kitkatkl
kitkatkl
Kitkat
287 posts
Honestly just here to hype up these fanfic writers because they. deserve. it. | that mom friend | Hufflepuff
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kitkatkl · 4 months ago
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27+48=?
7+7=14+1=15
_5 carry the 1 so, 2+4+1=7
Therefore, 27+48 = 75
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kitkatkl · 5 months ago
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😂😂
Twelve hours - platonic!marauders, james potter
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summary: sometimes having observant friends is unfortunate, but now when they've been blind for so long... wc: 0.9k+
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When James, Remus and Sirius trudged up to your, Lily and Marlene’s dorm to remind you of your Hogsmeade plans in an hour, they had every intention of knocking on the door. However, when Sirius heard your screeching laughs through the door, he pushed the door open without second thought.
The view the three boys were met with immediately confused them. You were sat on the floor at the floor of your bed, still in your pyjamas, legs bent on the floor, but you were knelt forward as you laughed, clutching your sides. Lily was leaning against her bed, crying tears of laughter whilst Marlene had her gaze stuck on you, pointing a finger at your figure while she laughed.
“It’s not funny,” You cried, though your words contradicted your actions. You reached your hands up towards Marlene, begging “Help me up!” Marlene reached out to help you before she burst into another fit of giggles, leaving you sat hopelessly on the ground.
Remus, ever the protective friend, pushed past his two friends to offer you his hands. Your eyes went wide as you noticed his and the other boys’ presence, but you gratefully took his hands nonetheless.
You winced as you pushed yourself off the ground, a pained noise escaping your chest as you finally balanced yourself on your feet. “Thanks.” You muttered, smiling awkwardly at the three boys now stood in your dorm, before happily sitting down on your bed again. “And we’re back to zero.” Lily wheezed, wiping her tears away.
You chucked a pillow at the red head, who easily dodged it and a silence settled on the three of you as you took in the male presence in the dormitory. “May I ask what’s going on?” Asked Sirius, a confused look on his face, eyebrows deeply furrowed.
“No.”
The simple response was all it took for Marlene and Lily to resume their fits of laughter, but this time you just rolled your eyes at them. “Oh, please tell them!” Pleaded Marlene as she sat down on the bed facing you. “It’s embarrassing!” “It’s a flex.” Retorted Lily. You huffed.
“It’s nothing. My legs just didn’t seem ready to carry me out of bed this morning.” “Morning?” Remus scoffed, glancing at the clock. “It’s barely morning.”
“It’s because the guy she slept with had a massive dick.” “Marlene!” James let out a loud gasp from where he stood in the doorway, previously silent. Your eyes trailed over to him, feeling your face flush hotly. The eye contact between you was intense, but you broke it, shying away from his intimidating gaze.
“I wasn’t prepared! I’m fine.” You huffed stubbornly, proving your point as you stood up. You swallowed thickly, grabbing the outfit you’d chosen from your bed and stiffly walking over to the bathroom. You heard Marlene cackle, mumbling something about ‘look at her’, and sharply turned to face the group of friends. “I said I’m fine — doesn’t mean I’m not sore!” You yelled at her, before your eyes flickered back to the boy in the doorway.
Unfortunately for you, Remus caught the movement. So did Lily. The girl hummed attentively, her face becoming solemn. Fuck, your friends were too observant. “Who did you say the guy was, again?” Asked Remus. Freezing in place, you felt your ears grow warm. “She didn’t. That’s what me and Marlene were trying to find out.”
“Guys, I feel like I’m missing something.” Sirius muttered. Lily and Remus both sharply turned to look at James, who gulped animatedly, taking a step back. You saw Remus’s eyes squint in suspicious, and the boy in front of him immediately got defensive, opening and closing his mouth before deciding not to stay anything.
Sirius gasped loudly. “James is the guy with the massive dick!?” Marlene screamed at Sirius’s remark in horror, a hand slapping over her mouth as she turned to look at James, whose hands came down to hide his crotch area, which was definitely drawing the attention of the friend group. “Well, you know, we already knew James had a massive cock, but we didn’t he was your-” Sirius cut himself off, pursing his lips.
“So how long has this been going on?” Lily asked, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at you accusingly. “Last night?”
An uncomfortable silence settled amongst you, in which your four friends stood with their mouths agape. Suddenly, Marlene burst out laughing again. “Shit, you shouldn’t even hide it for twelve hours!” “Get out, Marlene!” You screeched, pointing to the door. “Everyone get out!” The five of them stood all at once, making their way out of the door and you sighed, calling out “Not you, James!”
The boy slowly walked back into the room, slamming the door shut behind him before he trotted over to you quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I went that-” “It’s fine. At least they bought the ‘last night’ thing, right?”
James chuckled, his nervous front falling apart as he regained comfort. He tugged at the large shirt of his you wore, nodding in agreement. “Imagine if they were told about the two months.” You shuddered theatrically, smiling at him. “Yeah, let’s save that for when we’re wasted.”
“I’m guessing you’re not coming to Hogsmeade? Mhm, I’ll stay with you then."
“Oh yeah, ‘cause that won’t be suspicious at all.”
“We’ll tell them we decided to talk things out.”
You nodded slowly, processing the information. “I’ll meet you in bed then?”
taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes, @juliet-017, @boromoony
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kitkatkl · 5 months ago
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This was such a cute way of doing this trope 💖💖💕
those were your rules
Sirius Black x fwb!reader who wants more [966 words]
CW: fem!reader, reader tries to call it off with Sirius when she realizes she wants more, some slight angst for a minute, inspired by this great fic that came across my feed based off of a scene from Gilmore Girls
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“Okay, one more time?” Sirius asks again, the heels of his palms pressing into his eyes that you’re sure have him seeing a kaleidoscope of colours.
You think you might’ve been tempted to laugh, were it not for the lump in your throat; were it not for the words he’s asking you to repeat again that took you nearly three weeks to build the courage up to say at all to begin with. 
“I…I need this to stop.” You manage, mouth dry as you stare at the heather grey t-shirt he’s wearing instead of his face. 
“This,” he starts, hands falling to his hips as he tries and fails to make eye contact with you, “being…”
“You and me.”
“Right,” he agrees slowly, “you and me being…”
You let out a breath and look to your left, chewing on your lip as you try to find a delicate way of saying “the sex, Sirius.” 
“But why?” He finally manages, letting his weight fall back into the back of the sofa in a half-seated, half-standing position. You really picked a horrid place to have this conversation; you asked to come over, and Sirius - none the wiser - was likely excited for a romp, but then you were taking your shoes off to be polite but not allowing him to take your jacket, slapping him with the “I can’t do this anymore” before you were even five whole steps into his flat. 
“It’s…I don’t know, Sirius. It’s not enough for me.”
“I’m not enough for you.” He parrots in monotone; not a question.
“No, Sirius, that’s not what I’m saying.” You moan. “But, just, this arrangement - it isn’t enough for me anymore. I want more.”
“You want more. More, what?”
“Sirius, come on.” You groan, finally looking at him in exhaustion and hoping he can hear the desperation in your tone. “Are you really going to make me say it out loud?”
“I just don’t understand what’s changed!” He pleads, standing again and holding his hands out helplessly. 
“I have!” You shout back, immediately feeling guilty because this wasn’t meant to be a fight, and this was probably exactly why he insisted on this kind of arrangement with you. 
“I have,” you try again, softer this time, “I just…I want more. I want a boyfriend. And I can’t have that if…”
“If you’re sleeping with me.” He surmises, earning him a nod as you go back to studying the soft grey of his shirt. “But…we agreed, yeah? We agreed that that’s all we’d be.”
“I know.” You admit. “I know, and I’m sorry, I just…” Your shoulders raise helplessly, causing him to sigh.
“Was it…something I did?” He asks carefully, joining you in looking to the left of the room instead of at each other. 
“No, Sirius. And I don’t hold anything against you.” You insist delicately. “I’m not asking you for anything you’re not able to give me, either. That’s why I’m-”
“-leaving.” He finishes for you. The word apparently sour in his mouth, the aftertaste leaving his lips puckered somewhere between disgust and hurt. 
“This was just temporary, yeah?” You try, nudging your socked toe against a scuff in the hardwood floor beneath you. “This was never meant to be forever; not exclusive, no commitment.”
He turns to look at you at that, face pained as if you hadn’t just repeated his own rules verbatim. 
“Those were your rules.” You remind him gently. 
“But you want more.” He offers, again, not a question. 
“I’m sorry, Sirius.” Is all you can think to say. 
You try not to shrink under his gaze, your own eyes flitting between his - that look suspiciously red rimmed - and his t-shirt; apparently the thin fabric covering his heart safer territory than his eyes as they search your face for, what, you aren’t sure. 
“Alright.” He says simply, apparently having come to some decision.
“Alright?” You ask carefully, watching him as he stands and shakes out his hands, rolling his shoulders as if stepping away from a fist fight. 
“Alright,” he repeats, “you want a boyfriend? I’ll be your boyfriend.”
“Wha- wait, Sirius-”
“What? That’s what you said, right? You want more?” He’s gaining on you as he asks, and this time you do shrink under his gaze; feeling about two feet tall as he makes it to you, his chest centimetres from your own. “I’ll give you more, then.” 
“You- no, I…that’s-”
“You want a boyfriend, I’ll be your boyfriend.” He says again, softer as he slips his fingers into the belt loops of your jeans; not touching you, exactly, but enough to make him feel like an anchor for your fluttering heart.
“I don’t want you to be something you don’t want to be. I don’t want to force you.”
“You’re not forcing me.” He says, grey eyes mapping out points of your face. “I said this wouldn’t be exclusive but…it sort of already was for me. Might as well just call it what it is, then.”
You shake your head, not in disagreement, but in disbelief. “You said you don’t do relationships.” 
His eyes narrow slightly as if wanting to wince, but they stay open in favour of watching the way you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“No, I don’t.” He admits, and the little flicker of hope in your chest is almost snuffed at his admission. “But I’ve never really wanted to do a relationship before. But I want you.” 
“You want me?”
He must notice the tentative, hopeful smile on your lips, because a matching one grows on his own before his eyes flicker up to yours. “I want you.”
“But…I want a boyfriend?”
His smile softens but doesn’t shrink as he lowers his forehead to yours. “Then I guess I have myself a girlfriend, don’t I?”
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kitkatkl · 5 months ago
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kitkatkl · 5 months ago
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Truly Iconic
Wait wait wait remember that post about how Team Starkid/the Lang brothers are going to be comparable to Shakespeare 500 years from now and it was mostly played for laughs like yeah lol you’ll need a paragraph of footnotes to explain the zefron poster but like
I don’t think that’s actually far off from how Starkid’s place in theatre history might play out and here’s why. Just hear me out
Why is Shakespeare so popular today when he definitely wasn’t the only playwright from that era? When he’s not even the only playwright from that era from England that we have surviving works from?
Two main reasons:
1) Shakespeare’s work is (relatively) universally relatable. The characters do things that are so fundamentally human. They make jokes at their friends’ expense. They complain about being awkward in front of their crush. They have daddy issues. The plot lines of the plays aren’t too complicated. The dick jokes land whether you’re watching in 1611 or 2024, and they probably still will in 2637. Shakespeare’s works are timeless because he didn’t try to outsmart his audience. He wrote about things everyone could relate to rather than trying too hard to peacock his intellect in front of the nobility. This is not true of every playwright.
2) Shakespeare was really popular right around the time England started colonizing everything in sight. Copies of his work got shipped all around the world, translated into dozens of languages, performed probably thousands of times. Setting aside the moral implications of this, the important thing to note is that Shakespeare was about the most easily accessible English playwright during a time of rapid, intense globalization.
Meanwhile, Starkid:
1) Invests hard in meaningful, relatable character arcs instead of spectacle and expensive sets or costumes. Also, lowbrow, immature humor and dick jokes that make A Very Potter Sequel funny and enjoyable regardless of if you’ve ever seen any other Harry Potter media in your life.
2) Posts professional recordings of their musicals to YouTube FOR FREE, making their shows about the easiest, best quality musical theatre you can get pretty much anywhere in the world, regardless of if your area has an active theatre scene. Proshots from other companies are rare and usually not free. Bootlegs are all well and good, but even if the video quality is alright (and that’s a big if) the audio is usually garbage. Starkid has been posting the best quality free recordings they can afford since 2009, shortly after the birth of social media, another time of rapid, intense globalization.
In short, I’m not saying that theatre historians in 500 years won’t remember any our current Broadway faves, but I am saying that in my opinion, Team Starkid is probably going to be more accessible for the general public. If you’re a 26th century English teacher trying to teach your class about narrative structure in 21st century theatre, what are you going to show your students? A bootleg of Hadestown with blurry video and garbage audio? Or the professional recording of Twisted, parts of which they will probably even enjoy, because even long after no one remembers Disney’s Aladdin anymore, your class of 26th century 16-year-olds are still going to laugh at “No One Remembers Achmed.”
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kitkatkl · 5 months ago
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I am a SUCKER for long, slow burn, one shots!
something gained {george weasley x reader}
  words: 13.8k
  summary: you’re a beater on the slytherin quidditch team, so naturally, george weasley is your worst enemy.
   genre: fluff
   notes: masterlist - ask me about commissions! - enjoy my good pals. 
—-
  the crowds are loud this morning.
   much too loud for a nine am rise, in your opinion, though you appreciate their enthusiasm. the bellows echo through the changing rooms, rattling the walls, poking at your nerves like a teenager prodding a zit.
    you sit on the floor, your back against the wall. around you, your team buzzes, making battle plans to defeat gryffindor, but you can barely hear them over the paired chorus of the chants outside and your own heartbeat. sweat rushes to your palms, and you gingerly wipe them on your quidditch gear.
    “we’ve got this one in the bag,” marcus flint says for what must be the seventeenth time since you first laid eyes on him this morning. “they’re not getting away this time. if we have to get violent, we will.”
   “and start the season off with a disqualification?” you pipe up. “wonderful game plan. very well thought out.”
    “it’s you who needs to listen up the most, l/n. you’re a beater - i want to see you causing damage.”
   you roll your eyes. “i cause damage every bloody game, flint. you don’t have to tell me how to do my job.”
    flint’s lips curl into a frown, his dark eyes glaring at you. you refuse to meet them, instead picking up your beaters bat from the side and getting to your feet.
    “the match starts in two minutes,” you point out. “are we gonna keep talking shit or are we gonna get out there and beat gryffindor?”
    much to flint’s dismay, it’s your tiny little speech that seems to get the slytherins riled up. they cheer, stampeding from the changing rooms, each giving you a warm clap on the shoulder on their way past. flint stays behind, glaring daggers into your head.
   you nod at the open door. “after you, captain.”
Keep reading
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kitkatkl · 5 months ago
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Loving this story so farre
Unravel Me
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Pairing: Remus Lupin x F! Reader
Genre: Soulmate AU (Reincarnation) Series, Angst, Hurt/ Comfort, Fluff, Slow burn
Summary: Remus Lupin never believed he had a soulmate—until one accidental touch shatters his carefully built walls. The wolf inside him has always known, but Remus refuses to accept that fate could be so cruel as to tie her to him. Haunted by longing and fear, he tries to run, but she is relentless—warmth slipping through the cracks, undoing him piece by piece. As desire wars with self-doubt, Remus must decide: fight fate or surrender to the one thing he’s always denied himself.
a/n: Hey! I've been sick recently and work was hectic, but here is the next chapter! hope you enjoy!
Prev. // Next
Word Count: 3101
Chapter Six: The Wolf
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Frustration. 
Hunger. 
Rage. 
The days leading up to the full moon were always tough. In his younger years, and still on his worst days, Remus had a tendency to lash out. His friends tended to take the brunt of it. Time and time again they’d subject themselves to the worst of Remus’ moods with no more than a shake of their heads. James would shove an extra chocolate bar into his hands with a pointed look, Sirius would needle him just enough to keep him from sinking too deep into his own head, and Peter would distract him with whatever gossip he’d picked up.  They tried. They continued to try even when Remus would bite back. 
He’d gotten better as the years went on, but it never went away—not really. It laid in wait just below the surface. Simmering and festering. He could control it now. For the most part. He had enough practice with it, disguising it under a well-worn mask. A polite smile, the strain only noticeable to his friends. Remus tried to distance himself from her, if only for a while. He didn’t want her to witness him like that. She didn’t need to see him when he was more beast than man, ruled by baser instincts.
 It didn’t work. 
He’d opened the floodgates and there was no quilling the monster now that it knew what it felt like to have her near. Now that it knew how sweet her voice could be or hold soft her touch was when she brushed against him ‘accidentally’. 
He hadn’t run from her the way he had before. Instead he offered her a half-truth. When he said he wasn’t feeling well it wasn’t exactly a lie. She didn’t need to know that the reason he was feeling poorly was because his bones ached with the all too familiar feeling of preparing to snap and contort in hellish ways or that his headache stemmed from the wolf taking a more centerstage role rather than its usual heckling background act. 
The distance lasted for a day. In all actuality it was closer to a few hours. He’d been a lot more terse than he had been in years. It was clear to his best mates, who gave him a wide berth as they made their way to the Great Hall. It was Peter’s idea, which was surprising. Out of all his friends he was the one who interacted with her the least, Lily having taken the second place spot after Remus himself. So, there they were, sitting side-by-side. Remus was acutely aware of the way their thighs touched every so often. While it shot a thrill up his spine it also grounded him in a way he wasn’t used to. 
He was still in a god awful mood, but he was a lot more… tolerable. 
Her voice was soft as she spoke to him, as if she could sense his growing agitation. It wasn’t aimed at her—gods no—but at the loud second years sitting further down the table. They were grating, talking too loudly, voices overlapping each other; they were just too much. Any other day it wouldn’t have been an issue. He likely wouldn’t have noticed, in all honesty, but the wolf made it very difficult to ignore. 
“Remus?” her voice called to him, soft and soothing like she was coaxing a skittish animal into paying attention. The wolf loved it, standing in metaphorical attention at the sound of her voice—honeyed and sweet without even trying. Though, Remus was willing to bet that only he thought so. 
Remus did his best to keep the vexation out of his tone as he spoke to her. The last thing he wanted was for her to think it was her doing, “Sorry, dove, I didn’t catch that.”
In his peripheral vision he could see James look at Sirius in bewilderment and mouth something like ‘when’d that start’. Sirius looks just as perplexed, if not chuffed at the sudden change in their friend. Remus paid them no mind, as was becoming par for the course whenever she was around. 
“I asked if you still wanted to meet in the library later,” she repeated patiently. She pushed the remaining food on her plate around with her fork, a clear indication that she was done but didn’t want to leave just yet. He found it—like everything else about her—endearing. 
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Yeah, of course.” 
“You’re sure?” 
“Do you… not want me to?” He feigns hurt. 
She levels him with a look that Remus knows all too well by now, “I didn’t say I didn’t want you to. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t busy.” 
Remus let out a breath, shaking his head. “Never too busy for you, dove.” He didn’t think much of the words as they left his mouth, but judging by the way James nearly choked on his pumpkin juice and Sirius was now full-on grinning like Christmas had come early, maybe he should have.
If she noticed their antics she didn’t mention it. Instead giving Remus the courtesy of pretending his friends weren’t as embarrassing as they actually were. Her voice drops so that only he can hear her, “If you’re not feeling well we could always reschedule.”
His own tone mirrored hers, low and like they were sharing a secret meant only for each other, “I’m fine. Besides, the library isn’t exactly the most taxing place to be, is it?” 
Remus resisted the urge to smooth out the furrow in her brow as she looked at him. He wasn’t being completely truthful and he knew that she knew that. 
She studied him for a moment longer, likely deciding whether to call him out or not. It seemed he was in the clear, at least for the time being. She packed her things and headed to her first class of the day. 
