#I need remus crying in the hospital

[moonstruckme]

okay sooo mae i have this idea for emt!marauders! you know how some people have mistaken appendicitis/ruptured appendix for bad period cramps (bc period education is so abysmal). im imagining a reader who thinks they’re having the worst period pain ever and the marauders are trying to help, but once reader describes their symptoms the boys are like ‘uhmmm no babes you literally need an organ removed rn’.

i hope you are having the best day <3 sending you all the good vibes!! <3

Sending good vibes back, thank you lovely <33

cw: stomach pains, mention of hospital/surgery

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 974 words

“Shh, I know, baby.” 

“You don’t,” you moan bitterly, pushing your face harder into Sirius’ lap and clutching your heating pad to your stomach. 

“I—yeah, I guess you’re right. Sorry.” He continues to toy with your hair, fingernails scratching lightly at your scalp in an attempt to soothe you. On the other end of the couch by your feet, James watches you with a sad puppy look. Sirius’ hand brushes across your temple, and he makes a sympathetic whining sound. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re hot.” 

“It hurts,” you whine in earnest. 

“Do you want some brownies?” Remus peeks out of the kitchen. “I’m almost done with these, but you’re welcome to some batter if you can’t wait.” 

You nibble your lip, looking at him apologetically. “I don’t think I feel well enough to eat anything.” 

Remus gives you a compassionate look and disappears back into the kitchen. Another wave of sudden, sharp pain makes you suck in a breath, curling tighter in on yourself. Sirius coos. 

“Fuck, what did I do to deserve this?” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to breathe through the pain. “It’s never usually this bad.” 

“Does it hurt in your back, too, angel?” James leans forward, rubbing tentatively at the base of your spine. 

“No, not—not this time. It’s so weird.” 

His eyebrows bunch. “Why don’t you at least have some of your tea? That usually helps, doesn’t it?” 

You press your face into Sirius’ stomach. He palms the back of your head protectively, thumb rubbing the skin by your ear. “Honestly, thank you, but I really don’t think I can. 

“You should, dove,” says Remus, coming in from the kitchen to crouch by your head. He takes your tea and presses it into your hands, brushing a kiss against your hairline when you take it. “Sit up and have a few sips before it gets cold.” 

Reluctantly, you do as you’re told, allowing Sirius to help you into a seated position. He pulls you gently into his lap, making sure your heating pad stays situated, and you raise the cup to your lips. James rubs your ankle encouragingly while you drink. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks at your pinched expression. 

You mash your face into Sirius’ shoulder, ashamed. You feel horribly dramatic. You must have the lowest pain threshold in the whole world. “I can’t decide whether to go to the toilet. I feel like I could be sick, but moving makes it hurt worse.” 

Remus takes your cup from you, setting it back on the table. He’s frowning. “Moving makes it worse?” 

You nod miserably. 

He touches his knuckles to your forehead, brows stitching together. “How long have you been feeling nauseous?” 

You make a low, piteous sound. It feels impossible to think clearly with your stomach radiating hurt. “I dunno. I think it’s because of the pain.” 

“Was it the same time that the cramps started?” 

“I think so.” 

“Alright, thanks, sweetheart.” He kisses the space between your brows. “Do you mind if we check on something really quickly?”

You feel your eyebrows furrow. You’re about to ask what he means when James takes your heating pad, pulling it off of your middle. 

“Just for a second,” he promises at your distressed expression. “I’m gonna feel your stomach, okay?” 

You nod, wanting whatever this is over with so you can get your heating pad back, but when James’ fingers push gently into your lower abdomen, the pain triples. You cry out. 

“It’s okay,” Sirius coos, holding you tighter to his chest while James backs up to allow you to fold your knees in again. “It’s okay, baby, he’s done.”

“Jamie,” Remus asks softly, “would you get us a bag ready, please?” 

You blow air out through your mouth, trying to calm yourself as the pain fades back to the way it was. Sirius pets the back of your head, his other arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders. “A bag for what?” you ask weakly. 

Remus looks at you, his face conveying both apology and tenderness. “We’re going to go to the hospital,” he says slowly. 

“Wha—why?” You feel immediately frantic. Tears press at your eyes. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”  

“He’s telling you why, baby, listen.” Sirius kisses your head. 

“You’re not having period cramps,” Remus says patiently. “The good news is, we can fix it. The pain will go away, and you’ll be completely fine. But to do that, we need to go to the hospital so you can have your appendix taken out.” 

As he explains, Sirius is pressing kiss after kiss into your hair, holding you close and rubbing your back when you get upset. You make your dissent known, but Remus is calm and understanding. He answers your questions honestly, tells you about the procedure, promises they’ll be with you for as long as you’re awake. Before long, James has returned with a backpack of supplies for an overnight stay and your pillow under his arm. 

He sets them both down on the coffee table. Slips one arm behind your shoulders, another beneath the crooks of your knees. 

“No sense in walking when you’re poorly, right angel? Sirius, you can carry her things, yeah?”

Sirius groans as he slings the backpack over his shoulder. “Fuck, did you pack all her books?” 

“Just the essentials.” James kisses the bridge of your nose. “Wouldn’t want you getting bored in there. You doing alright?” 

“I don’t see how it can get worse,” you manage. You know you must look awful, eyes red from withheld tears and face creased with pain. James’ brows hook sympathetically. 

“At least you’ll feel better in a few hours, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Remus answers for you. He sets a palm on top of your head as he moves past you both to get the door. “We’ll have you all fixed up soon, dove.” 

[luveline]

hello! do you think you could maybe write a james x fem!reader where he helps her calm down from a particularly bad panic attack? hyperventilating, zoning out, crying, etc? definitely not for my own personal wellbeing hahaha

James considers offering you his stress ball. It’s a palm-sized squishy rugby ball with deep grooves and splits from years of squeezing, but it does the job the same as any other. He always thinks it’s shameful that office jobs are stressful enough to require the invention of something to take your worries out on. 

He thinks it might be doubly shameful to let you sit there without asking what’s wrong. 

“Hey.” 

You raise your head to smile at him. It’s a good attempt at hiding how you’re feeling, but James already knows. “Hi.” 

Things are less frosty between you both. Honestly, James would say he likes you. Like, a lot. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I’m fine.” 

You take a steadying breath. 

“You don’t sound fine,” he says softly. He gives the office a quick survey and stands. “Come on, we’ll go sit somewhere quiet for a bit.” 

Your eyes widen. You don’t stand. 

Your breathing is too quick. James knows from experience that if you don’t get some time to yourself soon, you’re going to burst. It might be too late already. 

He takes your elbow into his hand. “Come on, it’s okay. We’re gonna take a walk.” 

Your breathing worsens by the second as James leads you out of the office. By the time you’re near the elevators, you’re struggling. Your inhales are short, shallow, and your exhales sound painful. It’s like you can’t get the air in, and when you do you can’t breathe anyways. 

“Hey,” he says, “it’s okay, angel, just take a big breath. One big breath, let’s slow down.” 

James is startled when you grab him, your face pressed hard to his shoulder. It came on so quickly, but he really does have experience in this. He’s got two best friends with a cargo hold of agonies each, and he’s learned how to take care of them. 

He finds he’d love to take care of you. There’s no reluctance there, only worry. 

“It’s okay,” James says, wrapping an arm around you lightly where you’re grabbing him. He could call you ‘angel’ again, toys with ‘sweet girl’, the s on his tongue, but it’s a little much for the moment.  He says your name instead with all the tenderness of a pet name, desperate to reassure you. “You’re okay.” 

You’re not listening, you can’t. You’ve zoned out of the present, panicked tears forced from your eyes with each harsh blink. You make a sound, a pained moan as you begin to buckle. 

James grabs you tightly. “Honey, it’s okay. It is, I promise. Take a deep breath. Just a deep breath, and we’re gonna sit down.” 

He’s sat with Remus through panic attacks that lasted long enough to consider taking him to the hospital. He has no idea what tripped you into this, but he can get you out of it eventually, with patience, and with care. James sits you down in an empty room along the hall and opens a window. He turns on the light, and he drags a chair to yours to sit almost knee to knee, taking your hand to hold.

“Can you copy me?” he asks. 

You shake your head. Your knee is jumping up and down in a hard jostle. Tears streak and drip from your cheek in jagged lines. Your panic is hot, sweat at your hairline, and it’s not pretty, but James doesn’t need it to be, he’s just desperate to make you feel better, and he’ll try every way he knows how. He takes breaths for you to copy, presses your hand to the seat to ground you, to force you to feel the starch of new tough leather on your fingertips. 

When it doesn’t work, he moves on. James doesn’t panic, it won’t help. He can imagine the fiery ache in your throat, and he’s concerned you might go light-headed, but he knows this is just panic. It’s something he can fix. 

“You’re doing so good,” he says softly, aware of the quiet in the room, your breathing the loudest echo. “But can you do something for me?” 

“James–” 

“No, I know, I know, it feels like it’s not going away, but it is. I need you to watch me, okay? Watch my arm. Watch this, angel, it’ll make sense.” 

And he begins raising and lowering his hand. He pushes it into the air, as high as his fingers can reach, and he brings it slowly to his thigh. Your eyes watch it move, at first frantic, and straying to other places, but eventually his arm begins to ache with the motion, and you’re following it diligently. He takes measured breaths as he does it. 

You copy his breathing. Your hyperventilating turns to plain crying, and then the tears come heavily but without sobbing. 

James lowers his hand. With the other, he rubs your thigh. “You did amazing, honey. You’re amazing, well done.” 

“I…” 

Your voice is hoarse. You don’t finish what you’d wanted to say. 

“Does that happen a lot?” he asks, worried it’ll start again. 

“No,” you say. James can’t tell if you're lying for his sake, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t mind if it happens again. 

He hates seeing you cry, though. “Good job,” he murmurs, rubbing your trembling leg, head ducked to be on your level, “good job, honey. You really did so well. All you have to do now is sit here and relax for a little bit.” 

“I have so much stuff to do.” 

“And I’ll help you. But right now, we’re gonna sit here.” 

You grab at his hand where it’s tracing a path. It’s definitely an overfamiliar touch, but you don’t mind, curling your fingers over the back of his palm. 

You have nothing to say. 

“Can I give you a hug?” James asks. He hopes his smile says it’s fine to not want one. 

“Please.” 

His chest aches a little. He slides his knee between yours and does the majority of the bending to hold you to him. “It’s okay,” he whispers as you take a shaky breath, his hand carving a path down your back. 

“I felt like…” 

James waits. Your voice is raw, but you’re not trembling as badly as you were. 

“I felt like I was gonna have a heart attack,” you confess. 

“I know. But you’re okay.” 

“I know,” you say with a sniffle that announces more tears. “I can’t believe I did that.” 

“You didn’t do anything. Nothing you had control over doing. Don’t think about it that way.” He pats your back. “Just try to feel better, that’s all you can do.” 

“You made me feel better, James. Thank you.” 

James hugs you. He tells you that he didn’t have much to do with it. All the hard work about panicking is the body that does it, he knows the ache of it afterwards, and he can feel your exhaustion. 

He’d let you fall asleep in his arms if that was what you needed to do, but after a while you’re okay to sit back. James leaves to get you a bottle of water from the vending machine, and when he returns you’re standing by the window and wiping your wet eyes. 

“Feeling okay?” he asks. 

You sniffle. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“Can I give you another hug?” he asks. This one being entirely for him. 

He can’t stand to see you sad. James wraps you up in a hug and sways you from side to side a couple of times. By the end of it you’re both feeling better than when your attack started, and that’s a job well done in James’ eyes. If he keeps special attention on you for the next few days, that’s his right. 

[soleilnewspaper]

Home

The epilogue

Series

Summary: Remus revels his secret to you, and is surprised when you accept him so blindly. Sirius and you find a way to make him know how loved he truly is.

Pairing: Poly!wolfstar x female reader

Warnings: Talks of bruises and injury, feeling inadequate (Remus), crying, comfort and fluff, suggestive themes.

Word count: 2.7k

AN: I have rewritten this so many times over the past week because I had no idea how to finish it. That and I’m still ill at the moment. Hopefully I managed to do it justice. Thank you. If you enjoy, please, like, comment and reblog.

Remus had come accustomed to the idea of being a werewolf. It was forced upon him after Fenrir Greyback took that choice away from the boy before he could even reach his fifth birthday.

This hospital ward is a chrysalis in the worst of ways. Remus usually a kind and beautiful person had been melted down to liquid and reformed into the butterfly, conscious and feeling the process at work.

Remus lies in the bleach tinctured ward on the crisp but thinning sheets. A curtain hangs limply on the chrome railing, looking like it's been washed a thousand times. With eyes on the polystyrene tiles avoiding your gaze. If he were to look into them, his heart would break into pieces without a moments breath. His chest begins to crack his spirt as it tightens into a knot like a cramp and a quiet fear builds inside.

Though the room is unfamiliar to you, in that hospital bed is a soul that has been woven into yours since the first time you laid eyes on him at Kings Cross Station all those years ago.

The look in your eyes broke him. Still, you required confirmation from him before going any further.

“Remus, you’re scaring me.” Your fingers found his as you sat down on the edge of the hospital bed. Blankets shifted underneath at your weight.

“Have you heard of a little thing called lycanthropy?”

The head nod with wide eyes that Remus received from you was enough confirmation to continue his explanation.

“When I was four, another werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, he, well..bit me. He was angry with my father about what he said about werewolves. So he used me to punish my father in his own twisted way.”

Most wizards and witch’s did not take well to his lycanthropy creating a constant fear in Remus since he was a little boy. His ma and da felt it. Sirius, James, Peter and Lily felt it. Now you did too.

“Every month when on the full moon, I leave to avoid hurting anyone and the boys come with me-“

“In their anigmus forms.”

“You knew?” Remus chocked out from his tired body.

“Only that they were anigmi, nothing of your condition. Regulus, Pandora and I caught on quickly. They weren’t exactly subtle.” You wiped a tear before it could fall from your face, offering Remus a smile as you spoke.

“You never cease to amaze me, angel.” Remus hand cupped your check and gently he used his figure to wipe your tears. You couldn’t believe he was comforting you when he was the one in pain.

