#f: SHINING SIRIUS

[daenysx]

Hiiii,,,I have a request 😋

How about gym rat!james and gf reader going to the gym together for the first time? He’s like helping her out and teaching her how to use the machines,, basically acting as a coach hahahaha

Idk thought it was cute c:

thank you for requesting, this is so sweet!!! i'm being really honest right now, i have no idea about gym things, angels, so i'm really sorry if there's any mistake. i hope you enjoy <33333

james potter x fem!reader, fluff and a bit suggestive at the end (because james looks perfect when he works out and you're definitely turned on by watching him)

"james, i'm not strong enough for this."

james looks at you like you say the strangest thing ever. you only spent 10 minutes at the gym and you can feel your sore muscles getting tired.

"what?" he asks, holding a huge bottle of water. "of course you are strong. you just need some warm up before doing more strenuous stuff."

you huff, looking around. people here look so concentrated, just like james. it's been a long time since you've done any sport but you accepted james's offer to try some exercises to spent time with him at the gym. he loves being here, always says how good it feels to forget about anything when he's focused on working out and these days he needs to be here more, before the beginning of the new season with his team.

"you look really good in these clothes." you say to him cheekily. he's so tall and the top he wears makes his muscles more prominent than ever. what can you do, ignore the fact that he looks like a statue?

"you're not gonna get what you want this time, you little minx." james says, kissing your cheek. "come on, try again."

you try to warm up for a few minutes, doing exactly how he shows you. james counts down, sometimes he adjusts your legs or your waist to correct your posture. at the end of the first twenty minutes, you're sure you'll faint on him.

"i promise i'm not saying this because i don't like it-" you start. "but it's so hard, jamie!"

you pout, sitting on the floor. james gives you his bottle before sitting next to you. "you've done so well, angel. you just gotta give your body some time."

"i won't be able to leave the bed for three days."

"come on, you're being more dramatic than sirius." he laughs.

"no, it's true." you say, seriously. "you'll see that when you have to carry me everywhere."

"poor baby." he mocks, rubs a hand over your thighs. "do you wanna take a break? you can watch me if you want."

"yes!" you say, standing up happily. "i wanna watch you."

james holds your hand, leading you to the room where people use weightlifting stuff. he chats with a few guys, introduces you proudly. you smile, he looks so happy to have you with him here. you kiss his cheek before letting him go to do his thing.

watching james here feels so strange. he looks perfect, your legs shake with pride. he's doing it flawlessly, his skin shining with sweat as he keeps lifting. you smile, he makes a lot of noise. he breathes loudly when he finishes.

clapping your hands, you go next to him. "you're so good, jamie." you admire your boyfriend. he smiles. "i had a lovely audience this time."

he pulls you to his lap and you settle down on his thighs. the gym isn't so crowded, there are only a few people in the huge room you are in. you look around before kissing his lips.

"i need a shower." he says. "sweating."

"don't care." you say. "you look hot."

"stop being distracting." he says but you know he doesn't mean it. he kisses you so nicely. "i'm not done yet."

"it's been 45 minutes." you say. "aren't you tired?"

the truth is, you know james is not tired. he can keep going for at least an hour, he's used to this stuff. you just think you can't keep watching, it makes you wanna jump on him and this is a public place so it's not such a nice thought to have here.

"do you wanna go home?" he asks. "i usually do a little more but if you're tired we can leave."

he's so gentle with you and you don't wanna interrupt his training for your not-so-subtle intentions. you give him a smile before leaving his lap. "i'm not tired. we can stay as long as you want."

somehow you manage to keep your thoughts to yourself and leave james do his thing. you walk inside the gym a bit, james showed you the equipments when you first walked in. even though you only spent like half an hour working out, you still feel good. your arms and legs feel sore a little but james says it's normal, you trust his word.

after another hour with you watching your boyfriend and him doing his usual exercises, james says you can leave. he takes a few minutes in the shower while you wait for him and then holds your hand. "thank you for coming with me." he says as you walk to the car.

"thank you for putting up with my dramatics." you say. "maybe i can come with you more. i'm not promising working out though, only for watching you."

"you liked watching me?" he asks, smirking.

"james, you gotta be kidding me." you say, being so so serious. "do you know how you look when you're lifting and making it look so easy? i was trying so hard to keep my hands to myself."

you don't think you've ever been this bold with your affections but james deserves it. he looks kinda shocked but he has no right to be, what did he think you'll say? now, you're the one who's smirking and he blushes a bit.

"you should've told me before, angel." he says, going back to his normal self a second later. "we could leave earlier for home if i had known."

he opens the door of the passenger side for you. "and then what?" you ask, pulling him closer as you sit. he holds the door with one hand, your cheek with another.

"i don't know." he shrugs. "you could show me what you were thinking of doing."

"i really could." you whisper. you don't know how the conversation turned into such a teasing thing but you like it anyway. "too bad my legs are hurting."

he kisses your lips before closing the door. "you won't have to use your legs for the things i'll do to you." he says. you swallow before buckling your seatbelt. the car feels too hot suddenly. james has to keep his hand on your thigh the entire way home.

[sleepiexx]

The Sad Expression on the Face I Love So Much

Remus Lupin x fem!Reader

Note: one bad week and suddenly I’m a fic writing god again. Had a Sirius oneshot planned out and mostly written but I pumped this one out before I could think of an ending to that one so you’re getting this first!

Summary: Your boyfriend patiently awaits your arrival home after a day out with your friends, only to be met with your saddened form.

Warnings: describes what i would refer to as a panic attack, but it’s never expressed to be one

Word count: 1310

Remus was a good man, it was such a shame you couldn’t match his upbeat energy when you entered the door to your shared apartment.

He had heard the front door click open, which sparked a smile on his face. He never wanted to stop your outings with friends, as he knew having relationships with people other than your partner was important— his own friends the truest testament to that statement— yet he couldn’t help but miss you when the house was left without your presence. Which is why he was pleasantly surprised by your early arrival home, no waiting up late for his nightly cuddle tonight, no, rather a nice long cuddle with a movie in the background.

He called out to you as he stood from the couch, scrambling to make his way to the foyer, “you’re home early, darling, how was your day out?”

He stopped in his tracks when he saw you. Your frame stiff, eyes glued to the floor, clearly shined over with tears that have yet to be shed, keys still clutched in your hand, likely because you’d been too distraught to even reach up to put them on the key hook.

“Oh, sweet dear, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” His worried words and the safe environment he had provided made the tears finally fall. In an instant, he was in front of you, wrapping you in his arms. A pained sob ripped its way through your chest, you’d been holding it in far too long.

“My friends…” you began, having a hard time composing yourself to even say what was wrong.

Remus had a hunch what the problem was. He didn’t like your friends for a very specific reason, but he had always stayed firm in the fact that you were the judge in who you were friends with and it was really none of his business who you did and didn’t hang around. He knows he would not listen if you had said you didn’t want him spending time with his friends.

“I- I just… I’ve been really anxious this week,” You started to talk with the shakiest of voices. Remus could tell from the way your breaths started cutting you off that you were beginning to hyperventilate. He didn’t want to stop you from talking it out, though, so he led you to come and sit down beside him where he’d been on the couch before allowing you to continue.

“And irritable— and- and- and you know how I- how I spiral when I’m irritable, because- because I just think such mean thoughts, and- and I just hate myself,” your stutter only got worse the more you revealed, because speaking about it made you think about it, and thinking about it made breathing harder. Not to mention the sniffling you had to do every five seconds so you wouldn’t cover your upper lip in snot.

Remus held your hand, rubbing soothing circles overtop your knuckles and keeping his own breathing as steady as possible in hopes that you would eventually sync up. His free hand moved its way to your back, rubbing up and down.

“I just thought,” you sniffled, futility wiping your face with your sleeve as you continued to cry, “that maybe I’d f-feel- feel better if I went out with- with my friends but..” your lungs seized and your voice came out strained and cracked, “but no.”

You wanted to keep your breathing steady for Remus, but it proved impossible. Your diaphragm seemed to have a mind of its own as it contacted with no care whatsoever of your say so.

“They just kept- kept making that stupid joke,” your voice was drowned in a visceral sadness and a defeated anger, making evident to Remus how you’d held off on sharing your feelings for far too long.

He knew well what joke you were talking about. It never sat right with him, made him clench his fists every time he heard it. It took everything in him not to blow up on your poor excuse of a friend group. He’d played the diplomat with your friends as long as he possibly could.

“Where they-“ sniff. “Pretend that-“ sniff. “They hate me- but- but-“ sniff. “But they get away- get away with it because-“ sniff. “Because I’m such a pushover and- and I never call them ou- out on it.”

Another sob wracked your whole body, Remus pulled you into him, your cheek pressed to his chest as he made a valiant effort to calm you down with his soothing touches.

“I know- I know that I’m a lot-“ sob. “But I- I’m kind. I- I treat th-them good so- so why d-don’t I deserve the same?”

Remus felt his heart drop, holding you steady through what felt like, to you, endless sobbing. He had always thought that you deserved so much more than the friends you made, but he just thought you had a really thick skin towards the subject. Everyone has a breaking point, he supposed, and for his sweet girl, this seemed to be it.

“Oh dove,” he cooed, “of course you deserve better. You are not ‘a lot,’ you are true to yourself, if they don’t understand that then that is their problem. You do so much just for them to be so ungrateful.”

You buried yourself further into him, holding onto him tightly as though he were a buoy in a storm. You sat for a while like that, until you could speak without stuttering as much— still, your quiet voice hardly carried and the heartbroken rasp in it was a sound unlike any heartache Remus had ever experienced “I wish I could control myself sometimes. Just- just make myself shut up once in a while.”

Remus scoffed, “I don’t.”

You looked up at him through heavy lashes, “really?”

You looked as if even a small gust of wind would make you shatter, yet Remus would guard you from it all, wind, or storm, or even shitty friends who don’t appreciate you.

“Of course not, sweetheart, I love how genuine you are. It’s what made me fall for you. That, and how hard you love. I’ve never doubted myself for a second when I’ve been around you.” He brushed some stray hairs from your face, “I have never been able to stand your friends, they aren’t as kind to you as you are to them.”

You nodded. He knew that it would take a while before you fully believed it, but he was willing to shower you in love every day until you believed it. In fact, he was already planning on integrating you into his own friend group, James and Sirius adored you and he had no doubt they’d love the idea. Lily, Marlene, and Mary would all love you too, he knew for a fact that girls nights with them had to be more fun than with your old friends.

For now, though, he’d settle for the calm you’d finally achieved after talking your way through such an intense wave of emotions, he was proud.

“What do you say we go back to our room, have a cuddle, and watch your favorite movie?”

“Yeah,” you mumble.

“Yeah?”

You nod and repeat yourself as he cracks a grin.

You walk hip to hip to your bedroom until you’re finally able to sink into your bed. Remus hands you the tv remote before disappearing into the bathroom, returning with a soft, wet rag covered in makeup remover. Your cheeks seem to tingle as you remember the mess of mascara that must currently paint them, Remus doesn’t hesitate to come wipe you clean. When he’s done, he tosses the rag and leaves a chaste kiss on your nose.

“There,” he mutters, lying beside you and pulling you into his arms, “this is much better, isn’t it?”

[bettysupremacy]

hiii!! first of all I ADORE your theme💋

aaand I was thinking ab james potter w a southern reader! like any scene,just reader being southern asfff accent n all w james.preferably flirty friends🌝

have a good day/night babes!! dw ab writing this if u don’t wannaa💕!!

Flirty friends with jamie🙏🏻 cw: a lil suggestive

“Look who we have here.”

James whoops and whistles as you walk out of your small home. The grass crunches underneath you, louder than in the daylight. You look behind you cautiously. It’s nice being out of the four walls that make up your room.

“Shhh.” You giggle, letting him scoop you into a hug.

“Daddy let you off the farm?” James teases.

“No,” You muffle into him giggly. “and you know I don’t live on a farm.”

“C’mon, farm girl!” Sirius whoops from the car. “Hurry!”

James laughs loudly, pulling back. “He’s kidding.”

“Shhh.” You stress, eyes darting between the two boys. He’s got on a cowboy hat he found at a gift shop. He looks silly.

“Yeah, mate! Shut the f-“

“James,” Your hands fly to his mouth as he holds you. “Are you insane? You know my momma would have an aneurism if she saw me out here.”

Your accent tickles him. He laughs, the boyish music notes slipping through your tight fingers. “C’mon.” He muffles, pulling your hand from his mouth.

Your fingers twine with his, letting him coral you to the car. “I am not a farmer girl.”

“We know.”

Lily smiles as bright as her hair. “Cutest farmer girl I ever would’ve seen though.”

You hold your hand out to her graciously, smiling as James helps you into the car, and subsequently, onto his lap. Remus driving, Sirius shotgun, Mary, Marlene, and Lily in the back. Lily sits on Mary’s lap, and you sit on James’. It’s cosy, but tight.

“I agree.” James murmurs into your ear lowly, grinning when you shiver.

You’re more than friends, but any title higher doesn’t fit. Situationship, Marls had called it. She tugs at your dress now.

“Cute.”

It’s a simple white thing, james heavy carhartt jacket draped over it warmly. He’d lent it to you a week ago at the state fair, though you’d never gotten around to returning it. It was warm, what could you say?

“Yeah,” James adds. “Cute jacket.”

You feel warmth flood into your cheeks even if they can’t see it. “Thank yo-“

“Are those boots? Those are so cute!” Mary gleams at you.

