#priest Remus can GET IT

[vellichorbindery]

Here’s my take on Dear Your Holiness by the ever talented @mollymarymarie

This might be my fav wolfstar fic ever and I wanted to pay homage to my catholic raised self with a sacrilegious bind 😂✝️

Bible theme inspo from my dear friend Amanda.

Typeset created by yours trulyyyy.

Cross cutout was a bitch but so worth it for that gaudy look, yea?

Read on ao3 for FREEEEE.

[consciouscarrot]

day 11 - medical kink/doctor x patient [r.lupin]

remus lupin x fem!reader

content warnings; dub/con, innocence, abuse of power (remus), so many pet names, vaginal fingering, p in v, basically ‘hysteria’, very unrealistic loss of virginity (next to no pain mentions, remus doesn’t go slow etc), r thinks she’s been wetting herself slightly but she’s just horny and wet lol, age gap (r is 18, remus’ age is undisclosed but he’s a licensed doctor)

notes; (unintentionally) the longest fic i’ve even written by far, oh my god my thumbs hurt. all likes, comments and reblogs much appreciated. as always mdni

part 2

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

you’d been guided into the empty room at the doctors office by the bored receptionist, her muttering something about the doctor joining you soon, and to take a seat.

it had been a few minutes since then, you were sat carefully on one of the patients chairs, grasping nervously at the cross hanging between your breasts. the ticking of the clock only amplified your nerves, leg bouncing as you stared at the door, imaging all the ways this appointment could go wrong.

you jumped when the door opened, doctor lupin walked in, smiling widely as he shut and locked the door behind him.

“hello, it’s lovely to see you again, y/n,” he sat down at his chair, not taking his eyes off of you.

you nodded along, not trusting your voice just yet, nails now digging into your bare thighs, skirt shifting higher up your legs.

“now, i was told that you’d been having some female problems, could you tell me more about that?”

avoiding eye contact, you chewed on you lip before attempting to explain your embarrassing situation, “i- um, i’ve been having some- some weird feelings, y’know uh, down there,” you mumbled.

“okay, how long has this been going on for, hm?”

“a few weeks, maybe. it’s- it’s on and off though, not all the time,” what you refused to mention, was that whenever you were experiencing these feelings, was when you were thinking about your hot new doctor.

“yeah? so around the time that i saw you last? why didn’t you mention anything then, sweetheart? it seems to be bothering you an awful lot,”

oh my gosh, this was the most mortifying moment of your life. how on earth were you supposed to tell him that the weird sensations only started happening since you met him.

you’d had to change doctors after you moved house, still living at home with your parents, and had met dr lupin for a standard checkup. you’d instantly become a stuttering mess- much like you were now- at how attractive he was.

you weren’t sure how to answer his question, cheeks flaming, and almost sighed in relief when he clearly pitied you enough to ask something different.

“do you think you could describe what the weird feelings are like, honey? are they painful?” he asks, face twisted in concern.

“no they don’t hurt, it’s like- tingly, i think. feels throbby and uncomfortable. it um-,” you shifted in your seat, eyes locked on your mary-jane clad feet.

“it’s okay, take your time,”

“it makes me pee a little, i keep having to change my- my underwear,” you eyes began to sting in humiliation, knowing that if your parents found out that you’d been wetting yourself at the age of 18, they’d never speak to you again.

“sh, sh there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. are you sure it’s pee? or is it thicker, maybe a clearish-white?”

“yeah, it’s just like that, and it’s sticky too,”

“i think i know the problem, y/n. it’s easily treated, but you’ll need regular treatments with me to keep it contained, okay?” he wheeled his chair closer to his desk, typing something in his computer, nodding when you meekly said okay.

you were beyond relieved that you were going to be okay, that you wouldn’t have to confess your sins to the priest and your parents, that you could be cured by your nice doctor.

“alright, i need you to fully undress, get into this gown and lay down on the bed for me, then we can start the first session,” he gave you no room for arguments, handing you a pale blue hospital gown and turning back to his computer.

you shuffled over to the bed, slowly undressing and blanching at the thought of him seeing you borderline naked. your family were very christian and at a young age you had promised to never ruin yourself, especially not before marriage. you’d never been allowed any boyfriends growing up, always heavily punished if you’d been caught even looking at a boy for too long.

you’d since learnt your lesson, only having girl friends, steering clear of anyone outside of the church and keeping your head down in public. the idea that dr lupin would be seeing you down there, was enough to bring you close to tears.

you peered over your shoulder periodically, nervous that he’d turn around and catch a peep of your bare skin.

slipping into the gown, you climbed onto the bed, laying back as you called out to him that you were ready.

you watched dr lupin set up, snapping on his gloves and sanitising various terrifying looking equipment on his metal table.

“just need you to pop your feet in the stirrups, lovely girl,”

you carefully did as he said, legs spread wide and feeling oh so vulnerable, but terribly scared of disappointing him. you hated it, but a small part of you was loving the way his hands gripped your ankles when he strapped you in, murmuring reassurances about it being for everyone’s safety, thumb stroking along your delicate skin.

eventually, he stood between your legs, blue gloved hands hovering above your private parts, “is it okay if i start? i’ll need to touch you.”

you nodded your consent, breath hitching as he made contact with your very inner thigh, fingertips sliding closer to where the problem originated, his eyes never leaving the area.

“are you having those feelings now? you’re all wet, love,”

a tear finally slipped free, cooling your burning cheeks as you turned your head away, shame consuming you.

“oh baby, it’s okay, i’m gonna help you, you want me to make you feel better?”

you nodded, finally looking up at him with salty tears glittering in your pretty eyes, wanting nothing more than this horrible feeling to go away. you wanted dr lupin to make you all better.

his digits glide over your pussy, your warm slick coating them. you whimper when he hits your sensitive clit, legs twitching in response. the taste of iron coated your tongue, biting down as a pathetic effort to try and keep quiet, mindful of other patients in the waiting room just down the hall.

he slowly started circling it, free hand going to press at your throbbing hole, “fuck, you really aren’t very well, are you poppet? s’alright, i have just the thing to make you feel good again, it’ll fix you right up,”

you cried out when a finger entered you, tight walls spasming around the foreign object. sobbing and shaking, so overcome with pleasure with him working you up to your fast approaching orgasm. you let out a sharp gasp, confused as to what was happening to your body. you were losing control of your movements, and you began to worry that you were being possessed by a demon.

those thoughts were cleared from your mind when you came with a squeal, thighs closing around his hands in an effort to get the overwhelming pleasure to stop. you were astounded that something medical could feel so amazing, or even that it was possible to feel like this at all. you felt very lucky that you had such a good doctor, even if he made you feel flustered.

already, the feeling deep in your belly was starting to be satiated, but you really hoped that there would be more treatment today, as it still lingered and you desperately needed to feel that bliss again.

when he pulled his fingers away, he could see the white substance ringed around them, arousal fluid still connecting your heat to him in strings. his erection was pulsing against his trousers, dampening the fabric there as he tried to hold back from corrupting you too much.

oh well, too late now.

he whispered praises to you, rubbing your thighs and smearing your cum all over them as he tried to calm you down, smiling softly when you reopened your eyes.

“that was intense, huh? you did so well for me, just need one more from you, then you’re all done for today. i know, it’s a lot, but it’s really important that we fully complete the treatment, especially seeing as you shook so much,”

you nodded hazily, head much too clouded in pleasure to be able to take in what he was saying. you’d never felt that good in your life, and you supposed that it was a good thing that you’d gone to the doctors first instead of the priest, feeling much better already.

still so caught up in your mind, you didn’t pay any attention to what dr lupin was doing, not noticing him snapping off his gloves before unbuckling his belt and pulling out his reddened cock.

“this piece of equipment is really gonna make a lot of difference in your recovery,” he said, rubbing his tip along your puffy entrance, groaning quietly when it caught, slipping inside slightly.

you moaned loudly when he finally pushed in, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the mixture of pleasure and pain.

dr lupin had to hold still for a moment, trying to hold back from giving you a creampie already at the sight of your virgin blood staining his cock, pearly white and crimson mixing to create a rosy pink that coated him.

checking that you were doing okay, he pulled out until only his tip was left inside of you. fingers grasping at your waist, hard enough that he knew it would leave plum coloured bruising, remus gave you no warning before he began to pound into you, letting out guttural groans as your back arched off the bed.

the clinical paper ripped beneath you, his hips slapping against you, the two of you moaned, fully giving up on staying quiet, getting lost in the feel of each other.

his rough hands grabbed at your ass, tugging you towards him with each thrust, sweat collecting along his hairline. his eyes switched between looking at your face and your pussy, tears still spilling over with a heated face, pussy covered in your shared fluids, throbbing around him.

feeling your high building up again, he held back his own, wanting to finally release together, he lifted a hand off of your ass, circling steadily over your little button to push you over the edge.

the band coiling inside of you finally snapped, and you whimpered as you squirmed around, body shaking uncontrollably. your nails dug into the sides of the bed, trying to hold on as he worked you through your orgasm, groaning out as he too let go.

you felt his hot cum spurting inside of you, moaning at the new feeling, praying internally that this would never end. your previously arched back fell down as your orgasm ended, aftershocks still wracking your body. you were happy that he had gotten to feel this good too, even if you didn’t understand what that fluid was, or why he’d felt pleasure as well.

breathless, his body involuntarily folded itself over in exhaustion, slumping down onto yours. he tried to catch his breath, feeling your chest expand and collapse underneath his face, heart beating wildly.

he slid he cock out of you, and you were just about lucid enough to notice this time that the piece of equipment was attached to his body. you thought it was quite handy to have something so useful joined onto him, wondering if that was a part of the training to become a doctor.

hot cum poured out of your abused hole, trailing down onto the ripped up clinical paper, soaking the already damp material. remus pulled it out from under you, binning it before grabbing a couple of baby wipes from a nearby drawer.