“I understand if you decide you cannot be with me, anymore. Just please don’t punish Sirius for my condition.”

The words left his mouth and left a sting down your throat. You bartered your eyelashes a few times in confusion.

“Why would I do that?” You asked frowning your brows together as if it was merely a simple question.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look of disbelief and confusion, more so Remus than Sirius. The werewolf had decided he didn’t wish to condemn you to this life but Sirius had told him his lycanthropy shouldn’t change a thing. He was more than happy to defend him if it did, but he didn’t needed to. Within moments you had accepted him as is.

“Will you do me one favour.” Your eyes met his honey brown ones, an unspoken message of love spoken between the two of you.

“Anything, dove.” Remus’s voice was gently but betrayed a hint of desperation that left you feeling uneasy.

“Let me come, next time.” Your voice held warmth and your eyes were practically begging and pleading for him to say yes.

The thin injured werewolf dropped his hand from your face immediately like a chain reaction. His gentle face was replaced with one of pure and utter horror. A sharp wine escaped him a mix of pain and horror.

“No, no, no, dovie, you can’t.”

“Animals are safe to werewolves, are they not?” You didn’t mean to smirk but you couldn’t help it.

“Yes, but you-“

“Are an anigmus.” You chuckled under your breath, your eyes griming with joy for the boys having not figured this out.

“Damn, you little minx.” Sirius said through a smirk which you could almost hear in his voice.

“More like an angel reincarnated.” Remus winced when he moved to kiss you so you quickly adjusted your position to make it more comfortable for him.

“Nothing could make me stop loving you, Remus John Lupin.”

“You’re mental, you know that.”

“Mm, but you that’s like em, don’t ye.” You smirked leaning against his side. Remus adjusted his position to wrap his arm around you so you could lay into him.

“That he does.” Sirius chimed in a sense of joy radiating through him for you accepting Remus. Though he would have given you a piece of his mind if you didn’t.

“Come here, love.” You held out your hand to Sirius urging him to join you and Remus’s cuddle. Which he was more than happy to oblige to.

The cold ant-sceptic smelling air could not resist to nip at your exposed skin. Remus pulled you closer to combat the cold. The werewolf sandwiched in between his two lovers. Both careful of his bruises and injuries which still made you cringe every time he winced. You couldn’t believe he had to do this every month, your heart broke for him.

You titled your head to rest it in the crock of Remus’s neck giving you ample opportunity to admire him. In those brown eyes was the warmth of an everlasting hearth, as if they were the wood that could burn with golden flame yet be forever perfectly entire. Just bright enough to shine in the shadows They are a million hues combined together, the word “brown” does not even begin to describe them. They are the forbidden forest and the changing of leaves with seasons, the soil in summer and after the rains. How could someone ever reduce something so spellbinding to one word, when the colours invite us to marvel in their simplicity. Rich brown coloured curls framed his sacred face, reminding you of the sandy beaches back home at your vacation home.

He was beautiful you had thought. Even with bruises littering his body in shades of blue and purple. He was the kind of beauty that expands a moment into a personal eternity, a heaven you wish to be a part of.

A shiver of golden light would race down your spine, every time, every time when you laid eyes on him.

The good werewolf was the protector, as were the angel witches, yet man could not tell the difference between them and the evil degenerates and chased them all from our lands. You could tell the difference and so could Sirius. If and when Remus doubted that fact, you would be there to remind him.

For the two of you could see the mighty goodness within him.

He was sure once he had recovered he would begin to feel the shame and horror of condemning you to such a life. To which you would most likely reassure and reassure him until he came to terms with the fact that you nor Sirius were going anywhere.

Your eyes met Sirius, and you ran your fingers through his. Taking the chance to admire your second boyfriend. The hair that fell from his head was woven from the black heavens, fine strands of spacetime and starlight. Flowing as sweetly as a poet's ink and quill. It contrasted beautifully against his pale skin. His grey eyes had a settling effect, reassuring in their reflectiveness. They were the shine of a star in the nighttime sky.

The pieces of your heart that had been struggling to fit into these world became so quiet when cuddling with your two favourite boys; it was as if they had found peace in you, as if they needed your glue to bridge their gaps and connect. That thought allowed you to pass into a peaceful sleep, while Sirius watched over your shared lover.

No relationship is without trial and error. You knew that better than anyone. Yet you had thought things would become easier between the three of you after learning Remus’s secret.

However, you could sense problems still existed in depths and crack of your relationship. The way Remus would coil occasionally at your touch, the way he isolated himself from you. He hated that not only had he condemned his parents, friends, and boyfriend to a life of misery but he had now done the same to you.

Lycanthropy took away his chance at happiness but it shouldn’t take away yours. Yet it hasn’t, he was the one who had ripped that away from you. You didn’t desveres to fall for a werewolf. Or rather he did not deserve the love and affection that you had offered him so blindly.

The sounds of the black lake evaded your senses as the three of you took in its haunting beauty. Behind you was the outline of the statue of Hogwarts Castle. Sirius had managed to convince you to come down here to entrust your help to reassure your werewolf boyfriend of your shared standpoint surrounding his condition.

The lake met the sun with such grace that day, as if the three of you were so enchanted by this eternal dance that you barely noticed the cold of late autumn England air.

From its core, the lake, reflected the blue sky as the most sincere of smiles. A smile which could only he bested by the beauty of your boys. Underneath you felt the green canvas of the floral flash-mob, or what you imagined a flash mob would look like you weren’t completely sure what it was to be certain.

Tall silken ribbons resembling the ones you wore in your hair sheltered earth and beetle same.

The grass on your soles is soft on soft, warm on warm, a gentle tickle as each giving wand forms a cushion of green.

The meadow surrounding the lake meandered in all ways that are soft to the breeze, the green flowing in bonny waves as any river would be proud to do. You were so enchanted by it you had almost forgotten your entire reason for coming down to this lake in the first place. Sirius had been the one to remind you when he had called Remus’s name.

“Moons, me and Y/N want to talk to you.” Sirius brushed the stray curls from Remus’s face as he spoke gently into his ear.

“What it is?” Remus hummed in response trying to act nonchalantly but you could tell he was anything but that.

“You do know we’re not going to leave you, right?” It was your turn to comfort him after he had done the same to on numerous occasions before.

“Course, I do.” The honey brown hues of his eyes seemed confused at your question.

“You sure, love?” Sirius leaned forward to tilt your shared boyfriend’s chin to face him completely.

Remus remained silent for a while scaring you both. When he did spoke it broke both of you with every syllable. “You shouldn’t have to live in misery because of me.”

“Moons, we chose this, you think I wanted to fall in love with my one of best friends and than the girl I practically hated.” Sirius chuckled in a low breath.

“And do you think I wanted to fall for my best friend’s brother who I pretended to hate, and his gorgeous boyfriend.” You leaned in to settle your face on Remus’s chest.

“What are you both trying to say?” The voice crack in his voice held a hint of desperation mixed with fear.

“You ain’t getting rid of us that easy, Rem.” Sirius smirked before beginning to attack Remus’s jawline with kisses.

“Not. A. Chance.” You chimed in, playing with the ends of his curls.

“But..why?” Remus asked as he sat up to lean his back against the tree.

“Bloody hell, because you’re you. Rem-I-well-we know that everything you have to offer outweighs your little flaw-your condition-whatever you want to call it. Dosen’t change anything, it didn’t when you told me-“

“And it hasn’t now that you have told me.” You finished for Sirius.

“Fuck, how I’d get so lucky?” Remus threw back his head in laughter mixed with love.

“Well, you’re gorgeous for one thing.” Sirius smirked leaning down to Remus’s chest.

“You can say that again.” You rested your head on top of his chest.

“Hey, hey, stop loving on me, dovie here is deprived.” Remus pulled Sirius off him gently. You blushed at his words, checks reddened in embarrassment.

“He does have a point, darling. Get over here.” Sirius smirked and pulled you to his side leaving Sirius in the middle of the three of you.

“Now that is hardly fair.” Remus chuckled.

“Patience is a virtue, Monny.” Sirius said through kisses to your lips.

“When I have ever been a patient man.”

There is a casual grace to the grass near the lake, as if it has a peripheral awareness of its own beauty yet would rather be at peace in this warm sun. That lake was a happy song, a poetry to eye and soul, bright in all the hues our Earth can dream of.

In his heart, Remus felt that he could survive anything if he felt loved, even these pains that come to explode within, these silent hand grenades. With kindness he could make it, as with compassion there is grace. For so long he had feared he would never be able to revive such a gift, but he was proved wrong by four Gryffindor boys and now again by you. Your smile was finer than any drug Madam Prompery could prescribe him. You were his medicine. The acceptance you offered was all he needed. As long as Sirius and you were there to remind him of that love, perphas maybe, he would keep his humanity. Be more than what he had been condemned to before even reaching school age.

The grass is taller than you had ever seen it, meadow-like but still green. All that's missing is the weeds that were so beautiful in the somerset fields. You looked forward to how it would look in the spring. The blue cornflowers, scarlet poppies, white asters and even the thistles. Next spring you hoped you would be able to scatter seeds in the newly softened soil with your boys by your side. This time next year the grass will be just as high, but a riot of colour in place of the uniform green – something to warm your soul as well as please the eye.

Nothing in your life could have prepared you for the whirlwind that came with falling in love for those two boys. No ballroom lesson, tutoring lesson with the finest teacher in the world, fencing, fine dining, conversation protocol, society rules, or anything your mother had told you. You had denied yourself of love for so long now, you had thought you were content without it.

Oh how you were wrong.

You couldn’t imagine why you had denied yourself this for so long. As Sirius made your giggles into fits of laughter when he picked you up while the both of you were knee deep in the lake. Remus watching the two of you from a distance, his black jeans scuffed by the wet grass. A camera around his neck, as he snuck pictures of the two of you when you weren’t watching.

The way your fingers found Remus’s beautiful brown curls as he made you giggle when gently placing kisses to your neck and down your jawline. Or when you had the privilege to watch the two boys cuddle up underneath a red plaid blanket because Sirius had shivered from the cold once he left the confines of the black lake.

The three of you sat there in late autumn, the grass moving in steady waves, those long heads of golden seed as calming as harbour waves. There was something about it, their movement synchronized yet independent, their hues so close yet unique. They danced in that way, came the song of crickets and the chirps of birds content to be warmed by gentle rays. You recall thinking of the days you had been so blessed just ti have made eye contact with one of your boys, and now, they were yours and you were theirs.

The feeling to the inner joy of anticipating the autumn colours. You love the reds and golds as much as anyone, yet the rich browns have a homely feel, something of the earth. You let your mind wonder when those changes will come, perhaps as early as next month or the one after. Then every day those changes bring an inner smile in rain and shine. Despite any doubt in your mind, this was the happiest you had ever felt.

No amount of pureblood society rules or lycanthropy stigma could ruin that for you. You were home.

They were your home.

Taglist: @maraudersforlife2005 @xlxnq @1-800-wh0re4reid @liviessun @ae3ther @de-duchess @wolf-phoenix-lover

[remuslupinslittleslut]

OK I tried a incorrect quotes thing, here're my faves oki

Sirius & James: We have fun, don’t we, Remus? Remus: I have never been more stressed out in my entire life. --- Regulus: Guess what? Remus: What? Regulus: No, you have to guess. Remus, thinking: I don’t know. Regulus: Sirius is in the hospital. Remus: Why would you make me guess that?! Remus: What happened?! --- James: How would you like your coffee? Regulus: As dark and as bitter as my soul. James, shouting to someone behind the counter: I need one vanilla latte with extra cream and sugar! --- Remus: Do you want to know your gay name? Sirius: My... my gay name? Remus: Yeah, it's your first name- Sirius: Haha. Very funny Remus- Remus: *gets down on one knee* And my last name. Sirius: Oh- oh my god. --- Sirius: Wow, they really hate us. Remus: Yes, perhaps they’re homophobic. Sirius: But we’re not gay, Remus. Remus: Sirius: Remus: We’re not? --- Regulus: Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices. Regulus: Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time. --- Sirius: Regulus, you're testifying in an aggravated assault case tomorrow, and the D.A. is worried about how you'll present yourself on the stand. Regulus: Why? I'm fine on the stand! flashback to Testimony #1 Regulus: Look, I'll make this real simple so even these dumdums can understand. Regulus, to the jury: MAN DID CRIME. flashback to Testimony #2 Regulus: I'm sorry, could you make her stop doing that weird thing with her face? Defense Attorney, next to the crying defendant: …Crying? flashback to Testimony #3 Regulus: And when this is over, I'm gonna find you and I'm gonna break those little fingers. Judge: Could the witness please stop threatening the stenographer? --- James: We’re about to do the taser challenge. You want in? Regulus: What's the taser challenge? Sirius: We tase eachother, then drink. Regulus: How do you win? James: What are you, a lawyer? You want in or not?

I think maybe I've seen some of these before, but I thought they were fun so here ya go

[solivagant242]

losing you pt. 10

remus lupin x f!reader

warnings: strong angst, swearing, hospital, car accident

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 pt. 9 pt. 11

amberly is used as the MC here since i used to write a lot of fanfics with her, but feel free to self-insert or use whatever name you’d like <3

________________________________________

“Moony, have you eaten yet?” Her dark head pokes around the corner, framed by the untidy soft curls that he’d always longed to push back from her face. “It’s nearly three.”

He rests his burning eyes on his hands, groaning. “It is?”

She perches on the edge of his desk and leans forward to press a soft kiss on his cheek. “Yes, it is. Did you have lunch?”

Remus grimaces. “Forgot.”

Amberly sighs. “You need to eat, love.”

Her hands find their familiar spot in his hair and he pulls her into him by the waist, savoring the smell of lavender that’s imbued in her clothes and skin. “Thanks for checking on me.”

She nuzzles into his shoulder. “Of course.”

She was so warm. She’d always been warm, everything from those chocolate-colored eyes to her pale, gentle hands that had always been able to soothe his scars and wounds and fears. Her smile melted him like spring sunlight on stubborn snow.

Amberly stroked the back of his head. “It’s okay, Moony.”

