#remus could have shared stories and memories

[act-more-like-a-dog-sirius]

This above all else is the clearest indication of how much Remus lupin failed Harry. Because he made no effort to reach out to Harry or be there for him or talk to him outside of what was necessary. Harry does not view him as a close friend or confidant. There’s only 2 occasions where Harry calls him Remus in DH but internally he still thinks of him as Lupin. And that’s because Lupin did not make an effort to let Harry get close to him, to establish or maintain any kind of relationship with Harry. And that’s Remus’ own fucking fault

The marauders in Harry's mind are called James, Sirius, Lupin, and Wormtail

[crimsntwlip]

scars | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: based on this request!

a/n: so sorry i took awhile to post this req <33 remus art creds to: @/likeafunerall on ig!!

| posted: 4/2/24 | masterlist |

you and remus had been friends for quite some time now, bonding over your shared love for books and late night conversations. however, there was one thing you noticed about him - he never liked talking about his scars.

you, on the other hand, had a few scars yourself, but they were nothing compared to the ones that marred remus's skin. yours were mostly from childhood scrapes and silly accidents, each with its own funny story or memory attached to it. you would often laugh and joke about them, but whenever the topic of scars came up, remus would quickly change the subject.

one night, as the two of you sat in the gryffindor common room, you found yourself recounting the story behind a scar on your knee from falling out of a tree when you were younger. remus listened in awe as you animatedly described the events leading up to the fall and the hilarious aftermath.

“ i can't believe you were that brave as a child,” remus said, his eyes shining with admiration. “i would have been too scared to even climb a tree.”

you chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “well, you never know what you're capable of until you try, right?”

you noticed a shift in remus' demeanor. his eyes seemed to darken slightly, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “is everything alright, remus?” you asked, concerned.

he hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, his voice low and hesitant. “i... i don't really like talking about my scars.”

you nodded understandingly, not wanting to push him further. but to your surprise, remus spoke up again, his voice barely above a whisper. “but... hearing you talk about your scars and the memories behind them, it's... it's nice. It's like... they're not just scars, they're... stories.”

you smiled softly, feeling a warmth in your chest at his words. “yeah, they're like reminders of the adventures and mishaps we've had along the way.”

for a brief moment, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you, before remus spoke up once more, his voice stronger this time. “i... suppose I could share a story or two about my scars, if you're interested.”

you beamed at him, eager to hear the tales behind the mysterious marks that marred his skin. as the conversation shifted to remus, you couldn't help but notice the way his expression softened when he spoke about his scars. he reluctantly shared a few stories behind them, but you could tell it was difficult for him. you made sure to listen attentively, showing him the same patience and understanding he always showed you.

as remus finished telling his story, to which he now regretted telling, he nervously fidgeted with his hands.

noticing his demeanor, you smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand in solidarity. “i think your scars are beautiful, remus,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his with warmth and understanding. “and i wouldn't change a single one of them because they're a part of what makes you who you are.”

remus met your gaze, his eyes shimmering with emotion as he processed your words. a soft smile played on his lips, and he squeezed your hand back gently. in that moment, you both shared a silent understanding, a newfound closeness that transcended words.

“thank you,” remus whispered, his voice filled with gratitude. “you always see the best in people, don't you?”

you shrugged modestly, a hint of blush coloring your cheeks. “i just know a good soul when I see one.”

the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire in the common room providing a soothing background noise as you two continued talking through the night.

[moonstruckme]

Hiya Mae!! How are you?? It’s been a little bit but I was hoping I could request a poly!marauders fic (+plus Lily if you’re comfortable with doing that if not it’s fine). This week is the 6th anniversary of my brothers passing and this year is a bit harder as I’m turning 18. Having such a milestone coming up and him not being here is sorta making me sick. I was wondering if maybe you could base the fic off of that? Or something to do with grief and them helping reader out. I’ve found great comfort in the abundance of love you portray with their relationship and I could do with a lil of it.

If not it’s totally fine don’t feel obligated. Hope you have a good week!!

Hi sweetheart, sorry I couldn't get this to you during the week you requested it. I was also dealing with a bit of grief at the time and it felt too raw to try for a while. I hope you're doing well and that you really enjoy being 18, even if those feelings are complicated by your loss <33

cw: mentions of death, grief

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 622 words

The sky is turning from deep blue to black outside when Sirus notices you’ve slipped into a melancholy. 

The only hint of it is in your tone. You’ve been quipping about the film you’re all watching like you always do, bouncing off his and James’ comments and Remus’ amused grunts, but there’s a falsity to the cheer in your voice. This is something you and James have in common; when Sirius or Remus are upset it permeates the area around them like a thick fog, but the two of you have a way of keeping it contained within yourselves, putting on counterfeit smiles. Sirius often wonders if it doesn’t hurt you more. 

He leans away from where he’s been resting his head on Remus’ pectoral, snaking an arm around your shoulders. 

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty girl?” he asks quietly. 

You shrug. Swallow. “Just thinking about them,” you murmur in reply. 

Sirius suspects this isn’t the full story, but he, too, knows the necessity of papering over certain pains. He doesn’t pry. 

Before the war—before Regulus—Sirius used to think that grief was the pain that came from the love you had for the lost person being ripped away from you. But even months after his brother’s death, all the love is still there. It’s amplified, if anything, every ounce of it demanding attention now that he can no longer take it for granted even a little bit. 

What went was the ritual of it all. The peculiar brand of happiness he’d felt around Reg, never easy but still there, buried beneath layers of troubled history and shared broodiness. The inside jokes they’d barely realized they had, things no one who wasn’t raised in their house would see the humor in. The surety that if they fought, they’d get a chance to make up. Sirius will never have those things with his brother again. In memories, maybe, but now they’ll always be tinged with the love so big it hurts. 

He wishes desperately he could keep you from hurting like that. 

He shuffles closer, awkwardly wrapping his other arm around you until he’s nearly covering your body with his. It’s like he thinks he can shield you, like he can protect you from grief after he’d failed to protect you from loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says. 

You shake your head, turning so it’s jammed in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Your face feels hot. “I don’t know what to do,” you choke out. 

Sirius squeezes you tighter. He gets it, but he doesn’t. He knows how it feels to grieve, but not how to grieve your person in your way. It’s an ache he can only approximate. 

“Sweetheart.” James’ voice sounds pained, and he gets up from Remus’ other side, rounding the couch to climb onto the armrest beside you. He rubs your back with one hand, the other coming to rest on Sirius shoulder, a comfort in case he needs it. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do, my love.” 

Sirius feels a hot tear slip down his neck into his shirt, and James winces as your shoulders hitch under his touch. Remus makes a soft pitying sound. 

“You’re alright.” He latches onto the last unclaimed part of you, rough hand soothing up your calf. “You’re okay.” 

“Sorry,” you manage, and Sirius squishes you punishingly in his arms, pressing a staunch kiss to the side of your head. 

“Don’t be silly,” he tells you. James makes a half-choked sound of agreement. “No sorries, okay?” 

You nod, the bump of your nose moving against Sirius’ neck. He gives you another kiss to show his approval. 

“You’re alright, darling,” Remus says again. “Take all the time you need. We’ve got you.” 

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Brave Enough

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

genre: kinda angsty

el's thoughts: this is part one! part two will be done soon (hopefully) :)

The young girl’s screams echoed through the Potter’s back garden as James forced the training broomstick to go faster. The cold spring morning air whipped through their hair and past their faces causing Y/N to bury her head between his shoulder blades. 

“James! You be careful with her!”

“Don’t worry, Mum! She’s just being dramatic as always.”

“I’m alright, Mrs. Potter! I promise!” Y/N called back after smacking the bespectacled boy in front of her. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist as they both sat on his brand-new broomstick– gifted to him by his father against his mother’s better judgment. 

“Why can’t you just ride the extra one if you don’t want to go so fast?” He grumbled.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I don’t know how to ride it, you idiot.”

“Then learn how to,” he pointed out.

“I don’t want to,” she huffed. “Anyway, that’s why I have you.” 

James could feel her smiling brightly behind him as he chuckled. “Fair point I guess.”

The pair had been best friends since birth, given that their parents were all friends when they were at Hogwarts. The children had heard of all their fun stories and constantly looked forward to making memories as bright as their parent’s when they finally got their letters. They had a good few years before they turned eleven and each day felt like an eternity, but they always had their fair share of mischief and fun to pass the time. 

~

Footsteps pounded up the steps of the Potter’s manor. Giggles fell from the eleven-year-old’s smiling lips as she pushed open the heavy wooden door with a bit of a struggle. 

“I got my letter!” Y/N yelled into the house as she kicked off her shoes by the front door and slipped on the extra pair of slippers they kept for her. Euphemia’s laughter could be heard from the kitchen and the young girl quickly followed the sound. She ran into the kitchen and slid to a stop by the counter with a wide smile.

“Happy birthday, Darling!” Euphemia placed a kiss on the girl’s cheek. Fleamont Potter followed by placing a kiss on her head.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I got my letter!”

“We know,” the youngest Potter laughed. “We could hear you from your house.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Well sorry for being excited.”

“No need to be sorry about anything, Y/N/N.” Fleamont chuckled. 

Euphemia served both children slices of cake before she and her husband left them in the kitchen. James was quick to finish his slice and had started pestering Y/N for hers. 

“Shove off, you had your slice.” She grumbled as she slid her plate away from him.

He sighed and laid his head on the counter, waiting for her to finish. “We’re going to Hogwarts.”

Y/N giggled excitedly, “I know! Isn’t it exciting?”

“We’ll be leaving home,” James muttered into his arm that he used as a pillow.

“Yeah…” she sighed. “But at least we’re going together. We’ll have each other!” She smiled brightly at him and moved her plate back in front of her, silently offering to share.

~

“You’ll never guess what happened today!” James nearly bellowed as he strutted through the common room door and made his way to the other marauders sitting on the sofa chairs and couch. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and threw herself down next to Sirius. “Lily looked at him!” She sighed dramatically with a hand across her forehead. “Can you believe it?”

Remus and Sirius snickered while Peter said words of congratulations. James glared at the girl as he sat on the floor next to her legs. “That was my news to share.”

“Too bad,” she teased and stuck her tongue out at him. 

The loud giggles of Y/N’s dormmates sounded from the door interrupted the guy’s conversation. Y/N was quick to jump to her feet, nearly kicking James in the side as she caught up with the girls. “Save me.”

“We heard that!” Sirius hollered back to her. 

“Whatever!”

The girls walked up the staircase and filed into the dorm. 

“Guess what I heard today?” Marlene asked as she tossed her bag to the floor beside her bed and walked to the bathroom. 

Y/N picked up her bag and placed it on the blonde’s trunk. “What did you hear, Marls?”

“McLaggen has a massive crush on you and rumor has it that he’s planning on asking you out soon. My guess is within the next day or so.”

The y/h/c-haired girl choked on her breath. “McLaggen? Quidditch, future ministry worker McLaggen?”

Marlene shouted from the bathroom, “You’ve spent so much time with the boys you’ve gone stupid.”

“Oh, lay off her will you?” Lily spoke up with a chuckle. “It’s not her fault they were her only friends.”

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard she gave herself a small headache. “Shut up the both of you.”

“Right. Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you so you would be prepared.” Marlene strolled out, shaking out her blonde curls. 

“Prepared,” Y/N nodded with a far-off expression. “Wait. This is the first time a guy has shown interest in me!”

The other girls laughed at their oblivious friend. “Oh, girl.”

“That’s far from the truth. But it’s the first time one has been brave enough to do anything about it.”

“Brave enough?” asked Y/N, surprised. “I’m that terrifying?”

“Not you,” Lily sighed. “James.”

“James!?”

