#remus lupin x sirius black

[my-castles-crumbling]

transfiguration classroom - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 231

Tapping her quill against her lower lip, Professor Minerva McGonagall gazed down at her seating chart, then up at her empty classroom, contemplating the options. A new seating arrangement for the fifth years was a must, and this particular class was difficult to place.

But as she listed the students off in her mind, she knew which ones she had to place first: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.

Immediately, she wrote Potter and Black's name on opposite sides of the room, knowing it still wouldn't be good enough to keep them quiet, but at least this way they wouldn't be able to completely erupt into chaos. However, as she moved to place Lupin far away from both of his friends, she paused.

Black and Lupin had been different lately. She was getting older, sure, but she recognized the signs. Furtive looks and longing glances. Blushing faces and huge smiles.

Not that she cared about these things a a teacher, but...the two of them would be so good together. And they both deserved to be loved by the other, probably more than either of them realized.

Scratching out the 'R-' near the back of her chart, Minerva instead wrote 'Remus Lupin' in the square right next to 'Sirius Black.'

Sure, they would cause trouble. But maybe other things would happen as well.

NOT that she cared, of course.

[uhhlifeig]

Astronomy Tower - Nov. 19 - word count: 511 - @wolfstarmicrofic

The Astronomy Tower was quiet, a world away from the Gryffindor common room where Sirius Black’s birthday party raged on. 

Remus Lupin sat on the cold stone floor, his back pressed against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest. He tilted his head back, gazing at the stars in the inky black sky.

He’d never been one for loud celebrations. Crowds pressed in too close, the noise became too sharp, and he often found himself slipping away unnoticed. 

Tonight was no different. 

The soft creak of the door broke the silence.

"Thought I’d find you here," Sirius said. He stepped out of the stairwell, his silhouette framed by the moonlight.

Remus looked up, startled. "Shouldn’t you be at your own party?"

The boy shrugged, sinking down beside the werewolf, close enough that their shoulders brushed. "Didn’t want to be there without you."

Remus’s heart stumbled in his chest. He looked away, focusing instead on the stars. "I just needed some air."

"I know," Sirius said simply. He leaned back on his hands, his legs stretched out in front of him. "Too much noise. Too many people. You’ve told me."

"Yeah."

They sat in comfortable silence. The Tower felt like their own private sanctuary at night, when light illuminated the grounds and provided a tranquility that was so rarely seen at Hogwarts.

"Do you ever think about how small we are?" the noiret asked suddenly, his voice quiet.

The dirty blonde glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"Up there." Sirius gestured to the sky. "The stars. They’ve been there for ages. They’ll be there long after we’re gone. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? What our place is in all of this."

"Deep thoughts for someone who just blew out seventeen candles," Remus murmured.

The older boy laughed softly. "Birthdays are overrated anyway. Just an excuse for people to throw a party and pretend everything’s perfect for a night."

The taller boy frowned, turning to him. "Is everything not perfect for you?"

Sirius didn’t answer right away. He tilted his head back, his dark hair falling away from his face as he stared at the sky. "It’s just... complicated. The future is scary, you know?"

"Yeah."

"But it’s better when I’m with you lot. With you."

"You make it easier too," Remus admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The dog animagus turned to him, his gray eyes locking onto the other’s amber ones. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the world narrowing down to just the two of them and the faint hum of the night in the background.

"I think," Sirius began, "I think you’re the moon to my stars."

Remus’s breath hitched. "Sirius..."

But the boy was already leaning in, his eyes searching the other’s face for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he closed the distance, their lips meeting in a tentative, tender kiss. 

It was soft and sweet, and so, so caring.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested together, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.

"Happy birthday," Remus murmured.

[skyrigel]

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

[logolepsy-babble]

Lily: I want to confess something.

James: Go ahead!

Lily: I fancy girls.

Peter: Me too!

Lily: And… I fancy Mary…

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

Sirius: Wait what?

