#Remus Lupin x Sirius Black

[my-castles-crumbling]

crush - November 23 - wolfstar raising harry - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 277

"...and Ron said that it's stupid to like people but I don't think so," Harry was prattling on, avoiding the homework his first grade teacher had assigned that evening. "I mean...I can have a crush if I want to, right?"

Sirius thought about that for moment, wishing, not for the first time that day, that James and Lily were still there. "You can have a crush on whoever you want, Prongslet," he nodded, giving the boy a smile. "You just have to make sure, when you're older and you want to do something about your crushes, that the other person is okay with it. Alright?"

Harry nodded thoughtfully. After a moment, though, his demeanor changed. "Pads, you have a crush, don't you?" he asked, smiling a knowing smile, as if he'd found out one of Sirius's biggest secrets.

Very curious as to where this was going, Sirius pretended to gasp in surprise, placing a hand on his chest. "I have no idea what you mean! Who do you think I could possibly have a crush on?"

But Harry just giggled, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I'm not stupid, Pads, I'm six. I know you have a crush on Moony. You get all smiley around him. And guess what?"

Resisting the urge to melt with Harry's statement, Sirius just lowered his voice as well, whispering conspiratorially, "What?"

"I think he has a crush on you, too!" Harry said, eyes wide.

"I...that's good to know, Haz. Thanks for being my wingman," Sirius laughed, patting his godson on the shoulder.

He couldn't to tell his husband later that apparently, they were very obvious about their crushes on each other.

[uhhlifeig]

The Dorm Room - Nov. 23 - word count: 666 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Sirius Black sat on the edge of his bed, gripping the frame so hard his knuckles ached. 

Across the room, Remus stood by the window, stiff and unmoving, his back turned. James paced furiously, his footsteps heavy, while Peter hovered uncertainly, wringing his hands.

The oldest boy felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Do you even understand what you’ve done?” The werewolf’s voice was low, sharp, and sudden- worse than if he’d screamed. 

“I- I wasn’t thinking,” he managed, voice cracking.

“No,” Remus snapped, spinning around to face him. His amber eyes burned with anger. “You weren’t. Because you never think, Sirius. You just act, and everyone else has to deal with the fallout.”

Sirius opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried again, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for it to-”

“To what?” The dirty blonde cut him off, taking a step closer. “To almost get Snape killed? To put me at risk? What exactly didn’t you mean, Sirius?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the room.

James stopped pacing, turning to glare at him. “Hurt him? You didn’t just hurt him, you betrayed him!”

“I know, I know,” Sirius said, his words tumbling out too fast. “I wasn’t thinking- I was just so angry at Snape, and-”

“Don’t,” Remus interrupted, his voice icy. “Don’t you dare try to justify this.”

“I’m not! I’m not trying to justify it, I just- I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking, and I-” He swallowed hard, his throat tight. “I’m sorry.”

The other boy’s laugh was sharp and bitter. “Sorry? Sorry doesn’t fix this. Sorry doesn’t erase what you did.”

“I’ll do anything. I’ll make it right. Just tell me what to do, Moony. Please.”

“What to do?” Remus repeated, his voice rising. “First, don’t call me that. You don’t deserve to. Second, how about you stop acting like this isn’t who you are?”

Sirius froze, his heart plummeting. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re no different from your family,” The werewolf spat, his voice filled with venom.

The words hit Sirius like a physical blow, knocking the air from his lungs. “I’m not like them.” 

He was trying to convince himself. How pathetic was that?

“Aren’t you? Lashing out, hurting people, thinking the rules don’t apply to you. That’s exactly what they do, isn’t it?”

“I’m not like them,” the noiret repeated, voice wavering.

“Stop saying that,” Remus snapped. “You don’t get to act like you’re better than them when you pull something like this. You don’t get to pretend.”

“I’m not pretending!” Sirius shouted, his voice cracking. “I’m not like them. I’m not.” He whispered the second part to himself, wrapping his arms around his torso.