“good girl, did amazing for me, baby. y’might just be my best patient,”

he wiped you down, soothing you when you jolted from the cold feeling of the wipes, unstrapping your ankles, then guiding you into slowly standing and redressing, turning away when necessary but occasionally peering over his shoulder to catch glimpses of your pretty body.

“i think we’ll book you in for another session, let’s say two days from now? is 6:00pm alright with you?” he asked when you were ready to leave.

you quickly agreed, already excited for the next appointment. he helped you out to the car park where your parents were already waiting for you, ignoring the dirty look the receptionist gave the two of you, patiently holding you up as you stumbled along, before subtly patting at your bum, telling you that he can’t wait to see you again.

part 2

[goldenprophetwrites]

modern + no magic au wolfstar fic recs

posted some fic recs over on twitter so i figured why not share them here as well :)

(gonna tag the authors whose tumblr handles i know, lmk if you know any others)

kidfics:

Family Vacation by @sliebman10

Extra Credit by @languagelessonswolfstar

fake dating:

The Remus Lupin Boyfriend Experience by @chlobliviate

and if we keep going by the feeling (we can get by) by midnightone

every christmas from now on by mandarino_o

fame au:

wading in waist-high water by @colgatebluemintygel

sway through the crowd (to our empty space) by @littleoldrachel

For Love or Monet by deathcabformoony

The Road Not Taken by @mollymarymarie

When You Open Your Legs by @kaaaaaaarf

SDCC Panel | Marauders: Managers of Mischief by nerdniche

age gap:

Therein is Love, Therein Desire by @tealeavesandtrash

the inconveniences in our favour by @magicbeings

Maybe this time is different (I really think you like me) by @fiddleleafedfig

hot priests:

Dear Your Holiness by MollyMaryMarie (tagged above)

Where There Is Love, There Is Faith by @veganbutterchicken

pwp:

come (on the common tongue) by @quiethauntings

they call it the cockpit by epicblueblanket (tagged above)

White Knuckle Ride by @midnighttomoscow (with art by @rottensouldier )

no specific category:

How Remus Got His Groove Back by RealityShowJunky

Why Not Me? by Mimifreed

combos:

fame au + fake dating:

Step & Repeat by @theresthesnitch

kidfic + fame au:

Dear Mr. Black by MsAlexWP (tagged above)

kidfic + age gap:

I'm Waiting Here for You by @ohyou-pretty-things

kidfic + exes to lovers:

Of Memories and Milk Thievery by moonymoment

[dreamsatsunrise]

margins of the heart

// part two

remus lupin x muggle!reader ⊹ strangers (to friends) to lovers / slowish burn ⊹ 2.5k

The dawn creeps in like a guilty secret, all bruised purples and blues. The sun is soft, but to your throbbing head it might as well be a searchlight piercing through the curtains, transforming the tender morning into a merciless interrogation. Lily groans, her voice muffled by the weight of last night’s champagne laughter. You, sprawled on her floor in a nest of discarded sequins and tangled blankets, can only whimper in response.

The memories of the club still flicker behind your eyelids. Your birthday has always been an event, a sacred tradition stretching back to childhood sleepovers with Lily and Sophie, who adopted you in the second week of primary school like a pair of gap-toothed guardian angels.

(Their initiation involved sharing their custard creams and then declaring you ‘best friends forever’ - a bond that survived the Great High School Schism that scattered you across three different institutions and that time you accidentally turned Petunia’s hair Pepto-Bismol pink.)

This year is no exception, only now the rituals have evolved into something more potent: smoky-eyed and reckless, a blur of lipstick-stained glasses. Petunia, of course, was invited, but she’s off sunning herself in Palma with her new beau, Vernon. Their loss.

The evening had begun, as all great nights do, with pre-game at Lily's flat.

You’d arrived to find the living room transformed into a makeshift salon, the air thick with the scent of hairspray. Sophie sat cross-legged at the coffee table, her tongue caught between her teeth as she carefully applied false lashes to Lily’s already fluttering eyes. Lily, for her part, held unnervingly still, her reflection in the handheld mirror a study in determination like a soldier preparing for battle (if soldiers wore liquid eyeliner).

“You’re late,” Sophie had said by way of greeting, not looking up from her delicate work.

“I’m fashionably late,” you’d corrected, dumping your bag on the sofa and narrowly avoiding crushing a half-empty bottle of wine.

“You’re annoyingly late,” Lily muttered, her voice strained from the effort of not blinking. “We’ve been waiting for ages. Sophie’s already done my base, and I look flawless.”

Sophie had snorted at that, dabbing a speck of glue from Lily’s cheekbone with artful precision. “You look like you’ve been tango-ing with a highlighter palette, but sure, let’s go with flawless.”

The next hour had passed in a blur of cocktails before Sophie, who had the organisational skills of a military general and the patience of a particularly irritable wasp, insisted on doing your makeup while Lily draped various articles of clothing over your shoulders.

“No,” she’d said decisively, yanking a silky jumpsuit off you before you’d even had time to admire yourself in the mirror.

“I like this one!” you’d protested.

“And I like you,” Lily had shot back, “which is why I’m not letting you leave the house in it.”

In the end, you’d settled on a black minidress that Sophie had produced from the depths of Lily's wardrobe like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat. “Ta-da,” she’d said, grinning. “I'd say don’t spill anything on it, but - spill everything on it, because it’s your birthday and rules don’t apply.”

The club was a fever dream of strobe lights and sticky floors. Sophie, who had reapplied her lipstick five times in the Uber, descended upon you both in a hurricane of glitter. "We’re getting properly wrecked," she’d declared, slamming a tequila shot into Lily’s hand before you’d even made it past the bouncer. Somewhere after midnight, as you spilled out onto the pavement, breathless and laughing, Lily had grabbed you both and declared, "We need food. And possibly a priest to absolve us of our sins."

That's how you'd ended up at a twenty four hour Italian place that didn't bat an eye at three drunk girls ordering garlic bread and a bottle of their cheapest Prosecco at two thirty in the morning. You'd taken a table at the window, kicking off your heels and piling your handbags in the middle like a fort protecting you from adulthood.

"This," you’d announced with the profound wisdom only tequila can provide, "is the best birthday ever."

You’d clinked glasses so hard Sophie’s had shattered, prompting a round of applause from the kitchen staff.

But that memory feels like a lie.

Because now there’s a knock at the door, the sound an assault that cracks through your skull like a gavel.  You roll onto your side and the world tilts, your stomach lurching in sour protest.

“Oh, god,” you mutter into your pillow. “I think I’m dying.”

Next to you, Lily lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a cry. “Same.”

There’s another knock - three precise, mocking raps - followed by the unmistakable sound of James Potter’s voice calling, “Rise and shine, sleeping beauties! Or, given the state of this flat, just rise. Shining seems.. optimistic.”

Lily grumbles, louder this time. “Go away.”

James strolls in with the energy of a man who’d spent the night doing yoga instead of funnelling neon cocktails under a disco ball, his glasses perched on his nose as he surveys the wreckage of you both with undisguised amusement.

“Wow,” he says. “You two look rough.”

Lily flips him off.

James sits on the edge of the bed, watching you both with the kind of fondness usually reserved for particularly ridiculous pets. “Do I get a debrief, or do I have to piece it together from the evidence?” He nudges a stray sequin with his toe. “Because this looks like the aftermath of an explosion.”

Lily takes a long, fortifying sigh before speaking. “She threw up in a potted plant.”

“Classy.”

“Then lost her shoes.”

“Predictable.”

You groan, but before you can wallow further, Lily’s phone buzzes. She grabs it, squinting at the screen. “Ugh. Sophie wants to know if we’re still alive.”

James stretches, glancing at his watch. “Speaking of - you were supposed to meet us for lunch in an hour, remember?”

Lily blanches. “There is no way I’m leaving this flat today.”

“Figured as much,” James says, pulling out his own phone. “Which is why I already told the lads we’re changing plans. Pizza here instead. Less movement required on your part.”

Lily looks at him with something dangerously close to adoration. “Marry me.”

James winks. “Planning on it.”

You scoff, but there's no real heat in it. They’re nauseatingly endearing, yes, but that’s not what has your pulse stuttering. No, the real problem is the casual certainty in James’s reply.