“My daddy got them for me last spring.” You shine. “You really like ‘em?”

She nods, inky curls bouncing around her ears. “The leatherwork is beautiful.”

James suffers with the lack of attention. “Aren’t my boots cute?”

You turn to face him. More attention from you than he was expecting. His cheeks tinge. “You’re not wearing any, baby.”

“I’m not?” It’s a lame attempt at flirting, he’ll admit, but he’s warm and flustered.

“No, but your hat is very handsome.” You knock it.

“Thank you,” he recovers. “You know what they say?”

“Hmm?” Your fingers tangle in his button down.

“Save a horse,” he grins, shushing the groaning car mates. “ride a cowboy.”

“James.” You laugh quietly, dropping to stick your face in his chest embarrassed. You’re sticky with embarrassment, though their disgust isn’t pointed to you.

“What!” He laughs to Sirius, eyeing him in the rearview.

“Awful.”

“But true.” Marls shrugs.

“But hey,” Remus starts after a particularly hard speed bump. “She already is.”

James laughs louder than before, your embarrassment rising with it. Though, everyone catches the smile fighting to play on your lips.

“Let’s play the quiet game.” You murmur.

Everyone laughs.

[solivagant242]

losing you pt. 2

remus lupin x f!reader

warnings: strong angst, losing a relationship, minor swearing (?)

pt. 1 pt. 3

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

__________________________________________

The phone rings, and Amberly scurries over to the kitchen counter to pick it up and thumb it open, a smile spreading over her face at the sight of the Pads caller ID. “Hey.” Her voice loses a bit of its tension and she settles down on the couch, resting her sock feet on the side. “How’s it going?”

A thud, a crash, and a muffled swear, followed by a sound comparable to a Niffler set loose in a junk shop. Sirius’ voice, slightly breathless, puffs into the speaker. “Amberly. Do you by any chance have some old shirts you don’t need anymore?”

Amberly smiles. “Emphasis on the don’t need anymore, please. I don’t want you coming through and taking my tea towels for that motorbike.”

“They were stained,” he protests valiantly. “And I can’t help it, Minerva needs a good shine to her”-

Amberly nearly spits out her tea. “You named your motorbike after Professor McGonagall?”

“Well, yes! Someone’s got to be her namesake, after all. Either that or you and Moony have got to get busy- Harry’s the only nephew now, we don’t want him to be lonely.”

She laughs, even as a tiny bit of sadness seeps into her bones to form a soft mush of tiredness. “I don’t think that’ll be happening anytime soon, Pads.”

“What do you mean- OW!” Sirius yelps, attention mercifully diverted. “The oil was warmer than I thought.”

“Clearly. Want me to bring you some cookies?” Amberly stands, the blanket on her lap cascading to the floor. The prospect of escaping the dull malaise of the house, even if it’s just for a few hours, is vastly appealing. 

“If you can spare the time,” grunts Sirius. “Taking care of Minerva is a two-person job”-

“-because you need to be taken care of as well,” finished Amberly, amusement coloring her voice as she heads to the kitchen. “I’ll be over in an hour. Try not to die before then.”

Flour coats Amberly’s hands and face in light smudges as she hums to the lo-fi music she’s put on. She’s rolled up the sleeves to her jacket as she mixes a bowl of gooey batter, using her wand to tip a bag of chocolate chips into a measuring cup. 

The door creaks open and Amberly freezes, looking up in surprise. Remus has been asleep all day, asleep or curled up in the corner of the bed (how long has it been since we shared it?) and she’d been torn between hovering over him and just letting him sleep off his migraine. She’d finally decided on the latter after an attempt to bring him a hot-water bottle got her nothing but a mutter and a growl as he sank further into the covers. 

Remus swims into her vision, face ashy and pale. His eyes are red and dry, and his hair is even more mussed than usual. Even in the muted light of the kitchen, autumn sun trickling through the windowpanes, he’s squinting and rubbing at his eyes. Her heart twinges at the sight. She can’t remember the last time they went outside together, a walk or a picnic or anything at all. But that’s okay, right? This won't last, this won't last. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, voice sounding harsh. The lo-fi has paused for a moment between songs, and the kitchen feels like it’s being slowly drained of warmth.

“Making cookies?” answers Amberly timidly. “Sirius is working on his motorbike- I thought I’d bring some over for him.”

He snorts as he tugs a cabinet open. “Going over to his place again?”

Amberly feels tears well up in her throat, hot and heavy, strangling her voice. “What do you mean?”

Remus turns to face her, resting his hand on the counter, face lined and appearing dark in the watery light. “Come on. You do all this stuff for him and you’re just going to leave me here? By myself?”

She stares at him, at a loss for words.

There are a lot of things she wants to say.

He was my friend before I even met you.

What do you mean, going over to his place all the time? I haven’t been there once this past month because I’ve been here, trying to take care of you while you plainly don’t give a fuck!

I’m trying and trying to do this, and it doesn’t even matter. 

Do you not see that?

Do you not care?

But what she says instead, schooling her face and digging her nails into her palm to keep her voice steady, is, “Yes. We’re just going to hang out. Would you like to come”-

“Don’t even give me that,” hisses Remus, throwing his hands up in the air. “Why is it so goddamn hard for you to leave me alone sometimes? Every single second of every single day, you’ve got to be clinging around me! Can’t you see what I’m going through right now?”

His hand strikes something- the mug Amberly had her tea in- and it shoots sideways, flying into the sink. There’s a crash as it shatters, sending shards of ceramic and scalding tea spraying into the drainboard.

Amberly jumps, hands shaking. Tears are starting to well in her eyes, but she can still see into the sink. Can still see the broken pieces of the mug that she and Remus had painted for their one-year anniversary, the one time she’d smuggled him back home to visit a pottery place. The mug with the black and brown cat curled around each other, their tails forming a fluffy heart shape, containing A X R- Together Forever.

She stares at the mug, and then back at Remus.

But he’s already gone, storming back to his room. A second later the door slams, a heavy note of finality that grates in her ears like a funeral bell.

Amberly reaches into the sink just before tears begin to pour down her face. Her fingers graze the shattered pieces, searching for her part of the heart. Her initial, that foolish cursive A that had been so hopeful, so happy, and so, so loved, if only for a short time. 

Had been…

Another word picked up inside her head, repeating itself mindlessly, driving itself into numb oblivion. 

Clingy.

Clingy.

Clingy.

Amberly’s fingers find the broken heart, cleaved right down the middle between their initials. She wants to laugh, a bitter twist of her lungs, but all she can find are tears as the broken shard slices her soft skin, leaving liquid crimson to drip over the sink and kitchen tiles. 

[delicrieux]

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 2. summer 1972, august

pairing for this chapter—regulus black x f!lestrange!reader   warnings for this chapter—none! word count—2.3k

regulus can get quite mean in the sweltering summer heat.

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | ttp masterlist | < back | next >

the grandiose patio is lined with wet footprints. yours. and regulus’. the sunshine is too unkind to him – burnt easily, he seems even more miserable in summer. he’s not much fond of water, even if you constantly drag him into the depths of the pool. the chlorine reeks, he had said displeased, trying to swat away his wet hair from his eyes. you had fought, tooth and nail, not to state, you reek. it would’ve obviously been a joke, and sirius would have laughed so merrily at your boundless wit, but regulus would have flushed in embarrassment and confined himself to silence.

you don’t like much when regulus is silent. in fact, you don’t fancy silence at all. father’s silence usually entails bad news, and mother is always silent. your house is too big to retain any noise, and rodolphus is contemplative and rabastan doesn’t take up enough space. with bella here, perhaps things will become more rowdy.

already, she’s turning everything upside down in what she has dubbed ‘the great upheaval.’ the new lady lestange has expensive taste and moody preferences, and so the walls are getting painted, and all sorts of curious trophies and relics from the depths of gringotts are being brought as decorations. she had let you practice explosive magic to knock down a bookcase she believed to be misplaced. you had been very thrilled to help.

now, though, the pleasant buzz of nature is satisfactory. the gardens and the orchard have remained untouched, though the greenhouse has been smashed completely. the remnants of glass glimmer on the sun-sparkled grass, a perfect spot to avoid as the pool beckons your return. not that mother's menagerie had been of much interest to anyone for years. the servants had tended to it, but it remained vacant of visitors, except the rare moments rabastan felt particularly sentimental. all those exotic butterflies spilled into the crisp, open air. it was quite magical. regulus was particularly down that evening.

of course, bella hadn't given much faff for any of it, so you don't dwell. a morning in the sun is a morning in the sun, after all. and, surely, if mother isn't to care for her property, then why should you?

"you recon sister will hire more staff?" you muse aloud. regulus has languidly settled under an olive tree, the leaves framing the thin, half-naked body like an all-too-pale depiction of pieta. his head hangs, the burn-warmed skin glowing, "without me to help she’ll hardly be able to manage all of these household duties."

regulus raises a brow at that, "what have you done exactly to help," the way he says it is half-chiding, half-mocking. as though he thinks that's the way to speak to the owner of the manor, "you blow up bookshelves."

you turn away from his stare, and keep yourself upright against the pool, knees scraping against the pebbles.

"well," you reply with a sniff, "if you had not noticed, she has taken a shine to me."

"shines are used for small jewels."

you hit his leg in a mindless display of violence.

his sharp inhale isn't playful – "what was that for?!"

"that was for talking down to me." you scoff. and his cheeks grow red, but not because you caught him in his error.

his next response is bitter. "i see how it is," the pitch of his voice rising ever-so-slightly, a subtle crack in a violin string, "you grow more pompous every day."

with his legs folded under his chin, arms crossed tightly, his discomfort in his position isn't masked as well as his emotion is. his wide eyes belie an even wider sadness. a hunger, a wanting for the type of affection a mother provides. something you'll never want to think too hard on because you understand, but also have been told by father not to ponder on.

"was that you attempting to speak down to me again?"

"no!" he snaps back, before muttering, "not that you wouldn't deserve it."

your temper has spiked. that isn't fair, what did he know of all that you must put up with! father expects a lot, and yet you are not given enough to do, but your brothers still complain at everything, and then you must put on a smiling face in front of bella, and how rude is he, really, to disrespect you so!

regulus doesn't receive a single hint of a reply from you. if his plan to make you more malleable to conversation wasn't working, he could start something of his own.

"have you made up your mind," the subject switch makes you jump, "about what house?"

oh. he hasn't stopped prodding since the end of june. that's almost cute of him.

"why are you obsessed about this?"

regulus makes a face. "don't try to understand. i just am," he pauses. for once, he regards you carefully, head tilting slightly to one side, "so you have made up your mind."

"slytherin sounds lovely," you admit, as you have been practising this speech in the mirror for a fortnight now. it feels more real coming out of your own mouth and not an apparition's. you could never admit to gryffindor, as your secret would unravel. regulus would spot his brother’s influence, and he would know, with certainty, that you prefer sirius to him. he must know already, but chooses to ignore it, like you chose to ignore all things inconvenient.

regulus stills for a moment. "wonderful," he comments, and resumes the snootiness of his demeanour, but more distant, "i'll definitely be in slytherin,"

yes, clearly, he would suit the snake very well. and he would fit in, like cissy. no matter the apparent fragility to him, it seems to be hiding a will stronger than all of yours combined. his eyes glitter and gleam when the sunlight hits them just right, but their core seems deeper, darker. no cracks or fissures. just an endlessness.

"and so would you," he finishes the sentiment.

"wh- whatever do you mean?!" you cry in his face, startled out of the depths of your musings.

"dear cousin," he simpers, "for how much time must your father spend pontificating on how utterly useless you are before you realise i'm in your same boat."

he may not mean it, but the insult is unbearable. and perhaps there's a sliver of truth that irks you. that your own kin think so lowly of your abilities. but, nonetheless, "behind my back, at least," you sound, "please, regulus, don't say such things to my face!"

he snorts, faintly amused at your ridiculousness, "will it make you feel better if i apologise?"

you huff. your pride has been bruised. he has, as always, thrown you into a sulk, which will be harder and harder to get over now. especially with you sitting a little more self-conscious than you had been ten minutes ago. and really, it had been such a pleasant afternoon. sweltering, and you bask in sunlight like you're famished for it. the rivera had been sweet, always bright and sunny, but england is hardly ever not gloomy. yes, the weather is worth more mental effort than regulus black, you decide. you would rather converse with a house-elf than him. he, yes, is useless, but you have some use, surely.

"think before you speak," you warn, not very menacingly, "honestly, if my life is already doomed, you'll not aid in ruining it any further."

"what life? father dotes on you endlessly. even if you've got not a single brain cell, he still fancies you," he drawls, "really, you're like a pet. a mooncalf. not a thought behind those eyes."

there it is. the nerve that tics. and though he'd spoken in a lazy, pensive drawl, your response is razor-edged and dagger-thorned. you're the blight. the aphids that sully. the plagues of locusts, “so what!" you counter, and you're barely standing on the border, "what is it my trouble? at least my father loves me, which is too much to say of your own."

regulus rises sharply. it is the fastest he's ever moved in all his life. that face would strike a serpent cold, you imagine. "take. that. back." his tone is chillingly even.

but a quick wit has always served you best, "no. not till you're nice to me."