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The candlelight casted a soft glow that helped ease the headache Remus had been nursing since lunch. The sound of pages turning and the ambient noise of other students quietly murmuring to each other filled the silence between them. Not that it was really needed, but it was nice. 
“You’re so annoying,” she huffs at him like he’s just committed a personal slight against her. 
“Am I,” he asks, unbothered. He glances at her from his spot across the table, where he had been sitting quietly for the past couple of minutes, “What’d I do this time.” 
He does his best to suppress a smirk at the petulant way she looks at him, all that’s missing is a pout and the look would be complete. “You were right,” she grumbles. He could tell that the exasperation in her tone was only half-genuine. 
“You’ll have to be more specific, love,” the word falls from his mouth with an ease that has her blink in surprise. It’s momentary and fleeting, but he noticed it in the same way he’s committed all of her quirks to memory in the past two weeks since their outing. It wasn’t the first time he’s called her that, or some variation of it, but it was the first time he’d done it intentionally—with a confidence that came from knowing the way she would react to it. 
“Don’t get smarmy with me, Lupin,” the glare sent his way is nullified by the way she ducks her head right after. 
Remus realized that he enjoyed this version of her far more than the one he had glorified for so long. She was still kind, charming, and unbelievably attractive, but she wasn’t perfect. Where most might’ve been disappointed that what they’d envisioned had turned out to be incorrect, Remus was beside himself with admiration. He saw sides of her he’d never been privy to prior. His favorite, or rather one of his favorites, was her temper. It wasn’t that her temper caused her to be particularly mean, just that it’d make her huff and puff in a way that reminded him of a displeased mooncalf. Not that he’d ever say that to her—he’d rather not be on the receiving end of her ire. 
“Already with the name calling. It’s not even dinner yet,” Remus sets his book down to give her his undivided attention. His hands itched to reach across the table and take one of her hands into his, but he refrained. The terms of endearments were already blurring the lines of their ‘friendship’, any touching and he’d lose any semblance of self control he had. 
“I’m not name calling,” she defended. 
“You are,” he was quick to counter. “You still haven’t told me what I was right about. I’d like to know what I’m gloating about before I do it.” 
“You already know what I’m referring to, Remus,” she says his name in what he assumed was meant to be a chiding way, but it sends a thrill up his spine nonetheless. 
“I don’t know why you continue to try to prove me wrong,” he says after a beat. “One of us has had to spend hours going over the material.” 
She’d claimed with near certainty that a potion recipe called for a specific ingredient; Remus, very gently might he add, told her that she was completely wrong. Not in an unkind way, not entirely. More teasing, if anything. To be fair, the potion in question was one they had to study and perfect in their first year. But, in all fairness Remus himself likely would have forgotten the specifics of it if he wasn’t tutoring a handful of first years. 
“Yeah yeah,” she murmurs with a flippancy that Remus knows is for show. 
She returns her attention back to her studies and Remus takes it as an opportunity to gaze at her. The longing in his eyes is palpable. She was… the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, he was sure of that. Not just in physicality but in every way a person could be. He was biased, sure, but he would argue that it was an objective fact. 
She had this way about her—an ease, a quiet confidence that made everything she did seem effortless. Even now, hunched over her parchment, hair falling over one shoulder as she chewed absently on the tip of her quill, she was captivating.
Remus let himself watch, just for a moment. Let himself revel in the fact that she was here, that she chose to sit with him, argue with him over potion ingredients, humor him when he was being insufferable. That she spoke his name in that way that made his pulse quicken and sent warmth curling through his chest.
He could never tell her any of it, of course.
Could never put into words how deeply he felt, how utterly wrecked he was by the simple fact of her existence. Because there were things he wanted that he couldn’t have, things he knew better than to reach for.
But in moments like this—when the moon was creeping closer and the weight of it pressed heavy against his skin—she made him feel human. Made him feel like something more than the thing clawing at the edges of his control.
He let out a quiet breath, dragging a hand down his face as if that would somehow help rein himself in.
“Staring is rude, you know,” she says without sparing a glance up at him and Remus feels his heart stutter. 
“I was not staring,” he defends poorly. He wills the heat creeping up his neck to stop. 
She hums, “Sure you weren’t.” 
He huffs a soft laugh and forces himself to turn his eyes back to the book in his hands. 
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Remus decided to skip dinner that night. He knew himself well enough to know that even with her there the cacophony of voices would have him on edge. So, he would stay in the solace that was his dorm. The fact that Sirius, James, and Peter would be out was an added plus. He loved his friends, but sometimes they were a bit… much. 
The quiet was a welcome relief. No clattering silverware, no overlapping voices grating against his already frayed nerves. Just the low hum of the castle settling for the night and the occasional creak of the four-poster bed as he shifted.
He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to shake the tension from them. The full moon wasn’t quite close enough to make his bones ache, but the restlessness was there, coiling under his skin.
The dorm was empty, just as he’d hoped. Sirius, James, and Peter would be down at dinner, likely causing some kind of scene that would earn them glares from McGonagall and cheers from the younger years. Normally, he’d roll his eyes and let himself be dragged into whatever chaos they concocted, but tonight, he couldn’t stomach the noise, the energy, the sheer presence of other people.
Except… there was one person he wouldn’t have minded.
The thought crept in before he could push it away.
If she were here, she’d probably sit at the foot of his bed, legs crossed, rambling about some bit of homework she’d been obsessing over or a book she thought he’d like. She had this way of filling the silence without overwhelming it, making it feel less like suffocating loneliness and more like something warm. Comforting.
But that was a dangerous train of thought.
He sighed, dragging a hand over his face before reaching for the book he’d left on his nightstand. He needed to distract himself. Because thinking about her—about how much he wanted her here—wasn’t going to help anything.
He’d managed to get through a chapter when there was a knock at the door. Odd. The boys wouldn’t knock, even though sometimes they really should, and Lily would be at dinner with them. For a brief, fleeting moment his mind jumped to her but… no she wouldn’t come by. Not that he didn’t want her to, just that it seemed a touch intimate to have her here. Ignoring the ache in his bones, he went to answer the door. 
​​When he pulled the door open, he froze.
It was her.
She stood just outside looking up at him with something soft in her eyes—concern, maybe, or curiosity. He wasn’t sure. He was too caught up in the fact that she was here, standing at his door, looking like she belonged in this quiet, dimly lit space with him.
“Hi,” she said, offering a small, hesitant smile.
Remus blinked, forcing himself to push past the shock. “Hi.” His voice was rougher than he meant it to be, throat dry from disuse. He cleared it quickly, shifting so he was half-blocking the doorway. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at dinner?”
She shrugged, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “I noticed you weren’t there.”
He swallowed. Of course, she noticed.
“It’s nothing,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, feigning nonchalance. “Just wasn’t feeling up for it.”
She nodded, “Figured. Thought you should at least have something.” 
Remus looked at the packaged food like he’d never seen anything like it before. It was silly the way his heart fluttered. Remus stared at the wrapped parcel in his hands like it was something sacred, something more than just a bit of dinner smuggled from the Great Hall. And maybe, in a way, it was.
He swallowed past the lump in his throat, willing himself to act like this wasn’t affecting him as much as it was. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, voice quieter than before.
She shrugged, casual in a way that made it clear she didn’t see this as a big deal. “I know. But I wanted to.”
And that—that was what undid him.
Because she always did this. Slipped past his walls with such ease, knocked down his carefully built barriers without even trying. She made him feel seen, made him feel wanted in a way he wasn’t sure he could handle. All of it done like it was second nature to her, and maybe it was. Remnants of their past selves where being together was like breathing, but right now in this body that housed a monster that could wreck havoc. 
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before glancing at her. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, shaking his head, but there was no real bite to it, there never was when he spoke to her. 
She only smiled, “What a rude thing to say to someone who did something nice for you.” 
“Thank you,” he laughs. There’s a beat of silence before Remus, in all his awkward glory, asks, “Did you… do you want to come in?” 
To his surprise—and slight disappointment—she shakes her head, “No, that’s alright. I should head back down anyway.” 
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says with a nod of his head. He does his best to ignore the wolf’s petulant noise of displeasure. 
“Hope you feel better soon,” she says with a sincerity that makes his heart ache. She waves before she takes her leave. He knows that she likely only left because he had chosen to sequester himself in his dorm, but part of him wished she had said. 
The door’s shut with a soft click. Looking at the contents of the parcel Remus is come over with several emotions—gratitude, affection, and wistfulness. The contents were all things he enjoyed. Remus didn’t really have a large appetite, much to his mother’s and James’ chagrin.  He picked at his plates more often than not, eating habits resembling a bird pecking at its food than a man’s. 
Every time his mother had coaxed him to eat more, to hopefully fill out his thin frame he had rolled his eyes. Each time James did the same, though with slightly more success surprisingly, he had done so begrudgingly. But now, looking at the plate she had prepared he couldn’t bring himself to even feign annoyance. The image of her sitting there fixing a plate for him with things he liked has a warmth settle in his chest. The action itself was sweet, perhaps the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him, but it wasn’t just that. It was clear and tangible evidence that she saw him—that she paid attention to him just as much as he did to her. 
Being seen by and being known by her was just like he thought it would be. It was frightening and exposing and wonderful all the same. 
He was so fucked. 
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Unravel Me Masterlist
Taglist:
@a1ienmush, @boromoony, @kitkatkl, @moonyswifee, @mxg111, @movnchild, @karzich9, @ariesandwolves
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kitkatkl · 6 months ago
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I love longer one shots like this. So cute!
Shared Sweaters and Failed First Impressions
Fandom: Harry Potter (Marauders Era)
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader
Warnings: Alcohol, snogging, Sirius and Andromeda being good friends and good cousins which may, as a result, make you sad that they never actually got to be that since she didn’t go to Hogwarts when he did but HEY its fanfic and I get to say that they did!
Request: please write a Remus x reader in which the reader is from a really old important pureblood family but on the down low isn’t anything like them but comes across really cold (and like a bit of a mean girl) her and Remus get paired for a project & he’s all sweet & charming & she falls for him but gets mad & distant cause stupid Remus & his stupid perfect face & stupid wit & stupid beautiful eyes ruining her plan to fly under the radar until she can get away from her family but happy fluffy ending
A/N: WOWIE shes a long one, hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 7.3k
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“Lupin and Y/L/N, Black and Potter, Evans and Pettigrew…”
The professor continued on but Remus had tuned it out as he searched the classroom for you, trying not to be annoyed that his friends had gotten paired up with each other. James glared at Peter wishing they could trade partners but he should be thankful he at least got paired with Sirius, though they would get nothing done.
You were sat with your friends, your hands folded neatly in front of you, eyes not leaving the front of the room still paying attention as the professor spoke. You had written down who your partner was on the corner of your notes, not bothered by it too much. Your friend to your right leaned in and whispered in your ear, some snide joke about Remus being your partner. The joke wasn’t funny and neither was the way that they all proceeded to turn and look back at him with viscous grins on their faces.
Remus wasn’t nervous to be paired with you, well he wasn’t until that happened. He gulped realizing you were slightly more intimidating than he had thought, you were in Slytherin, you were a perfect and you were a pureblood, not to mention the top of the class, you would clearly have expectations he couldn’t meet.
After class ended you walked to his table where he sat staring at you blankly.
“Hi, Remus?”
Keep reading
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kitkatkl · 6 months ago
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This was so good 😍😍
Never ending song - Sirius Black
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summary: rockstar!reader - when your parents divorce, you decide to move to london to finish your last year of school, and take your music career there with you. what happens when you meet another pureblood rebel named sirius black. wc: 7.3k+ a/n: funnily enough this whole concept was inspired by The Ballad of the Witches Road from agatha all along being a protection spell.
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WITCHES WEEKLY
In a twisting turn of events, rockstar y/n l/n ditches her parents amongst their divorce to move to London with her aunt.
A new light has been shed on rockstar y/n l/n since the beginning of her parents’ divorce. The singer songwriter, famously known for her most recent album “Heart of Chaos” was seen in court this week, finally showing her vulnerable side to the public, contrary to the heartthrob persona she usually puts on.
Her parents, two world renowned aurors have reportedly called it quits after more than twenty years together, and this week in another court hearing, a shocking event took place. When young adult y/n was asked by the court which of her guardians she would like to live with, the two parents broke out into an argument, causing the rockstar to have an astounding outburst. “Shut up! Shut up! I don’t want to live with either of you — I mean just look at you. One of you has a drinking problem so bad you shouldn’t be allowed to work and the other works so much and is so controlling and insensitive that living alone would be better than living with you!” The unfolding truth about her father’s drinking problem has opened a new case which could potentially cost him his license as an auror.
L/n’s aunt, her godmother, lives in a remote area in London, and owns a very successful boutique in Diagon Alley, one of the most popular magical villages in the UK. The guardian was brought into court this Friday, and the judge confirmed that y/n would be living with her aunt until she becomes a legal adult, in which case the choice of her living situation will be up to her.
This means that for her last year of school, the popular singer-songwriter will be quitting her studies at the Ilvermorny Institute of Magic to begin a new journey after the Christmas holidays at the hight ranked school of magic in the world: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The real question is: what will this mean for her musical career? Will she change record labels, or go independent?
Sirius’s jaw went slack, the tea he had previously sipped dribbling out of his open mouth and onto the newspaper in front of him. He frantically wiped away at the liquid, muttering a “No way” under his breath. “Padfoot that was absolutely disgusting” Remus commented, throwing a napkin at Sirius’s face. James laughed, rearranging the glasses balancing on his nose, but Sirius quickly interrupted him. “No, no, look at this!” He exclaimed, shoving the paper into James’s unprepared hands. Lily and Remus, sat on either side of the quidditch player, leaned closer to James, reading the paper over each shoulder.
“Oh hey, isn’t she the girl whose music you’re obsessed with?” Lily pointed out, finger resting on the moving image of you in court, shaking your head disappointedly at your parents. Sirius nodded frantically, snatching the paper back from his friends. “The popular singer-songwriter will be quitting her studies at the Ilvermorny Institute of Magic to begin a new journey after the Christmas holidays at the highest ranked school of magic in the world: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Sirius read out, a look of excitement on his face. “This is great!”
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗
“This is terrible.” You muttered two weeks later, arranging the tie adorning your neck. “I feel like I should have thought things out a little more before deciding to move halfway through my last year of school, right?” Your aunt laughed, shaking her head from where she sat on your bed across from you. “Hogwarts is great, and I’m sure you’ll be a lot happier here than you were before.” You got off your bed, kneeling down to finally close your suitcase. “I hope so. I just wish they have something about spells in song. It’s my favourite thing to learn about.” Your aunt hummed, helping you up from the floor and rearranging the tie on your chest. “Well, the student can always become the teacher.” She mumbled with a smile. “Now don’t forget your jumper, you’re on the brink of missing your train.” You jumped up, grabbing said jumper alongside your suitcase and guitar case, ready to apparate to the station.
The station, bustling with magical activity, screamed of students excited to return to Hogwarts, with magical firecrackers flying across the platform and chocolate frogs escaping their packaging. Parents cuddled up nostalgically, remembering the first time they’d dropped their children off here.
Platform 9 ¾.
You sighed, turning towards your godmother for the last time before you’d leave her until the summer. Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug. Shutting your eyes tightly to savour the quick moment with her, you were interrupted by a bright flashing light in your direction. All too familiar to the feeling, your eyes snapped open, exposing the reporter and her cameraman in front of you. You glared at the pair of them, letting go of your aunt’s hug to flash her one last smile and a loving “Bye bye” before rushing onto the train, where you know the journalist wouldn’t dare follow you.
"Rockstar y/n l/n shares tearful goodbyes with her godmother before hopping on the Hogwarts Express to mark the beginning of her witchcraft journey in the UK. Will she receive the same praise in the land of the Brits as in the United States, or will her career fall short? It’s difficult to tell if the new audience will boost her sales due to its new exposure to her music, or if the teenagers of the UK will find l/n unrelatable. Only time will tell…"
The whistle of the train had you jolting awake in your seat, looking around the empty compartment to make sense of your surroundings. Sighing, you blinked the fatigue away, observing the figures crowding the hallway of the train. You followed the pack’s movements, gathering your suitcase just in time for the train to come to a halt, wheels screeching on the tracks as it settled on the platform, the door to the compartment slamming open. “Newbie, I’m guessing?” You spun on your heels, eyeing the boy in front of you wearing green robes. “What gave it away?” He chuckled, nodding towards your suitcase. “Leave your stuff on the train.” You eyed him wearily, gaze wandering down the hallway to see if he was trying to fool you. Alas, none of the other students carried their luggage with them. Cautiously, you lifted your suitcase onto the seats next to you, deciding to trust the stranger.
The boy stuck his hand out in front of him, a strand of blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. “Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy.” You shook his hand with a thankful smile, introducing yourself to the pureblood. It didn’t take long for you to notice the newspaper Malfoy carried under his armpit, making the carriage ride up to the castle uncomfortable, realisation of his previous knowledge of you dawning on you. At the glimpse of your smiling face in the paper, you wondered how they represented you today.
Were you the snobby pureblooded princess who threw away everything her parents did for her, or the poor, vulnerable teenager whose parents abandoned in the midst of their hatred for the other?
The castle was impressive, more so than Ilvermorny had been, you noted as you stepped foot in the entrance hall. You weren’t surprised that Malfoy immediately left your side, catching a snippet of the remark he made to his friend who met him in the hall, beginning with “Mate, you’ll never guess who…” Instead, you allowed yourself to be whisked away by a tall, intimidating woman who suddenly appeared in front of you, summoning you with an ominous call of your name. You followed the nameless woman down the halls of Hogwarts until you stopped in front of two open double doors, tall enough to reach the high ceilings of the castle. The Great Hall was full of students, some of which were still taking their seats at their designated tables. You felt as though every single pair of eyes in the hall turned to look at you as you stood in the entryway. The view was somewhat more intimidating than your largest selling concert, despite the decrease in number of people.
Gulping, you let your gaze wander to the man sat at the centre of the teacher’s table, returning his steady stare. Albus Dumbledore. You’d read books about him; his problematic backstory and the people’s tendencies to forgive and forget. Here he stood now, in charge of the next generation of wizards. You watched as he stood up, booming voice echoing in the hall as he gathered the students’ attention.
From the Gryffindor table, Sirius elbowed James, innocently sat next to him, desperately waiting for dinner after a rigorous snow fight with the other marauders. James hissed, turning towards Sirius, who redirected his gaze towards the doors of the Great Hall, where you stood.
“Mate she looks scary.” James muttered, eyes glued to your fixated glare, your overconfident posture, your perfectly manicured nails. “Yeah.” Sirius sighed in amazement.
Ironically enough, your composure communicated the exact opposite of what you were feeling. You had to consciously keep the muscles in your legs flexed otherwise you were sure they’d be seen shaking from the other end of the hall. You kept your hands flat against the sides of your thighs to ensure you didn’t nervously fiddle with anything, only moving your hand to flick your hair over your shoulder because it was itching the side of your neck uncomfortably. “Oh she thinks she’s so much better than us.” Sirius heard a girl mumble further down the table, watching as your beautiful hair was swept behind your shoulder.
“Students of Hogwarts!” Dumbledore began, silencing everyone in the hall. “Welcome back! I hope you’ve had a wonderful winter holiday. As I’m sure many of you have heard, we are starting the new year with a new student to join our community of witches and wizards. To welcome her, she needs to go through the rite of passage that every student here at Hogwarts has gone through. Miss L/N, would you please step up to be sorted into your Hogwarts house?”
“You’re joking.”
