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ma1dita · 3 months ago

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food for thought

'between certainties and doubts' installment part of the mean!remus agenda, aka a moment from a terrifyingly convoluted teenage situationship between remus lupin and an unidentified Hogwarts student (x fem!reader) wc: 1.6k a/n: you've been a permanent fixture in the lupin household this summer. 4am post as god intended. internal kinda angst with a bit of domesticity but remus ruins it as per usual. unresolved feelings. feel free to send requests and share treacherous situationship experiences we can write for them

—

You’ve come to realize that dinners at the Lupin household were nothing of the traditional sort.

Most of the time, it would be you and Remus fending for yourselves in the kitchen, scraping together something semi-edible with your guidance—the meal being something of a DIY project that may lack in presentation but makes up in taste (mostly). Or you two would stop by a drive-thru on the way back from whatever trouble you got into for the day, a soggy brown paper bag with a hand on each end and a flat soda half drunk by her only son. Remus elected to take the long way home each time—the two of you would muddy her doorstep wearing matching smiles, rumpled clothes, and smelling of the sun.

Remus was always a good help in the kitchen when he put effort in, but Merlin—that boy cannot cook for the life of him, much to his mother’s disappointment. By mid-July, she’d written you a recipe book during downtime at her insurance job in hopes of getting her son to eat more (and having you be a permanent fixture in their lives). So whether she came home to slightly charred chicken and potatoes or a deluxe meal from McDonald’s, Hope Lupin was thrilled to have you in her home and keeping her son company.

He’d never tell his mum this, but Remus loved the days he’d get to eat at your grandma’s house, though—there were always an assortment of sweet treats and hearty stews that he’d lug home in a Tupperware, buckled into the passenger seat that secretly bears your name. He’d think of you the whole drive home, a silly smile on his face, and his heart beating a bit faster than he would like. And his mum would eat it without question—heart and stomach warmed in gratitude, even if Remus would lie to her face every time and say it was his creation.

But tonight, things were more out of the ordinary—his father was home from working at the Ministry, at a reasonable hour at that. And Lyall Lupin found himself out of place at the new arrangement of his own dinner table. Remus occupies his usual seat at the head of the small wooden table, across from his mother, spooning the bolognese onto your bowl first, before his own, as Lyall observes the scene. He’s sitting across from you, taking in the expanse of your face and watching his son’s hand fall underneath the table with such nonchalance, scooting your chair closer to his with no words. You squeeze his forearm in thanks before standing up to grab the pitcher of juice and pouring everyone a cup, a tiny smile on your face.

“Thank you, love. You’re Winona’s girl, aren’t ya? My—a splitting image of your father! Bet she was mad at that,” his father chuckles, eyes falling to the place setting on the table. They don’t take these mats out unless there’s important company. When he looks at his wife, she winks, shrugging her shoulders as if it’s nothing of the sort.

“Oh, terribly so, Mr. Lupin. Didn’t get much luck with my other siblings either,” you grin. Remus raises his eyebrows—there’s more of you in the world, and more he hadn’t asked you about.

Life outside the bubble you’ve created this summer, slowly coming to an end. His dad clears his throat, and Remus sips at his juice while his other hand rests on your thigh, drawing shapes into your skin. Without even trying, you fit right into this odd dynamic, down to the space you’ve carved out for yourself at the dinner table.

“Lyall, hun. I knew you when you were a wee thing, coming to visit the office with your dad and crawling up under the desks!”

You gasp, and without thinking, you squeeze Remus’ hand even as it’s out of sight, “Lyall, Lyall, CROCODILE! You used to charm your shoes to chomp at my fingers when I’d be pestering you too much!” Watching you two giggling now over a memory he doesn’t share, Remus looks at you with both fondness and…discomfort? He’d never known his dad to be so playful, and knew much less of this side of him as a little boy. Work had always kept him away from home, especially after the incident.

“RJ, son—now you know how to keep this one on her toes!” he chuckles, sending his house slippers to chase after your ankles with charmed teeth, slobber flying into the air as you squeal. Remus wraps his arms around your legs, resting them onto his lap as you giggle. While you watch the magic eat away at the bottom of the tablecloth in mild amusement, he looks at his father with a warning glance over the top of your head.

Lyall shrugs, raising an eyebrow at your proximity. It seems that even if he spends the rest of his life advocating for his son, there’s still a lot to learn about him.

—

“Does she know?” his dad mutters later as he washes the dishes. His son dries them—it’s their routine as both Lupin men prove to be useless at cooking, so Hope appoints them to clean while she chats with you over some tea in front of the telly.

“No. Of course not, I’m not stupid.”

The chipped ceramic makes its way over from under the faucet, exchanging hands as Remus rubs at a spot his dad missed with the terry cloth towel. Lyall soaps the pitcher, scrubbing at the sticky residue the juice has left behind as he murmur, “Might be alright, considering her family. Good people to get involved with. You and her make a good pair, son.” The fork that Remus was drying clatters against the bottom of the sink with a rattle.

“Tad, this isn’t that!” “Isn’t what, RJ?” the older man chuckles. In the silence that follows, they listen to you and Hope cackling over a silly commercial that’s come on the screen. Lyall’s the only one that realizes that both him and his son are smiling at the sound, “Think you ought to clear that up with her then.”

Remus’ smile drops as he registers it.

“Why would you say that?” he stammers, and it sounds like an accusation. The truth is that he already knows—it’s the topic he’s been trying to avoid with you all summer.

Putting a label on this makes it real.

But who is he kidding.

Even without one, he knows it is what it is.

Even the end of summer can’t stop reality from crashing in, much less dampen the feeling he gets when you meet him in the doorway and he slings his jacket over your shoulders.

There is no undoing the lines that have been blurred, and no erasing the weight of what your time together has developed into, heavy, like his hand in yours as he walks you home an hour later.

Still lost in thought, he swings your arms between you as you make your way down the hill together.

“You’ve got that look on your face,” you hum, thumb rubbing against the scars that run across his knuckles.

“S’just my face, lovely,” he nuzzles against your temple, placing a kiss so quick you could imagine it as a brush of the evening wind.

“No, no… I look at your face too much to dumb it down to that.”

“Like what you see?” he teases, and you tug him closer with a jerk of the hand.

“I do,” you giggle, bringing your intertwined fingers up to your lips, “Now that I’ve fed your ego, tell me what you’re thinking of.”

Wind swirls against the leaves of the trees tonight, making a symphony only the two of you will be able to memorize.

You know what’s coming. Term starts next week, and the two of you are heading into Diagon Alley together on Thursday before you head back home. This feels like the talk. You let him compose his thoughts, and finally, he speaks when you both reach your grandma’s driveway.

“My parents really like you. They might like you as much as I do,” he says breathily, wrapping his arms around your hips, “Whatever shall we do with that?”

A smirk pulls at your lips, and he resists the urge to kiss it.

“Godric forbid someone like me more than you do, Remus Lupin.”

He shakes his head, looking up at the sky for patience, before pressing his nose against yours—his eyelashes flutter rapidly, and you curse whoever made it so that boys get pretty eyelashes, because you can’t dare look away from his blown-out pupils.

You like this game, wondering who will kiss whom first. This time, as he looks at you like he could love you outside of the boundaries of this dreary town in Wales, you give in first, pulling him in by the collar of his faded t-shirt and smiling against his lips. Remus licks up your affection, making it known how he feels through the exchange of short breaths and softness beyond recognition. Even now, he’s still not used to it—the taste of your chapstick and of a certainty he only feels when his lips are on yours, that this could work.

His hands travel up along your spine as you moan against him, catching a breath and falling against his mouth once more like the ebb and flow of ocean tides. It ends with a smile, and you keep your eyes closed for a moment longer to savor it.

And then he speaks.

“I just wish I could keep you to myself. Wish we could stay here forever instead.”

You open your eyes and Remus still looks breathless, less sure now than he was when he was making out with you moments ago.

“Well lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, almost contemplative, and maybe even a bit worried as he teeters on his heels, cradling your face in his hands, “Lucky me.”

—

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hauntedwitch04 · 1 year ago

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Fallen angel

Priest!Remus Lupin x reader

Words: about 1.8k words

Warnings: smut, corruption kink, swearing, kinda voyeurism, not proofreaded

Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, hope you like it, your witch Becky

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 14: Innocence

Remus knows it is wrong, but sinning has never been sweeter.

You came for Mass as you did every Sunday, together with your family. Remus always took a few minutes to look at you as you sat in the front row, in your usual cream and powder-pink dress, your little white shoes and the pink headband in your hair. If he hadn't known better, the young priest would certainly have thought you were an angel.

Throughout the mass he tried never to look at you, knowing that he would then have to hide a very obvious erection that would be very difficult to explain.

You are his forbidden dream and his most terrible perversion.You, with your air so graceful and your soul so good, were the one who would make even a saint sin, and Remus is convinced of this. There is no mortal soul according to him who would not think of your lips, your breasts, your legs in a sinful way.

Once the sacred service was over and the faithful were greeted, Remus headed for the confessional, knowing that a couple of people would be coming in seeking absolution. Usually he was not the one to hear confessions, but Father James, who, however, due to commitments could not do so today, so he had asked Remus to do so. At that thought he could not help but smile, thinking how he could ever grant absolution, when at night she often dreamed of you, as he fucked you, as you lay naked on top of the church altar.

Remus has been sitting in the confessional for a while, listening to people's sins and assuring them that God would forgive them if they showed a willingness to absolve themselves, when he decides to leave since there are other things to do and it has been several minutes since anyone came in after the last one who had come in, a man who had cheated on his wife with his sister.

The moment he is about to leave that cramped space, however, he hears your voice caressing the air.

"Father James, I should confess." You say in a voice slightly louder than a whisper.

Remus knows it is wrong the shiver that runs down his spine as he feels the sensation of desire growing inside him. He sits back as he wonders whether to tell the truth or to lie and pretend to be his friend, knowing that this would only be the beginning of the series of sins he would be thinking and doing, moments from now, imagining you kneeling beside him.

"Go ahead my child." Whispers the young priest as he imitates his colleague's voice.

"Father, I have sinned. The devil has taken me by the hand and led me down an evil road." You comment as you wring your hands.

"What have you ever done that is so terrible? You are an angel on earth, you cannot disappoint the Lord." Remus comments, as he feels his pants getting tighter and tighter, in imagining your lips inches away from his lap, separated only by a thin perforated wooden panel.

"I've been thinking about so many wrong things." You pause for a moment and then ask a question. "Father, if I tell you, you will never tell anyone right?"