Remus shook his head, turning away. “You are. They would be proud of you, Heir Black. We're over.”

Sirius staggered back, his legs hitting the bed. He sat down heavily, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.

“You don’t get to play the victim here,” James said out of nowhere, his voice sharp.

“I’m not.” the dog animagus said. He looked at Peter, who avoided his gaze, and then back at his ex-lover. “I just- I messed up, okay? I know I messed up, but I’m not like them.”

“You are,” Remus said again, without turning around.

Sirius felt his chest tighten, mind spiraling. 

He hated himself. Of course he did.

He hated the way he always ruined things, the way his anger always got the better of him. Hated the way his ex-boyfriend looked at him now, like he was nothing to him.

“I’ll go,” the oldest boy said suddenly, voice hollow.

Remus didn’t respond.

The silence stretched on, suffocating, until Sirius finally stood and stumbled toward the door. He didn’t know where he was going- he just knew he couldn’t stay there any longer.

“Good riddance,” he heard from his ex-best-friend as the door closed. “I hope he suffers.”

pt 2

@estellethewriter sorry i havent fed you in a while but you can have a Prank fic as payment!

[goldenprophetwrites]

i'm SO happy to see everyone engaging with our little fest ahhhh!!!

i can't wait to get started!!!

keep up with the fest on twitter where madds & i repost every pathetic remus tweet we come across hehe

and of course here on tumblr where kiki & rach will provide quality content

we'll be pushing the pathetic remus agenda until prompting starts in march!

We’re so excited to share with you the official schedule for Moony’s Midlife Crisis Fest! ❤️

July 8th is the official Prisoner of Azkaban release day. We want to celebrate that by having a fest centered around the older, more pathetic characterisation of our favourite Remus Lupin.

Tumblr mods:

@quiethauntings and @veganbutterchicken

Twitter mods:

@tealeavesandtrash and @goldenprophetwrites

Find us on Twitter here: @moony_fest

[yourgalgremlin]

"Sirius was too busy being a big rebel to get married."

— JKR (Edinburgh Book Festival, 2004)

Bsffr, Joanne:

The only thing that man was busy “rebelling against” was ✨heterosexuality✨ & the urge to wear that cųnty black robe w. his titties out 24/7.

He wasn’t too busy amid his own manhunt to go find his ex “roommate” for some flirty banter & a sensual hug because he has his priorities straight

[loonylupin2]

[itsriotmotherfuckers]

Remus needs a cane to walk and Sirius carries him around when his legs/hips/back start hurting argue with the wall

[l0standn0tf0und]

Remus John Lupin headcanons, but it gets more angsty with each paragraph

TW: mentions of chronic pain, self-harm, blood, grief, trauma, anger issues, smoking, sexual content.

Remus John Lupin, who loves and hates rings at the same time. He likes how they look, he likes the idea of them, he thinks it's the nicest type of jewelry but he can't stand the feeling of rings on his fingers. They shackle him even if they are a few sizes bigger and gonna fall off if he shakes his hand. Wearing a ring feels worse than a mosquito bite that constantly itches for him.

Remus John "the tallest Marauder" Lupin

Remus John Lupin, who wears meaningful rings on a simple chain around his neck. He genuinely wants to wear them like normal people do, but that's the only option that works for him. Remus John Lupin who reassures himself with the fact that this way the rings are closer to his heart after the thought of making another failed attempt has crossed his mind.

Remus John Lupin who picks at scabs of his unhealed wounds when he's nervous. And Remus John Lupin, who only realizes what he's doing when he feels the stickiness of blood on his fingers.

Remus John Lupin, who needs a cane. Not all the time, but after particularly tough moons. It's just for a couple of days, and he knows it. Remus John Lupin, who, each time, looks at this piece of wood with a special kind of hate in his eyes and sighs heavily before taking it and starting his day.

