#lupiinee

[thechosengryffindor]

@lupiinee from here

"I must be getting predictable." Harry grumbled, but there was a look of relief in his eyes when he laid eyes on Lupin. "Or did Hermione tell you where to find me?" It's an attempt at a joke, but really Harry's heart just isn't in it. He watches as his former teacher sits down.

"I don't even know what to say. I don't know what I feel, but everyone keeps telling me that's okay and...Maybe that should comfort me but I somehow find that just as irritating." It doesn't make sense." It felt like a lifetime of grieving at this point.

"It's all just a jumbled...mess that I don't know if I want to sort out anymore."

[wotchertxnks]

i rly went “hey @lupiinee , you know how disgusting in love remus & dora are? why don’t we make them even MORE gross by making them childhood sweethearts?”

[obsidianwarden]

@lupiinee from x.

AS A RULE, Severus Snape enjoyed Quidditch matches as much as having a Blast-Ended Skrewt for a pillow, even more so when the sun was glaring in an offensively blue sky. Oh, joy - of course Lupin should appear, heralded by some mixture of tired footsteps, the scrape of a cane against the wooden planks, and the faint scent of damp wool and tea leaves, just as he had finally and painstakingly carved out a small corner of solitude amidst the ruckus of the juvenile crowd. As if Snape’s solitude were something to be merely overruled. The infuriatingly placid tone and almost martyred demeanour Lupin carried with him did nothing to improve his already sour mood, and it took a good measure of will power not to openly sneer at the audacity. He did not bother to turn his head - the mere act of acknowledging Lupin’s presence felt like an undue concession, and yet, for some inexplicable reason, the man insisted on speaking. For a spell, Snape remained silent, slender fingers steepled before him in something like thought, though in reality, his thoughts were very much occupied with the barely restrained compulsion of leaving.

When he finally decided to turn, it was in a slow and calculated motion, meant to convey exactly how much effort it took to tolerate this intrusion. He exhaled through his large nose, taking a deep, measured breath, his patience hanging by a thread finer than spun silk as a the beginnings of a migraine started to rattle around in his head - soon to pound to the rhythm of the many feet against the stands, courtesy of the shrill, unrelenting assault of Quidditch on his senses. It was a wonder anyone left these spectacles with their hearing - or their dignity - intact.

The wolf looked ragged today. Though he did not comment on it, no detail escaped the keen scrutiny of his dark eyes: the slight slump in Lupin’s shoulders, the ever-present ghost of exhaustion behind his eyes. How unfortunate that Snape did not possess even an ounce of sympathy to spare.

Snape’s glittering gaze slid sideways as the other man poured himself a cup. "It may have escaped your notice, but it is my duty as a member of staff to preside over these ... spectacles." his voice was silk over steel, a low drawl curling around the words like smoke from a waning fire. There were few things in his life not dictated by obligation, and this - this exercise in patience - was no exception. There was always some burden he had to bear, some unseen chain binding him to places he did not wish to be. And the green-eyed reason sat high above them on a broomstick, reckless and oblivious.

As the crowd howled and the players started their gaudy display of reckless aerobics, he suddenly found that he was longing for the first match of the season, when when thunder had rattled the stands and the Dementors had swarmed the pitch like carrion birds. No such convenient excuse for an early departure today.

He had intended to let his words slice through the conversation and leave it bleeding at his feet. But something about Lupin’s refusal to take offence, his infuriating way of making himself comfortable in places he had no right to be made Snape’s petty irritation coil ever tighter. "Not everyone enjoys watching children chase after enchanted balls." some of us prefer to occupy their time with other pursuits, is what was left unsaid, possibly followed by, a quiet evening brooding in the comfort of the dungeons and a bottle of old odgen's, where the only voices he had to suffer were those of his own bitter thoughts.