The hall erupted in laughter at your comment, which had come out much louder than you’d intended, and Sirius heard the girl who’d previously made a comment on you now say “Never mind, she’s so right about that.” Your head snapped to the tall Professor next to you, eyes desperately looking for her to tell you that Dumbledore was, in fact, just joking. However, she only smiled sympathetically at you, putting a hand on your shoulder to softly nudge you down the hall. In an attempt to ignore the eyes following each step you took, you observed the different tables around you. Blue, red, green and yellow. God, you didn’t care where you were put as long as it wasn’t the yellow one. That colour didn’t go with any of your clothes.
Your heels echoed on the stairs, and you almost rolled your eyes at the sight of the stool placed in the centre of the platform. It was too cliché. You sat down, folding one leg over the other before the same old Professor approached you, this time carrying an old, filthy hat. You returned your gaze to the rest of the hall, watching each pair of eyes scan your body before your vision was stolen, and you welcomed the darkness. The sorting hat was heavy on your head, and a few sizes too big, you realised, feeling the tickle of the hat’s rim against your nose.
“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, I know just where you should go.” What the fuck? “Oh give me a break, I’m just trying to make this a little fun.” Fun? The hat’s raspy voice echoed in your mind, and you almost fell into a trance as it scanned through all your memories. Like a movie, a certain memory displayed itself in your brain, your very own voice echoing in your head. “Shut up! Shut up! I don’t want to live with either of you!” “Mhm, confrontational, rebellious.” The hat murmured in your mind before ultimately yelling out:
“GRYFFINDOR!”
Sirius was the first one on his feet, cheering you on as you made your way down the steps and towards the table. He tried hiding his disappointment when you were whisked away by a group of girls in his year group towards the front of the table, greeting you with welcoming smiles. Halfway through dinner, Lily had to scold him for how often he glanced your way.
On the way back to the common room, Sirius sped up, trying to catch up with you while dragging James and Remus with him by the wrists. The crowded hallways were the cause of Sirius's lack of success, and he huffed loudly when he couldn’t manage to slip past someone, the gap between you and him increasing as people pushed past him. When he finally made his way through the Fat Lady’s portrait, he grinned widely, eyes scanning the cozy common room, only for the smile to fall from his face when he couldn’t spot you in any of the seventh year students’ usual spots.
He was too late; you’d already been whisked away to your dorm.
It was only a week later that he’d managed to finally speak to you, despite sharing most classes with you. Mary and Marlene had clearly become close to you, and you’d even gotten to meet Lily, but Sirius? Well, you had no idea who he was.
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗
Sirius, Remus and James were late to class. They had been doing so well with being on time and avoiding useless detentions, a resolution they had made together for the new year. They rounded the corner of the hallway, panting loudly as they ran, trying to catch the stairs before they shifted again, which would inevitably make them even later.
You sat on the stairs with a bored expression, leaning your chin on your hand, your bag on the floor next to you. You had gotten here a few minutes ago, and just like the three marauders, had missed the stairs. Loud groans pulled you out of your train of thoughts, looking up to see where the voice had come from to find three boys your age — the marauders. They were all panting: Remus had his hands on his hips, head thrown back to catch his breath, and James had crouched down, leaning his head on the stair’s railing. “You alright?” The mysterious boy caught your attention. He stood nearly directly behind you and had long curly hair and a sweet smile, though his eyebrows were pulled together in concern at the sight of you sat alone on the stairs. Just like his other two friends, his chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath, cheeks slightly rosy. You nodded softly “Yeah, gave up trying to find my way to class ten minutes ago.” Sirius chuckled, moving to sit down next to you. You could hear his heavy breathing, but he still asked “What class do you have next?”
Sirius knew what class you had next.
You had transfigurations, same as him. But you hadn’t noticed that you shared the class with the boy, unlike him, who had internally cheered when you first walked into the transfigurations classroom. “Transfigurations. Marlene gave me a tour of this whole place like a week ago but I still can’t get my head wrapped around it.”
“You let Marlene give you a tour?” Remus’s voice suddenly sprung up, causing you to look at Sirius in confusion. He felt his heart surge as he realised you were looking at him to clarify. You had instantly chosen to trust him. “Was I not supposed to?” Sirius shrugged with a smile, “She’s just not the most… knowledgeable person of the castle. She still gets lost getting from the common room to the Great Hall sometimes.” Your laugh surprised him, and you reached a hand out to him, saying “I’m y/n, by the way.” Sirius’s grin widened impossibly as he shook your hand, introducing himself and the marauders behind him.
“Well, we’ll walk you to class. We’ve got McGonagall too.” You shook your head at Sirius’s offer, pushing yourself off the ground to stand up. “No way I’m going class 15 minutes late. I’m not waiting to be humiliated in front of a full class of people who probably already know who I am.”
“Fair enough.” Sirius stated, mimicking your movements. You shot him a look from the corner of your eye. “I take it you know who I am then?” Sirius’s cheeks darkened, but he didn’t let the exposure humiliate him. You’d think he was pathetic. He puffed his chest out confidently. “You could say I’m an avid enjoyer of your music. But that doesn’t make you any different to the next guy.” With the smile that blossomed on your face, someone would have thought that Sirius gave you the most flattering compliment. “Okay, good to know, Mr. Sirius.”
“Black.” He added, “Sirius Black.” Your eyes widened slightly at the name. Pureblood, you noted. One of the sacred 28. You both looked at each other with acknowledgment. He knew who you were, and you knew who he was. You took the silent moment to take in his features: striking silver jewellery on his fingers and around his neck, you spotted tattoos creeping up the collar of his uniform. A rebel. As his eyes bore into yours, you instantly knew there was a mutual understanding between you. And without another word, you were turning the corner to the next hallway and disappearing from Sirius’s sight until the evening came.
You lingered at the bottom of the stairwell to the girls’ dormitories, debating on making an approach or not. You liked Sirius. He obviously related to the parental pressure, and didn’t care too much about you no matter how much he liked your music. And he had style. Realistically, it was also about time to make friends other than your dorm-mates and their one friend. You imagined that no matter what happened, it wouldn’t be worse than your interaction with Malfoy. “Sorry.” You muttered, moving away from the staircase to let some girls make their way up to their dorms.
Feeling the girls look back at you, you mustered the courage you had to stroll across the common room towards where Sirius sat with his intimidating group of friends. The group turned their attention to you as you approached them, and you ignored the nerves building up in your gut, instead saying “Hey”, though it was mainly pointed towards Sirius. The boy was already making space for you to sit down next to him before you had the chance to ask. You were grateful when the others around you carried on with their conversations, turning towards Sirius. “Hey Sirius, do you know if there’s an extracurricular or something about spells in song?” The boy in front of you furrowed his eyebrows as though he had never heard of the concept before, and you knew that was a bad sign.
“You know, like when protection or love spells are, like, weaved into music?” Sirius straightened up in front of you, whisper yelling “What? Wait, do you do that with your songs?” You felt your face heat up and leaned back into the cushiony couch. “Kind of. I’m trying — learning.”
Unfortunately, Sirius had let you know that he hadn’t heard of such thing in the castle. In fact, he didn’t think that spells in song was a concept known between wizard and witches in the UK. That would be something you’d have to change. However, he was kind enough to lead you to the library, where he insisted on staying with you to find all your books on the subject so that you’d have someone to guide you back to the common room. It was so that you wouldn’t get lost again, obviously.
The library didn’t seem to have much on the topic, despite its grand size. You sighed, putting the books you’d found on the table in front of you. Your aunt seemed to stand correct, the student was becoming the teacher. Sirius sat patiently at the table, watching you ponder silently for a moment. You opened the first book, scanning its table of contents, before shutting it closed again. “This isn’t going to work.” You mumbled, putting both hands on your hips. You chose one of the textbooks at random, shoving it in your bag and gesturing for Sirius to follow you. You trotted out of the library, ignoring Sirius’s claim that you had to sign the book out. “I’m just borrowing it!” You exclaimed, taking the first flight of stairs up. Sirius had trouble catching up with you, and was quickly lured into a hallway he didn’t recognise. A hallway on the fifth floor.
“What are we doing up here?” He asked, breathing heavily. You ignored his question, instead whispering under your breath “Where is it?” Sirius matched your pace as you came to a slow walk, pacing in circles around the same pillar. “I swear it was here.” “What was here?” Sirius asked, watching you. But his question was quickly answered for him when a big wooden door appeared on the empty wall in front of you both. Matching gasps left your lips, and Sirius cautiously watched as you walked up to the door, placing a hand on its peeling paint. “The music room.” You mumbled, finally pushing the door open.
Sirius followed you through the wooden door, jumping slightly when it slammed close behind him. His breath had been taken away. The room was enormous. It had a stage with a grand piano and several percussion and string instruments littered around the room. There were even muggle microphones, which he knew you often used in concerts, contrary to the normal amplification spell.
In all seven years at Hogwarts, Sirius and the marauders had restlessly tried looking for this room: the room of Come and Go. They had read about it, doubting its existence after years of failure. And here you were, not even three weeks into your time at Hogwarts, and you had found it. “This isn’t a music room,” Sirius started, looking around. Your footsteps came to a halt, and you spun around to face him with your eyebrows raised. “This is the room of requirements. I never thought I'd live to see it.” Sirius returned his attention to you, a glint in his eyes like he was eleven, seeing Honeydukes for the first time. He’d have to take you there one day.
“It gives you a room you want the most. And you… You really want somewhere to play your music.” He guessed, eyes filled with empathy. You hummed. “Not just play. Write, compose. Sing too loud sometimes and embarrass myself.” Sirius laughed, and you joined in until a comfortable silence fell between the two of you. You spun on your feet and ran towards the stage, putting your hands on the floor of the stage and jumping so you could roll onto the elevated surface. Sirius followed you, equal ecstasy in his movements. Sirius sighed, staying laid down on the ground.
You grinned down at Sirius, a microphone now in your hand, and asked “Do you play any instruments, Mr. Black?” Sirius’s cheeks bloomed with a bright blush, and he sat up straight, shyly muttered “I play the piano.” You laughed, nodding at his words “Okay, I see. Pureblood parents force you to play? Let me guess, you have a sibling and they play the violin.” Sirius scoffed, muttering “Shut up” as he stood up, though his bold smile didn’t budge.
“I have skills. I’ll show you.” You hummed, unconvinced, watching as Sirius sat down in front of the grand piano, fingers skillfully resting on the keys. His fingers danced across the keys, and despite the years it’s been since he’s touched the instrument, he didn’t make a single mistake, shutting his eyes as he let the music flow through his veins. Sirius opened his eyes to glance up at you, and when he spotted the mesmerised smile on your face, he felt his fingers press all the wrong keys, causing an unpleasant sound to fill the room. “Sorry!” You both cried out, and Sirius furrowed his eyebrows at you. “I distracted you, I didn’t mean to.” Sirius shook his head, gesturing a hand towards you. “It’s your turn now.”
You and Sirius spent all night in the room of requirements, playing music and trying to teach him how to play the guitar. He took a particular interest in the electric one, which you immediately thought suited him. He was more than just a piano player. Sirius was a rockstar, whether he knew it yet or not.
“So tell me about this spell in song thing.” Sirius brought up after a long break from music. You had just returned from the kitchens, thankfully not too far from this hidden room, and had only narrowly missed some Professor who was doing their rounds. “Well, from what I’ve learned, you can either make the music to a song a spell, so that when the instruments are played together, a spell is cast. Or it could be the lyrics that are the spell. The difference between that and a normal spell is that the lyrics are real words, but our spells that we cast as witches and wizards are mostly latin. Never the spoken language that we use. But then it gets complicated, because if someone wants to replicate the spell, everything has to be the same. Each note, each harmony. Otherwise, the spell risks being a curse.”
Sirius was silent. He didn’t even have any questions. “Have you heard of the Ballad of the Witches’ Road?” You asked, and the boy nodded “You recorded your own version of it.” You grinned, nodding eagerly. “Well, the song was written centuries ago — no one knows by who or where it was written, but it became crazy popular. The original song wasn’t a spell, but then each version of it that was created afterwards had its own different spell. The sacred chant version uses the chant itself as the spell, but in the version that is most popular now, the guitar solo is a protection spell. I don’t know how it works, I really don’t.” Sirius’s mouth was gaped open, a silent question lingering in the air, but you refused to answer it if he didn't explicitly ask you. “And in your version?”
You cleared your throat, looking down at the guitar in front of you. “In my version, my voice is a love spell. I played it to my parents in hopes that they would fall back in love. Clearly, it didn’t work.”
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗
Over the next couple of weeks, you’d decided that you’d asked Sirius to come up with you to your music room too often. You were being a burden. If he wanted to come with you, he could always ask. You’d grown fond of the boy, and even his friends, though you never asked to sit with them. At breakfast, Sirius would wave you over, and you’d happily sit next to him, smiling and nodding along to the conversation, only ever speaking if a question was directed towards you.
In lessons, you’d sit and write song lyrics in a note book you took with you everywhere, and Professors loved to target you with bombardments of questions. You’d shut your book, tilt your head to the side and flawlessly answer every question thrown at you. They hated it, but it made Sirius smile. He was lucky that while people admired you in the hallways, he could call out your name, jog up next to you and hold enjoyable conversations with you. He even ditched his friends to go to Hogsmeade with you. When he’d asked you to come with the group, you stared at your hands, declining his offer respectfully.
“How about just us, then?”
“Sirius, you don’t have to ditch your friends for me.”
“But you are my friend.”
It hadn’t been a very successful outing, despite you and Sirius having a wonderful time. He took you to Honeydukes and smiled at the amazed expression on your face when you gasped. You dragged him over to the music store and signed a record of your album a young girl was buying. But when you both finally decided it was time to cozy up with a butterbeer, arms linked together, you met unpleasant company at the door of the three broomsticks.
Years of experience allowed you to spot reporters and journalists from a mile away. You stopped in your tracks, pulling Sirius back by the arm you had hooked with yours. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He had asked, following your line of sight. “Sirius, those are-” But it was too late, because they had finally seen you. The lady immediately sped towards you with a list of questions she was ready to ask whilst the man next to her pulled out an expensive camera and immediately started taking photos, the flash blinding you each time it went off. Sirius instantly tried shielding you from the pair, his hand slipping into yours so you wouldn’t lose him. Sirius dragged you into the popular pub, and by magic, Madame Rosemerta appeared and locked the door before the reporters could enter.
Sirius had immediately asked you if you were okay, but his question was drowned out by laughs coming from the other side of the pub. It was the same blond boy who had met you on the train, with his insolent group of friends who were joking about the encounter. Well, now you knew exactly who had ratted you out to the reporters. “Here, sweetheart.” Had said Sirius as he offered you a fresh butterbeer, but your mood had already been spoiled, and all you wanted to do was return to the castle.
“Look, Sirius, you’re wonderful, and I’ve had so much fun but-” your consistent glances towards the door had given what you wanted to say away, and Sirius nodded again. “Hey, I’ll walk back with you, okay?” Thankfully, the reporters were already gone by the time you left the pub, and you dug around in your pocket to pay Sirius for the butterbeer. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He had said, rejecting your two silver sickles.
Once in the castle once more, you hid in your dorm for the rest of the day, dreading the headline that would be on the papers tomorrow. Maybe they would scare Sirius away and he’ll stop spending time with you. Fuck, that would be the worst thing to ever happen to you, you thought, digging your head into your pillow.
You were very aware of your blooming feelings towards the curly-headed boy. In fact, every time you sat alone, or even in a lesson, and picked up a pencil, the only song lyrics you could thing about writing were about him. He invaded your mind, and usually, you wouldn’t complain about having some inspiration, but now? Well, you liked him so much you wanted him to collaborate on your music with you, to sing and to play with you. But you couldn’t do that if every single song you wrote was about falling head over heels for him.
Downstairs in the common room, Sirius was clenching his fists over the incident with the reporter. He went on about how you’d had so much fun together, all for it to be ruined by a two-minute encounter. “That shouldn’t happen to anyone! Fuck, I swear I’ll beat Malfoy up.” He said to his friends, letting his head fall back on the couch. James looked at him empathetically, but after a moment of silence, he shot a look to the other marauder who sat across from them, an idea suddenly popping up in his mind. Remus was already holding a quill in hand, parchment laid out in front of him.
“Hey, instead of beating that blond bitch up, how about we do something worse?”
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗
THE DAILY PROPHET
Heart of Chaos? More like heart of romance!
The young rockstar y/n l/n was seen cozying up with pureblood rebel Sirius Black at Hogsmeade on Sunday. As seen in the image, the couple was very physically close to each other, making fans wonder what is going on behind closed doors. Though we only have limited information on the topic, an anonymous source at Hogwarts has revealed to us this piece of information:
“Sirius Black is the only person she’ll speak to. Everyone is so welcoming to her, but she either spends time alone writing things, or she spends time with him. He’s probably the inspiration for her new album. I mean, you know how it is, the girl’s last album was literally called ‘Heart of Chaos’! All she does is probably write about boys!”
Everyone’s eyes were on you on Monday during breakfast, watching as you read the article about your so called love life. The worst part of the article wasn’t the assumption that you and Sirius were together, or that you were having sex ‘behind closed doors’. No, it was the assumption that your last album had been about boys when it had truly been about broken trust and personal healing. Hence, the Heart of Chaos.
Sirius noticed you hadn’t had anything to eat for breakfast, so when he saw you abruptly stand up, he pocketed an apple to bring to you later. He just hoped that Malfoy came down for breakfast before you left.
And indeed, an unrecognisable Lucius Malfoy ran down to the Great Hall just as you turned to face the entrance. Loud gasps and laughter was heard instantly at the sight of the disheveled teenager. Lucius had been transformed into your number one fan. His face had been made up for him to resemble a rock fan. A big, glittery, red star was painted around his eye, the other one sporting bold eyeshadow and liner. He wore heavy lashes that he couldn't tear off, and the best bit? Every single piece of clothing in the boy’s closet had been turned into merchandise you recently launched to promote your tour beginning this summer. In a desperate attempt to appear anywhere near normal, Lucius had begged Evan to lend him clothes, but the second he pulled the uniform on, it had also been transfigured into more merch.
“What have you done to me!?” He screamed over the laughter, marching over to the Gryffindor table, his gaze fixed on the marauders. You took confident strides towards Lucius until you stood right in front of him, blocking his route towards the three boys. The hall went silent when you put your hands on your hips, everyone listening closely to what you had to say. “And for the record, Malfoy, my last album wasn’t about boys, which I thought you might know considering you have been so far up my ass recently, you could practically see what I had for dinner last night.” You walked away from Malfoy as he stood in the middle of the Great Hall, an embarrassed flush on his face.
“Don’t worry,” Announced Sirius, standing up and beginning to follow you. “It wears off after 72 hours… I think.”
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗
Sirius was only able to find you a few hours later in the room of requirements, separated by clashing schedules. Sirius pulled the apple out of his pocket, offering it to you when he finally reached you. “Didn’t see you eat this morning.” You jumped at the sound of Sirius’s voice, a wide smile on our face as you shut your book, pushing it aside and making space for Sirius next to you. When Sirius sat, he wasn’t expecting you to throw your arms around him, engulfing him in a tight hug. “Thank you.” You mumbled into the crook of his neck. “Hey, why should you be embarrassed for something he did? Also, I’ve got to say your comment was beautiful.” “What, about him seeing my dinner?” Sirius laughed as you let go of him, throwing an arm around you and tugging you in closer to him.
“So, it doesn’t change anything for you?” You whispered to him, afraid of his response. “Why would a little gossipy article change anything for me? Whatever this is, it doesn’t need a reporter to put labels on it. So, tell me what you’re working on.” “I- just a song.” Sirius heard the wobble in your voice, but decided not to ask about it, watching as you wiped at your eyes. “Um, a song I actually wanted you to sing.” Sirius made a sound of surprise in his throat. “Love, you know I don’t sing.” Your laugh surprised him. “Yes you do, you just don’t know it yet.”