He chucked a piece of crumpled paper across the room, fists clenched. “I should have gotten better than that”-

“You did the best you could, right? It’s not like you didn’t try.” Her big brown eyes are wide with concern.

“It wasn’t enough,” he spits, chest heaving. “I wasn’t enough.”

Amberly touches his shoulder and he collapses next to her on the bed, burying his face in the pillow. “You’re always enough, Remus. No matter what.”

A sob shakes his shoulders and he clings to her, tears soaking her jumper, as her fingers card through his hair. 

Icy tears are soaking Remus’ ears and pillow.

He’s been staring at the same blue-washed ceiling for hours now, unable to move or sleep or think anything other than the same four words that have been repeating mindlessly in his brain all day.

It’s all my fault.

It’s all my fault.

It’s all my fault.

If Amberly were here right now, she’d use her thumb to wipe his tears away and kiss the spots where they had been. She’d snuggle right up next to him and rest her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. He’d wake during the night to find her in the exact same position, clinging to him with her soft curls draped over her face. 

Once, Sirius had joked that sleeping with Amberly when she stayed the night must be like sleeping with a very large and very affectionate Venus flytrap. Remus had laughed as warmth flooded his bones and Amberly blushed next to him.

Now he doesn’t think she’ll ever look at him, much less hug him, again.

If she’s even here at all-

The thought hits him like a punch in the gut and he doubles up as a raw sob rends his chest in half. 

No more holding hands on the way to the bakery in the mornings. No more sleepy cuddles on the battered living room couch. No more back and neck rubs by the light of the fireplace in the evening. No more random animal and math facts exchanged over lunch, or cheesy cat memes sent over text at all hours of the day. 

All of that would be gone.

The added thought of and it’s all my fault wraps iron fingers of guilt around Remus’ ribs and squeezes. He buries his face in his hands as tears pour down his face, more tears than he believed possible after all the crying he’s been doing.

You did this to her. You pushed her away. Over and over again, after all she tried to do was help. You were a complete and utter prick to the one person who loved you more than she loved herself. 

Merlin, she’d do anything for me. Did do anything for me. Countless visions of keeping her waiting, of her making him his favorite food even when she was tired, of those brown eyes being exhausted and drained because of him rose to his thoughts. But always, always so warm and full of love and that he felt like he was coming home every time he saw her face.

Until now. 

Remus chokes back another sob.

The hospital gave him a room on the first floor, down the hall from Amberly. Apparently it was the “least they could do” after the state he’d been in when he saw her. He’d collapsed to his knees on the floor as the sheer force of what he’d done hit him. Sirius- who’d still been very close to punching his face in- had had to drag him out as the doctor watched impassively. 

Down the hall.

She’s just down the hall. 

His feet are on the ground before he knows it and he’s padding noiselessly down the white, blue-lit corridor. An eerie silence permeates everything. The narrow windows in front of the doors are dark and silent. No one is awake at two forty-three a.m.

Her room.

Her door.

Her bed.

Her-

Remus feels fresh tears pour down his face and he sinks onto the chair at the side of the bed. 

She’s still, so still. Her face is paler than ever against the sterile white of the hospital sheets. Her eyes are deeply shadowed, and she’s breathing so faintly that the blue quilt is hardly moving. Her hair is spread across the pillow like it’s melting into the night, barely discernible in the dimness of the room.

He takes her hand. He can’t remember the last time they held hands, not the way they’d used to. Fingers interlocked, warm and sure, the one single guarantee out of everything in this life that he’d loved and loved and loved.

Amberly stirs. 

His lips part as he turns towards her, shocked; her eyes flutter open and fix on him.

He can’t tell what she’s thinking. He can’t read her expression at all, and as he opens his mouth to croak out a I’msosorryIloveyoupleasedon’tleavemepleasepleaseplease-

“You’re not Remus.”

Her voice is soft, almost disappointed. There’s an odd note of resignation in it that strikes Remus to the core. 

He clears his throat and tries to keep the tears out of his eyes. “It’s me.”

“No,” she murmurs, shifting slightly in the bed. Her cast rustles against the covers. “He wouldn’t have come.” Her eyes close again.

Remus’ throat closes up at the note of assurance in her voice. “Wh- what do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Amberly mumbles. “Busy. He’s too busy.”

“Busy with what?”

“Stuff,” she breathes. “I think I should leave him alone. He doesn’t like when I help.” A tiny bit more alertness returns to her eyes and she gazes at him in the dark. “It’s my fault.”

“No,” Remus manages to choke out. “It’s not.”

Her eyes are luminous in the dark. “It is. It’s why I have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop”- Her voice is getting breathy and quiet as she sinks back down into sleep. “Stop caring.”

Then she’s asleep again and tears pour down Remus’ face as her hand goes limp and slowly, slowly slides away from his. 

[sourgreenlupin]

@wolfstarmicrofic | bleed | word count: 837

(i know how late this is i just rlly wanted to write this prompt)

during their second year, sirius made it a habit to sleep in the hospital wing on full moons, just to make sure he was there when remus woke up, and because the dorm was too quiet without the constant turning of pages from across the room.

remus always came back a mess; in pain, carried in by Madam Pomfrey, bleeding, bruised, and broken.

but today was worse.

sirius woke up to remus hissing in pain and stifling cries. Madam Pomfrey was crying as she tried to console him, and sirius was up in an instant.

remus was leaning on Madam Pomfrey, completely relying on her, so sirius ran over to his other side, and helped him over, ignoring the blood staining his shirt.

when they finally get remus into the bed, sirius takes the time to observe.

there are tears streaked down his face, blood dripping down his lips, his shoulder clearly out of place, giant gashes interrupting the pale skin of his arms, blood soaked through his t-shirt, and the fresh, scarring slice across his face.

remus is writhing as Madam Pomfrey prepares everything, sobbing and mustering small pleas of ‘sirius, go, please,’ and remus is pushing and clawing at sirius chest, but he’s frozen.

sirius pulls himself together as Madam Pomfrey administers the potion to remus. the fist wrapped around sirius’ bicep slowly unravels as he fell asleep, sirius fell apart.

‘sirius-‘

‘it hurts to look at him like this,’ sirius is sniffling through his words, trying to keep his persona up, but hiccuping through sobs and gripping his arm too hard.

sirius watches the wounds scar over and remus’ body finally fully relax.

he finally takes a breath in.

‘oh, dear, he’s always going to be in pain, but he’s strong, and bloody stubborn. there’s only so much i can do for him. he won’t let himself feel helpless, but force it upon him, sirius. be there for him before he can be there for himself.’

sirius nods along, arms still wrapped around himself.

‘i’ll do anything to help him feel better, he’s just bad at letting me,’ as composed as sirius seemed, he couldn’t think straight.

with every breath he takes in, he’s thinking about remus.

every inhale, ‘remus’, every exhale, ‘remus’. and sirius thinks it’ll be that way forever.

‘i think i’m going to try and sleep a little more, if that’s alright?’ he feels uncharacteristically vulnerable, but Madam Pomfrey doesn’t pry.

‘anything you need sirius. he’ll be glad to see you when he wakes up,’ and then she’s off with a comforting smile.

so he crawls into the closest bed, and falls asleep as his tears soak the pillow.

when he wakes, his bed is pushed against remus’; surely an act of Madam Pomfrey. remus is already awake, so sirius reaches out to run his fingers through the knots in the other’s hair.

‘sirius?’

‘yeah, moony?’

remus hesitates, takes a deep breath, then, ‘i’m sorry you had to see that. i don’t know why last night was so bad,’ and remus finally turns to look at him.

tears threaten to escape sirius again at the dark scar running across remus’ face, but merlin, he’s just as beautiful as always. he’s still his moony.

‘remus, i’m here because i wanted to be. through the good and bad. i’m here because i care. and i’ll be here as long as you let me.’

remus flushes, and sirius finally retracts his hand from his hair, only to trace the newly formed scar along his face, delicately.

‘is it gnarly? does it make me look cool?’ remus keeps his cool, and sirius doesn’t mention the tears that he watches escape.

‘i think it makes you even more beautiful.’

remus’ eyes widen, and sirius removes his hand completely, panicked.

‘you’re beautiful too, sirius.’

‘yeah, but i don’t have a sick ass scar,’ and remus laughs for the first time, and sirius wishes he could have that noise on repeat forever.

with the tension gone, sirius moves his hand back to comb through remus’ hair.

‘sirius?’

‘yeah?’

‘what are you doing?’

‘im taking care of you, moony.’

dopey smiles spread across both boys’ faces, and remus had never felt more at peace in the hospital wing.

‘ill take care of you for the rest of time, if you allow it.’

remus leans in to the hand scratching at his head, ‘i think i might be able to get used to that,’ and he turns to grin at sirius, and sirius is already staring back.

[moonsandmobilityaids]

Caught Between Part 3

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: You come back from the medical appointments, and you're a little broken. Warnings: Chronic illness, medical gaslighting, depression, ableism Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Remus’s arms are wrapped securely around you, his fingers tracing soft patterns along your arm as if to reassure both himself and you that this moment is real—that he's truly here with you, despite all odds. Your head rests against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—quiet, comforting.

"Do you feel any better?" His voice is barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp with concern.

"I don't know," you admit, your voice hoarse from time spent crying in frustration, fear, and grief.

Remus doesn't press for more. Instead, he pulls you closer, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. He's always been good at understanding when words aren't enough, when what you need most is just someone to be there—to listen, to care.

The room is bathed in a soft glow from the fire crackling in the hearth, casting long shadows that dance across the stone walls. It's a stark contrast to the sterile white lights of the hospital, and while part of you welcomes the change, another part can't shake the heavy weight settling in your chest.

"I'm sorry, love." Remus’s voice trembles slightly, betraying the calm exterior he's trying so hard to maintain—for your sake, you realize. "I wish I could make this better."

Slowly, very slowly, you feel the tension in your body begin to ease. Not because the pain has lessened or because your worries have suddenly vanished—they’re still there, lurking at the edges of your consciousness—but because, for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re not alone.

Remus's presence is a quiet anchor amidst the storm raging within you, grounding you when everything else threatens to pull you under. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as though he understands the fragility of the moment—of you—and cherishes it nonetheless.

But even as Remus's warmth seeps into your skin, chasing away the chill that had settled deep in your bones, you can't escape the heaviness that continues to cling to you—the reminders of the failed appointments, the accusations, the disbelief. They hang over you like a dark cloud, threatening to consume any sliver of hope that dares to peek through.

A soft knock on the door interrupts your quiet moment. Remus's chest rises slightly beneath you, a silent sigh escaping his lips.

"Come in," he calls out, just loud enough for the visitor to hear.

Before either of you can move, James and Sirius enter the room, their faces etched with concern. They've come straight from dinner, it seems, unable to stay away any longer.

Sirius moves to sit at the foot of the bed, leaning against one of the posts near your feet, while James takes his usual spot beside you. His hand reaches out, hovering over yours for a moment before gently resting atop it—a simple gesture, but one that speaks volumes about the worry gnawing at him.

The silence that follows is heavy, pregnant with questions neither James nor Sirius seem ready to ask. But they're there, flickering in their eyes as they study you—your drawn face, the way you lean into Remus, seeking comfort where once there was only pain.

Something shifts in the air around you, an unspoken understanding passing between the four of you. This isn't like before. Something has changed, and not for the better. The atmosphere is thick with tension, and despite the warmth radiating from the bodies around you, a chill runs down your spine.

What happened? they want to know. What did they say this time?

But the words catch in their throats, held captive by the fear of confirming what their hearts already suspect—that whatever news you received today, it has broken something inside you that may never be mended.

"Hey, sweetheart." James's voice is soft as he places a hand on your arm, his touch tentative. He looks between you and Remus, clearly torn. You've been through this before—the appointments, the letdowns—but something about your expression now tugs at him in a way that’s different from before.

James has always been confident, unflappable even in the face of danger, but there's a hint of uncertainty in his eyes as they linger on your face. It's not just disappointment etched into your features; it's deeper than that, and James, despite his usual bravado, isn't immune to the change.

"Y/N," Remus whispers, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your forehead. His fingers trace your skin lightly, a silent testament to his understanding of the fragility within you—a crack in the armour you've worked so hard to maintain. "You don't have to talk about it if you're not ready."

His words hang in the air, offering both an out and an invitation. There's no judgement here, only concern. Though Remus's arms remain steady around you, his eyes betray how closely he's watching for any sign of discomfort or distress.

Remus's gaze never leaves you, quietly taking in every minute shift in your demeanour. The room may be filled with people who care about you, but right now, he knows none of that matters if you can't find solace within yourself.

You take a deep breath, feeling Remus's steadying presence beside you. His arm remains draped around your shoulders, a constant amidst the storm brewing within your chest. You let the words tumble out, raw and unfiltered. "I'm done," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't keep looking... not when it just ends up here every time."

"Every single one of them..." Your throat tightens around the words, forcing them out in a choked whisper. "Six doctors... all saying I’m lying." Each word feels like a punch to the gut, another layer of betrayal piling onto an already heavy heart. Every appointment has been another crushing blow, each doctor adding their own brand of dismissal to the mix.

"The worst part isn’t even being told there’s nothing wrong with me—it’s knowing that they think I’m making this up." The admission hangs in the air, a stark reminder of how badly the system has failed you. It’s not just about physical pain anymore; it’s about the emotional toll of being doubted, of having your reality invalidated by those who are supposed to help.

"Now I'm just tired." Your gaze drops to your lap, fingers idly picking at a loose thread on your blanket. "Tired of fighting for answers that never come."

"Done?" James echoes, his brow furrowing. The idea of you giving up—of anyone surrendering—is foreign to him. He's spent his life defying rules and expectations, always pushing back against the constraints of what others deem possible. "But there have to be other doctors, private specialists maybe..."

He trails off as he catches Sirius's eye, a silent exchange passing between them before Sirius nods, sitting forward.

"What about alternative methods?" Sirius suggests, his voice low but steady despite the concern clouding his eyes. His gaze is fixed on you, searching for any hint that you might consider their ideas—a flicker of hope amidst the resignation that’s settled over you.