Remus John Lupin, who limped through the Hogwarts corridors, gritting his teeth in pain because he refused to use a cane. Too ashamed to admit his weakness and the extent of the damage he had done to himself.

Remus John Lupin, who limped through the Hogwarts corridors, gritting his teeth in pain until James got knocked off his broom in the dying minutes of one of the matches. Which led to his broken leg, several weeks of proud stag gait on crutches, and even more stag-like attempts to persuade Remus into the "high speed" race through the corridors. And also led to Remus coming to terms with using a cane.

Remus John Lupin, who you look at and can't figure out what he's like. Is he a shy nerdy guy who reads books voraciously? Or is he a thug who's gonna break your nose if you look at him the wrong way?

Remus John Lupin, who can't figure out himself what he's like.

Remus John Lupin, who hates the cane even more now. Remus John Lupin who looks at this piece of wood with a new kind of rage in his eyes and sighs hopelessly because each and every time he hears the echo of James's laughter after he finally agreed to the race and recalls as amusement gave way to confusion and then back to unbridled joy on Prongs' face when they almost crashed into Minnie on their way.

Remus John Lupin, who's gonna actually break your nose if you make him angry.

Remus John Lupin, who actually reads books voraciously.

Remus John Lupin, who has anger issues.

Remus John Lupin, who wears the coziest "grandpa's" sweaters.

Remus John Lupin, who genuinely wants to quit smoking.

Remus John Lupin who burned his couch once because he fell asleep with a cigarette in his hand.

Remus John Lupin, who throws the most punk leather jacket over his cozy "grandpa's" sweater.

Remus John Lupin, who lit up a cigarette right after extinguishing the fire. Because his biggest regret in this burned couch situation is the ashes, that got on the photo, leaving a burnt hole instead of the month, in the " September 1st at Hogwarts, 1976" in Sirius' neat handwriting.

Remus John Lupin, who questions himself if he was born with uncontrollable anger or if it's his "fluffy problem." And in general, what of his character belongs to him, and what to the wolf?

Remus John Lupin, who hates to call it the "fluffy problem." Because why for fucks sake use the word "fluffy"? Fluffy, it's something nice, sweet, and comforting. The wolf inside him is far from being nice, sweet, and comforting.

Remus, who cried himself to sleep because a random ginger girl knocked on his door, trick or treating.

Remus John Lupin, who gets extremely needy and horny before each full moon.

Remus John Lupin, who regrets that he didn't tear himself apart completely after each full moon.

Remus John Lupin, who can't stand to see anyone during the first few days after the full moon. Because it makes him think about Peter, who used to sneak chocolate past Madam Pomfrey to cheer him up during these first few days in the hospital wing.

Remus John Lupin who tries to hold back his tears and fails each time he hears "Happy Xmas" by John & Yoko.

Remus John Lupin, whose war was not over until he took his last breath.

And Remus John Lupin, who had known since childhood that his war would not be over until he took his last breath.

masterpost

[the-stars-were-his]

shatter - @padfootmicrofics - 49 words

in, out. in, out. in, out.

"just take some deep breaths," moony whispered.

in, out. in, out.

"i'm right here for you. let it all out."

in, out.

"i promise that i'm not leaving."

in, out.

"i'll always be here for you."

in, out.

"even when it all shatters."

[skyrigel]

People have the audacity to say they weren't fucking.

[my-castles-crumbling]

dorm room - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 299

James Potter was having a Day. He'd gotten a P in Potions, completely forgotten about an assignment in Transfiguration, and had failed at making a certain black-haired Slytherin look his way, even after spending half hour in front of the mirror this morning. Top it all off with a particularly shitty Quidditch practice, and he just wanted to go to bed.

Storming into the Common Room, he passed Peter, who was laying on the couch flipping through a magazine.

"I wouldn't go up there, mate," Peter warned him, jerking his head towards the stairs. "Sirius and-"

But James was far too irritated and tired to listen. "I don't give a rat's arse who Sirius has got up there. He can kick her out or bring her to an empty classroom. I want to sleep."