Sirius watched as you jumped up from your place on the couch “This song is a little different to what I usually write and perform.” You told him, pulling out your wand and grabbing the sheets of music from the table. You muttered a spell, enchanting each instrument to play its own part before you finally grabbed your electric guitar and lyric sheet.
The second your fingers strummed the guitar, all the instruments came to life in a melody that Sirius instantly knew would change the world as you knew it. Then, you began singing the lyrics, your voice as light as an angel for a tune that didn’t match it.
“I wanted to be with you alone
And talk about the weather,”
And Sirius was instantly in love. Not that he hadn’t been before, no. Sirius had realised that meeting his heroes wasn’t always a bad thing since he sat down with you in the middle of a staircase. You’d looked at him with angel eyes, looking to him for comfort when speaking to his other friends. Sirius was lost in a trance as you observed him now as you sang, watching for each and every reaction. You cleared your throat nervously when you got to the chorus.
“Something happens and I'm head over heels
I never find out until I'm head over heels
Something happens and I'm head over heels
Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart
Don't, don't, don't throw it away”
Sirius’s mouth was agape. He pieced the song together, you figured. He stood up from his spot, walking over to you and putting his hands on your guitar. The second you stopped playing, the rest of the instruments died down too, putting an end to your never ending song. You let Sirius take your guitar from you, passing the thick strap over your head so he could put it to the side. “You want me to sing it?” Sirius whispered, his face mere inches away from yours. You nodded “Can only imagine it in your voice.”
“You know, it's fitting, because I really am head over heels for you.” You gasped at Sirius’s words, moving your gaze down to your feet but his hand was already at your chin, gently pushing your chin up so you could meet his eyes again. “I really wanted to kiss you in the great hall today.” You muttered, and Sirius grinned. “So did I. I love myself a woman who will stand up for herself.” “So you’ll sing the song?”
“How about you let me get that kiss first?” You felt your cheeks get hot as Sirius leaned down to press his lips against yours. Your hands immediately gripped his crinkled uniform shirt, pulling his chest flat against yours. He moved a hand to the back of your head, deepening the kiss as he slid his tongue in your mouth. You pressed yourself onto your tippy toes, but just as you wrapped your arms around Sirius’s shoulders, he broke the kiss, saying with a wide grin “How about you teach me this song, yeah?”
୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗
WIZARDS WEEKLY
Y/N L/N has begun her ‘Heart of Chaos: World Tour’, and fans were not surprised to see who she brought on stage.
Rumours of the singer-songwriter’s romance with Sirius Black started when she first moved to England to live with her aunt. The couple were spotted in Scotland’s very own Hogsmeade village, near the Hogwarts castle. Those rumours started around February 1978, and it is now September. The rockstar’s first show of the year-long tour was last night on June 10th, and fans went absolutely crazy. To open her second set l/n brought Sirius Black, her rumoured boyfriend, on stage with her, and they sang their newest collaborative song ‘Head over Heels’.
In a recent interview, l/n shared that her tour would be the start of something big, and it seems as though ‘Head over Heels’ is the beginning of that. The singer said that whilst she wrote and produced the entire song and its music, she felt as though the song would be perfect for someone else — that someone whom we now know is Sirius Black. However, when the pair of wizards sang ‘Head over Heels’ together, a strange phenomenon occurred. It seemed as though people in the audience became calmer, and there was more than one instance of people kissing during the audience. Whilst this isn’t exactly odd during concerts, our reporters noticed that this only occurred during the one song, and nowhere else in the show.
Experts are theorising that y/n l/n isn’t only one of the most talented artists of this new generation, but one of the most powerful witches too, embedding spells in songs, for instance, a love spell in 'Head over Heels'. This is often seen in music in North America, however l/n is introducing it to the rest of the world for the first time.
Sirius Black stayed with her on stage for the rest of the show, singing background vocals and playing the electric guitar to create the most magical duet people have witnessed in a long time. At the end of the show, they confirmed the old rumours started by an anonymous source, sharing a passionate kiss on stage in front of thousands upon thousands of fans. l/n revealed what the tour was starting — or rather ending, during the final moments of her first show of the ‘Heart of Chaos: World Tour’.
This tour would be her last as a solo artist.
At the end of the tour, she will be joining a group called ‘Marauders of Mischief’, in which her boyfriend Sirius Black will be the lead guitarist. l/n and Black revealed to us that the other three members of the band would be Remus Lupin, James Potter and Marlene McKinnon, all of whom l/n met whilst she studied at Hogwarts for less than a year. When asked in an interview about how this band was formed, l/n opened up about a lot of details.
Y/N L/N: Truly, I didn’t speak to Remus, James or Marls much when I was at Hogwarts. But towards the end of the year, I opened up more, and when they discovered that Sirius and I were writing music together, they showed an interest. We spent a day in the music room together, and we instantly knew that we were forming a band. And James’s lovely fiancé, one of my best friends, Lily Evans is our manager, and you know, it’s the six of us against the world. I don’t want to spoil too much, but since I’ve become an independent artist, they’ve been helping me — and Sirius — out with this tour. So they’re on tour with us right now as our sort of ‘backstage team’ which means that we get to spend every day together. And that means we’ve spent a lot of time writing and producing music. So, stay tuned for what we release.
Coming circa 1979.
taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes, @friedfreyfries, @azure-drag0ness
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kitkatkl · 6 months ago
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I absolutely love this writing style.. and the letter at the end!? 😭💕
‪‪Unravel Me
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Pairing: Remus Lupin x F! Reader
Genre: Soulmate AU (Reincarnation) Series, Angst, Hurt/ Comfort, Fluff, Slow burn
Summary: Remus Lupin never believed he had a soulmate—until one accidental touch shatters his carefully built walls. The wolf inside him has always known, but Remus refuses to accept that fate could be so cruel as to tie her to him. Haunted by longing and fear, he tries to run, but she is relentless—warmth slipping through the cracks, undoing him piece by piece. As desire wars with self-doubt, Remus must decide: fight fate or surrender to the one thing he’s always denied himself.
Prev. // Next
Word Count: 4434
Chapter Five: Hogsmeade
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
 The way Remus’ gaze  continuously shifted to the entrance of the Three Broomsticks every minute or so would have been amusing if it weren’t just slightly pathetic. He would tense momentarily when the door would open and then subsequently deflate when the person walking through said door wasn’t her; it would have gone entirely unnoticed by most people but of course his friends were watching with varying levels of amusement. They had the decency to remain silent on the matter. But that would only last for so long, he could practically see Sirius vibrating to make some sort of remark. 
He was only half listening to the conversion that was currently taking place, something about James’ mum inviting them over for something— a dinner maybe, or a gathering of some kind. Remus offered a half-hearted agreement when prodded, “Uh, yeah, sounds great.” 
James didn’t take offense, instead sharing a look with Lily that said more than he could understand. To know someone so intrinsically that words weren’t needed must have been a wondrous thing. Remus would like that. There were times where he didn’t want to talk. When words felt too heavy, when explaining himself felt like an impossible task. It had seemed so out of reach before, like something he could be a passive observer to in other people’s lives but never know the true weight of being known so deeply. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to be known so deeply; to have his secrets laid in front of someone for judgment like they were Anubis about to weigh all his wrongs and see if he were worthy. 
If she saw all of him, what would she think? She was kind, unbelievably so, but did that kindness extend to beasts? Because that was what he was. A wizard, yes, but a beast nonetheless, according to the ministry. Half-human at best. A complete monster at worst. 
She was his Anubis. She was his Rhadamanthus. She alone guarded the gates to any form of salvation he could have. Her judgment had the power to undo him in ways he could never recover from, there was no doubt in his mind about that. If the softness in her gaze turned to disgust or fear he knew that it would haunt him for the rest of his life. A rejection outright would kill him. 
It wasn’t unheard of, but a rejection of a soulmate was not something people did. Even Remus, in the throes of his self-inflicted torture and exile, had not thought to do it. In part because he was incredibly selfish, but also because of what it would have done to her. The pain that accompanies the breaking of a soul tie is like nothing else, he’s heard. It’s a visceral thing—all the pain of a physical wound without the possibility of alleviating  it. It was a lasting scar on the soul. Remus was no stranger to scars that never healed, but he’d be damned if he marred her in any way. 
But, if she decided that this was too much, that the monster he turned into proved too difficult to deal with, he wouldn’t blame her—he couldn’t. His friends had come to terms with his lycanthropy under very specific circumstances: James, who came from a family who gave acceptance with a freedom that was unheard of, Sirius, who found a family in the friends he had and would do whatever he needed to in order to ensure their happiness, and Peter, who had always followed where they led, eager to prove himself and unwilling to be left behind. They had chosen him despite the danger, despite the fear, and they had done so as children, when the enormity of his condition was still something distant, something they could solve with a bit of clever magic and reckless bravery.
But she—she hadn’t grown up beside him, hadn’t built her world around him the way they had. She had her own life, her own dreams, and she had no reason to rearrange them for him. He wouldn’t blame her if she left. He wouldn’t even ask her to stay. 
And yet, selfishly, desperately, he wanted her to. 
Remus is pulled from his thoughts by a swift kick to the shin. It’s gentle enough that he knows it’s Lily’s doing. He shoots a glare but before he could ask what's gotten into her, he sees why she did it. Weaving through the throng of people, offering a quick hello or smile to some in passing is her. 
She carried herself in a manner he was familiar with. She had the same blinding charisma James and Sirius had, but in a way that was all her own. She was light on her feet, like a dancer even if he’d seen walk into a desk a couple of times or somehow manage to stumble on nothing at all. Her very presence was enough to make the space brighter. 
He could see her eyes scan the crowd until they landed on him. He felt himself freeze, and he knew that it was very noticeable when he saw the way the corners of her lips twitched slightly. Then there was Sirius’ amused snort that was silenced with an elbow to the ribs from Lily, well Remus assumed it was Lily’s doing because he couldn’t quite force his gaze away from her as she made her way to their table.  
“Sorry, I took longer than I thought I would,” she said as she slid into the seat in front of him. 
Lily is the one to respond as Remus tries to remember how to have a conversation, “Oh, it’s alright. We haven’t been here long anyway.” 
That… was a lie. The group had been there maybe an hour? Closing in on an hour and a half, but she didn’t need to know that. “You’re friend’s weren’t upset, I hope,” Remus finds himself asking before he realized he’d spoken, “that you came I mean.” 
She shakes her head and waves the notion away dismissively, “No, they’re not upset. Surprised, maybe, but they’d have no reason to be upset.” 
“Surprised?” Peter asked. 
She nods, turning her attention to Peter. He liked that about her. Whenever she was in a conversation she was present, fully and wholly. There was never a question whether she was listening, it was obvious in the way she engaged. Remus felt that many people had conversations simply to hear themselves speak. She did not. “You lot are just a group I don’t really hang out with, they were just a bit… surprised when I told them I’d be meeting with you guys here.”
The group falls into easy conversation, which doesn’t come as a shock to Remus. She is a very easy person to like, objectively. He interjects with a comment sporadically, and when her eyes return to him he hopes that he doesn’t look like a deer in headlights. If he does, she doesn’t acknowledge it, she simply responds to his comment. 
Lily was right, though he’d never tell her lest he have to suffer another insufferable ‘I told you so’. Having the rest of them there, taking on the brunt of the conversation while Remus attempted to recall how normal conversations were had, was very helpful. 
That gratitude was short-lived. 
He saw James and Sirius share a look he’d seen far too often from the pair. Remus knew what they were up to before they even began. It wasn’t exactly difficult to guess. 
“Lils, we should stop by Spintwitches before they close for the night,” James started, already getting up from his seat. Lily, who was clearly looped into this plan, agreed without hesitation. 
Sirius was the next to leave, with a lot less subtlety than the other two. Peter, who hadn’t been clued into the plan, stuck around until Sirius came back, hoisted the poor boy up, and hauled him out as well. The scene was straight out of one of those sitcoms his mother watched. 
“That was a lot quicker than I thought it’d be,” the amused lilt to her tone was not what he was expecting. He stopped glaring at the door his friends had just escaped through and looked back at her. 
“What?”
“I figured they’d at least wait twenty, fifteen seems a bit obvious.” 
He gave a huff of laughter, “They aren’t really… known for their subtlety.” 
“No, I suppose not,” she grinned. “I take it they didn’t let you in on their plan?”
“Oh, absolutely not,” he found himself returning her smile. Remus was still nervous and he would be giving his friends an ear full once he got back to their dorm, but he was decidedly glad that they had left. It wasn’t that Remus had suddenly shed his shier ways, or that he was unexpectedly filled with confidence; he was just glad to not have to share her attention with everyone else. 
It was selfish and it caught him off guard, but it was the truth. The wolf hated the way her eyes would leave his or when her attention was shifted and now that they were alone, well as alone as they could be in a crowded pub, it returned to that same stillness he’d felt that day in the library. It wasn’t gone, but Remus didn’t feel like he was in a constant losing battle against it. 
“So,” her eyes filled with warmth and mirth as she looked at him too, “are you having a decent time, or are you too polite to also leave?”
Remus huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You caught me—I’m miserable, but it’d be a little mean to leave you here by yourself,” he deadpanned.
She gasped dramatically, clutching at her chest. “You wound me, Lupin.”
He smirked but ducked his head, toying with the handle of his butterbeer. “I mean it. I’m having a good time.”
Her teasing smile softened, and she studied him for a long moment, like she was trying to decide if she’d heard him right. Then, she leaned in slightly, her voice quieter when she spoke again.
“Me too.”
The beat of silence that settled with them was anything but uncomfortable. The pub was still loud, still filled with chatter and music and clinking glasses, but it all blurred into the background. For a moment it was just them, in that moment, at that table, and nothing else mattered. 
“Do you want to stay here?” Her voice was soft, but her eyes held something else—something that made his pulse stumble. It wasn’t just a question; it was an invitation. And Merlin, did she make it difficult to say no.
His first instinct was to agree and remain in the relative comfort of the pub atmosphere—to let himself get lost in the warmth of her gaze, in the way she looked at him like she already knew the answer. But Remus had spent years learning to suppress instinct, to keep his desires caged behind careful words. So, instead of deflecting or hiding, he let himself be honest.
“No,” he said, his voice steady.
A look of mild shock passed across her features. Then, something softer settled. It was a look he hadn’t seen her wear before, and he hoped he would be the only one to ever be on the receiving end of. 
“Do you want to get out of here?” she leaned in slightly, as if she were sharing a secret with him. He found himself leaning in as well. They were close, far closer than they’d ever been before and yet not close enough. Remus couldn’t help the way his eyes mapped out her face, committing it to memory in case he never got the opportunity again.
“Yes,” he breathed. It was an admission, a surrender. 
The air between them buzzed with unspoken words but an understanding that was shared between them. Remus barely noticed as he stood, as she reached for her coat, as they moved together toward the exit. The pub, the noise, the rest of the world—it all faded into something distant and unimportant.
All that mattered was that they were leaving together.
The noise of the pub was muffled as the door shut behind them. He wasn’t sure where they were going, all he knew was that he would follow her to wherever she led them. 
She looked up at him and Remus felt himself blush. He would blame it on the weather if it was ever mentioned, “Where did you want to go?”
“I didn’t really have a plan,” she admits sheepishly. “I just… sometimes I don’t do too well in crowded places, and I wanted to actually talk to you, you know?”
Her voice was quiet, but the honesty in it struck something deep in Remus. He understood that feeling all too well—the weight of too many voices, too many eyes, the way it could press in until it was suffocating. But more than that, her ability to say it so plainly, without hesitation or apology, added to the growing list of things he admired about her.
“We could…” he hesitated. He didn’t want to assume or push, but the way she was looking at him—like she trusted him to fill in the blank— made him feel inclined to say something. 
“We could go for a walk,” he suggested. “It’s quiet by the lake around this time, nice too.” 
She tilted her head in that endearing way he liked and smiled at him, “Sounds perfect.” 
Relief flooded his chest, mixed with something warmer. For a moment, neither of them spoke, just walking side by side, their steps falling into an easy rhythm. 
After a while she broke the silence softly, “You’re easy to talk to, you know.” 
“Really,” he asked through a huff of laughter, “I think I make for a horrible conversation partner.” 
She nudged him gently with her shoulder, “You don’t.”
As he looked at her he allowed himself to believe her, if even for just a moment.  
“You’ll see soon enough that I do,” he replied easily. 
“Or,” she bantered, “you might be a little too hard on yourself.”
He made a noncommittal noise in response but grinned all the same, “Or,” he repeated in the same manner, “I’m exactly right.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head like he was being impossible, but the way she gazed at him told another story, “You’re very determined to be self-deprecating, aren’t you?”
“It’s one of my best qualities.” 
She hummed, pretending to consider her next words, “I don’t know, I happen to like the way you laugh. I’d be willing to say that’s one of your best qualities.”
Something so simple shouldn’t have the power to make him stumble, but it did. He hoped she didn’t notice the way his steps faltered. Of course she did. The knowing glint in her eyes made it clear that she was enjoying the way that something so innocuous had the ability to throw him off balance. 
“See, you’re not awful at talking. You just don’t know how easy you are to be around,” she nudged his arm gently. 
Remus didn’t know what to do with that, so he just shook his head, smiling despite himself. “You’re relentless.”
“And you’re stubborn,” she countered with a grin.
He sighed, long-suffering but amused. “I suppose this means we’re at an impasse.”
“Not necessarily.” She turned to him, stepping slightly closer as they walked. “You could just accept that you might not be the best judge of yourself.”
Remus arched an eyebrow. “And I suppose you think you are?”
“Maybe.” She smirked. “Maybe I just know a good person when I see one.”
His breath caught for just a second, something warm and unfamiliar curling in his chest. He wanted to argue, to brush it off, to pretend like her words didn’t mean more than they should. But then she reached out, just briefly, fingers brushing his as they walked. He wanted nothing more than to take her hand into his, but he didn’t—he couldn’t. 
He cleared his throat, “Well, I might begin questioning your judgment if that’s what you think.” 
She gasped in mock-offense, “I have great judgment of character, I’ll have you know.” 
Remus smirked. “I’m beginning to doubt that.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, stepping slightly ahead and turning to walk backward so she could face him. “You’re just mad because I see right through you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, do you?”
“Mhm.” She crossed her arms, looking far too pleased with herself. “You pretend you’re terrible at conversation, but you’re not. You pretend you don’t like attention, but I think you do—just in the right ways, from the right people.”
His stomach flipped at that, but he kept his expression carefully neutral. “And let me guess, you think you’re one of those right people?”
She tilted her head, considering. “I don’t know. Am I?”
It was an invitation as much as it was a challenge, and Remus hated how much he wanted to accept it. His fingers twitched at his side, aching to reach for hers, but he shoved them into his pockets instead.
“You certainly think highly of yourself,” he deflected, shaking his head.
She grinned. “Someone has to. You’ve got no one else besides yourself at the end of the day, might as well be nice.”
Remus let out a breath of a laugh, glancing down as they walked. “You’re relentless,” he muttered again.
“And you’re still stubborn,” she shot back.
They were quiet for a beat, the only sound was the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet. Then, in a voice much softer than before, she added, “I meant it, though.”
He looked over at her, and this time, she wasn’t teasing. Her expression was open, earnest.
“I think you’re a good person, Remus.”
His breath caught. He wasn’t sure why that particular phrase made something tighten in his chest, but it did. Maybe because it was so simple. So certain.
“You hardly know me,” he replied, his tone softer and laced with that same self-doubt. 
She shrugged, unfazed. “I know enough.”
Remus huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “That’s a dangerous thing to say.”
“Why?” she challenged, tilting her head. “Because you’re secretly a villain?”
“Maybe.” His lips quirked, but there was something else there—something heavier lurking beneath the joke.
She studied him for a moment, then softened. “No. I don’t think so.”
He exhaled sharply through his nose. “And what if you’re wrong?”