The lads. Plural.

Which means -

Remus.

A bolt of pure, undiluted panic shoots through you.

Your fingers flutter nervously to your tousled hair, suddenly hyperaware of every wayward curl and the faint trace of last night's mascara that has strayed beneath your lashes. The thought of him seeing you like this, so thoroughly undone, ignites a slow heat beneath your skin that has nothing to do with your hangover.

"Someone’s eager," she murmurs, voice sweet with mischief, as she notices your subtle fidgeting. "Or should I say someone-specific-ly eager?"

"I don't know what you mean," you lie terribly as you slip toward the bathroom, Lily's giggles following you like a gentle tide.

The mirror greets you with merciless clarity. Last night’s liner lingers in smudged crescents and there’s a small, wine-dark bruise blooming just above your collarbone, no doubt a souvenir from some forgotten collision in the haze of the club.

In short, you look like a woman who has not planned on seeing the object of her very secret crush today.

You turn the shower as hot as you can stand it and scrub yourself raw, as if you can wash away not just the sweat and smoke but also the nerves coiling in your stomach. When you emerge, you attack your reflection with single-minded determination - toner, moisturiser, a hurried swipe of mascara. You borrow Lily's vanilla perfume, dabbing it at your wrists, your throat, the hollows behind your ears.

Bracing your palms against the edge of the sink, the cold porcelain bites into your skin as you take one last inventory in the fog-streaked mirror. The shower has steamed up the tiny bathroom, clinging to your damp skin as you wrestle your hair into something resembling order, twisting the strands into a haphazard bun that already threatens to unravel.

Not glamorous, exactly, but a marked improvement. No longer a certifiable disaster, merely adorably disheveled.

Taking a deep breath, you press your ear to the bathroom door. The flat beyond is a symphony of chaos with James’s booming laughter, the clatter of plates, Sirius’s off-key humming over the scratchy vinyl he’s undoubtedly plucked from Lily’s collection. Normal, survivable.

Except Remus Lupin stands in the kitchen looking unfairly, infuriatingly handsome. He has one ankle crossed over the other, a chipped blue mug cradled in his hands, steam curling around his face in a wisp.

“Happy belated birthday,” he says as you make a beeline for the cafetière. He sounds like melted butter dripping over toast, all golden and far too lovely before noon.

You look down, suddenly self-conscious. “Thanks. Though I’m not sure I deserve congratulations for making it through my own party.”

Remus laughs a crinkly-eyed laugh that makes your heart ache. “I’d say surviving is an accomplishment worth celebrating.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a croissant, slightly misshapen from its journey, wrapped in a crumpled bakery bag. “Peace offering.”

The pastry is still warm when you pull it from the bag. You take a bite and actually whimper, a sound that would have been embarrassing if not for the way Remus's eyes darken ever so slightly as he watches your mouth.

"Good?" he asks, voice gone a shade deeper.

"Transcendent," you breathe around a mouthful of flaky perfection. "I think I just saw my entire life flash before my eyes. All my past mistakes. All my future regrets. That time in third year when I -"

Remus reaches out suddenly, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. "You've got -" His touch lingers for half a heartbeat too long, just enough to send a spark skittering down your spine. "Glaze. Right there."

The kitchen air grows thick with something sweet and unspoken. You realise how long it’s been since a boy’s touch has felt this way; not careless or accidental, but as though you were something precious. The ghost of his thumb lingers like a question and you wish you had the courage to curl your fingers into his sleeve and ask him to do it again.

"You're staring," he murmurs, taking a sip of his tea to hide what you suspect is a smile, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

"You're.." You gesture vaguely at all of him with your croissant. "Existing. Very loudly. In my general vicinity."

His eyebrows climb toward his hairline. "I'm existing loudly?"

"Extremely," you confirm, taking another bite to avoid saying something truly ridiculous like I think about the sound of your voice more than is strictly healthy.

Remus sets his mug down with deliberate care, ceramic clicking against the countertop. "You know," he says slowly, "for someone who was allegedly near death an hour ago, you're remarkably.."

"Charming? Witty? Devastatingly attractive despite circumstances?"

"I was going to say verbal," he jokes.

You start to argue back, but Sirius Black bursts in, loud and unstoppable. No warning, just noise.

"There you are!" he declares, throwing an arm around Remus’s shoulders. "We’re doing a pizza census: pepperoni or margherita? James is threatening to order pineapple, and I refuse to let that crime against Italy happen without a democra-" Sirius stops mid-sentence, his gaze darting between you.

His grin turns positively wolfish. "Oh. Oh."

Remus sighs as if he knows exactly what's coming. "Don't."

"I didn't say anything!" Sirius holds up his hands in mock surrender, backing toward the doorway. "Just that it's fascinating how you two are standing approximately three inches apart when the kitchen is, by my estimation, twelve feet wide -"

"Out," Remus says flatly.

Sirius winks at you. "Happy birthday, darling," he purrs, executing a flawless half-bow. "And a word to the wise. Should our resident scholar here attempt to woo you with verse, do be warned. He's got brooding down pat, but tends to inherit a tragic taste for melancholy."

The door swings shut behind him, leaving you in charged silence.

Remus runs a hand through his hair, making that one stubborn curl bounce adorably. "I hate all of my friends."

"You love them."

"I tolerate them at best." He glances at you through his lashes. "Present company excluded, of course."

The pizza is cold by the time anyone remembers to eat it. The remains of your chocolate cake sit half-devoured on the table, its frosting smudged by careless forks, crumbs like dark confetti. The room smells of sugar and you're far too happy for how hungover you feel. Sirius has commandeered the remote with the air of a man who considers bad cinema a sacred duty, and now some absurd rom-com flickers across the screen, its dialogue lost beneath the group’s running commentary.

You aren’t watching it anyway.

You’re watching him.

Remus sits beside Peter, one arm draped along the back of the couch. He’s laughing at something James has said, his head tipped back just slightly, the lamplight catching the curve of his throat. You trace the lines of him like a map you’re trying to memorise - the crooked hitch of his mouth as Sirius fumbles another joke; the quiet, private exhale that isn’t quite a sigh.

When the movie ends in a flurry of terrible dialogue and inexplicable confessions the room erupts once more.

“Right,” Sirius declares, stretching like a cat in a sunbeam. “Pub.”

James, who has somehow ended up with his head in Lily’s lap, crosses his arms over his chest in protest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Lily flicks his forehead but doesn’t push him away. “Fine. You can stay. But if you snore, you're on the sofa.”

James grins up at her, shameless. “Deal.”

Peter adjusts his scarf with exaggerated dignity, turning to the rest of you. “Pub, then?”

The word hangs in the air, a punctuation mark to the night. You should go home. You’re exhausted, your feet still ache from last night’s heels, but the thought of leaving now, of this moment dissolving into goodbye, lingers in your ribs like a stuck chord.

Remus hesitates, his hands tucked into his pockets in that way he does when he’s choosing his words carefully. His gaze flicks to you. “Will you come?”

You shake your head, suddenly hyperaware of the weight of the day pressing against your bones. “I think I’m done. Going to hibernate.”

He nods, but doesn’t move. The others are already spilling into the hallway, Peter's laughter echoing off the walls, but Remus lingers, one shoulder braced against the doorframe.

Sirius whistles from the stairwell - “Moony, stop dawdling!” - and the silence fractures.

But instead of leaving, Remus does something unexpected. He steps closer and pulls out his phone.

"Here," he says, holding it out to you. "Put your number in."

You type your name carefully, adding a little heart next to it before you can stop yourself. When you hand it back, his smile is small, just for you. Then, your own phone buzzes in your hand.

You look down. A new message from an unsaved number:

Unknown: In case you ever need another squashed pastry.

[rudamaruda520]

Marauders in the confessional

James the type of guy to confess all his deepest secrets, sins, and thoughts, completely opening up his soul only to find out the priest wasn't there

Sirius the type of guy to say "God said Adam AND Eve, not Adam OR Eve, you know?"

Peter the type of guy to hotbox himself and the priest inside

Remus the type of guy to use the priest as a free therapist, cause he is forbidden to reveal his secrets to anyone

Barty the type of guy to say "This is a place full of glory and yet I can not see any glory hole..."

Evan the type of guy to hide on the priest side and listen to people confessions

Mary the type of girl to snog with a nun in there

Marlene the type of girl to come up with such outrageous sins to see if it's possible to not receive absolution and get banned from the church

Dorcas the type of girl to make the priest confess his sins to her

(I had to much fun with the last one, so here's another one!

Fill in the gaps with the rest of them, and/or add your own versions <33)

[thebestofoneshots]

Hi love just wondering when the priest Remus fic will be out? I LOVE LOVE your writing and I am so excited for this one

I truly hope It's this Friday! Especially with the GC chapter we're going to have, I feel like you guys deserve a little compensation. If I can't manage though, it will surely be next week.