"Of course angel, no one but me, you and Our Lord will ever know what you are going to tell me." Remus says, trying to reassure you; you nod and go on.

"Father, the other night I had a dream-a sex dream. I was-I was with this boy and he was touching my whole body, then his hands stopped...right there." You say, and Remus immediately closes his eyes, throwing his head back, praying himself not to come at that same moment in his pants.

"It was probably all because of that movie my friend showed me where there's a sex scene, since I've never been intimately with any man, but here's that's not the worst part."

"Oh no?" Remus asks, instinctively, as he feels his self-control slipping through his fingers as he puts his hand on the button that fastens his pants.

"No, because then when I woke up...here I didn't really know what I was doing, but I felt that I was very wet in my underwear and I didn't understand why."

"God child, what have you done?" Remus comments under his breath, not thinking you could hear him as he pulls his cock out of his pants and begins to massage it, since by now the erection was becoming too painful.

"Yes father, I know I sinned a lot, I know because then I did something I'm very ashamed of. I touched myself down there, and-and I think I gave myself pleasure." You confess, your voice almost on the verge of tears. Remus tightens his hand around your cock as he takes a deep breath and stops his movements, knowing that if he continued he would come in seconds.

"What exactly did you do my dear? How did you touch yourself?" Remus asks in a rough voice as he hears you fidgeting on the other side of the grate.

"But Father, I would sin one more time if I repeated it out loud." You comment frightened, as you feel your white panties getting wet again, under the pink skirt you wear.

"No my child. God, and I, need to know what exactly you have done, to absolve your sins, of course." You try to explain Remus convincingly. A few seconds of stalemate pass before you respond.

"You are right Father, I am so foolish. I'll tell you what I did then." You say, in a tone of conviction, before being interrupted again by the young priest.

"I think though if you just told it you might forget some things, and we definitely don't want something like that to happen right?"

"No Father, absolutely not. What do you recommend I do then?" You ask eager to please the priest.

"Why don't you try to do again what you did that night, too. Try touching yourself the same way you gave yourself pleasure as you tell me about it, try thinking about who you were thinking about that night as you came on your fingers." Remus says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as hesitantly a hand immediately goes to the hem of your skirt. You spend a few seconds assessing the situation and then decide to do as Father advises, so you bring your right hand inside your white panties, and with one finger you brush your pussy, feeling how wet it is. This slight gesture of yours makes you moan, and Remus can't help but imagine you under him as you make all those lovely sounds.

"That's right, keep touching yourself while you tell me how you sinned bimbo." Remus says, taking his erection back in his right hand as some pre-cum slides from the tip to the base. The sensitive tip of his cock feels the drafts of air coming in through the small door in front of him, and he can't help but think those are the correspondence of your labored breathing.

"I put my hand in my panties, and with my middle finger I began to caress my..."

"Say it my child, don't be ashamed, it's more than natural."

"About my pussy. Slowly I started to move my finger around, to see if it really feels as much pleasure as it said in the movie, and that's how I found out that it does, but it takes time. Then after a few minutes of touching her, I tried to stick a finger inside."

"Did you like it?"

"Not so much at first, then after a few times I was going back and forth, like he did in the movie, I started to like him a lot, however I couldn't get to the pleasure." You continue, while touching yourself in the same way you are telling it, however the pleasure this time comes much faster than the first time, as you already feel on the verge of orgasm.

"And how did you get to orgasm baby?" Remus asks, as he knows he too is getting closer and closer to reaching the pinnacle of pleasure.

"I imagined it was someone else doing those things on me." You confess shyly between moans. Your hand is completely wet, and your fingers are also cramping, but you don't care.

"And who were you thinking of?"

"To Father Remus. "You whisper in a low voice as a wave of embarrassment washes over you. "Father James please absolve me, please remove this stain from my soul, I cannot live knowing I will end up in the clutches of Mephistopheles." You pray as your fingers quicken.

"Cum. And I will absolve you my child, come now my little fallen angel." Remus says, before coming himself with powerful spurts, in his own hand, as he imagines you convulsing after your orgasm, your plump lips wide open as you moan and your sinful chest poking out of your dress.

At the same time you come around your fingers, moaning and rolling your eyes in pleasure as you feel every muscle in your body contract and relax without you having control over anything.

"Father am I absolved?" You ask with bated breath, as you adjust your skirt, and try to make yourself presentable again. Remus struggles to catch his breath too, especially as he thinks back to the final confession you made: you think of him when you have to give yourself pleasure.

Part of him would like to console you by saying that he is not just thinking about the other person to get to orgasm, but knowing that this is not the case, he decides to adopt another technique.

"Of course my dear, no sin stains your candid soul anymore, just a piece of advice. Just the next one I advise you to go and report these kinds of sins and problems directly to Father Remus, he is a very open-minded man who specializes in the kind of problem you have child."

"What is my problem, Father?" You ask fearfully.

"I think it's really a sex demon, angel." At Remus's words you wince, but he immediately heartens you. "Don't worry baby, he's very good and will know how to help you, but it's important that you don't tell anyone about your condition, okay?"

"Of course Father James, thank you for the advice, I will go right away and talk to Father Remus tomorrow."

"Good, very good my sweet fallen angel." He says, before saying goodbye and hearing you leave.

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#marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #remus x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin au #remus lupin x fem!reader #marauders imagine #marauders smut #marauder x reader #kinktober 2023 #becky's writing

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deswhomst · 3 months ago

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who r ur top ten marauders characters (niche, marauders and skittles) and who r ur fav fancast/vibes for them/moodboard type things

anon this is So hard but seems like it could be fun. my number one spot will be fixed but the rest vary according to my mood. these are my top ten rn but honestly i love them all. even with this ranking, it’s not as if there’s a major gap between my love for number 1 and number 10.

i also don’t have set fancasts for them or if i do they’re the popular ones so it’s not worth mentioning.

1. regulus black. always and forever my number One boy. been a fan for the past eight years and i probably will never stop. his vibes to me are loving/cheerful baby turned bitter hateful teenager. shades of grey with some dark green in there. my chemical romance is his fav.

2. andromeda black. she’s so interesting to me. she has done it All. black family member -> disowned -> married happily and had a kid -> lost husband -> lost kid -> made it out of both wars (at what cost?). her aesthetic is GREEN. very green. she’s scary and welcoming both.

3. james potter. he means so much to me actually. he’s privileged and doesn’t necessarily recognize it and thinks he’s very Good but is also flawed like everyone else. the difference was that he worked on it and i admire that a lot. he’s red and gold, reasons are obvious but they just Fit. hero and villain aesthetic grouped into one.

4. remus lupin. he’s literally tragedy incarnate?? not a moment of peace in his life. he’s very … just human at times, if that makes sense. and for all his faults, he’s kind and helpful instead of being an asshole. i love him. tortured poet kinda vibes. diff shades of brown aesthetic.

5. lily evans. so much to explore here it’s insane. this seemingly ordinary little girl who went on to learn that she’s a witch and discover this whole other world that she saved but got pain and death at 21 in return. her story fucks me Up i love her so much. her aesthetic is also green (emerald green precisely). also!! this one quote needs to be there in any lily evans moodboard -> “you save everyone but who saves you?”

6. sirius black. ah why is he at six 😭 i love him so much he needs to be higher but ranking them is harddd. sirius is legit one of the most complex characters on the list, if not the most. i’ll be honest when i was younger i might have held some things he said against him but i genuinely adore his unhinged side now!! it honestly makes him much more interesting than he already is (which is a lot). he was cruel when he wanted to be but he was also insanely empathetic!! i think people usually forget those details but sirius was not just this mean rebel guy, he was also able to sympathize with others and be good to them. i also mourn the loss of what could’ve been the BEST duo (harry and sirius). as for his vibes, black!! to me it symbolizes that wherever he goes he cannot escape the curse of his family.

7. dorcas meadowes. i won’t even lie i put dorcas on a pedestal. i mean, yes, it’s imp for characters to have flaws and all that but not her !!! she’s perfect. her wrongs are right and if they’re not, then right is wrong. she got one line in canon and made sure it was the most badass one?? voldemort had to personally kill her?? and she was one of few?? slytherin dorcas adds a whole new layer to her too!! it just would never hit the same with any other house. royal purple aesthetic.

8. narcissa black. it should be clear by now that i am a black family dick rider actually. okay but see all the rest of them are losers to some degree but not narcissa. she’s a bitch and a winner and i LOVE her for it. i love nobleflower too but i am a firm believer that narcissa was not forced to do anything. she made the choices that served her well because that’s who she is and she always won in the end. you can hate her for it but she won’t care because she’s too busy being fucking amazing. WHITE aesthetic (flower amongst stars and white amongst blacks (pls this sounds so bad but you get what i mean)).

9. pandora lovegood. we all know she would be a mad scientist if she was a muggle and as an (almost) engineer, i just know we would geek tf out over equations and shit (chemistry was literally my fav subject and i was Sad when i couldn’t find a career path that i wanted to pursue with it lol). her aesthetic is blue, white, and pink.

10. barty crouch jr. don’t condone what he did but his character is legit so cool (not from a moral standpoint ofc). when i read GoF i was genuinely so surprised at his reveal and reading back, the way he acted while impersonating moody was so fun to witness. turning draco into an actual ferret?? mentoring harry while plotting his doom? murdering his father and looking to voldemort for approval instead 😭 barty is blue!! very blue. his music aesthetic is that one band I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME.

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fourmoony · 2 years ago

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I cannot stop thinking about infatuated Remus x reader in the library 🙏 I’m dying for a part two of their date - maybe where Remus shows reader the constellations and there’s lots of sweet fluff and vulnerability and flustered Remus <3

i can't stop thinking about them either! maybe i could make a lil mini-series out of them???? maybe. thanks for requesting, lovely! hope you enjoy!

1.6k remus x fem!reader fluff language probably completely wrong astrology information

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"Are you cold?"

You're sitting across from Remus on a blanket he stole from Lily. He's not sorry about stealing it, but he is sorry that he didn't think to steal another to wrap around you. It's the middle of December and even though you're bundled up in one of the university's merch jumpers and a puffy jacket, Remus is worried this date is his worst idea - like, ever - and that you're going to freeze to death. But despite the cold, thin air, you're smiling happily over at Remus, gloved hands wrapped around a cheap hot chocolate from the canteen and your cheeks rounded out in a smile.