"fine," the sun casts an angry, dark shadow of his figure over the pool. only eleven, yet he might be the most daunting creature you've ever encountered. all long lines, jutting ribs, and pale skin. and those eyes. downturned, forlorn. a regal hazel. the lids are flutter-thick.

the silence that settles is thick with discomfort. you think of your mother’s room at the top floor, how hot she must be with the heavy curtains drawn. it would be good to air it, lest she grows sicker from breathing in all of that old dust. yes, you shall let a servant know as soon as you finish chipping away at regulus’ resolve with your withering glare.

finally, slowly, carefully, "you won't tell mother i upset you, will you?"

"aunt walburga has much to preoccupy her. of course i won't."

he takes this as enough an acquiescence.

you find a part of him has softened. the edges, maybe.

"why should i apologise anyway," he adds, as if by way of an attempt at conversing in your manner, "the truth needs no apology."

his voice, not that of his father's but certainly not the poshest, has something odd about it.

he waits for a few more seconds, in what you gather, is a wait for an excuse to take the blow off of himself. you keep thinking, and these thoughts blunder quickly about. of mother’s room and father’s study, of rabby down in the cellar, of rodolphus prancing around his new wife. of sirius locked in his guest room, all of his muggle trinkets confiscated. sirius would have a laugh if he wasn’t too busy sulking. this impish row would cheer him up.

you've accepted the role now. it feels like a coronation. the signet ring would fit. pretty thing.

"regulus," you start, but can't keep your straight face. his stare bores into you, until the laugh finally escapes.

"you twit!" he accuses you, "i thought you were really angry for a moment! good thing i wouldn't actually worry, with how loose tongued you are. and stupid! to think, everyone always bellows about how pleasant and intelligent you are."

"could hardly be talking of me," you say, feeling not very bitter, but the taste of it is tart on the back of your tongue. this is a new pattern. a childish bickering, or even teasing, "i've never wanted to know anything. everyone else is terribly inquisitive."

regulus just eyes you in bewilderment. as though your view on the world is rather strange. regulus is fond of reading, and he has a plethora of curious facts to share to anyone who would listen. he had been more vocal of them when he was younger, but at eleven, he's growing very reserved and respectable.

to anyone but you, it seems, because he's rude and standoffish in your presence, even if his cheeks start to burn when you catch him staring at you. maybe you should've let him know. it'd be sweet to see his eyes widen in surprise, or his lips purse. that'd be worth all his rude jokes and unwarranted insults. his silence has allowed him to believe that all his sentiments are harmless. but they are not.

perhaps you are useless, not even a little bit useful at all, if a mere boy who's still gangly and graceless has you wound around his little finger, while not even knowing it. you can't decide if that's better or worse than knowing. it doesn't really matter anyway. when the family meetings took place late in the evening, and you were pointedly dismissed, you had decided you shan't ever want to know anything. to live in simple bliss of a fantasy, to enjoy what you're good at enjoying, and never touch the dirt of any of their messy problems. the end of childhood doesn't concern you, no more than any of the scandals you overhear and promptly ignore. gossip you adore, but only if it's mindless, like a poor matching colour of a robe.

the rest you are well off without.

pretty thing, mother had once called you when awake. her gaze had been vacant. you refused to decipher the meaning, if there was any to begin with. pretty things needn’t be sensible, they only need to be admired.

regulus offers you his hand. a rarity, him touching you, because he rarely is one for contact. especially with you, it had seemed. the small, slim fingers don’t tremble in their wait, "want to swim?"

your earlier mood melts away like the heat waves over the warm stone. the blood has flushed both your skins, but his more.

it's not important anyway.

"thought you don't like water," you say smugly, happy to lord over this very basic information you know of him over his head, "you'll look like a prune."

regulus wrinkles his nose in distaste at the idea. his pale complexion is so easy to scorch and scar. the redness blooms on him beautifully.

but then, all he says is, "you're my favourite, you know that, right? always have been."

the pleasantry, in such an instant, brings another surge of blood to your cheeks.

"why?" you have to know.

a shrug, then, a smile. not malicious at all, and you've always enjoyed it when he can't hold the pretences up in your company.

"dunno," and his expression goes blank again. his gaze roams somewhere far, "so do you want to go swimming?"

his offer has something more, and the confusion lingers.

"it is very hot," is all you find to say.

and what else, but to hold onto his outstretched palm?

[moonysreid]

we need a remus x fem reader drabble right this second 🌻 maybe some grumpy sunshine shit

intoxicated (remus lupin x f!reader)

🌻 200 word drabble for the celly

wasn’t as grumpy x sunshine as i woulda liked but still enjoy

it was quite easy for remus to ignore the racket that came with james and sirius but today there was just something so distracting about sitting in the gryffindor common room

"are you wearing a new perfume?" remus asked lily in his usual gruff voice, a tinge of irritation shining through from not being able to concentrate on his homework

it wasn't a scent that he was familiar with, and due to his 'condition' he had become accustomed to all of his friends’ usual fragrances

the scent wasn't bad, no, but he found it intoxicating and rather strong in smell

"..i'm wearing my-" the redhead went to respond when a soft 'hmph' was heard and you were seen fleeing your previous spot on the floor

sirius and james' arm wrestle had progressed into full-blown wrestling - which was both usual and expected but, still, it disrupted your studying

as you got closer to the sofa, remus and lily were sitting at, remus found the source of his distraction - the smell surrounded you like a bubble

“my bets are on james this time!” your voice came out in its usual cheery tone as you dropped into the empty space beside the brunet and nuzzled into his side to steal some of his warmth

he was honestly intoxicated with you

[starlittragedies]

i, first and foremost, do love the protective!sirius headcanon when he finds out about jegulus and freaks the f out and has the instinct to physically strangle james for “defiling” his baby brother.

but may i introduce to you protective!sirius that feels only utter joy and relief when he finds out that jegulus are together.

sirius who is happy for both his brothers (by blood and by choice) as he knows that they balance each other out.

he finds relief in the fact that regulus has someone as warm and bright as the sun in the form of james who brightens up his brother’s day, who takes care of his brother in ways he couldn’t (or in ways that regulus doesn’t permit him to), who makes sure that he is always okay as he tends to be the one who just bottles up everything and resents everyone in the end.

he finds relief in the fact that james has regulus, a star who shines brightly to make sure the sun doesn’t burnout. he is glad that james had found someone who can take care of him as he takes care of everyone, someone who makes sure that he doesn’t rip at the seams trying to do everything for everybody, someone who completely balances him out.

[myysaints]

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐦𝐞 — r. lupin

REMUS LUPIN x f!reader

⌗︙・ summary — months after graduating from hogwarts, you and the gang - remus, james, sirius, and lily - reunite for some drinks and a good time. but didn't you know? not-so-drunk words are still sober thoughts...

based on — “Please, stop smiling at me like that. I’m not sure what will happen if you keep doing that.” (dm for creds! i forgot sorry)

contains — pining!!!, remus and reader are blind to each other's affection, siri and james are drunk in the bg lol, awkwardness, fluff ending

notes — i love remus with all my heart. i missed writing for him sm!

“MY MONEY’S ON Potter,” you grin, watching as James drunkenly leans against Lily’s shoulder, his fingers dancing across her palms. The redhead gazes down at him fondly.

“Well, I personally think it’ll be Padfoot.”

From across the table, Remus smiles, head lowered to meet yours, a conniving smile on his face. You raise an eyebrow, failing to force down a grin.

“Sirius? Really? The man can hold his rum, you of all people should know that, Remus.”

He shrugs, smiling and leaning back against his seat. His arm raises to take a swig of his Butterbeer, and you watch, mildly transfixed, as the muscles in his shoulders ripple.

“Still. He’s got a weak stomach, the idiot; For all the alcohol he drinks, he seems to spew out three times the amount.”

Remus tilts his head back, a flushed smile on his face. Your heart stumbles a little.

“He’ll be the first to the bathroom, I assure you.”

The comment has you snapping out of your daze, and you laugh breathily, shaking your head as you turn to watch Sirius dance - rather, stumble - to the music playing.

“Betting on which of our friends throws up first.” You smirk, taking a sip of your own drink. “‘S this what our friendship’s come to, Remmy?”

It’s a Friday night, and the group - you, Lily, the Marauders - are at your local pub. It’s a much needed break away from the tedious chore of adult life; You’re just a few months shy from a year out of Hogwarts, and you’d be lying if you said things haven’t been tough.

“Well then,” Remus says, grabbing your hand. There’s a pink flush on his face that tells you he’s a swig away from tipsy. And he does usually get touchy as the night progresses. “Tell me. How’ve you been, love?”

Your cheeks immediately heat, and you swat your hand away with a playful scoff.

“Told ‘ya to stop calling me that,” you murmur, suddenly feeling immensely shy. You’ve never done well with being alone with Remus; Being the only object of his attention has your stomach erupting into butterflies and tingles and all that.

Love.

He merely grins, chuckling. “Sorry, sorry. You know how cute y’get when you’re angry.”

Remus would never admit it aloud, the embarrassment alone would kill him, but the way your cheeks flame, the way you immediately duck your head, a shy smile peeking through: It makes him proud that he’s the source of your reaction.

9 months away from you, and you still manage to make him feel as giddily in love as he was when you first met.

Hogwarts that day was particularly lonely for Remus; The rest of the Marauders were off doing Merlin knows what, most likely formulating some ragtag plot to prank one of the professors again. Remus, on the other hand, had homework to do - Unlike some people, he liked to make a conscious effort not to get expelled.

So there he was, alone in the library, surrounded by books. Really, it was all he needed, all he should have needed. But as he watched a nearby couple giggle at each other over a stack of books, he suddenly felt a pang of loneliness.

Of heartache.

“Erm, ‘scuse me.”

Remus started, glancing up. And there you were.

Standing before him under the faint shine of a lamp, glowing like the angel you were. A soft smile gracing your features, head tilted to the side.

He finds himself suddenly at a loss for words, stumbling over himself as he stutters out, “I- Yes, er - pardon the mess - can I help you?”

You chuckle, and Remus wracks his brain trying to think what on Earth was so funny. But you just give another small smile that sends his heart racing, and gesture towards the seat beside him.

“Is this seat taken?” you whisper.

Immediately, as if on its own accord, his head is shaking. Fervently.

It’s almost embarrassing, really, how eager Remus is. He is acutely aware of just how uncontrollably forward he’s being - His hands have instinctively drawn up a chair for you, and they’re now clearing a space for you.

You flash him a smile - brilliant, dazzling - and he swears he’s died and gone to heaven.

Trying to recover some semblance of politeness, he returns back to his books while you set up your things, but, oh.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots you pull out a beaten up copy of what just happens to be his favourite book.

Feeling his gaze on you, you flush, looking up to catch his eye.

This sends him in a tizzy, a flustered mess. But you don’t seem to mind, even quirking up your lips into an amused smile.

“Is there something on my face?” you muse, teasing.

Heat sears through his cheeks, his face red. “No! I just… I was admiring your book,” he gestures wildly to said book.

“This old thing?” you raise a brow, shrugging. You turn to him, a gleam in your eye. “Why, have you read it?”

A smile breaks across Remus’s face, and it tells you everything you need to know.

You two are going to get along just fine.

A sudden realisation hits you, in this moment, seated across from Remus in this dingy bar.

Time is not on your side. Truthfully, it never really was; But now, it is your greatest adversary. Gone are the opportunities to catch him momentarily in the Hogwarts corridors. Your shared peaceful study sessions are no more. Both of you have busy schedules, and catch-ups are sparse.

You fear you may lose him forever.

“I missed you, y’know that, right, love?”

You raise your head, surprised to find a sudden tenderness in Remus’ gaze.

Something in your voice breaks as you say, quietly, “Really?”

And Remus feels it in his heart too - The slight crack that wedges in his chest, the feeble cry of your name that bubbles up in his throat. He coughs, face aflame, and brushes past it.

“Yeah. Mean, ‘course I did. Missed all of ya - the guys and Lily and all that.”

Your heart sinks. Of course. He doesn’t miss you in particular - It was foolish of you to think, even for a second, that you’d be special in his eyes.

Years and years of pining, days spent trying to talk yourself out of this silly crush, nights ranting to Lily about how “stupid this is! This is just so stupid!”. All that, and for what?

You nod tersely. A silence lapses between you two, the tension so thick it feels as if you’re suffocating under the weight of it.

Remus frowns at the way you sit stiffly, strangely stoic and quiet opposite him. The look in your eyes - just moments ago, alight with glee and mirth - has deflated into something sullen. Defeated.

“Hey,” he reaches towards you. You look down at his hand - familiar and comforting - stretched towards you over the table. His thumb skims over your knuckles, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. But you don’t dare to look back up at him.

“What’s the matter? You’ve gone all quiet,” he says worriedly.

You shake your head, tersely.

A hand reaches to tilt your head up; You swat it away, harmlessly, but can’t stop the slight smile that breaks across your face at the ticklish feeling.

He grins, and now his head tilts to the side, observing you as you try to recompose your face. Again, he reaches out to touch you - this time, a bop on the nose.

“Remus,” you huff, unable to stop the slight chuckle that escapes you. “What in the name of Merlin are you doing?”

The smile on his face, so warm and true, makes you stop.

“Jus’ wanted to see you smile,” he grazes a thumb over your cheek, and you feel clammy all over.

“Stop that,” you murmur, still, not pulling away.

A playful grin makes its way across Remus’s face. He leans over - the tall bastard - and cups your face. His hands are warm against your skin, and you pray they hide the sudden heat that rushes to your cheeks.

“Please, stop smiling at me like that. I’m not sure what will happen if you keep doing that,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut.