Now, and to build more excitement, a little teaser:

NO SWEETER INNOCENCE THAN OUR GENTLE SIN | TEASER

Pairing: Priest!Remus x reader Prompt: You did not want to go to church that day, but your spirits are uplifted when you meet Father Remus, and your mind starts creating a mischievous scheme, to both retaliate over those years of being forced to go and take something from them. Alternatively, R is really mad at the church and decides to steal one of their priests for it (but also kind of falls for him). Warnings: The complete story will contain smut. Innocence! Kink, allusion to fingering and self-pleasure. Reader is seducing a catholic priest and has a bit of a corruption!kink. Smut under the cut.

After the mass was over, you waited a few minutes before leaving the church “accidentally” bumping into him again. “Remus,” you said with a smile. “We seem to continue bumping into each other,” you added as you leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek to his, making a low smacking sound, and then repeating on the other side. He looked bewildered at the contact. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I got this habit while I was in France and I still haven’t shaken it off completely.” 

“Oh… No, no,” hesitant, bashful, you loved every bit of it. “Not at all, it’s fine. You can greet me however you like.” 

“Is that privilege reserved to me, or does every other parishioner have it?” He seemed taken aback by your words. “I’m joking, Remus,” you added and placed your hand on his arm, before pulling it back tentatively. “Your mass was wonderful.” 

“Thank you, I’m lucky to work at Saint Gryffin.” 

“The way I see it, Saint Griffin is lucky to have you. I mean lots of women come here to see beautiful priest Remus.” 

“You think?” he asked. Remus didn’t exactly consider himself handsome, he thought his scars would scare people away rather than attract them. But he sometimes failed to see past them and didn’t pay attention to his beautiful eyes, to his charming smile, to his long lashes, or to his well-toned frame. It was as if he had been craved by Michael Angelo himself, from your perspective.

“For sure,” you replied. “Take a closer look at the way they look at you on Sunday and you’ll see.” He blushed, a deeper shade of red than your Nan had pulled out of him, you resisted the urge to bite your lip and smiled instead. “Today was lovely, I’ll see you around,” you said before waving goodbye and leaving exiting the church. 

You went again a week later, Remus would sometimes lose his focus on the bible and look at you instead. That day you had chosen a skirt. Nothing too short or indecent, but certainly short enough to allow your legs to be seen and admired. An older man hadn’t stopped staring at you throughout the mass, and you would have perhaps told him off if it hadn’t been for the fact that Remus had been in a similar position.

Remus’ distraction, his hesitance and his constant turning to you were enough to drive your attention away from the man and onto him. You would smile, and you would nod, and you would pretend to be a supportive little lamb. Innocent, and meek and kind. Just what he expected from you. And it was that Wednesday, the third time that you’d met him, that you realised you had him right where you wanted him to be. 

He for sure had a thing for you, be it curiosity, admiration, or a small crush. You had gotten his atention, and you had gotten into his mind. Now all you needed was to have him.

(...)

The next Wednesday you had been late, you had allowed your hair to be slightly dishevelled and your cheeks were warm, despite the autumn getting colder. You had bitten your lips and you looked like you had just gotten away from a dire situation. You’d done it on purpose. When his gaze fell on you he almost stopped talking completely. He staggered to complete his words and you nodded for him to go on. When he was done, he rushed out, and you stayed in your seat. Eyes closed and hands clasping each other, pretending to pray. 

That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, he whispered your name. “Are you okay, Little Lamb?” 

It took a real effort not to laugh at his nickname. Not because you thought it was stupid, but because you were so far from a lamb that you might as well have been the wolf that ate it. You turned to him, fake distress clouding your features, “I’ve done something terrible, Remus.” 

He was kind, almost impossibly so, it almost made you want to stop your plan and leave him the pure man he was. 

almost.

“I’m sure there’s nothing you could do, that was as bad as you’ve described.” 

“I’d like to confess,” you said. “Would you take my confession?” 

Remus seemed hesitant, biting his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hear your confession, not when he wanted to maintain a personal relationship with you, not when he’d develop a crush. But it was in your preoccupied gaze, in the small frown that etched your features, in the way your lips curved down and in the bobbing of your throat as you swallowed. How ever could he deny you? 

Oh, those thoughts would be the ones that would drag him into sin, nay, not drag, but rather, waft him into it. If Remus hadn’t been so enamoured by you, perhaps it would have proved a harder task to accomplish for you. 

“Okay,” he said simply. And helped you stand. Guiding you towards the empty confessionary and sitting in his spot as you opened the door to the other one. It was a narrow place, enough for you to sit. There was a screen dividing the two of you, you couldn’t see him, but you suspected he could see you. And there was a small, square hole in between, enough to fit perhaps a hand. You assumed it was there in case you’d like to give something to the priest, as a thank you. 

Remus cleared his throat, and in the most professional way he could muster he said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. My child, what brings you to the sacrament of confession today?”

His voice had been different, stronger as if he was trying not to be himself. You loved it. “Father, I come seeking forgiveness for my sins. I have strayed from the path of righteousness and I seek reconciliation,” you let your voice bend and crack near the end. 

 “I am here to listen, my child. Let us begin with a moment of reflection. Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess.” 

You held back the smirk that threatened to appear when he said that, just in case he was actually able to see you. “I have fallen in love with a man I cannot have.” 

“Oh, darling,” he said, that was Remus, not Father Remus. You had cracked through his façade and you hadn’t even started. “That is not a sin. It’s happened to the best of us.” 

“But it is a sin the way I think of him, Father,” you responded. You heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t speak further. “I have dreamt of him, of his lips, of his eyes with long lashes, the way his hair frames his face, of his beautiful and strong hands–“ Remus tried not to be jealous of the man you described, but everything about him seemed perfect, and unlike himself, he probably could have you. Your beautiful lips, and eyes, focused solely on him. He hated the guy already. “–sliding between my legs, and touching me.” 

“Do not speak further,” there was an edge of alarm in his voice. A bit of a broken end to it. 

“Oh but Father I must,” you said. “If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll act upon my feelings in the same way I did today while thinking of him.” 

“You…” he hesitated. “You touched yourself… Is that why you’re here?” 

“Yes,” you replied with a frown, almost a wince, all of it an act, of course. 

“Pray Our Father 10 times and–“ 

“No! Allow me to relate my story, Father,” he tried to stop you. “I must, I must, or then I might go to him and offer myself in a terrible, ungodly manner and then I won’t ever be deserving of the church ever again.”

Frankly, you didn’t even know how you’d gotten so inspired, but Remus relented, nodding and when he realised you hadn’t heard, he bit his cheek and said. “Go on then.” 

You sighed, that was a real sigh, you weren’t sure you’d get this far. “I had a dream of him father. He was handsome as ever, and he looked at me, with such kind eyes, with such loving eyes, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t stop him.” 

Remus was already praying for himself. He did not want to imagine you in your bed, your hair sprawled over the pillow and your mind away in a dream, kissing another man. 

(…)

Remus’ boner was straining against his pants in a way that was almost painful. He wanted to let go, he wanted to set him free and chase his own pleasure at your words. At how he pictured you in your bed, sweaty and sighing as you touched yourself. You were so beautiful, he found innocence even in the way you sinned. 

“And then there was bliss, I thought I was dead and had gone to heaven, but I came back, vision cloudy and disoriented. My bedsheets were sticky with my juices and I had to change them. I’ve been in a permanent state of shame ever since then.” 

“Let us pray for your forgiveness,” Remus said. And my own, he thought. Now not only your sheets had been stained, but so had his pants, just from hearing you. You would have relished on the knowledge if you’d had it. 

“Thank you, Father,” you said as you stood. 

“Pray tell me child, whoever is this man that has you in such an altered state of mind?” 

Got him! you thought as you turned your gaze to the confessionary. And almost in a whisper, you murmured. “Well, it’s you, Remus.” 

Read More Marauders Fiction Here

No sweeter innocence than our gentle sin will be out soon!

Tag list open (Just tell me if you want to be added)

[whorediaries-09]

don't blame me;

pairing- priest!remus lupin x reader warning(s)- illusions to sex, dark themes. (let me know if i should add more). [this is a dark fic. your media consumption is your choice and i'm not responsible for it. please do not continue under cut if you're uncomfortable.] a/n- i found this in my drafts. i have no idea why this wasn't published yet but okay.

ps- not using my regular taglist since this is a topic many people can be uncomfortable with.

little train inspiration (for god's sake please use headphones) 700 followers celebration post.

' and baby, for you, i would fall from grace, just to touch your face. '

remus slowly read the verse, the thick spine of the bible tucking into the flesh of his thighs.

'amen,' he said, speaking his final lines of the verse. the sound from his lips was blinded over the noise of the hinges of the church door opening. he snapped his head, eyes darting towards the entrance. the soft sunlight peaked through the glass, creating a beautiful kaleidoscopic effect.

'hello?' his voice echoed through the empty church. when his eyes met yours, he couldn't stop but dawn his eyes upon yours. you were clad in the white clothes you regularly wore when you went to the church. but there was something different around it. perhaps an extra sinch at the waist which highlighted the curve of your breasts. or was it the sunlight behind you making a halo like effect which made you look like an descending from heaven.