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

Sirius: Ex-fucking-scuse me?

[propussyslayer]

sirius: so what do you do for a living

remus: i hunt and kill zombies

sirius: the fuck no you don't

remus: have you ever seen one?

sirius: no?

remus: then you are fucking welcome

[loonylupin2]

The eyes of the Moon and the Star

[melstinybrain]

*sirius and james arguing*

james: *takes off his glasses*

sirius: EVEN IF HE- what are you doing?

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

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

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

collab with @ellecdc

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

cw: modern au, chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

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

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

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

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

And waits. 

And waits. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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

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

“Good,” Remus murmurs to himself. 

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

And Remus has found many flaws. 

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

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

“Sirius…” 

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

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

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

“Okay—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[my-castles-crumbling]

astronomy tower - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 215

"Stop staring at Sirius and get back to work!"

James's voice made Remus jump a mile, and for a second, he thought he'd finally been caught.

All four of them had snuck onto the Astronomy Tower for an unusually productive trip to complete their overdue Astronomy homework. Remus, however, was gazing at a star much closer to home.

He couldn't help it anymore. He'd tried, really. But the way Sirius's hair shone in the moonlight, the way his smile made Remus's stomach fill with butterflies? He found himself getting lost in thoughts he could never admit aloud.

So yes, he was staring as Sirius bent down so gracefully to look into the telescope, his hair falling around his shoulders like a waterfall. He admired the way his frame looked in his beat-up leather jacket and perhaps someday he would admit to himself that he stole glances at the other boy's arse. But he didn't think anyone noticed!

He almost denied it. But thank Merlin he didn't, because Sirius yelled out, straightening up and turning to James indignantly. "At least I can find one bloody star in the sky!"

"Doesn't count if it's you!" James retorted.

Oh. James was talking to Sirius.

Swallowing, Remus turned back to his own work. His secret was safe for now.

[uhhlifeig]

Shrieking Shack - Nov. 18 - word count: 367 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Remus sat hunched on the old, creaking bed in the Shrieking Shack, his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around him. 

The pre-moon ache had started to creep into his bones earlier that week, a slow, persistent throb that made him feel as though his own body was turning against him.

He didn’t hear the door open at first, but the soft creak of footsteps on the floorboards drew his attention.

“Sirius,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

The boy stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light spilling from the corridor. His hair was a wild mess of dark curls, his usual smirk replaced with a soft, worried frown.

“I figured you’d be here,” Sirius said quietly, closing the door behind him. He crossed the room in a few long strides, then dropped down onto the bed beside Remus. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the werewolf lied.

“Yeah, you always are,” the noiret replied. He nudged the other boy’s knee lightly with his own. “Except when you’re not. So, tell me the truth- how are you?”

Remus let out a shaky sigh and rested his chin on his knees, his gaze fixed on the moonlight patterns dancing across the wooden floor.

“It’s just...” he admitted after a moment. “Sometimes it feels like there’s nothing else to me but this- this monster.”

“You’re not a monster.”

“Sirius, you don’t-”

“No. You’re kind, brilliant, loyal, and the best person I’ve met. You’re so much more than this stupid curse. And if I have to spend every single full moon telling you that, I will.”

The dirty blonde's throat tightened, but before he could respond, Sirius tugged him sideways, wrapping his arms around him in a warm hug.

“C’mere,” the older boy murmured, pressing his chin lightly against the top of Remus’s head.

He stiffened, at first, the familiar urge to pull away bubbling up. Sirius didn’t let go, and slowly, cautiously, Remus relaxed into the embrace. 

He let his head rest against the boy’s shoulder, his hands clutching at the soft fabric of his jumper like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world.

“I’ve got you,” Sirius whispered. “I’ve always got you.”

[daddiesdrarryy]

Remus: Right hand blue

James: This Twister game is so fun!