You look so gorgeous, Remus thinks. Your nose has gone slightly red from the cold, and your cheeks have followed suit, but your eyes are glistening with the glow of the festive fairy lights hanging from the lampposts in the distance that line the walk ways of the university grounds. He'd really like to kiss you, he thinks. He has done. Twice, since that day in the library. It'd made his knees buckle both times. Once, leaving the pub a little tipsy and dazed, high off of the flirtatious talking and touching all night, pressed up against the wall with the smell of smoke in the air, and once more when he'd dropped you off at your flat door. That one had been sweet, much softer than the one outside of the pub. A simple goodnight followed by bashful smiles and a heartfelt promise to see each other again soon.

He doesn't kiss you, but he does rub a doting hand up and down your leg, attempting to bring some warmth to it under your thin leggings, even when you protest and promise him devotedly that you're okay. How could you not be? You're there with him, after all. Remus concedes under your assurances, moving so he's directly next to you. Thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. He can smell the sweetness of your perfume, the strawberry of your shampoo, and he's so beyond grateful you've given him an opportunity to be so close to you, again.

"So, are you gonna tell me why we're out here?" You ask Remus, head turned and tilted to look up at him.

You're giving him that smile. The one that makes his chest hurt and his blood thrum in his veins. The one that he likes to believe means you're happy to be spending time with him, that you're enjoying yourself, that you'd be happy to be out here counting the blades of iced over grass just because he's there. You'd never admit it if he asked, but you know in yourself it's true. You'd sit here all night freezing your arse off with shitty canteen hot chocolate just to spend time with Remus Lupin. It's sick, honestly. Marlene would laugh at you something awful.

Remus hums, eyes flitting to your lips distractedly before he remembers himself, "The stars."

It's a poor explanation, Remus knows, but he hopes you remember your tipsy giggles, the way you'd gushed about how pretty the stars were this deep into the countryside, and how you'd love to know everything you possibly could about every last one. Well. Remus isn't good at a lot. He's constantly forgetting to remove his reds from his washing and dying all of his clothes pink, he can't cook to save his life, he can't sing, or wax poetic, but he can sure as hell lie on the freezing cold ground in the middle of December and tell you about the constellations. For goodness sakes, it's part of his degree.

The excited smile that comes over your face does absolutely nothing good for Remus' heart rate nor his sanity. He thinks you're going to drive him mad. James says it's not possible. He did, eventually, ask if your beauty could be a leading factor in Remus' inevitable death via heart attack and James confidently told him that it's simply not possible. Remus disagrees. What does he know, anyway? He's not even fully qualified, yet. Idiot.

"Ooooh," You shimmy impossibly closer to Remus excitedly, eyes alight with joy, and pull him to lay down with you.

He complies, your bodies pressed together and emulating a warmth that shouldn't be possible for the minus two degree weather. It startles Remus how right this all feels. You're here, with him. Pressed comfortably to his side, your left hand threaded through his right, puffs of cold air coming from your mouths and fading away into the night air. He'd not sure what he ever did to deserve such an opportunity, but he'll be damned if he's not going to make the most of it. Of his time with you.

"Okay, so, this one." You point to a cluster of stars directly above you both with the hand that's not interlocked with his.

Remus does his best to follow, mapping with his eyes the collection of stars you've pointed to. "That's Orion. Most visible in the UK during the winter, supposed to be January til' April, but it's a really clear night, I s'pose."

You hum to show you're listening, lips parted ever so slightly, and Remus extends his own hand, "If you follow southeast from here," he wiggles his finger and you press the index finger of yours to his, following his line with a giggle, "it leads to Sirius."

"Brightest star in the sky." You whisper, voice in awe of the bright, twinkling star just right of you both.

Remus scoffs. Hell if he'd ever forget it, he's heard his best friend proclaim it enough times. You seem to come to this realisation, too, laughing and pushing the side of your face into Remus' shoulder. He rests his head atop yours, allowing you to take the warmth and hiding place from him, continues on in his mini-astronomy lesson with a finger pointed at a new collection of stars.

"Ursa Major is over here," His voice is a quiet murmur, careful and sticky sweet, "It's like, one of the most famous in the Northern Hemisphere. It's known as 'The Great Bear'."

He looks down to find you staring at the cluster of stars with a smile he can't read. He thinks it's you realising how big the universe is, how small you and Remus are, in comparison. Remus would disagree. He thinks wherever this thing with you goes, his feelings are going to carry on throughout the entirety of the universe. He's sure of that much. And listen, he's studied an astounding amount about the universe, it's gravitational pulls, the sheer size of it, the possibility that there are more out there. He's spent hours upon hours writing thesis papers, studying the actual cold hard facts, the universe is massive. That's a simple statement in and of itself.

But Remus knows. He knows for damn well sure that he's going to fall head over heels in love with you, and he's going to make sure that love fills every single bit of the universe there is to cover. He's not an idiot, though. He's not going to tell you that on the first - official, anyway - date. He thinks maybe you're having a similar thought process, though. At least, he'd like to think.

"Do you ever think about how tiny we actually are?" Your voice is soft, awe stricken, almost, and he doesn't have to look down at you to know your kind eyes are still roaming the night sky.

He makes an amused sort of hum, lips tilting into a cocky smirk and you meet his gaze, a questioning look lingering there. "Well, no. 'Cause I'm a whopping six foot and you're five foot nothing, love."

Your eyes light up when you scoff, using your free hand to whack at his chest and Remus laughs. It's loud and it's obnoxious but you're laughing too. His eyes find yours again, soft and careful, hoping you can read just how genuine he's being when he tells you, "All the time. In the grand scheme of things, we are specks of nothingness. At least, I used to think that."

Your brows furrow, Remus reaches up to pad his thumb over the crease lines before you can even talk, "Why don't you anymore?"

Remus shrugs. Is it too sappy to admit you've singlehandedly changed his opinion on such a subject in the three weeks he's properly known you? Is that coming on too strong?

You're looking up at him, soft lips parted, waiting on an answer and Remus decides fuck it, he's not going to ever refrain from telling you how much power you have over him. "You."

"Me?"

Remus nods, the ghost of an overly fond smile on his lips as he reaches up to push a fallen strand of hair away from your face, "Yeah. How could a girl like you be anything like an insignificant speck of nothingness?"

You both preen at and shy away from his praise, his flirtatious comment, and Remus feels his heart thrashing against his ribs at the way you whine his name. He chuckles softly as crimson takes over your neck and cheeks, an obvious change from the wind bitten skin from before. He smiles cheekily, chasing the line of your sight, head dipping to meet it.

"I'm serious, you know." He tells you.

You look transfixed for a moment. Ethereal. Entirely too beautiful and enamoured with his words. He's about to kiss you when your own cheeky grin comes over your face, eyes bright as you turn to point at the sky, "No, silly," You chide jokingly, "That's Sirius."

And oh, for fucks sake, Remus is well and truly done for.

#marauders #fourmoonysasks #remus lupin #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin x reader #james potter #sirius black #lily evans #love #fluff #regulus black

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irrevocablecondition · 3 months ago

Text

first line(s) of my fics :3

ty @courfee and @shoopsthereitis for the tags <33

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don't be shy and share anyway!

(except i rarely post so you get a lot of drafts and i'm putting them under the cut :3)

np tags (i apologise if you've already done this): @calamitoustide @otrtbs @inevitablestars @weasleytriplets @poetskings @del-stars @languagelessonswolfstar @r33sespieces @kaaaaaaarf

one single thread of gold: obliviated remus, lie low at lupins fic <3 (67k so far)

Remus hasn’t felt stable in weeks. Maybe even months if he’s being honest with himself.

It’s not an unusual feeling, but it's definitely an unwelcome one.

His bones are constantly tired, straining against his skin as though they’ll never fit into place again. His vision always feels foggy, like he’s watching his life play out in front of him without any kind of autonomy or clarity. His skin is constantly itchy, like it’s fighting to stay layered together and not expose the raw nerves underneath. It feels as though they’re exposed anyway.

the death of my dog (the stretch of my skin): canon compliant regulus oneshot (7.4k)

Regulus has always prided himself on his tremendous memory - if you were to ask him, it’s one of his best qualities.

down at the sandlot (draft) - canon compliant platonic snily exploration

If you were to ask anybody who Lily Evans is, they would say that she’s a girl who loves books.

Whether that be her mother, her father, or the friends that she makes throughout her life, it will all come down to one thing - books. Piles and piles of books, forever encased in some kind of story or research, sometimes just holding one to feel the weight of it in her hand.

How To Never Stop Being Sad (draft) - addict!sirius and second chance wolfstar

The very first thing they tell you when you’re supporting someone through addiction is the three C’s.

Cause. Cure. Control.

maybe time running out is a gift (draft) - terminally ill remus and his bucket list

Just because something is familiar, doesn’t mean that one has become resistant to it.

back to the old house (draft) - cannot explain if i wanted to. but very funky.

The funeral is a complete blur, it exists as just flashes in Sirius’ mind.

He knows that he went, that he didn’t receive an invitation but he found himself outside of the church anyway. He thinks that Remus had something to do with it, but he can’t exactly ask. Not now, not with how they are.

killing time at the cemetery (draft) - poa snupin

One of the biggest misconceptions about war is that it can be over - that once the cause has been achieved, the fighting is done.

unnamed but volcanologist sirius fic!

Ash never settles, not really.

There’s a point where you take off the mask, where you can risk going into a scene without multiple layers of protective equipment. Where you can turn over rocks, dig your way through rubble and start your mission. The research, the numbers, the articles - all of them an attempt to answer every question that comes your way.

Ultimately, 'why?'

#tag games #mwahhhh

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lowlylux · 4 months ago

Text

Silver Spoons (And Butterknives)

Chapter Two | Fear of Family

Rating: Mature

Warnings: mention of blood, violence, and self harm

Word Count: 6.8k

Ship: Jegulily/Wolfstar

Description:

For a moment he wishes Sirius was there.

He closes his eyes, allowing him to accept it even as his lungs scream for him to continue fighting. He hurts…so much. It is overtaking him, drowning out the voices that continue to berate his mind. But he still cannot bring himself to fight back. His mind goes fuzzy, his consciousness beginning to lessen its hold on his body.

Yet, for a moment, he swears the pressure of the water leaves him. He swears that he is gasping for air and actually obtaining it. And, the thing that makes him fully realize that this is his mind’s last attempt to give him peace, is the mirage of his brother staring down at him, eyes widened in shock.

And just like that, Regulus finally loses consciousness.