~

Hogwarts hallways were always crowded between classes, so it was no surprise to Y/N that she could barely make her way through them to reach her next class. First-years ran between the taller students, and sixth-year students ran just the same. Y/N avoided every nudging shoulder while she flipped through her Defence notes as she walked to her Divination class. 

“Y/N!” A voice shouted over the chatter in the hallway. “Hey, wait up!”

She froze in her steps and looked around to spot the source of the voice. McLaggen waved his hand in the air to grab her attention as he shoved his way towards her. 

“Hi, McLaggen.” Y/N smiled politely.

“Hey, how are you?” His bright smile made her cheeks hurt just watching him.

“I’ve been good-”

He cut her off, nodding. “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

“Oh,” her eyes widened at his forthright question. “Um, I would love-”

“McLaggen!”

The boy’s face drained of all his color so quickly, that Y/N would have found it humorous if she hadn’t recognized the voice behind her.

“Actually, I think I have plans. Sorry! Maybe some other time!” His words were rushed as he quickly turned around and rushed down the opposite end of the corridor.

‘So much for being brave enough to do something about it.’ She spun on her heel within seconds and strutted over to the group of three who parted the sea of students as they walked. 

“You!” She jabbed her finger hard against James’ chest once she reached him. “You obnoxious, annoying, bothersome, appalling, troublesome, dreadful boy.”

“That’s a lot of words,” James muttered to Sirius and Remus who stood beside him.

“Not nearly enough to describe you and how I feel at this very second.” If looks could kill, James would be six feet under where he stood. “Just who do you think you are?”

“Euphemia and Fleamont's son?”

“Your mother would be ashamed of you right now.” Y/N raised her hand to slap his shoulder. “And your father raised you better than this.”

James caught her wrist before she could hit him again. “Woah woah. Hold up, firecracker. What are you talking about?”

She quickly raised her other hand and slapped him anyway. “I’m talking about you scaring off people who have an interest in me!”

The brunette shot a glance of pure horror to Sirius, to which he only responded with a shrug. Remus rolled his eyes and sighed, “You had this one coming, mate. I told you not to do it.”

Y/N turned on the tallest marauders and glared. “You knew he was doing it and did nothing to stop him?” 

“I-”

Sirius quickly cut him off in a weak attempt to save at least one of his friends. “We have class, so sorry, darling. And don’t forget, it’s James who’s been friends with you much longer than we have. Okay, bye now!” He reached for Remus’ hand and pulled him into a sprint away from the furious girl.

“Traitors,” muttered James.

The halls started to clear as classes went back into session. However, Y/N couldn’t bring herself to care about being tardy to her Charms lesson at the moment. Her anger cleared but settled into a tearful heartache.

James panicked at the sight of her teary eyes. “Y/N/N…”

“James, why?” she asked with a sniffle.

“I just didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

“But you can’t protect me from that. I want to go on a date and I want to be sought after like the other girls. I want to ask a guy out to Hogsmeade and not be turned down.”

“But Y/N-” James started but was quickly shut down.

“No James. You have chased after Lily every day for the last four years! How is it fair that you get to chase after my friend while I sit back and watch? The only guy I’ve ever hoped would show interest in me, only to watch him go after one of my best friends. Then I find out that you scare off everyone else.” A few tears had fallen from her eyelashes at this point. “How is that fair, James?”

He stared at her with wide eyes. “The guy you hoped would show interest?”

Y/N’s heart dropped to her stomach. “No… James, don’t do that to me.”

She groaned loudly. “That’s what you pay attention to?”

“Well, the girl I’ve had a crush on for years just admitted she feels the same!”

“Y/N…” 

“You don’t get the right. That’s just mean.” Her voice was so small and she felt so vulnerable. Before James could say another word she cleared her throat. “I’m late for class.” She walked away from him slowly, as if in a daze. She could feel her heart crack in her chest as she walked away. She knew that there were a million better ways she could’ve handled the situation, but now she had to deal with the cards she played. 

This wasn’t the end of the conversation, but she just needed a bit of time. Some time to breathe and straighten out her thoughts. She just needed some time. 

[idkjustlemmedrownlikerab]

Why Regulus dying was crucial to the plot of Art Heist Baby!

It really pisses me off and people say "Omg it's so sad that Regulus never finished the heist, why did the author have to kill him?! He never finished his life's purpose" No it's not,  because that wasn't what he wanted in life, he achieved everything that he wanted.

The story doesn't work if Regulus lives. Art Heist Baby isn't about the heist. I mean it kind of is, that was what drew me into the fanfic, why I read it. But, as I read it, I realized that it's not about the heist, it's about love, it's a love letter from @otrtbs, the author, to art history and to the fandom, and about the love of found family, brothers reuniting, and falling in love and all the sappy stuff.

But Regulus and the readers by extension, have always thought that it's about the heist, that it's about the infamy and being remembered, and that's how he lives forever, the heist gets him his brother back, the heist lets him live forever.

But then in Copenhagen, when he's literally dying, he's having this internal monologue, like, maybe I failed this heist and it's not successful and I didn't do what I wanted and I wasn't the best person, but I was loved,  I am loved and I have loved back, he says that he knows he can take that love with him wherever he goes, even if he's a damn star in the sky, it doesn't matter. He's taking that love with him, it lives on, and that is its own form of immortality. That's what Regulus had been searching for this entire time and even after Regulus dies, James is still there, and Sirius and Barty and Evan hell all the others in the team, and it's like even death can't defeat that kind of love. We see James talking to Regulus every night and recounting memories and keeping Regulus alive in a way, which is what Regulus always wanted!!!! Just not in the way he thought he was going to get it.

I mean, otherwise what's the alternative? Regulus lives and he's happy with James, and maybe that's better than living on an infamy and better than the heist because, well, he's actually alive, but it's not just about love. Regulus and by extension, the reader wouldn't have this moment of realisation like, oh, it's love, love is the answer. Love is what makes all of us a little bit immortal for a little while. That's what it's all about in the end. Not the money or fame or notoriety. Just love. And Regulus dying feels like it was the best way Nat could have driven that point home. Like plz look past the heist, what else is there?

Because Regulus spent his whole life thinking that this was his goal. Just one more heist, that's what he'd always said right? One more heist, this is the last one. This is it. He'll have achieved everything he's ever wanted. Except, it's not what he wanted. Because throughout the story, he gets his brother back, he gets Sirius back in his life after spending years in silent mourning dangling just as precariously as the daunting Degas in the bathroom, he gets his brother back. He sees Barty and Evan who have spent their whole life going back and forth, finally getting together. He watches them grow up and grow together, and he spends his entire life with them. He brings together this group of strangers, this ragtag team of random people that applied via a fucking poster about a lucrative job and watches them bond. He watches relationships form, he connects with the Remus through annotations and books and a shared love for Sirius, he organizes dorlene's proposal and wedding!!!!

He bonds with all these people that he never would have met if he led a normal life, and then he meets James. He meets James Potter, who teaches him everything, who lets him borrow his bravery and shows him that life could be so much more if he wanted it to be, which he does.

"I love you, that's all." His last words, love, that's all. Not the heist, not the drop offs, not the money or the fame or the glory. Love, that's all. He started getting involved with the heists to feel loved, to get the attention that Sirius got from their parents growing up. Some superficial kind of love, and his life ends after he gets real love, platonic and romantic. Love, that's all, not the heist. He died with everything he knew he always wanted but never had the bravery to attain until then. That's why he said maybe he hadn't lived a long life but he lived the best life he could have.

Nat literally told us the reason with Regulus' last words and all of us decided to turn a blind eye to it, yes, yes ik it was heartbreaking to see him die and not live in the house in Brazil with James but we do see them meet again in the epilogue don't we? And let's trust Regulus and the author both when they said

"in every lifetime?"

"in every one."

[dream-with-a-fever]

but i’m a fire and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm (snippet)

by dream-with-a-fever (me) / societysgot (ao3)

harry/ginny, oneshot, canon compliant, missing moments during OotP

“So, I take it that cave in the mountains outside Hogsmeade wouldn’t work as a meeting place with Sirius?” She said, bringing them back to their conversation in the library.

Harry shook his head. “Definitely not — how did you know about that?”

“I’m really into mountain hiking,” She replied, without missing a beat.

Harry gave her a quizzical look before her face broke out into a smile, and she laughed.

“I’m joking - I've never done it,” She said, with a snort, “Hermione mentioned doing it with her family once — no, Sirius told me about it over the summer, back at Grimmauld place.”

“You and Sirius talked?”

For some reason he hadn’t even considered the fact that the Weasleys had been staying there for several weeks before Harry’s arrival. Jealousy bubbled in him momentarily, at the thought of them all spending their summer together, while he was stuck in privet drive. They had probably shared meals, swapped stories, made jokes. He vaguely remembered the youngest Weasley holding court up one end of the table on a particular evening, chatting animatedly with Remus, Tonks and Sirius. She had almost seemed like one of the crew. He just hadn't given it much thought until now.

She gave him a quizzical look, and he realised he must’ve been silent for a beat too long.

“Yeah, is that… alright with you?”

He forced out a laugh. “Yeah- erm, of course. I just didn’t think — I don’t know.”

“Well, he’s cool. Got a great muggle music collection. You’d probably know some of ‘em? There’s one band — super good called The Beatle and—”

“The Beatles.”

“What?”

Harry suppressed a smile. “Never mind.”

“They're really good. But, he mainly talks about you, you know,” She said, after a beat, “Raves about you actually.”

Harry sighed, like this was a real inconvenience.

"Oh, I am sorry," said Harry, fighting back a grin.

"I told him, I said Sirius, I haven't got all day - but the man's relentless. Wanted to know everything."

“That must’ve been terribly boring.”

“Very," She hummed, noncommittally. "You know, Harry Potter — famously boring.”

“Glad you agree.”

“Well, we can’t have everyone inflating your ego now, can we?”

Harry spluttered for a moment, before she continued.

“Not that a bit more arrogance on your part would be bad. You could be a lot worse. Look at Percy.”

“Thanks, Ginny.”

“Very welcome,” She said, breezily before clapping her hands together, “Anyway — if the cave isn’t an option, and all the fires are being guarded…”

“Well…not all of them,” Harry said, a look of realisation crossing his face.

When he looked up she was grinning widely at him, eyebrows raised. It was then that he looked around, and realised they were outside the Gryffindor common room — the trek from the library was like muscle memory to him now, and still their arrival had come as a shock to him.

The fat lady was chatting animatedly with her friend Violet from another portrait when they approached; both shrieking with laughter like a couple of hyenas, passing a bottle back and forth of some kind of mead that most certainly was not from the fat lady’s portrait. They were completely obvious to the two students stood outside.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your study session,” Ginny suddenly said, scrunching up her nose, looking rather guilty, “I know you need all the time you can get, you know, with the OWLs coming up so soon.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Have a lot of faith in my academic ability then, do you?”

She choked out a laugh, whipping her auburn hair out of her eyes. “Not what I meant and you know it. Though if you hanging around Ron every minute of every day is any indication of your intelligence…”

“Pretty sure you spend more time with him than me,” Harry replied, looking aghast.

“Yeah — because he’s my brother - I'm stuck with him, aren't I? But you voluntarily spend every waking moment with him. I mean, think of all the brain cells you must have lost already…”

“See, that’s—”

“But there’s still time to save yourself from ruin, I reckon. Just gotta get back to the books.”

“Well, that’ll be hard, seeing as you got me banned from going back into the library ever again…”

She elbowed him hard in the side, and Harry looked up, surprised at the contact. But Ginny seemed unfazed - like this was nothing out of the ordinary.

“I think I’ll take that chocolate egg back then,” She demanded, flicking a curtain of red hair behind her.

Harry scoffed. “Pretty sure you already ate most of it—”

And that earned him his second jab in the ribs. He glanced down at his feet, suppressing a grin.