There’s a shuffling noise, and Remus’s hands are retracting. You keep your eyes screwed tightly shut, feeling your own resolve crumbling as you feel a warm body press against your side.

“Love,” Remus whispers, his breath hot on the side of your neck. A shudder ripples through your body.

You shake your head, eyes still shut.

“Love,” he says again, slower, softer this time. “Can I… Can I kiss you?”

Your heart stops.

When you open your eyes, your breath hitches - You’re so close, so unbearably close to the lycanthrope it makes your heart burn. You blink rapidly, trying your best to look anywhere, anywhere, except into his eyes.

The slightest smirk makes its way across his face, and then his fingers are on your chin, gently manoeuvring your head around to face his.

All you can manage is a breathless, “Oh.”

He laughs, loud, hearty. And then a soft blush settles across his cheeks.

“Oh.”

You stay like this for a moment longer, the two of you; Remus’s fingers resting lightly on your face, you blushing madly. Entangled in each other’s existence.

He's the first to break the silence: “Are you gonna let me kiss you, love?”

This time, you can’t stop the smile on your face.

But the one on his face when you kiss him is a thousand times better.

[silentsneezes]

thinking about a chronic stifler /finally/ sneezing unrestrained around their partner because they trust them enough

This as a Remus (wolfstar) fanfic?

i actually had remus in mind when i posted that lol, so i loved getting this request! thank you anon :)

here’s a little 600 word wolfstar drabble, i hopw you enjoy!

As the morning sunrise shines through the window, Remus Lupin stirs, his eyes fluttering open as he lays beside his husband Sirius Black. Their bedroom is a cozy nook, their presence felt in every corner with books and clothes strewn about. Remus’s eyes are heavy with fatigue, but his body wills him awake as his nose twitches. He pulls the covers around him, staying tucked against Sirius as he braces himself for an inevitable sneezing fit.

The days leading up to the full moon always start like this: he wakes with a persistent itch in his nose and eventually succumbs to a sneezing fit- an annoying, but relatively tame side effect of his lycanthropy. Remus rubs the bridge of his nose, trying to hold back quiet, hitching breaths building in his chest. He pinches his nose shut in a futile effort not to wake Sirius, who’s always been a light sleeper. His shoulders shudder as he stifles three sneezes with practiced silence. He feels Sirius stir at the movement, but he’s too busy stifling another torrent of sneezes to care.

“h’ngsxh! hh’gx’t! hh… hngxt!”

“Bless you love,” Sirius murmurs, shifting and looking at Remus with a knowing smile as he acknowledges the inevitable. "Ah, the early morning sneezes," he teases lightly, his voice laced with sleep. "Just nature's way of reminding us that even werewolves are not immune to the joys of spring."

Sirius wraps an arm around Remus’s waist, pulling him closer and feeling a rush of affection for his husband as he notices Remus’s blush.

“Sorry to- ngk! n’xch! to wake you.” Remus is interrupted by two quick stifles, pressing his pointer finger to the base of his nose in an effort to silence them.

“Bless, I don’t mind love.” Sirius yawns, burying his face in Remus’s neck and closing his eyes sleepily. He can feel as Remus’s breath starts hitching again, his chest rising and falling with quick, dramatic gasps. Remus surrenders to the overwhelming itch, pulling his shirt collar over his nose and muffling a series of rapid sneezes against the fabric.

“hh’tSHh- hm’DTSChu! hih- hidT’SHHh! ‘idtHhiew- hTSchh!”

Sirius feels an odd sense of pride at hearing Remus’s unstifled sneezes, even if they were muffled against his shirt. For years, even after relentless teasing, Remus had only ever stifled his sneezes around Sirius, as he did with everyone else. But eventually, Remus started letting sneezes out occasionally as he became more comfortable around Sirius.

It’s an admittedly small change, sure, but Sirius considers it a success. He enjoys being the only person to ever hear Remus Lupin sneeze, as silly as that sounds. It was a sign of Remus’s trust, an admittance of vulnerability reserved solely for his husband.

“Bless you love”

“Tha-hh-hhtSHhew! Thanks”

Sirius rubs Remus’s back gently as his breath starts hitching again, stuck in a cycle of sneezing and hitching. He brushes Remus’s hair out of his eyes, sitting up in bed and wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist.

“Poor thing,” Sirius murmurs quietly, holding Remus comfortingly as he rides out the sneezing fit.

“hHMPtCH! hKSHhiew! hh-hehHDSCHew! F-heh-fuck… hhGN’knt! gX-tsch!”

Sirius grabs a handkerchief from the nightstand, pressing it into Remus’s hand and murmuring, “Bless you Rem.”

Remus gratefully accepts the handkerchief, giving his nose a little blow and leaning back against Sirius’s chest. Sirius runs his fingers through his husband’s hair gently, still half asleep as he holds Remus close.

After a few minutes and many soft “hhM’ptsch!”s muffled into the handkerchief, the fit dies out. Remus eventually drifts back to sleep as Sirius holds him, his nose temporarily giving him some relief.

any comments or tags are appreciated :)

i’m not super happy with how it turned out so i might rewrite it at some point /lh

[shadowbriar]

Remus Lupin - Kiss it off Me

Pairing : (F/M) || Remus Lupin x Reader Word Count : 3.3k Warning : Injuries. Angst.  Synopsis : Moving on from Remus seem to be impossible now that she knows the true reason behind his ever so egoistical refusal. Notes : No closure. Don’t come at me. Strikethrough on taglist means I couldn’t tag you. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕  Taglist : @mastermindmiko @420mitskilover @maylaysia109 @vi0letblu3s @imasimp48 @helloitsmeeeeeee @literallyforsmut0nly @judespoision​

↞ Off My Limit

Perhaps it was never love. The feeling she's harboured inside her heart all these years, perhaps it wasn't love. Perhaps it was something else that wasn't in her dictionary. A devotion so deep, desire so heavy, and admiration so big she would jump in front of a train had he asked her to, but still it wasn't love.

Because if she loved him, it would've been easy for her to accept his truth.

She wanted to hurt him, the same way he's hurt her. She wanted him to feel the pain and agony of waking up each morning, having to know that she'll see his face in the Great Hall, laughing and talking to his friends like nothing happened during the break. She wanted him to drown in the torment of pretending that everything was fine and that she wasn't walking on the shattered pieces of her heart. She wanted him to cry himself to sleep the way she has been doing these late nights. But in order to do that, he would have to love her like she loves him and she knew that he doesn't.

Yet as funny as it goes, no matter how hurt she is right now from his nonchalant gesture, she couldn't hate him still. She would still find her eyes glancing at him, unabashedly hoping that he would look in her direction like he always would. She would find herself looking for him in the library, though she knew he wouldn't be there anymore. She would slow her pace in the corridor as she walked to her next class, trying to savour every second passed where she could watch him from afar.

Now she’s staring into the back of his head, an unconscious smile tugged on her face as he watches him throw banters to Sirius, trying to suppress his laughter. He looks beautiful. The light of the sun makes his dirty blond hair shine lighter, strands falling on his face.

“Mr. Lupin, would you like to share with the class what is so funny?” Professor Slughorn asked, his brows knitted but no trace of anger was evident on his face. Only pure confusion.

“Nothing, Professor.” Remus answers, clearing his throat as his cheeks turn red in embarrassment “My apologies.”

“Oh, nothing to apologise for, my boy. Come! Help me identify these potions.”

And so the boy walks to the middle of the classroom, standing by the table where cauldrons of potions were placed in front of him. Eyes were trained on him now, making him feel the slightest pressure possible but she knows that it would be an easy task for him to identify these potions. Remus has always excelled in Potions, afterall.

“This one is Dawdle Draught, Professor.” Remus begins, pointing at the first cauldron “It helps wizards and witches trace the Calamity.”

Professor Slughorn nods, satisfied with his answer and urges him to continue.

“This is Manegro Potion, which gives the drinker a rapid hair growth.”

“Indeed, it does.” The Professor said “And what would the last potion be, Mr. Lupin?”

“Amortentia, Sir. The strongest love potion in the world.” Remus answers, gulping as he comes closer to it “It’s supposed to smell differently to each according to what attracts us.”

His eyes move to her direction, locking their gazes.

“For instance,” He continues, not breaking their eye contact “I can smell chocolate, dusty leaves of books, and.. The sweet perfume of a close friend of mine.”

The classroom started to talk, whispering to each other what scent they smell and who the close friend Remus was talking about. A hint of crimson colour starts to taint his cheeks as he realised the not so subtle confession he made to the classroom. Perhaps not many of them understood who he was referencing but his friends knew, along with the girl he’s staring right back at.

“Brilliant, Mr. Lupin. Ten points to Gryffindor!”

Remus smiled hesitantly to the Professor before finding his way back to his seat, not daring to glance at her again. He knew that he'd unwillingly pour all of their efforts to settle to the new space down the drain. The disapproving look on James’s face and the small pitiful smile Sirius sent him as he pats his shoulder became the very anchor that would drown him deeper into his despair tonight.

All these weeks of play pretend, acting like he wasn’t bothered by the reckless stunt he’s pulled on her, is starting to crumble. One of these days he’ll succumb to another round of heartbreak and it feels like it will come sooner than later.

—-

If there is anything that she hates most about herself right now it would be none other but the fact that she still, after all these weeks, finds herself back to the library, occupying the very spot she used to share with Remus. His seat has collected a sheer layer of dust, being vacant for too long. She has been able to stop her eyes from staring at the door, minimising the anticipation should the very loved boy return, but it is obvious that the flame of hope is still burning bright in her heart.

She knows where he seeks solace now, her friends have told her about how they would find Remus reading alone at the Astronomy Tower, but coming and finding him there feels like overstepping his boundaries and crossing him would be the very last thing she fancies.

“So how’s teaching the third years?” Pandora asks, whispering to not anger Madam Pince “Did you tutor the kids alone?”

Mary shakes her head, “No, Lupin was there.”

“Remus?” The broken hearted girl asks, now interested in the conversation “I didn’t know he tutors now.”

“He does, apparently. Perhaps an effort to get over his crush on you.”

“Come on now, Mary, he doesn’t have a crush on me.” She defends, rolling her eyes “We’ve established this long before the break starts.”

“Oh but he does.”

She shakes her head, looking back to her book.

“So how’s the tutoring?” Pandora asks again “Anything interesting happened?”

“No, nothing really.” Mary answers “But I did notice that Remus has quite a bit of a strange fear.”

She looks up from her book, raising an eyebrow, “How so?”

“Well, we were teaching the kids boggarts and when some kid were too afraid they couldn’t say the spell right, Remus stepped in and the boggart turned into the moon.”

Pandora frowns, “The moon?”

Mary nods, “Right? What could be so scary about the moon?”

Her eyes trail back to the book, trying to read the words yet her brain was too busy pondering about the new information. Indeed, what could be so scary about the moon? Someone so smart and content like Remus, fearing the moon? What could be so bad about the moon?

—-

Prefect duty has always brought Remus peace as he could wander around the castle in silence, not having to worry he’d bump into anyone and having to plaster the fake smile on his face. He enjoys walking through the corridors with the limited luminosity of his wand. It gives him time and space to think about all the problems he tries so hard to push away during the day.

Yet his delight would have to come to a fast end tonight as he spotted a light inside the library.

Sighing, Remus walks in quietly so as not to startle the rebel. He would have to walk this mischief back to their dormitory now.

“Dove?”

“Remus!” She yelped as her head quickly snapped to his direction “What are you doing here?”

He raised an eyebrow, “I should be the one asking you the question. It’s past curfew, you need to leave.”

“Right.”

Hastily, she collected her books away. Remus could catch a glimpse on one of the massive books in the stack: Fantastic Beasts and Magical Creatures of the Wizarding World. He couldn’t help but to frown. She doesn’t take Care of Magical Creatures class this semester, so why would she be reading such a book?

“I’ll return to my dorm now.”

“Wait,” Remus calls, making her halt her pace “I’ll walk you.”

She shakes her head violently, looking horrified at the offer, “No, you don’t have to.”

“I insist.” He says “It’s prefect duty afterall. I have to make sure you don’t wander around elsewhere.”

“Right,” She gulps, blinking as if she’s trying to process his words “Of course.”

Now the two of them walk in the empty hallways in silence. The sound of their steps echoing through, neither soul is brave enough to break the stillness. Yet either knows that their heads were going crazy, thousands of questions running in each of their minds. Both could feel like their hearts were leaping out of their chests, palms sweaty and fingertips cold from the tension. It was as if they were back to the Potter Manor.

Minus the alcohol, of course.

Remus’ head was about to explode. He swore he could cut through the tension between them with a knife. He glances at her every other second, wondering why she’s kept her head down and not having a glimpse of him at the slightest. Could it be that his not so elegant confession at Potion class the other day made things worse between them?

“We’re here.” He says as they reach her dormitory door “Look, I’m really sorry about the other day in Potion class. I really didn’t mean to make things worse or anything, it just slipped.”

Her eyebrows furrow, looking confused still, “Alright.”

“I just thought I should put it out there and set the things clear between us.” He continues, trying to ease the baffled look on her face “Anyway, Goodnight.”

And with that, Remus turns his heels.

“Remus,” She called, making him to face her again “I know what you are.”

Now it’s his turn to frown, tilting his head to the side as he tries to make sense of her words, “How do you mean?”

“I know why your boggart is the moon.” She says gently, unsure if the words she utters are the best she could come up with “The full moon.”