Or…

A simple loophole ensures the survival of Regulus Black, and he is about to make it everyone’s problem.

Ao3 link

Sirius Black would love to say that the moment he saw his brother, he called for an Auror. He would love to say that he looked down at his brother’s collapsed, drenched form with nothing but hatred. But, that would simply be a lie.

He was frozen at first, not knowing if the state of his brother was simply a mirage that was taunting him. But no, Regulus was here…looking awful. The boy is barely even breathing, his small frame moving ever so slightly every few seconds. And the blood…it makes Sirius almost nauseous. Crimson liquid is pooling around the boy, accentuating the various gashes that overtake his body. The water mixes with blood, the liquid hanging onto Regulus’ form as if he were just pulled out of a lake.

“Sirius, who just…” Remus Lupin walks in only to pause, eyes tracing over the body of the younger Black brother. “What’s your brother doing on the floor?”

“I…”

Remus rushes towards the boy, not wanting to wait for his boyfriend to find his words. Sirius observes how careful Remus is, even if the person on the receiving end has treated him horribly in the past. The man is muttering under his breath, his wand softly glowing as it is pressed into the skin of the pale boy. “Sirius?”

Sirius still finds himself rather lost for words, lost for everything really. He cannot help but stare at his brother, thousands of questions circulating in his mind simultaneously. He does not even know why he is behaving like this, suddenly being reminded how many times he has told everyone around him that his brother barely existed to him. That his brother simply did not matter anymore.

But here he is, on his floor, in a far sorrier state than he has ever seen.

“Sirius, you need to call for Lily.”

“What?”

“Lily…Sirius, you need to get her here,” Remus says, still attempting to walk Sirius through the whole ordeal. The man, to his credit, is even attempting to help Regulus to not much avail. Remus has never been good at healing charms, not really anyway. He has been able to get by but these injuries require far more expertise than he actually possesses.

It is like something scratched the poor boy, deep gashes running along his leg and other extremities. Sirius shudders to think of what could have done this. What beast dared to attack his little brother? What kind of creature could do this to Regulus without the younger Black immediately retaliating? What could have harmed him so much that his first instinct was not to return to his home, but go to Sirius instead?

He still has far too many questions, many of which he is sure that when Regulus does awaken, he will still not have answers to.

He finds himself walking towards the fireplace in an almost robotic fashion. This does not feel real, he cannot shake that feeling regardless of the urgency. His hand barely even grasps the floo powder, much of it falling the moment he lifts his hand. It is like the words do not even escape his mouth, murmurs echoing in his ears.

And suddenly he is greeted with nothing but warmth. His flat is warm, but it is like it radiates from James and Lily. Everything they touch glows with ever-lasting smiles and laughter. It is like a dream that one never wishes to wake up from, an embrace one never wishes to leave.

And it is like they produce such warmth without even noticing. To them, it is as natural as breathing. To others, it is simply an addiction. He supposes James gets it from his parents, he has to. Euphemia and Fleamont Potter should be proud of their son. And Lily…well she had no choice but to accept the warmth as it was given to her.

It’s a nice contrast, Sirius is sure of it. He can emulate the light that James Potter and Lily Evans produce, but he can never match it. So he will merely absorb it, greedily holding onto it as if one day it will just vanish. Sirius is certain that if it were to leave him without warning he would simply cease to exist entirely.

Maybe that is what he is trying to do when he shuffles into their flat, looking around desperately for his best friend. He wants someone to hold him, to tell him that everything will be alright. And Remus is great for that, no, he is fantastic. But Remus is busy attempting to save the one bringing this feeling of overwhelm.

“Sirius?”

“James…” Sirius mumbles out, stumbling until he collapses onto his best friend, grasping onto that light as if it were fleeting. Perhaps it is, perhaps when Sirius lifts his head and addresses James it will all disappear. They are in the middle of a war after all. He should not have expected everything to stay the same.

“Padfoot, what’s wrong?” James asks softly, running a hand through Sirius’ hair in a manner that he knows will calm the man down. “Sirius?”

“Reg is back.” Sirius feels the moment shift. What was once a desperate plea for the world to stop spinning now is overtaken by just that feeling. James is still, staring at Sirius as if he were a spirit. “Remus says Lily should…”

“He’s hurt?” James asks suddenly, bringing Sirius to a moment of pause. But Sirius does not respond, because how could he? How could he find the words to explain to his brother that he had not heard from him in almost two years? “Sirius, I need you to answer me. What is going on?”

“We need to get Lily.”

“Fuck — Lily!” James shouts out in a tone Sirius barely recognizes. James does not lose his head. He has always been the grounding force, a tad more chaotic than Remus, but grounding. Yet here he is, shouting for Lily.

Lily rushes in, red hair partly disheveled. Sirius does not know why, but the first thing he notices is that she is missing a sock. She is staring at James intently, eyes flitting towards Sirius only a few times. “What’s happened?”

“Regulus turned up.”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s hurt…” Sirius mutters, taking note of how James’ hands are shaking. “Lily, please. I need my brother.”

“Okay,” Lily says with a quick breath, rushing toward a nearby table. Sirius watches as the woman rummages through the drawers, pulling out vial after vial, liquids sloshing against the glass. She is frantic, nearly dropping a few of them as she gathers them into a bag. The woman slings it over her shoulder, nodding to herself. “Okay.”

Sirius does not understand what is happening. He feels James tugging him, a strong hand pulling him toward the fireplace in a rush. He feels the heat of the fire, traveling back to his flat in a panic. He knows that they are moving, yet his understanding of it all vanishes. But Regulus is still there, looking far worse than when he left him.

Lily rushes over, pushing Remus away so that she can get a good look at the boy. “What did he even fight?” she questions, observing the wounds Regulus currently has scattered across his torn-up body. Lily raises a vial, allowing the liquid to pool out. Yet it does nothing, the wounds looking as angry as they were a few moments ago. “Fuck…Remus, can you grab me my knife?”

“What?” Sirius asks, finally finding his voice, disregarding how it sounds more akin to a toad.

Lily sends him a look of pity, grasping the knife Remus graciously grabbed for her. “It’s like the skin has already grown necrotic. Whatever he just dealt with, it was dark magic.” Her gaze shifts away from Sirius, going back to the younger Black. She is meticulous, lining up the knife so that it will only cut what it needs to, the unaffected areas allowed to remain unblemished.

But the blade meets skin, and suddenly Regulus is awake. The young boy thrashes, the voice of someone Sirius has not heard in far too long echoing out. He cries out, eyes widened as he desperately attempts to escape.

“Hold him down!”

Sirius finds himself wanting to step forward, wishing to himself that he could make the screaming stop. But James grabs him, holding Sirius in place just to counteract that need. Yet it remains that Sirius is just helpless in the situation. It is a rather strange feeling, to be utterly familiar with the cries of his brother. Regulus was always the one who tried to stay away from the limelight, yet he sparkled and drew attention to himself no matter the situation. It was just unfortunate that one of the people he gained attention from was their mother.

Regulus is still thrashing, blood gushing out from his cuts, a drastic difference compared to his fair skin. He is screaming incomprehensibly, and honestly, Sirius would much rather it than the reality of understanding his brother’s cries. If he could, he would block out every cry, every expression of pain that he is being forced to listen to. But he would also hate himself if he left.

He stares at Sirius with wide eyes, tears welling up as Lily continues to cut away at the injuries. Upon further observation he can see the injuries are indeed black, the skin around them slowly turning purple. It is spreading, and while it kills Sirius to admit it, she is right.

“Just a few more…” Lily murmurs, her voice nearly lost beneath the relentless, gut-wrenching screams ripping from Regulus’ throat. Her hands tremble as the blade presses into his corrupted flesh, every fresh cut eliciting another agonized wail. She flinches, her own body recoiling as if she can feel the pain radiating from him as if each slice of the knife is carving through her as well.

Remus’ hold slips, just for a heartbeat. But in moments like these, a heartbeat is enough.

Sirius barely registers the blur of motion before him, but the gasps of shock from both Remus and Lily snap his attention to the now-empty space where Regulus had been.

Regulus is cowering in the shadows, his body curled in on itself like a wounded animal. His wide, glassy eyes dart between them, his chest heaving as tremors rack his frame. Blood stains his trembling hands where he grips his knees, his breath shuddering through clenched teeth.

“Stop…” he whispers, barely more than a breath.

“Regulus,” Lily says carefully, creeping toward the boy as if he were a caged animal. “We’re almost done, I promise.” And Sirius knows that look, having been on the brunt end of Lily desperately attempting to help as many people as she possibly can. But he doubts even the warmest eyes can break Regulus out of what he is going through. “Regulus please.”

"At least give me something for the pain," Regulus pleads, his voice strained as he curls in on himself, his expression growing harsher with each passing second. Sirius can’t bear it. He cannot stand the sight of his brother like this. He instinctively tests James’ grip, noticing the momentary lapse. And then he’s moving, his body surging forward before his mind can catch up.

Regulus' carefully maintained facade crumbles in an instant, his eyes widening in raw, unguarded shock.

"Sirius?"

And Sirius just pulls his brother into an embrace. His brother…his little brother, immediately falls into the hug. His hands are gripping Sirius as his heavy breathing continues to affect his entire being. It is moments like these that make Sirius starkly aware of just how much smaller his brother is. When they were younger, specifically before Hogwarts, he was always aware of that. How else would Regulus be able to cower behind his brother, hiding whenever their mother determined they were not doing a good enough job in their studies?

But then Sirius went to Hogwarts, and Regulus no longer cowered. He always stood tall, his nose pointed high as he willingly walked away, beyond Sirius’ grasp. However now…now Regulus is the same little boy who would hide behind Sirius.

His hold is the same…

“Reg…” Sirius murmurs, resting his chin on the top of Regulus’ head. He does not know when it happened, but he is running his hands through Regulus’ hair, desperately attempting to give the man some semblance of comfort. “You have to let Lily finish.”

“I can’t…I need a potion or something, please.”

Sirius glances at Lily, taking in her shaking head before his shoulders drop. “Reg…” he murmurs, making Regulus look at him. “I don't think a pain potion is going to help. Not this time.”

“You can't just cut into me without anything!”

“You’re past the hard parts,” Lily says gently, creeping toward Regulus. “After it’s over I have multiple potions that will help, I promise.”

“How am I meant to trust you?”

“I haven't killed you yet,” she replies, her tone even. Sirius notices how her eyes keep glancing toward Regulus’ left arm. And he refuses to truly take a look. At this moment, Regulus needs him, and he knows that what he will find will anger him. Two sides of himself war with each other as one part wants to grasp Regulus’ left arm to reveal the reality that he is certain is true, while the other wants to just be a big brother.