Their slight cofuffle had caught the attention of the fat lady who now, having finally noticed their presence, began to complain at their frankly insulting dawdling (‘I don’t have all day, you two!’)

They parted ways in the common room; Crookshanks trotting over to the youngest Weasley the second she had stepped through the door; Harry making his way up to the boys’ dormitories.

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

(Unbeknownst to Harry, it was the best sleep he had had in weeks.)

[a-sunset-outside-my-window]

fic recs of the month

This is just a collection of my fic recs for the month of march, have fun <3

The Lab

by @de-sire-blog (de_sire) on Ao3

“I don’t get it,” Sirius says truthfully. “Remus is such a nice person, why does everyone pretend like he’s some kind of wicked stepmother?”

James laughs joyfully and winks at Sirius. “Are we even talking about the same person?” He holds out his hand above his head. “Big guy, about this tall, curly hair? Temper like a sleeping dragon? Smart, but a bit full of himself? Can kill you with his eyes?”

Sirius raises his eyebrows and laughs as well. “No, I don’t think we are talking about the same person at all.”  

A love story about healing, new beginnings and growing up. Academia! Romance! Shared cigarettes, cute cats, lots of coffee and the most amorous business trip you have ever seen.

the hare and the hound

by @steelycunt (aeridi0nis) on Ao3

‘He’ll never have to do it again, Remus realises. He can just keep being good, if he just behaves, he’ll never have to do it again, never with the dark and the bleeding and the crying. He just can’t give them reason to be angry at him, and he won’t, he hasn’t. And his mum is right – the drink does make him feel a little better.’

or:

Remus is a terribly behaved five-year-old. He doesn’t really think so himself, but his parents lock him in the cellar every month, so he must be doing something to deserve it. Well, not anymore. He’s got a plan, see, sort of. He’ll never go downstairs again.

Dusk

by @theresthesnitch on Ao3

“That’s not fair.” Sirius was crying now, and Remus swiped his tears away with his thumb. “This isn’t fair. We haven’t had enough time. It’s not fair.” 

“I know, love.” Remus leaned in for a kiss, and wondered if it would be the last. “I have loved you for sixty-two years, and it’s nowhere near enough.” 

Or

Sirius loses his memories.

Lupine

by @wolfstarbuxks (BayleyWinchester) on Ao3

Lupine adjective lu·pine | \ ˈlü-ˌpīn \ Definition of lupine : WOLFISH

Teddy is Remus' everything in life. He'd do anything for his son - including going to the same zoo, twice a week for a year so that his son could see the wolves that he had fallen in love with.

And if that meant that Remus got to met a sexy zookeeper, who was he to complain?

CONSTANT VIGILANCE and COMMON SENSE

by darkbluedark on Ao3

In which Alastor not-yet-"Mad-Eye"-but-still-quite-Mad Moody does as Alastor "Just Mad" Moody does, and brings a sneakoscope to an Order meeting.

~The kind of fix-it that makes so much sense that the fact that it isn't canon should be considered a plot hole in itself~

A Brief History of Dragons

by @eyra on Ao3

It's lovely up here; all meadows dotted with wildflowers, wind-beaten tracks criss-crossing this way and that through the fields, weaving inland to the pinewoods. The sun's hot on his back as he passes ramshackle stone walls, long since crumbled to piles of ancient rubble and scree, and then the path winds downwards, still following the line of the coast until Sirius finds himself outside an old white cottage, tucked away behind the hill with a rose garden that faces out to the sea.

Sirius moves to Cornwall for the summer and meets a rude, beautiful boy who is writing a book that may or may not be about dragons.

The Phoenix Agency

by LupinsChocolatePraline on Ao3

Sirius Black is excited to start his first full-time job after Uni, but this life change doesn’t sit well with his boyfriend who is difficult to live with on a good day, abusive on all other days. Sirius is good at pretending that everything is alright, he can even convince himself, but sometimes he wishes things were different. The problem is – Fabian is all Sirius has. Or so they both think.

Remus Lupin is a senior copywriter at an advertising agency, currently single by choice, and very comfortable with his unchanging daily routine, his familiar colleagues and his company-issued ergonomic chair that’s been his for three years now. When his favourite graphic designer is replaced by a twitchy, fresh-out-of-university Sirius Black, his peaceful routine takes an unexpected hit.

[lupinmoonlight]

Submission Part 4: Edge

Masterlist AO3 Submission Part 1 Submission Part 2: Establishing Rules Submission Part 3: Obedience

Summary - You sit in Professor Lupin's lap as he edges you with his fingers. You end up losing your v-card to him as well. (5,013 words)

Warnings - smut, teacher/student relationship, heavy D/s undertones, professor/sir kink, rules, fingering, LOTS of "good girl" and "Yes, Sir", age gap obviously, loss of virginity, teasing, edging, mentions of bruises and marking, very light innocence kink if you squint, choking, my grammar (english is not my first language).

Notes - This is not proof-read. So sorry for being MIA. I was burnt out from university and stuff. I still am but I wanted to finish this. I also have 5 hours of sleep left before I have to get up as I am writing this lol. This one is a bit different as I tried to incorporate more of how Remus feels and thinks.

Left alone in the quiet confines of his quarters, Remus sat back in his armchair, his mind racing. He was more than aware that what he was doing was dangerous, was wrong. He was aware of the risks, the potential fallout if you were ever discovered. His career, his reputation, everything could be destroyed in an instant. 

Yet, that day you came to him, desperate for guidance, for dominance, he couldn't say no. There was an undeniable attraction, a pull towards you that he couldn't ignore. He knew that if it hadn't been him, it would have been someone else. Someone inexperienced, someone who could take advantage of your vulnerability, your innocence, and it filled him with a protective rage. He preferred having you explore this part of yourself with him, in a safe environment where he could ensure your consent...or at least that's what he liked to tell himself.  

Remus had always prided himself on his self-control, his restraint. He was known for his moral compass, for his respect towards his students. But with you, all his rules seemed to evaporate. The intoxicating mix of your innocence, your submission, your desire, was too overwhelming to resist. 

Every moment of your encounter replayed in his mind as he sat in his armchair. Your flushed cheeks, your trembling hands, the way you'd looked at him with such trust and submission. The memory of you kneeling before him, of you looking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes, was enough to make him hard again. The way you'd whispered 'Yes, Sir', the vulnerability in your voice, made his heart race. He could still feel the softness of your lips as he grazed his thumb over them, the warmth of your mouth around his shaft, could still taste you on his lips...taste himself on your lips. The marks he left on your neck and back, a visible sign of your shared secret, would be a constant reminder of his dominance, of what you'd done, of what you were about to explore. 

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the dark ceiling. He was in deep, and there was no turning back now. 

~

You made your way to DADA the next day trying your best to look as normal as possible. You were normal after all, and no one had any reason to suspect you had been on your knees before Professor Lupin the night before, gagging around him and swallowing him down. You couldn't even let your thoughts wander there. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and walked in the classroom like the most normal student ever. 

The moment you stepped into the classroom, his eyes fell on you. You did your best to look as innocent as ever, your eyes bright, your cheeks flushed with the morning chill. But the short skirt that hugged your hips, hiked up just enough to reveal laced stockings clinging to your thighs, told a different story, whispered secrets only the two of you shared. Your professor took a moment to appreciate the sight, practically devouring you with his gaze, his pulse quickening, his palms itching to touch, to explore. But no- he had to maintain his control- that was what you had asked of him, after all. 

Throughout the class, neither of you could focus on anything else but each other. Every time he looked at you, his gaze lingered longer than it should, tracing the curve of your neck, the shape of your lips. He didn't care how obvious his stare was, how inappropriate it might seem, how predatory it was. He noticed the way your eyes lowered when your gazes met, the faint blush on your cheeks, the subtle shift of your skirt as you crossed and uncrossed your legs. Each small action was a dangerous dance on the edge of forbiddance. He wanted you, needed you. His mind was filled with thoughts of you. Of how he could take you right then and there, on one of the desks. And you, you would just bend over for him, self-respect completely forgotten, dignity gone. 

After class ended, he found his voice, a low, steady command that made your stomach jump, your knees weak: "Y/N, would you stay behind for a moment?" 

Once the room was emptied, the sounds of chairs scraping and students chattering fading away, you found yourself alone with him. He sat on the edge of his desk, his legs spread, silently inviting you to step into the space between them. The air was thick with tension, anticipation, the room suddenly too small for the two of you. 

When you were within reach, he reached out, his fingers finding your waist, pulling you closer. He watched as your eyes widened slightly, your breath hitching as he pulled you against him. He could tell how he affected you, and he loved every moment of it. 

"Look at me," he ordered softly, his gaze unyielding. When you hesitated, he repeated his command, his voice just a notch firmer, "Look at me." 

Slowly, your eyes met his, hesitant yet trusting. His hand moved from your waist to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the lace of your stockings, causing you to shudder slightly. 

"I want these on you tonight when you come to my quarters," he told you, his voice husky. It was an order, a declaration of what was to come. "Understood?"

"Yes, Sir", you whispered, your voice shaky. 

He smiled at you, a small, appreciative smile with a softness only he could mutter. "Good girl," he praised. "Now go, and behave yourself today." 

With that, he released you and you walked away, your steps slightly unsteady, feeling intoxicated by the power he had over you. The arrangement was not supposed to hinder your academic success- yet, your mind was consumed by the memory of kneeling on the floor of his quarters, his length hitting the back of your throat. Everything had become a blur since then. Despite the rules he had established for you, you would never admit to him he had such an effect on you, the fear of losing the sweet feeling of being owned, dominated, too intoxicating, too good.

You were not surprised by your feelings. You were a horny teenager, after all. Inexperienced, desperate, touch-starved. And there was something about the way Professor Lupin held himself that made you want to surrender completely. He was attractive, yes. But it was more than that. It was the kindness in his eyes that made you know you would be safe with him. His quiet strength telling you he could be in charge, take control, make it hurt good, make you cry, make you beg, all the while making you feel like he was the safest, comfiest place in the world. 

Remus, on the other hand, had not anticipated the thrill he would be getting from this, from you. For the rest of the day, he had found himself caught in a heady mix of anticipation and unease, his mind never straying far from what was to come this evening, from what he wanted to do to you, with you. The knowledge that what you were doing was ethically wrong, taboo, only seemed to amplify his anticipation. He was acutely aware that he was crossing boundaries he had set for himself long ago. Yet, the intoxicating allure of the forbidden made every stolen moment feel even more intense. 

Later that evening, in the silence of his quarters, Professor Lupin sat in his armchair, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm on the armrest. He was nervous, a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor. He felt like a teenager again, debating what he was going to wear. Did it really matter? He doubted his clothes would stay on long enough. Still, he opted for something casual- comfortable grey trousers, a simple shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a loosely tied tie hanging around his neck. 

Your nervous knock on his door snapped him out of his reverie. He was by the door in an instant, pulling it open to reveal you standing there. Your eyes wide, and your cheeks flushed in a way that made his heart pound in his chest. You were dressed just as he had instructed, your short skirt revealing the laced stockings from that morning. The lack of any underwear was invisible to the eye but he knew, and the thought sent a jolt of excitement through him. Your blouse was slightly see-through, the white fabric revealing just a hint of the mark he had left on your back. You looked every bit the innocent schoolgirl that you were (or that you pretended to be), and yet undeniably alluring. 

"Come in," he beckoned, stepping aside to let you enter. His gaze was intense, almost predatory, but not unkind, silently communicating his pleasure at your obedience. He guided you towards the armchair positioned opposite to his own. 

"Sit," he ordered. You obeyed, your steps hesitant. You could feel his gaze lingering on you as you settled down on the chair, drinking in the sight of you in the outfit he had chosen. 

"You look beautiful," he finally said. There was a note of genuine admiration in his tone, an honesty that was impossible to ignore. You couldn't help but blush. You wanted to return the compliment, but you couldn't find your voice, suddenly too nervous to speak. Your reaction did not go unnoticed and he gave a soft smile, satisfied with the effect he had on you. 