And, without waiting for his friend's reply, he stomped up the stairs, opening the door to the seventh-year boys' room without knocking. "Sirius, get the fuck out, I-" he started, but immediately broke out with a gasp.

"Oi!"

"Fuck!"

"What are you-?" James froze, mouth open wide. Because Sirius was not in his bed with a girl. He wasn't even in his own bed.

He was in Remus's bed. With Remus.

All three boys, two of them mostly-naked and in a very compromising situation, stared at each other, none of them speaking, none of them knowing what to say.

After a moment, James cleared his throat. "Erm...I'll go. I...congrats? Yeah..er...yeah. Bye, then." And he backed out, closing the door and desperately trying to wipe that image from his mind.

"Back so soon?" Peter asked innocently when he returned, a grin on his face.

"I can't even be mad," James grumbled, taking the armchair near him. "Now they'll finally stop being to pathetic about each other."

[uhhlifeig]

Prefect's Bathroom - Nov. 22 - word count: 532 - @wolfstarmicrofic

The prefects' bathroom was bathed in the soft, golden glow of enchanted lanterns. 

Lavender-scented steam coiled lazily towards the ceiling, and the water in the massive tub shimmered. 

Sirius Black lounged in the water on one side, his dark hair damp and sticking to his neck, his grin as unshakable as ever.

“You know,” he began, “for someone who’s usually so composed, you’re doing a terrible job of pretending you’re not enjoying yourself.”

Remus Lupin, sitting on the opposite side, arms folded on the marble edge, shot him a flat look. “Enjoying myself? Because I have to endure you and your never-ending commentary?”

“Endure me?” Sirius’s grin widened. “Come on, Moony, admit it. I’m at least half the reason you’re here.”

The werewolf raised an eyebrow, his expression carefully neutral. “Oh, really? And what’s the other half?”

“The bubbles, obviously,” his friend said, gesturing to the colorful foam between them. “Irresistible.”

Despite himself, Remus snorted, his lips twitching upward. Sirius seized on the reaction like it was a victory.

“There it is. A genuine Remus Lupin smile. Rare and precious.”

“You’re unbearable,” the taller boy replied, shaking his head.

“Maybe. But you’re still here.” Sirius tapped his chin, as if deep in thought. “Why is that, Moony?”

“You’re awfully full of yourself, you know.”

“Only because I’m right,” the older boy countered. “Admit it- you like me.”

Remus looked up sharply, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re avoiding the question.” Sirius tilted his head, his grin taking on a sly edge. “Come on, Moony. Be brave.”

The dirty blonde rolled his eyes, pulse quickening. “Fine,” he said, his voice steady. “Maybe I do.”

Sirius blinked, his smirk faltering for just a second. “You do?”

Remus was the one who moved closer this time. “You know,” he said, his voice low, “you’re even more attractive when you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered,” the noiret muttered, though his flushed cheeks told a different story.

“Liar.” The younger boy leaned in further, his face only inches away now. “Do I make you nervous, Padfoot?”

Sirius didn’t answer immediately, his gaze flicking briefly to Remus’s mouth before snapping back to his eyes. “Maybe a little,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

Before  the werewolf could respond, his friend closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Remus’s in a kiss that was as bold as it was careful. 

For a moment, the boy froze, caught off guard- but then he kissed back, his hands gripping the edge of the marble as if to steady himself. The kiss deepened, Sirius tilting his head and drawing a soft sound from Remus.

When they finally broke apart, the dog animagus didn’t pull back entirely, his forehead resting lightly against the other boy’s. 

“See?” he murmured, his voice low and breathless. “Not so unbearable after all.”

Remus huffed a quiet laugh. “I hate how smug you are.”

“Liar,” Sirius said, sliding his hands under the water, brushing deliberately against the dirty blonde’s knee. “I think you like it.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Black.”

The older boy’s grin turned wolfish, his fingers trailing lightly against Remus’s thigh. “Oh, Moony,” he whispered. “I’m counting on it.”