'oh, it's you,' he gathered, his fingers raking over the bible, closing the hardcover. 'come on in, then,'

'am i interrupting anything?' you asked. your voice was soft, like cool breeze blowing after the first rainfall. he chuckled.

'no, no you're not interrupting anything,' his statement ended, clashed with the sound of the door closing. you walked towards him, twiddling with your thumbs, your eyes transfixed on the statue of jesus.

'do you need something? i can leave you in peace if you prefer.' he said, standing up and dusting his clothes. he wasn't wearing his usual robes. he had opted for gray slacks paired with a soft blue shirt.

'no it's fine,' you walked towards him. 'i actually like some company, when i pray,' he smiled, his gaze smoothening down on your form.

'no no, i understand,' he said walking towards you, his thumb raking over the rosemary beads in his palm. 'lots of people prefer company in the church. physical company anyway. he,' his index pointed towards the stature of jesus, 'is always here.'

'a constant companion,' you said, recalling his words from a few months ago. 'i remember that. you enlightened me with that information during our gospel interpretation session.' he chuckled softly,

'i'm surprised you remember i said that. that was quite a few months ago,' you nodded, twisting your fingers together.

'speaking of which,' he whispered, so as to not let his voice echo. 'erm, you have been missing for a few weeks.' you stare at him, your eyes glossy.

'are you mad? that i've been missing?' he moves forward, waving his hands quickly reassuring,

'no no, not mad at all. i just,' he pauses, as if choosing his words carefully, 'missed your presence. and our discussions afterwards.' you let his words register into your senses. it's quiet as the sun settles, the blue hue of the sky meddling into a beautiful orange.

'there are other people who come to the church, mr. lupin.' he takes a deep breathe. it's serene, the way his name spills off your tongue.

'yes, but it gets quite boring with the same old people and the same old interpretations. you're intelligent...you're curious. i enjoy your fresh air of understanding.'

'you don't mean that.' you laugh. he sighs, letting his tongue dart over his teeth.

'oh no, i mean that,' he twiddles with his thumb, running his fingers through his locks with his other hand. he rubs his neck, drawing your attention to a small patch of ink on his neck.

'may i ask you the reason of your absence? it's none of my business of course,' his stale amber eyes pierce into you, as if trying to scan for answers.

'i got a few days off work. so i wanted to go on a little vacation.' you say.

'oh, i see, i'm glad you're out there having some fun. i'd do the same in your position. especially with the weather we've been having recently,' he emphasizes. his eyes wander about, as if searching for words, looking for phrases to let the conversation continue. 'i understand your need for freedom.'

you let the words hang in the air, tasting the freshness of the newly spoken sentences. you watch his nicely polished shoes, before you bite your tongue, meeting his eyes, allowing yourself to drown in the burnt amber color of them.

'do you mind it? the freedom? the fun?' he stands silent, as if speechless. it was extremely difficult to keep a man like remus lupin dumbfoundedly silent.

'no,' he says, 'i don't particularly mind it. i've...dedicated my life to this... this is my calling.' he laughs a little, a bark like laughter echoing through the walls. 'besides, i live my life through hearing your escapades.'

'i think you should live life a little. i'm saying this because i consider you my friend.'

'you do?' he says, softly biting his beautiful pink lips. 'well i consider you a friend too.' you nod.

'not many, erm, consider me other than someone who's a priest or think of any... friendly interactions, so... i appreciate that very much.'

you twiddle with your thumb, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. your mind floods with screams as you think of the next question you want to ask him. your heart thumps loudly in your chest, the heat of the blood curving through every inch of your body.

'can i ask you a question?'

'of course, you can ask me anything.'

'have you kissed anyone before?' it's vague, short yet straight forward. a slight pink tint overcomes his pale skin, his tongue tying up in knots before he processes his answer.

'oh, i- yes. i have kissed people before.' he licks his lips. 'though, in secret. we're not...uh meant to have relationships but... everybody needs company...sometimes.' you hum softly at his answer, minutely surprised at the lack of a reaction. then, you frame your next question, almost like a child so free of sin. you are, if partly so.

'do you consider it a bad thing mr. lupin?'

'no,' he laughs. 'i don't consider it a bad thing. i enjoy your curiosity.' he moves forward, a few painful inches away from you. it's as if he can feel the heat from your body. he enjoys it. 'and, neither do i think you're going to tell on me or anything, but yes, i have had companies of a different nature, too.'

the gasp ends in your throat. it's as if he reads your mind.

'i'm not such an extremist that i condemn that kind of thing. carnal desires are...human. the lord created us with them. so why should we deny ourselves?'

'isn't it wrong? a sin? perhaps you... don't mean it.' you say.

'no, i do mean it. to want intimacy is such an intricately human thing it isn't...wrong to want it or engage in it.'

'i've wanted intimacy, desired for it. for so long, mr. lupin, but i find myself stranded. because nobody expresses it back. perhaps you can tell me how it feels, with your experience of the humane carnal desire for intimacy,'

'oh.. well we've established that we're friends but... is that really something you should be asking a priest? you're a curious little thing aren't you?' you smile paired with a little nod of your head. you truly are curious.

'well,' he pauses, looking into your eyes, trying to search for something. 'if you must know, i haven't had any complaints. i've been told i give a rather...satisfactory performance.' he laughs. 'but, it has been quite some time.'

'oh. how long?'

'almost eight months so uh..nearly about a year, roughly,' he whispers, as you move closer. you're close enough for his warm breath fan over you, letting goosebumps kiss your skin.

'i think... i'll also be a satisfactory performer in bed,' you say. he laughs his eyebrow tilting.

'oh you think you are? your confidence is very cute.' he says, moving closer. you watch his pupils dilate, as the distance decreases between your bodies. something takes over him, as his breathing turns erratic, his heart palpitating. 'although,' he continues, 'the matter of one's performance in bed is highly subjective.'

'i can show you, the performance. i want to feel the intimacy, how it feels to be wanted, mr. lupin.' you say, almost begging. his hands twitch and your body aches for the touch of someone you've never felt before.

'i guess i'm sure you would like to find out, but...we shouldn't... we really shouldn't,' he feels his nerves turning shoddy as tries to not drown into the depth of your eyes. he says it, trying to convince himself more than you. but how can he when you look so pretty, like dew strewn across fresh grass. you jut out your lower lip.

'don't you find me pretty mr. lupin?' his eyes widen, his palm cradling your cheek. his thumb runs over your cheek and he enjoys the warm flush of your skin upon his touch, the goosebumps on your kissing every inch of your body.

'no, you are very beautiful. i mean it. apart from your intelligence, your beautiful mind is what...drew me to you.' he watches you melt into his touch and words and knits his eyebrows. 'but, we can't, we really can't, someone could just walk in.'

perhaps that's what excites you. the idea of someone walking in, the idea of somebody catching you. perhaps it's the sin that excites you.

'please,' you beg, your eyes glossy with an unsatiated lust, the carnal desire for intimacy, for his touch. 'please, remus, i need to know.' he takes a deep breathe, as the warm blood rushes between his legs.

he grabs your face, touching his temple with yours. 'fuck it,' he whispers, capturing his lips with yours. he's the priest, he needs to enlighten you with the knowledge you beg for, the experience you beg for.

perhaps it's sinful, but when his tongue meets yours, swallowing the sounds from your mouth, there's no sweeter innocence than his gentle sin. he'll be a poison ivy just for you, just to worship you at the shrine of his sins.

[z-eel]

eclipsewater like i said and promised but i didn’t get to the smut because i love background story okay. i’m a romantic at heart

i love love love when people write remus and james to be so close, even platonically, but this is romantically. yes sirius is james’s platonic soulmate, but he feels so at home with remus. sirius is his twin flame, and remus is the heart that holds his flame. they complete each other in ways that most people don’t see. they spend their last year of hogwarts giving each other secret smiles when someone asks who they’re dating. sirius and peter are slipping off somewhere thinking they’re being secretive while remus and james are the opposite halves that fit together

they move in together pretty soon after graduating. sweet oblivious peter asks why they got a two bedroom but only live in one room. sirius elbows him and thanks them for thinking of getting a guest room just for little ol’ him.

they’re each other’s safe place to land. james can have a hard day at practice so remus draws him a hot bath and makes his disgusting protein shake. and then he holds james. every moon, james makes sure that remus takes his appropriate potions, helps him stretch his muscles, and rubs ointment into any ailment. remus reigns in james’s naturally cocky and petty attitude with a hand on his nape, and james near automatically tells him to stop being self deprecating when he even senses it about to come out of remus’s mouth. sometimes they finish each other’s sentences in a bizarre way. they feel like extensions of the other, two sides of the same coin. they just… work.

a few years later, it’s a surprise when they both feel something shift at the same time. it’s almost like their hearts, ever in sync, decide they yearn to add a third heart. it’s the night when there’s a pounding on their door and when they open it, it’s to a very drunk and crying regulus. regulus tolerates james on a good day, but he doesn’t like remus enough to show up unannounced at 1am. he’s blubbering apologies until james ushers him in and makes him sit. regulus tell us what’s happened. is it sirius? oh please don’t be sirius.

and regulus usually wouldn’t cry, especially in front of james and remus, but he’s drunk so forgive him. so he gets out i was out with my boyfriend and he cheated on me right in front of me! and sirius hates him, and barty and evan are traveling, and pandora lives too far to walk, and i’m too drunk to apparate – at this he cries harder – and you’re closest to the club so you were my last option and now this is embarrassing!

so remus and james do their best to comfort him until he says he wants to sleep. they get him a shirt of james’s to change into and tell him he can sleep in their guest bed. they reconvene in the kitchen to figure out a game plan. (we can’t kill him james. – but… but! he hurt regulus! as sirius’s best friend i have a responsibility – for fucks sake did you hear me? i said kill. we can maim him. but we have to wait because it’s too suspicious. did you hear that thump.)

and they go to investigate and there’s what appears to be an angel asleep on their bed wearing james’s shirt. and suddenly neither of them can breathe because there’s something so sweet about this regulus that can and will hex you for breathing too loudly (james would know) curled in on himself fast asleep. like he needs protected. and they both know they’re so absolutely fucked over him

-💫🐀

That is the sweetest fucking thing omg.