Colour drains from Remus' face. Lip slightly trembling as he tries to lick the bottom, an attempt to fix his composure. He shakes his head as he lets out a forced chuckle, pretending to not understand the message she's trying to convey. He opens his mouth, only to close it again in fear he might out himself instead. He waited for her to continue.

“I now understand why you’ve been taking your monthly sick passes.” She continues, her demeanour calm “They’re not because you ate the wrong food or some silly allergy you caught, are they?”

He clears his throat, still pretending to be oblivious, “I’m not following you.”

“I know why you always have a pack or two of chocolate in your pockets. They’re laced with some healing potion, aren’t they? That’s why they make you feel better? And no matter how dramatic Sirius or James or Peter begs for you to share them, you’d always say no because you know that you need them, you need your remedy.”

The air suddenly feels like they’re being sucked out of his lungs. The atmosphere turns hot, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead as his fingertips turn cold. Never in his entire life did he expect to have this conversation now. Sure he knew that one day or the other she would figure it out, the mask he’s been showing to everyone would eventually fall, yet he wasn’t aware that such a day would come right here right now.

“Is that why you refuse me?” She asks, her voice creaking “Because of your condition?”

He stares at her intently, this time with a much more defeated expression, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“I can’t be with you.” He heartbrokenly admits, tears beginning to well on his eyes “I’m a werewolf, is that what you wanted to hear? For me to admit myself?”

She remains quiet, mirroring his pained look.

“You’ve figured it out. You know my secret so now you’d understand why we couldn’t be together.”

She scoffs, a disbelieved smile tugging on her lips, “Don't think for a second that I'd turn the other cheek just because of that, Remus.”

“Just because of that?” He repeats, looking hurt “It's not just because, Love. I’ve lived my whole life in torture. There's not a single day where my bones don't break under my skin, not a single day where my joints don't ache whenever I do the slightest move. Do you know how hard it is for people like me to live? To function like normal people on the daily?”

“I didn't mean to undermine your situation, Rem. You know I didn't.” She quickly defends herself “I'm only angry and disappointed at you for hiding behind a reason that shouldn't even be a problem in the first place.”

Remus looks away, not having the strength to see her face.

“I love you.” She confessed with desperation evident in her tone “There, I said it. I love you, Remus John Lupin, with or without your condition.”

“No, no.” He says as he shakes his head “You don't know what you're talking about.”

“Don't I?” She chuckles bitterly “You think all these years tailing you around, making a fool of myself in front of others, was just my way of finding some fun?”

Remus bites his lip, frustrated at the situation they're entangled in.

“Why do you always belittle my feelings, Rem?”

“I'm doing this to protect you.” He whispers, expression filled with guilt “You'll have no future with me, you know that.”

“I don't care about-”

“Well, I care! I care about you and your future, alright!” Remus yells, his frustration getting the better of him “You have a bright future ahead. You're smart, you're beautiful, you're perfect. I'm not going to jeopardise your life just because of some silly puppy love you'll get over in a year or two.”

She remains quiet, staring at him intently in a way to understand his mind better. 

“I can't be with you.” Remus says with a quivering voice “Maybe if I love you a little less then I could be selfish and ask you to be mine, but I don't. I love you too much to drag you down with me.”

“Rem-”

“I have to go.”

With that, the boy runs away with tears flowing down his cheeks. With every step he took, the anger and hatred he bore inside his chest grew. Shouldn’t love make your life easier? Shouldn’t it colour your days and make you go forward with ease? Why is it that the love he hoards for her only makes him suffocate? How is it fair that the love he so tenderly nurtures in his heart only causes him scar and pain?

Just how cruel the universe is to him.

—-

When James came to her with a bloodied shirt, she knew that something was wrong. It was a full moon and bearing the knowledge of Remus’ condition made it impossible for her to sleep a wink. She paces back and forth in front of the Portrait of the Fat Lady, waiting if something happens and she could be of help, though she knew nothing of Lycanthropy and how to take care of it. Now that James found her with a worried look, she’s certain that something had happened.

Now walking fast to the Hospital Wings, she finds herself biting her nails in fear. James’ message for her was short, only that Remus had asked her to come. After their confrontation a fortnight ago, having him request her presence is something she’s grateful yet afraid of at the same time.

“Ah, bless the Heavens, my Dear! You’re just in time.” Madam Pomfrey says as she enters, handing her a basin with a towel “Would you please help clean Mr. Lupin’s wounds? I’ve given him some potion but I think he will need more than the usual tonight, I have to get it prepared.”

“I-” She stutters “What if I hurt him?”

The healer smiles, “He’s called for you, didn’t he? He trusts you, you wouldn’t hurt him.”

Turning her body to face Remus as the healer leaves, she takes a seat by his bedside and begins soaking the towel. Her eyes stare at the fresh bloodied wounds, dirt and small leaves still staining his skin. Remus must be in great pain right now.

She gently wiped his cheeks, trying to clean as much dirt and blood as she could without putting too much pressure on his new wounds. The scar cuts were long and deep, making her flinch just at the imagination of pain he’s suffering. And to think that he has to face this every month was beyond her.

Quiet sobs were escaping her lips. As much as she tries to keep quiet so as not to disturb his slumber, she couldn’t help but to cry looking at his condition. If only she could take just half of the amount of torment he’s been through.

“I look hideous, don’t I?” Remus asks with a hoarse voice, slowly opening his eyes.

She shakes her head, “I’m sorry, did I wake you? Did I put too much pressure on your wounds?”

“No, you’re doing just fine.” He says with a small smile “Just lovely.”

She smiles back, continuing to clean his wounds.

“I made you cry.” Remus comments “This is why I said we can’t be together, I’m a monster.”

“You think I cried because I’m scared of you?”

Remus remains quiet.

“Remus, I could never be afraid of you.” She says gently, putting away the basin and holding his hand tenderly now “I just- I can’t imagine all the pain you’ve been through all these years and just how blind I have been for not seeing it.”

“It’s not your fault, Dove. You couldn’t have known.” He says with a weak smile “But now you’ve seen me, in this state, in my most vulnerable and naked state, I hope you can understand where I’m from, why we can’t be together.”

“Rem-”

“Love, I’m bad news.” He cuts in with a defeated smile, the beads of tears on his lashes now threatening to fall “I’m no good for you, you know that. You deserve someone who could match your perfection, though I know no one in this entire universe would ever be deserving of you, at least there must be some bloke out there who’s better than me, someone more deserving than me.”

She remains quiet, her tears could no longer be held in now.

“If I could find a spell or make a potion that could erase your feelings for me, believe me I would do it. I’d do whatever it takes to undo this mess between us.”

“No, don’t say that, Rem, don’t.” She cries “Loving you is the greatest thing that has happened to me. Even with your bloody stubborn head right now, I wouldn’t change a thing about us. Nothing.”

He let out a small chuckle before wincing, “Don’t make me laugh, Love.”

“Promise me,” She whispered, interlocking their fingers as she looked down to his hand “That you won’t do anything to forget about you or to not love you anymore, Remus.”

“I promise.”

She smiles at him, watching him intently as she tries to record every little detail of his facial features in her brain. Even with his tired and bloodied face, he’s still the most beautiful person she’s ever laid eyes on. The way the strands of his dirty blond hair fall on his face, the long lashes he has, and the scar across his face that are the very evident of his bravery over the years would forever be something she worships. 

Gently, she caresses his cheek and whispers, “You know, if we kissed.. Just once, we could be happy.”

“I know,” Remus nods as he closes his eyes, trying to drown deeper into her touch “But I’m not ready to be completely destroyed by you.”

“One day, then?”

“One day.”

[autumnsup]

Prompt: Devotion

for @wolfstarmicrofic

Hopeless

“BUT. NOOOOW,” yowled James into his microphone, which was actually the forward-facing end of his Quidditch broomstick.

“Shut up,” said Sirius. He could feel himself blushing against the onslaught of song.

“There’s nooooo-where to hide, now that you’ve – “

“Shut UP,” he groaned, pushing himself sideways on the bench to get away from James, so that his Quidditch equipment tumbled to the floor. He leaned forward, elbows lining up with his knees, and took his head in his hands, feeling the silken shag of hair slipping between his fingers. “As funny as it might seem to you, I’m really going through it.”

James, halfway through his next gulp of air, paused. “Ah, mate.” He knelt and gathered the scattered equipment – knee pads, wrist and elbow guards, and, gingerly, a jockstrap – dumping it into Sirius’ kit bag before settling into place next to him on the bench. “Just because you’re out of your head over one of our very own, doesn’t mean I think any less of you.”

Sirius glanced around the locker room, which, fortunately, was deserted by now. “Keep your voice down, Prongs,” he said anyway. “I don’t exactly want the entire school knowing about my pash on Moony.”

James butted a shoulder into Sirius’. “I think it’s more than just a pash if you’ve been feeling it since second year.” He looped his arm around Sirius’ neck and gave him a resounding kiss to the top of his head. “And for what it’s worth, I actually think it’s cute.”

Sirius turned a haunted eye on him. “Cute? Try lying awake for an entire night while your mind circles over one adorable little thing you saw him do in Potions the other day while he thought no one was looking. Try going without food for a day because your stomach is so full of butterflies every time you see him that you feel like you might sick up. Try taking a bloody shower next to him, when all you can think about is whether your body is going to respond in embarrassing and friendship-shattering ways.” He huffed into his hair, which scattered and settled in a new configuration around his face. “Something needs to be said, I just don’t know how.”

Blinking at Sirius’ intensity – although really, he should’ve been used to it by now – James gave his shoulder a pat. “OK… Maybe you need to take a step back then, if you’re not ready yet.” He frowned and stared at the floor for a moment in concentration. “How about a letter? Have you tried writing him one?” When Sirius closed his eyes and shook his head, James pressed on. “You should. Not to send, necessarily, but just to get your feelings sorted out a bit. It worked for me, with Evans.”

Rolling his eyes, Sirius sat up and stretched out his legs. “Right. Because you and Evans are such a shining example of devotion.”

James shrugged. “I dunno. Even with her constant rejection, I feel like we’re developing a bond. Slowly, over time. Like those dripping things in a cave.”

Sirius stared at him with brows furrowed. “Oh. You mean like a stalagmite and a stalactite?”

James snapped his fingers at him and grinned. “Exactly. See, you and Moony are meant for each other, with the brains you’ve got.”

A glimmer of hope crossed Sirius’ face, but when he spoke, it was in dejected tones. “I’m hardly the brainy one, and it shows. Used to be that I could focus enough to study around him, but now…”

“You’re hopelessly devoted to him,” said James, still grinning. “Like it says in the song." His face transformed into pure delight. "That's what you should do - sing your feelings to him!"

It was a bold plan, yet Sirius, despite his inner turmoil, could see a curious logic to it. Just like there was a curious logic to the fact that out of all the school-themed Muggle musical records he might pick, James would fixate on one with the name of a hair product that dealt in themes of cliques and unrequited love.

But Sirius was feeling too far gone to take the piss out of him for it. “All right," he said, squaring his shoulders. "Let's do this."

Looking for more? This "microfic" is the first of three, and all three are posted on AO3!

[thepaintedlady00]

Burden

Chapter 8 | Chapter 10

Chapter 9: The Last Star

TW: angst, blood, violence, fire, character deaths, dark Daunt, badass Daunt, demons, mentions of Hell.

Soft fur filled your palms, warm and comforting as a snout pressed into your cheek. The creature the stone had brought to life was patient with you, waiting only until your sobs began to lessen to speak. “Why do you weep?”

You pulled away, marveling at the white fur and the twinkling of the creature’s blue eyes. “Because I am sad.”

“Why are you sad?”

“I thought I knew someone…” you answered. “But I didn’t.”

The white wolf let out a soft breath and set his head in your lap. “Is there anything I can do to make it hurt less?”

With a sad smile, you ran your fingers through his fur and breathed out the hate and anger that had consumed you. It would be cruel to cling to such things while your new companion held many questions. “Having you beside me lessens the pain immensely.”

He looked proud as he nuzzled into you. “What is your name?”

“Daunt,” you said, though even that name held the bitter, twisted anger of the Endless beings that gave it to you. “I am the lady of this realm.”

“What is my name?” He asked.

“What do you want it to be?”

The blue of the wolf’s eyes sparkled as he looked up at you. “I wish for my name to be something that will bring you joy.”

You scratched behind his ears. “That is generous of you, but your name should be yours. One you love.”

He sat up and watched you curiously. “If it brings you joy, it will be something I love.”

You thought for a long while as the wolf familiarized himself with the space, carefully using a blanket to cover the broken pieces of your furniture and trinkets you’d destroyed in your blind pain. As the creature moved, you couldn’t help but think his fur looked like light, brilliant, and white sparkling with every move he made. “What about Sirius?”

“Sirius,” he repeated with a soft noise. “What does it mean?”

“It’s the name of a star,” you answered. “The brightest star in the sky.”

The wolf hurried to one of the windows, looking out it and up, hoping to see the thing you spoke so fondly of. “I see nothing but trees and heavy fog.”

With a sigh, you moved to stand beside him. “Yes, sadly, the stars do not shine in our realm. Mist and thick tree branches block the sky from view.”

“How do you know of this star, then?”

“I have seen it in my travels to the human world,” you answered. “You will likely see it as well, should you wish to remain at my side.”

“Sirius,” he repeated. “I quite like it.”

You knelt down and lovingly stroked his fur. “Sirius it is, then. You will be the first star in The Forest.”