[logolepsy-babble]

Lily: I want to confess something.

James: Go ahead!

Lily: I fancy girls.

Peter: Me too!

Lily: And… I fancy Mary…

Remus: I’m happy for you. I want you to know you are accepted. I like men.

Sirius: Wait what?

James: Are we all coming out? I’m bi, I fancy Regulus.

Sirius: Ex-fucking-scuse me?

[propussyslayer]

sirius: so what do you do for a living

remus: i hunt and kill zombies

sirius: the fuck no you don't

remus: have you ever seen one?

sirius: no?

remus: then you are fucking welcome

[loonylupin2]

The eyes of the Moon and the Star

[melstinybrain]

*sirius and james arguing*

james: *takes off his glasses*

sirius: EVEN IF HE- what are you doing?

james: I don't want to see you right now.

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

summary: You and Sirius are in dire need of a new coach just weeks before the Olympics. Remus is a former figure skating prodigy forced to retire after a career-ending injury. Though it's not smooth skating right away, those stiff Olympic village beds are dying to be broken in.

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12

cw: modern au, chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus still wakes before dark every morning. It’s automatic, an urgency and excitement that thrums through him like an old instinct, born from years of his alarm clock rousing him at this time. The rink is always at its best right now, when they’ve just finished resurfacing the ice and no one else is around. It was Remus’ favorite time to practice. 

Now, he has a new reason to get up. His hip clicks as he does it, so he starts his day with a couple of proactive painkillers. If he really wanted to be proactive he would stretch like he’s supposed to, but there’s no time and Remus doesn’t feel like it. He’ll pay his toll for the negligence later. 

The webpage of his Airbnb boasted a five-minute walk to the rink, but with his hip it takes Remus seven. It’s like an odd sort of muscle memory, an old routine from another life that feels as bitter as it does comfortable. He heads out early to give himself some cushion. The streets are empty but for bakers and baristas, the first hints of dawn tinging the sky a deep blue. When he turns a corner and the rink comes into view, the absence of his bag hanging from his shoulder is a phantom ache. 

The front doors are locked but the side one staff uses isn’t, the Zamboni driver already inside. Remus lets himself in, makes a cup of tea from the hot water dispenser they leave out when concessions are closed, plants himself on a bench, and waits. 

And waits. 

And waits. 

Remus has nearly nodded off when two pairs of shoes come bounding up to him. Well, one pair bounds. The other drags. 

“Hi, sorry we’re late.” You’re breathless and hauling a sullen-looking boy along behind you by the hand, but you manage a smile when Remus looks up at you. “I had to run over and get him out of bed. It’s good to meet you!”

You hold out your untethered hand. Remus might normally stand to take it, but he no longer feels like doing you the courtesy. Your grip is firm and warm. 

“You were supposed to be here at six,” he says. 

You wince. “I know. Sorry, Sirius is really not a morning person.” 

Remus thinks that he might put more stock into your apologies if you looked a tad more contrite. As it is, your countenance is almost cheery, a fizzy eagerness about you as you look between him and the ice like you can’t wait to get out on it. 

In stark contrast, the ill-tempered boy behind you seems not to have a clue where he is. He looks rumpled and disoriented, squinting in the rink’s fluorescent light. 

“Then why didn’t you pick another time?” Remus asks. 

He hadn’t realized he was still looking at Sirius, or that the other boy could talk, so it’s a surprise when he answers. “Wasn’t my bloody idea.” 

By the way you grin, Remus wonders if you’ve even heard the obvious bitterness in your partner’s tone, or whether it’s gone straight over your head. 

“I like the rink better early,” you explain. “No one else ever comes before the hockey practice starts at nine, and they’ll have just finished resurfacing the ice.” 

Begrudgingly, Remus nods. “I always preferred it about now, too.” 