She smiled, stepping a little closer, the night air wrapping around them like a secret. “Then I’ll take my chances.”
“Like I said, dangerous,” he muttered. Remus swallowed. She was too close, or maybe not close enough. He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that she looked at him like she saw something in him worth believing in—something worth knowing, even when he wasn’t sure he believed in it himself.
“Like I said,” the challenge in her eyes made him want to fall to his knees. He was such a mess when it came to her. “I’m a great judge of character.” 
"You must be," he muttered, more to himself than anything. "You're certainly confident in it."
She smirked. "I am. And the more you argue, the more convinced I am that I’m right."
He shook his head, biting down a smile. "That doesn't seem fair."
“If it makes you feel better, I promise I don’t say things I don’t mean,” it might have been wishful thinking, but he thought he saw her eyes linger on his lips a second longer than normal before returning to his eyes. 
That made him pause. There was something about the way she said it—lighthearted but firm, like she wasn’t just teasing him anymore.
His heart did an inconvenient little lurch.
As the night continued Remus found that being around her was a lot easier than he thought it would be. Which proved even more of a problem. He couldn’t be with her in the way he wanted, he wouldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t subject her to the wolf in a way that would alter or force her to get off whatever path she had worked so hard to forge for herself. He also wouldn’t cut the string that tied them together, out of selfishness or to spare her from the pain he wasn’t sure. So, he would remain by her side in the only way he could—as her friend. 
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
When the duo meandered their way back towards town square he almost didn’t notice the small group that seemed to be waiting for them. Almost. But, it was difficult to ignore Sirius’ too-loud gasp that could be heard from where they were. 
“Sorry in advance,” Remus sighs as they approach. 
Sirius practically shouted, clutching his chest like he’d just witnessed something scandalous. “Look who decided to return to us.”
James, standing beside him, grinned far too wide to be innocent. “I thought we’d have to send out a search party. Maybe alert the authorities.”
“Stop it,” Lily’s chiding was ineffective since she was stifling her laughter. 
Remus ran a hand over his face, groaning. “You absolute menaces.”
Next to him, she laughed—because of course she found this entertaining. “I think they missed you, Remus.”
Sirius gasped again, more dramatically this time, and grabbed James by the arm and loudly ‘whispered’, “Did you hear that? Remus, not ‘Lupin.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but his face felt uncomfortably warm. “Merlin, you lot are insufferable.”
James smirked. “We missed you, mate.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Oh, we definitely did,” Sirius insisted. “We needed details. A full report. A timeline. You left the pub and just—vanished.”
“It’s been an hour,” Remus deadpanned.
“An hour too long,” Peter said solemnly.
If even Peter was joining in then Remus knew that the night would be long and likely result in a migraine. It was their first real chance to tease Remus in the way that he’d done to them in their various situations, so he could  see why they were so willing to jump at the opportunity, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. 
Next to him, she shook her head, still grinning. “I think your friends are a little obsessed with you.”
He  gave a dry laugh, “You have no idea.” 
Sirius slung an arm around Remus’ shoulders—to which the young lycanthrope pushed off almost immediately— grinning wildly. “So, Moony, tell us—was it a romantic stroll under the stars?”
James waggled his eyebrows. “Did you gaze longingly into each other’s eyes?”
Peter gasped. “Did you hold hands?”
Remus turned to her, as serious as he could manage. “This is what I deal with daily. You still think I’m a great judge of character?”
She bit her lip, like she was fighting back laughter, “I said I was a good judge of character. Jury’s still out on you though.”
“Funny,” he deadpans, but the glint in his eyes is telling. 
Her answering smile had him suppressing a grin. If she was going to be his friend he’d have to learn to control the stuttering of his heart when she looked at him like that. 
Remus’ friends didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on her openly now, no longer stealing glances when he thought no one was looking. The shift was small, insignificant and would have gone unnoticed by most, but they might as well have been neon signs to them. 
Sirius waggled his eyebrows, nudging James none too subtly. “Well, would you look at that?”
James hummed in agreement, crossing his arms as if observing something particularly fascinating. “Interesting. Very interesting.”
Remus ignored them, “I think it’s probably best for your sanity if you go before they’ve managed to drive you mad.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” she asks in feigned indignation. “And here I thought we had a nice time.”
“We did,” he agreed readily. “But I don’t want my friends to be the reason you don’t want to come around me again. I’d rather do that on my own.” 
She laughed and shook her head, “I doubt that’ll happen.” 
The certainty in her voice makes his chest ache. He wants to believe her, more than anything, but he can’t. Not fully at least. She might like Remus, he wasn’t entirely sure why she would but she seemed to, but the wolf was something else. However, he would take what he could get—gladly hold onto what she offered him even if she wasn’t fully aware what it meant to him or what she was offering it to—for as long as she was willing to give it. 
“We’ll see.” 
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
My Love, 
Much has happened since my last letter, but all falls to the wayside as I think of you. Your last letter found me later than I had hoped, but I do not put that blame on you, my heart. The distance separating us does not make it easy, I know, so I will treasure each one that finds me. I hope you are well. I would be beside myself if you were anything less than that. I am doing fine. The days are long and the path is treacherous, but it will be worth it once I am back to you. 
You have been on my mind as you are in my heart, ever-present. In two weeks time I will be by your side again. That knowledge has kept me sane in the roughest of times. My companions do not hold even a modicum of your charm or wit or sensibilities and as such I am left missing you in all aspects. I miss you terribly as it is, adding my less than spectacular company only makes it worse. Though, I assume you tire of my complaining, so I will leave it at that for now. 
I’m sure you are waiting with baited breath to hear of our latest endeavors, so I will no longer keep you waiting. We believe to have found the resting place of the artifact we have spent months searching for. There were markings, language I would presume, that we are still attempting to decipher. I have said it would be in our best interest to wait until we know more, but of course my compatriots are against that idea. They seemed more irate than usual at this suggestion, but I will hold firm on it. Though, I do find it peculiar that 
[An unfinished letter found while excavating what seemed to be the ruins of a camp.]
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Unravel Me Masterlist
Taglist: @a1ienmush, @boromoony, @kitkatkl, @moonyswifee, @mxg111, @movnchild,
73 notes · View notes
kitkatkl · 6 months ago
Text
What a good slooowwww burn 🩷
Unravel Me
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Pairing: Remus Lupin x F! Reader
Genre: Soulmate AU (Reincarnation) Series, Angst, Hurt/ Comfort, Fluff, Slow burn
Summary: Remus Lupin never believed he had a soulmate—until one accidental touch shatters his carefully built walls. The wolf inside him has always known, but Remus refuses to accept that fate could be so cruel as to tie her to him. Haunted by longing and fear, he tries to run, but she is relentless—warmth slipping through the cracks, undoing him piece by piece. As desire wars with self-doubt, Remus must decide: fight fate or surrender to the one thing he’s always denied himself.
Prev. // Next
Word Count: 3966
Chapter Four: This Is Me Trying
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
“And that was all she said?” Lily asked Remus as they made their way to the library.  The corridors were filled with other students too consumed by their own conversations and happenings to give the duo much thought. 
“Yup.” 
“Okay,” Lily said slowly as she thought through her next words carefully. “But did she say it like ‘I don’t have to go’ or ‘I don’t have to go’?”
Remus stared at her blankly for a moment, “That… you just said it the same twice.”
The look of incredulity that settled on Lily’s face would have been comical during different circumstances. “Are you dense?” she asked, stopping in her tracks to turn and face him fully. “The tone, Remus! How did she say it? Was it casual? Hesitant? Was she giving you an out or hoping you’d ask her to join?”
Remus blinked, suddenly regretting every life choice that had led him to this conversation. “I—I don’t know,” he admitted, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “She just said it.”
Lily groaned, throwing her hands up. “Hopeless,” she muttered. “Absolutely hopeless. All of you, every single one.”
Since James and Lily became an item his own friendship with Lily had flourished. It was nice, most of the time. 
She was a force, much like James but with a different kind of intensity—one that was quieter, more precise. She had a way of picking apart his thoughts before he even had the chance to process them himself, which was both helpful and infuriating.
Most of the time, he appreciated it.
Right now, however, as she continued to stare at him like he was the dimmest person alive, he wasn’t so sure.
“I don’t even know why I brought it up,” he grumbled as he continued down the hall. It was a lie, boldfaced and completely. He knew why he brought it up. 
James would be no help. He had known him long enough to predict exactly what he would say—Just tell her, mate, what’s the worst that could happen? And Remus was not about to do that. Because the pessimist that he was, Remus could go on and on about a hundred different ways doing that would end in complete and utter disaster. Sirius would likely say the same, in cruder fashion too most likely. Peter would likely agree with Remus, telling him that it was better to be safe than sorry, better to never give this the chance to turn into something that could potentially hurt him. Maybe, once upon a time, Remus would have taken that advice. 
Which led him to the only other person he could turn to, and one that would likely have better advice—Lily Evans. She was, after all, the only one who wouldn’t tell him to throw caution to the wind like James and Sirius, but also wouldn’t feed into his self-sabotaging instincts the way Peter might.
Lily was practical but not cold. She was honest but not unkind. If anyone could help him untangle this mess—or at the very least, stop him from spiraling any further—it was her.
Which was how he found himself trudging toward the library, bracing himself for whatever blunt wisdom she was about to throw at him.
Remus had a sneaking suspicion that James had already filled Lily in on the basics, he was right of course. He wasn’t particularly mad about it though. He expected it because there was nothing James Potter kept from the redhead. If he had someone like that, someone who knew him, who saw him completely and still stayed—he doubted he’d keep anything from them either.
Not that he was thinking about her in that way.
Not at all.
“I mean,” Lily said after a moment, tilting her head thoughtfully, “you have to let her join, right?”
Remus opened his mouth to argue, but she continued before he could.
“It’ll be a group of us, which would make it less tense,” she reasoned. “You wouldn’t have the pressure of it being one-on-one. Plus, it’d be nice not being the only girl stuck with you lot.”
Remus huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I suppose that’s a fair point.”
Lily grinned. “It’s an excellent point, actually.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “And what if it is tense? What if it’s weird?”
Lily gave him a look. “Then it’ll be weird,” she said simply. “And you’ll deal with it, like a grown adult, instead of running away and brooding over it in some dark corner of the castle.”
Remus groaned, but she wasn’t wrong. 
The pair entered the library, and Remus nearly turned right back around.
Because there she was—sitting at one of the long wooden tables, completely lost in whatever she was studying, utterly unaware that she was the sole topic of their current conversation. He shouldn’t be surprised. Of course she’d be here. She was as much a creature of habit as he was. She always sat there, if the space was available, or on the second floor tucked away at one of the tables if the library was too crowded. 
The only reason he knew that was because he also spent a lot of time in the library and just happened to notice. 
Lily, none the wiser, kept talking, completely unbothered. Because unlike him, she wasn’t acutely aware of her presence, wasn’t pulled toward her like she was meant to be caught in her orbit. No, that was Remus’ plight to carry and his alone. 
“Even if it is bad, right?” Lily continued. “Say it goes horribly wrong—then there’s always next time.”
Remus quickly leads them up the spiralling staircase and away from where she could potentially hear their conversation. He doesn’t respond to Lily until they’re sat at a table, that just happened to have a vantage point to their subject of conversation. 
“What if it all goes to shit though,” Remus counters because he is nothing if not a doomer. ““What if I make a complete arse of myself, and she never wants to speak to me again?” He hesitated, then lowered his voice, almost as if saying it too loudly would make it real. “I will deny I ever said this if you tell anyone, but I think I might actually die if that happened. As in, keel over at that very moment and change the course of all of your lives.”
And then—of course—Lily grinned. She at least had the decency to not laugh in his face. It was when she did things like these that reminded him why she and James got on so well. They were both menaces in their own right. 
“Oh,” she said, smugness creeping into her voice. “Oh, this is so much worse than I thought. Never thought I’d see grumpy Lupin so besotted.  Don’t tell me you've already started scribbling her name in your notes with little hearts around them as well.”
Remus groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” Lily sing-songed, looking far too pleased with herself. “But I do love finally getting some honesty out of you.”
Remus risked a quick glance toward the table where she was still sitting, blissfully unaware of his absolute meltdown. Lily was right, of course, it was far worse than he was letting on. 
Far, far worse. Not doodling her name bad… but give it another day and he’s not so sure. 
“I’m opening up to you, please don’t make me regret it,” Remus groaned, burying his head in his hands. This was by far the most vulnerable he’s ever been. Turning into a monster was one thing, but talking about his feelings? A different kind of torture entirely. 
Lily patted his shoulder in what was probably meant to be a reassuring gesture but felt more like amusement.
“Oh, Remus,” she sighed dramatically, “I would never make you regret this.”
He lifted his head just enough to shoot a glare at her.
“Fine,” Lily relents far quicker than Remus knows the boys would have. 
“Let’s imagine it goes horribly wrong, right? You make a fool of yourself, like a proper arse of yourself, and you can’t string a sentence together or—”
“Get to the point,” Remus interrupted before he was sent into another spiral. 
Lily smirked but, thankfully, complied. “The point is, even if you do somehow manage to make a complete arse of yourself—which, honestly, you won’t—what’s the worst that happens? You get embarrassed? You sulk for a week? Do you honestly think she’d hold it against you? She doesn’t seem like the sort of girl to do that.”
Remus doesn’t have a comeback for that, no retort because she’s right. She didn’t seem like that kind of girl.
She was kind.
Not in the way most people were—not in a self-serving, transactional way, where kindness was given with the expectation of something in return.
She was kind in a way that seemed to come as naturally to her as breathing.
It was in the way she spoke to people, in the way she listened, in the way she noticed the smallest things about people and remembered them. It was in the way she had waited for him, in the way she had given him an out but never turned away. The offer hadn’t felt like pressure for him to decide what he wanted then and there, it was just patience. A quiet, steady thing. A kind of understanding that made his chest ache, because who does that? Who waits like that? Who lets someone figure themselves out without expecting anything in return? The answer was no one. No one does that. Except her. 
Because if Remus was feeling all these things, all these echoes of times long passed, then so was she. From the looks of it, she was handling it a lot better than he was. In the very least she wasn’t actively looking like she was constantly on the verge of a meltdown the way he so clearly did.  Or was she just better at hiding it? 
That made him freeze. He’d been so caught up in his own panic that he hadn’t thought about her. He felt so… selfish. Because for all his overthinking, all his agonizing over the possibility of losing her, he hadn’t considered that she might have been struggling with this too. That she might have been feeling the same echoes, the same pull, the same impossible weight of knowing—and yet, she had been the one who handled it with grace.
She had been the one to wait. To give him space. To let him run when every part of her had to have known that he was running from her.
Was that why she had refused to look at him in class?
Why she had avoided his gaze all day?
Was she preparing herself for the possibility that he would tell her that whatever this was—whatever it could be—was something he didn’t want?
The thought sent a sharp, unwelcome pang through his chest.
Because fuck, what if she was? What if she had already started pulling away—not because she had changed her mind, but because she thought he had? 
Because of his hesitation, his avoidance, his complete and utter inability to deal with emotions like a normal person?
For the first time all day, panic coiled tight in his gut—not from fear of what he might feel, but from the realization that she might think he had already made his choice. He had spent days thinking about what their past was like that he ignored what this version of himself was causing. Did she think… did she think he didn’t want her? He couldn’t blame her if she did—because, honestly, what else was she supposed to think? Every single thing he had done since that night pointed to the exact same conclusion.
Avoiding her. Ignoring her. Running every time she got too close.
Of course, she thought he didn’t want her.
But that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
He wanted her biblically, in a way that was pathetic.
He wanted her in a way that ached, in a way that made every cell in his body hum when she was near.
If he ever allowed himself, he would drown in her, surround himself in her, let himself have her in every way he had denied himself. He would be at her beck and call the same way he teased James for.
Following after her without hesitation, hanging onto her every word, looking for excuses to be near her—he knew it. He’d seen it happen to James, watched his best mate fall so hopelessly for Lily that he had reshaped himself without even realizing it.
And Remus had laughed. Had mocked him for it.
But now? Now, he was just as bad. Worse, even, because at least James had tried. At least James had done something about it instead of skulking around like a man starved, pretending he wasn’t already half in love.
He doubted Lily, who was currently saying something to him that was going completely unheard, ever felt unwanted. He was willing to bet everything that James had never made her feel like it was a burden to be tied to her; but Remus was, even though it couldn’t be farther from the truth. That made his stomach twist in the worst way, because the last thing he ever wanted to do was make her feel like she wasn’t wanted. Like the burden lied with her and not with him and the beast that called his body home. 
For the first time in his life, Remus was about to do something he’d never dream of doing. He was going to her, let her know that whatever was going on in that beautiful head of hers was wrong. He was going to tell her that his inability to handle his shit had nothing to do with ehr and everything to do with him being a complete and utter prat. 
“I’m… I’ll be back,” is all he offers the bewildered redhead before he’s up from his seat. He moves, not allowing himself the time to overthink the way he’s sure he will later. Instead, he takes the stairs two at a time. The walk to her feels simultaneously like the longest trek of his life and the shortest. The wolf howls with each step closer, eager to finally be close to her once more. 
Remus stops behind her seat, with the realization that he hadn’t exactly planned how he would tell her, just that he knew he had to. He stood behind her chair for a minute, contemplating how to even begin a conversation. He was saved, or punished; the jury was still out, when she glanced behind her. 
“What… did you need something?” she asked, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she looked up at him. He saw her hands twitched, as if ready to close her book and gather her things. Did she think he was about to ask her to leave? 
Remus felt like he was going to pass out, having her eyes on him again made that same pressure settle in his chest, but it didn’t feel as crushing. He probably looked like a right creep, standing there silently until she had turned around and then continued to remain silent. 
“Remus?” came her voice, twinged with worry. 
He felt his heart skip a beat, it was the first time she’d said his name—well his first name. She’d normally refer to him as ‘Lupin’ the way most people did. Hearing his name from her lips though… Merlin there wasn’t a better sound. He cleared his throat, pushing through the warmth beginning to settle on his face and the lump that threatened to make him unable to form a sentence. 
“We usually sit near the back, by the fireplace. At the Three Broomsticks, I mean. Usually one of us goes ahead to make sure the spot isn’t taken, typically it’s me, there was this whole thing with Pete and we just don’t really task him with it anymore.  So if you get there early I’ll… be there so,” Remus rambles and he can’t seem to stop himself even though every cell in his body is screaming at him to shut up. “Not saying that you do. You can get there anytime you want.  Not that I’m telling you you have to go or-”
Her confusion melts into something softer, into something that makes the noise of the library fade. Being seen by her was a vulnerable thing, it was exposed nerves and crumbling walls. Remus had a feeling that being known by her would be a different thing entirely. 
“I’m not good at this,” he confesses to her, like a  penitent sinner seeking forgiveness from the only one that could grant it. “I don’t… me being stupid and flighty doesn’t mean that I don’t…” 
He doesn’t know how to continue because if he does he knows he would have to admit all the things he’s been too much of a coward to. He would have to admit that he had already been half in love with her before this whole mess started and now it was just all… meant to be? He wasn’t meant to die alone? That, yes, fate had been cruel but not that cruel? How is he meant to tell her that all of this has thrown his whole life off kilter and he’s desperately trying to make sense of it all? He can’t say that, at least not now, so instead he’ll give her the only truth he can. 
“I want you to go,” it comes out like a breath he’d been holding in for too long. “I think you might find my friends incredibly annoying and I’m afraid I’ll make a total fool of myself in front of you, but I want you there.”
He pauses, and before he can think better of it he adds in a whisper, “I’m… I’m trying.” 
It’s not perfect. It’s not enough. It doesn’t erase the way he ran, the way he still feels like he’ll turn tail any minute. But it was all he could offer her. He figured she’d tell him that he was a moron for thinking it would change anything, that it would mean anything, but then she did something he hadn’t expected at all. 