"How was your day?" he began, his tone casual, as if you were merely two friends catching up yet his eyes were studying you intently. 

"Fine, Sir," you lied hesitantly.

He noticed the hesitation immediately and raised an eyebrow. "Just fine?" He continued, his voice holding a note of intrigue. "Did you eat properly?" he continued. 

You nodded, stuttering a "Mostly, Sir." 

"And did you pay attention in your classes?" He asked. He knew the answer would be no, but he wanted to see if you would be honest with him. 

You bit your lip, obviously flustered. "I...I couldn't concentrate...Sir."

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Couldn't concentrate?" He echoed your words, a hint of concern coloring his tone. "Did you complete your homework, at least?"

Again, you hesitated for a moment before responding a timid "I tried to, Sir." 

There was a silence as he digested your words, his eyes boring into yours. "If this...arrangement of ours interferes with your academics, or your health, it will end immediately," he stated, his voice firm. "Do you understand?"

You nodded, a soft 'Yes, Sir' escaping your lips. 

"Good," he approved, letting the stern façade slip away, replaced by an expression of anticipation. He took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, the nervous girl in laced stockings, awaiting his command. 

"Come here," he beckoned, leaning back in his chair and patting his lap. The command went straight between your legs. You hesitated, not trusting yourself to stand, but you obeyed, moving to sit in his lap. His hand immediately settled on your waist, steadying you. The other hand rested on your knee, his fingers gently tracing the fabric of your stockings until they reached the line of lace adorning the middle of your thigh. He let out a soft, approving hum as he appreciated your obedience to his request. 

"Good girl," he praised, his voice lowering into a whisper, stirring a thrilling shiver down your spine. His hand slid further up your thigh, disappearing under your skirt. He let his hand wander even higher, his fingers ghosting over your bare skin, noticing the lack of underwear. You squirmed, your body arching instinctively towards him. Your movements elicited a soft gasp from him and you could feel his length hardening against you. 

The hand that was resting on your waist snaked up to your neck and then reached to gently grab your chin, turning your face towards him, his thumb grazing your lips, pressing into your mouth. You obediently started sucking on it, your eyes never leaving his. The sight of you, eyes wide and innocent, your mouth working over his thumb, made his erection twitch in the confine of his trousers. 

He slowly withdrew his thumb, trailing it across your cheek, before tangling his fingers into your hair, tilting your head back slightly. His lips hovered mere millimeters away from yours, your breaths mingling. "Are you going to be a good girl for me?" he asked, his voice barely more than a husky whisper. "Are you going to do as you're told?" 

You nodded eagerly, unable to trust your voice again. He let out a soft chuckle, seeing how flustered he could make you with only a few words and touches. He tugged on your hair, pulling your head back just enough to expose your throat. He pressed the softest kiss below your ear, before sucking a mark there. His. His mark. His territory. 

This was too much, you wanted more, needed more. You arched further into his touch, straining for a hint of contact, a fraction more pressure from his hand from his hand that had remained teasingly still under your skirt. But the man was not one to be rushed. 

"Now, now. Have we forgotten our manners already?" he gently scolded, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in an amused smile. His movements stilled completely, effectively freezing you in your tracks. He savored the sight of you: flushed, desperate, and teetering on the edge. 

"Use your words, ask nicely," he urged you. 

His directive sent a rush of warmth through you. You were flustered, your words stumbling out in a breathless rush, "Please..."

"Please, what?" he prodded, a soft chuckle escaping him again. The pleasure he took from your desperation, from your submission, was evident on his face. 

Your lips parted as you drew a shaky breath, finally adding the one word he'd been waiting for. "Please...Sir," you stammered, your cheeks flaming as the words left your mouth. His eyes softened at your admission, his lips curling into a pleased smirk. Your squirms and tiny whimpers sent delicious jolts of pleasure through him, his hard length pressing insistently against you. 

His fingers began to move again, trailing further up your thigh, ever so teasingly close to where you wanted him most. "Keep your eyes on me," he instructed you, watching as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. "Stay still," he ordered, letting his fingers dance around the most intimate part of you. The most desperate whimper escaped your lips, a sound that was music to his ears, pushing him to the brink of control. You involuntarily arched into his touch, making him withdraw his hand abruptly. 

"Did I not tell you to stay still?" he reminded you, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Good girls listen, remember?"

"I...I'm sorry, Sir," you managed to stammer out. You felt his hand around your waist tighten, anchoring you firmly to his thigh, not allowing you the satisfaction of grinding down on his fingers. This was his game, his rules, and you would have to play by them. 

Satisfied with your answer, his hand disappeared beneath your skirt again, your breath hitching in anticipation. His fingers ventured further up, tracing the damp path his touch had created until one finger pressed at your entrance. His eyes studied your reactions, your pupils blown wide with desire, your chest heaving. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice steady despite the clear arousal in his gaze. 

"Yes...Sir," you panted, your voice trembling with need. 

His finger pushed further inside you, a low growl escaping his lips as he felt your warm tightness clench around him. His thumb began to trace lazy circles on your clit, his touch maddeningly slow. Your hands instinctively clenching onto his shirt, desperate for some form of stability. Your knuckles turned white with the effort of staying still. He set a steady rhythm that had you trembling, your body fighting the urge to move, to chase the pleasure he was so expertly teasing out of you. 

He continued his rhythm, bringing you to the edge of release only to stop abruptly. He was enjoying this too much, the control, the power, the trust you had placed in him. He could feel his arousal pressing into you, the tightness of his trousers now bordering discomfort. But he ignored it. This was about you, about taking care of you, making you feel good. 

"Sir..." you whimpered, the loss of contact making your hips buck up in search of his touch. But he held you steady, his hand on your waist keeping you in place. His rhythm was cruelly timed, just enough to build your anticipation before denying you release. 

"Please...Sir," you cried out, the words a desperate plea. 

He chuckled, his voice laced with an edge of amusement. "Poor thing," he cooed, his voice dripping with feigned sympathy. "Look at you, so needy. Can't hold on any longer?" 

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, ashamed of yourself for being so desperate, so vulnerable. But in this moment, it didn't matter. You were so close and you didn't want to dare reaching that sweet release without his permission. 

"Tell me, what do you want?" he asked, pulling his fingers away once more and smirking at the whimper of protest that escaped your lips. 

You were a blushing mess, your eyes pleading with him as you struggled to find your voice. "P-please...I n-need...," you stammered, unable to finish the sentence. 

"Yes?" he prodded, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to the evident arousal in his eyes. 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before speaking again. "I-I need to...to come, Sir. Please..." you admitted. 

A low growl rumbled in his chest at your admission, the sound sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. "Good girl," he praised. His finger, slick with your arousal, ventured back inside you, this time adding a second one. You gasped at the stretch, the pressure, but he kept his pace slow, steady, letting you adjust to the feeling of being filled. 

"Relax," he instructed, his fingers moving in rhythm with the steady circling of his thumb over your clit. Your body obeyed, relaxing into the touch, and soon his touch was robbed of all gentleness, setting a pace that had you panting and moaning beneath him. The relentless assault had you whimpering, your mind focused on nothing but the waves of pleasure he was eliciting from you. 

"Let go," he encouraged, a soft whisper in your ear. "You're such a good girl...let go for me." 

With a final whimper, you let yourself succumb to the pleasure, your body convulsing in his hold as you rode out the waves of your climax. Your body arched into his touch, your hands clutching at his shirt. He didn't stop his movements until you slumped against him, completely spent. 

"That's my girl," he praised, a note of pride in his voice. He withdrew his fingers slowly, bringing them to your lips. His eyes met yours with a silent instruction. You obediently took his fingers into your mouth, cleaning them with your tongue, your taste mingling with the salty remnants of your climax. He watched you, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight of you, flushed and sated and completely at his mercy. 

"I think," he said in a low, husky voice, "we should move this to the bedroom." You swallowed thickly, your pulse racing, but nodded, letting him guide you up on your feet. 

His room was a reflection of him. A large, comfortable looking bed sat in the middle, the sheets rumpled and inviting. Dark wood furniture filled the room, bookshelves lined the walls. There was a distinctly masculine scent to it, a mixture of parchment, leather bound books and something else, uniquely him. 

He led you to the bed, his hand warm and steady on the small of your back. You could feel his gaze on you, it was heated, predatory. "Sit," he commanded. You obeyed instantly, perching on the edge of the bed. He stood in front of you, your eyes at the perfect level with the bulge in his trousers. 

His hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer. "I want you to see what you do to me." 

His grip in hair tightened, the sweet pain making you gasp, your lips now mere centimeters from his erection clearly outlined against the fabric of his trousers. You could feel your cheeks burning at the sight. It was a powerful thing, to know that you could evoke such a reaction from him. It was intoxicating. 

He took a step back, his gaze taking in your shivering form. His hands reached out towards the buttons of your blouse, the touch making you flinch slightly. His fingers worked slowly, undoing each button with meticulous care. "Relax," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm as the material fell away, exposing your delicate skin. 

Reaching behind you, he unclasped your bra with practiced ease, discarding the fabric with a flick of his wrist. You trembled, exposed and vulnerable, yet you held his gaze. His hands traced down your sides, stopping at the hem of your skirt. "These," he stated, his fingers ghosting over the fabric of your skirt and stockings, "stay on." 

He gently pushed you, guiding you to lie down on the bed. His figure loomed over you as he positioned himself between your trembling legs. Your professor, still clad in his clothing, a cruel barrier between your bodies, pressed his hips into yours. The friction drew a sharp gasp from you, and you instinctively tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck. 

He was quick to catch you, his hand cupping your cheek, forcing your gaze back to him. "Look at me," he commanded. His hand slipped from your face, down to rest on your throat, his grip just tight enough to make you swallow nervously. 

He stilled, studying you under him, his thumb pressing ever so slightly into your soft skin. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper against the silence in the room. You wanted him to dominate you, to control you, even if this meant giving you permission to breathe. Your response was instinctive, your hand reaching up to press on his, urging him to tighten his grip. But he simply smirked at you, "Use your words."

You swallowed, your eyes flickering with a mix of fear and anticipation. "Y-yes, Sir," you stuttered, the honorific rolling off your tongue, only fuelling his arousal. His thumb pressed deeper into your skin, feeling your pulse there. 

Maintaining the pressure on your throat, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. The tenderness of the action stood in stark contrast to the dominance he held over you, the grip on your throat sending jolts of pleasurable fear through your body. Breaking the kiss, he moved to straddle you, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Deliberately, he began to loosen his tie, pulling it free from his neck and discarding it with a carelessness that had your breath hitching. He started on his shirt next, each button revealing more of his toned chest. Your eyes widened at the sight of his bare skin, your mind foggy with the realization that you were probably the first student to see this part of him. Sure, no other student had been on their knees gagging around him, but seeing this part of him, like this, felt different. It was more intimate. 

He caught your wandering gaze, the corner of his mouth curling up in amusement. He took hold of your hands, guiding them towards the buckle of his belt. You hesitated, your eyes darting up to meet his, silently seeking his approval. A low chuckle escaped his lips, "Go on," he encouraged. 

Your hands trembled as you reached for his belt, the metal clinking softly. Once you had the buckle undone, you moved to his trousers, pulling them open to reveal his black boxers. Your hands froze at the sight, your eyes looking back up at him, uncertain. 

"Keep going," he reassured you. You swallowed, reaching for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down, letting his erection spring free. He shifted back, pulling his boxers off completely before settling back between your legs. His bare skin against your was a new sensation, a very welcomed sensation. It felt warm, strangely soft, and safe. 