He realizes immediately that his agreement was a mistake, because your smile grows into something far too brilliant for the early hour. Christ, what has he gotten himself into? There’s you, starry-eyed and effervescing all over the place, and your partner, who looks more inclined to fall asleep on your shoulder than put on his skates. 

And this is the pair skating duo Remus is supposed to take to the Olympics. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Watch that back foot!” Remus shouts across the ice.

Sirius doesn’t look happy about it, but he corrects the placement of his skate, transitioning smoothly into the next synced turn. 

“Good,” Remus murmurs to himself. 

Once Sirius got out on the ice and woke up a bit, he was good. He skates with the technical proficiency of someone who’s been in the sport since before they started primary school, and the intuitive artistry of someone who loves it. You’re much the same, though your virtuosity and obvious competence are consistently undercut by hesitation, the grace of your movements interrupted when you second-guess yourself. But these—technical prowess paired with devotion—are the basics of what makes a good figure skater. You’ll have to be flawless if you want to do well at the Olympics. 

And Remus has found many flaws. 

“No, no—shit!” Remus stands as you fall out of your jump again, catching yourself on your forearms. “You’re still under-rotating! Come on!” 

Sirius snarls a quick “Hey!” over his shoulder before turning his back on Remus, going to help you up. He speaks to you quietly, checking you over as you stand. Remus seethes. 

He has no clue why he’s been called out here to coach a pair. Remus doesn’t know pairs, has never been a part of one. He was a solo skater. And frankly, it makes him wary that what’s supposed to be the best skating pair in Britain has asked him, a former solo skater who’s been isolated from the figure skating community in general for the past two years, to coach them. But Remus does know figure skating. And he knows when skaters are making stupid mistakes behind their skill level. 

“What aren’t you understanding?” asks Remus as you skate back to the edge of the rink. He really wants to know. “It’s simple. You can do this.” He knows he could have. As easy as breathing, and he would kill to have the chance again. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Sirius’ glare is sharp as knives. He steps off the ice before you can, positioning himself between you and Remus. Your lips purse with a knowing sort of apprehension. 

“Sirius…” 

“No, you don’t talk to her like that,” Sirius spits. “It was a tiny mistake.” 

Remus raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “I’m trying to help her! It was a giant mistake, with a simple fix. You ought to be telling her the same, unless you’re okay with your partner snapping her ankle weeks out from competition.” 

“None of that means you get to fucking yell at her! Who do you think you are?” 

“Okay—” 

“I’m her coach,” says Remus, voice rising, “and—”

“Then coach her! Maybe if you’d give some actual fucking feedback instead of just nitpicking—” 

“Okay!” Your shout cuts through the space, echoing in the empty rink and silencing the other two. “That’s enough.” 

You haul Sirius back by his shoulder. Your grip doesn’t look severe enough to move him, but he goes, stepping back to your side. His eyes never leave Remus’. 

Your own gaze jumps between both boys, that same spark he’d seen in you earlier burning with a different light. 

“Let’s call it for today,” you say firmly. “Okay? We’ll try again tomorrow.” 

Neither boy speaks, though Remus nods. It seems to be taking all of Sirius’ willpower to bite his tongue. He gets the impression it isn’t something he succeeds at often, so Remus isn’t ashamed to say that it brings him a perverse sort of joy to see it now. His tiny bit of smugness fizzles out, though, when your eyes land on him. There’s something desolate in your expression that’s a salient deviation from how you’d looked at him before. Remus has the sinking feeling that he’s disappointed you. It’s more distressing than he can account for. 

“We’ll be here on time tomorrow,” you say in that same steady tone. “And my jump, I’ll work on it.” 

Remus nods again. You return it, and when you turn to leave, you drag Sirius after you by his shirtsleeve, picking up your bags along your way. Remus’ mouth feels dry. His lips are chapped, his fingertips hurt from the cold, and the sight of your skates sinking into the rubbery floor makes his hip ache terribly. 

It’s only once you’re nearly out of earshot that he manages to mumble, “Thank you.”