She smiled at him and the warmth of it rivaled the sun, it melted some part of him he had long since let freeze. No one had ever looked at him like that—like he was something worth looking at. She tilted her head in that way she did when she was thinking something over, considering it with great care before she responded. “I’ll be there. I won’t be able to make it early, I have had plans with a few friends I’d hate to cancel, but I’ll be there.” 
Remus nodded and held back from asking further questions.  He wouldn’t ask her which friend. He wouldn’t ask her how long she’d think she’d be. He wouldn’t ask her what their plans were. Even though he wanted to know everything she thought, did, or wanted, he’d resist. 
“Yeah… yeah of course. We’re usually there for a while so you can stop by whenever you want,” he can feel his heartbeat in his ears, but he doesn’t stumble over his words the way he thought he would. He was freaking the fuck out—of course—but he didn’t do all the usual things he did when speaking to someone who wasn’t one of the few close friends he had. 
He didn’t break eye contact. 
He didn’t let the words die in his throat when he didn’t know how to continue.
He didn’t shut down. 
He just stood there, before her—vulnerable, exposed, raw, and trying. 
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
“You need to go,” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper. Keeping her eyes open was a herculean task and yet she tried. Sisyphean in nature, as if she could remain by his side by sheer force of will, “you shouldn’t be here. You’ll get—”
“Oh, sweet girl, I’m not going anywhere. Haven’t I already said that,” his voice mirrored hers, soft but laced with a worry that didn’t go unnoticed. He dabbed at her heated skin with a damp cloth, hoping to at least give her a modicum of comfort. He shushed her gently when she tried to protest, “Let me care for you, okay? It’s what I was created for.”
There was nothing more he could do. No magical cure. No miracle to come, no matter how much he prayed or bartered his own life for hers. So, this was all he could do. He could only watch as another cough wracked through her frail body. Could only watch as another stained cloth was added to the pile, stained with a crimson that would haunt him for the rest of his days. 
He brushed the hair from her face, letting his touch linger—for her comfort or his own, he wasn’t sure.  Her skin was too warm, her breath too shallow—he knew what was next. He had known since the doctor came, he knew it when the apothecaries could only offer tonics that could ease her pain but not cure it. But knowing did little to prepare him. How could one even begin to prepare themselves for the single greatest loss of their lives? How was he meant to 
“I’m so tired,” as if she did not spend most of her days as of late lost in dreams, hidden away where the pain could not find her. 
“I know, my heart, I know,” he suppressed his sobs, her last moments would not be in the presence of his sorrow. That could wait, for now all that mattered was her. All that ever mattered was her. “Best to get your rest, hm? Being the fairest girl is such work, that must be why you are so tired.” 
Her eyes, unfocused and seeing a world he could not, met his, “Such work.” 
The next words from her lips broke his heart even further, “I’m sorry.” 
“You don’t have a thing to be sorry for,” he responded firmly and filled with so much love it was about to break his heart in two—a piece for her to take so that she is not alone for too long in the place he could not follow her and the other to shrivel in his chest. “Not a thing.”
“I’m afraid,” she muttered, a moment of lucidity that had come so rarely in the passing days. She sounded so small and he could do nothing to shield her from it. The place she would go would be one he could not follow her to. 
“You won’t be alone for long, my heart. I will be there before you know it,” he memorized her face for a final time. “Just wait for me,” he whispered as he carded his fingers through her damp hair. 
Her eyes shut and they did not open again. The sobs that he refused to let her see now tore through him with a vengeance. The sound of a man who had just lost everything that made his days worth living. He peppered her face with kisses, for each time she had refused. If asked, he wouldn’t be able to say how long he kneeled there beside her, just that he had. 
He did not live to see next spring.
 If she was only permitted nineteen, then he would not witness a twentieth without her. It was for the best, really.  His sweet girl, his heart, had left him there and he had to find her. 
It was his job, it was what he was created for. 
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Unravel Me Masterlist
Taglist: @a1ienmush, @boromoony, @kitkatkl, @moonyswifee, @mxg111, @daydreamandforget
60 notes · View notes
kitkatkl · 6 months ago
Text
Yessss
Unravel Me
Tumblr media
Pairing: Remus Lupin x F! Reader
Genre: Soulmate AU (Reincarnation) Series, Angst, Hurt/ Comfort, Fluff, Slow burn
Summary: Remus Lupin never believed he had a soulmate—until one accidental touch shatters his carefully built walls. The wolf inside him has always known, but Remus refuses to accept that fate could be so cruel as to tie her to him. Haunted by longing and fear, he tries to run, but she is relentless—warmth slipping through the cracks, undoing him piece by piece. As desire wars with self-doubt, Remus must decide: fight fate or surrender to the one thing he’s always denied himself.
Prev. // Next
Word Count: 3752
Chapter Three: An Olive Branch
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
By the time Remus made his way back to the Gryffindor common room it was well past curfew. There were a few perks that came with being a prefect. One of them being that when professors saw him past curfew, sans usual troublesome company, they tended to do little more than offer a passing nod. 
It wasn’t that they didn’t suspect anything. He was, after all, best mates with James Potter and Sirius Black. But Remus had a reputation for being the responsible one, the voice of reason, the one who reeled them in when they took things too far. There was also the added detail that the faculty knew about his situation and often let the young lycanthrope meander in all his gloomy glory. 
Remus should have known what would be awaiting him when he entered the common room. It was mostly empty, save for a few straggling  students and one black dog sprawled across the couch nearest to the fireplace.
Sirius. 
Of course the mutt would be waiting for him. 
Sirius, for as brash as he could be, was loyal to a fault.  It was something Remus had learned early on—before he even understood why someone like Sirius Black had latched onto him of all people in any way other than a dorm mate. Before he realized that once Sirius considered you his, there was no shaking him, no escaping his unwavering devotion.
Which meant that no matter how much of an arse he had been earlier, no matter how much he had pushed and prodded, Sirius was still here. Waiting. Because that’s what he did.
Remus sighed, rubbing a hand down his face and took the space beside Padfoot, moving the dogs hind legs haphazardly to make space. The dog’s eyes tracked him, but did nothing else.
Sirius tended to do this after an argument, regardless of who it was with or what it was about. It was easier than trying to voice the things he meant to say instead—things that got stuck in his throat, swallowed by years of conditioning, by scars left over from being born a Black. It was difficult to say sorry when no one had ever offered it before, like trying to learn something second-hand when everyone else was already fluent in it. 
For as upset or irritated Remus had been when he left, he understood. If he had the option to hide away then Remus would do the same. 
Remus sank down into the well-worn cushion, keeping his gaze on the fireplace. He rubbed at his temples and let out a sigh as he muttered, “Alright, how long are we going to keep this up for?”
Padfoot gave a huffing noise in response. James was the dog whisperer, able to decipher all of Sirius’ dog-isims with an ease that was entertaining at best and creepy at worst. Remus did not have that skill. 
He kept his voice low, not wanting to be overheard talking to the mystery dog of Gryffindor tower. The general consensus among the student body was that the massive black dog often seen lurking around at least one of the Marauders was James’ dog.
It was a ridiculous assumption, really. But James—ever the performer—had leaned into the narrative with a theatrical flourish, claiming it just couldn’t bear not being by his side during the school year. Half true, but there was also the added fact that the  dog also had to graduate or face what would surely be a ticked off Mrs. Potter.
Which meant that, to most of Gryffindor, Remus was currently sitting beside James’ dog, holding a whispered conversation like a complete lunatic. Lucky for him the common room was emptying out, so no one would witness Loony Lupin at it again. 
He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Right, well, since you’re clearly not shifting back anytime soon, I’m just going to assume you’re feeling guilty and don’t know how to say it.”
Padfoot huffed in return, and if a dog could roll its eyes, Remus was sure he just had. 
“Best we hash it out now, though,” Remus continued, voice low and even.
If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t be so keen to confront this so quickly—would let it fester, let it settle into something quiet and unspoken, something that could be buried beneath time and avoidance. Sirius and Remus were both masters at that, in their own right. Sirius was all laughs and humor, covering up anything unpleasant with a charming glamour. Remus’ approach was different, but just as avoidant. He would simply… pretend it didn’t happen. 
But he and Sirius… they had a history of conflict.
Maybe not conflict resolution, exactly, but conflict? Plenty.
And history had taught them both that if they didn’t face it now, it would only end in something far worse—an explosion neither of them had the patience or energy for.
Padfoot stayed still, ears flicking slightly, watching him with an unreadable expression.
Remus exhaled sharply. “Look, I know what you were doing back there.” His fingers tapped idly against the arm of the chair. “And I know you thought it was funny, and maybe it was—to you.”
Padfoot let out a low whuff that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.
Remus shot him a look. “But it wasn’t to me.” His voice was quieter now, steady but firm. “So if you’ve got something to say, say it. Because if you plan on continuing to pull sh—”
Before he could finish, Padfoot huffed again—then, with an exaggerated stretch, shifted. 
The look on Sirius’ face wasn’t what he was expecting. It was apologetic or arrogant, it was carefully neutral. 
That, more than anything, put Remus on edge.
Because Sirius was never neutral. For him to be measured like this—to sit there, expression unreadable—meant that whatever he was about to say had been thought through.
Which was rare. And, frankly, a bit terrifying.
Remus swallowed, forcing himself to hold Sirius’ gaze. “Alright,” he said slowly. “Go on then.”
Sirius exhaled, rolling his shoulders slightly before speaking.
“You know,” he started, voice softer than usual, “for someone as smart as you are, you can be really thick sometimes.”
Sirius continued before Remus had the chance to respond, “The only reason I invited her was for you, you dolt. And I’m near certain the only reason she agreed was for much the same reason. She seemed completely uninterested in me until the moment you came up.”
Remus’ stomach twisted, but Sirius didn’t give him time to dwell on it.
“Look,” Sirius leveled him with a stare that made him want to be anywhere else, “if you don’t do something, someone else surely will.”
And then, quieter, more serious than Remus had ever heard him, he added, “And they’ll mean it, too.”
The weight of those words settled over him, heavy and inescapable.
Because that was the thing, wasn’t it?
Sirius was playing—pushing buttons, forcing him to react—but someone else? Someone who didn’t know what she was to him, what she could be?
They wouldn’t just be stirring the pot.
They’d be taking her from him.
Remus knew that Sirius was right, as annoying as that was to admit to himself. That familiar ache, the one he had felt earlier, the one that had settled into his ribs like a phantom pain—it was back. The echo of loss, something old and lingering, something left over from times before.
Because this wasn’t new.
He had felt it before, in ways he couldn’t explain, in lives he couldn’t remember. The unbearable weight of something just out of reach, something that had been his once—only to slip away before he ever had the chance to hold it.
He wondered, not for the first time that day, what their story had been.
In another life, in another time, had they met under different circumstances? Had it been easy, effortless, without the weight of secrets and hesitation pressing between them?
Had he fought for her then, or had he been just as much of a coward as he was now?
Had she left him? Had she been taken from him? Had he watched her walk away, powerless to stop it, just as he felt now? 
Remus was pulled from his thoughts before he could spiral further, “You owe it to yourself, Moons, to see where it could go. And, if not for you then,  for her. Girls got it bad.” 
That sent a jolt through him, something too warm, too dangerous. He swallowed, trying to suppress the way his heart jumped at the idea.
“She does not,” he muttered, even he didn’t sound convinced.
Sirius only raised a brow. “Sure, mate. As the one who actually spoke to her,” low blow but Remus would let it pass, “I’d be willing to put money on it.”
All Remus could do was look away as he felt his cheeks begin to warm. It was silly, really, the way even the idea that she felt even half of what he refused to acknowledge fully made his heart race. Made something inside him—something deep and impossible to ignore—hope.
Hope was a dangerous thing. It was sharp-edged, deceptively fragile—something that, if held too tightly, had the ability to sever what little remained of his resolve.
Remus had spent years keeping hope at arm’s length, refusing to let it take root where it could one day betray him. Because hope led to wanting, and wanting led to disappointment, and disappointment… disappointment was a pain he was far too familiar with.
And yet—
Sitting here, with Sirius’ words still echoing in his mind, with the thought that maybe—just maybe—she felt even a fraction of what he did…
He felt it.
He felt it in the way she held his gaze and refused to be the first one to let it go. In the way she was patient—patient enough to let him fester, to let him wrestle with himself, to let him come to terms with just how wrong he had been about so much of his life.
She hadn’t pushed. Hadn’t demanded answers, hadn’t called him a coward, hadn’t forced him to acknowledge the thing sitting heavy between them.
He swallowed hard, willing the feeling away, but Sirius had already seen it.
And judging by the shit-eating grin now plastered across his face, he wasn’t going to let it go anytime soon.
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
He felt like hell. All he managed was maybe two hours of sleep last night—and that was being generous—and his body was paying for it now. His limbs felt heavy, his head dull with exhaustion.
It wasn’t just the lack of sleep. It was the thinking. The endless loop of thoughts that had kept him tossing and turning, the restless ache that had settled in his chest and refused to leave. 
The wolf sensed her before he did, which was becoming par for the course as of late. It was almost comical the way it stood at attention when she was near. The way it listened for her, keenly aware of where she was in the room even if Remus refused to look. 
He had made the choice last night, somewhere between the restless tossing and turning, when sleep refused to find him; he would stop avoiding her.
It didn’t mean he’d talk to her. Didn’t mean he’d seek her out, or initiate anything, or do anything that could remotely resemble admitting the way she affected him. 
It wasn’t much, James would argue that it was nothing, but it was something. Because for Remus, not running was a choice. A deliberate, difficult choice. It went against everything he had trained himself to do, against every instinct that told him distance was safer, that wanting was dangerous.
Just standing still—letting himself exist in the same space as her without fleeing—was the hardest thing he had done in a long time. 
In class, one of the few where they sat near each other, he had taken his usual seat instead of the one he had switched to after they returned to classes after their incident. Before he had started avoiding her. Before he had let fear dictate his every move.
And now, without a word, without acknowledgment, he had simply sat down.
He didn’t look at her, didn’t let himself check for a reaction, but he didn’t have to. He felt it—her surprise. 
And for the first time in weeks, the wolf in him was silent, still. Satisfied, for now, with simply being in her presence again. 
They didn’t sit directly next to each other, but they were only separated by two people, who tended to arrive just before class started. It meant he was here. That he had stopped running, at least for now. He hoped it would show her that he was trying. 
He got there early, like he usually did, and so did she. It used to be part of an unspoken routine—one they had never acknowledged, never put into words, but had simply fallen into over time.
A quiet, shared habit.
One that he had broken at the height of his avoidance.
But now, here they were again. The way she moved was… stiffer once she saw him. Hesitant enough for Remus to notice, but he figured he’d notice if she decided to try a different perfume. Was that weird? Felt a little weird, but it was true. 
The classroom was nearly empty, the usual pre-lesson hush settling in, and for the first time in weeks, they existed in the same space without him immediately searching for an escape route.
He didn’t look at her. Not yet.
But he could feel her there.
And judging by the shift in the air between them, she had noticed, too.
“I don’t have to go,” she broke the silence. Her voice soft and low. It made his heart race. 
“Sorry?” he replied dumbly. He chanced a glance at her then, only to find that she wasn’t looking at him. Instead she was fishing for something in her book bag, her expression unreadable, her movements casual—too casual.
“Hogsmeade,” she had replied simply. “I don’t have to go if it’ll make you uncomfortable.”
Remus stilled.
For a moment, he wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly. The words hung between them, deceptively light, but their weight settled deep in his chest.
She was giving him a choice.
Not pushing, not demanding an answer—just offering him a way out. A kindness he didn’t deserve.
Because she shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t be thinking about him, about how he felt, about whether or not his comfort was worth missing something she had every right to enjoy.
But she was.
And it made his already racing heart stutter.
That treacherous part of his mind wished she would look at him. Selfish in its need to have her eyes on him, “You can… do whatever you want.” 
The words might’ve felt dismissive, he was aiming for dismissive, but it didn’t quite land. There was something else there, woven between the syllables. Like he wasn’t just telling her she could do whatever she wanted in regards to the outing, but in general. Like he was telling her whatever she decided, whatever she chose to do would be okay. 
This was the first time they’d spoken since that night, and he thought it should feel different. It was as awkward as he thought it would be, yes, but also easy. Like he didn’t have to think too hard about his words before he spoke them, like they spilled from him as an offering to her. He knew then that he would answer any question she asked him if only to just continue to hear her voice. What a dangerous thing. He would divulge every secret he’d ever had, every thought he let remain unsaid if she asked him to. 
One of the students who sat between them arrived then, sliding into their usual seat and effectively cutting off their conversation.
Remus exhaled, glancing down at his hands as if he had meant for the moment to end there. As if he hadn’t been caught up in the unexpected ease of it all.
She didn’t say anything else, and neither did he.
But something about the interaction lingered, hanging in the air between them like a thread left untied.
And for the first time in weeks, Remus didn’t feel the immediate urge to run.
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
As Remus continued his day he thought about her, not that it was surprising in any means. She took up much of his headspace lately. Now, though, he had a whole new interaction to pick apart and stew over:
The way she had spoken to him—soft, deliberate, as if he were a cornered animal who might spook if she made any sudden movement. The fact that she not  only noticed his avoidance, but that she had acknowledged it in the quietest, most careful way possible. That she had given him an out—and that he hadn’t taken it.
The way it had felt so natural to talk to her again. Like slipping into something familiar, something he had missed more than he had allowed himself to realize.
What bothered him though, was her refusal to look at him. Just yesterday she had held his gaze so boldly and what? Suddenly she was avoiding him? The shift unsettled him in a way he couldn’t quite place. Had she changed her mind? Decided he wasn’t worth the trouble after all? Or was she simply giving him space, waiting, again, for him to figure himself out?
It couldn’t be the former because… it just couldn’t be. Remus couldn’t explain it, but he felt as if he would know if that were the case. There was something unspoken between them—something that had lingered even in the silence, in the spaces between words. A thread that tied them together, no matter how much distance he had tried to put between them. If she had changed her mind, if she had decided he wasn’t worth the trouble, he would have felt it. But he didn’t.
So, it meant the latter. It meant that she was giving him grace, the opportunity to figure his shit out while giving him the space to do that. Giving him a pass to take if he wanted it. 
She was offering him an olive branch.  
That made his chest ache in a way he wasn’t prepared for. Because she shouldn’t be this patient with him. She shouldn’t wait for him, shouldn’t let him fumble his way through his own fears and hesitations like this.
But she was.
And now, the real question was—was he going to take the out she had so carefully left for him?
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
“You are quite possibly the silliest man I’ve ever met, to ever exist really,” she said in a tone that said the opposite. She sat on a chair at a table, in a home that was hers… theirs. He kneeled before her, looking up at her as if she was the center of all things created. She was. Her gentle hands cupped his face like he was something to be treasured. 
She was glorious, in the way that made men paint or carve marble in hopes that they could capture her beauty for the rest of time. So that people thousands of years later may look upon it and wonder if such beauty was even real.  In the way that could make men go to war, or make them do whatever they could to return from it. She surely had to be one of the muses, there was nothing else that made sense to him. 
He laughed, something rich and not his own, at least not what it was now, “You think my love for you is silly? What a cruel thing to say to a man, my light.  I am bearing my soul to you and you say such callous things to me.”
She laughs softly, the sound Apollo himself wished he could recreate. They stayed in that silence for a moment, a respite from all they had been through in the past few hours. He rubs soothing patterns where his hands rest on her hip, knowing that beneath the strength she shows there is worry laying in wait. He could see it in the way she holds his face, as if attempting to burn it into her memory more than it already is. 