WHY THE FUCK WOULD ANYONE CHEAT ON REGULUS?!?! HELLO????

I swear we could start a drinking game with amount of time we've described Regulus as an angel in all these back and forths (the Remus priest au would be the final boss lol)

ugh and I wish i could add somthing but said smut and now im buzzing in anticipation. (all can is horny thought and this is to sweet for that.

(THE JUMP SCARE!!! AAHHHHH! the way i scream, this has nothing to do with you said starrat but it does at the same time because why would you say that specifically. ahhhhhh, i scream and jumped out my seat because it has to be a coincidence but what a terrible coincidence it is)

[theresthesnitch]

Trick or Treat!

Part 1.

Remus scratches his long ear, which buzzes a bit from the charm he uses on them. He uses the same costume each year because it's easy and he finds it funny, even if no one but James and Sirius really get it.

Remus braces himself as he hears James and Sirius coming down the stairs. Sirius has been tight lipped about what his costume is, which means Remus hasn't been able to prepare himself for it.

Last year, Sirius was a vampire nun (to match James’s vampire priest) and for some reason, the costume came with a slit up to his thigh, which Sirius took as invitation to wear fishnet stocking and heels. Sirius decided he needed to practice walking around in both for weeks, and Remus nearly died.

Death by Sirius Black's thighs, which apparently will be a recurring them this year.

Sirius hits the bottom step with a flounce of a short skirt that barely covers... well, anything. He walks right toward Remus, and it takes Remus a moment to drag his eyes up from Sirius’s thighs to see the rest of the his costume.

"Are you little red riding hood?" Remus asks, his voice a little huskier than he intended.

"Yes," Sirius says. He stops in front of Remus and pops his hip to the side, making the skirt bounce. "Such big eyes you have, Mr. Wolf."

Remus has to swallow a few times before he can form words again. "All the better to see you with."

Sirius smiles wickedly, and Remus feels like he might be the wolf and Remus is the one who is lost. "And what big hands you have."

"All the better to touch you with," Remus says, and it isn't until Sirius's smile turns amused and James snickers that Remus realzies he messed up the line. Remus doesn't just want a hug, though. He wants to touch.

Sirius takes both of his hands and places them on his bare thighs under his skirt, then sits down straddling Remus's lap. Remus's brain shorts out, and he tries very hard to keep his eyes on Sirius's face.

"Mr. Wolf," Sirius says, but his voice feels like caramel, sticky and sweet, "what big lips you have."

"All the better to--"

Kiss you.

He would have said it. Meant to, even. But before the words make it out of his mouth, Sirius is kissing him and Remus forgets the whole plot.

"I can't fucking believe that worked," James says.

Sirius breaks the kiss. "Mr. Wolf, what big teeth you have."

Remus laughs, breathless from the kiss. "Oh, I'm going to eat you alive."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Siruis say, and then kisses him again.

Trick or Treat!

[litsetaure]

Okay, so here’s another headcanon relating to James being Indian - one that possibly explains a longstanding mystery.

A little background: record keeping in India is, to say the least, pretty ropey. A lot of the older generation (aka, my grandparents) didn’t actually have birth certificates. Hell, we don’t actually know when my grandmother was born. We know where, but not exactly when. (I’m not entirely sure we know when my grandfather was born either, since I strongly suspect he lied about his age when he joined the army in WW2.)

But anyway. There are some records though, that are literal scrolls kept by the pandits, or Hindu priests, in holy cities on the river Ganges (Varanasi, Haridwar, etc.) Each Hindu family has a pandit, and each family has a set of scrolls tracing the family back generations. My family has one. Chances are, if you’re from a Hindu family or married into one, you’ll be on one, though it’s not always easy to find. (We were just lucky that we knew which city ours were in.)

Okay, so what’s this got to do with James? Well, it’s pretty likely that his Indian family are culturally Hindu (even if they’re not necessarily practicing nowadays), so they’d have these family scrolls in India.

So which mystery does this solve? Well, the mystery of where the hell Sirius was at the start of GoF when he was using huge colourful birds to write to Harry?

Yeah, that’s right. My headcanon is that Sirius went to India. He went to see the Potter family pandit to update the scroll with James’ (and Lily’s, and possibly Fleamont’s, unless someone else did it) date of death and add Harry’s name to the scroll.

But then he saw something that shocked him on the scroll, next to James’ name. His ability to read Sanskrit is pretty rusty nowadays, but he can still recognise his own name. At some point, before he died, Fleamont must have either written to the pandit, or gone to India, and had Sirius’ name added. Listing him as James’ brother. As family.

Later (while sobbing uncontrollably), Sirius mirror-calls Remus to tell him that. But Remus then realises something. If anyone intentionally betrays another member of their family, their name disappears from the scroll. It’s extremely old magic that’s been imbued in those scrolls for centuries. No one knows how it’s done; the only people who would know are long dead.

You see where I’m going with this? Sirius’ name is still there. It was never erased. And he couldn’t have rewritten it. That means he never betrayed James and Lily. It means they have proof he’s innocent.

Remus tells Sirius ‘get that fucking scroll by any means necessary so we can clear your name! Not even Fudge can ignore this, not without being called a massive bigot.’ (Okay, there was actually a lot more swearing, since my headcanon is that Remus swears like a sailor. He’s not a werewolf, he’s a swearwolf!)

So Sirius races back to Haridwar to do just that. Either he manages it and his name gets cleared (thanks to some ‘nudging’ from a few powerful people) or, he’s halfway there when he gets the letter from Harry about his scar hurting and promptly flies home.

Personally, I like the idea that he gets the scroll and gets cleared. Heck, maybe the pandit agrees to testify! And yes, I know it doesn’t happen in canon, but it would make a good AU.

[vellichorbindery]

“It’s my vow to break, and I have never wanted to break it more than I do right now.”

Newest bind of Dear Your Holiness by my girl @mollymarymarie (ok I swear this is the last one for a min)

Stain glass done with resin.

[moonytoast-x]

my lovely collection of fanfic recs summarized by yours truly <3

✨all the young dudes✨: canon, complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/10057010/chapters/22409387

dress up in you: muggle au, remus is a hot bassist and sirius is so gay for him, complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/13990401/chapters/32213229

atyd sirius pov: self explanatory (complete work) https://archiveofourown.org/works/34577035

text talk: muggle au, text fic, remus has chronic illness and sirius texted the wrong number, complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/1651109/chapters/3501239

you wouldn't like me: muggle au, trans sirius, wolfstar, set in like 2005, very vibes, complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/45502642/chapters/11449071

blends: coffee shop au wolfstar <3 (complete work) https://archiveofourown.org/works/7869079/chapters/17970910

on another ocean: wolfstar goes on a trip across europe together and has incredible sexual tension, complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/39128118/chapters/117226243#workskin

choices: jegulus/jegulily, mostly canon compliant, takes place during hogwarts years all through the war (REALLY FUCKING SAD WATCH OUT), complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/30170643/chapters/74332617

tigerlily and wolfsbane: lily pov of hogwarts years https://archiveofourown.org/works/33079969/chapters/82118059

wading in waist high waters: gbbo au wolfstar, sexual tension, sirius used to be in a boyband, remus is a welsh nerd (I love him), complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/36896740/chapters/92052442

dear your holiness: remus is a priest and a bassist and sirius is incredibly gay and also confused, complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/35105491/chapters/87450694

the hand that feeds: canon compliant dorlene (be prepared to sob), complete work, theres also a part two that focuses on emmeline vance and mary https://archiveofourown.org/works/38287942/chapters/95669569

nothing fades like the light: zombie cowboy jegulus, shortish, so sAD, has some black brother feels </3 (complete work) https://archiveofourown.org/works/43550415/chapters/109497873

bury our secrets shallow: marauders+slythershits muggle small town au with black brothers sorting their shit out, also wolfstar and jegulus I think (complete work) https://archiveofourown.org/works/49550836/chapters/128345881#workskin

bird set free: wolfstar figure skating and all the sexual tension (major second hand embarrassment but it's kinda funny the second time you read it), complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/44271820/chapters/112378375#workskin

like real people do: muggle au where remus has epilepsy and works at a coffee shop, and sirius is raising harry bc jily still died (😭😭😭) and they fall in love, complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/44399764/chapters/111670651

crimson rivers: hunger games au, really long, really fucking angsty, SO GOOD, complete work https://href.li/?https://archiveofourown.org/works/39760044

we can take it out back if you promise to give me a kiss after you take me down: rosekiller muggle au, wip, they're dramatic little shits and theyre going thru it https://archiveofourown.org/works/50777170/chapters/128269429

just lovers: no war au with starchaser and marylily and rosekiller and wolfstar and general happiness and wholesomeness, complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/38344720

intermission: cute rosekiller side plot from just lovers (your honor I love them), complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/39437451/chapters/98704770#workskin