His tip brushed against you, teasing your entrance, yet he made no move to push forward, causing you to whimper softly, your breaths coming out in short gasps. He stilled, his dominant façade melting away for a moment to reveal the gentle, kindhearted Remus Lupin you knew so well. He looked down at you, his gaze soft, "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He lifted his hand to stroke your hair comfortingly. "We can stop at any time if you're uncomfortable." 

You loved that he was so caring, you felt safe, but you also wished he could read your degenerate mind. You didn't want him to be so gentle, so attentive. You wanted him to be rough, to use you, even if it was your first time. You shook your head- no, you absolutely didn't want to stop- a breathy plea of "Please, Sir," tumbling from your lips. Your hands came up to his shoulders, clinging to them in anticipation. The sight of you, so willing, so eager under him, had him teetering on the edge of losing control. 

He started pushing in, slowly, agonizingly slowly. A groan escaped his lips, the tightness around him was almost too much. You held your breath, the unfamiliar feeling of being stretched causing you to tense up. 

He paused, fully sheathed within you, giving you time to adjust to his size. His hand moved to your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek, "Breathe, love. Relax," he instructed gently. 

At your needy whimper, he began to move, setting a rhythm that had your breath hitching in your throat. Your small noises of pleasure spurred him on. "You feel so good," he groaned, his hand moving up to cup your breast before resting on your throat once more, pressing down just enough to slightly restrict your airways. 

You arched into him, your body begging for more. "H-harder...please, Sir," you begged, your words coming out breathlessly. His heart pounded in his chest at your plea. "Such a good girl for me," he praised, his movements becoming harder, driving you into the mattress. 

He moved his hand to your hair, tugging harshly to expose your neck. His lips descended upon your exposed neck, sucking a possessive mark into your skin. His other hand slipped down, tracing the line of your thigh, over the lacy stocking that clung to your skin. "Mine," he growled, the statement punctuated by a particularly harsh thrust. His grip tightened in your hair, pulling you closer to him as he buried himself deeper within you. His rhythm was relentless.  

Your breaths were becoming shallower, your body tightening around him. He could tell you were close, so close to that edge he had brought you to earlier. His movements became rougher, more aggressive as he began to lose himself in the pleasure of the moment. "Please..." you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies coming together. 

His body was coiling tighter, the pleasure mounting as he thrust deeper and harder into you. "Come for me," he rasped out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back. Your body tightened around him, your moans growing louder as you neared your second climax of the night. "That's it, good girl. Let go." 

With a final thrust, he stilled inside you, his body tensing as he spilled his seed within you. The pulsing sensation was enough to send you over the edge, your climax washing over you in waves. You clung to him, struggling to catch your breath. 

He remained still on top of you, your bodies pressed together, intimately connected. "Good girl," he praised, his lips brushing against your cheek as he planted soft kisses on your flushed skin. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice as he looked down at you. Your body felt heavy, exhausted. You could only manage a weak nod in response, your eyes still half-closed. 

"Did I hurt you?" he pressed, his gaze lingering on the mark he had left on your neck. You shook your head. He watched you carefully, his eyes studying you for any sign of discomfort or regret. All he saw was exhaustion and bliss. 

Slowly, he pulled out of you, the action causing you to let out a soft whimper in protest, leaving you feeling oddly empty. You barely registered his movements as he got up from the bed, only becoming aware of his absence when you felt the warmth of a cleaning spell between your legs. Your skirt and stockings were discarded, your body tucked under the comfort of his bed sheets. 

He settled next to you, pulling you close to him, cradling you in his arms as he murmured softly "I've got you." He kissed your temple, the action tender and loving, a contrast to the intensity of what had just happened. As much as you loved being manhandled, owned, dominated, right now, this is what you needed. His heartbeat, steady against your ear, was the most comforting sound you had ever heard. 

You knew this was not going to last forever, the reality of things pulling you out of your post-climax bliss. You would have to go back to your dorm soon, pretend to be a good, innocent little schoolgirl. But for now, you allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, the warmth of his body lulling you to sleep.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Random fic ideas

These are just random xreader ideas that I haven't started yet. If this interests anyone you can use the prompts/stories or just voice your opinions about them! Really just need them out of my head. (If you do use them pls tag me I'd love to read em 🥺)

Time travel scenarios:

- Lightning Era Reader goes back in time for a year, only to come back to a shattered timeline. Finding out that Barty Crouch Junior has broken everything to be with her again. (Hurtless by Dean Lewis)

-Marauders Era Muggleborn!reader goes back in time to Tom Riddles Era, where he finds out about her blood status. He tries to get a hold of this oddly powerful wix, only to find she's actively sabotaging his plans. (This isn't a Tom x reader fic, but it will center their relationship from rivals to friends, only for her to go forward in time once more and unleash a new wave of abandonment charged rage against the wizarding world) - (Hunter by Paris Paloma)

-Given the choice, Remus Lupin would go back in time and never involve himself with the Muggle!Reader he lost. Only in his plan to stray away his younger self, he meets her again. Truly to convince himself to walk away from the woman he loves all over again. (LOML by Taylor Swift)

-After James dies, the reader discovers a way to travel back in time to see him one last time, but she’s warned it can only be for one brief encounter. (You Said You'd Grow Old with Me by Michael Schultz)

Memory Loss ideas:

-Remus helps the reader Obliviate herself during the war, but before he does everyone gets together at the Maurader's one last time. They reminisce on their old memories and share their favorite times with the reader. Remus and the reader reminisce on what could and should have been between them; none of them noticing how much this all seems to be affecting James- who has been in love with the reader for years.

Normal scenarios :

- Poly!Wolfstar x Reader fic, after the events of Halloween 1981 Sirius is jailed- Remus and the reader have a falling out that results in him leaving. 12 years later they are forced to reunite for Harry. (Clean - Taylor Swift)

- James Potter will stop at nothing to stop Fred Weasley from coming around his daughter. The only reason he can give; 'he reminds me of myself.' (Magic! By rude)

- Barty x Tattoo Artist!Reader who can't stay out of his lap (I wanna be your Slave by måneskin)

-Slytherin wins the Quidditch cup for once, but what everyone is really paying attention to is how Regulus Black of all people, ran to Potter!Reader before anyone else. (Alchemy by Taylor swift)

-During the peak of the wizarding war, the reader is a Muggle who inadvertently befriends Remus and the others- learns about the magical world. She becomes one of Remus's closest confidants and helps him through some of his darkest moments. But after the Potters are killed and Sirius is imprisoned, Remus obliviates her to keep her safe from everything he had told her. This leads to complications, where she believes she is having flashes of a 'past life,' when the spell begins to fade. (All Too Well by Taylor Swift)

-During the First Wizarding War, the reader and James are are separated as he’s rises the ranks of the order, getting more missions and having to keep more and more secrets from her. To cope with her fear, the reader writes him letters every night, pouring out her love and worries letters she never intends for him to read. (What a time by Julia Michaels)

-Loving James Potter was knowing he'd give you up to save the world. Loving Barty Crouch Jr. was knowing he'd end the world rather then lose you.

-Fred Weasley fic about a Slytherin reader who never entertained Fred's advances. After the war, George sends her a post with one of Fred's old ideas books. Fred kept filled with jokes, pranks, and ideas for future products he never got the chance to share. Each page is filled with his personality, and she can almost hear him laughing with her. The book signed "for her, always."

-Sirius and the reader have always clashed, unable to see eye-to-eye on anything. But when he accidentally ruins her notebook in a prank gone wrong, she storms out feeling humiliated and hurt. Sirius, surprisingly, follows her to apologize.

-James and the reader are fierce rivals in the dueling club, always challenging each other to duels that usually end in both bruised egos and bruised bodies. But one night, after a particularly intense duel, James notices the reader is hurt and insists on helping her. (Much to no one but the reader's surprise)

-As captains of rival Quidditch teams, James and the reader have always been fiercely competitive, constantly taunting each other and getting into shouting matches on the pitch. When she beats him in a close match, he becomes noticeably sour and can’t hide his jealousy when other players congratulate her. "Why do you like everyone but me?"

- Sirius doesn't know what he hates more, your attitude or you going to the winter formal with Evan Rosier and not him.

- James Potter has always been a thorn in your side, with his constant flirting and his annoying cocky attitude. But when he starts to flirt and playfully banter with Lily Potter you can't stand it, but James just loves your reaction

[goblinpuppy35]

Out of Place Together

University Remus x Male Reader

(Previous Chapter) - Part 6 -(Next Chapter)

Summary: An academia-core themed story about the Marauders during their final year of university in the Muggle world. Soon after meeting each other  Remus begins to fall for one of Sirius' friends Y/N another shy student.

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

As Y/N's eyes opened in a blur from the early morning light, he was amused to see him and Remus were in the exact same position from the night before. Facing one another, their foreheads touching while their arms draped over each others sides. Gazing up towards the window Y/N could see small dropets of condensation running down the panes. A blurry mixture of yellow and orange shone through the misty glass, bathing the curly head of Remus still sleeping next to him. He was incredibly still, only the faint fall and rising of his chest indicated he was alive, he had the appearance of an statue, with chips across the stone work, all over his body. Even while wearing pajama bottoms and a shirt the bare skin on display was littered with marks. Being of such close proximity now Y/N could even make out a faded scare etched in from his eyebrow  down across his eyelid. Y/N knew he was the most beautiful man he had ever met and now he was waking up for the second time in this man's bed. 

The night before had a dreamy haze to it as Y/N thought back. Though in contrast to his normal unconscious state, the nightmare at the start. At the pub. With all the humiliation. Subsided into the sweetest dreams of being saved by those closest to him and then being in Remus' bed. In his arms, feeling his hands on his jaw, asking Y/N to be with him.

"Your miles away!"

Y/Ns mind was instantly drawn away from the memory from two weeks ago and brought back to the present. Where he was standing out on the street of the Marauders shared house. Looking down next to him Y/N observed that a old suitcase whose strained laches on impact with the hard pavement only seconds ago had burst open, stilling the contents of stained bedding and unwashed clothes down the street right next to his feet. Down the street was a dishevel clump of boxes and half open bin bags full of household objects. In Y/Ns peaceful reflection he had noticed none of this while carrying his lunch he'd picked up from the local café.

Y/N looked up to the window of the house from where the plummeting suitcase had ascended from and he was met with the face of James. James smiled down at the puzzled looking Y/N, half because he was glad to see his friend and half out of relief the flying suitcase he had chucked had not knocked him down thus adding splattering of tea and sandwich fillings to the tapestry of mess currently down their street. Just then the front door opened and shut promptly, 'Ah there you are' Sirius called out to Y/N cheerly walking towards him. Sirius stood next to Y/N and stared down the street with his hands on his hips with a glow of pride around him. "He's finally gone.' Sirius said as he took Y/Ns cup of tea and started to drink it, an action Y/N has become well accustomed to when being around his beloved friend. He also knew that for a while Peter was expected to move out. Shortly after the outburst at the pub apparently there had been several more disagreements within the house, drugs in the house being the final straw which resulted in James having to give Peter a definative choice. Either get your act together or get out. He went with the latter. "Two nights ago he just fucks off. Didn't even say goodbye and leaves all his stuff still here. We are clearing it out now." Sirius said as another loud thump of a bin bag landing on the ground followed. A majority of Y/N still felt really bad about the situation. He knew Peter meant a lot to the others with all their shared history, but clearly things had been pushed to the very edge. Regardless of their multiple awkward interactions Y/N did hope that where ever Peter ended up he would be okay.

He then watched as James with some effort squeezed a large cardboard box out of the window. It landed with a crash. Several vinyl records made daring escape and began to roll down the street. 'That's the las of it' James heaved, hanging his upper body out of the window 'god im exhausted'. 'Here you go' called up Sirius taking Y/Ns half wrapped sandwich out of his hand and with surprising aim hauled it upwards. Before any other emotion Y/N was simply impressed the other Marauder was able to catch it.

