#folklore x hp is always everything

[junhaoshua]

my ode to fandom

2020, the start of a new decade, is ending. 2021, the start of my adulthood, is beginning. I’ve always wanted to do a post about my fandom journey, and I’ve also decided to change my url starting next year: from the old faithful @moonlightmasquerade to a url for my new fandom, @junhaoshua. So before taking such a huge step, this felt like a perfect time to thank all the media that has shaped me as a person throughout my journey of youth.

This is half-chronological, half-remembered. This isn't comprehensive, because it doesn't have to be to be meaningful. It can't list every single fandom that has made its mark on me, because there are too many to count. 

This is about many people’s stories, including my own. This is about love and power and growing up and changing. This is about how transformative work can transform lives. 

To fandom: this is my ode to you.

To Frozen, the fandom that was my first love: thank you for being the place I discovered fanfic. Thank you for teaching me that it was okay to be myself. For teaching me that my parents could make mistakes when raising me even though they love me. For showing me that villains can be redeemed. 

To MLP, the fandom of my early teens and beyond: thank you for being such a big part of my life. Fallout Equestria, making me realise the impact of war and giving me hope that people can heal from the worst, that we can make a difference in the darkness. The Immortal Game, telling me that trauma can be overcome and my fate is in my hands. Hard Reset, teaching me to persevere despite the odds. Turnabout Storm, introducing me to the franchise that would inspire my future career. Freeport Venture, guiding me as I grew into my own person. These are lessons that kept me going throughout the rough years. Thank you for teaching me to write magic systems and epic fight scenes. Thank you for giving me hope that one day, even a shy bookworm like me would find my friends. 

To Wicked, the fandom of my tumultuous years: thank you for teaching me that I could be beautiful and loved no matter how I look. For opening my eyes to the cowardice of people. For helping me to understand why injustice can thrive. For telling me that sometimes you lose your best friend but you don't stop loving them. Thank you for preparing me to face all this in real life. 

To Star Wars, the fandom I was “born” into: thank you for creating a world that inspires writers. For the trilogies and the beautiful fics that were born from them. For the flaws in canon that made fans want to fix them, and write wonderful stories. Double Agent Vader and the questions of agency and power and justice and the need for righteous indignation. Reylo fics and redemption and atonement and forgiveness. The sequel trilogy stories, too many to count, about finding your family and being your own person and healing from trauma.

To Marvel, the fandom that has brought me comfort for years: thank you for starting a franchise that lasted me throughout my childhood. For the stories of X-Men and being ostracised for being born different. For the ideas of Avengers Tower and the Defenders and Spider-verses and other teams, which may not have been well handled in canon, but which inspired so many stories about dangerous people coming together and being accepted for who they are. For Daredevil and making me decide that yes I’m going to be a lawyer and no my disability will not stop me. 

To DC, the fandom I grew up in: thank you for the DCAU that I spent hours watching as a child. Thank you for inspiring so many amazing, creative people to write. Batfamily fics and the stories of well-meaning Dad Bruce who screws up despite his best efforts. Babs Gordon and being a total badass from her wheelchair. bricklaying and its discussion of power and class issues and trauma and identity, a story that I go back to time and time again. 

To Hamilton, the fandom that inspired me: thank you for introducing me to the wonderful genre of rap and hip-hop. For helping me to realise that there are villains, there are people who make mistakes, and there are people who exploit others’ mistakes. For awakening a fire and ambition in me that I had long tried to douse to try to fit in and be more likable, and telling me it was okay to be young scrappy and hungry. And for reminding me that the people I love are important, too.

And now, to the grand prizes, to the fandoms that have been the biggest part of my life.

To Harry Potter, the fandom I first participated in: thank you for opening my mind and broadening my horizons. For helping me to move past my conservative upbringing and my prejudices (the thanks is all to the fandom, not to canon). For helping me to find my first fandom family, my best friends @reapersbarge and @a-symphony-in-vellichor. For being full of stories about healing just when I needed it. For Dramione, a ship that would lead to me publishing my very first fanfiction, inspired by the wonderful @colubrina. For Drarry and my second fic that gave me the chance to tell a story with my best friend and the other half of my brain. Without HP, without these friends, I would never have found the courage or inspiration to finally finish and publish my stories.

To Six of Crows, the fandom I grew in: thank you for being my first experience with representation in stories. For opening my eyes to the world of YA novels and so many wonderful, amazing stories. (SoC was literally one of the first YA novels I ever read and I wouldn’t have gotten into bookblr without it). For helping me learn how to work with an ensemble cast of characters that all got a chance to shine. For inspiring me to come back from my long writing hiatus and rediscover the joy of being an author. 