For once, he just wants to be a brother, nothing else.

“If I don’t cut this off, Regulus, you’ll die. Do you understand that?” Lily’s voice is unyielding, her eyes narrowing with a sharpness that cuts through the chaos of the moment. “Do you want to die?” Her words hang in the air, the weight of them settling heavily around them. The silence stretches, a beat of tense anticipation, before Regulus finally sighs, his face pale and strained. He hesitates for a moment before slowly extending his arm, revealing the last of the deep, necrotic wound that Lily must tend to. Lily’s gaze flicks to Sirius, and there’s a flash of pity in her eyes, brief but unmistakable. “Sirius,” she says softly, but with urgency, “you need to hold him.”

“I…”

“You need to hold him down.”

“Lily I can’t-”

“Sirius, the moment I cut him, he’s going to bolt,” Lily warns, her voice sharp with urgency. There’s no room for hesitation, no softness to cushion the truth. And yet, she speaks as though Regulus isn’t even there, as if he’s just a fly on the wall instead of a person who can hear her every word.

“Sirius!” Lily snaps, dragging his attention back to the moment, to the blood, to the weight of what must be done.

“Look, Pads,” James interjects, his tone softer, an anchor amidst the chaos. He meets Lily’s gaze before kneeling beside Sirius, his steady presence grounding them both. “I’ll help you. Two sets of hands are better than one.”

“Absolutely not!” Regulus hisses out, now thrashing in Sirius’ hold. “You aren't touching me…”

“Reg,” James says calmly, his tone going flat as he stares down the boy. Sirius notes how Regulus, albeit reluctantly, does halt his movement. His brother glares at James for a good moment before sighing in defeat. And just like that, the light James brings feels as if it is suffocating Sirius, even if the embers are greatly dimmed due to the situation. James is attempting to smile at Regulus, gently grabbing the boy’s left arm, also refusing to really look at it. “If it starts to hurt too much, just squeeze my hand.”

Regulus scoffs in response, rolling his eyes at James’ suggestion. “Absolutely not.”

But James just hums in reply.

Lily sends an indecipherable silent look to Remus, causing the boy to jump up to rifle through her bag. If Sirius was not preoccupied he may have looked at Remus, gotten a small look to calm his racing heart, yet he knows better than to look now.

Lily grips the knife with a grip so tight that her fist is turning white. “I’m sorry,” she mutters before cutting into him once more. The reaction is immediate, Regulus is howling in pain, desperately pushing away from the blade. Sirius tightens his grip on Regulus’ waist, ensuring he cannot move further. The knowledge that he could be harmed further looms over Sirius, temporarily grounding him.

Regulus’ hand is almost pure white as he grips onto James’ hand as if he wishes the pain could be transferred. But James is taking it like a champ, shouting about how Regulus is doing well.

When it is over, it is like the whole room shifts. Lily takes the last bit of corrupted flesh in her hands, quickly burning it before taking multiple vials from Remus’ hands. She is trembling as she brings them to Regulus, the boy staring at her with narrowed eyes.

“For the pain.”

Regulus doesn’t wait for another explanation. Without a word, he takes the potions, swallowing them in quick, deliberate gulps. His movements are swift, almost mechanical, and Sirius can barely keep up with the pace. One moment, Regulus is holding the vial, and the next, it’s empty, his hand dropping to his side like the weight of the world has settled in. His body goes limp, a sudden slackness overtaking him as his eyelids flutter, gradually sinking shut.

Sirius’ gaze darts to Lily, his mind racing for some kind of understanding. The look she gives him, being steady and quiet, speaks volumes, and in that silent exchange, something clicks. Regulus isn’t dying. He’s just falling into sleep, the potions working their magic, pulling him into a stillness that feels too final, too quiet.

Yet silence fills the room anyway.

. · ˚✧

"Are you kidding me?" Walburga’s voice tore through the tense air, sharp enough to leave invisible wounds in its wake. Sirius flinched before he could stop himself, the reaction instant, ingrained from years of her wrath. Her eyes, wild with fury, burned into him as she stepped closer, practically pinning him against the cold, dark-paneled wall. The sharp scent of her perfume, heavy and suffocating, mixed with the crackling tension between them.

“A boy?” she spat, her lips curling in disgust as if the very word poisoned her tongue.

Sirius straightened his shoulders, forcing himself to meet her glare despite the rapid hammering of his heart. “Why does it matter who I’m dating?” he shot back, his voice tight, a thin veneer of defiance barely covering the raw frustration bubbling beneath.

Walburga’s nostrils flared. “It matters when you disgrace this family!” she shrieked, her voice ricocheting down the long corridor, filling every inch of Grimmauld Place with her fury. She whirled away from him, her heavy robes billowing as she paced, hands clenched so tightly that her knuckles gleamed white. “Where did we go wrong?” she hissed. “Befriending blood traitors? Romancing a half-blood, and a boy at that?” A bitter laugh escaped her lips, sharp and humorless. She shook her head, her teeth bared. “Why are you so determined to ruin us?”

Sirius’ jaw locked. Heat prickled beneath his skin, rage simmering, begging to boil over. “My life does not depend on our status!” he shouted, stepping forward, his hands trembling at his sides. His chest rose and fell with each uneven breath, fury warring with something deeper, something that ached.

Walburga scoffed, rolling her eyes as if his words were nothing more than the foolish ramblings of a child. “It has always depended on our status,” she sneered, her voice dropping into something quiet, venomous.

Sirius swallowed hard, his throat tight. The weight of years, of expectations, of duty, of never being enough, pressed against his ribs. Still, he forced the words out, his voice cracking under their weight. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?” The unspoken for once clung to the air between them, a ghost of longing. “I’m happy…” he muttered, barely above a whisper. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

His mother’s lips curled into something cold, unreadable. “You can be happy,” she said, her tone devoid of warmth, “once you are the proper head of this family. Once you are married to a respectable woman.”

A bitter, humorless laugh tore from Sirius’ throat. He shook his head, taking a slow, deliberate step backward. “Absolutely not,” he spat. His voice was steady, but his pulse pounded against his skull. “I will not stand here and let you control my life.”

Walburga’s expression hardened, her grip tightening on the folds of her dress. For the briefest moment, something flickered in her eyes—not doubt, never doubt, but recognition. An understanding that this, finally, was the breaking point.

“Then leave,” she snapped.

The words hit Sirius like a hex to the chest. He exhaled sharply, the finality of it sinking into his bones. He had known this was coming, of course, he had known. But still, hearing it out loud, from her lips, from his mother…

Something inside him fractured.

“Fine,” he snarled, his voice raw as he spun on his heel. He stormed up the stairs, his boots thudding against the wood, the house itself seeming to shake with the force of his steps. His vision blurred, not with tears, never tears when in that house, but with rage, with something suffocating, something he refused to name. He reached his room, shoved the door open, and slammed it behind him with a force that rattled the hinges.

Time passed in a haze. He barely registered the motions, throwing clothes into a bag. His fingers working on instinct, his brain refusing to acknowledge the reality of what he was doing. His movements were sharp, jerky, driven by something too big to hold inside.

He zipped the bag shut, slinging it over his shoulder.

“You need something warmer.”

The quiet voice startled him. Sirius whipped around, his heart jolting at the sight of Regulus standing in the doorway. His little brother looked smaller than usual, wide eyes locked onto him.

“What?” Sirius breathed, his voice hoarse.

“Something warm,” Regulus repeated, shifting his weight, his hands twisting in the fabric of his own robes. “It’s snowing, Sirius.”

The words slammed into him harder than Walburga’s screaming ever could.

For the first time since the argument began, the weight of it all crashed down on him. This was real. He was leaving.

But Regulus…

Sirius rushed forward, relief flaring through him. His little brother had come to him and had not hidden away like he had feared. “Regulus, we need to go.” His voice came out urgent, desperate, “Come with me.”

Regulus stiffened. His expression faltered for the briefest second before he shook his head, stepping back. “Go?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t… I’m not going with you.”

The floor felt unsteady beneath Sirius’ feet. “What?”

Regulus swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His hands trembled at his sides. “I can’t leave,” he murmured, shaking his head as though he could shake away the very idea. “Mother would…” He stopped himself, eyes flickering downward. “I can’t go.”

“You’re staying here?”

Regulus’ lips parted, but no words came out. The answer was already written across his face.

Sirius felt his stomach drop, the weight of it sickening. He could handle Walburga’s hatred. He could handle being cast out. He could handle leaving. But that fact that Regulus chose to stay?

That cut deeper than anything else.

“You’re ridiculous,” Sirius said, letting out a sharp, bitter laugh as he shook his head. “Should’ve known you’d end up just like them.”

Regulus’ head snapped up. His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped, his voice rising. “I’m not the one stupid enough to tell Mother everything about my life at Hogwarts.” He exhaled sharply, his fingers curling into fists. “You saw how she reacted to you dating Lupin, but what about me?”

Sirius froze. Something cold slithered down his spine. “What about you?”

Regulus hesitated for only a second. Then, with a quiet, clipped voice, he muttered, “I like blokes too…I think.” His eyes darted toward the door as if terrified someone else might hear. “Happy?”

The breath whooshed from Sirius’ lungs. “Reg—”

But Regulus was already pulling away, already retreating. He turned sharply, crossing the room in swift strides. He wrenched the door open, the wood groaning in protest.

“Have a good time living with the Potters, Sirius,” he said, voice hollow. He didn’t turn back. “We both know that’s where you’re going, anyway.”

And with that, he was gone.

Sirius stood frozen in place, his hands limp at his sides, the weight of the moment pressing against his ribs like a vice.

That was the moment he lost his brother.

✧˚ · .

"Sirius…"

A gentle hand presses against his shoulder, a barely-there touch, but even that feels like too much. Sirius grumbles, shrugging it off, burrowing deeper into the pillow. He scrunches his eyes shut, refusing to crack them open, unwilling to acknowledge the world beyond his self-imposed darkness. If he stays like this, still and silent, maybe the universe will take pity on him and simply pause. Just for a moment. Just long enough for him to forget.

The voice comes again, softer this time. "Sirius, love…"

He tenses. His name, wrapped in that warmth, in that tenderness—it nearly undoes him. No. Not yet.