"Can you stop stealing my lunch. Please!" Y/N explained extending out his now empty hands. "Causing trouble?" a charmingly low smooth voice asked from the front doorway, now open again. A warm feeling emitted from Y/Ns chest and his eyed softened as he saw Remus' tall figure resting against the frame. Due to coursework piling up in both of their subjects the pair had not see each other for a few days. The sense of relief their faces expressed to one another in this moment made clear that this was already too long of a separation. "We were just about to tell him!" Sirius exclaimed excitedly, bouncing on his heels as he gave back a practically empty cup of tea to Y/N. "Why don't we show him" called out James from above before disappearing back in through the open window into the room. Remus has a unusual smirk across his scared face as well which peaked Y/Ns curiosity further, he stared at him waiting for an explanation. All Remus uttered was 'Come inside' as he lifted himself off the door frame allowing the others to walk into the house. Sirius went ahead. While Y/N walked under Remus' outstretched arm he greeted him quietly, still unable to submerge his flushed face. "Hey" Remus whispered back before sinking down kissing Y/N tenderly on the lips before directing him to go upstairs. Even an everyday kiss from Remus made Y/Ns legs feel weak as he climbed up the stairs. He met James and Sirius on the landing next to Peter's rooms door.

Y/N slowly walked in then observed the room in front of him. It clearly had been emptied out recently with bluetac stains from posters still on the walls and several dark marks across the carpet. There was also an undeniable smell of beer lingering in the room, hence why the window was left open. Several fresh houseplants had been placed on the windowsill, they softly swayed in the morning breeze. On the opposite end of the room was a second hand wooden desk and chair which was were Y/Ns interested peaked for draping over the chair was a lose navy over shirt. It belong to him. He had left it in Remus' room the last time he was over and had intended to pick it up today. Walking over he lifted it off the chair and then stared back at the three guys crowded in the door way. James and Sirius looked as if they were about to burst with smug excitement. Remus while smiling was carefully watching Y/Ns face while he pulled at the end of his moustache. Remus then saw Y/N confused face grow shocked and white and then frown. 'There. He's figured it out' Remus thought.

'Wait guys..' Y/N trailed off holding his shirt tightly in his hands. 'Before you say anything its completely perfect!' blurted out Sirius marching into the room. 'We are walking distance to the theatre and university library and split between all of us the rent will be the same as what you were paying before and you get the spectacular bonus of not having brain dead obnoxious housemates anymore'. 'Well maybe just one' James chimes in grinning towards Sirius. As Sirius continued to list all the benefits of the room and the house Y/N only half listening scanned the rest of the room. On the floor near the window was a large spacious single mattress with some bedding thrown over it.

"I figured you'd like your own space" Remus' low voice came from behind, his fingers delicately brushing up Y/Ns arm, 'Though I hope this wont deter you from sleeping in my bed. I've grown very fond of it', the taller man's hands brushed up to Y/N's shoulders and rested upon them, his head craned down and lightly kissed the curve of Y/N's neck. Y/N instant response was the smile from the contact however his mind felt as of it was in a sinking hole. "Are you guys sure about this" he finally murmured. "We talked about this weeks ago actually" James explained "Just took a fucking ages to get Peter to leave. Your one of our favourite people Y/N and that's not just Mooney's opinion so of course we'd love you to move in with us'. At last the words were said out loud and Y/N felt his chest rise and then instantly dip. He then become horribly aware that the others were all looking at him expectantly. 'I ... I will need to think it over' and without missing a beat Y/N escaped out of the door way to the bedroom. This took James and Sirius by surprised, staring at each other for a moment Sirius then started to try and follow Y/N. 'Don't.' declared Remus, not looking at either of his friends but looking off into a vague section of the door. He was pulling on the edge of his moustache again, 'give him a minute'.

Y/N had made his escape out of the kitchen door into the houses small back garden. The cold air against his skin was reassuring. A few moments later the same door was carefully opened again. He knew it was Remus. 'Your panicking' Remus stated in a matter of fact tone, 'no I'm not' Y/N replied unconvincingly. The fact that Remus could always to deduce how Y/N felt would annoy him if it wasn't one of his still new boyfriend many wonderful qualities. 'Do you not like the room?' Remus asked, 'no' replied Y/N sharply, 'because we've tried everything to get rid of that smell, i think it will just go in time'. 'No. I mean the room is perfect' Y/N explained disheartened. After a short pause Y/N sighed.

"I'm worried we haven't thought this through." Y/N finally huffed out as he continued to pass around the small patio, too tense to venture out into the grass. Remus rested his tall frame against the open door way and watched him. " What if you don't like me!" Y/Ns question made Remus laugh lightly "but I do." "Sure, but we've known each other for a few weeks and now your asking me to move in, you know nothing about me. What I'm like. How I act on a day to day basis." Y/N was struggling to pull out a cigarette out of its packet as he paced. "I like what I've seen so far." Remus replied calmly. "I'm a terrible morning person. I leave half drunk mugs everywhere. I make a complete mess in the kitchen when I cook. I snore if I've been drinking the night before". " I know." Remus couldn't help but smirk as he pulled out his own cigarette. Y/N wished he could glare at him but that curve across his face made him look so handsome. "I can be jealous and insecure over little things. I can be a mixture of indecisive and hyper fixated all at once. My self esteem is six feet under the ground we stand on". "We better get digging then" Remus said as he blew out a cloud of smoke upwards and then smiled kindly at Y/Ns stressed face. Taking a short intake of his own cigarette Y/N huffed rather then exhaled, "Are you just going to be fine with anything I say here?". "Well it's working so far." Remus' causal demeaner was starting to get to Y/N, "Seriously Remus". The werewolf took a moment to stare at his boyfriend. Small specs of rain highlighted against the lit window and doorway around him. "Do you think it's possible you are trying to find a reason for this to not work because you don't think you deserve it?" Remus' question was met with an even longer pause from Y/N. He has been about to put his almost finished cigarette to his quivering lip but then stopped. Stood very still before resting against the brick wall and along with a long sigh slide down the wall until he was sitting on the stone floor.

Even in this moment of uncertainty Y/N greatly cherished how he knew Remus' silence at this time was simple him patiently waiting for him to figure out where his mind was and find the right words. "I worry that I worry too much." another one of Remus' husky chuckles escaped his pressed lips "there's a statement". Annoyed Y/N found himself smirking too before he resumed his line of thought. "I worry that I'll worry so much about whether this is the right thing and whether I'm right for you that I will eventually ruin this honest to god perfect situation I've stumbled into with you. I'm worried I'll lose it." Finishing his cigarette Remus stamped it out and then walked out of the door way. Standing in front of Y/Ns folded up body his lowered himself into a squad in front of him. "Instead of worrying about losing it. Be happy in the now because we have it. And why is this all on you. I  want you to like me just as much" Remus said softly, taking his hand and running it through Y/Ns Y/H/C hair, "I know I can be quiet and in my own world most of the time, I just hope I can let you see that you truly are the centre of my world. Everything I promised you before is still true. I still pray to very corner of the universe I am able to maintain them so I don't lose you." Y/n leaned into the hand now pressing against his cheek. The rain left shining droplets across the tops of their heads.

Suddenly Y/N started laughing to himself, looking down at the floor before back up at Remus. He couldn't believe what he was about the say, 'A are we in love?'. Resting his head on Y/Ns forehead and Remus smiled and then chuckled back, "yeah I think we are".

'So are you joining our insane household or not!' came an unceremonious cry from above. Both men tilted their heads up the back wall of the house to see Sirius leaning out of the window now belonging to Y/Ns new room. "Well if you can't beat them join them.

[seleneprince]

File about Severus Snape's werewolf daughter (because she deserves it and I want to do it)

Name: Juliana Eileen Prince

Born: 30 August 1980

Blood status: Pureblood

Nationality: British with Italian roots

Also known as: Julia, Jules, Princess (by Draco), Prince Bastard, that viper (by Sirius Black), Snape's girl.

Species: Werewolf (since birth)

Hair: Ivory black

Eye colour: Onyx black with motes of grey

Family:

Severus Snape (father)

Unnamed werewolf woman (mother, deceased)

Eileen Prince (paternal grandmother, deceased)

Tobias Snape (paternal grandfather, deceased)

Boggart: Her father's corpse

Patronus: Snake

Affiliations: Hogwarts, House Prince, House Malfoy (she's practically one of them), wherever her father is.

House: Slytherin or Hufflepuff

Faceclaim: Jessie Mei Li (Shadow and Bone)

Trivia:

-She's half Asian on her mother's side.

-She's Severus Snape #1 defender and supporter. She adores her dad and will gladly fight anyone that insults him. She's not afraid of facing grown ass men is she sees them disrespecting him.

-House Prince has Roman-Italian roots, so Severus gave her a Latin name that means "woman of strong roots", and it can be abreviated to "Julia", a very common Roman name. Her second name is because Severus wanted to honor his mother but felt that it could be a bad omen giving it as first name. He doesn't want to accidentally curse his child to the same fate.

-She's only called Juliana by the teachers and her father. For everyone else she's mostly Julia. Jules is for friends only.

-To the public, she's considered an illegitimate child from House Prince, an ancient family of purebloods whose line was thought to be extinct.

-Severus wasn't going to ask the Malfoys to be the godparents because he didn't think they would want anything to do with a child with lycanthropy. They were furious at his reasoning and proclaimed that any child of his was considered family to them.

-So yeah Lucius and Narcissa are the godparents, because they wouldn't have it any other way.

-Because of this, Draco and Julia have been practically raised together and share a very close bond.

-He accepts Julia's condition but it doesn't apply for others like her. He's an hypocrite like his parents.

-She has her own room in Malfoy Manor because of how often she has spent the night there, thanks to her father's busy life. They also have a special room for her during the full moon nights.

-The only people that know of her condition are Severus, the Malfoys and Dumbledore.

-Remus finds out as soon as he interacts with her and he's flabbergasted.

-She's been learning Potions ever since she was old enough to hold a spoon. There's no way in hell Severus Snape wouldn't teach his daughter Potions.

-Despite this, her favourite subject is Care for Magical Creatures. She has a knack for it and connects with them better than with humans.

-Regardless of which house she ends up in, she'll be friends with the Slytherins.

-She plays Beater in the quidditch team. It's the only time she doesn't have to worry about her strenght.

-Ron is her favourite of the Golden Trio, but she's interested in Harry's trayectory.

-Really sharp and developed senses. Nothing ever escapes her. She also gets easily overwhelmed the days prior the full moon.

-She's a natural Legilimens like her father, which she found out after accidentally seeing one of his memories once. It was very uncomfortable for both.

-Severus has never told her the whole story with the marauders, only some pieces of it here and there. She knows it from the Malfoys and her own individual research (aka peeking into certain people's minds).

-Because of this, she dislikes Sirius and Remus a lot, specially the first. She doesn't see the point on hating James Potter if he's dead.

-One of the effects of her lycantropy is that she's naturally good with Dark Arts. Might be the only useful and painless thing her condition gave her.

-Her copying mechanism is dark humour, which she started to apply first with her lycantropy. She makes jokes about it and tries to take it with philosophy. She's not asshamed of it.

-She knows how to brew the wolfsbane potion but still prefers when her dad does it.

-At some point she has to share the Shrieking Shack with Lupin for the full moon nights. It makes an awkward experience for both.

-She goes by Prince instead of Snape to hide the fact that she's Severus' daughter. This was decided by Severus himself, to protect her from the danger of being associated with him. Julia isn't fond of this idea, but understands the reasons behind it.

-She doesn't really aprove of Draco's behaviour most of the time, but is too amused by it to stop him. If she really dislikes something he did, she'll play along in public but will chastize him in private. Kinda "I don't agree with you but I'll defend you anyway because we're supposed to be a team".