To Taylor Swift and Marina, my two favourite solo artists: thank you for music that perfectly fits whatever I’m going through. Thank you for reputation and Electra Heart when I was hurt and angry and trying to build a shield to hide my scars. Thank you for Lover and Froot when I was trying to learn to be happy again, to conceal my hurt with a smile. Thank you for folklore and evermore and Love + Fear when I was finally ready to unbandage my scars and confront everything that I had faced and declare that it did not break me.

To Seventeen, my biggest current fandom: thank you for bringing me joy during this tough year. For always giving me something to look forward to every Monday when the days passed in a blur. For the new friends I’ve met here who welcomed me to caratblr, especially @soonhoonsol, @thekidultlife, @haosvteen, @myunqho, @xuseokgyu and @haoranghae. For reminding me what it feels like to fall deeply into a new fandom for the first time. For the amazing fics and gifs that always bless my dash (there may be another, separate post on that). For awakening my desire to write fic again after a long drought where I couldn’t think of a single thing, and giving me more plot bunnies than I know what to do with. Thank you for being a safe space that helped me to grow and heal and smile again.

To conclude this story:

Throughout my journey, I’ve seen the same threads and themes over and over again. To be my own person and not the person that others moulded me into. To be ambitious and hungry and the hero of my own story. To find my own family, to choose the people I claim as my own. To see injustice and apathy and evil and hopelessness, and to be angry and stand up against it. To believe that people can change, can atone for what they’ve done, can be redeemed. To believe in the power of hope and light against the darkness. 

Fandom is a part of my life that I truly can’t imagine being without. It has been the lifebuoy when I was stuck in trauma and unable to escape. The bandage when I was broken and bleeding and despondent. The glue to put me back together when I shattered into a million sharp-edged pieces. The armor when all I wanted to do was rip out my feelings and put up stone walls around myself. The candle that guided me through the night until I was ready to step into the daylight. 

For the fandoms of my past: I may have become less active, less involved, but I still return to the songs and stories that have been an integral part of my youth. I see them now with older, wiser eyes, and recognise bits and pieces of my personality that I absorbed from them. I’ve never truly left a fandom; how can you leave something when it’s part of you?

For the fandoms of my present: I want to live in the moment and enjoy my experiences for as long as I can, even if I’ll outgrow them one day. I know that even if I move on from them one day, I’ll always treasure the lessons learnt and the memories made, and they’ll have a special place in my heart no matter what.

I believe in the power of stories, of movies, of music, of fandom. I would not be who I am today without it. Every fandom I’ve been in has left an impression on who I am, made its mark on me, a golden tattoo. I can look at them and trace the way each and every one has shaped me into the person I am today. 

And as I hover in the in-between of childhood and adulthood, as I stand now a kidult, I’ll embark on this new phase of life with all the lessons that fandom has taught me, and will continue to teach me for many years to come.

[wearesorcerer]

[5e] 9th-Level Spells

You may be wondering why I’m starting my review of 5e spells with the highest level spells available. That’s simple: you only get one.

The 5e Sorcerer table isn’t quite like the 3.x one, but it is like the 3.5 Warlock and Psion: at any given level, you can known X spells and have Y spell level as your maximum. The table is elegant, but you have to know to level your character from first level rather than reading the table straight across if you’re making a higher level character. (I’ve made this mistake many a time. It’s why I dislike this sort of table: it looks nice but isn’t actually helpful.)

If you’re trying to have as many spells of the highest available spell level as possible, you would have from 0th to 9th 6/3/2/2/2/2/1/1/1/1. I find it easier to work backwards in this case, as you can say “I want to reserve X spells known for higher-level spells” and then figure out how many low-level ones you can have instead of getting to a higher level and running into a corner.

The question with 9th-level spells is not “what’s good?” because they’re all good. Rather, it’s “what’s worth taking as my single most powerful class feature?” That should narrow things down a lot.

Primary List

gate · mass polymorph · meteor swarm · power word kill · psychic scream · time stop · wish

I’ve written about wish and time stop ZA WARUDO! (time crunchy noises), but not in the context of 5e. Wish has changed substantially; time stop hasn’t. You have a few options, but the majority of them are boom-boom.

Gate: you can hold open an interplanar portal for as long as you concentrate (up to a minute) at the cost of a 5,000 gp diamond; if you know the name of a specific creature, you can use the spell to summon that creature. For some odd reason, gate is both the most Warlock spell in the game besides planar binding, yet is only a Warlock spell through a UA variant. For a Sorcerer, this could be useful, but you’re making your best spell cost you money every time you cast it. Strategically speaking, this spell is situational enough (read: a Wizard spell) that if you wanted it in the first place you should take it with the Ritual Caster feat, but for some reason this most obviously ritualistic spell isn’t a ritual. There are better uses for your spell known, but this is by no means a bad spell. Save for a scroll or something.