[potentialbreakupscng-a]

just one week. that was all she asked. a week where she could be with her family and not having to deal with the world after the war. her world after the war, was lounging around with her husband and their son. they didn't get a chance for a honeymoon or to really be a couple. she didn't mind that their wedding was small or rushed -- or any of those things. she just wanted a moment without having to clean up the chaos that happens after a war. she was exhausted, but she could hear moody's voice in the back of her head telling her that it was her job -- that was what she signed up to do.

a sigh fell past her lips when she felt his arms around her waist, turning around and squeaking at the way he lifted her off the ground. her arms circle around his neck, fingers combing through the hair on the back of his head as her eyes narrow slightly. "or we tell kingsley to fuck off and stay home." though he wasn't just kingsley anymore. he was the minister of magic. a friend, she still considered. he was campaigning hard to overturn the anti-werewolf legislation that umbridge had put in -- and various other things but that was the main one on her radar.

for obvious reasons.

a pout formed on her lips - taking a moment to examine him and seeing that he walked just fine before deciding to practically climb up onto him. her legs wound around him, keeping her arms draped around his neck and swirling some of his greying locks around her finger. "oh, love," she breathed, a smirk tugging on the corners of her lips, "the things i'd like to do pantless and braless would take longer than just a few minutes." she quirked an eyebrow at him as her fingers gave his hair a gentle tug -- her teeth sinking into her lower lip as her dark eyes move along his face before leaning in to place a gentle kiss against his lips. it had been a struggle to get here -- happy, in love and together. but so worth it.

a sigh escaped her as she allowed her feet to touch the ground once more -- relenting to the fact that she had to actually do a job and not just ravish her husband and cuddle their son. she moved around their room again, grabbing her ripped jeans and pulling them on. "is he coming here or are we meeting him at the ministry? we'll have to get teddy ready, too, if we're going to the ministry."

@lupiinee x

[luminescenc1e]

It was almost laughable, though Severus doubted Lupin would view the situation in the same way. The werewolf would hardly appreciate the grim irony that his suffering, at the very least, had revealed what the potion was still lacking. Perfecting it remained yet another tiresome obligation, one more task Dumbledore had so casually thrust upon his shoulders. As though his days were not already filled to the brim with demands and distractions.

With a curt flick of his wand, he lifted Lupin’s sweat-drenched form from the sagging, decrepit chair where he had slumped. The man floated awkwardly in midair, a pitiful sight Severus regarded with cold detachment. The adjoining bedroom seemed the most practical place to deposit him, though the risk of further mess was not lost on him. Still, he supposed it hardly mattered. Lupin, were their roles reversed, would surely not extend the same care.

He sighed as the door to the bedroom creaked open, gently, almost in spite of himself, he placed Lupin on the rumpled bed. From a nearby shelf, he retrieved two potions. Tilting the other head with practiced precision, he administered the blood-replenishing draught first, letting it trickle drop by drop, followed by the Pepperup potion to ease the fever and nausea. A simple solution for a wretched predicament.

With the immediate tasks completed, there was little else to do but wait. Dragging a chair to the window and settled himself with a stack of essays from his third-year students. Predictably, their work was a testament to mediocrity and carelessness—a collection of half-formed ideas and avoidable errors. He would finish the rest over the weekend, a weekend he had intended to spend on his own pursuits.

Instead, he found himself here, tending to a man who had once taken such pleasure in tormenting him, or idly standing by and witnessing his torment - it didn't much matter. The bitter irony of the situation was not lost on Severus, though he lacked the energy to find it amusing.

continued from here with @lupiinee

[ofblackskies]

"I knew he was a killer the first time that I saw him."

@lupiinee gets a harry potter starter

[anthomaniacs]

narcissa malfoy never thought that she would return to hogwarts. in the aftermath of the war, she could still feel her soul hanging on a breath, her mind latching every exit, every entry. when she'd felt harry potter's heartbeat thrum beneath her touch, only one name had brightened, flared, shone silver: draco.

very rarely did narcissa leave the safety of malfoy manor these days. she busied herself with the common irrelevancies of everyday life, its little sinuous worries that were all too easy to fix, as if some thread of connection had been cut between herself and the rest of the world. alone, feverish, drawn in to herself, and with a heaviness like waking sleep upon her, narcissa immersed herself in tasks of no great importance and counted the passage of time only through the letters that her son sent her every week.

but for the sake of draco, narcissa knew she needed to rebuild the malfoy reputation from the ground up. if she didn't return to the sunlight now, she might forget how. and it was almost pleasant — this autumn air on her face, this cold that bit her to the bone — if she just tried hard enough to forget about the way people looked at her now, as if she deserved a death sentence.

it was nearing dusk on a sunday, and the number of visitors was slowly trickling down. she hardly knew where to go — all this was so foreign to her. as a girl, narcissa had come to the three broomsticks every weekend with bella — and andy, too, at first, but she'd gone and married a mudblood. perhaps it was sentimentality, but narcissa soon found herself at a table in the pub, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the rim of a goblet of mulled wine. the three broomsticks hadn't changed much, though it seemed smaller now, less alive.