"No," he mumbles, voice thick with exhaustion as he shifts away, retreating from the one thing he never wants to run from. He doesn’t push Remus away, not really—he knows better than to risk hurting him. But he also can’t bring himself to lean in, to open his eyes, to let reality settle its heavy hands on his shoulders. "Remmie, please."

The silence stretches between them, thick and expectant. Then—

"Regulus is awake."

The words cut through the fog instantly. His breath hitches, his stomach twists, and before he can stop himself, his eyes snap open. The dim light makes them sting, but the sight of Remus—hovering just inches away, gaze cautious, voice steady—grounds him in an instant. Sirius swallows hard, fingers twitching as they reach for him, grasping for something solid.

"Did he talk to you?" His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Remus hesitates. That alone is an answer. He averts his gaze, a subtle shift, but Sirius catches it, of course he does.

"No," Remus says, too carefully.

Liar.

Sirius arches a brow, the look on his face sharp, expectant. Remus exhales, shoulders dropping slightly in resignation. His eyes flick back up to meet Sirius', softer this time. "He...wasn’t very nice."

Sirius lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Is he ever?"

Remus sighs. "That’s why I didn’t want to mention it." His voice drops, quiet, careful. "He’s in pain."

Sirius presses his lips together, jaw tight. That, he knows. That, he understands. But it doesn’t stop the bitterness from curling at the edges of his heart.

"Doesn't mean he should be rude to you."

He shifts, lacing his fingers through Remus’, his thumb sweeping over the back of his hand, slow and deliberate. A small gesture, but one that says everything he can’t quite put into words.

"You don’t deserve that."

Remus exhales, his grip tightening just slightly. "I know," he murmurs. "But he’s your brother."

Sirius closes his eyes for half a second. When he opens them again, there’s something unreadable in them.

"Yeah," he breathes. "He is.” Sirius looks away, trying desperately to reign in his stray emotions to the best of his ability. “I need to go in there, don’t I?”

“Preferably, yes.”

Sirius exhales, the sound heavy, weighted with everything he cannot quite say. His forehead finds Remus’, a quiet surrender, a fleeting moment of solace before the inevitable. He lingers there, eyes slipping shut as if he can will away the world beyond this touch, as if he can press pause on the relentless march of time.

He does not want to do this.

He does not want to step into that room, to see Regulus not as the boy he once was but as the man he became—fractured, worn, and burdened by choices Sirius was not there to stop. He would much rather let memory soften the edges, let his mind preserve the image of a wide-eyed child clutching onto him as if nothing has changed.

Because if he walks through that door, if he faces the reality of his brother—of what remains of him—then there will be no room left for illusions, no space for the comfort of what-ifs.

And yet, there is no choice. There never was. He lost that luxury the moment his brother turned up again.

“Sirius…”

Sirius opens his eyes, moving away from Remus so that he can fully take in his expression. He finds his breath catching, the moment before him slipping from fingers before his very eyes. Sirius cannot even speak, he knows what is about to be said. Truthfully, he does not quite know what he can do to postpone this much further.

“You need to talk to him.”

Sirius sighs heavily for the second time tonight, biting his lip as he thinks for a moment. “Does he have it?” He waits for a response, tightly closing his eyes as if the answer will permanently scar him. Because potentially it might, just not in an observable fashion. When no answer comes, he opens them once more. “Remmie, please…I need to know.”

Remus averts his gaze, once again refusing to look his boyfriend in the eye. It hurts Sirius in a small, almost indescribable way. The lack of trust in his reaction to the truth. It is debilitating to know that Regulus is still his weakness, still the thing that causes people to walk on eggshells. But Remus takes a moment, his fist tightening before he answers;

“Yes.”

Sirius feels his world crumble before him, any decent images of his brother shattering. He finds himself unable to breathe, gripping his chest as he feels hot tears welling up in his eyes. He vaguely feels Remus engulfing him in an embrace, but it does little to assist him.

He grips onto Remus’ shirt, bunching up the fabric in his hands as reality continues to rise like a skyscraper. He is but an ant now, forced to take in a world that refuses to wait for him. Sure he can carry far more than he should feasibly be able to, but the simple reality that he is nothing forever shapes him.

Sirius’ breathing slows, his heart rate no longer racing as the small comfort of his boyfriend being there brings far more comfort than Remus will ever know. He forces himself to push away from Remus, taking a deep inhale that only results in hiccups. “I need to go..”

“Sirius you can-”

“No,” Sirius says, shaking his head as he forces himself to his feet. “I need to talk to him. Make sure he's not dead before I kill him.”

“You’re not going to kill your brother.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Sirius mutters, yanking the door of their room open. He storms in, head held high as he glares at Regulus, only to falter immediately.

Regulus lies motionless on the bed, his body wrapped in bandages that bear the faintest stains of crimson. The stark white cloth stands in sharp contrast against his pallid skin, each strip of fabric a quiet testament to the pain endured. If Sirius let himself, he could map them out, trace each injury with his eyes, and align them with the memories that haunt him. He could tell which came first, which had been the worst, which had been the cause of specific screeches. But he doesn’t. Because it doesn’t matter. Because the outcome is the same.

Regulus stares at the ceiling, his expression blank, unreadable. He does not shift, does not flinch, does not even offer Sirius the courtesy of acknowledgment. And somehow, that burns more than if he had spat venom at him, more than if he had turned his head and glared with all the contempt Sirius knows is still buried inside him. Silence should be empty, but this…it is suffocating.

Sirius exhales sharply, barely restraining himself from crossing the room in three quick strides and shaking Regulus by the shoulders, forcing something…anything…out of him.

“Lupin told you?”

Regulus finally moves, just enough to shift his gaze from the ceiling to Sirius. His eyes are dull, rimmed with exhaustion so deep it might never leave him.

“I already knew.” The words barely pass Sirius’ lips before he hears it, that small, imperceptible crack in his voice. He stiffens, as though bracing for the impact of sharp words, yet the hit never comes. He should have been prepared for this, should have steeled himself for the sight that meets him when his gaze flickers downward. And yet, he isn't.

His eyes land on Regulus’ left forearm, and there it is, the mark, dark and unrelenting, branding him in a way no wound ever could. The ink twists across his skin like a parasite, its black tendrils writhing against his pale flesh. It should look angry, inflamed as if it had seared itself into him with unbearable heat. But the skin around it is eerily unscathed, devoid of redness, or irritation. Sirius expects pain, expects proof of suffering. But there is none, only that hollow, suffocating silence.

Still, the mark feels alive. It demands to be seen, to be recognized, to be feared. It does not bleed, nor does it bruise, yet it howls all the same, a quiet, ceaseless scream etched into his brother’s skin.

“I tried cutting it off the second day I had it.”

Sirius' stomach turns violently, but his voice remains steady and sharp. “And Walburga let you?”

Regulus lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “She doesn’t know,” he mutters, his tone brittle, cracking under the weight of something Sirius can’t quite place. “Father did. And he made sure I wouldn’t try again.”

His eyes slip shut for a moment, as though the memory itself is enough to cause pain. And for all that Sirius has hated him, resented him for staying, for choosing the family Sirius ran from, he cannot ignore the way his chest clenches at the sight of Regulus like this. Worn thin, like parchment stretched too far, like something fragile that has already begun to break.

A beat of silence lingers between them before Regulus lets out a breath, forcing his voice back into something steadier, something bordering on nonchalance. “I’m surprised Evans didn’t try to take my arm off.”

Sirius snorts, though there is no real humor in it. “Well, Lily’s a good person.”

Regulus nods faintly. “I know that.”

“Why are you here?”

“I didn't choose it,” Regulus mutters, forcing himself to sit up. He hisses, clutching his stomach. The younger boy raises a hand, glaring at Sirius before he can even comprehend the idea of helping him. “Kreacher found a loophole.”

Sirius finds his brows furrowing, staring at his brother as if he had grown two heads. Perhaps that would be easier to understand. “I don't understand.”

“I told him to leave me there…if it wasn't for me being daft enough to order him to ignore me once I entered that cave I would be…” Regulus trails off, eyes widening as if remembering something. His gaze snaps to Sirius, stormy eyes swirling with emotions Sirius cannot pick up on. “Where’s the locket?”

“Excuse me?”

“The locket!” Regulus says rather loudly, forcing himself up. He collapses on the ground, screaming out in pain as his joints audibly crack at the impact. Sirius finds himself rushing to him, eager to help him. “Don’t touch me!”

Sirius straightens his back, stepping away from his brother. “Regulus, you need help.”

“I need that locket! Where…” Regulus mutters, voice cracking as he stares up at Sirius with wide glassy eyes. “Don’t tell me I left it there.”

“You need to get back in bed,” Sirius says, his voice tight as he observes his brother like he is a wounded animal. He knows Regulus hates the pity, yet he cannot bring himself to wipe his expression. “Reg please.”

“Just get out…” Regulus says, tears fully falling now. He is shaking, resembling a leaf pushed by the autumn winds. He is muttering things that Sirius cannot decipher, and truly he does not believe himself to be worthy of those thoughts. “Go.”

Sirius inhales deeply, the air sharp in his lungs, as if he’s trying to breathe through a wall of thick fog. His eyes flick to the doorway for a moment, his mind still tangled in the chaos he’s just left behind. He nods to no one in particular, a gesture that feels more like surrender than agreement, and slowly turns, stepping out into the hallway.

Remus is waiting there, just as he always is. Ready to catch him, should he fall. But it’s not just his hands that reach out…his presence is a quiet comfort, like a soft blanket on a cold night, the promise that Sirius doesn’t have to face this alone. The weight of their shared history presses down on Sirius’ shoulders, but he doesn’t need to speak to feel the understanding that hangs between them.

Whispers of praise, soft and undeserved, drift toward Sirius, small murmurs that try to lift him out of his spiraling thoughts. But he knows better than to listen. They’re like fleeting smoke, dissolving the moment they touch his ears, and they do nothing to erase the thick, suffocating reality of the world he’s trapped in.

“He needs more potions, I think,” Sirius mutters, his voice small, like it doesn't quite matter.

But before he can fully succumb to the weight of the moment, Lily’s voice cuts through the stillness, sharp and direct, like a blade that doesn’t ask for permission.

“He’s maxed out on them for now.”

Sirius looks up, meeting her eyes. She leans against James, her posture weary, but there’s still a sharpness to her gaze that doesn’t belong in a person who’s been awake for so long. Her words hang in the air like smoke, thick with an edge of bitterness. “He’s lucky I didn’t cut his arm off after seeing that mark. Would’ve served him right.”