Mass Polymorph: you polymorph (Wis negates) up to ten creatures you can see within 120 ft. for as long as you concentrate (up to one hour), just like with polymorph. It incorporates animal shapes into it. If you want animal shapes, you should find a way of getting it instead: you don’t need a 9th-level spell slot for it (so can cast it more often -- 8th + 9th level spell slots), it lasts for 24 hours, and you can affect more creatures (30 ft. area = radius = 96 squares - the one you’re in = 95 Medium creatures [more if they’re smaller and squeezing together]). I don’t care for the concentration aspect of the 5e polymorph spells. I mean, I get the rationale, I just find it odd for this particular spell -- and I’d rather not give my opponent a tactical reason to target me. Pass.

Meteor Swarm: four fireballs fall from the sky and each deal 20d6 fire + 20d6 bludgeoning (Dex half; average 140 damage), setting everything they touch ablaze. Beautiful. I love meteor-style spells, so this is high on my list even though it’s a boom-boom spell and I’m not particularly boom-boom oriented. The best part of this is that it has a range of one mile, so you can destroy enemy armies without risking getting killed! Yay! Yes.

Power Word Kill: one creature within 60 ft. of 100 HP or less drops dead (no save). 100 HP is more than the average of many high-level characters, so unless the DM gave a boss max HP you can use this to kill even major opponents reliably. An optimizer will tell you that a spell without a save is something you should always take -- and would be correct insofar as it makes you more difficult to stop. I, however, dislike that mechanic: there’s almost no reason a spell shouldn’t have a save. This one should have the choice of Wis (resisting the mental influence) and Con (staying alive despite the heart attack/stroke/whatever). A very good spell, but I’d call it OP.

Psychic Scream: 10 creatures of Int 3+ within 90 ft. take 14d6 psychic damage and are stunned (Int half [damage]/negates [stunning]); their heads explode if they die. The beauty of this one is that it goes off of Int rather than Wis (meaning Wizards are the only targets you really need to worry about) and it automatically avoids friendly fire. Yes.

Time Stop ZA WARUDO!: you get 1d4 + 1 rounds to act, but the spell ends if anything you do (including effects you create) affect other creatures or objects someone else is wearing or carrying or you move more than 1,000 ft. from where you cast the spell. The main purpose of this spell is to buff yourself a lot, run the fuck away, or stack delayed blast fireballs to deal a buttload of damage. That’s all very nice, but it’s a continuation of the 3.0 nerf to the spell: in 2nd ed, you could pull a DIO and attack people or an Over the Hedge and steal things. Now for my main quibble. 3.5′s Player’s Handbook II had the celerity line of spells, which you could cast as an immediate action (choice of reaction or bonus action). Each one dazed (incapacitated) you afterward, but gave you an extra move (lesser), action (no prefix), or round (greater) to do with as you pleased. I’m willing to guess that there are similar spells in 5e. In 3.5, there were ways of becoming immune to dazing; maybe there’s a 5e-compatible build for that. Either way, as a 9th-level spell, I should get to throw knives at people to my heart’s content before dropping heavy objects (like steam road rollers) on them. Good, but I’m going to go to my grave complaining about the restrictions.

Wish: you can do practically anything, but you have a one in three chance of losing your ability to cast your highest-level spell. IT’S A TRAP!

For very personal reasons, I’m torn between meteor swarm and time stop, but psychic scream is also up there. I think power word kill is unfair, but I cannot say that it’s a bad spell. I don’t like mass polymorph, but I think that’s more me not liking how 5e deals with durations. Wish is too big of a risk for a Sorcerer: you have the chance of losing the most powerful class feature you get and have nothing else that can compensate for that loss (unlike a Wizard); it’s better as a scroll. Gate really should be a ritual, but it isn’t, and it’s expensive, so it really depends on how badly you need to move lots and lots of creatures or summon forth an Elder God.

Divine Soul (Cleric) List

astral projection · gate · mass heal · true resurrection

I’ve already covered gate, thankfully.

Astral Projection: exactly what it says on the tin for you and eight willing creatures. I have never understood why this spell is so high-level. Mechanically, it’s riskier and more expensive than casting plane shift, which is two levels lower. Thematically, it’s a mass version of an effect which in folklore is almost always caster-only, which makes no sense, and it’s at max-level when this is fairly standard practice for shaman and shaman-like figures. (Heck, that’s what a bunch of the associated drug culture is about!) Maybe someone can explain to me why you would want to use this spell. Pass.