when the door creaked open, narcissa's gaze swept sharply up, her pulse quickening despite herself. the breeze carried with it a faint smell of damp leaves, and there was a subtle shift in the air. standing in the doorway, shaking off the chill, was a man she hadn't seen in years. lupin looked older now, and thinner, the lines on his face etched deeper than she remembered. he had been draco's defense against the dark arts professor in third year. yes, she remembered. a werewolf.

narcissa's first instinct was to shrink further into her hood, but it was too late. her gaze met his in an almost dreamlike moment, and she realized with a sinking cold that he had recognized her. her fingers tightened imperceptibly around the goblet of wine, and she held his gaze for a fraction longer than she intended — whatever had happened in the war, she was still a malfoy, and her pride had not yet been eroded so completely.

"mr. lupin." she said when he approached her table, her voice carefully measured, as though addressing an old acquaintance at a social gathering rather than a man who had every reason to despise her. narcissa inclined her head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment that did not extend to invitation. "such a pleasure to see you. what brings you here? surely not nostalgia."

@lupiinee

[etoiledechien]

"i heard someone say that moony doesn't fight. and i'm here to prove that wrong. my presence alone makes him want to fight. i'm simply too hot to ignore."

[dementrd]

@lupiinee — continued from x

it's  quiet  in  grimmauld  place  save  for  the  fire  blazing,  a  useless  attempt  at  pouring  heat  into  this  wretched  house.  nothing  works  when  the  cold  has  seeped  into  these  very  walls,  and  sirius  counts  the  days  down  as  though  he  is  back  in  azkaban.  fuck,  maybe  he  preferred  it  there.  “no  —  nothing.”  he  states  quietly;  though  sirius  had  of  course  been  grumbling  once  again  about  his  being  stuck  within  the  old  family  home  whereas  the  order  have  been  free  to  come  and  go.  but  then  remus  had  looked  so  incredibly  out  of  it,  and  sirius  exercises  some  rarely  used  tact  by  not  bringing  up  his  grievings  once  more.  mid  thirties,  and  still  that  arrogant  boy  around  whom  the  world  should  spin. 

“what's  on  your  mind?”  a  question  loaded  with  caution,  sirius  raises  a  dark  brow  and  tilts  his  head  in  the  doglike  manner  which  is  so  familiar  to  him.  he  reminds  himself  that,  since  his  arrest,  remus  has  grown  into  a  man  and  left  sirius  behind  him  in  his  path.  he  doesn't  entirely  know  his  best  friend  any  longer,  and  he  certainly  doesn't  know  where  he  stands.  how  awful  sirius  has  been  throughout  the  tumultuous,  though  at  times  exhilarating,  mess  of  their  friendship  —  that  fucking  ‘  prank  ’,  how  suspicious  he  had  been  during  the  first  war.  to  rely  on  his  good  graces  now  is  terrible  and  selfish,  but  sirius  is  so,  incredibly,  lonely.  “don't  apologise,  moony.  i've  been  plenty  bloody  distant  the  past  few  months.  you're  entitled  to  give  me  a  taste  of  it.”

[dustoire]

“ ah , yes , i do have quite the sweet tooth . ” an eyebrow perches on viktor's face , lips flickering into a smirk before he drops his head and , almost reluctantly , moves towards the offered seat . perhaps he ought to pay more attention to the changes in who he converses with . “ please , forgive me . severus is . . . a complicated conversationalist , i've noticed . ”

a silent nod as a thank you for the seat , and he sits . “ it is well , yes . and yours ? i have to assume your lessons are far more interesting to the students than mine . ” he takes a moment , jokingly scoffing to himself . “ mathematics in magic . i am shocked to have students at all . ”

@lupiinee | continued

[marblecarved]

@lupiinee sent a letter to minerva mcgonagall: ‘‘ i wanted to thank you for protecting me back there. ’’

prompt: feeling safe and expressing comfort.