Sirius knows better than to argue, though the anger in her words pricks at him. Regulus specifically aligned himself with a group that despises her very existence, but even so she won’t let her emotions cloud her judgment. But still…her words sting.

“Lils—”

But Sirius interrupts, his voice bitter, tinged with something darker. "He said the same thing," he says, a humorless smile curling on his lips. It falters as quickly as it came, his expression dropping into something colder. He sweeps his gaze around the room, his eyes landing on each of them like he’s seeing them for the first time. "What are we going to do with him?”

James furrows his brows at the question, his eyes narrowing as if trying to puzzle out something he can’t quite make sense of. “What do you mean?”

Sirius looks toward the door again, as if Regulus might be standing there, listening. His voice lowers, quieter, as if even the walls are enemies now. “We don’t have the room to keep him here long term.” He says it as if the weight of the words might crush him, because in some ways, it does. “And taking him to St. Mungo’s... it’ll raise too many questions, especially with that Dark Mark on his arm.” The words hang between them, heavy and foreboding, and for a moment, the silence is deafening.

James glances over at Lily, who looks back at him, a silent conversation passing between them, before James speaks up, his voice tentative but edged with an idea that he isn’t sure is fully formed. “We could take him…”

Sirius' eyes widen, the shock in them clear as he steps back, instinctively recoiling from the thought like it’s something too dangerous to touch. “What?” he asks, disbelief coloring his voice.

01 << >>03

Masterlist

#lowlylux #fanfiction #archive of our own #marauders fanfiction #marauders #jegulus #jegulily #wolfstar #jily #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #regulus black #james potter #sirius black #lily evans #remus lupin

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hprewetts · 2 years ago

Note

an angsty blurb or one shot with Remus dc what about🩷

i'm so sorry it took me a few days omg, i'm the world's slowest writer. that said, tysm for leaving a request<333 i hope i was enough, i used "you" because it comes more naturally to me but if someone wants third person they can say so and i'll try to suffice. i'm still very new to writing this format of fics but i appreciate the trust, here we go :)

This is not a tragedy

summary: you ask remus to get married after james and lily announce their engagement. his answer does not surprise you. 571 words. pairing: remus lupin x reader tags: non committed remus lupin, angst no comfort, open ending, break up (sort of), use of "you" for reader

"Let's do it," you say, "let's get married."

The air is cold against your cheeks once you step onto the balcony. Your breath comes out in white clouds of smoke, drawing trails of mist that disappear against the winds of winter. The words, too, come out slowly from your mouth.

Remus is smoking a cigarette, leaning onto the veranda. James, Sirius, Lily and Peter left a while ago. It's just you two now.

You wait, expectant. The snow rages outside your little flat. It rages inside you, too.

"We want to do it while we can," James had explained at the table, holding onto Lily's hands. The gesture had you breathless for a moment, painfully aware of how much you are missing. "We might not survive the war, the time for living is now."

And you had thought he had been right, at the time. James and Lily wanted to die without regrets and, in a way, their wedding itself was a defiance against the war.

You can not subdue us, it said, you cannot scare us. A pureblood and a muggleborn would be joined in marriage in the middle of the world's greatest attempt to stop exactly that. There is some sort of irony about it that sits quite right.

It's less romantic to you, really. Your love is but a mundane feeling.

James and Lily are larger than life in contrast; their union a symbol of something rebellious, their love alive against all odds.

You feel a little selfish, after giving it some thought, because the only thing you want is Remus to yourself. But perhaps just loving is enough, during these times of terror.

Remus inhales, then slowly lets out a puff of smoke. You just stare, trying to remember this moment. The way his tousled hair sits against his forehead, that scar on his nose you've always been so fond, the way his scars shine against the moonlight. You try to remember, treasure this instant so it won't be lost forever, knowing that you'll lose him.

"I'm sorry," Remus says without meeting your gaze. It's something quiet and small, you can't bring yourself to blame him. "But I can't."

The blow comes quietly, making your chest hurt. You can't say this is groundbreaking, that the world shatters around you because it does not. You held a little hope that he'd say yes, that his love for you would be stronger than whatever it is he's fighting back.

But it does not.

You were always an outsider, a stranger in your own relationship. Remus had always hidden something from you, something big, that you should have known. He disappeared, for days on end, and would never tell you where. When you asked about his scars, he'd lie, his innermost worries, he'd never tell. Remus never let you see him whole, but you thought he would, with time and patience, and that was your mistake.

You were just never that kind of couple.

"I'm sorry," Remus says again.

"I know," you whisper.

"I love you," he repeats.

"I know," you say back.

You try to remember this moment, record it on your memory, but even as he stands before you, the details have already started escaping your memory.

Remus Lupin was never and would never be yours. But you've known that for so long it might as well not hurt at all.

Except it does. It really, really does.

#remus lupin x reader #marauders era #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #hp drabble #the marauders #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin angst #pls be kind i'm new to writing tumblr #my requests are open #:)

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wastelandmoony · 11 months ago

Note

Heyy I don’t know if you take requests or not but I saw you write for both HL and the marauders, and I’ve had this specific fic idea that I cannot find to save my life (and I’m a shit writer) so I was wondering about like fem!hufflepuff!reader during the marauders era, but she has like the ancient magic from HL (maybe voldemort is trying to harness it instead of ranrok) and nobody knows except her 😳😳 and she’s friends with the marauders but she kinda has a thing for remus and he does too but they’re so shy, and somehow her powers get revealed, she gets hurt, angst + hurt/comfort???

Hi!!! I don't explicitly take requests, but I'm also not opposed to them so thank you for submitting one! I feel like this is a little more angsty than you were originally after, so I apologize lol

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Icarian Carrion

Pairing: Remus Lupin x F!reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: Angst, language, sexual innuendos

Hogwarts, 1978

The Room of Requirement was silent as she inhaled deeply, letting both eyes sink shut. The wand hummed against her palm, a constant almost imperceptible vibration that kept her grounded. She listened closely to the chirping birds, the rustling of leaves, the creak of branches. Exhaling slowly, she opened her eyes and braced for the targets. Quickly, multiple dummies rose from the bushes, and she unleashed her attack one after another. The power flowing through her spanned back generations, handed down by her mother, from her mother before her, her mother before her, and so on, tracing back to the 1800s. She’d known she was different from a young age, having abilities to see things others could not, being able to wield magic far beyond her years; her mother was not surprised of course, being the one to harness identical power, and the moment she was able to fully comprehend the scope of it, her mother sat her down and explained their family history.

During the Goblin Rebellion in the late 19th century, her great-great-grandmother uncovered a hidden repository filled with ancient magic. To ensure the magic was never able to fall into the wrong hands, she absorbed it, passing it down generation after generation. Her mother instilled in her the knowledge of how large of a responsibility this was, that this power could still be harnessed by outside forces by coercion and manipulation. She would always need to be on guard, and always trust her instincts.

So here she was, blasting at dueling dummies in the Room of Requirement during her free period between classes. The news had been getting increasingly more dire, and it seemed like James had a new update from his parents on the war efforts almost every other day now. Her mother worried that the day might come when her abilities would be necessary, so she had warned her via owl post months ago to be ready for anything, whether that be fighting back or disappearing completely. There was already a plan in place to pull her out of school and lie low outside of the country should her parents feel that she was in danger. But she refused to run, refused to hide, especially with her friends all eager on joining the Order. The lot of them had vowed to do it after leaving school in a few months, Sirius and James foaming at the mouth for the chance to fight. None of them knew about her abilities, a secret her family had kept for generations, but continuing that tradition was becoming harder and harder because of one person in particular.

She exited the Room of Requirement quietly, keeping cool and neutral to avoid being caught. As she rounded the corner towards the main stairway, a hand pulled her down the opposite hall.

“What were you doing?” Remus stared at her curiously, the ghost of a smirk on his face.

“Studying?” She choked out, trying her best to sound convincing and normal.

He didn’t buy it.

“Bullshit,” he rolled his eyes playfully, “don’t lie to me, you’re a terrible liar, love.”

Fuck. He always knew how to rip at her heartstrings with a single word. She had met the boys during her first year at school, quickly melding into their group seamlessly. They became a tightly knit group, over the years folding in more friends like Marlene, Lily, and Mary. Out of them all though, Remus had always been her closest confidant. They were never far from one another, always drawn in like magnets. She loved him fiercely, a feeling that up until the past year or so she had thought was strictly platonic; ignoring all of the butterflies and skipped heartbeats when he was near. She loved him. She was in love with him. She would rather die than risk their friendship and address it.

Pushing past him to continue back toward the stairs, she huffed. “I’m not lying, I was studying for Defense. Something you could probably benefit from…” she gave him a sarcastic glance, catching his overly-dramatic scoff.

“Excuse me?” It only took him a few long strides to catch up to her, falling into step as they made their way downstairs, “I’ll have you know that I’ve received top marks in Defense every single year.”

She bit back a grin, walking towards the Great Hall. The distant sound of students eating echoed down the corridor.

“You’re up to something,” Remus narrowed his eyes suspiciously, just as the smell of lunch permeated the air. He was always so easily distracted by food, something she never failed to use to an advantage. “I’ll figure it out soon enough, don’t you worry.” He smirked playfully, immediately dropping his crusade in lieu of joining the other boys at the table.

She sighed with mild relief, taking her place beside him.

———

It was stupid of her to assume that Remus had forgotten about seemingly catching her at the Room of Requirement, though hindsight is 20/20 after all. The following week, she made her usual trip up to practice with the dummies again, only this time she had a visitor. The corridor outside the room was clear (she always made sure to triple check), so she quietly whispered the phrase to make the door appear. As she slipped into the room, Remus snuck in behind her, eliciting a swift shove against the wall.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She hissed, slamming the door shut before anyone else could come in, keeping her palm flat against his chest.

He smiled triumphantly as she backed away, “I followed you.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Creep.”

Remus chuckled quietly, peering around at the Room of Requirement and whistling low in admiration. “This is…something else…”

Sighing, she sat in a chair beside a large wooden desk strewn with papers and books. “I come here to study.” Not a complete lie, which kept the guilt from eating away at her.

Remus hummed questioningly, staring out at the dueling dummies that lined the magically-created forest off to the left.

“I don’t think you do, at least not for classes anyway,” he mused, gaze coming to a scrutinizing rest on her. “Tell me what’s going on. You’ve been my best friend for years, I know when something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong Remus,” she mumbled, heart beginning to beat out of her chest.

“Whatever it is,” his expression softened slightly, “I can help. Let me help you.”