I'm not gonna teach him how to dance with you: rosekiller trying to stop barty from getting into an arranged marriage, in canon-without-the-war, lots of slythershit shenanigans, complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/41378289/chapters/103762113

annoying: rosekiller wrong number text fic (like text talk but even funnier and less wolfstar), complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/44115820/chapters/121605580#workskin

kill your darlings: college hockey au, jegulus and wolfstar and marylily and barty x evan x cerci, very angsty most times, truly amazing, complete work https://archiveofourown.org/works/40038048/chapters/100269270

[avis-writeshq]

Welcome to Golden: a milestone event!

Welcome to Golden: a milestone event!

I am honoured to announce that we have reached 2.1k on this blog! To properly commemorate this momentous occasion, you are invited to join Golden: a milestone event where guests from across the world will be invited. As such, please enjoy our festivities filled with music, writing, and requests for your enjoyment!

Thank you to everyone who has supported me during this time! I truly appreciate every single one of you 💜

THIS EVENT HAS ENDED ! THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT ! 💙

▹ track one: i once believed love would be

requests are open! these fics will be at least 500 words for each request and will also be set in the canon universe. please see below in regards to the requesting guidelines.

guidelines:

in order for me to complete a request, it needs to have a character and a story/plot line. the characters i am currently taking requests for can be found at the end of this post. 

i currently write only for fem!reader because that is what i have experience in and because i haven’t figured out the mechanics for gn!reader or male!reader.

i do not write smut (suggestive is ok!), gore, or cheating (done by/on reader), loss of child, incest, poly relationships or age regression. i have the right to delete or deny any requests that come through my inbox. 

do not send me a request that you have already sent to another author. it’s icky, it’s iffy, and it ends up with at least one person getting hurt. it’s just a generally not great thing to do and i recommend not doing it at all. i understand that it might take longer than desired for your request to come out, but that doesn’t change the fact that the people who are writing these fics are exactly that: people.

please be patient! i am currently working three jobs and each of them carry their own demands. i will most definitely get to your request, but these things do take time. 

▹ track two: black and white 

ask games!  these games include: fmk, general asks (ask me any question and i will answer!), etc.

find a list of ask games below:

emoji ask game ‼️ colour ask game (open to everyone) ‼️ character ask game ‼️ WIP ask game ‼️

▹ track three: but it’s golden

alternate universe! send me a character in a situation that isn’t the norm (eg. single dad!spencer reid, rockstar!remus lupin) and i’ll write a drabble about it.

same rules & guidelines as track one.

i do not write hybrid!au, stoner!au or priest/religious!au. 

▹ track four: like daylight

bonus track : remix! send me an ask about a fic that i’ve already written (eg. sparks fly!reader, train rides!reader) and send a request based on those characters. this could mean asking directly for a spin-off or a short ‘part two’ to any of my existing standalone fics. please provide the character and the title of the fic that you would like me to remix &lt;3

for example: how would sparks fly!reader react to post prison!reid?

same rules & guidelines as track one.

▹ outro: singers & songwriters

here is a list of the characters i am willing to write for during this event!

criminal minds:

spencer reid, aaron hotchner

haikyuu:

tsukishima kei, kenma kozume, oikawa tooru, iwaizumi hajime, akaashi keiji, bokuto koutaro, miya atsumu, miya osamu, kita shinsuke, suna rintaro, sakusa kiyoomi

boku no hero academia:

bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku, todoroki shoto, tamaki amajiki

dc superheroes:

damian wayne, richard ‘dick’ grayson, jason todd, tim drake

harry potter:

remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, albus severus potter, scorpius malfoy, ominis gaunt, sebastian sallow, garreth weasley, fred weasley, george weasley

‼️ i no longer write fanfiction about real people. (aka, no rpf. sorry!) ‼️

here are some examples as to what your request should look like!

▹ hi! could i request track one with spencer reid where he gets drunk and reader takes care of him please? thank you!

▹ hello! could i request track four with detention!damian wayne please? where reader suffers from nightmares following the attack? thank you!

thank you once again to everyone who has supported me throughout this journey!! i can't wait to write your requests <3

tagging some mutuals 💙

@violetrainbow412-blog @shotosjupiter @astrophileous @dream-a-little-bigger-x @aperrywilliams @fuckinglevi @kitashousewife @229zmi @atrirose @haisuken @enluv @kentoangel @shiishki @ceo-of-daichi @cotton-charms @kageyuji

[thatblackravenclaw]

Let’s Get Married

a/n: my lord this is shitty. in my opinion. i originally wrote it for my creative writing class but quit halfway through, so here is a half baked James fic

Blog Details | Let’s take a trip

James Potter x Black!fem!reader (house neutral)

warning(s): drinking, just literal fluff

word count: 0.7k

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James is absolutely zonked.

The lights in the club dazzle like the stars in the sky. My arm is wrapped around James’ shoulder as Sirius brings us another round of shots. I can barely see with my glasses on, but I would never turn down alcohol.

“To… our last year in university.” Sirius says with a content look at his toast.

We all clink our shots together in agreement and tilt our heads back, swallowing the burning liquid. I slump against James and glance at our friends with a somber smile. Remus is wiping the Tequila off of Sirius’ chin and Marlene and Dorcas are sharing whispers in the corner. Peter wandered off ages ago. Some girl gave him what he calls, “sex eyes” and went off with her about an hour ago. James’ tucks his head into my shoulder and pulls me closer. I welcome in the gesture and place a kiss on his head.

The bartender yells last call. Everyone is in a drunken stupor. I can’t even feel my face. My eye lids are heavy as I fight to keep them open. Remus is the least drunk of us all. Always taking care of everybody. Through my blurred vision I see him round everyone up.

“Y/n,” I hear James say with a rasp.

“Yes, baby?”

“We should get married.”

“We should.” No hesitation required. It’s something we’ve talked about time and time again.

“Right now.” He says and then lifts his head to look at me.

“Let’s do it.”

The wind gusts behind us as we run through the bar doors, hand in hand. I can hear Remus and Marlene shouting from behind us. The lampposts lights turn into blurs as our legs pick up speed. My laughter fills the air at the pure thought of being Mrs. James Fleamont Potter. The Chapel is now a mere two blocks away as we push through the people on the cobblestone. My blood is rushing through my ears and my heart is beating out of my chest. I look at James and have never seen him so focused. He weaves through the crowd while holding my hand tight. In this very moment it’s still surreal that I get to call him mine.

The giant bright cross comes into sight and we start to slow to a light jog. We’re actually doing this. We’re getting married.

Once we get to the building we stand in front of the doors. Our fingers intertwine and we open the doors together. For the first time in a while, there’s silence. It’s almost deafening. “Take a seat the priest will be right with you.” We jump at the sudden voice. The lady that the voice came from is sitting at a desk with what seems like a crossword puzzle. She has an undetectable emotion on her face. You can tell that she’s had to deal with one too many of these quick late night marriages.

We make haste to the bench by the double doors. The cushions are lined with pearls and is decorated with a warm ivory. The corners have peeled to the point that you can see the original cushioning underneath.

My knee bounces with anticipation. I fumble with my necklace. The touch of the butterfly calms my nerves but only a tiny bit. James’ hand reaches down and caresses my thigh to calm the shaking. I look into his eyes and see nothing but love and adoration. A lazy smile paints his face and he leans forward until our foreheads meet. I close my eyes at the feeling and soak in the moment.

The double doors open. Out comes two women, hand in hand. A group of people follow behind them. They cheer and shout with glee. Petals are being thrown over their heads. Both of the women are in off white suits. One is wearing heels while the other is wearing loafers in the same color. The looks on their faces almost brings tears to mine. I’ve never seen so much love. Not even from my own parents. Once the bridal party walks out the doors of the chapel, we hear a voice from the inside telling the next party to come in. James squeezes my hand and we stand in unison.

“Us until the end.” He says.

“Us until the end.” I confirm.