The months spent with Sirius at your side were bittersweet. Dream’s words still haunted you… the loss of whatever relationship you’d had with him stung like a stubborn wound, refusing to heal. What hurt more was the knowledge that The Dreaming was once again closed to you. All the friends you’d made over the years, all the things you’d once loved beyond the Gates of Horn and Ivory. You hadn’t returned, not even to the beaches, for fear that he would spit more vile words at you and bar you from even that small comfort in his realm. So you’d accomplished your function in The Waking World instead.

Sirius enjoyed the outings immensely. He found humans to be curious creatures and enjoyed studying them. His favorite nights were when you’d travel somewhere with tall buildings so he could gaze up at the night sky and find the star after which he’d been named. Both of you found great comfort in the simplicity of it. The dreamers seemed normal to you, though you never stuck around long enough to risk drawing Dream’s attention. Not even The Corinthian had come to find you… such only added to the sting of the wound.

You and your new companion grew close quickly. Sirius was innocent and curious, harboring a deep love of green things and the scaled serpents that found peace in your realm. The two of you would sit beside the lake, and he would chase the fish, sometimes diving into the water to retrieve a rock that had caught his eye from below. He healed the hole in your heart as much as a tiny creature could, and though you still felt a deep and lingering sorrow with the knowledge that you and he would be alone in this world, it was enough just to have him.

*

“Here in the Darkness.” 

The roots of The Great Tree hummed all around you as the voices of the dreamers faded. They grew quieter each passing day you lay beneath the tree of falling leaves and frail bark. Sirius never left your side, pressing small patches of moss that had not succumbed to the frost to the gaping wound in your chest, the wound left by The Corinthian’s blade. Your strength returned to you slowly, and even when you could finally stand on your feet again, you were weakened. The Forest, too, grew weak. While you appeared to be recovering, the wood around you remained shrouded in darkness and falling snow.

“Here in the Darkness.” The disembodied words floated through the trees, a lingering stain of dark magic left by whoever had captured Dream of the Endless. Dream. All thoughts of him were bitter and filled with regret and hate, and pain. You had failed him again. Failed him and proved to the world that they were all right. You were nothing but a mistake. A burden that could not even use the power you were cursed with to save the being that actually meant something.

As you stood, looking at The Great Tree’s peeling, scratched bark and broken branches, you could only hold to the slight glint of hope that shined in the blue of your companion’s remaining eye. Sirius rubbed his nose into the deep red water until mud covered it. He carefully pressed blotches of it to the tree’s wounds and sneezed as the rough bark tickled his nose. You helped him, carefully applying the thick mixture of dirt and blood to the tree. “Will this work?”

“I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. “There is little else we can do now but wait.”

Sirius sighed, his eye trailing off to the side where the barrier of mist held firm against the shadows and spirits and nightmares raging against it. “How long will this barrier hold?”

The question was one you dreaded finding out the answer to. If the barrier fell, then the monsters it held back would return to their assault on the tree, looking to siphon whatever power that it held inside. “Long enough.”

“My lady,” He began. “Why do we not leave? Surely the human world or even The Dreaming would hold more sanctuary for us.”

“I cannot leave.” You leaned against the tree, listening to the weakened hum of its song. Then, lifting a hand to your still-raw wound, you looked down at the sweet wolf. “I am too weak to travel between realms. Too weak to protect our home. Too weak to protect you.”

He crawled up into your lap, pressing his head against you. “You will recover, and until then, I shall be strong for the both of us.”

Tears wet his fur. “Oh, Sirius, what would I do without you?”

“Let us never find out, my lady.”

Day after day, you listened to the creatures scream, wail, and throw themselves at the barrier of mist. Day after day, you waited for the border to give in under the strain, and day after day, it held firm. You had no idea where these creatures came from nor why they wanted the tree’s power, but it was your final duty to protect it and your realm. You would not fail.

*

Your eyes filled with orange and red hues as the flame before you engulfed the trees. Smoke filled the forest, choking the life from your lungs as you push yourself toward the burning wood. Ash rained from the black skies, coating the ground in its thick grey must and leaving a clear path behind you. From your side, Sirius coughed, struggling to keep pace with you through the haze of fire and ash.

Waving your hand, you sent a wave of mist over the woods, dousing the fires with the light moisture until they died out, leaving nothing but smoldering embers behind. The trees were black now as you carefully pressed your hand to them, listening to the pained groans of the roots beneath your palm. “It’s alright,” you soothed, pulling back to look at the dark charcoal that now stained your skin. “How many trees are still burning?”

Sirius climbed one of the taller, still sturdy branches lifting his head to look around. “Too many.” He carefully jumped down and returned to your side, pressing his dirty furred head into your leg. “We should return to The Great Tree.”

Snakes slithered beneath the ashes, writhing in agony as they tried to shed their burnt scales. Kneeling, you lifted as many as you could into your arms, whispering soft words and granting them one last gentle touch so that they might remember that in place of their fiery ends in whatever life awaited them beyond this realm of decrepit wood and shadow. In the distance, you could hear them laughing. The demons mocked you with the boisterous sound of their violence and crimes upon your realm.

You gently placed the dead at your feet and rose. “No. These demons have tested my patience long enough. It’s time they return to their master.”

“I shall stand with you, my lady.” Sirius lifted his head, the blue of his eye shining bright as he hardened himself for battle. “To whatever end.”

“My brave star,” you said, petting him gently, perhaps for the last time. “Let us show them what happens when they challenge The Forest.”

Together you and Sirius followed the laughter and the sounds of your forest screaming. Then, together, the two of you attacked them with teeth, knarled roots, and mists of burning cold. You drove the demons into a small clearing, dousing their fires and casting them into darkness. For once, you and The Forest were one. It bent to your will and heeded your commands. Sirius blended into the mist, leaping into the clearing to latch onto one of the demons before dragging it back into the mist and vanishing.

Demon after demon fell, but no matter how much blood you spilled, more came to replace them. This wasn’t possible… there couldn’t have been this many demons free of Hell’s chains. Unless…

The sound of harsh wings flapping behind you echoed through the glen, and in an instant, the embers still lingering in the burnt trees roared to life, and the fire blazed brighter and hotter than you’d ever felt. A chill of fear ran up your spine as you watched the shadow of two great wings unfurl behind you. “Hello, Daunt.”

“Lucifer Morningstar,” you breathed, turning to face them.

Their delicate features and golden hair stood out against the darkness of your realm, but the ebony wings and black leather armor they wore blended into the shadow and smoke that swirled around you both. “It is a great honor to see your realm.” Lucifer chuckled, crumbling a burnt leaf between their fingers. “I’ve heard great tales about The Forest.”

“You were not invited,” you told them. “Leave.”

“My army and I shall go on one condition,” they replied. 

The tree roots curled around you, groaning as The Forest filled with your anger. “You are in no position to bargain with me.”

The devil only laughed. “You’re not as strong as I am, especially now. You know this. I do not wish to kill you, Daunt. I simply need to pass through your… lovely little woods to get where I’m going.”

“And where would that be?” You demanded. “We aren’t exactly neighbors to The Silver City.”

Their wings bristled at the mention of their former home. “The Dreaming. I have it on good authority that our beloved Dream has abandoned the realm. I simply wish to save it from further destruction.”

Baring your teeth, one of the roots shot out toward them. Lucifer stepped to the side, out of the way of the pointed blow. “Go back to Hell.”

“If you are so eager to die, then I suppose I’ll have to grant your wish.” Lucifer shrugged their shoulders, circling you for a moment with a smile. “How will we battle, dear Daunt? An honorable game of wits, perhaps?” They chuckled. “Or do you wish to test the metal of your little trees against that of hell?”

“No games,” you spat. “I’m just going to kill you.”

“Your magic verses mine then,” they breathed with a grin. “I agree to the terms of this challenge.”

Balls of blazing fire filled their hands as they threw them out toward you. The roots pulled up from the ground and blocked the fire from your skin, the heat you could still feel through the wood. Shrieks and pain vibrated from them as the charred roots fell to the ground and writhed as the embers of hellfire continued to burn. You breathed into your palm, filling it with the coldest mist you could muster before you breathed it across the field, dousing Lucifer’s flames and trapping them in a frosty hold that made their movements sluggish and slow.

You willed the living trees to bend, twining and twisting around their wings to pull them into the dark forest. With a shout, Lucifer flexed, and their leathery wings tore through the thin branches. They growled, looking back at the scars that now littered them. Blow after blow, you both dodged and blocked, but blow after blow, the weaker you grew. And Lucifer could feel it. Finally, they breathed out an icy breath and smiled at you. “Getting tired already? How amusing.”

“Leave.”

They threw a heated blast at you again, the trees catching fire instantly, and the shockwave of their fire meeting your roots sent you to the ground. Lucifer’s heavy boots crunched the bodies of snakes and ashen roots beneath them as they walked forward. “It was a valiant effort, Daunt. But you cannot beat me.”

Your hands pressed into the dirt beneath the ash and the ever-piling snow. A song hummed around you as The Forest’s life flashed before your eyes. Silver leaves falling from the tallest tree, voices of those that were and those that are, flashes of faces young and old, past and present. Help me, you asked it. Help me save you. The ground trembled as tiny seedlings sprouted beneath your hands, curling around your fingers and sending a surge of power through you. 

Cracking and twisting noises echoed behind you as the trees molded together, taking the shape of a great forest warrior. It stood taller than anything you’d ever seen, groaning beneath the weight of its own limbs as it focused on the devil standing in front of you. With a roar of every creature known, it swiped forward, throwing Luciver aside and into the trees. Every demon for miles came running toward it with steel and fire and claws, but the warrior refused to fall. With heavy feet, it crushed those below it, and with long limbs, it grabbed fists full of demons and launched them into the darkened sky. Their bodies fell like rain, cracking and snapping in half like twigs.

Soon The Forest was filled with their screams instead of your realms. You felt a spark of hope ignite in your chest. That spark quickly turned to a burning fire as the singing steal of the devil’s blade tore through your back and protruded from your chest. You choked on the blood filling your throat as you scrambled, gasping for air. The warrior shrieked as if the pain you felt was its own, clawing and writhing until it crashed to the forest floor with the screams of a thousand trees.

Lucifer pulled their blade from your body and walked around you, looking down. “I’ll be sure to tell Dream of your valiant efforts, should he ever return.”

They lifted their sword again, aiming for your neck, but before they could swing, Sirius leaped from the trees, covered in blood and caked with clumps of ash. He latched onto one of Lucifer’s wings, pulling them back with a startled cry. “Sirius!”

He fought the devil for as long as he could, but you weakly ordered the remaining tree roots to move when he faltered from a blow to his shoulder. They bound Luciver in a tight hold, pulling them deep into the soil and hopefully back to Hell. From where you knelt, you could only watch as the barrier of mist fell away and the monsters slammed against the trunk of The Great Tree. “NO!”

Pain tore through you as they cut and cut and cut until, at last, the tree groaned and shifted, falling to the ground with a shake that sent the world into shatters. Sirius dragged you through the ash toward the glen, and what snakes remained followed. The snow fell harder until you reached the flooded meadow.

The Great Tree had fallen, and all around it, decay began to spread. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you looked around you. Life began to fade as far as your eyes could see. Sirius whined, pacing in every direction as the sounds of Hell’s armies grew louder. “My lady, we must do something! What can we do?”

“The Great Tree must live,” you told him. “If it perishes, so too will our realm, and The Dreaming will be left unprotected.”

“What must we do?”

You kissed his head. “I must give my life to the tree.”

Sirius growled at the very thought. “There must be another way.”

“There is not.” The Forest was not yours, not truly. It lived and breathed only because of the magic of The Great Tree. If you did nothing, this was the end of not just your realm, your home, and all within it that you loved but The Dreaming. If all that stood between the armies of Hell was your realm, was the mist and the confusion that came with it, then you knew what needed to be done. “You will have to tread the wood alone,” you told him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Be brave, Sirius.”

The white wolf whimpered, pressing his head further into your waiting palm. “I will not let the realm fall, my lady.”

“Wait for the Dream Lord,” You whispered as the roots began to bind you. “He will help us.”

When they began digging into your chest, burrowing deeper and deeper toward your heart, Sirius had to close his eye. He could not watch as they ripped your chest open, making way for the thicker roots. He could not bring himself to acknowledge the smell of your blood filling the water below. Your screams filled the surrounding woods, shaking the earth beneath his feet as what remained of The Great Tree bound itself to your still beating heart.

A wave of power washed over the meadow, pushing back the demons. Every tree close enough stretched and twined together, blocking the fallen tree and the living field from the threat of darkness and monsters and demons. The Forest and The Dreaming would survive so long as your heart kept beating. Sirius sat beside you, whining softly as the water turned red with your blood.

*

To Sirius, time passed slowly. Each day was cold.

Sirius was one with these dark woods. He’d been brought to life within them and had grown from a naïve newborn into what he was now. A killer. A protector. A companion. This was still his home even after the snow and ash, after the fires that decimated half the woods, the beasts and demons of gnarled shadow and bone. The Forest was his, but more than that, it was hers.

His paws tread atop the snow, barely leaving any prints beneath him as he hunched forward, camouflaged against the crisp white. In the glen ahead, he watched a small group of demons huddle around a fire. They joked about how the tree screamed when they cut it down and laughed at how pathetic his lady’s efforts at protecting it were.