"Or other countries," James adds, unable to quell his instinct to solve—to fix whatever is broken. But this isn't a prank gone wrong or a scrape from Quidditch; it's something far more complex, and yet he can't help but grasp at straws, desperate to rectify the situation.

Both men are problem solvers by nature, wired to act rather than sit idle, especially when someone they care about is hurting. It goes against every fibre of their being to accept defeat without exploring every available option, no matter how remote or unlikely.

They don't understand—not fully—the toll each fruitless appointment has taken on you physically and emotionally. They see the fight left unclaimed, the stones left unturned, and it baffles them why you would choose to walk away now.

Meanwhile, Remus remains silent beside you, his hand resting gently atop yours, anchoring you amidst the whirlwind of suggestions swirling around the room. He doesn’t join the chorus of voices offering solutions because he knows—perhaps better than anyone—that sometimes, the hardest battles aren't fought with wands or words but within the very fabric of one's soul.

“Enough!" Your voice cuts through their well-intentioned plans, a jagged edge of desperation slicing through the air. It's not loud or forceful but rather quiet—so quiet that it brings every other sound in the room to an abrupt halt.

"Trying again might..." Your words hitch on a sob, your throat constricting around the truth you've kept hidden away for far too long. "Might just kill me."

It's a stark admission, one that hangs heavy in the silence that follows. You're not being dramatic or seeking sympathy; this is simply your reality—a testament to how much you've endured and how little you have left to give.

"You don't understand," you continue, your voice barely more than a whisper now. "I can’t... I can’t do all of this again."

The thought alone terrifies you—the endless appointments, the invasive tests, the dismissive comments—all while battling all of your conditions, day in, day out.

"Especially if it means another round of being accused of lying, of being told my pain isn’t real."

Your confession lingers in the air, a painful echo of all the times you've been dismissed, doubted, and disbelieved. They know the facts—you've shared them often enough—but hearing the raw emotion behind your experiences makes the situation feel all the more dire.

You are living proof that even with friends by your side and resources at hand, the medical world can still fail those who need it most.

The confession shocks even Sirius, who has heard his fair share of secrets and lies. His usual quick wit is nowhere to be found as he stares at you, his expression frozen in disbelief.

"Baby..." He starts but doesn't finish, the words lodged somewhere between shock and understanding. How does one respond to such a revelation? Especially when it's about someone they care for deeply?

Sirius isn't prepared for this—for the idea of you being so broken, so worn down that another round might shatter what little strength remains. It's a concept that clashes violently with the image he holds of you: resilient, defiant, unbreakable. But everyone has limits, and yours have been tested far beyond what most could endure.

James, too, is speechless. For all his courage and quick thinking, he can't find the right words—a solution—to this problem. There are no spells or potions, no clever tactics that will make your pain disappear. The only thing left is acceptance, something James is not accustomed to offering without a fight.

But how can he argue against your truth, especially when it's etched so clearly across your face—in the lines of exhaustion, in the dullness of your eyes?

"No," James finally says, more to himself than anyone else. "This can't be happening."

His denial hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the dust motes caught in the sliver of sunlight peeking through the curtains. Even as reality settles around him, part of James still clings to hope, to the belief that there must be a way forward that doesn't involve surrendering.

But looking at you now—so small and fragile amidst the rumpled sheets—the fight drains out of him. His shoulders slump slightly, the weight of the situation pressing down on him like never before. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmurs, though whether it's an apology for doubting you earlier or for failing to find a solution, he isn't sure. All he knows is the ache spreading through his chest, mirroring the sadness reflected in your eyes.

Remus pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you more firmly, as if to shield you from the weight of the room.

"Y/N needs time," Remus says, his voice soft yet carrying a quiet strength that somehow makes it through the haze surrounding your thoughts. "She's been pushed too far for too long."

His gaze shifts to James and Sirius, holding each in turn with an unspoken message: They've seen enough. They know what this is costing you—not just physically, but emotionally, mentally.

"You need to rest." The words are meant for you, but they reach everyone present. It’s not a suggestion; it’s a plea—a command almost—that speaks volumes about how deeply he understands your struggle.

James and Sirius exchange glances, their earlier tension replaced by shared concern. Each man is grappling with his own helplessness, the reality of your situation sinking in with every laboured breath you take.

"But we can't just—" James starts, only to be cut off by Remus' firm shake of his head.

"No, James," he interrupts gently, squeezing your shoulder as if to reassure both himself and you. "Not today. Not now."

And then, perhaps for the first time since they arrived, there's silence—an uneasy truce born out of necessity rather than understanding.

Remus’ hold on you tightens, protective, grounding. His heart beats steady against your ear—a silent promise that he won’t let go, that he will carry this burden with you so you don’t have to bear it alone any longer.

“You’ve done enough,” he whispers, and though the words aren’t meant for anyone else’s ears, they hang heavy in the air, echoing the sentiment etched into the lines of his face.

Neither James or Sirius want to believe that you're giving up, that you've reached a point where searching for answers has become too much to bear. It goes against everything they stand for—their innate drive to fight, to push through adversity until victory is won.

"But there's still hope," Sirius protests, his voice barely above a whisper. "We can't just... we can't stop looking."

James nods in agreement, desperation flickering in his eyes. "There must be something else—we just haven't found it yet."

But neither conviction nor stubbornness can erase the truth unfolding within these four walls. Something shifts in the atmosphere, a subtle change that signals the end of denial and the dawn of acceptance. For once, they are at a loss, their usual bravado useless against the stark reality you present.

"Enough," You repeat, and your voice cuts through the tension like a knife, quiet but firm. The single word hangs in the air, demanding attention despite its soft delivery. Their heads turn towards you, and in that moment, everything else falls away. There's only you, lying there with an uncharacteristic calmness that belies the storm raging inside you.

Your gaze meets theirs, and the depth of emotion swirling within your eyes takes them aback. They see it all—the pain, the exhaustion, the resignation—and for a heart-stopping second, they understand. This isn’t about defiance or surrender; this is about survival, about preserving whatever fragments of yourself remain amidst the chaos.

"You don't get it," you begin, each word punctuated by the effort it takes to speak. "This isn't about giving up. It's about letting go."

They want to argue, to reassure you that they'll find another way, but the words die on their lips. Because as much as it pains them to admit it, they know you're right. Sometimes, the hardest battles aren't fought on fields or in hospitals—they’re waged within the confines of one's own mind and body.

James leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His hand lingers on your arm when he pulls back, the look in his eyes filled with both love and defeat. "Alright, sweetheart," he murmurs, barely audible over the rustle of sheets.

He doesn't say anything else, but you can see that he's trying—trying to understand, trying to let go of the need to fix everything. It's hard for him, but if it's what you need, then James will move mountains just to give you peace.

Sirius shifts from the foot of the bed, moving closer until he's within reach. He rests a hand on your leg, his face still pale from the impact of your words. The usual fire in his eyes is gone, replaced by a quiet acceptance that speaks volumes about the gravity of the situation.

"Y/N..." he starts, voice rough with unshed tears. But there are no more arguments, no more suggestions or plans forming behind those stormy grey eyes. Instead, there's only silence—a heavy weight that settles between you, anchoring Sirius to this moment, to the reality that neither of you can escape.

"Y/N," Remus murmurs, his voice low and soothing amidst the tension that hangs heavy in the room. His hand moves gently, fingers tracing unseen patterns on your arm—a silent promise that he's there, even when words fail.

He doesn't try to fill the silence with empty reassurances or well-meaning platitudes. Instead, he simply holds you closer, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours. It's an unspoken vow, one that says, 'I'm here for you,' without needing to utter a single word.

It's not much, but it's enough—for now, at least. Because while the others struggle with acceptance, Remus understands. He has always understood, even when you didn't have the strength to explain. And in this moment, as the gravity of your situation settles over them like a shroud, his presence is more comforting than any words could ever be.

[brandileigh2003]

[#FFF255 prompt In the Heart] @flashfictionfridayofficial

CW: major character death, hospitals

Ship: remus lupin/sirius black

Words: 996

Feel free to give kudos on AO3 if you want ❤️❤️

“Sirius?” Remus croaked.

“Remus? Are really awake this time?” Sirius asked, pressing the button for the mediwitch. He glanced up at the spell displaying Remus' heart rate and grimaced. He didn't like what he saw.

“Yeah, think so. What's happening?” Remus said, attempting to sit-up but failing.

“Remus, they discovered what's wrong. There's a hole…” Sirius blinked back tears, trying to compose himself. “It's in the heart.”

He'd had nearly three weeks to try to process this. Three weeks in mungos after that horrible full moon. Moony had barely howled, the only time he’d gotten up was to sniff Padfoot and nudge him to curl up together. After the change back, Sirius thought he would lose Remus. Never get to see his beautiful eyes again, never get to hear his voice again or tell him he loves him. But he got his heart started and to the hospital, lips blue and face pale. Then he'd not fully woken up until today.

“Don't cry, cariad. Come here,” Remus said, patting the bed.

Sirius gingerly sat down and buried his face in his neck. He wasn't sure how long he cried. He knew that the mediwitch and healer both came in; he could feel the vibrations of Remus talking to them but he had no idea what was said.

Eventually, the world slowly started to come back into focus. He felt Remus playing with his hair, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and the sound of his heart beating in his chest. The very heart that was going to take his husband from him in all likelihood within the next seven days.

“We were supposed to have more time,” Sirius said when he finally sat up.

“Sirius, my love, we've had more time than we ever imagined,” Remus said.

And while that was true, it really didn't make any of this any better. They were 63, and the average lifespan for those with lycanthropy was about 45, and that number was lower for those bitten as children. And they had made the most of their time. They discovered the horcruxes through kreature, forced Dumbledore to give over what he knew, and worked through a way to deal with the one inside of Harry. Harry had helped clear Sirius’ name and they settled in a cottage in the countryside, a room set up for Harry. They'd gotten married, traveled, worked to make wolfsbane accessible and advocated for changes in the laws associated with lycanthropy.

And this wasn't a surprise, not really. Remus was wheelchair bound, he had potions for multiple organs that just couldn't keep up with the years of transformations. Moony had grown weaker right along with Remus and it was heartbreaking to see.

Remus had given up pieces of himself, his pride and independence. They'd had fights about Remus wanting Sirius to be able to have more time to himself, instead of constantly have to take care of Remus. Sirius was happy to do it but after lots of therapy and learning to communicate and compromise, they had hired someone to come in and help with the house and with Remus’ medical care. Sirius had a hard time giving over that control, but it gave Remus peace of mind.

“Sirius? Can we go home? I don't want my last days to be here,” Remus asked later that evening. Sirius had been reading to him, something that they often did, and he dropped the book.

It felt like ice had flooded his veins and then stabbed him right in his heart. Maybe they were connected now? If Remus’ stops, so will his? He almost wished that it would, but he thought of Harry and their family, and knew that no matter how much it would hurt, he couldn't truly hope for it. Although how he would go on without the man who was his other half, he had no idea.

“Yeah, Moony. Let's wait until tomorrow okay?” Sirius knew that the healer who would be on in the morning would be kind, and give Remus whatever he might need instead of being prejudiced and sending them on their way with nothing. Sirius could get them what they needed, he would do anything for Remus, but it was easier with the hospital’s help.

Sirius didn't sleep that night, watching over Remus, and he barely did the next 6 days either. Remus was much more comfortable at home, and people were in and out visiting all of the time. Everyone knew what was happening, and they had tearful conversations of course, but they tried to keep it upbeat.

Remus got weaker but he seemed at peace. He slept more and more until the morning of the full moon, when he actually was able to get up by himself and the blueish tint from his lips, fingers and toes had disappeared. Sirius hoped so much for a miracle but it was also a known thing that could happen to those who are dying. A sudden burst of energy which unfortunately usually didn't last very long. Remus danced with Sirius to their wedding song, knowing Sirius loved to dance but Remus was horrible. After that it was late afternoon and Remus convinced Sirius that he wanted to make love. Sirius was nervous, he didn't want to do anything to stress his heart, but he also knew it was a matter of time, and he wanted to give Remus everything he could ask for.

After, they lay together until it was time to go to their safe room. Remus wasn't able to take the wolfsbane this time around and they were both a little sad about it. But it turned out it wasn't needed, because minutes before moonrise, Remus looked into his eyes and said: “I'll see you in our next lifetime okay? I love you.”

Before Sirius could respond, Remus went slack in his arms and for the first time since he was four, stayed human beneath a full moon.

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

Five: Finn

Church Ruin

Athens, Greece

Finn couldn’t look away. He had bundled Logan in both of their coats, one unzipped and pulled up higher to cushion his head against the rough stone of the wall. He’d used one of Leo’s alcohol packets to clean his face. Everything was the same. The brush of his long eyelashes against his cheek, the tilt of his head against the wall and the soft curl of his fingers into his palm. The warm olive of his skin. The sound of his breathing in his sleep—or whatever this was. If Finn blinked, Logan was going to disappear again.

He kept choking up. Kept crying, silent, and then wiping at his cheeks when the wind chilled his tears. He kept touching Logan, careful to let him rest but needed to feel his warm skin. He wanted to crawl inside those doubled coats, press his cheek against his chest, listen to his heartbeat.

“Anything new?”

Finn sniffed from the cold as Leo crouched down beside him. He shook his head. “No. Just this.”

Leo made a sympathetic sound. “It’s good that you’re staying close to him. But I wanted to tell you, the boys think we should head to one of the islands. Hide out until we can figure out how to reach Remus. We can’t lie low here very well, not in a city.”

“But how…” The fear seized him again, his throat constricting. “Leo, what if he doesn’t wake up?”

“He will,” Leo said.

“What if he doesn’t know me when he does?”

“I hope he will.”

“What if he needs a doctor? What if he dies?”

“No,” Leo said. “I won’t let him.”

“You’re not a doctor. You’re a lot of things but you’re not that.”

“Don’t I know it, but they’ll be watching the hospitals, Finn. We can’t.”

Finn looked over at him. Leo’s face was taut, blue eyes taking Logan in. His eyes, his mouth, his hair, his hands. Finn liked that. He liked watching Leo look at Logan like that. Like he understood how precious Logan was. Logan could come across as a little rude, a little quiet, a little harsh. Sometimes Finn felt alone at the occasional faculty party Logan made it to. Like no one would ever understand how wonderful Logan was. His colleagues would clear their throat a little, taken aback after the initial attractive charm of how handsome Logan was. But Leo looked like he knew. Leo did know.