Turning at the sound of Remus' voice, Minerva answers with an: ❝ of course, ❞ accompanied by a smile which, though small, is no less relieved at seeing him again. ❝ I'm glad I arrived just in time, ❞ if she did not, if she was even one second too late…

Not wanting to entertain the thought further, not even in its vagueness, Minerva shakes her head in a brief, sharp movement, as though to dismiss it, and then lowers her wand. She doesn't tuck it away in her sleeve just yet, however; One can never be too cautious, after all, and so she keeps it at her side in a firm grip. It is here that she looks at him - truly looks at him, flickering her gaze from head, to toe, and back again. ❝ How are you, Remus ? ❞ she asks him then. ❝ You are not injured, I hope ? ❞

[thechosengryffindor]

"We've got to get you out of here." from @lupiinee

Send, "We've got to get you out of here." for sender to find receiver bleeding out.

"No!" The protest comes out quickly, "I'm fine." But he could feel the blood in his shirt, " I wasn't the only one attacked, we gotta find them first." But his brain felt foggy, where were they?

He had distinct memories of hearing someone shout a spell at him. Had he been attacked? "Is..." he grunted as he tried to get to his feet, but his body wouldn't cooperate. What had hit him? "Go, get everyone else out first...Please." His hands were red, was that his blood?

Oh Merlin.

[wotchertxnks]

"did you forget it was your cock that was in my mouth? yes, we."

with a wave of her hand her window opened -- knowing that her mother would be pissed that her room smelled like cigarettes. it was the least she could do. her nose wrinkled at the way he called her out for being the one to initiate this time. every time was always going to be the last time. but no one had ever plagued her thoughts like remus had. it was obnoxious, and she hated it. she hated that someone had...any kind of hold on her. she wanted to stay away, so desperately. he scratched an itch that she didn't even realize she had.

manicured fingers plucked the cigarette from her, placing it between her lips and taking a long drag from it -- stained red from the lipstick that was now littered across the man's body. nymphadora shifted, nose wrinkling at the slight ache between her legs -- but it wasn't unwelcome. she enjoyed that he knew she wasn't fragile. she begged him, really. no one but him had ever made her beg for anything. it wasn't like she hadn't gotten him back -- he always left with scratch marks on his back. "and you showed up," she quipped back, arching an eyebrow and reaching up to pull her fingers through the now tangled curls that had been curled perfectly. her tongue darted out to wet her lips, while she flicked some of her fringe from her face. "you wanted this just as much as i did, don't fucking act like you don't." she shifts on her large bed -- draped with bright pink curtains along the canopy frame -- so her chest is resting on top of his. the bottom half of her nude body draped diagonally across the bed. the tip of her manicured nail moved to draw a pattern along his chest, a smirk tugging on her lips as she hovers over him.

"you like fucking me, pet," she cooed, her finger tracing along his neck -- up his adam's apple before hitting her chin. she hummed, her nail sliding along his jaw. "you don't have to admit it. i know just because you keep crawling back in bed with me."

@lupiinee x

[obsidianwarden]

👀 (hehehe - be nice snerp, its his birthday after all)

Send 👀 to get a begrudging Snape to admit if he finds you attractive!

Snape pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly, as though bracing for an unavoidable execution. His voice, when he finally speaks through gritted teeth, is flat, clipped, and entirely devoid of enthusiasm.

"If one were so inclined to appreciate dishevelled, perpetually exhausted-looking men with a penchant for tragedy and self-sacrifice, then - perhaps - Lupin could be considered … passably attractive."

A pause. His lip curled in evident ... revulsion, he thinks. Lupin, despite looking as though he has crawled out of a grave most mornings, somehow retains a certain … ugh, appeal. This particular humiliation could rot in the same locked chamber of his mind as every other thought that made him sick to admit.

In a weak moment. After several drinks. And a severe head injury.

He sneers, arms folding tightly across his chest, with a look that says, there, are you satisfied now?

And if his eyes happen to linger a moment too long when Lupin absentmindedly runs a hand through his hair, well.

That is nobody's concern but his own.