“I don’t want you to go,” whispered in hopes that the gods would not hear, so that they did not know the depth of her devotion to one man ran deeper than her worship of them. “Just… you must return to me, please. I cannot… I do not want to be here if you are not in it. 
“Oh, meli,” love is etched into each syllable of the endearment. “I would follow you into hades, do you think there is anything that could keep me from you? In this life, in the next, and for as long as Gaia remains I shall always return to you.” 
“What if you don’t,” she lets her tears fall freely and he feels his heart ache. 
“I will.”
“And if you don’t?”
“Then I will find you again. Always.”
“Swear it,” she removes a hand to wipe at her tears and he misses her warmth terribly. 
“I do,” he says without hesitation. And he knows that he means it, even if he wasn’t sure how or why. All he knew was that the woman before him was the other half of him, made separate by Zues but that didn’t stop them from reuniting. If the king of gods could not keep them separated, then neither could death or time. “I am tied to you, my light. Wherever you are, no matter the distance or circumstance I shall always search for you, I will always return to you.”
The Greeks were not known for their happy endings, and so seemed fitting that they had not gotten theirs. He did not return to her, lost in a battle fought for greed or power or something that did not matter. His dying breath and the last thoughts to float through his mind were of her. Of her smile. Of her wit. Of the way she made the world brighter because she had graced it with her existence. His light. His love. His reason.
A cosmic thread formed or found for the first time, a promise made. 
Unravel Me Masterlist
Taglist: @a1ienmush, @boromoony, @kitkatkl, @moonyswifee, @mxg111
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kitkatkl · 6 months ago
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Unravel Me
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Pairing: Remus Lupin x F! Reader
Genre: Soulmate AU (Reincarnation) Series, Angst, Hurt/ Comfort, Fluff, Slow burn
Summary: Remus Lupin never believed he had a soulmate—until one accidental touch shatters his carefully built walls. The wolf inside him has always known, but Remus refuses to accept that fate could be so cruel as to tie her to him. Haunted by longing and fear, he tries to run, but she is relentless—warmth slipping through the cracks, undoing him piece by piece. As desire wars with self-doubt, Remus must decide: fight fate or surrender to the one thing he’s always denied himself.
Word Count: 3616
Chapter One: "There You Are"
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Of course, Remus believed in soulmates. It would be a little silly not to. He turned into a monster once a month—what was a cosmic thread tying two souls together compared to that? He didn’t believe he had one, though. Soulmates were for people who were whole, untouched by the kind of jagged, cruel things that shaped him.
He had come to terms with it a long time ago, accepted that whatever force decided these things would overlook him. He wasn't bitter about it, not really. It was just the way things were. Some people were made to belong to someone else, and some people were made to be alone.
Remus just so happened to be the latter.
And truly, it was a mercy. A soulmate was meant to be a safe place, a harbor against the storm—but he was the storm, wasn’t he? Unpredictable, dangerous, leaving destruction in his wake whether he meant to or not. What kind of love could he offer when his own hands were stained with the wreckage of his worst nights?
No, fate had been kind to him, in its own cruel way. If he had a soulmate, he would have only ruined them.
Sometimes—though he’d take the secret to his grave—he let himself wonder.
When he lay in bed, aching and raw, skin too tight over bruised ribs, exhaustion pressing down on him like a second skin, the thought crept in. It was easy to ignore in the daylight, easy to pretend he didn’t care. But in the dead of night, when sleep wouldn’t come and the silence was too loud, he wondered.
What would it be like to have someone who stayed? Someone who didn’t turn away when the worst of him bled through the cracks? Someone who saw him—every jagged, broken piece—and chose to love him anyway?
It was a dangerous thought. Hope was a sharp thing, and he had learned not to hold it too tightly. But sometimes, in the quiet, when the world wasn’t watching, he let himself imagine.
He imagined it was soft, having a soulmate.
Not grand or earth-shattering, not some cosmic force pulling him into something too big to hold—but something quiet. Gentle. A steady presence beside him when the world felt too cruel, a hand reaching for his own without hesitation. He imagined warmth, the kind that seeped into his bones, the kind that didn’t ask him to be anything more than what he was.
Maybe it was the feeling of fingers carding through his hair after a full moon, or a voice murmuring his name like it was something worth saying. Maybe it was laughter that never carried a sharp edge, or the certainty of someone choosing him, again and again, without question.
He would never know for sure. But in the dark, when the ache in his chest became too much to bear, he imagined. And for a little while, that was enough.
If he lingered on it long enough, allowed himself to indulge in a dream—a wish that would never come—he could almost convince himself that it was real.
Like if he reached out just far enough, he might find a hand waiting for his. Like if he closed his eyes and listened closely, he might hear a voice murmuring his name, steady and sure. Some part of his soul, trampled by years of unfair fates and broken bones, seemed to remember what it was like. As if, once upon a time, before the world had carved him into something sharp and weary, he had been loved that deeply.
It was a cruel trick of the mind, an echo of something he had never truly known. But still, on the loneliest nights, he let himself believe. Even if only for a moment.
James, ever the optimist, always reasoned that the time would come. That fate, or the universe, or whatever force governed things like soulmates, wouldn’t be so cruel as to overlook Remus forever.
Remus never had the heart to crush those dreams outright. It was easier to let James believe—to let him fill the spaces Remus refused to touch with his relentless hope. James was the very definition of a romantic, the kind of person who believed in grand gestures and inevitable love stories, in fated meetings and unshakable bonds. He spoke about soulmates like they were a promise, a certainty written into the fabric of the world.
But Remus knew better. Some people weren’t meant for things like that. Some people weren’t made for fate’s kindness. And no matter how much James insisted otherwise, Remus had long accepted that he was one of them.
James had found his match early on, so of course, he thought his friends’ time would come. It simply had to.
The universe wasn’t that cruel—surely, after everything, after the wreckage life had already thrown at them, there had to be some kind of balance. Some kind of reconciliation. James needed to believe that. That the people he loved, the people who had already endured more than their fair share of suffering, would find something good waiting for them in the end.
He was relentless in that belief, stubborn in the way only James Potter could be. And Remus—tired, pragmatic, painfully realistic Remus—never had the heart to argue. Because James had found his person, and love had never failed him. Of course he thought it was only a matter of time before the rest of them did too.
But Remus knew better. Some debts didn’t get repaid. Some people weren’t waiting for fate to even the score. Some people just lost. And there was no bigger loser to fate’s games than Remus.
The wolf, however, seemed to have different plans.
The beast that lurked beneath his skin—the thing that threatened to consume him, body and soul—was motivated by something far less rational, far more primal. Baser instincts. It didn’t care for logic, for caution, for the careful walls Remus had spent years constructing around himself.
No, the wolf recognized something in her. It prowled beneath his skin, restless and sharp, clawing at the edges of his control. It was aware in a way that made Remus uneasy, in a way that made his pulse stutter. Because the wolf had no patience for restraint. It only knew hunger, only understood desire in its rawest, most undeniable form.
And for some reason, she had its full attention. At first, Remus reasoned that it was because it was her.
He’d be surprised if there was anyone at Hogwarts who didn’t fancy her. She was beautiful—achingly so, in a way that made a person hesitate, just to make sure she was real. But it wasn’t just that. Beauty alone wasn’t enough to make the wolf stir, to make it watch.
No, it was the way she carried herself. The way kindness seemed to spill from her effortlessly, like it wasn’t something she had to think about, like it was stitched into her very being. She was warm in a way that made people gravitate toward her, like she belonged in the light, untouched by the kind of shadows that followed him everywhere he went.
That had to be it. Just admiration, just the simple fact that she was someone anyone would be drawn to. Her kindness and her light were real, not like his own that he was half-convinced he only mustered so people didn’t look too intently at him
And yet, the wolf growled its disagreement.
It all came to a head a few months short of graduation.
After years of the wolf willing Remus to go to her, to speak to her, to just reach out—he had resisted. Again and again, stubborn in his self-imposed exile. He told himself it was for the best. That she was better off without the weight of him pressing against her light. That whatever force had made the wolf restless in her presence had nothing to do with fate and everything to do with his own weakness.
He didn’t want to bother her. Didn’t want to risk dragging her into the mess of him, into the chaos of a life that had never been kind. He thought he could ignore it. That he could pretend the pull wasn’t there.
But then something happened—something inevitable, something inescapable. And just like that, all those years of careful distance unraveled in an instant.
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
James threw a party—because of course he did—while his parents were away visiting an aunt. The Potter house was the perfect place for it, sprawling and full of hidden corners, big enough to fit half of Hogwarts without feeling crowded.
Remus hadn’t expected to stay long. He rarely did at these things. He’d nurse a drink, make sure Sirius didn’t end up dancing on the furniture again, and then slip away before the night got too messy.
He certainly hadn’t expected to see her.
But there she was, standing in the warm glow of the lanterns, laughing at something someone had said, completely at ease. And just like that, every carefully built wall he had put between them felt paper-thin. He let himself admire her for a while. Sue him. She was bloody gorgeous, and he was just a man—one with eyes, with a heart that apparently had no interest in listening to logic, and with a wolf inside him that was absolutely howling at the sight of her. Before he knew it, she was moving, weaving through the crowd—probably on her way to get another drink. 
It all happened too fast, a series of events straight out of one of those god-awful romcoms Sirius claimed to watch ‘for a laugh’. One second, she was walking, the next, someone barreled past her, too caught up in their own drunken stumble to notice. She wobbled, just slightly, thrown off balance—and before Remus could think, before he could talk himself out of it, his hand shot out to steady her.
Warmth. That was the first thing he noticed. The solid, unmistakable warmth of her beneath his touch. His fingers curled gently around her arm, grounding, protective. The wolf in him stilled for the first time in years, maybe ever, humming in quiet satisfaction at the contact.
“Careful,” he said, voice quieter than he meant for it to be.
And then she looked up at him—eyes wide, startled, meeting his in a way that made something in his chest lurch.
They had spoken before—fleeting, brief, inconsequential moments exchanged in passing. A polite nod in the library, a shared glance in the Great Hall, the occasional murmured thanks when she passed him a quill in class. But they had never touched. Never had a reason to.
But now that they had…
It was like watching lifetimes pass through in seconds. A body that wasn’t his, a body that wasn’t hers—two souls recognizing what their bodies never had the chance to. Revering in finally being reunited after passing by each other for years. 
A rush of something ancient and undeniable flooding through him, so sudden and overwhelming that he almost pulled away on instinct. As if some part of him—something buried deep beneath logic, beneath restraint, beneath years of quiet denial—had woken up and was screaming at him all at once.
You sodding idiot, she’s been here the whole time!
The wolf knew it. Had known it long before Remus ever allowed himself to entertain the thought. And now, with the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips, with her eyes locked onto his like she felt it too—there was no ignoring it anymore
“Thank you,” her voice was soft, barely more than a murmur, and Remus shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the music pounding through the walls. But somehow, he did. As if the universe had tuned out the rest of the world just for this moment, just for her.
And suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not the party, not the sea of bodies swaying around them, not even the fact that this was the kind of moment he always scoffed at—some ridiculous, overdone cliché lifted straight from a bad romance novel.
He had thought himself above this sort of thing. He wasn’t James, falling headfirst into love like it was the easiest thing in the world. He wasn’t Sirius, chasing passion wherever he could find it. He was Remus. Practical. Careful. Distant.
And yet, here he was. Holding her like he’d been waiting his whole life to.
It took a moment for Remus to find his voice, and even longer for him to force his fingers to loosen, to remove his hold on her when every instinct in him screamed don’t.
“Uh—no problem, really, you should just… are you alright?” he asked, the words stumbling out, awkward and uncertain.
The second he broke contact, the wolf howled mournfully inside him. A deep, aching protest, as if they had been separated by miles—by oceans—instead of mere inches. As if letting go of her was some kind of terrible mistake, some fundamental wrong that his very bones rebelled against.
Remus clenched his fists at his sides, grounding himself in the familiar routine of restraint. He told himself it was nothing. A fleeting moment, a trick of the mind, an overreaction born from years of loneliness and wishful thinking.
But the wolf knew better. And no matter how hard Remus tried to ignore it, he did too.
Soulmates were a tricky thing. Rare, but not unheard of. A soul destined for another, woven together by whatever force governed such things—be it magic, fate, or something even older than either.
The ways of finding them differed, varying from person to person. Some were subtle, quiet revelations, like puzzle pieces clicking into place after years of searching. Others were dramatic, impossible to ignore—names appearing on skin, first words burning into memory, an invisible string tugging two people toward each other no matter how far they strayed.
Many of these signs were well-known, familiar enough to be the basis of a hundred Muggle romances, dismissed as fiction by those who had never felt them firsthand. But those who had—those who knew—understood that there was truth in the stories. That when it happened, there was no mistaking it.
And for the first time in his life, Remus felt the creeping, undeniable suspicion that he had been terribly, terribly mistaken about his own fate.
Because the way she looked at him—with eyes his soul recognized, perhaps not the same color or shape, but known all the same—meant something.
Meant everything.
And so, as Remus was known to do, the moment even the smallest shred of light came near his darkened soul—he ran.
He didn’t wait for her answer. Didn’t wait to see if she was actually alright, if she had noticed the way his fingers had lingered just a second too long, if she had felt it too. He just bolted.
It wasn’t graceful, wasn’t subtle. One second he was standing there, heart pounding in his chest like it was trying to break free, and the next he was pushing past the crowd, ducking into the nearest empty corridor like a coward.
Because that was the truth of it, wasn’t it? He was a coward.
The wolf raged at him, furious and unrelenting, snarling its protest at the distance he had forced between them. But Remus ignored it. He knew better. Knew that whatever cruel trick fate was playing on him, whatever this was—it wasn’t meant for him.
He had spent his whole life keeping people safe from himself. He wasn’t about to stop now.
And if it were true—if fate had been so cruel as to tie a girl like that to someone like him—then… then he would just catch her in the next life.
Maybe then, in a different time, in a different body, he wouldn’t be something fractured, something ruined before he even had the chance to be whole. Maybe then, he wouldn’t have to fight the instinct to reach for her, wouldn’t have to run just to keep her safe and he could simply let himself be. Let himself be envelope in the warmth he knew he would find if one touch had sent him into a spiral.
But in this life, in this body, in this moment—he knew better.
So, he ignored the concerned looks from his friends—looks he hadn’t even noticed at first, too caught up in his own internal war.
James, brows furrowed in confusion, already halfway to asking what the hell had just happened. Sirius, arms crossed, watching him like he knew—like he had already pieced together the thing Remus refused to name. Even Peter, usually oblivious to anything that wasn’t explicitly spelled out, had stopped mid-sip of his drink, eyes darting between Remus and where she still stood.
They had seen everything. The way he had reached for her. The way he had lingered. And now, the way he was running.
But he couldn’t deal with that right now. Couldn’t stomach whatever knowing remark Sirius had locked and loaded, couldn’t bear James’ infuriating optimism or Peter’s half-hearted attempts to lighten the mood.
So he clenched his jaw, shoved his hands into his pockets, and kept walking.
And when the wolf howled inside his chest, mourning something it had barely even had, he willed it to shut up.
It had no right to wail mournfully for her, it was the reason Remus needed to put distance between him and the one good thing the universe had ever offered him. 
The wolf had no claim to sorrow, not when it was the very thing that made him unworthy. It was the reason he couldn't have soft things, couldn't hold onto warmth without the fear of ruining it. It was why he had to keep running, why he had to push her away before she got too close, before she looked at him the way he wanted her to and made him believe—for even a second—that he could have this.
So he gritted his teeth, ignored the hollow ache in his chest, and walked faster.
The wolf could mourn all it wanted. It changed nothing.
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
The wolf got its recompense during the next full moon.
Transformations were always difficult—all the years in the world wouldn’t make them easy—but they were routine. An ache, a pain, a suffering he had long since come to terms with. Something he expected.
But this? This was different.
He had woken up in the shack, his body a war zone of torn flesh and bruises, deeper wounds than usual carving their way across his skin. James did his best to keep his face carefully neutral, though his eyes betrayed him. There was worry in them. And something else, something more hesitant—because James knew too. Maybe not the full truth, but enough.
He didn’t remember anything from that night—he never did—but from what he was told, it had been awful.
James had been the one to say it first, carefully casual, as if trying not to spook him. “You weren’t yourself last night, mate.”
As if he ever was.
Sirius was less delicate about it. “You were feral, Moons. More than usual. Wouldn’t settle. Didn’t recognize us at first. Even when you did, you didn’t care.”
That part made his stomach turn. The wolf had always known them, its pack, the ones it would die to protect. But something had changed. Something had snapped.
It was Peter’s quiet, nervous voice that sealed it. “You kept trying to go back.”
And just like that, he knew.
The wolf had spent the night hunting for her.
He felt sick.
The self inflicted gashes were further proof. Once the beast realized there was no escaping, no bypassing the Willow or the dog or the stag, no finding her—it turned its frustrations on the only one it could.
Remus.
Sirius was uncharacteristically silent, his usual post-moon quips nowhere to be found. Peter wouldn’t even meet his gaze.
That was the worst part.
Because they had seen. They had watched as the wolf raged, as it clawed and tore at itself, furious and desperate, driven by something beyond even its own primal instincts.
It hadn’t just wanted freedom.
It had wanted her.
And the worst part?
Remus wasn’t entirely sure that next time, he’d be able to stop it.
The group made their way back in relative silence.
James walked beside him, close enough that their arms nearly brushed, like he was waiting for Remus to stumble. He appreciated it. He knew every bone in James’ body wanted to help him, but he gave Remus the dignity of not giving it unless expressly asked. James didn’t say anything—not yet—but the way he kept sneaking glances at him, brow furrowed in concern, spoke volumes.
Sirius trailed a few steps behind, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his usual swagger absent. It wasn’t like him to hold his tongue, especially after a rough moon, but there was something calculating in his silence. Like he was waiting for the right moment to poke. To say something Remus didn’t want to hear.
Peter kept the farthest distance, his shoulders tense, gaze flickering between them, like he wasn’t sure if it was safe to speak.
And Remus?
He just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. On ignoring the sting of fresh wounds, the lingering echoes of something wrong settling deep into his bones.
He should have felt relief that the night was over. That the wolf had been contained. That nothing irreversible had happened.
But all he could think about was her and how he had a sinking feeling that this was only the beginning.
Unravel Me Masterlist
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kitkatkl · 7 months ago
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please PLEASE learn how to tag your fanfics. Don’t tag fluff when it’s angst, don’t tag smut when it’s fluff and please don’t tag characters that ARENT EVEN MENTIONED IN THE FIC!!!!
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kitkatkl · 7 months ago
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me for the past week and i'm so fucking maddd
STOP👏TAGGING👏XREADER👏IF👏YOU👏USE👏AN👏OC👏NOBODY👏 FUCKING👏ASKED👏FOR👏THAT👏OKAY???
The wrong thing is not the fact that you write a story with an oc, no, that's not the real problem, really.
IT'S JUST THE FACT THAT YOU USE THE WRONG TAG SO YOU HOPE MORE PEOPLE READ YOUR STORY. BUT BELIEVE ME IT'S JUST FUCKING ANNOYING 'CAUSE WE AREN'T ABLE TO FIND THE RIGHT FICS IF YOU KEEP DOING THIS!!!
There are people who like to read more stories with ocs than reader inserts, so use the fucking right tag go reach that community and stop spamming your stories among ours.
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I don't think you get it but, you know, the purpose of fanfics with reader insert is to make the reader imagine her/himself as the mc of the story. The best part of these fics is the fact that EVERYONE can be included in them.
SO WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO RUIN THEM BY MAKING THE MC A PERSON THAT LOOKS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM THE READER AND EVEN HAS A NAME THAT IS NOT THEIRS?
Not to be dramatic but i hate y'all.
And the fact that it's always the same fandoms and we all know who we're talking about...