She shook her head, resolve beginning to chip. “You can’t help this time…”

She watched as he visibly swallowed dryly, “So…there is something going on then, isn’t there?”

For a few moments, they stared at each other, standing at the edge of an impasse. Finally, she sighed, and began to tell Remus everything.

———

“So you’ve been preparing to fight?” Remus had paled slightly when she explained her end goal. No matter what her parents wanted, she was going to use her abilities to fight back. It could be a turning point in the war, if only she could strengthen and control them fully.

She nodded firmly, unwavering even after hearing him beg for her to stay out of this. “Do you—do you want me to show you?”

Remus smiled slightly, eager to see the ancient magic she had described in action. He watched intently as she cast some of it towards the dummies, illuminating the space around them with bright blue light before each dummy shattered into pieces with barely a flick of her wrist. When she finished, Remus stared at her in awe, like a goddess come down to this earth. She blushed at the intensity of his gaze, “Please stop looking at me like that.”

He didn’t. Instead, abruptly spitting out a sentence that froze her entirely.

“You’re so beautiful.”

She stared back at him, “…what?”

Remus shook his head, averting his eyes quickly as he realized what he had said out loud. “I uh—I should go actually. I forgot I told Sirius I’d meet him—“

“Yeah. That’s…fine,” she coughed nervously, “I’ll see you at dinner later?”

Remus nodded, and she didn’t miss the blush that dusted his cheeks as he turned towards the door.

———

London, 1979

Sirius swung his legs as he sat on the kitchen counter, watching as the two of them bickered back and forth. “Oh come off it Moony!” He smirked, taking a sip of his coffee, “Let her go, she’s one of the best fighters we have.”

She shot Sirius a wink, quickly focusing back on Remus’ scowling face.

“I’m not letting her go off on this completely insane mission for Dumbledore!” Remus snapped, folding his arms across his chest in finality.

“You’re not letting me?” Her eyes widened, “I'm sorry, but who are you to determine what I may or may not do with my own life?”

Remus visibly bristled, “Your best fucking friend! Someone who cares very deeply about you!”

She hummed, just as Sirius mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like “that’s one way to put it.”

“Well as my best friend, you of all people should respect my wishes. I’m doing the job, and you can’t stop me,” she pushed past him to exit the kitchen they all shared, but not before Sirius could let out a frustrated huff of annoyance.

“Can you two just please, do us all a favor, and fuck already?”

She stopped in her tracks, Remus freezing as well. Neither of them made a move until she turned slowly to glare daggers at Sirius.

“What the fuck is wrong with you…” she mumbled, finally storming down the hallway and slamming the door to her room.

Sirius smirked, hopping off the counter to clap Remus on the shoulder. “All I’m gonna say, is that I’m going to James’ house for a few hours. So feel free to be as loud as you want. Get out some of that anger.”

Before Remus could swat him, Sirius ducked and apparated to meet James.

He sighed, collecting his thoughts before making the walk down to her room, unable to let her leave on a bad note. The mission she had be asked to lead was a dangerous one, Dumbledore had asked for her personally. Remus wasn’t sure of the entire job, seeing as how he wasn’t involved, but he had a feeling it had to do with her abilities. Dumbledore had found out about them shortly after they all joined the Order, but only because she had let him. She wanted to show him that she could be a weapon, and a devastating one at that; one that the Order could use (or exploit as he put it) to end the war. The notion didn’t sit right with Remus, something he had tried to express multiple times to her with no response other than “Dumbledore knows what he’s doing, Remus”. Knocking softly, he listened for a response.

“I don’t want to talk to you Remus,” she called through the door, immediately knowing he would show up and apologize moments after their fight. They’d been friends for too long, their habits and quirks were as familiar as a reflection.

Remus sighed, “Please open the door. I just…I need to talk to you.”

The lock clicked, door opening a crack to reveal her stoic face. “Go ahead, then.”

He resisted rolling his eyes, “May I come in?”

“You don’t seem to have an issue dictating my actions, so you tell me.”

Before he could respond, she turned and sat on her bed, allowing him entrance into her room. Even though no one else was home, he shut the door quietly to create more tangible privacy. She looked at him expectantly.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He offered calmly.

“No you’re not,” she sighed, “You’ve done this before, and you’ll do it again. I just—I just wish you’d have more faith in me, I guess…”

Remus stared at her like she’d struck him. “Have faith in you? Love, I’m in awe of you always.”

Her heart began to flutter erratically, meeting his eyes to try and find any bit of mockery in his words. She found none.

“How could I not be?” He continued, “You’re the strongest witch I know, and one of the smartest people I’ve ever met—and that’s not even taking into account your ancient power.”

She blushed, giving him a small smile as she looked up at him, “…One of the smartest?”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Fine. The smartest person I know.”

She stood up and hugged him, melting into his warmth as he returned the embrace. “Apology accepted. But please…can you try to not control my every move from now on? I’m going to be a part of this war whether you like it or not.”

Remus rested a cheek atop her head, “I just can’t lose you…and I know how determined you are. I don’t want you to get caught up and become involved in something you can’t come back from.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise. The mission isn’t even happening just yet, there’s still time to prepare. You just need to trust me,” she looked up at him.

“I promise to trust you if you promise to always come back to me,” he murmured.

For the briefest of moments, she hated him. Hated the way he made her heart soar, hated the way her fingers itched to trace every scar that marred his skin, hated how her lips craved to discover what his felt like. But more than that, she hated the coward within her, the one that didn’t dare reveal the truth to him. So instead, she buried her face in his chest and squeezed him tightly. “I’ll always come back to you Remus.”

———

London, 1980

Her bag had been packed for over a week, sitting underneath her bed as it awaited retrieval. The war had taken a turn for the worse, all of them living in a constant state of fear for not only themselves but for others. She knew the orders for the mission were incoming; she could feel it. James and Lily had told them all about the prophecy regarding their unborn child, a boy if it was believed to be true, a little boy they were to name Harry. The news had struck her so hard she had almost vomited right there on the Potter’s carpet. Remus’s arm around her waist was the only thing that kept her upright. That night, when they arrived back at the apartment, Sirius went straight to his room without another word, silent and angry. She had sat in Remus’s arms and cried until the tears wouldn’t come, settling for the sweet oblivion of sleep instead. She’d awoken pressed against his chest, Remus choosing to stay intertwined on the couch instead of depositing her sleeping body in her own bed. The memory of his peaceful face inches from hers that morning is the one that kept her moving as she threw the bag strap over her shoulder and apparated to a small house near the Forest of Dean. She thought of him and it gave her a reason to leave; she needed to help save him. She needed to help save all of them. Her non-essential belongings were left behind in the apartment, along with a note for Remus that she placed atop his dresser.

“I’ll always come back to you,” is all it said.

———

Islington, 1995

Remus followed the scent of coffee from their bedroom on the 2nd floor of Grimmauld Place. It was one of life’s simple pleasures that he still managed to hold onto during times like this. As he trudged into the kitchen with a yawn, Sirius placed a mug on the table and smiled softly.

“Morning, Moony,” he said as Remus sat down, offering a fond look of his own. They were both confined to the townhouse, Sirius in all actuality, but Remus more in solidarity; and though the isolation was sometimes stifling, Remus quite enjoyed the domesticity it allowed them. It reminded him of her. Sirius tossed the Daily Prophet onto the table in front of Remus, another daily habit of his being combing the paper for any news or breakthroughs in the war. He still couldn’t believe it was all happening again…

On the fourth page, about halfway down, a small article caught his attention:

Dumbledore Loyalist Spy Found Dead in Ireland.

Smiling in a Ministry photo below, was her.

He couldn’t breathe.

He’d spent 15 years searching for her, trying to find any information as to where she had disappeared to that night over a decade ago. Her letter was still in his drawer. Remus would read it every now and then when the memories got to be too much.

I’ll always come back to you.

He had believed it.

He was a fool.

“Oh my darling, what have you done…” he whispered, hand coming to cover his mouth.

Sirius appeared over his shoulder to see what was going on, immediately gripping Remus’ shoulder in support. “Fuck…” he whispered, “Moony, I’m—“

Remus shook his head, “He knew…”

“Who knew?” Sirius kept a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“Dumbledore fucking knew she was alive this whole time!” Remus slammed a fist onto the table, rattling the coffee mugs. “Sirius, he knew I was looking for her! He saw it all and said nothing! He let her—he let her die…” His face crumpled as the tears began to fall, dropping onto the newspaper and smudging the ink in their wake.

“Remus,” Sirius said softly, holding back tears of his own, “I’m so sorry…”

A low growl sounded from Remus, standing up to launch his coffee mug across the kitchen, smashing against the far wall in a spray of ceramic. “He used her! He made her into a fucking weapon that he just—that he just could throw away!”

Sirius gripped his arm, moving around to hug him, letting Remus release a deep sob into his chest.

“I loved her,” he whispered, “I never told her…”

Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat, “I know…we all knew.”

Remus sniffed, “Do you—do you think she did?”

He sat with the thought for a moment, remembering the way Remus and her had always looked at each other, how they would always be within arms reach. He remembered the night he found them on the couch, a week before she disappeared, Remus cradling her closely as they slept. He’d suspected for years that they were in love, but that night had solidified it.

Sirius met his eyes, a corner of his lips quirking upward, “She did. She might not have realized it…but I think she knew.”

Remus inhaled a shaky breath, and Sirius moved to sit on the bench. “She loved you too, y’know.”

Remus lifted his gaze, eyes red and glassy, “How d’you know?”

He shrugged, giving him a small, sad grin, “I just…it was obvious. At least to the rest of us apparently.”

Remus huffed out a sorry excuse of a laugh, the two of them sitting together in silence for a moment.

“I miss her Pads…” he whispered.

“I know, I do too,” Sirius threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in. Remus reached forward and tore out the article, ripping delicately around the photo so you could no longer see the headline. It was just her. The same eyes he had loved since they were eleven, the familiar smile that she’d give whenever she saw him. She looked older, they all did, but she was more beautiful to him than ever.

Remus stood from the table and went back up to his room, Sirius beginning to clean up the shattered coffee mug against his friend’s insistence. From his drawer, he pulled out the wrinkled letter, unfolding it to re-read the scribbled handwriting he’d spent years memorizing. Placing the small photo atop the note, he folded it back up, kissing it once.

“You broke your promise love,” he whispered, “but I forgive you. You know I could never stay mad at you for very long.”

Remus placed the note back in the top drawer, and headed back downstairs to help Sirius clean up the mess he had made.

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