“I never thought I’d see him again,” Leo said in a small voice.

Finn nodded. He couldn’t speak, but he reached out and put his hand over Leo’s. Leo looked down at it. Slowly, he turned his hand around so that their palms fit together and their fingers laced. Finn squeezed hard, knowing they were both only trying to make sense of it all. It felt good to have something to hold onto.

“You know those notes,” Leo said, still looking down. “Your notes, in the hall at home? I mean, at your flat?”

Finn nodded again. He’d hardly been able to look at them but he hadn’t been able to take them down, either. Logan had framed them as a present after their wedding. Their little love confessions. Finn joked that they had said it more officially than that. Whispered into each other’s mouths after two years of knowing each other, wanting each other, kissing and kissing and kissing for the first time in the dark third floor of a Harvard library. He’d woken up the next morning, peaked just one eye open, to find Logan balancing a note on his bedside table against his water glass before sneaking out for his eight AM. He’d closed his eye in time to feel Logan, thinking he was still asleep, press the most tender kiss to his forehead.

“I don’t like that he doesn’t know they’re there,” Leo said.

Finn realized his eyes had closed, the ghost of the kiss laying over him like snow.

Framed love. In the lonely apartment. He had a photo of Logan somewhere, grinning crookedly as he put the nails in the walls, fresh off their honeymoon, tanned from the beach, hair honey highlighted by the sun. Sentimental. So sentimental.

Leo’s silhouette standing in the hallway, usually taking his coat off or putting it back on, was just as clear an image. Logan’s voice from the kitchen. Leo—Lay-oh, the way he said it. Finn loved every fucking sound out of his mouth—Leo, I’m burning your instructions, this water won’t boil. Leo, in no hurry, re-reading every word. Sometimes Finn wondered if he could tell what sentence, which frame, he was reading from just by the tilt of his head. Logan’s I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m yours now, or his own, I’ve loved you for so long, baby. So long.

“I know,” Finn whispered. He squeezed Leo’s hand again. He thought of Leo pressed all along his back after realizing that Logan was alive and had no idea who he was. “Hopefully…Hopefully we’ll all get to go home soon and all of this will just be a memory.” He sighed, watching Logan breathe. “One that we all remember and can all let fade.”

Leo’s thumb brushed over Finn’s knuckles. “Finn?”

“Hm?” Finn reached out again, pushing the top of the coat zipper away from Logan’s cheek. The metal would be cold. Logan was perfectly still. Finn looked up, though, when Leo stayed quiet. He had watched the gesture. “Yeah?”

Leo blinked. Shook his head. “Never mind. Um.” He pulled his hand away from Finn’s. “Fuck, okay, look.” Leo reached into his jacket and took out a gun. It was small, smaller than the ones Finn watched Leo and the others strap to their hips and backs.

“Whoa,” Finn said.

“I want you to take this,” Leo said.

Finn stared at the pistol. “Leo, I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to shoot that.”

Leo frowned. His eyes darted to Logan. “I always thought Logan might teach you.”

Finn shook his head. “No. I mean, we tossed the idea around, but we never…You know.” Finn shrugged one shoulder. “I was his break from it all.”

“Well, not anymore. Not after Jack. Take it now.” Leo put the gun into Finn’s hand. “Look. This is the safety. Keep that on at all times. And this—”

In the next moment, there was a tight pressure around his neck and Finn found the air knocked from his lungs as he was yanked backwards. For the second time that day, the mouth of the gun was pressed against him. His temple this time.

“Move and I kill him,” Logan’s voice said from behind him, right next to his ear.

“Lo,” Finn gasped out, clutching at Logan’s arm. Blood rushed in his ears at the pressure against his throat. He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know you. “Lo, please—”

“You,” Logan said, and Leo’s blue eyes widened, his hands raised away from his weapons. “What do you want from me?”

“We don’t want to hurt you, Logan,” Leo said and Finn was surprised by how even his voice came out. “Please don’t hurt him. Please, you don’t want to hurt him.” Leo’s eyes flicked nervously to Finn’s, and Finn clutched harder at Logan’s arm, coughing.

Holding onto Logan’s arm so tight, the music beginning. Trying not to watch his mom dabbing at her eyes. Logan’s soft smile when they faced each other at the top of the aisle. “You don’t have to hold on so tight, Rouge. I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

“Tell me who you are,” Logan said. The cold metal dug into Finn’s cheek. “Tell me. Why are they after me?”

“We’re your friends, Logan. Your teammates. We’re trying to figure that out, too,” Leo said. “You’re not alone. They’re after Remus, too. Do you know Remus?”

“Non,” Logan said.

Leo tried again, hesitantly. “Pascal?”

Finn badly wished he could see Logan’s face. All he could stare at was Leo’s blue eyes. Leo shook his head softly. “No? That’s alright.”

“Non. I…I don’t know—I don’t know anything,” Logan said, and Finn’s chest ached.

“We’ll help you,” Finn managed to say, and it was so stupid to feel relieved to be settled against Logan’s chest even with a gun to his head, but he was. “Logan, we’ll help you—”

But then he was being shoved forward, momentarily on his side before Logan had thrown a leg over his hips, pinning him to the ground with the gun right over his heart.

“You’re the one trying to get close,” Logan said. God, how many times had Logan looked down at him just like this, how many times had he been a weight over Finn, just like this…but not like this at all. “My husband. I don’t even know I was—”

Gay, was perhaps what he was about to say. Or, in younger Logan fashion, like that. Finn felt like he’d been slammed back nine years. Back to the very beginning. A reluctant Logan. A confused Logan. A young Logan, scared to admit to all the different ways he wanted Finn. Logan’s mouth pressed into a thin line, keeping the word in just like he used to. Finn had spent a good two years watching as Logan began to smile while using it—or at least, something like that word.

All I know is that I want a Finn O’Hara, Logan had laughed into his mouth that perfect summer. New York City. Burning sunset and dinner on a boat, humidity curling Logan’s hair and after dinner drinks on a rooftop. Before the agency had spotted Logan. Before any of it. And a Finn O’Hara wants me.

He still wants you, Finn wished he could say. I still want you. Do you still want me?

“My phone,” Finn whispered. “My phone, in my pocket.” He moved his eyes down to his left. “Right there.”

Logan looked, and Finn took the instant to look back at Leo, upside-down, and give his head a small shake. He won’t hurt me. Finn knew it in his bones. He can’t hurt me.

“You can’t trick me with—”

“You don’t have to open it,” Leo said. “Just look at the screensaver.”

That was better, Finn thought. He was going to have Logan look at pictures of their wedding, but this was better. It felt raw. Finn loved that photo. He hoped Logan could somehow feel that. Or even remember it. What had he done before? How had he broken through and why had it caused so much pain?

Logan, without moving the gun, dug into Finn’s pocket for the phone. Finn felt his hands search for weapons, too, briefly. Logan’s eyes caught on his when he found him completely unarmed. Finn couldn’t see the screen, but he could see Logan’s face as he took it in: Himself, soft as sunset. His brows drew together and he stared, and stared. When the screen went black, he tapped it to see the photo again.

“That’s you,” Finn said. “It’s you.”

Tentatively, Finn tried to sit up. It was a mistake. Logan flinched hard, renewing the angle of the gun, which had drifted some in distraction. He dropped the phone and pinned Finn’s hands above his head. He looked more panicked than before.

“Why don’t I know you? I should know you if that’s real—”

“It is,” Finn pleaded. He tried to free his hands. If he could just touch him. “Please, Lo, it’s me. It’s Finn.”

Logan was fighting him, gun digging in, hand back around Finn’s throat, but Finn didn’t care. He didn’t care.

“Finn.” Leo’s voice sounded far away. Panicked, but far away. “Stop. Stop it.”

“Harvard,” Finn choked out. He kept his eyes locked on Logan’s green ones. “Harvard, the third floor of the library.”

“What?” Logan said. “Who are you—” But he’d winced. Finn saw it, he winced.

Finn let out a low noise and renewed his efforts, settling all the strength he could find into keeping himself from shaking. The fact that it was a gun was beginning to settle in. Mostly though, he was afraid for Logan. Afraid he would do something that, if he ever came back to himself, he would regret.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Leo pleaded. “And you’re not our captive. Just let him talk to you, Logan—”

But Finn knew better than that. Logan was stubborn. When he had something set in his mind, it took months to undo it—sometimes years. Not minutes, especially not on such uneven ground as this. Finn would have to try and trip his wires again, jump him right back into himself, even if only for a few more seconds.

“The hot chocolate machine,” Finn said. “Third floor. Harvard. Library. You love it, I think it’s disgusting but you loved it and I brought you some while I was helping you study. The English was hard for you back then.”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them wide again, like he had double vision.

“You know,” Finn said. You know. It’s in there. “Before you could speak ten languages.”

“Finn,” Leo said. “This isn’t the way. It’s hurting him.”

“I don’t speak ten languages,” Logan bit out.

Leo said something fast in a language Finn couldn’t even begin to identify. Russian? Logan’s eyes snapped up. He’d understood.

“I know it’s confusing,” Leo began to say, but then Logan was looking at Finn again.

“The library,” Logan repeated.

“Yes.” Finn wrapped his fingers around Logan’s wrist, the hand on his neck. He realized he was nodding, almost frantically. He could see them in that memory. Standing close together in the tiny, freezing corner with the vending machine. The flimsy paper cup filled with steaming, powdery hot chocolate. “I said, that’s too fucking sweet. I said that I didn’t know how you could stand it…And you said—”

“I’m—” Logan began, and then cut off. His eyes were wide, searching Finn’s face. It wasn’t the recognition that he’d seen before, not the real knowing, but it was something. It was finishing Finn’s sentence.

I’m sweet. I’m sweet.

And then Finn had kissed him for the first time. Terrified. Not sure Logan even wanted him to. But they had spent what felt like an eternity kissing in that freezing corner, alone on the library’s third floor. So long that all of the censored lights shut off and thrown them into blissful darkness—was that the same darkness at the edges of his vision now? Finn tried to blink the spots away. Air. He needed air.

Logan’s eyes fell shut, lips pulling back to reveal teeth grit in pain. He dropped his forehead to Finn’s chest. Finn realized he was sweating, they both were, despite the chill in the air.

And then Logan was gone. His weight, the warmth, the gun, the hand around his throat.

Finn coughed hard. Bitter bile in his throat, something rushing in his ears. His pulse maybe. His blood. Leo knelt beside him, tumbling against his side.

“Finn—” Leo began to say, but Finn was already pushing himself up, terrified, terrified that Logan would already be running. His back hurt. His head throbbed where it had hit against the stone, and Logan, Logan, Logan, gone again gone—

But he wasn’t. Logan had pressed himself back into the stone corner where he had been sleeping. He looked feverish, but he was looking at Finn so carefully that Finn didn’t dare move.

“Logan?” Finn whispered.

“What’s happening to me?” Logan looked down at the gun, like he had forgotten he was holding it.

“You’re memory, it’s been—wiped? Or something,” Leo said gently. “It’s not your fault. Logan, it isn’t your fault. You and Remus, we thought you both were dead. We only just found you.” Leo let out a shaky sigh. “We’re trying to figure out what happened, too.”

Logan just stared at Leo. “I can see the library. But I don’t remember…I don’t understand.”

“Me neither,” said a voice from behind them, and both Leo and Finn whipped around. It was like seeing ghosts. With the stone and the sea and the crumbling church, it was right out of a novel.

Remus was standing there, leaning against a far wall on the sea-side of the church. The wind coming off the water beat at his tawny hair and the brown, old looking jacket he wore.

“Remus,” Leo breathed.

“How do you know my name,” Remus said. He held no weapon that Finn could see, but the very sight of him held both Leo and Finn in place well enough, “but I don’t know yours?”

[junkiepunkie]

Post-Prank realization -Remus Lupin oneshot

[remus wakes up in the hospital wing post-full moon, brutally hurt and still bleeding, no one is there. Madame Pomfrey is busy with a patient loaded with dragon pox so he excuses himself, saying he needs to go to the loo, and hobbles back up to the gryffindor common room, on the way Snape and him collide]

"oi! Watch where you're..." Remus cut himself off, seeing the petrified, yet slightly sympathetic look thrown by Snape, who looked seven shades too green to be feeling fine "...going... You know what never mind"

Snape gulped heavily, his eyes looked almost glassy upon seeing Remus and his hand was clutching something so agressively in his hand that Remus could see the tension radiate throughout his whole body.

"Snivil- Severus, what is that?" He asked tentatively, in that moment the hatred for Snape faded to increadible concern. He looked like he'd seen a ghost- or well, an unplanned ghost.

The words had no sooner left Remus' mouth than Snape had lunged forward, grabbing Remus' forearm and harshly yanking up his sleeve.

"hey! What the fuck-" an unholy scream wracked Remus' entire body, cutting his complaint short. In that moment Remus turned the same green as Snape. He knew that burn well, dispite the rarity of feeling it, the few times he had had left their scars, just as incurable as those made by his own claws. 

Silver.

Shit.

Now, Remus was smart enough to know that this could only be bad, Snape could tell the whole school, his clueless friends, Snape could probably get Remus expelled.

"I'm not going to tell anyone" He hissed, quiet as a doormouse but with the power of an army.

For the first time in his life, Remus truely felt he understood why Lilly called Snape a great wizard, he had a drive behind his eyes, hidden in all aspects of life apart from his fits of rage. In this moment -though it sickened him to say it- Remus knew Snape could very much kill him. "I'll say nothing because it wasn't your fault, it was theirs, and, though I hate your guts and your friends, I have a slither of respect for you. But don't believe that I'll deny it if anyone asks, and do not test me, because that layer of respect is thin and extremely fragile. Now run along and for the love of god get new friends. See you later, Moony."

Ouch. Both from the silver and Snapes mouth, Ouch.