-She knows more than she should. Severus long gave up on trying to hide anything from her.

(In this AU, lycantropy has nothing to do with AIDs. It's a blood curse that happens to be contagious and, like all curses, it can be passed down to generations)

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

"It’s haunting to know that you still cry for something today that you also cried for 15 years ago."

Umm idk if this is too personal but would you break down why you gave each marauder the line that you did?

For some reason, Sirius' really stuck with. Literally I can't stop thinking about it.

If there was an award for best ask anon, I think you would win!!! I love when people ask about the intricacies of my writing because I just feel like everything that I write is so deeply personal to me!

This will be quite long as I think the best way to tackle this is to address each one with its context and then how I relate it to each marauder. So buckle in!!!

Anything underlined is referencing my other writing and will be linked!

See the original post here!

James: Two lives cannot overlap - one must be forgiven to forge the other. 

So I wrote this about the rivers of the Underworld in Greek mythology, in a wider piece of writing on coping with grief. It refers specifically to the river Lethe, the river of forgetting, where souls drink from it to forget their life before being reincarnated. I have mixed feeling about James as a character - on one hand as a young boy he's incredibly privileged to the point of almost ignorance but then is forced into a war he cannot fight and reasonably win. In a way this line can be applied to James in two ways: 1) he had to grow up to cope with the rapidly changing world he'd been basically thrown into and 2) harry could never defeat Voldemort if his parents were still alive. James and lily had to die so harry would have nothing to lose.

Sirius:  It’s haunting to know that you still cry for something today that you also cried for 15 years ago.

Okay so this was written in the same piece as above, in reference to a childhood memory. I cried for comfort but no one could come to me. No one chose to comfort me in that moment. I think we all have moments where we think 'I need my mum' or something similar but at it's core, its a plea for comfort - you want to be held, cradled, for the burden to be taken away. Sirius Black was denied affection as a child, denied love as an adult and then denied his life when he fell through The Veil. He had his friends as support but he also had to stare at James and Effie, Remus and Hope. He had moments where he needed parental love, where he felt like he would die without it. He was denied the chance to make sure Harry never experienced that, and when he did get the chance, it was ripped away almost immediately.

Remus: It is strange to cling onto remnants of someone who is no longer there.

This was written about losing someone and still having to live amongst their things. Everything is normal except the person is gone. It's describing that moment when you walk into a room and you feel their presence, like you're in the living room and it's so easy to convince yourself they're in the kitchen, but they aren't. The space they left behind is empty. I think with Remus, again it can apply in two ways: 1) himself - his whole identity is basically fed to him through the label of 'werewolf', the Order use him as a monster to tame a bigger beast. He is constantly mourning. In Hogwarts, he mourns his younger self. In the Order, he mourns the teenage, full of life, naive version of him. As an adult he mourns every version of himself - they trail behind him like a ball and chain. 2) everyone he loses - Remus outlives his best friends, and even the one he gets back, oh god he got him back but at what cost? Remus is a walking graveyard.

Peter: In every story, someone has to leave. This is not a burden taken lightly, nor is it one that can be shared.

I wrote this about Caesar and Brutus. When Caesar died, so did Brutus. As Brutus lives, so does Caesar. Today when one is mentioned, the other rarely goes unnamed. Brutus orchestrates the murder of Caesar because he fears his ambition and the ruin it will bring to Rome. Peter is both Caesar and Brutus. He fears Voldemort enough to do his bidding only because he's never had such power before. We see exactly how Peter's loyalty is manipulated - he felt more important to Voldemort then he did to his friends and so his loyalty changed accordingly.

Lily: The sunflowers turn to the light, but the sun will never recognise their presence.

Growth is difficult to justify in a non-physical sense. This was inherently about being an observer in my own life. We do things that have unremarkable impacts until one day the fallout of our actions are so grand we cannot outrun them. In terms of Lily, I do think in hindsight this may be more relevant to her characterisation moreso than her character. She is often represented as just a vessel to carry Harry and is overlooked as a complex character and a key member of the Order. James forgot his wand on the sofa - she protected Harry. She was an incredibly smart witch - she was, is, more than just her offspring. Treat her accordingly.

Regulus: One day we all realise that the first thing we lose is ourselves.

My earliest memory is a hospital visit and a funeral. We do not realise that the process of growth is intertwined with the ritual of loss. You are allowed to mourn the person you used to be. Death isn’t exclusive to those burned or bombed or buried. Regulus loses his brother then he loses himself. He has a role to play as the prodigal son. He is actively cutting himself open and stitching himself back up to fit seamlessly into the mould his parents have created for him. He watched Sirius fail, so he couldn't. Maybe he did believe in blood supremacy at first or maybe the whole thing was a ploy to try and grasp at the power and autonomy he'd grievously been denied his entire life. Regulus knew himself so well he'd buried the body undetectably.

Pandora: Nobody talks of death lightly. Nobody talks of what it tends to leave behind.

We obsess over death - how to prevent it, how to cope with it, how to be clinical about it. Yes a person dies and we are left with the aftermath - clothes, shoes, pictures, their tea in the cupboard, hair still in the brush. But obviously, a person dies. People are complexes - the most inherent part of death to me is how a person can just end. With Pandora, this sits within the realm of the HC that she is a seer. She must standby and watch the people she loves die twice - once in her head and once in real life. She must watch over her friends and loved ones and grieve them as she lives alongside them. To her, a heart is just a stopwatch.

Evan: He carried on with his journey but made time to be part of mine.

I met an old man who told me that at the end of the day, you do wish you could it all over again. That we are often ungrateful until we lose the thing, then all we want is to get it back. Evan Rosier cherished everything; his sister, his friends, his childhood. But this made him so weary of loss. He was possessive and sometimes cruel. He would do anything to keep what was important to him, even join a blood supremacy cult to keep his best friends and sister safe. When you die, they say you get seven minutes to rewatch the happiest moments. When Evan Rosier dies, he sees Barty and Reg and Pandora.

Barty: You can love something that does not exist anymore. Something that has never existed cannot be loved.

This one is slightly harder to explain. I believe it to be human nature to chase the things that we have only had a taste of. You cannot want something you do not know. Though I do wonder if this is more an act of conditioning than something inherently of nature. To cognise something is to give it a reality, whether this be a thought, an idea or a notion.  Barty Crouch Jr was a waste of potential. 12 OWLs. 4 languages. He could've been whatever he wanted. You can assume he was unsuccessful in fulfilling his potential - unless he wanted to be dead. And who can blame him with a father like that. Barty had to fabricate everything - would lick up his father's approval like a dog until the day he realised none of it actually mattered.

Dorcas: All prior things are made of shards, of tatters. All prior things look different in the daylight.

Past lives are just that. Past, nonexistent. Windows are walls. Shields are not always protective. Dorcas Meadows was hunted and slaughtered by Voldemort himself. She, obviously, was a threat. A smart, cunning, powerful witch who made the Dark Lord himself worry just how successful he'd be if she remained alive. But none of this mattered from the second she hit the floor, heart slowing down, eyes closing. She was not the priest's favorite sacrificial lamb. She wasn't even a sacrifice.

Marlene: One day I will sit in an urn, and I too will be smaller than the day I arrived.

I wrote this about not rushing through life. It was about savoring moments and people and the ephemeral. Marlene was the casanova - wanted by all but touched by few. Her bloodline dies when she dies next to her brother. Filled with potential and life, even the brightest stars will fade away. Sacrifice is often forgotten, drawn over, especially if it isn't grand. Not quite the brightest witch of her generation, nor pretty enough to get the one person she truly wanted.

Mary: I wonder if forgetting is betrayal or if it’s a favour, a privilege of rest.

I was wondering whether remembering people disturbed the process of dying. We don't know of an afterlife or what happens after you die. Does reminiscing drag a soul away from rest? I hold the HC that Mary obliviated herself near and dear. In this way, it's just another person coping with loss. I think because it's so deeply personal, it's very difficult to express in words.

Andromeda: We learn that just because one person escapes the inevitable, the other does not.

I wrote this about Orpheus and Eurydice. It's a story I adore and it's also often misunderstood. This is why it’s a tragedy, and why love often is a tragedy - loss is inevitable. In the case of Orpheus and Eurydice, he loved her enough to try and save her. He loved her so much that he couldn’t. Andromeda is the survivor - survives her upbringing, survives a war, outlives her family. She takes in Teddy even though he's a glaring reminder of her daughter and every moment of a past she tried to outrun.

Narcissa: Love is always a choice, even when we make the wrong one.

Again, this is from me writing about Orpheus and Eurydice. Their story was never about retrieval or righting a wrong. Even if Eurydice had been returned, she was a ghost. This was always a story about saying goodbye. Oh I could lament about Narcissa for days. She is her own greatest tragedy. She was the model child out of her sisters. She lived the ideal trajectory and suffered for it. Obedience and cunning were bred into her. She couldn't save her husband, her house, her sisters or her son. Narcissa lived her life always saying goodbye, wishing she could instead say 'stay'.

Bellatrix: Sometimes, it feels like I have been exiled from my life and no one has thought to tell me.

This was written about nostalgia, and living like a stranger in your own life. It's about the means and ways and things we do to gain some semblance of control back into our lives. Bellatrix has always been a very interesting character to me. She upholds her pure blood upbringing, marries a pure blood and yet she strives for more. She becomes a deatheater and makes herself so valuable to Voldemort, she becomes an intrinsic part of his inner circle. She outshines her husband and sisters - she is the patriarch.

Anon. I hope this answers your question! If you'd like further details on any of these please send me another ask or DM! I'd love to hear your thoughts instead of scribing mine!

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic Prompt 3 - Darkfic

TW: Mentions of sexual assault and non-consensual incest. Nothing graphic is described at all. Mentions of Black family homophobia.

Words: 825

@wolfstarmicrofic

***

Sirius looked up at his mother’s portrait, which continued to scream at him.

“Filth! Degenerate! How dare you return to my house?”

He fired off a few curses, none of which made any difference of course. He sat down on the landing and just let her scream.

When Remus returned, several hours later, he found Sirius with a glassy look on his face and Walburga still shrieking.

“Would you shut the fuck up?!” He bellowed.

“Half-breed! Do you think you can command me? You’re lucky not to be put down like the vermin that you are!” Remus rolled his eyes and looked down at Sirius.

“How long have you been sat here?” Sirius remained staring straight ahead. Remus crouched and reached for his hand. “Pads?”

“Do not touch my son! Do not sully this household with your disease. Sodomite! Half-Breed!”

“Oh, so he’s your son now? I don’t remember you being a parent for at least twenty-five years, and you’ve only been dead for ten of those.” Remus squeezed Sirius’ hand. “Muffliato.”

It didn’t silence her completely, but it helped pull Sirius out of his stupor. “Moons?” He said, in a small voice.

“Let’s go downstairs. We won’t hear her from there. I've got you, come on.” He pulled Sirius to his feet and wrapped an arm around his waist so he could lean on him. “Were you sitting there the whole time I was out?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I just— I started remembering things and they were worse than I thought.” They arrived in the living room and Remus set them both down on the squishy sofa that Remus had transfigured from the old furniture. “I don’t know how much I told you, before.”

Before always meant Before Azkaban. A lot of Sirius’ positive memories of school and the first war were gone, or at least warped and faded. Remus did his best to regale him with tales of the marauders and the flat they’d shared afterward, going as far as secretly writing them down and planning to gift the book to Sirius at some point, and hoping he’d share the stories with Harry.

“You managed to avoid the subject most of the time, I think. Unless there was physical evidence,” Remus looked down at the key-shaped scar on Sirius’ arm, which had been carefully inked around. “You didn’t want to tell us anything you didn’t have to. We knew it was bad, though.”

“Someone told her I had a boyfriend once.” Sirius slumped against Remus’ chest. “Not you, I think it must have been… What was his name? The Ravenclaw, I think.”