Pathetic, he thought with a pointed-toothed sneer. These trespassers are pathetic indeed. He would make quick work of them. The deep growls echoed through the trees, coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once as the demons looked at the clouded wood surrounding them. Sirius used his environment well, climbing the lower branches of the twisted trees to gain a better vantage point. He stared at them for a moment before letting loose a deep bark that signaled the snakes beneath the snow.

The white serpents were perfectly camouflaged as they slithered toward each demon, jumping out to latch onto their legs and pulling them down to the ground. The sulphuric tint in their corrupted blood made Sirius’ nose burn as he dove down into the center of the glen, kicking a mass of snow over their fire and casting them into total darkness. He could see them; even blind in his one eye, he could see them clear as day.

Sirius barked twice, and the snakes let go of the demons, slithering back beneath the ground and away from the danger. He would finish these foul creatures off with his own teeth. One by one, he circled the demons, listening to those once confident and humored voices fill now with terror. It was a fitting end, one he would cherish almost as much as he’d cherish the knowledge that they would carry this failure to their winged master.

In the darkness, all the demons could see was the glowing blue eyes of the white wolf just before his teeth pierced their throats. Their blood spoiled the ground beneath them, melting the snow with a wicked hiss and turning what dead lay beneath it to little more than black ash. Sirius mourned this. He mourned The Forest’s green for a moment before returning to his Lady’s side.

Once he’d enjoyed the quiet walk back to her, but now there was little to enjoy. The trees were bare of leaves and all color, and the cold ground beneath him stung the bottoms of his paws. The thin mist made it easier to see just how dead his home had become. He quietly approached the thick wall of woven roots and tree limbs, pressing his nose to the course bark and watching as they parted, just large enough for him to slide through.

This was the only place that held any heat, the only palace that wasn’t dead... yet. The space where The Great Tree once stood was now only filled with mist as the ground below was littered with the remains of the fallen tree. The leaves turned to mulch, not even crunching beneath his paws as he moved through the red water and approached the small bed of twisted roots and vines to where her pale hand hung over the side.

Sirius pressed his head into it with a soft whine. Her stiff fingers twitched as she tried to reciprocate the loving act. He could hear her wheezing breaths and her whisper of his name. “My star,” she said. “Stay with me a while.”

He obeyed, gently climbing into the bed and moving to curl beside her, minding where the roots connected to the gaping wound in her chest. He laid his head beneath her neck and closed his eyes, listening to the weakened heartbeat of his lady. “I shall stay for as long as you shall have me, my lady.”

The white wolf fulfilled his promise. Against shadows, nightmares, and demons, he stood tall, unwilling to yield even one frozen blade of grass to the monsters that threatened to take his home and his lady. While he defended The Forest, your mind… your consciousness floated adrift through the cosmos connected to The Great Tree. You were you… but not. Past, present, and future blurred together as you followed The Corinthian’s path of death, destruction, and fear. Haunting every step you could, reminding him of what he’d done to you… warning him of what would now come to pass.

When you let yourself drift further, you could see him, Dream. He was distorted, blurred, and hazed behind magic and glass. The hum of his power sounded like the song you once danced to as it rattled against the glass of his prison each time he looked into the eyes of those that held him. The anger and pain he felt matched your own the longer he sat in the silence of his capture. For so long, you were stuck there, a specter, a ghost watching The Prince of Stories wither away, much like your world had begun to wither. Then, when the man that spoke and never listened had grown old, you felt it, a shift somewhere in the universe, a shift that gave you a spec… a tiny moment of physical power. You approached the glass and pressed your hand to it, looking into Dream’s eyes for possibly the last time. “Find me.”

The wheelchair moved, and with it, you used that sliver of power to drag it down, breaking the seal that held back the power of nightmares. Dream looked up, and for a moment, you thought he could see you, but his eyes looked through you to one of the older men. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you whispered to him, urging him to forget his promises to his beloved, to forget the fear of what might happen should Dream go free. And so Paul forgot the fear that had kept him from helping years ago. He turned his back and wheeled Alex away to sleep and never awaken.

*

The throne room stung with power, his and hers, as you forced yourself into being. Solid for as long as you could hold it and then back to mist, whispers, and nothing. “Sight alone will not tell you her secrets.”

Lucienne sobbed at the sight of you as Dream finally beheld the remaining shell. “Lady Daunt…”

He moved slowly forward, steps unsure and breaths filled with choked-back words, but you heard them. You heard all the words he’d ever spoken and all those he’d yet to speak. Dream lifted the veil that kept the view of him hazed and fractured, and once it was gone, you saw the flashes of that day in Fiddlers Green before that, too, shifted, moving like sand in a storm. You saw him again, regal and looking at you with adoration, stars glowing in his eyes, all for you. He reached out, fingers grazing across your skin like blazing fire consuming the vision and fleeting feelings of warmth and love. “Daunt.”

Daunt, you thought. It sounded so familiar and yet not familiar at all. The haze was gone now, the visions too, as you looked at him. Dark hair and pale skin, older… different. New tears slid down your cheeks. Dream… It’s me… I’m here... “It fell before its time. Cut to the bone. Crying out and bleeding, left to burrow. Left to rot. The roots dug too deep, and the leaves wither... Darkness. It falls... Falling deeper and deeper. Drowning. Drowning. Drowning.”

No. Speak clearly. You pleaded to yourself. Tell him where we are… tell him to help us. He touched your cheek. “Daunt...”

“It wasn’t real.” Your words were fueled by lingering anger and hate. The echoes of Daunt, the burden, the mistake. Echoes of a being you weren’t sure you were anymore. “King of Nightmares… King of lies.” No. No. Dream, please!

“It was real, Daunt,” he whispered, voice soft as silk and morning dew on blades of grass. Your soul hummed with the song, filling your being with longing as he continued to speak. “Every moment. “I…” He sighed, the breath curling in the air around you, taking the shape of silver ravens as ice spread through the throne room. “I love you.”

You love me… You wanted to ask him to say it again. To say it for eternity. I love you too… Your lips quivered as your body began to tremble, the weight of holding yourself to this plain finally catching up with you. “You cannot love a dead thing.”

“You are not dead.” Not yet. “Where are you? Tell me, and I shall come.”

“The Forest,” you whispered. Go to Fiddler’s Green. Go to the woods and find the mist. “The trees know... The roots protect. We will be gone soon... Consumed and swallowed by the earth once more. Drowning... Drowning...”

“Daunt-”

You dug your hands into his arms, desperately clinging to him, trying to keep yourself from fading away as you sobbed. “Find us.”

*

You could hear the sorrowful sobs of the woman, but you felt nothing. No sympathy or remorse, only a steady hum of power directing you toward the spirit. You raised your hand, covered in frost and frozen vines, “Come.”

“Hector!”

“She’s here for me.”

“You can’t go with her. You can’t go!” the woman cried. “I can’t… not again.”

“What is lost will always be found.” 

“Daunt,” he whispered her name like a desperate prayer, a caress of a lover’s words. Dream, your whole being unfurled at the sound of his voice, filling you with a moment of reprieve before the harsh memory of his past words clouded over all else.

The spirit, Hector, spared the woman he loved a look before pressing a kiss to her lips and cradling her round belly in his hands. “Tell the baby I love them. Never let them forget just how much I love them.”

With a weak sob, she nodded. “I won’t, not ever.” She sobbed as she cupped his cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” the spirit whispered. “Goodbye.”

He turned and lifted his hand to yours, vanishing in a wave of mist, and distant wolf howls echoed around them. Dream took a half step forward at the familiar sounds of The Forest’s call.

“Child born of death and dreams,” you said, a warning… a simple thing that was all you had to offer her. “Evil will seek it out to steal its power.”

“No!” She shook her head, holding her stomach tighter. “No.”

The Vortex, the girl named Rose, rubbed her arms. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep them safe.” She looked at Dream, eyes gleaming with tears. “Right, Dream?”

He was frozen for a moment, still looking at you, before he answered. “So long as I live, no harm shall befall your child. Not in the Waking World and not in dreams.”

“We are running out of time,” you said to him. Please. Please come, Dream.

“Then help me,” he pleaded. “Open your realm and let me in.”

It is open. It always was. Even when you were your most cruel to me, I never closed it to you. You tilted your head, “Only you hold the power to do so, Dream of The Endless.”

“What do you mean?”

“My realm was never closed to you.”

“I do not understand.”

You lifted a frozen hand to his face, tracing over his eyes. “You do not need to understand. You only need to see.”

*

You could see the end before your eyes as the familiar presence of the Endless being and his most powerful nightmare filled The Forest. Rose Walker drifted closer to Dream’s blackened figure as everything shifted, solidifying into the dying realm. “What is this? What’s happening?”

The tree roots wound around The Corinthian’s limbs as The Nightmare tried to flee from you as you emerged from the darkness. “Daunt.”

“At last,” you said softly, letting that stream of endless memories of the bridge and the blade fill your being. “You have come to see the damage caused by your hands.”

Tighter, you urged the trees, and they listened, squeezing the nightmare so tightly his bones began to creak. “This is still your dream Rose.”

“No.” You said, cold and angry. Don’t you dare steal this from me. You do not know what he’s done. What he’s allowed to happen.

Rose shivered as she hid behind Dream’s back, “This dream is over.”

“NO!” you screamed, moving as quickly as possible to try to grab the nightmare.

They were gone. Dream and the Vortex Rose. The Corinthian. Your teeth ground together as you clenched your fists at your side. “No.” The ground shook beneath you as frost slithered up your arms, biting your skin. “No.” You could still see the horrors The Corinthian had committed with his own hands and those he allowed to happen because of his betrayal. “NO!”

As you screamed, The Forest answered. The trees grew taller, shooting through the mist and darkness and breaking into the human world. You followed them through, mist filling the room as The Forest started to bleed into the Waking World. The Corinthian looked at you as you emerged from the mist, breathing heavily with wide eyes and anger filling your lungs. “You do not get to leave me again, Corinthian.”

“Daunty,” the nightmare said softly, bringing all the other times he’d called you the nickname to replay before you. Corinthian… Roots twined around him as you walked past Dream to stand in front of his rouge creation, the creation that you loved.

“Have you any idea what it was like?” You asked though you knew no answer would be enough. “Knowing all this time that it was you that plunged the blade into my heart. That you… my friend… would doom me to this.”

“I’m sorry.” Why did you do it? You wanted to ask.

A sob echoed around you. “LIAR!”

The roots stabbed through The Corinthian in various places, digging deep into his body. He took it all with a sheer grit of his teeth, never looking away from your face as you stepped closer to him, willing his blade… the blade that had been used to start the century of pain. You pressed it against The Corinthian’s chest. “Do it. I deserve it.”

“Daunt…” Dream tried to step between you.

“No,” The Corinthian told him, his rows of teeth eyes clenching. “Do it, Daunty. Finish me.”

 “Was it worth it?” You demanded, looking out at all the humans he urged to follow in his footsteps. “Was all this worth it?”

“The only thing I regret is what I did to you,” he said.

“Regret? You do not know regret… not nearly enough to satisfy me.”

“Daunt,” Dream called out, but you could hardly hear him over the sound of power and pain rushing through your projected being.

You stabbed The Corinthian’s ribs, twisting it as you knelt. Look at me. “Look into my eyes, betrayer. Look and see what you wrought.”

You then showed him the events that had transpired because of his carelessness and cruelty. You showed him your home vanishing, the trees withering, the creatures attacking you, and everything around you. The trees closest to you caught fire as you showed him those that had died when Hell’s legions came to your woods. You forced him to listen to the sounds of fear and screaming. “Daunt…”

“You did this!” You screamed, tearing the blade from his ribs and stabbing him again.

The Corinthian bowed his head for a moment before he pulled the blade from his flesh and held it out to you, “Please.”

The sharp pain of your power draining as The Great Trees roots wound tighter around your heart forced you back slightly. You quietly cried, holding your hands to your now bleeding chest. “I trusted you…”

“I didn’t mean for this,” he whispered. “I didn’t…”

You cried harder as the unspoken words filled your ears. “I cannot kill you, dear Corinthian. No matter how much you deserve it. Our fates are sealed, yours and mine.”

He looked back up at Dream. “Finish it, Dream.”

“I brought you into this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it.”

“I do it to taste what it’s like to be human.” The Corinthian admitted. “You don’t care about humanity, none of them. You can’t even bring yourself to care about her. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules.”

“I contain the entire collective unconscious. Without my rules, it would consume me. Humanity would be consumed.”

“Or you might actually feel something. I am not the problem, Dream.”

“You are right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you, but I created you poorly then. So I must uncreate you now.”

You could feel the power of dreams and starlit nights at your back as the face you’d once called friend. The sand swirled, glowing red as The Corinthian smiled at you. “Yours is the last face I will see.” Goodbye, my friend.

The sand fell through your fingers until all that remained was the nightmares skull. You stood, offering the tiny thing to Dream and looking up at him through a red-stained gaze as blood filled your vision. “Find us, Dream. Please.”

We’re running out of time.

*

He was so tired, so cold. Sirius trudged through the shoulder-deep snow, panting as the fatigue and the pain from his still-open wounds began to take hold of him. Year after year, he hunted and fought to protect The Forest from the creatures lurking in its dying woods. The snowfall never ceased, making the journey across the forest’s buried paths even more treacherous. It had been days since he’d left Daunt’s side to track down a particularly persistent creature. He’d found it quickly, but the fight had been more challenging than anticipated. Perhaps it was the creature’s speed or ferocity, or perhaps it was simply the fact that he had grown older over the hundred years of fighting.