Regulus: Not that fun. Are you sure this is right, Remus? Potter is practically on top of me

Remus: Of course it is!

Sirius, whispers: Is it?

Remus: I haven’t used the spinner in half an hour

[ohyou-pretty-things]

artist: j000000

[itsriotmotherfuckers]

Remus John Lupin is a dorky nerd in tweed and cardigans who is only strong enough to carry books around, and lets everyone walk all over him, and cries when people go on discriminatory tangents about werewolves/queer people, and makes Sirius help him study, and folds his underwear/socks, and drowns in jumpers that are too big because he’s so skinny that he has to choose between them being long enough or tight enough, and he’s always cold, and he has back joint/back pain, and has a snort-laugh, and a little overbite you can only see when he smiles, and his clothes have elbow/knee patches, and he never gets angry because he’s so scared of being a monster

[propussyslayer]

james "oh i guess i am a bisexual" potter

regulus "swallowed by the tension winding up in my own household, i feel i must fill my duties as the true heir to The Noble House of Black and provide them with an offspri- is that James Potter half naked after quidditch practice oh lord im abouta-" black

[worldofwolfstar]

Sirius: I just think my instincts about people are better than yours.

Remus: What? Why?

Sirius: Well, I picked you-

Sirius: You on the other hand, picked me

[lupinsversion]

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝

• summary: when james finds himself talking to the other marauders about reader.

• contains: lovesick james potter, fluff

• word count: 493

masterlist || requests

James lounged in the common room by the fireplace, a goofy smile on his face as he thought about the girl who had completely captured his heart. The other Marauders: Sirius, Peter, and Remus noticed his smitten expression and exchanged knowing glances.

Peter couldn't help but roll his eyes and chuckled. “Look at him, all lovesick and heart-eyed."

Sirius smirked, raising an eyebrow at James' dreamy expression. "Oh, someone's got it bad," he teased, his gray eyes sparkling with amusement. "I've never seen you like this, Prongs.” He added, the nickname carrying a hint of friendly mockery.

Remus chuckled lightly, leaning back against the chair he was sat on. "You've fallen, and fallen hard," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and affection.

James' cheeks flushed slightly as the Marauders called him out on his smitten state, but he couldn't deny the truth. He was completely smitten, and he couldn't stop the happy thoughts that filled his mind. But he tried to play it cool. "Oh, shut it, you lot.” He retorted with a sheepish smile, trying to regain a sliver of dignity.

Sirius chuckled, the smirk still playing on his lips. "Face it, Prongs, you're whipped.” He teased, enjoying having the upper hand in the playful banter.

Remus glanced back at James with a perceptive gaze, noting the speed at which James had fallen head over heels for this girl. "You know, Prongs, you fell for her like a ton of bricks," he pointed out, his tone laced with amusement. "I've never seen you this smitten this quickly before."

James leaned back against the couch, a silly smile still on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I know. That lil' shit tripped me, and now I can't seem to get her out of my head." He spoke in an overly affectionate tone, his words dripping with smitten adoration for the girl.

Sirius' smirk widened at James' confession, amused by his smitten state. "Oh, so she's a little heartbreaker, eh? Got you on your ass quicker than a bludger to the head."

James chuckled at Sirius' observation, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "You know what's even funnier? She actually tripped me. Our first meeting, and she literally sends me toppling on my ass."

Sirius burst out laughing, the image of James being tripped by this girl was too humorous to not find it hilarious. "Oh, that's brilliant! Tripped you, eh? How very...graceful of her.” Sirius teased with a smirk.

Remus chuckled lightly, enjoying the playful banter. "Seems like she left quite the impression, Prongs. First meeting and you already fell for her, quite literally.” He quipped, a smile playing on his lips.

James rolled his eyes playfully, trying to maintain a semblance of composure. "Oh, shut it, Moony. It wasn't my finest moment," he joked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "But you know what they say, all's fair in love and war. She got me fair and square."

© lupinsversion 2024