Remus turned away the second Snape lifted the silver to reveal a burning red knife shaped mark on his arm that Remus knew would not fade for a long time. He all but ran into the fat lady's portrait, spitting out the password as He fled inside. He went straight for the staircase, hoping to make a beeline for his bed and tell the marauders everything, maybe he could even have a cry with Sirius later on, anything to distract him from thoughts of Snape's speech and whatever he meant by 'it wasn't your fault, it was theirs'. Unfortunately for Remus -and his plans for a quiet night in- no sooner was he up the stairs to his dorm than Sirius was dashing past, sobbing his grey eyes out as if someone had died. Shit what if someone's died. Remus groaned at the thought. Today was not the day. Despite Remus' urge to ignore all commotion and just try and sleep off the sting of silver, this was Sirius and he needed to make sure he was ok. Immediately. Remus turned on his heel and went to follow after his friend/sexual tension partner/much needed emotional crutch, but James had his arm out, blocking Remus from descending any further as Sirius dashed from the common room, quicker than Remus had ever seen him.

"James move! I want to check that he's ok!" Remus exclaimed, anger slowly bubbling due to a mix of his increadibly rough full moon and the Snape commotion.

James continued to hold Remus back, both boys thankful that the common room was abandoned at this early sunday hour. 

"listen mate, we- erm- well, you'd better sit down" James stated. A few steps down Peter nodded sadly, too afraid to speak lest the words come out wrong.

Remus laughed coldly

"you're telling me! I just saw Snape and look what the cock did!" he rolled up his sleeve as he finally caved and let James lead him up the stairs. He was cluttering at almost indecipherable speeds "you know what that means right? Snape knows! James, Snape knows what I am and-"

"i know Remus... Remus if you'd just listen-"

"and then he had the fucking nerve to somehow blame you guys! Like what the fuck even was that?! Fucking batshit am I right?!?"

"REMUS!" James exclaimed, quickly catching himself and swallowing thickly as though it would help him develop some very called for empathy and patience. "Moony... Mate... It is our fault, or, well.."

"its Sirius" Pete butted in. Turning vivid pink as he realized what he'd done. Turning on his heel he exited the room.

Remus breathed shakily and sat on the edge of his bed, the forgotten aches caused by the injuries he suffered the night before hitting him like a ton of bricks. The entire right row of broken ribs and his fucked up calf were now gruelingly aparent. 

"what did Pete mean? How could Sirius be responsible for me being a werewolf?! That’s just dumb” he laughed nervously.

James closed his eyes and took in a deep breathed, before talking. Remus did the same but It seemed to do nothing.

"Remus, you know that none of us were there last night don't you?" he started "well, thats a lie, Pete was -and he tried his best- but a rat and a werewolf.. It didn't make much difference. After two hours he knew It was better to just leave"

Remus wanted to interrupt, say that he was fine with no one coming because It wasn't their responsibility to look after him and, if thats why Sirius is upset then he should know that it’s fine. He wanted to say all that and more, but he didn't, he just sat and listened.

"well, we were coming, we really were, only Sirius told us there was something he had to do first and, well, he'd had an argument with Snape earlier that day and something didn't feel right, so I decided i'd wait for Sirius before I followed Pete into the whomping willow." Remus nodded along, although he really wasn't sure where this could possibly be going.

"he turned up an hour after the full moon came up, I- well I had to listen to you screaming the whole time while I couldn't do anything about It like i usually would, so i was pissed off when he showed up, more so when i realised he'd brought Snape. And way way more so when i saw him show Snape the knot on the tree..."

If Remus could rank pain, silver would be an 8.5, transformation would have to be a 9. But this.. This implication, the silence in which Remus realised what had happened last night, the moment in which his whole would came crumbling down around him and everything made such painful sense. Well, this was a clear ten. 

Dispite this, James continued.

"So I jumped in, just as Snape was about to follow Sirius, I screamed that he had to leave when Sirius turned back and started telling Snape It was all fine, that It was just you studying in there. I- well, I tried to think on my feet, so I petrified Snape and I- I punched Sirius in the face, kicked him too, started proper fucking him up. He started crying and I was going to leave him and join you, but Pete came out and me and him had to carry Snivelous back in. But Remus before I petrified Snape we all heard you howl and- well…"

Remus bit his gum hard and forced himself to adopt an eerily calm demeanor . He sat and breathed and waited for James to say something, anything, but he didn't. Dispite himself Remus closed his eyes and asked the only question that mattered to him, the one question he wanted to ask. Unfortunately, It would be the one that hurt him the most.

"is he alright?" the question was caring and quiet, but the tone was scathing.

"what?" James asked, stunned.

"Sirius. Was he ok?" 

James faltered, pausing for a long time before answering, when he did his voice was soft. As If he was talking about someone dead. To Remus he might aswell have been.

"eh, I knocked him out, broke his nose. When he woke up this morning It look him a while to even remember what happened. When he did he freaked right out, you saw him, he's-"

"James humour me and just tell me he's alright" Remus snapped, the calm had gone now and in its place was rage.

James did that singular breathy chuckle one does when shocked and frustrated before speaking.

"alright, moony, physically he is fine"

Remus nodded meekly and collapsed back so that he was strewn across his bed. James followed his lead, laying himself directly beside Remus on the bed. In a moment of solidarity the two boys elbowed eachother, both offering the other a weak unhappy smile. Remus had said It once and he'll say It as many times as he could: James Potter is a fantastic friend.

As soon as the moment of content came, It was gone, both boys letting out defeated sighs as they turned to look at eachother, no funny buisness, just words and two pairs of honest eyes.

"I'm going to hate him forever now, you know?" Remus stated. It was true, he could never see things going back to how they were ever again. Sirius had gone and fucked It up, all of It.

James smiled again, a small, sad smile, but there was an undetectable trace of some genuine happieness.

"maybe you’ll hate him, but you'll forgive him eventually Moony." he said, as though it were plain as day.

Remus raised his brows in unfriendly challenge.

"I will not. He's fucking ruined it all James. This is- I mean, it's unforgivable!"

James nodded "oh yeah no, it's the worst thing he's ever done. It was dangerous and inconsiderate and down right psycho and he deserves no mercy, but let me ask you this Remus. Tell me why I think him 'ruining it all' means more to you than if I were to do the exact same thing he did?"

Remus sat bolt upright, the crushing pain in his chest strinking him as insignificant at that moment in time.

"what’s that meant to mean?" he asked defensively

James smirked as he too sat up. The smirk he gave was still tinged with unhappieness, but now there was a slight playfullness behind it.

"it means Moony, that I don't think that your friendship with me and Pete makes you feel the same as-"

"of course it makes me feel the same! Why wouldn't it, we're all good mates -great mates- we're family! I feel equally about all of you! So don't be- don't be so fucking daft Prongs! What was that even supposed to mean?!? Haha" Remus was panicking, badly. His hands were sweaty and his heart was all but palpatating. He could feel the green colour from earlier making a comeback.

James' face returned to its previous state of severity but his eyes stayed kind, welcoming. They were an ocean of comfort against his deadly serious features. He seemed to manage to make his face both intimidating and strict while also staying reliable and homely. He never once looked away from Remus as he took his hand in his, giving it a much needed reassuring squeeze.

"it means that I see the way you look at him when he can't see you. And I hear how to hum his favourite song when he's not around. I notice when you wait for him to agree to things before you make up your mind, and i've seen how he can calm you down when you're about to change on a full moon and you cry" He said each word gently, never letting go of Remus' hand, even when Remus began to tear up in fear that he'd be rejected

"He's your Lilly" he continued "and Moony -Remus- that is absolutely fine by me."

Wow. Hearing those words, not feeling any loss of contact dispite what James now knew, it triggered a full on breakdown. Remus collapsed into James' arms like a bundle of rags, his head resting on James' shoulder as his body wracked up and down violently. James didn't hesitate to hug Remus tight into his chest, patting his back as he cried and humming gently in an attempt to calm him down. Remus recognised the song "love reign o'er me" by the who, one of Sirius' favourites. It should have made his blood boil, but It didn't, not at all, no it just made the poor boy tired, so much so that he calmed down almost instantainiously. James sighed happily as Remus' sobs faded to cries, the whimpers before dying completely, leaving him just breathing shakily.

"this doesn't change anything James" Remus spoke up after a while longer being cradled by his friend, for once in his life feeling a sense of platonic understanding. "I'm still dead set on hating Sirius"

James smiled "thats fine Moony"

"and you know we're not dating" Remus yawned, his eyes fluttering closed, blinks becoming slower and slower.

"still fine Remus" 

"and the fact I like him, and that I'm gay doesn't mean i'll put this all behind me" Remus eyes shut fully now, his words turning to soft mumbles "anyway, he doesn't like me and now I don't like him. So we're even..."

"still fine Remus," James looked down at the sleeping boy in his arms and moved to gently lay the boy down so he could sleeping properly. "but just so you know sleepyhead, i've also seen how he looks at you when you can't see him"

Remus didn't hear that last sentence, and if he did he probably wouldn't have believed it, but James knew that it was a fact that made all the difference, whether Remus knew it or not. Remus may be stubborn, but Sirius was more so, he would try to make this better until Remus cracked and let him.

That night, Sirius limped back in to the dorm, eyes red and puffy, one stained purple and black from the night before. The first thing asked was how Remus was doing. James had only just begun to explain how Remus was first defeated and then angry, and how his chest seemed dented from his rough night, when Sirius snapped and said:

"James humour me and just tell me he's alright!"

James could have laughed. Yeah, he thought, everything was going to be just fine.

[kellanine]

Three years of work and 200,000 words later and I have ONE chapter left to write of my Wolfstar Hogwarts-era fic Only Ever You. I haven't put a word on A03 yet. I wanted it to be finished! The time is coming!

So much angst. So much longing. So much of Remus's life falling apart, and grief and anxiety and hurt/comfort galore ...

A snippet from Chapter 1 for all you lovely people:

It was the second day after the full moon, and as much as he’d insisted to his friends that he was ready to rejoin the land of the living, Remus Lupin had second thoughts after James Potter closed the bathroom door behind him and he bent over to remove his pajamas. A wave of dizziness swept over him and pain erupted in his shoulders and hips. Biting back a cry, he lowered himself gingerly to sit on the small bench beside the sink and remained very still, waiting for the walls to stop spinning. In an effort to help them along, he concentrated on taking slow, deliberate breaths.

He had hoped this month would be better, but maybe it was time to start making peace with the facts. Over the past several months, it had begun to sink in that a day in the hospital wing, followed by a night in his own soft bed in Gryffindor Tower, were no longer enough for him to fully recover from the full moon. Back in second or third year, he would have been up on the second day, a bit stiff and moving slowly, but ready to return to classes with his friends by breakfast time. But now, his body was tired. It had been through so much. Somewhere in a distant part of his mind, he had always known that as the years crept on, his body would begin to slowly break down. But he had thought he had at least a decade or two before he needed to think about that. He was only sixteen.

After a minute, the dizziness passed, and Remus stood back up, slowly, and reached to turn on the shower.

For some reason, he could not bring himself to voice any of these thoughts to James, or Sirius, or Peter. They worried enough, and they already did so much. And, really, it could have been a lot worse. Prongs and Padfoot generally managed to prevent the wolf from hurting himself too badly, so there was usually less blood and fewer new scars than there used to be. As for the rest of it—the pain in his bones, the exhaustion, the aching muscles, the dizzy spells—there was nothing to be done, so what good would it do to dwell? He just needed to push through it as best he could, and get to the other side. For most days out of the month, he was just fine.

Remus let the water get as hot as he could stand while he managed to step out of his pajamas, and then let out a long exhale when he moved under the spray, letting it soothe his muscles and bones. He decided he was being dramatic. This was all he needed, really. He never felt entirely human again until he’d had a real shower. But Godric, he was tired. His legs felt shaky, so he washed quickly, wiping away some flecks of dried blood on his side that Pomfrey’s spells had missed, and scraping the dirt of their midnight wanderings from underneath his fingernails. He bent his head down and let soap and water run over his hair and the back of his neck, washing away the sweaty grime that had dried there during his fitful rest.

For a moment, it felt wonderful. Then he raised his head and realized at once that the bending forward had been a mistake. The dizziness returned, and this time it was joined by a feeling as if his head had floated loose from his body. It didn’t pass. His stomach roiled with nausea. His vision became spotty. He blinked slowly. A quiet ringing began in his ears, and grew louder.

Uh oh…

He had no choice. He tried to call out for his friends. His mouth moved, but no sound emerged. He tried again. “Help?” he managed weakly. Desperate to steady himself, he pressed one hand to the shower’s cool stone wall, fisted the other in the shower curtain, and told himself to breathe. It was fine. He was fine.

*********

A thick, heavy silence hung in the air of the sixth year boys’ dormitory in Gryffindor tower, broken only by the gentle pattering of late winter sleet on the rattling windowpane.

Peter darted wide, worried eyes from James to Sirius and back again, and Sirius tried not to feel a flare of annoyance. Peter always expected them to have a plan, to produce all the ideas, however wild, that might solve their latest problem. Most of the time, Sirius didn’t mind. It was what came naturally to them, and Merlin knew Sirius didn’t want anyone telling him what to do, unless it was James with a brilliant, hare-brained scheme. But today was different.

Sirius was at a loss.

He leaned heavily against the closed bathroom door, twisting his wand between his fingers and feeling completely, uselessly defeated.

“He’s not okay,” he said at last, his voice piercing the tension in the room like the tip of a knife.

“Definitely not,” Peter agreed.

James let out a sigh from where he had reclined on his unmade bed, and flipped closed the latest issue of Quidditch Today. There was a female keeper on the cover, her team robes stretched tightly across her abundant chest as she laid herself out on her broom, blocking a quaffle over and over again with her outstretched toes.

“He always feels better after a shower,” James said, sounding weary. “He’ll be fine.”

Sirius scoffed. Of the three of them, James was usually the best attuned to Remus’s physical condition at any given time, so Sirius didn’t understand whether James just hadn’t been paying attention, or if he was testing out some new type of wishful thinking. But surely he’d noticed Remus looking even paler than usual as they’d helped him to the bathroom, James holding him by one arm and Sirius by the other, while Peter had looked on, frowning.