Sirius found the closest ice bed and pressed his wounded back to it, groaning as the cold’s sting helped seal the wound shut. He licked the frozen water, hoping the small amount of melted liquid would sustain him a while longer. Then, with his one good eye, he looked down at his reflection, a bitter sorrow filling his thinning body. He was no longer the joyful and curious companion that his lady had brought to life in that small, humble hut. He was a killer now. A warrior forged in frozen blood and lingering scars. 

For a moment, he wished he could go back to when things were good. To when it was just him and the fair lady Daunt walking the green forests and chasing the fish and gathering rocks. He wished they could be together again. A snap in the distance made his ears twitch. He let out a huff of air and turned away from the frozen lake. The past was gone, and now he could only remain true to his promise. He could only protect what remained of his home and his lady. 

What creature would be foolish enough to lead a predator to it? Sirius followed the echoes of flesh tearing apart. Whatever it was that had been caught allowed him to find the beast he had been hunting. A white stag lay in the glen, half dead and trapped beneath a shadowed beast’s talons and teeth. The poor thing reminded him of his lady. Of how pale she’d grown and how fearful she seemed to be whenever she was coherent enough. Then a rustle of darkness caught his eye, drawing him to the tall, pale figure that stood at the treeline.

“Holy shit,” a little bird said from a low branch beside the demon. Fools. He trod the snow quickly as the beast reared its head and let out a loud screech. The beast pounced, claws tearing free of the stag and slicing through the air, excitement buzzing from it as it moved to make the killing blow. Sirius shot out through the trees, throwing the black creature onto the other side of the clearing, back into the safety of the mist. He growled as its claws dug into his side, trying to throw him off and free itself. “No fleeing this time, foul beast.”

He struggled, digging his paws deep into the uncomfortable blackness of its thin flesh as he found an opening and quickly latched his teeth around its throat, biting down until its head snapped off and rolled into the snow. The ground shook beneath his paws, and his head shot up. “I’m coming, my lady.” He said to the trees, hoping she would hear him. His head turned to the little bird, now standing in the snow. “I just have two more demons to rid our realm of.”

“Where the fuck are we?”

Before the little bird’s demon master could answer the pitiful question, Sirius leaped from the mist and pinned its black wing to the snowy ground. He bit the cold air to make the creature stop struggling and growled, bearing his bloodstained teeth. Finally, the bird stilled, and he raised his head to look up at its master. “What manner of demon are you?”

“I am no demon,” the tall thing said, voice deep and rich with a power lurking within his voice alone. “I am Dream of the Endless.”

“Dream?”

With a nod, the being stepped forward. “King of All Night’s Dreaming. The Prince of Stories. Lord of the Dreamworld.”

The bird twitched beneath his paw. “I don’t think reciting all your titles is helping, and I know Lucienne won’t be happy if I come back with one wing.”

Sirius’ ears twitched, and he lessened his pressure on the bird’s wing. “Lucienne? You know Lucienne?”

The bird cawed quietly. “Uhh, yeesss?”

“Lucienne is my librarian.” The dream man said. “She resides in The Dreaming, my realm. How do you know of her?”

He lifted his paw off the bird and turned toward the man. “You are the Dream Lord?”

“I am.”

“My lady and I came to your realm long ago, offering aid.” A glimmer of recognition lit up the man’s eyes. “I can only hope you’ve come to offer the same.”

Dream took a step forward. “You are Daunt’s companion.”

The bird stretched its wings before flying back to the branch beside its master. “You know this crazy dog?”

“Only in passing memory.”

Sirius bowed his head slightly. “Forgive my boldness. I mistook you for a threat.”

He waved the apology away. “Where is your master?”

“Not far, but the path is dangerous.” Sirius turned to the stag, who wheezed with eyes darting wilding. He pressed his snout into it, sighing. “Forgive my slowness, fair beast. Follow Death’s warmth and pass into the realms beyond this frozen waste.” He bit down around its neck, waiting until its breathing ceased to pull away.

“What happened here?”

Looking up at the Dream Lord Sirius filled with pain. “A great many horrors.” He turned and started down the hidden path. “Follow closely, or you shall meet an end like the stags.”

[iwriteasfotini]

Ok, I promised myself to stay logged out. And there is a lot to mourn IRL today, but here I am because I channeled all my rage into my passion project, which is currently writing fanfiction and in doing research for my story I found...

Did you know that the reunion in the Shrieking Shack at the end of POA was impossible for two reasons (and I'm PISSED). Also I drop some F-Bombs in this post. Sorry not sorry.

The full moon of June 1994 was on the 23. Here's a lunar calendar.

"It's from Hagrid," said Harry, ripping the note open. "Buckbeak's appeal - it's set for the sixth." - From POA Chapter Sixteen - Professor Trelawny's Prediction

This would be in reference to June 6th, 1994, as Hogwarts always lets out in June. How hard is it to reference a fucking lunar calendar!?!?!?!?! **An Edit on 11/7 - My partner said JKR didn't have access to the internet like we do now, so my 45 second google research into the lunar calendar of the nineties might have taken her an hour at her local library...**

2. Werewolves transform with the rising of the full moon (at least that is the impression mythology has given me and nothing in the Harry Potter world has contradicted this).

Then, out of nowhere, something hit Harry so hard across the face he was knocked off his feet again. He heard Hermione shriek with pain and fall too. Harry groped for his wand, blinking blood out of his eyes - "Lumos!" he whispered. The wandlight showed him the trunk of a thick tree; they had chased Scabbers into the shadow of the Whomping Willow and it's branches were creaking as though in a high wind, whipping backwards and forward to stop them going nearer. -From POA Chapter Seventeen- Cat, Rat, and Dog

AND

A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight. -From POA Chapter Twenty - The Dementor's Kiss [this was the whole group coming out of the Willow BEFORE Remus begins to transform]

AND

"Here comes Lupin!" said Harry as they saw another figure come sprinting down the stone steps and haring toward the Willow. Harry looked up at the sky. Clouds were obscuring the moon completely. -From POA Chapter Twenty-One - Hermione's Secret

So, while we don't have any time stamp evidence, these passages suggest it was already dark enough for Harry to cast a Lumos to see where they were BEFORE they even went under the Willow. Evidence here also suggests the moon was FULLY FUCKING RISEN by the time Remus left the castle to go down the tunnel at the base of the Willow. It was merely obscured by a cloud.

Someone for the love of all things Harry Potter, PLEASE contradict me!

Please tell me I missed a critical tidbit of information that, oh actually werewolves are only in their true form if the rays of the full moon are shining DIRECTLY UPON THE GROUND!?!?!?! Or my analysis of the timing of these events is simply incorrect.

I mean how big of an oversight is this. The lunar calendar is bad enough, she had years to plan this plot line. I'm writing FANFICTION for FREE and I have sworn by the lunar calendars of the 1970's to dictate each of Remus' transformations. But to utilize Remus' lycanthropy to allow Peter to escape and Voldemort to return, and to have it not even have been a full moon that day and for the circumstances of his "delayed" transformation to be so skeptical, has me positively reeling.

I've sworn I would follow canon events through the seven books if I stay motivated to write that far, but now... I don't think so. My story will still lead into canon for event compliance but if I write into those years I'm doing an AU. An AU where plot diverges at this extremely PIVITOL MOMENT in the series.

An AU where Sirius and Remus get to live. Where old wrongs are righted. Where Dumbledore does something USEFUL and hunts down Voldemort and Horcruxes himself. Where we see the fallibility of Prophecies. We already lost Regulus, James, and Lily. Someone deserves to live.

I am open to thoughts, if you have them to share!

[wylanlupin]

Wolfstar Comfort Fest 2024

day 2: Meet Cute

Rating: Teen And Up Audience

Category: F/M

Pairing: WolfStar (Remus/Sirius)

Words: 2k

The person has long curly black hair that shines so bright it almost blinds Remus. It looks so soft that he wants to run his fingers through it.

The raven black haired girl freezes, before looking up with a questioning look on her face. “How can I help you?”

“My name is Remus Lupin,” he blurts out and sits down next to her. The script in his hand, long forgotten on the armchair backrest. “What are you doing?”

A small smile forms on the girl's face and she looks down to her nails and back to Remus. “Painting my nails? Why? Do you want to?”

or: Remus sees Sirius painting her nails in a theatre foyer and falls in love.

[siriuslystarbucks]

Day 22: Lineage

Written for @prongsfoot-microfic

Harry traced the gold line up from his name to his parents, then the thread that connected them. It seemed such a fragile thing, that small line that connected Sirius O. Black to James F. Potter, but Harry knew their relationship was stronger than that. He'd never seen two people so in love, something all his mates agreed with after they visited.

His finger went down to his own name again and he trailed off to one side, where his future spouse's name would go. He wondered if he'd ever find someone that loved him so much that he felt it could compare to what his parents had. Right now, such a thing seemed impossible. All he had under his belt was a single failed date, no relationship to speak of.

"Whatcha looking at, sprog?" Sirius asked, leaning against the doorway.

"The family tapestry," Harry answered, even though it must've been obvious. He dropped his hand down to his side and stared at his parents' names again.

The golden lines glittered as if the magic that wove it together knew there was something special about these unions. The line that connected Harry to his parents was still gold, but it didn't shine the way it did between James and Sirius.

"D'you think I'll ever fall in love?"

Sirius's face went soft and sympathetic. "If that's what you want, then of course you will. I haven't seen anything stand in your way when you want to get through. You're like your da in that way."

As if summoned by the mention of himself, James appeared at Sirius's side, sliding an arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Dinner's nearly done. You two coming or should I eat it all myself?"

"Don't even joke," Sirius said as he turned. He pecked James's lips and they fell into place at each other's sides as they left the room.

Harry looked at them and smiled. He'd have that some day. Like his pop said, he'd never let anything stand in his way before. He gave a parting pat to the family tapestry, as though for luck.

One day, that would be him.

[limey-self-inserts]

Howdy Limey!

I wanted to ask these from the rolodex vocabulary ask game but first, please allow me to take this moment to remind you my Ask box is always open to come chat about the highlights of your week or gush about your f/os anytime!

10. Vociferous: What are some things your f/o is passionate about? Why are they passionate about these things? Do you share their passions? How likely are they to get into a debate over their passions? For Douxie!

3. Izod: How tough is your f/o? Have they ever reached their breaking point and if so, what happened and how did they pick themselves back up afterwards + how did you help them through this time? For Alucard!

8. Bauble: Does your f/o like to collect anything? If not, do they own something that brings them immense joy and satisfaction- if so, tell us about it! For Sirius!

2. Appellation: If possible, look up and tell us the meaning of your f/o's name + tell us if you feel it reflects your f/o in any way (those of you with OC f/os, It's your time to shine ;)) for Obitus!

Cheers,

Moxie @tex-treasures

hey hey! thank you for sending in the ask! (and I'm so sorry this took so long to complete)

Vociferous: What are some things your f/o is passionate about? Why are they passionate about these things? Do you share their passions? How likely are they to get into a debate over their passions?

oh Douxie is ON with music, especially rock and heavy metal. he likes to spend his spare time making up riffs or learning tunes from songs he's been listening to recently. he's also super passionate about magic, especially in the practical aspects. being able to blend music and magic is such peak Douxie because he's just putting his all into what he loves

Avalon is a fellow magic-caster but has a very different perspective due to being self-taught. you can bet that they and Douxie will be sat down for hours debating how certain spells are cast and comparing notes/experiences of it, with Douxie intrigued in how Avalon learned spells without the studying and Avalon wanting the actual teachings to better understand what they can do. of course, sometimes it means they'll get heated in which method is best vs. which method is correct

Izod: How tough is your f/o? Have they ever reached their breaking point and if so, what happened and how did they pick themselves back up afterwards + how did you help them through this time?

(cw Castlevania spoilers, assault mention)

Alucard is. hoooo, he is tough. he is very tough, despite going through an exceptional amount of hardship. he had to fight and kill his own father (regardless of the massive threat Dracula posed to the rest of humanity in the instance). he ended up living predominantly alone for several months, and when he did welcome people into his life in the form of a pair of wanna-be hunters - well, those hunters tried to kill him out of fear he was hiding secrets from them. so he killed them in retaliation. that was definitely a breaking point for him. he opened himself up with trust and it hurt him badly for it. it took the offer of trust from a different stranger to start picking him back together

Crow was hurt badly during Alucard's breaking point. they didn't so much help so much as retreat from humanity alongside Alucard. they were a comforting presence, but not much else

Bauble: Does your f/o like to collect anything? If not, do they own something that brings them immense joy and satisfaction- if so, tell us about it!

ooooooo Sirius does enjoy collecting small trinkets whenever he goes on excursions. this can range from pressed flowers to shiny rocks to small gems. mostly reminders of places he's been to.

he never really developed a taste for expensive items during his childhood in noble life, and instead finds joy in beautiful and rather natural items. he might pick up a piece of jewellery, but more likely simple pendants or leather-banded items, things where the beauty is found more in how the item was made or a singular gemstone in the piece

Appellation: If possible, look up and tell us the meaning of your f/o's name + tell us if you feel it reflects your f/o in any way (those of you with OC f/os, It's your time to shine ;))

Obitus' name come from the Latin word 'obitus', associated with the approach of death/dying/setting of the sun. 'obitus' is the base for the word 'obituary', a short descriptive of someone's death with general information on the person.

as an assassin, this fits very appropriately with him. his approach bodes death to the unsuspecting and suspecting alike. he certainly takes his job seriously.