“Benjy Fenwick.” Remus stroked Sirius’ hair slowly. “You were together for a few months in fifth year.”

“It must have been one of my cousins. Doubt it was Andromeda. Do you know what my mother did when I came back for the summer?” Remus shook his head. “She locked me in my room with Bellatrix.”

“Why would she—” It suddenly dawned on Remus what he was implying. “Oh, Pads, no.”

He nodded. “She said she was going to cure me. That I was disgusting and unwell. At one point, mother came in and watched.” Remus felt sick. “Practically cheered her on.”

Remus wrapped his arms around him tight. “I am so sorry. That’s awful. If she wasn’t dead I’d kill her myself, and if I ever see Bellatrix again…”

“She’s still in Azkaban.” He said flatly. “They put her in the cell next to mine for a while.”

“We shouldn’t have come back here.” Remus said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I have nowhere else to go.” Sirius’ voice broke. “I’m more trapped here now than I was when I was a child.”

“You got out once. We'll get you out again.” Remus reminded him, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he sobbed. “Let me talk to Dumbledore.”

“You can’t tell him.” Sirius sat up, quickly. “Don’t tell him.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Pads.”

“Do not tell him.” Sirius hissed, through sniffles. “He’ll think I’m even weaker than I am.”

“You’re not weak. You have survived so much horrific shit. You’re the strongest person I know. I won’t give him details, I promise, but I need to express to him how vital it is that we move somewhere else.”

“It’ll be just another place for me to wake you up by screaming.”

“But my house won’t scream back at you.” Remus took him by the shoulders. “I need you to trust me on this.”

“I think you’re the only person I do trust.” Sirius’ face was unreadable. “I wish I’d told you back then.”

“I understand why you didn’t. We’ll get you through this, I promise.” He brushed Sirius’ hair off his face and Sirius had a sudden flash of a memory from the summer he’d finally run away to the Potters’. Remus, silhouetted in sunlight, brushing the hair off his wet face, telling him it would all be ok.

[kiwi2229]

Engraving in the stone

(James Potter / Regulus Black | 537 words)

For @jegulus-microfic prompt: Glimpse

CW: Referenced to past MCDs

Say that being back at Hogwarts after so many years is hard is an understatement. When Remus accepted the job, he didn’t think about how the memories would haunt him, how every corner would be a reminder of how alone he is. No, he thought that Hogwarts was the only place he felt happiness. Fortunately, the students kept him busy for his mind to drown in melancholy. But tomorrow is Christmas and that means the castle is almost empty.

Remus wonders around and it feels like he can see a glimpse of his past life behind every corner. For a moment he allows himself to live in denial. He pushes all the sad memories away. All the war and betrail, death and heartbreak.

Instead, he focuses on laughter that echoed in the halls. James had such a bright smile. It brightens the room instantly. In retrospect Remus has to admit that James was the happiest in their 6th year. Remus never understood why James fell in love with Regulus out of all people. But he didn’t need to understand. All it took was to remember the way James’ eyes sparkled so full of life. How he talked to Remus about his boyfriend, because he just had to share it with someone.

He saw them only a handful of times together. They had to keep their relationship a secret. But the times he witnessed them he can swear it was love. James always loved with his whole heart. Remus never had a doubt. It was Regulus who surprised him. He watched James like he was the eighth wonder of the world. He touched him in such a delicate way like James was the world's most valuable treasure.

Remus sits at the hidden enclave way at the abandoned part of the castle. He traces the old stones that have been here for centuries and will stand here way after all of them are dead. Unchanging constant. Walls of this castle witnessed children grow up, and lovers fall in love in the most surprising way, they laugh and kiss, cry and argue. It remembers them breaking up and trying to move on. Most of the people are gone now. Their footsteps will never echo in these halls.

Remus traces the scratched R + J into the stone wall in the enclave. It was their hiding spot. They spend hours here just being in love and young. Remus wishes to go back in time and stop them from leaving. Not to rush through it. To tell them to stay here even five minutes more, because you never know when you will run out of time. And they did, way too soon. He can’t. They are both gone, destroyed in the war they had to fight.

He used to be angry and how it all played out. That Regulus stayed with his family being on the opposite side of the war. But they were children back then. He is not anymore. He understands now that stories are never this simple. He looks back at the engraving. He throws a preservation spell on it. At least this way, the memory of love that never could survive in the cruel world will live on.

[ala-baguette]

OK but now I really want your "whole meta" about how "Remus talks about Harry when Harry's not around" because, ow my heart!

Im never sure on how to feel about Lupin, because on the surface he's likable, but under that-- where you been, dude? Would love to have you change my mind!

Noooo! Don't Tempt Me, Anon! No, really. I would love to, but maybe let's revisit that after I'm done with Knowing Where to Look. I could totally talk about Remus all day, but at this point it would just look like procrastination (which it definitely is). What I will offer you today: Remus is a character you have to love for his flaws. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately?) clinically depressed blurbos completely lacking in self-worth are my peeps. To paraphrase my thoughts on this topic for now:

Remus's absence is not about his feelings for Harry; it's about his feelings for himself.

I'll leave it at that for now and perhaps one day we'll come back with a proper meta on the subject. In the meantime, however, I have several Remus-centric fics I can offer to showcase some of my views on Remus and his relationship with Harry. I somehow always come back to writing Remus and he is featured heavily in several of my Left Behind stories as well as one of my early long fics. I will link here in case you have not read them and are interested:

A Life Filled with Laughter and Ice Cream, Florean Fortescue's Left Behind installment. This one is probably the most relevant to his relationship with Harry (or lack there of). Set during PoA, Florean and Remus share an ice cream and a chat about their lives during and since the first war.

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables, Remus Lupin's Left Behind installment. Remus takes another stroll down memory lane (and the streets of Godric's Hollow) after his argument with Harry in DH.

To Crave a Dementor's Kiss, Nymphadora Tonks's Left Behind installment. The Remadora story from OotP through HBP. This one is less about Remus's relationship with Harry and more about his relationship with Tonks, but I do think it's a look at some of my feelings on his characterization. (One of these days I'd like to return to this one and rework it-- This was a very early Left Behind story and I was still finding my stride.)

A Lonely Path, my first long fic. An AU with a paternal Remus-Harry relationship. I add this to this list with some hesitancy as it is long, has less basis in canon, is quite old and my views and writing have changed, contains a fair amount of wish-fulfillment regarding Remus's ability to love, and I wrote it when I was 19, so it's rather an immature plot. However, I also don't feel like I can list my writing featuring Remus and not include it. If you chose to take the plunge into my 19 year-old mind, take it with a grain of salt, a little grace, and more as a way to see how my views on this character have evolved over the years.

Thanks for the Ask, Anon, and sorry to not answer you properly. Hope these fics can satiate you for the time being. Now I've got a final chapter of Knowing Where to Look to write!

[padsmoony04]

My Favorite Headcannon of The Marauders pt.1 (maybe?)

Sooo ... long story short, I was looking for some headcannons about the Marauders (and because I love them and I love these thing of imagine how they would act and behave) I have decided to share with you some of my favorite headconnons about them.

Ps. Sorry in advance on my writing and all of that, my first lenguaje is not English sooo It might contain a lot of grammatical errors. Anyways it's my first time writing here so I hope you all enjoy this <3

| Sirius Black Pt2. | Remus Lupin Pt.3 |

James Potter EDITION.

First things first, you might agree with me, you might not agree with me, but I'm a truly believer that my boy here is certainly the reason the Marauders exist as a friend group. Maybe it was when they met on his first day on the Hogwarts express, kinda like a Harry and Ron dynamic. Or maybe it was at his first night in the castle when he realized who he was going to share his dorm with. Either way, it doesn't matter where, when, and how, but surely it all started with that sweet smile on James's face telling those boys to be his friends.

“It was James who had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match it” THIS! This man was made to love people as much as he loves himself (and that is a lot).

We all already know he's one true passion and incondicional lover, Quidditch, I mean, that boy is obsesses.

He definitely has a lot of things in his wardrobe that have the color red, like shirts, shorts, coats, hats, a pair of convers, etc. And like they all are in different shades of red.

Blind. The boy is nearsighted, surely he has 4 or 6 myopia. And I know for a fact that if his glasses break, and he's not able to fix them, it would be the end of the world for him 'cause he won't distinguish a thing.

He is definitely stubborn, but like very, very stubborn. Tell James that he needs to stop, and for him, I'll be like, You just told him,"Go ahead! do it!".

He's literally a puppy, he's loyal, sweet, playful, he's always there when he's needed, and he also needs a lot of attention and love. Besides, when he makes someone that he cares about mad, he would do this thing of looking at the floor with a pout and regret in his ayes. How I said a literal puppy.

He loves to make jokes, most of them are bad jokes or dad jokes, which means that most of the time he laughs by himself.

He's the real definition of hopeless romantic and the definition of boyfriend material, and you can't change my mind.

He gives me the vibe that if he gets to the dining hall first, he will most likely save the boys a seat.

When he falls for someone, he falls badly. He would talk about that person every chance he gets. And of course, at one point, none of the boys will be able to stand him.

He's really persistent, which could be a positive or negative trait.

He's definitely the "You're doing it amazing sweety" of his friend group, and I'm here for it.

I like to believe that he has the snitch from his first game, which was given to him by Professor Mcgonagall as a memory of his first victory with Gryffindor, and think it's just something really sweet and I love it.

When someone makes a significant comment to him, he stiffens and blushes while blinking several times because he doesn't know how to respond to that.

He's really responsible in school (mainly 'cuase if he fails Euphemia would probably ground him). And yes, he doesn't reach Remus's and Lily's level, buuuut he has a tough competition with Sirius in "Who he's better that who?" When it comes to school.

Just because he's an only child and the complete center of attention most of the time, it hurts him a lot when people ignore him, mainly his friends and the ones he cares about.

He scratches the back of his neck slightly when he is nervous, and he also talks a lot.

He wakes up euphoric on the days that he has a Quidditch match, kinda like Harry when he drank the felix felicis/Liquid Luck potion in the 6th movie.

He is very protective of his friends, sometimes that can be too much, but he can't help it, he doesn't want anything bad happening to his loved ones.

Mommy's boy, all the way, he is literally Euphemia's little baby.

He's a little bit of the jealous kind. Not the toxic type, more of "Oh, that guy, it's flirting with you even though he knows I'm with you" type. (but he's never going to admit it thou).

you made him mad? Well, you better apologize really quick or just vanish. 'Cause whet he gets upset, he turns to the most mean, hateful, and biggest asshole you'll ever see, mainly cuase he's the type to keep his emotions to himsef, so when he explodes? He explodes.

An important fact is that after he "explodes," if he said something hurtful to you, he won't stop apologizing and cursing himself for being an ass until you forgive him.

His least favorite subject is potions, due to the fact that Severus won't stop bragging that he's a thousand times better than him.

If he gets drunk, he's the kind of soft drunk who gives hugs to everyone he comes across.

He is capable of learning about anything he's crush likes just to get into conversation with them.

He likes to stay late in the Gryffindor common room with his friends and talk about anything. It's a routine that he wouldn't change for anything in the world.

James always wanted a younger brother or sister, which explains why he couldn't help to be so happy when Sirius went to him the time he ran away from home.

He lends Peter his invisibility cloak so he can sneak into the kitchen to find food for the main fact that he's tiny.

He's very adorable in winter, his nose and cheeks turn red from the cold making him look adorable.

Talking about winter, the cold breeze gives him allergies. Don't ask me why I just know. Also, he LOVES Christmas as much as he loves Quidditch.

His favorite place in Hogsmeade is the three brooms.

Anyway, when it comes to color red, round glasses, dad jokes, butterbeer, quidditch, romance, loyalty, character, and determination are definitely the perfect words to describe James Potter.