“We’re not doing enough,” said Sirius. “We need to take out more books. In the restricted section. We’ve missed something, I know it—”

“Padfoot,” James cut him off, sitting up and setting the magazine aside, along with his glasses. He rubbed at his eyes. “We’ve been over this. We’ve read everything. We’re doing everything we can. And he’s told us himself, it’s better than it used to be, before we became Animagi, right?”

“Better?” said Sirius. “It’s not better! Yeah, maybe he’s not as lonely anymore, and the wolf has his fun running around with us, but the wolf isn’t Remus. Did you notice the way he was breathing after he changed back this time? Or that he can barely swallow because he screamed his throat raw?”

“Of course I noticed.”

“Let’s do more research, then. We can’t have read everything—”

“But the books all say the same things, mate,” James countered. “You know that.”

“The restricted section—”

“Been there.”

“Madam Pomfrey—”

“You know we can’t.”

Sirius threw a scowl at James, but fell silent. Peter watched their exchange but said nothing. Instead, he stood and took the water pitcher and glass from Remus’s bedside, wiped the glass with a clean cloth, and refilled the pitcher from the end of his wand, casting a cooling charm and holding it until the sides of the pitcher frosted. James replaced his glasses, and then waved his own wand at Remus’s bed, muttering an incantation that made the sheets and blankets lift up, snap straight, and lay themselves gently down, as the pillows shook themselves and landed neatly on top of the made bed.

Sirius pouted.

“Sorry, Pads,” said James gently. “You know if there was anything else, I’d be first in line—”

First in line for what, however, he never said. His words were cut short by the sound of a sudden, enormous crash from inside the bathroom.

A single beat passed, and then James leapt from his bed. Sirius, however, was closer, and burst into the bathroom first, a cloud of steam engulfing him, to find the shower curtain and the metal rod that held it in a messy pile at the bottom of the shower. Water was flying everywhere, and Remus was a crumpled heap in the middle of it all.

[moonstruckme]

hiiiii mae!! hope ur having a good day/night, i was wondering if you would do a emt!marauders (or just remus) fic with a reader who maybe has past medical trauma or something so she really hates going to the doctors and avoids unplanned visits at all costs and one day she gets hurt doing something and she tells herself she’s fine but she’s really not (maybe she has like a concussion or something) and she tries to tell the boys she’s okay and she doesn’t need to go to the hospital but they’re like “yes you do u literally don’t know what day it is” and she kinda starts freaking out and they comfort her????

so sorry if you’ve done something like this you’ve written a LOT of fics (which is amazing i love them all) and i haven’t gotten the chance to read them all yet! anyways hope you have a great day i love ur fics so much!!!!!!

Thank you for your request, love you <3

cw: concussion, hospital mention, implied medical fear/past trauma

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 770 words

“This is supposed to be the sort of thing that only happens to old ladies,” Sirius mutters. “Look at James, dollface.” 

James’ smile is encouraging. “He knows he’s full of shit. We see people fall in showers all the time, it’s not an age thing. You don’t have to be geriatric for soap to be slippery.” 

You know, distantly, that they’re both trying to keep things light for your benefit, but their playacting isn’t helping you. You feel trapped, backed into a corner, and your lovely boyfriends who only want the best for you feel like your captors. 

Sirius clicks off the light he was shining in your eyes just as Remus comes back with your clothes. They exchange a look you don’t like. 

“Here, sweetheart, put this on.” Remus helps you get a sweatshirt over your head, extra careful to hold the collar away from the aching bump on the back of your head. 

You stand from the bed bemusedly as he starts putting your sweatpants on for you, too. You don’t love the vibe of all this coddling, either; the boys are usually only this delicate with you when they’re very concerned, very pitying, or both. 

“What’s going on?” you ask, though you already know. It’s not as if you would usually hang about in your towel all night after a shower, but they’re getting you dressed for a reason. 

James’ brows twitch together sympathetically. Sirius’ voice is gentle. “Baby, we need to go get your head looked at.” 

Your upset blooms fast and hot, tears choking you. “Why?” 

“You have a concussion, sweet girl. It seems fairly bad already, and it could get worse.” 

“But you’re…you always say hospitals can’t even do anything for those.” You know you sound childish, whiny and difficult, but you can’t help yourself. Your boyfriends don’t seem to hold it against you. James rubs your arm while Remus pulls your socks on with sweet, lingering touches. A tear squeezes out of your eye. “Why do I have to go?” 

“You’re right, there’s not much they can do,” says Remus. His voice is calm and even, a balm to your frazzled nerves. “But a concussion can be dangerous, and without tests we won’t know how dangerous it is or if there’s anything they can help with.” 

“That’s all we’re going for, angel,” James says lightly. “Just some tests. It won’t take terribly long, and we can stay with you most of the time.” 

You’re hardly hearing him, shaking your head despite the way it aches. More tears crest your cheeks, your breaths wet and quick. “Can’t we wait and go tomorrow?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” James takes your hand, squeezing your fingers. “We can’t, my love, but it’s going to be okay.” 

“I really can’t.” You pull your hand from his, wiping underneath your eyes. Your hair is still wet from the shower, cold seeping into your fresh sweatshirt. “I can’t do it. Please don’t make me.” Your voice chokes into a quiet squeak on the last few words. 

Remus coos and sits beside you on the bed, wrapping you up in a hug. You cry into his shoulder as he rocks you gently, murmuring against the side of your head. “Please,” you try again. 

He holds you closer. “I know, darling.” His voice is a low whisper. “I know it’s hard for you, and I know it’s scary, but we’ll be there with you. It’s not going to be as bad as you’re thinking. What we’re going for is really very simple, and Sirius can explain it to you on the way, hm? You’ll be alright.” 

When you calm some, he goes to warm the car, passing you off to Sirius and James to get your shoes on. 

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you, baby,” Sirius promises, kissing the shell of your ear as he walks you outside. His arm is heavy around your shoulders and James is quick to take your hand after locking the door behind you, bolstering you for what’s ahead. “You think we’re gonna let you get hurt? This is going to be the easiest hospital visit you ever had. We run this place, they’ll have us in and out.” 

“I wouldn’t say we run it,” Remus says drily as you three pile into the backseat. “More like we engage with it, in twelve hour shifts, four to five times a week.” 

“But we do have lots of friends,” James chips in. 

“Exactly.” Sirius busies himself with wiping the last of your tears while James gets your seatbelt on. “Like the radiographer at Bellevue. You’ll see, baby. We’ve got you covered.”

[luveline]

for a heavy request, maybe the marauders after you've been in a car accident, no heavy injuries if you don't want to, but just them worrying? ily <3

love u <;3

“I always thought it would be me,” James says when he sees you, his backpack falling down his shoulder as he rushes to your side. His eyes go glassy when he sees the cut on your cheek. “Oh, no way. Look at your poor cheek. Look at your arm!” He frowns, a deep wrinkle crinkling the skin between his eyebrows. “Sweetheart.” 

You shudder as he takes your face into his hands. “You’re really cold,” you mumble. 

“Are you in pain?” 

“Yeah, Jamie.” You smile as best as you can. He looks so worried. “They pulled a lot of glass out of my arm.” 

He eyes the length of your arm wrapped in white bandages. “Yeah? How many stitches?” 

“Twenty two.” 

“Okay. Twenty two presents, then.” 

James helps you settle into your hospital bed. The crash wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was still too much to walk off. He fluffs your pillow and helps you lay back, pulls a blanket over your legs, and then tracks down a nurse for another when your shivering doesn’t calm. His hair tickles your arms and your face as he tucks you in, kisses your cheek, the smell of his cologne a nice familiarity to cut the clinical sting of disinfectant. 

He looks like he might cry when he’s staring at you, but he doesn’t crack. “That’s better,” he says, taking your hand as he sits in the vinyl wrapped chair beside you. “They’ll be here with your things any minute now, and we can get you out of your flirty dress.” 

“It’s a hospital gown,” you mumble through a smile. You’d laugh if you had the energy. 

“Yeah, babe. You’re practically naked.” 

“Am not.” 

He kisses your knuckles. “Agree to disagree.” 

Remus and Sirius arrive trying to push through the door at the same time. Sirius wins, willing to roughhouse where Remus isn’t, propelling himself toward your bed in a rush. “What the fuck happened?” he asks. 

“They went through a red light,” you say, relieved to see them both. Sirius shocks you when he goes in for a hug, quick but careful, his hair smushed into your forehead as he covers the back of your head protectively. “I didn’t see them coming. I was just sitting there and they hit me.” 

They drove their car thirty miles per hour into the passenger side, which then pushed you into oncoming traffic. Sudden and then done. You closed your eyes to brave and opened them to find yourself covered in glass and blood with a bruise like a lash down your chest. Explaining it, remembering it again so soon, your eyes fill with tears that you choke around as Remus grabs your leg. 

“You’re okay,” James says, giving your hand a good squeeze. 

“Yeah, you’re okay,” Sirius says, quieter, his lips cold on your face. 

Sirius lets you go after a quick appraisal of your face and lets Remus crowd you. He hugs you for far longer than the other two, not because he likes you more or anything, but because he’s very, very tactile, and because you need it. He sits on the side of the bed and uses his height over you to wrap you up, avoiding your arm but otherwise smothering you in a soft affection. “It’s okay,” he repeats the sentiment of the others, kneading the top of your arm. 

Remus looks pale in the bright white fluorescents, but he doesn’t falter nor shake. He has a remarkable talent for turning everything off when he needs to. You shudder like a kid through tears, your arm a constant pang of pain. The whiplash is suffocating. Each breath you takes doesn’t feel like enough. 

Remus counts you through big breaths. “Just do it with me, hm? Nice slow breaths. You got it.” 

“I’ll get you some water,” James says. 

Sirius opens the bag they’d first ignored to unveil a shoving of things, including a water bottle and a three pack of juice cartons. “We brought choices.” 

He pierces the carton with a straw for you and hands it over. You sip at it feebly through panicked pants, the straw pushed between your teeth. Remus runs your arm with his thumb encouragingly. “Sorry,” you say. 

Three voices chime in at one. “Don’t be sorry!” Remus says, as James and Sirius both say, “No.” 

“It was really scary,” you confess, tears slinking off of your lashes as you blink. 

“I bet it was,” Remus says, “but you’re okay. We’re gonna get you fixed up and back home so quickly, dove, you don’t need to worry.” 

“I’m not worried,” —James winces visibly at your shaky voice and reaches over to rub your thighs— “I just didn’t know what was happening.” 

“It must’ve been so scary,” James sympathises. 

You look for Sirius through their embraces. He’s frowning, nearly glaring, his gaze on your bandaged arm. “We’ll sort everything out,” he promises, raising his head. “Promise.” 

You nod quickly and then slower. “Yeah, I know.” 

You’re bathed in hugs for a while. The nurse comes back to see how you are and giggles at your company. “Such handsome boys,” she says, “who’s the lucky one?” 

To which they all say, “Me.” She declares them the funniest bunch of boys she’s ever met. 

[disgracefulthings]

Someone has asked me to recommend some fics, I don't think this is what they meant, but here is a list of my favorite fanfiction I have read over the years

Harry Potter

Text Talk

merlywhirls

Summary:

Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number.

My thoughts: I don't know if there is a wolfstar shipper who hasn't read this story, but it is amazing. A majority of the story is told through text messages, which is a real creative choice and I absolutely believed the author pulled it off!

I Know Not, and I Cannot Know; Yet I Live and I Love

billowsandsmoke

Summary:

Severus Snape has his emotions in check. He knows that he experiences anger and self-loathing and a bitter yearning, and that he rarely deviates from that spectrum… Until the first-year Luna Lovegood arrives to his class wearing a wreath of baby’s breath. Over the next six years, an odd friendship grows between the two, and Snape is not sure how he feels about any of it.

My thoughts: A fanfiction that explores the relationship between a student and a teacher that doesn't make it romantic??? Hallelujah, never thought I would see the day. Not gonna lie, this is my favorite fanfiction of all time. While I like Snape in the original story, he doesn't develop as a character, like, at all. Which is why I can see why people don't like him, but this story gives him some development, and his relationship with Luna is absolutely heartwarming. And to those fans who think Harry got over his abuse of Snape too fast, I recommend this to you. Not sure you know, but Snape fucking dies in the book (spoilers, I know), and the author makes sure to give Harry some development too. Bring tissues, because you're gonna cry.

The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

we'll get him falling for a stranger (or a catfish)

sweetlolixo

Summary:

Lan Wangji: Yingying? Lan Wangji: Are you busy with class? Lan Wangji: Won’t disturb you if that’s the case. Lan Wangji: (´• ω •`) Wei Ying wants to cry. What jock uses kaomojis? Ever? Or, Wei Ying is hired by a client to catfish Lan Wangji online, as a hot girl, for revenge. Except, Lan Wangji is not the playboy jock he expected...

My thoughts: This is a pure fluffy and hilarious story. If you like it when characters face consequences for their actions, then probably skip this because people do a whole lotta shit and completely get away with it (except Su She, but fuck Su She)

how to fall in love with a catfish: a guide by wei wuxian (disaster rat)

bwyn, Yuisaki

Summary:

A new plan hatches in Wei Wuxian’s head. If this nocturnal, bottom-feeding, slimy, invasive mudcat posing as a beautiful actor thinks he can sway Wei Wuxian with animal pictures and a sob story and an unbelievably stilted way of texting with still no dick pictures in the first five minutes of conversation, he has another thing coming. Wei Wuxian’s got it, alright, he has this in the fucking bag. Wei Wuxian plots to expose a catfish using strategic memes and turtle pictures while wiggling his way out of family dinner. Lan Wangji just wants companions.

My thoughts: Another catfishing story?!?! Except not really because Wei Wuxian has issues. Not gonna lie, I've only read this once, but god damn, did it destroy me. I don't reread it because I don't like it, but because I'm afraid of feeling all those emotions again. You know how I said the last story has no consequences, well this one has all of them. Watch Wei Wuxian as he slowly destroys his life, before finally putting himself back together and allowing himself to accept love. Another story you will need tissues for.

A Corpse Called By Name

jaemyun

Summary:

A continuation of zombie drabble! She loses her brother in a hoard of the undead. She finds a corpse wearing his face in a convenience store. The corpse calls her name.