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James Masterlist | United Kingdom

[saintsenara]

Not from the ask list but the characters in ur fics as Irish counties and why?

anon, this has absolutely sent me. i have genuinely never seen something more up my alley.

let's start with characters we can pull from the series for ireland's six superior counties, shall we...

antrim = oliver wood

a county full of lads who've never met a spivvy tracksuit they don't think is the height of fashion, and who have a vastly inflated sense of their success at sports.

armagh = tom riddle

armagh has a [deservedly] bloody reputation. he could settle down in the murder triangle. he'd like that.

down = draco malfoy

people who live in co. down really like thinking they're better than the rest of us just because it's easy for them to get to belfast [lads, how's that something to boast about?], so they have to be the series' whiniest flop.

fermanagh = rubeus hagrid

fermanagh is full of docile lads who build things, in my experience.

londonderry = ron weasley

canonically gorgeous, gorgeous girlies live in this fine county - by which i mean, of course, that i do. we deserve to be represented by the series' most gorgeous girly. and a ginger sweetheart with six siblings [so you know which side of the sectarian divide his parents are on...] would go down a storm with our mams.

tyrone = harry potter

my brother once had his nose broken in a pub in strabane, which doesn't sound particularly interesting until you realise that my brother is a priest. by which i mean - a county filled with people who are reckless, quick-tempered, and always ready to throw hands? it can only be represented by one man...

---

and then the rest...

carlow = quirinus quirrell

the most interesting thing there is a big rock.

cavan = percy weasley

everyone i've ever met from cavan has been really boring and really tight. so there's that.

clare = ginny weasley

because it's gorgeous, in a not like other girls way.

cork = albus dumbledore

look at this canon line and tell me dumbledore's not a cork man... "In fact, being — forgive me — rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger.” 

donegal = sybill trelawney

always away with the fairies up there... and always drunk too.

dublin = walburga black

everyone you've ever met who lives in dublin is genuinely shocked to discover that the rest of the world exists beyond the m50. it's not not giving "has never set foot in muggle london and would die before she did".

galway = arthur and molly weasley

galway is the home of the nation's sophisticated [and, apparently, sexually adventurous] culchies - which fits two people from clearly quite distinguished backgrounds who nonetheless live the way they do...

kerry = gilderoy lockhart

you will never see american tourists get scammed more glamorously than in kerry.

kildare = regulus black

considerably less interesting than - and devoid of identity in comparison to - its neighbour, dublin.

kilkenny = charlie weasley

all they do is have red hair and hurl.

laois = daphne greengrass

on account of her irrelevance.

leitrim = sally-ann perks

on account of her irrelevance.

limerick = bellatrix lestrange

limerick used to be known as "stab city". she'd fit right in.

longford = mungundus fletcher

gombeen men abound.

louth = myrtle warren

because they [by which i mean the two people i know who were born there...] are always fucking moaning.

mayo = remus lupin

perpetually mopey, unless they reckon they're great at something.

meath = cormac mclaggen

they wish they were as class as the lads in dublin.

monaghan = cuthbert binns

genuinely couldn't locate it on a map.

offaly = grawp

i mean, who fucking knows? the entire place is a bog.

roscommon = aberforth dumbledore

you can guess why...

sligo = fred and george weasley

wheeler dealers, the lot of them.

tipperary = fleur delacour

the home of gorgeous, gorgeous girlies with striking accents.

waterford = dobby

they love a good strike.

westmeath = hermione granger

not somewhere you'd expect you'd choose to live if you were a bit of a know-it-all. and yet.

wexford = neville longbottom

they love to bang on about the soil.

wicklow = marge dursley

she drives a range rover and looks down on anyone who farms, change my mind.

[other answers from this ask game]

[wannabelilybriscoe]

2024 In Review!

Thank you for the tag, @leavesthatarebrown! <3

I only have two stories and I only started writing halfway through the year! But I'm going to take this opportunity to indulgently ramble about my two stories because I love them both very much. Under the cut for anyone who happens to be interested.

June - December

A Song For the End of the World

So, I'd gotten back into HP fanfiction earlier in the year, after a long time away from being actively in the fandom (we're talking ohhhh ~15 years). Turns out, many people wrote many truly fantastic stories while I was "away," not to mention the treasure trove of older stories that I'd missed because I was a tween back when I first started reading fanfiction! Who knew!

After reading so many gorgeous, poignant, fun, and hard-hitting stories, including a whole whack of really creative AUs featuring the Marauders, I found myself kinda sorta wishing that I could write one of my own. I used to write fiction a lot when I was younger but only ever short stories. Then, university and my twenties happened and put creative writing other than poetry on the back-burner (poetry has been a constant throughout my entire life). But I've always wanted to write a novel! I just didn't think I was the type of person who could write a long story.

Anyway, I was in an extra slumpy place creatively, and aching to feel connected to my old self again (hence getting back into HP fanfiction in the first place). So I thought...fuck it! I've done a bunch of other really hard shit in the last decade. Why can't I just write a stupid fanfic for the pure fun of it, and use it as a sandbox to learn how to write a multi-chapter story? Just to prove to myself that I CAN?

So I started brainstorming what would be the most fun for me to write i.e. what I would be intrinsically motivated to stick with. That's how I landed on:

Zombies! I love zombie movies. Zombies are fun! The genre never takes itself too seriously, but creates a lot of opportunities for interesting character dynamics and explorations into the human psyche. Plus, a lot of opportunity for action-packed, cinematic scenes!

Set in the 70s because I find that era interesting from a pop culture and political milieu.

Remus POV because he's my favourite and I thought he would be the easiest brain for me to inhabit (but I later enjoyed exploring other POVs, I think I just needed to build up my confidence in Remus's head first).

I wanted it to be EPIC. Like a TV show with a couple of seasons. Lots of characters. Multiple plot reveals. Something of a scale I'd never done before.

I wanted it to be a queer coming-of-age story because I love those stories, and stories about found family, friendship, and learning to be brave in the face of insurmountable obstacles.

Then I made a list of cool and/or funny things to add in. I decided that nothing would be too ridiculous for this story because the name of the game is fun. Those things included:

Ample 70s music references

A priest with a flamethrower (can't tell you why, I just loved the visual)

Zombie dog!

An apocalyptic roadtrip

A romantic scene on a tower ledge

A cult with a classic 70s cult leader

Zombie rats!

A Commer van

A chainsaw (hmmmmmm)

And the very final scene, which I won't spoil, but which I've had in my head since the first week of writing this story.

But as I wrote and wrote, I started to tease out different themes I wanted to explore, and different characters I wanted to introduce and inhabit.

One of the biggest things I'm learning from writing this story is to trust the process. Before writing this, I thought I had to have every little piece of the plot figured out at the get-go. It always left me with analysis paralysis. But now I'm learning that while you need to have the broad strokes planned to give you direction, a lot of the parts of the plot that make the story engaging and memorable are discovered along the way. How can I begin to explain how freeing that realization was for me? I've rewritten my plot outline about four times. Although, the funny thing is, whenever I find myself second-guessing a plot point, I seem to end up circling back to my initial idea anyway.

Does all this mean that parts of the story are clunky and in need of refinement? Hell yeah. If I was going to even consider trying to get something published traditionally, I would need to put it through so many rounds of edits. But this is my hobby story about Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, and I'm sharing it as I go. So, I'm choosing to not feel bad about things like going back and making edits to past chapters after they're published if it serves the final product. And I'm choosing to not cut scenes I've included simply for my own self-indulgence, even if it makes things ramble a little. It's imperfect but it's full of joy and heart (and angst and irreverent violence).

December

The Road to Love Is Covered in Ice and Slush

If ASFTEOTW is long for the sake of long, The Road to Love is short for the sake of short. I've read a bunch of tight, punchy romcoms that were just brilliantly executed. I wanted to see if I could do the same. Also, things are at a heavy point in my zombie story and I needed a little brain break. I've been having a blast writing horror but I wanted some silly, light comedy during the holidays!

I decided to set it in Toronto because I've wanted to write a story set in Toronto for a long time. I was born in Toronto and have lived in and around it my entire life. Some of my most formative years were spent living in the west end of the city.

I set it in the present day at a startup because I've lived it, and I knew all the ridiculousness that could be packed into a story with that setting. My goal was to make the plot uncomplicated, as a counterpoint to the zombie story, because that one has required a lot of research and planning. Basically, I approached this story as a rapid-fire project that would hopefully flow easily. I'm happy to say that it did! I've enjoyed writing it immensely.

It's a love letter to my home city. I've fully romanticized Toronto because I think the city deserves it. And it's been so lovely to see people commenting that my story has made them want to visit! It’s also officially the first multi-chapter story I’ve ever finished!!!

Fanfiction is so fun! I've met so many lovely, creative people in the last six months. I've learned SO MUCH about writing fiction! Thank you thank you thank you if you've been reading my stories, and especially if you've been leaving likes and comments. I think one day I WILL write an original novel. I know I'm capable now! But for the time being, I'm enjoying playing in the fanfic sandbox.

(I don't know who to tag because seems like most of my moots have done this already....so if you haven't, consider this an open tag!)