, where even before she’s able to use Acro-Silky’s abilities, she’s pretty two faced. In chapter 51, Momo even says, “There’s our Aira!” when she and Okarun pull Aira away from her class and she immediately shifts to her more snarky attitude towards Momo. The manga makes it quite clear that the way she acts at school, and on occasion towards Okarun, is an act, and that her genuine personality is a little nasty and rude (which she is loved for! By other characters and audience members of taste). And with that established, of course no one put that much emphasis on how her behavior changes when she’s using Acro-Silky’s powers. She’s still the same person, her mannerisms and the way she speaks are just altered slightly, which is also pretty much how I feel about Okarun’s yokai form.
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That being said, I don’t want to fully dismiss that the shifted personality could mean something, and in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if Okarun did still have some repressed feelings and pessimism from his time growing up without any friends, but at the current point in the story I’m not sure if I could see that being shown explicitly tied to his yokai form. As of chapter 165, Okarun gets his final ball back, and as per his end of the deal, he returned Turbo Granny’s spiritual power to her, and she left with them and hasn’t made an appearance since. Okarun no longer has access to his yokai form, but at this point he’s surrounded by friends, he’s confessed his feelings to Momo, and he’s even grown physically strong enough to hold his own in a fight without any powers. As far as what we’ve been shown, Okarun has developed and his life has changed so much that he doesn’t really have any of those reasons to be a pessimistic downer that he had before the events of the series. Not to say he has no reasons to be sad, of course, we still haven’t been given even a hint of what his family and home life is like, and I expect something will happen with that eventually. But with where the story has gone so far, I don’t see this theory being true or narratively compelling.
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TLDR: There’s not much evidence going for this theory, and several things against it, so I personally don’t see it going anywhere in the canon series. The way Okarun acts and the feelings he expresses in his yokai form could still potentially mean something, so I won't completely dismiss it, but with where the story is currently I don’t think this theory being true would add much or be a compelling element of the plot.
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