[potentialbreakupscng-a]

❗❗❗  for your muse to suddenly and unexpectedly kiss mine. - @lupiinee

since her confession, and him leaving -- she'd been tense. her hair had never returned to the bright pink it had been before. her patronus had surprised her -- she didn't realize they could change. she tried so hard to get it back to the jackrabbit it had been before. she didn't need the painful reminder that remus didn't want her. or refused to want her.

she was surprised he showed up when bill was attacked -- she knew the tension between them was evident. everyone knew what happened. why remus had been gone for so long. tonks knew shouldn't have said anything. she should have kept her mouth shut. one of her best friends had been attacked, and thankfully was still alive. his fiancee was worried about him, and even she got peeved at molly for suggesting that fleur would have felt any different for her fiancée. of course she wouldn't feel any different. she loved him. him getting bitten meant nothing to fleur.

it meant nothing to her either.

the only thing she regretted was the outburst there -- she shouldn't have made it about herself. it was about bill. her friend. one of the few true friends she actually had. she felt awful for turning it into the situation between her and remus -- it should have been about bill and him alone. and dumbledore. fuck. how -- could she let herself get so wrapped up in all of this love shit when there was so many other things that needed their attention? they had days to plan a funeral and get dumbledore buried. they had to frantically figure out... what was next. tonks decided to stay at hogwarts, teasing bill when he finally woke up and muttering to him about how she was so close to stealing his hot fiancee -- joking even when her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. she went with him back to the burrow.

and avoided remus at all costs.

it was late. everyone in the house was sleeping. well, mostly everyone. molly was still trying to force tonks to eat -- she hadn't been eating very well or very often because she hadn't had an appetite. she really only picked at whatever food they gave her. the tips of her fingers were destroyed. wrapped and bandaged up by pomphrey in the hospital wing earlier -- saying she needed to give them at least the evening to recover. even the bandages had been picked at, which moly had to swat her hands a few times -- even attempted to teach her how to knit to keep her hands busy -- but even then she couldn't get the handle on. her lower lip was next, and she stared into the fire as she curled up on the large sofa. a shell of herself really.

she glanced up when she heard arthur make molly stop bothering her and go up to their own rooms. leaving just her and remus alone in the living room. the last time they were left alone was the last time she had seen him. after confessing to him again and reducing herself to a woman who begged for him to just love her the way she knew that he loved her. she casted a glance over to him and swallowed when she felt her stomach lurch and a wave of sadness rush through her. this wasn't like her. to be so distraught over someone. she was better than that. stronger than that. but nothing hurt quite like this did.

"i'm going home," she muttered suddenly, pushing herself up from the sofa and moving to grab her combat boots to pull them on. she crouched down to string them up and tie them probably too tightly, then stood back to her full height. she licked her lips, wincing slightly as her tongue ran over an open gash that she'd been picking at. she refused to let herself fall apart because of him. not anymore. she tucked her wand into her boot and reached for the door, but was surprised when a hand on the door stopped her from leaving. she turned, her eyes widening when her head tipped back and she saw him over her.

she hated how her heart skipped a beat and her stomach lurched. she hated that she felt so strongly for him. she hated how fast her heart beat when she noticed him dipping down to get closer to her. she hated how she naturally rolled onto her toes to meet him halfway. tonks especially hated how good it felt to kiss him, how her body melted into him and how her fingers gripped onto the front of his shirt. her knuckles turned white with how hard she was gripping onto his shirt -- to keep herself from falling because of her naturally clumsy manner. her eyes fluttered closed -- and she couldn't even control the way her hair slowly melted from the brown it had been to a soft pink. she allowed herself to feel good for a few moments.

before she remembered she was angry.

hands that were fisted into his shirt turned into flat palms against his chest, shoving him away hard enough for him to be a few steps away from her. her hair turned a deep red, eyes flicking up to him with irises that matched the deep red of her hair. her hands balled into small fists -- to keep herself from slapping him.

"you don't -- you don't get to do that remus," her nostrils flared, and even with the anger surging through her, "you don't get to -- keep telling me that you can't be in love with me and can't be with me and then hours later just -- kiss me. that's not fair." tonks hated how her lips tingle after their kiss -- and how much she wanted to desperately kiss him again. she hated that she was reeled in so easily by him -- but there was no hatred for him. there never could be. anger. sadness.

but she could never hate him.

"you left," her voice was a whisper, and had her fingers not been bandaged up her nails would have been digging into her palms, "you left because it was such an unbearable thing for you to love me. that's -- you're -- it's not fair to make me miss you and then come back and argue with me again about how you think you're not good enough for me -- and then kiss me." her voice cracked and trembled, still angry but still feeling that deep sadness in the pit of her stomach.

"don't kiss me then tell me you can't love me. please. that's worse than just leaving."

[mugglebrn]

@lupiinee liked for a starter

"IT'S NO USE! I'm never going to get it!"