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kitkatkl · 2 years ago
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Hold on, I need to restock on tissues 🤧
A snake and his little bird
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Regulus Black x fem! sunshine! reader (gn! version)
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Summary: Y/n has been keeping her relationship with a certain Black brother secret, but when James starts investigating why she's always stealing the map she's in hot water
Warnings: swearing, some angst, hurt comfort established relationships (reader x regulus, wolfstar), kissing, mentions of food, eating, sex, toxic family and abuse
A/n: 4.1k words, reader is in regulus' year but is a marauder and like them a Gryffindor x thank you for the request! Enjoy 💛
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Navigation | Marauders Era Characters Masterlist
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You doodled in the margin of your parchment, mostly little drawings representing you and your friends animagus forms. A stag for James, a dog sitting in a crescent moon for Sirius and Remus and a rat laying a top of a cheese block for Peter
You were just adding detail to the wings of your own form when a little bit of paper landed in front of you. Looking up at the professor you saw he was still droning on about some kind of charm, merlin did you hope Flitwick would be back soon because this guy sucked 
Although one silver lining was with him not paying attention you could unfold the paper, smiling as you instantly recognised the impeccable handwriting
You look pretty today
Glancing to your right you see Regulus sitting with Barty at the other end of the classroom, Barty seems to be busy trying to do what seems like origami while Regulus is already subtly looking at you
You scrawl on the paper holding it up, you say that every day, you bite your lip
His lips tug gently, an act most would miss but not you. He writes on his own parchment, because it’s true, and in my defence I said cute yesterday, he holds it up briefly, long enough for only you to read and not even Barty notices, although the boy wouldn’t really mind anyway, just give your boyfriend a good teasing for it
He revels in your reaction, that smile that you always wore just that little bit brighter when he was around, he gives you a little nod before returning to watch Barty and you go back to your drawings  
Around 10 minutes pass and you were just beginning to sketch the constellation Regulus lies in when a little flower lands on your desk
Picking it up you unfold the little flap that says, open me, doing as it says you smile at the words, still on for our date little bird?
You look over, noticing Barty’s flowers are terrible compared to this one and you nod ‘Just need to grab the map first’ you mouth to him and he nods
Soon enough class was over and as you walked out Regulus gently brushed his hands with yours, whispering a soft ‘see you at your spot’. You watched him walk off with Barty, Evan and Pandora with the biggest smile, your relationship wasn’t exactly secret, his friends knew, and Lily knew being the one to cover for you in your dorm, but really you kept your relationship on the down low so your fellow marauders wouldn’t find out
You were two years younger than the boys but being Remus’ childhood friend, you were pretty much welcomed in the moment you got on the train in first year. In their fifth and your third they became animagus with you doing the same the following year…and yes it took entire year of you, James, Sirius and Peter begging for Remus to finally cave and let you do it too. Earning the nickname ‘chirp’ when you succeeded, not only from your form but because you were always upbeat and happy
Of course, they hated Slytherins, well, James and Sirius did with a passion while Peter and Remus were just wary of them. You didn’t mind them, sure there were Slytherins you wanted to punch and in fact had done as such back in second year, but most were actually pretty nice when the Lastrange’s of the world weren’t watching
“Prongs!” you call out as you see him passing, waving to him from afar
His head scoots up at the call, looking around until he spots you. A grin grows on his face, turning back to say goodbye to Marlene before jogging up to you
“Hey haven’t seen you all day” he throws his arm around you, pulling you roughly into him and making you giggle 
“Nice to see you too”
“So, what did you just escape from?” he asks, his arm more relaxed as you both walk aimlessly down the corridor
“Charms” you inform, leaning your head into him
You were closest with Remus but after he and Sirius began dating, you and James bonded more whilst they were being all couple-y. Peter was there too but he usually changed into a rat and went a nap in order to escape their pda. Which was something James couldn’t inconspicuously do, although, you and he did manage to convinced everyone you were his pet bird for a month last year…and may have helped him cheat just a bit on some tests and steal a bunch of stuff from the class storerooms
“Godric with the substitute?” you nod “How did you survive?” he wonders rather dramatically “No but really, how? Teach me your ways dear birdy” he uncouples himself and bows before you
“You’re silly” 
“I know” he takes it like a compliment as he should, returning to his previous position
“I just doodled and listened pans as she explained her latest experiment” 
He nods “Fair enough, although…” you keep your smile but you know that although “…just watch out with Pandora, she’s a little weird and that’s fine but she’s friendly with Slytherins alright?” he says it softly, like he’s trying to protect you
You give him a little nod “Sure thing Prongs” you say, not wishing to ruin the moment nor your chances of why you sought him out “Say” you stop walking “You mind if I borrow the map for a couple hours?” you ask sweetly
He nods right away, moving to get it out of his satchel “Hear ya go” he hands it over with a smile
“Thanks Prongs” you slip it into your own bag “I need to go but I’ll see you later in the common room?”
“Yeah see you then” he gives you a wink and smile, waiting until you walk off before it drops and he digs into his bag again to retrieve a certain cloak
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James felt guilty following you, so much he almost turned back as well. Almost. He just had a funny feeling you were keeping something from him and the others, he didn’t think that something was necessarily a bad something, more he was just curious as to why you needed the map so often. 
Along the way he saw you stop at a window, checking your hair and putting on some lip balm. That’s when he smirked, you were seeing someone
He and the boys were protective, they’d defend you till the say they died but they weren’t so protective they would stop any person from seeing you. Still he knew why you might keep it a secret, Remus and Sirius kept theirs quiet for quite a while as did Alice and Frank, even if everyone and their grandmother could see it coming
“Back of the library, classy” he chuckles as he follows little ways back, this area was known for secret liaisons, yet he as he followed he ended up in an area he’d never been before, which wasn’t uncommon for him since you and Remus did the schematics for it
He watched you place your books on the table, satchel hanging over the back of the chair along with your robe, looking like it was any other study session until…
“Saucy” he notes, watching as someone wraps their arms around you from behind, kissing your neck
He was about to retreat and give you some privacy but then he registers the green tie as you turned around. Pushing his glasses up he grimaced at the scene, watching you get pressed against the bookshelves by a snake of all people…and not just any snake
“Pads is gonna flip…fuck” he curses, shaking his head and quickly walking out of the library, debating all the way back of what to do with this new-found information
It was a shame he left so early, completely misinterpreting the scene as a hook-up rather than what it truly was, two people who were more than a little in love with one another meeting for their bi-weekly study date
“Sorry lovely” Regulus apologies, his thumb trailing over your now plump lips 
You shake your head lightly, not wanting to disrupt his movements “You never have to be sorry for kissing me” you can’t stop the smile from spreading on your face, not when he’s shining down at you like this 
He pecks your smile “Still” his arms gently peel you off the bookshelf, one slithering around to rub the impact mark “Didn’t mean to give you a possible bruise…in more than one area” he nudges his nose into your neck
You sigh at the small circles on your back “It’s okay, doesn’t hurt so don’t worry your pretty little head” his cheeks raise, a dusting of pink coating them at you calling him pretty
This was the Regulus few got to see, the mushy one who was a complete softy for you, his Gryffindor birdy. The one that could make him flustered beyond compare with a single word, touch or glance
“You okay there gorgeous?” you tease him just a little and he licks his lips
“Stop” he says holding back the biggest smile 
He encourages you over to sit at the table, trying to compose himself but it’s hard when your around
“Or what beautiful?” you smirk
You watch as he quickly shrugs off his robes and cardigan, dragging the chair around so he can sit beside you before he pulls you down into the adjacent seat, his movements soft while his voice is firm
“Or I’ll do more than press you against the bookshelf” he warns, hand squeezing your upper thigh before sliding down towards the knee and resting it there
You let out a little gasp at his actions, remaining quiet as you open one of the books before whispering a soft “Handsome”
He chuckles, that small bit of firmness he held fading “You swallow a thesaurus?” he wonders kissing your cheek
“No” you shy away with a pouty smile playing on your lips
“How many more do you have because you better get them out now or we’ll never get through Slughorn's essay” his hand wraps further into your inner thigh, thumbs gently sweeping across the thin fabric of your tights
“Cute, stunning, charming…” you say quickly,
“Done?” he asks sweetly, the tint in on his face darkening
“Exquisite” you kiss his cheek “Magnificent” then one to his nose causing it to scrunch oh so cutely “Wonderful” you finish with a peck to the lips “Now I’m done” you grin turning back to the books and leaving him positively flustered
“Maybe over the course of two hours would have been better” he admits and when you glance back his cheeks are crimson “Merlin you make me soft” he lets out a little laugh 
“How soft?” you ask, positively beaming at him and his state
“Like the blankets we take the astronomy tower had a baby with a cloud and…I mean…okay I really don’t know where I was going with that but you get the idea” he covers his face as you both start giggling, leaning into you as you laugh together
“You’re adorable” you add and he pretends like he got a dagger to the heart
“You can’t surprise attack me with that you cruel women…I’m a puddle now”
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You really were a ray of sunshine when you returned to the common room, that was until you were greeted with no one but your friends sitting around the couches, looking like they were plotting for war
“Who pissed us off this time?” you giggle, dropping your bag off your shoulder and letting it drag as you reach the couches
They didn’t laugh. Remus and Peter looked nervous, the former rubbing Sirius’ back in a soothing motion, something he only had to do when his boyfriend was beyond upset. Your eyes flicked to James, he didn’t look as angry as Sirius but more disappointed, and somehow that was worst 
A pit started forming in your stomach
“Where were you?” Sirius asks, voice cold
“The library” you try to keep your smile, hoping maybe they’ve just had a bad day
“With?” he says shorty, pressing his lips together to spot himself saying more
“Why does this feel like an interrogation?” you swallow hard, heart thumping in your chest hoping to merlin this wasn’t happening, that maybe you fell asleep during study or this was some weird prank
Sirius sits forward “Maybe it wouldn’t if you weren’t off fucking my little brother?” he comes right out with it
You froze, feeling like all life left your body as they stare you down, the judgement in his voice, the disappointment, the rage
“I…I wasn’t” you try to speak, to explain, but James just huffs a laugh
“I saw you, y/n” that was the moment you knew they may never forgive you, he used your real name “That why you’ve been asking the map multiple times a week since we started back? Off to your little corner in the library to get pressed up against it” he accuses
You felt your face warm at the knowledge he had seen you and then the guilt spread across your face 
“Are you going to keep lying to us?” 
Sirius stares you down to the point Remus sits back, an unreadable expression on his face as he knows he can’t prevent whatever his boyfriend will say
“I’m not lying” you insist “If you had just waited…” James cuts you off
“Waited to see you fuck a snake? Ugh no thank you” he almost sings the last bit with a look of disgust 
“My brother of all people” Sirius cuts in, his voice demanding “Why…just why?”
“I love him” you answer honestly as lies wouldn’t save you, besides you were done pretending
Their expressions freeze 
Peter and Remus looking taken aback and in thought, clearly processing, James just skips everything and goes straight to an almost sympathetic disgust, and Sirius just goes straight to angry, standing up and pointing
“No” he shakes his head “You don’t” he tells you “You don’t” he repeats harder
You felt tears prick your eyes but you hold it, trying to stay strong. You were the happy one, no one had ever seen you really cry and if they did it was usually due to pain
“But I do” you say weakly but there’s a firmness to it which makes Sirius look at you with pity
His hands grip your shoulders “I grew up with him so you listen to me when I say he is incapable of love. He’s a miserable sod, a grumpy bitter guy that cannot and does not love you” he slows down so the last words sink in
You shake your head “You’re wrong…you’re…you’re wrong” you manage to get out, voice breaking and it makes the boys wince
“I’m not, I wish I was but I’m not. You can’t see him anymore, he’s just using you to get to me. He doesn’t love you y/n, you mean nothing to…”
“Stop it!” you shout, pushing him away
They flinch at your tone “Y/n” Sirius tries to reach out but you step backwards
“No!” you let the tears fall not caring anymore “I love him and he loves me. You are all just too caught up in your own ideals and hate of Slytherins to notice how good a person he is”
“He’s a purist!” James exclaims “He called Lily a mudblood in his first year”
“Yeah James in first year! When he was 11 and scared, scared because guess who was also in that corridor? Malfoy, a 6ft platinum giant with a cane up his arse that won’t quit. Merlin of course he did because what was the alternative?”
“Not doing that! I didn’t stoop that low at his age” Sirius crosses his arms
“Yeah because you gotta come back here…” you gesture to the common room “...and be praised for it. Bet it be fucking different if you had to go down the dungeons like him, sleep a mere few rooms down from someone 6 years older that would have no remorse in beating you up for it”
“You’re being silly” Sirius says, clearly not wanting to listen because if he did then he would be the bad guy here, he knew the guilt that would come from it “You’re trying to justify it because you know he’s no good”
You scrunch up your face, so disappointed in your friends “Maybe you’re no good” is all you say taking the map out of your bag and shoving it into Sirius’ chest before walking quickly up to your dorm, ignoring all of their calls
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The next morning the boys headed down for breakfast, with James and Sirius facing the Slytherin table, eyes fixed on Regulus as he chatted with Barty and Evan. He hadn’t noticed the stares, nor did he know you were currently in a little ball in bed crying and would be for most of the coming days.
James was half watching while Sirius gaze was fixated on his brother, trying to figure out what his endgame was with you. His eyes only tore away when Lily and Alice entered the great hall without you
Regulus noticed too, his normal little glance to see his girlfriend’s smile was now a sad stare at the girls, a stare Sirius noticed but choice to pass off as confusion instead of clear mild concern
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You had managed to drag yourself into the shower today, now wearing the charmed jumper Regulus gifted you that smelt like him, already sniffling and ready to read the saddest, most depressing book in your collection
That was until there was a noise from your window, followed by its opening and your boyfriend tumbling in, hitting the floor with a thump
“Are you okay?” you crawl to the end of the bed
“Yeah yeah I’m fine” he says groaning and definitely not okay by his wincing as he clampers over to the bed, kneeling on the ground in front of you “Are you okay?” he asks a little breathless “I’m sorry for barging quite literally in but it’s been days” 
Your heart flutters and breaks all at once, how could the people you love not see this adorable puppy dog of a man in front of you that literally almost broke all his bones flying up and into your window to check you were okay
“They know” you start to tear up again “They know Reggie” 
His eyebrows knit before the realisation hits, his face morphing to fear briefly before he stands and moves to sit on the bed next to you, engulfing you in his arms
“We’ll be fine” he assures you both “No matter what”
Your hands clutch to his robes, not caring that he is freezing from the cold morning air “I know” you nod into his chest
He gently pulls your face back, cupping it as he wipes the tears “And you know I love you right?” his own eyes are glassy, both of you knowing that things were gonna be a little bit harder from now on but you wouldn’t let them win 
“I love you too” you return it softly
He gives you a small smile before leaning in to kiss you, lips salty from your tears but neither of you care. Unfortunately, the moment is cut short when your door opens, banging against the wall as it does and making you jump apart
Regulus’ face hardens, turning off the emotions switch he had developed in order to survive
“Hands off her” Sirius points at his brother
“Love��� Remus tries to pull him back, the only one seeing the scene for what it was
Sirius shrugs out of his grip “No” he stares you and Regulus down “You are going to leave and never see her again, I’m not going to let you use one of my best friends to get back at me”
“Like hell I am” Regulus wraps his arm around you, feeling you nuzzle your head into his chest, fresh tears soaking through his shirt 
“Regulus” 
“Sirius” he returns his brother's angered tone threefold “I am not leaving when she’s upset. If anyone should leave it’s you, you made her cry” 
Remus, James and Peters expressions soften at that but Sirius doesn’t let up 
“I’m not leaving until you leave”
“Fine then I guess you better get comfy” his other arm comes around, cupping the back of your head in a soothing motion before he whispers reassurances to you
“I’m…” Sirius stops himself as he watches his brothers’ actions “…Why?” is all he can say
Regulus holds you close, peering up at his brother “Why what?” he knew what he was asking, he just didn’t know how to answer it just yet
“Why her? Of all people Regulus why one of my best friends” 
“You can’t control who you fall in love with” he says, looking down at you
You raise your head, letting him plant a kiss you’re your forehead before you burying yourself back into his embrace
“You can’t love” Sirius shakes his head, tears forming “You can’t because you never loved me…you never showed any emotion after I left for Hogwarts” 
Everyone’s heart broke, the cracks in his voice, Remus having to take James’ hand to stop himself from hugging his partner while Peter rubs his back
“I do love you” Regulus’ hard expression finally breaks “I never stopped”
“Why didn’t you come with me then? When I cried, poured my heart out while I was still bleeding…you closed the door in my face” 
Regulus winces at that, you don’t have to see him to know. You kiss his chest, hugging him tighter as you knew how much he hated himself for that, how much he wanted to go back…how he had also packed a bag but by that time Sirius had already left and it was too late
“I wanted to, I was just scared” he confesses “When you got sorted into Gryffindor mum and dad were so mad they spent every waking moment conditioning me to…” he makes little bunny ears with his fingers “…not make the same mistake you did”
Sirius moves to sit at the end of your bed, signalling the other boys can stay when they attempt to back out
“They hurt me too when I asked why it was a bad thing, eventually after talking with Evan he told me that the best thing to do is to pretend. Have a switch you can turn off and just feel nothing…and for a while I did that, to the point I was just existing” 
He caresses your hair before looking back at his brother
“Then one day I was in the library and y/n came along, sitting next to me like it was nothing” he lets out a small chuckle “Talking my ear off about some kind of plant and how it was so cool…”
“It was cool” you mutter earning small chuckles from the room, James and Peter moving to sit on the bed next to yours while Remus sits behind Sirius, placing a kiss to his shoulder
“Sorry what I meant was she was telling me about this super awesome…ouch love” he groans as you pinch him “Anyway” he turns back to his brother who is watching him curiously, a lips tugging upwards as he observed yours and his interactions “After a few weeks I finally spoke back, realising she wasn’t a…ploy from you” he winces “She helped me. That switch that had been stuck off was finally on again when she’s nearby” 
You shift away from his chest, still leaning on his shoulder but you could see your friends again
He looks down at you “She helped my live again, smile again” he says, doing just that “I love her and I love you. I never meant to hurt you Siri” he turns back to his brother, seeing the surprise yet comfort the old nickname from their youth brought as it slips out
“I never wanted to hurt you either” he nods, blinking the tears from his eyes “I love you too Reg”
“Fucks sake hug!” James says sniffling with Peter tissues in their hands “Please you're killing us” he waves for them to embrace, this tissue causing him to resemble one of those mothers from period books
You and Remus giggle, moving away from your significant others to the middle of the bed. You intertwined your hand with his while he wrapped his other around you, both watching as the brothers hug for the first time in 7 years
“We always joked about being siblings but in a few years that might actually be true” Remus whispers to you
“We always were overachievers” you whisper back, giggling together while James seems to cry harder…and they call Remus the mum of the group
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Thank you for reading 💛
General Masterlist
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kitkatkl · 4 years ago
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I'm so investeddddd omgggggh so gooodddd. And Regulus over here being a big ol baby and stuff and I'm like, "we were finally getting somewhere with you expressing yourself and then you're like oh um uhhh" I cannot wait for the next partttt
‘Falling’ - Regulus Black x Original Female Character (Part 7)
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Description: Sometimes the most unexpected friendships become the ones that mean the most. This was true for Lilia Arianwen Llewellyn and Regulus Black. A pureblood Slytherin from a noble family and a half-blood Gryffindor who’s wizard father fell for a muggle. After maintaining a secret friendship from their third year which began to fade at the end of their fifth year, the pairs return to Hogwarts for their penultimate year will change their lives forever.
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of jealousy, the lightest lightest smutty make out ever (16+ as nothing graphic at all and basically just a make out)
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