My thoughts: I hate zombie movies, but I am absolutely fine with zombie fics. The story starts like how all good Wei Wuxian stories start: with him fucking dying. Watch a dead man build a family and slowing piece himself back together (metaphorically, he isn't falling apart due to decay)

Scum Villain Self Saving System

Bros before... well everything I guess

Icannotthinkofapenname

Summary:

Shen Yuan tried not to think of his original family too often, his parents, his brothers, and sister… Nope. Done with that train of thought. He’s Shen Qingqiu now. This was a new life, and he has a new family to look after. Sometimes a family consists of 12 martial sibilings and a whole lot of disciples. Just a buncha fluff of Shen Qingqiu, Shang Qinghua, their martial sibilings and the kids. Shenanigans ensue.

My thoughts: Another purely fluffy fic, though I have to mention something I really like about it. You see, I have a bit of a pet peeve when canon divergence fanfiction basically follow all of the important plot points from the original story. This story does that, but it doesn't do the scenes in full and only really mentions that it happened, and I think it's great. I don't need to read about Sha Hualing's demon invasion for the 50th time, let's move on and get to the things that matter! Like Shang Qinghua in wedding robes. Also there's a lot of platonic cumplane, which I could never get enough of.

Recovery

Moonsheen

Summary:

Luo Binghe returns to Cang Qiong Mountain with a grievously injured Shen Qingqiu. The trouble is, it's the wrong Shen Qingqiu. AKA The original Shen Qingqiu gets a happy ending, whether he likes it or not.

My thoughts: There aren't many fanfictions I have found that depict Shen Jiu in all his cruel glory. People usually sand him down, like, 'oh, he didn't actually give Luo Binghe his cultivation notebook, that was Ming Fan', or, 'he was more neglectful than monstrous'. I don't mind these interpretations of Shen Jiu, but I feel like stories are more rewarding when you try to heal the man at his scummiest. Recovery is a multi part serious that slowly shows Shen Jiu recover (see what I did there??) from what Bingge has done to him, while also finally finding happiness with Yue Qingyuan.

We Are Not Wise

Boomchick, Suzoomie

Summary:

When Shen Qingqiu drew Shen Yuan’s soul sword, it felt like being burned from the inside out. The fire wasn’t cruel, but it was still fire—hot and destructive, searing the softest pieces of him.   When Binghe’s fingers touch the hilt, he is ready for pain. Transmigrated into a version of Proud Immortal Demon Way where cultivators manifest their own souls into spiritual weapons, Shen Yuan finds himself sort of kind of…accidentally blackmailing Shen Qingqiu into taking him on as a disciple before Luo Binghe joins the sect. That should give Shen Yuan plenty of opportunities to make sure nothing goes wrong for his favorite protagonist, right? RIGHT!? A story of twists, turns, hope, despair, and soul swords. Written for the Bingqiu Reverse Minibang 2023, illustrated and conceptualized by the incredible Suzu!

My thoughts: The last fic has Shen Jiu healing arc, this one has his father arc. Another story you need tissues for, and for multiple chapters, my god is it hard to read and cry at the same time. Another really good premise that was knocked out of the park by the authors.

pride is not the word I'm looking for

Tossawary

Summary:

Shang Qinghua goes to take a self-indulgent peek at his baby protagonist son and gets a kick to the shrivelled heart for his troubles. He gave up on changing the story years ago! Yet he finds himself helping his protagonist son's adoptive mother anyway. Just this one change won't matter too much, right? One little change leads to more. Shang Qinghua never meant to care, but he becomes invested in making sure that his new family survives the looming plot. With the changes to the world cascading around him, with his position as a traitor pulling him between his sect and a certain ice demon, and with the protagonist growing up so quickly, how is one displaced author meant to ensure that everything turns out all right? A Pre-Canon to Canon Divergence story.

My thoughts: I'm gonna be honest, this is the only story on here that I have not finished. I struggle with reading fics that are 400k words long (and by struggle I mean I don't finish them), but this is a story I come back to and reread (and attempt to finish), mostly for one arc. There is a part of the story where Shang Qinghua help look for Luo Jiahui's (Luo Binghe's mom) missing sister, and it is without a doubt the best arc I have ever read in fanfiction. If you are like me and don't like long fanfiction, I still recommend reading this story at least up to that arc, you wont regret it. I also have to say this is my favorite interpretation of Luo Binghe's mom.

Servant to a Different King

Tossawary

Summary:

As the head disciple of An Ding Peak, Shang Qinghua threw the plot out the window and abandoned his sect, and now he enjoys a luxurious life as Tianlang-Jun and Su Xiyan's most treasured and trusted advisor, as the happy couple rules over the Demon Realm together with iron fists. He has everything a transmigrator could want. Unfortunately, there's only so long that the Imperial Advisor can continue to avoid another of Tianlang-Jun's favorite underlings: Mobei-Jun, the new Northern King. An attempt on Shang Qinghua's life inside the Underground Palace itself forces him back into the company of the demon who was once destined to kill his character - and who also once promised to kill him if they ever met again.

My thoughts: Another Tossawary story! This time Shang Qinghua saves Luo Binghe's mom (wait didn't that happen in the last one?) and dad (ok, so it's different). A Moshang focus story where Shang Qinghua tries to avoid having an awkward (and possibly deadly) conversation with Mobei-Jun, which becomes an impossible task because he is now his personal guard. I love the cocenpt of having Shang Qinghua work under Tianlang-Jun, and the interactions between those two are always hilarious.

YuGiOh

An Apocalypse Means Nothing Because You Are The World In Which I Live

sitabethel

Summary:

When an old tomb-keeper steals the Millennium Tome in order to raise the dead, the gods are forced to send Atem back to the world of the living to end the crisis; however, Bakura doesn't trust him to save Marik, so the thief finds his own way back. Meanwhile, the goddess Isis makes a deal with a certain dark entity, offering him a soul in exchange for his services.

My thoughts: Ok, it's been many years since I have last read this story, but I still have to add it to my recommendations because of how batshit insane it is. This is a zombie apocalypses story taking place in yugioh, the story where everything is solved by card games. Do you know how they stop the zombie outbreak? CARD GAMES! Like holy shit, this story is crazy, but it's also on brand. I used to be into thiefshipping and other yugioh ships, so if you're like that then I definitely recommend this one.

Annnddd those are my recommendations. Feel free to judge my taste, but I will unapologetically love these stories till the day I die.

[axxio-sriracha]

Marauders as conversations I've had with my three brothers.

~~~♤~~~

*playing mario party*

Sirius: What even is birdo?

Remus: Are you kidding me?

Sirius: No... What it's like a- it's like a duck, right?

James: *laughing and spitting out soda* A duck?

~~~♤~~~

Peter: Can somebody please give me some sugar, I'm going to like pass out.

James: *walking towards him with stretched arms* Okay, c'mere bro, I'll give you some sugar.

Peter: *running away screaming*

Sirius: *watching the chaos* Who even says 'give me some sugar' anymore?

Remus: Fuck if I know man, I just live here.

~~~♤~~~

James: We have a lot of weird conversations in the car

Sirius: I guess, idk they seem normal to me.

James: Pads, you literally just told me you would torture zombies into submission in an apocalypse...

Sirius: ... okay maybe you're right.

James: We should have more serious conversations like... like our taxes or something.

Sirius: If I ever talk to you about my taxes just fucking shoot me.

~~~♤~~~

James: I just built an entire working community complete with a hospital and a grocery store in minecraft.

Sirius: Oh yeah? I just put on knee high socks without rolling them up first.

James: *sighing* fuck you got me there, man.

Remus: *staring at them both in disappointment* I cannot believe I live with you two.

~~~♤~~~

*in the car blasting 'I Want It That Way' by the Backstreet Boys*

James: *singing horribly* YOU ARE... MY FIRE

Sirius: *literally just screeches* THE ONE... DESIREEEE

Peter: *absolute war-cry* BELIEVE... WHEN I SAY-

All three of them: *whales are terrified across the globe* I WANT IT THAAAT WAYYYY

Remus: *curled up in the backseat trying to read* What is my life?

~~~♤~~~

*playing minecraft*

James: YOU FUCKING BLEW UP MY HOUSE YOU DICKBAG!

Sirius: I'M LITERALLY TELLING YOU IT WASN'T ME!!

Peter: *shaking in creeper magnet* What if we all just have some chips guys??

~~~♤~~~

*texting*

Sirius: Can u plz get me diet soda while ur @ the store

Remus: No.

Sirius: Plz, im dying, i rlly need drinks

Remus: Text me properly and maybe I'll consider it.

Sirius: ughhhhh nvm ill ask james

~~~♤~~~

Sirius: That basketball game was so much fun, dude, we got some free stuff!!

Remus: How'd you get those?

Peter: *sighing* He stole them off of a table and ran away.

Sirius: *nodding* We also got taco bell :)

Remus: You know what, remind me not to ask next time.

~~~♤~~~

*Peter and Remus prepping a meal*

Sirius: You ever wonder if fruit can feel things?

James: *not looking up from his phone* They can.

Peter: *Horrified*

Remus: Well, there goes my help for the fruit salad.

~~~♤~~~

Remus: I really just want to go home and drink tea and read my book, not gonna lie.

James: You are such a nerd.

Peter: Says the guy with like 400 Pokémon cards.

James: *gasping* Those are collectors items, leave them out of this.

~~~♤~~~

James: These are my brothers, Peter and Remus.

Sirius: *offended*

James: *quietly* I try not to introduce you if I can help it, it scares people off.

~~~♤~~~

James: *walking through the door* Hey guys, I'm back!

Sirius: *screaming at Peter to turn off the smoke detector*

Peter: *literally trying to put out a fire*

Fire: *is from a microwaved ramen with no water in it*

The entire house: *smoking and smells like radioactive styrofoam*

Remus: *lying face down on the couch low-key sobbing while listening to spotify*

James: *turning back around* You know, one of these days I'll come home to a normal household.

James: Maybe you'll all be dead, but it'll be normal.

~~~♤~~~

[resident-gay-bitch]

Remus

Best places to kiss on their body

Guilty pleasures

What gets them flustered

Ingrained habits/forces of habit

People they’ve hurt or indirectly killed, and how it affected them

Turning points in their life

Oh hello there again :)))

I love the difference in answers between your two asks because I got all dark and broody about sirius and then I’m just like remu 😋

His. Scars. He’s very insecure about them obviously and so when he gets kissed on his scars he automatically falls in love and is absolutely DONE FOR. it makes him cry too, he just feels so loved, for ALL of him.

A cheeky guilty pleasure for him is a big block of chocolate, a good cup of piping hot tea, and a smutty romance book. He’ll curl up in the winter and read that shit so fast and won’t tell a SOUL what he’s reading about… maybe Lily, because Lily would absolutely join him and they’d both giggle about it together. But one that’s not so good, that he feels a little more guilty about, is smoking. Lily and Mary constantly tell him how gross it is and how bad for him it is and how it’s gonna make him sick but he just can’t help it. It calms him. Temporarily.

Remus is SO easy to fluster, he’s just an absolute loser so any attention he gets is well received. Of course the scar kissing makes another appearance here, because obviously he’d get flustered about his scars being dubbed beautiful and kissable. But just any kind of flirting or sexual insinuation. And also, sirius blacks infamous grin. Right from age 11, it always gets him red in the cheeks and giggling, tripping over his own feet and stuttering.

Cigarettes can make another appearance for forces of habit. Another not so good one is doing things he knows he shouldn’t. He’s very good at not listening to people when they tell him no and also ignoring his own conscience. Sometimes he just wants something so bad he’ll go through shitty things to get to it, even if it makes him feel terrible throughout and after.

Given they were in the midst of a war, I think he would have killed a few people. I think he feels moderately bad about it. Because obviously it’s a human life, and also what if they had lovers and families and children, but at the same time they’re death eaters and terrible people. James would get terrible guilt about killing and only do it when absolutely necessary, and it would eat him alive, so when Remus sees James reacting like that he begins to feel awful for not feeling the same way, and that’s what really gets to him. He thinks he’s the awful monster he’s fought so hard not to be. But casually he’ll hurt people sometimes, he might bonk Lily on the head when getting a book from the high shelf, or he might be roughhousing with James and slam a bony elbow into his ribs, or he might be drunk and dancing with Sirius and trip and send them both crashing into a table. No matter what, if it’s a friend or just a regular person that he hurts, he feels awful about it. If they cry he gets so distressed, if they’re bruised he’ll feel like a monster for putting it there, if they need a trip to the hospital wing (even for a tiny bandaid) he’ll help them get there and stress over them until madame pomfy bonks him on the head with her wand and tells him it was an accident and they’re fine. He really struggles with that because of his lycanthropy.

There are obviously a few big turning points, like when he was bit as a kid, when he started at Hogwarts, through the prank, fighting in the war, Halloween of 81 and blah blah blah. They all had very big impacts on him, obviously. But one that I like to think about is Remus second Christmas after starting school. Right before the break, him and all his friends (the marauders and the girls) awkwardly got together and exchanged Christmas cards. Remus was nervous about his own because of his terrible hand writing, and he packed a chocolate frog in each of them because it was all he could really afford. He watched some of his friends give out gifts (like James to everyone, and the girls all to eachother). But it was when Lily and sirius both gave remus neatly wrapped gifts, both of them coincidentally a little stack of books hed been wanting to read, and chocolate, did he feel seen. Like they actually valued him as a person and listened to his wants. Luckily they both bought him different books, but lilys gift also came with a stamp with his name on it so he could mark his books as his own, and sirius’ came with a hand made bookmark he’d painted himself. Them, along with James gift of a new cosy sweater, and Peter’s gift of sweets and some gobstones, did remus feel like he really had a place here with his friends and that there was something to value in his person. And then also when the marauders became anamagi Remus silently cried himself to sleep that night because even when they knew the worst parts of him they still loved him and wanted to make him happy. He was destroyed for the better.

Anywhoooooo, I really like insecure remus who is just so baffled to have found kind people who actually enjoy his company and make him feel like more than enough and more than the wolf.

Thank you again for the ask!!!! Have a wonderful day / night / morning / whatever it is you’re doing!! <33