Mass Heal: heal 700 HP divided as you choose among any number of creatures (except constructs and undead) you can see within 60 ft.; also cures them of all diseases, blindness, and deafness. On the one hand, this seems like a great spell with a raid or during a cataclysm. On the other, you can accomplish everything this does with lower-level spells. Pretty good, but maybe hold out for...

True Resurrection: a creature you touch (or whose name you speak) is restored to life and perfect health (no wounds, no missing limbs, cured of all diseases and poisons, freed from any curses), even if there are no remains, provided the creature has been dead for no longer than 200 years and is free/willing to return. PICK THIS ONE!

Variant List (UA)

Foresight: for eight hours, a creature you touch can’t be surprised, gets advantage on most d20 checks, and causes all creatures attacking it to roll with disadvantage. This is better than the 3.5 version, which was already very good. Yes, this. Very.

Really Cool Spells It’d Be Great to Take If You Could

Or me lamenting about the limitations of the Sorcerer list

imprisonment · invulnerability · power word heal · prismatic wall · ravenous void · shapechange · storm of vengeance · time ravage · true polymorph · weird

Imprisonment: you know any of those fairy tale/folklore/mythology spells that trap someone for, like, ever? This is it. (Combines the spell of the same name, maze, and binding from 3.5.) You’ve got options if you want to seal someone away -- and it lasts until you say otherwise. Sure, it’d be nice if it were a ritual, but it ain’t; you just gotta take a minute to cast it (and throw in 500 gp. of material per HD of the target).

Invulnerability: you are immune to damage for up to 10 minutes (at the cost of “a piece of adamantine” [in D&D, that’s closer to depleted uranium than it is to diamond] of 500+ gp.). Maybe you don’t like the cost for a spell of that level, but hey, invulnerability.

Power Word Heal: target (non-construct, non-undead) regains all HP; has the charmed, frightened, paralyzed, and stunned conditions removed; and can stand up as a reaction if prone. This is a Bard spell, but it’s on the Cleric and Druid variant lists, so probably is an option for Divine Souls. I can see it being handy, but you’d think mass heal would be a better choice.

Prismatic Wall: you conjure up a rainbow wall/sphere (as prismatic spray) that’s a bitch to get rid of. You want an abjuration? This is it.

Ravenous Void: a miniature black hole that needs some errata (how many spaces do creatures and objects getting sucked in move each round?). It’s ludicrously awesome, though.

Shapechange: other than true polymorph, this is what you want out of polymorphing magic.

Storm of Vengeance: let’s say you want all of the boom-boom of meteor swarm but are more meteorologically focused. Here’s your answer. You end up dealing an average of 49 damage (of three elemental types and bludgeoning) to each creature below a storm cloud (360 ft. radius) you conjure within sight. There’s an arbitrary distance beneath the cloud included, as it doesn’t say how far up the cloud has to be.

Time Ravage: you decrepify someone with timey-wimey magic -- but it’s somehow necromancy!

True Polymorph: you can transform almost anything into almost anything else. The limits on this spell are basically to keep you from thinking you’re a literal god and overall I’d think this would work better in a skill-based magic system, but nonetheless it’s quite clearly the best polymorphing spell in the game.

Weird: this is mass phantasmal killer. It’s directly comparable to psychic scream -- Illusion rather than Enchantment, fear rather than stunning, and more potential targets in a smaller burst instead of headsplosions.

[thegirlwholied]

ten faves

Rules: name ten favorite characters from ten different things (tv, movies, books, etc.). 

Thanks for tagging me @bibliophileiz ; exactly the sort of distraction I both needed (and that my current concentration-level is capable of) at the moment! Hard choices ~ especially as many of my favorites come in pairs! ~ but my top ten today...

...after draft error #97 or so, sorry in advance for the scroll, and for anyone else who winds up responding, do not draft on your phone take my word for it... 

Princess Bride: Inigo Montoya

Which character don't I love in Princess Bride? Even Humperdink is such a pitch-perfect villain. But while I'd choose Westley if I was picking a date... Inigo's the one who captures me, every time. It's not the desire for revenge itself that's compelling; it's the love for his father - the heartbreak, the dedication, even the defeat and the rise again (the "you told me to go back to the beginning scene" comes to mind as one that stays with me and is probably a huge influence on things I think of but haven't really written yet...)

Harry Potter: Sirius Black

Yes, that's a gif of Midnight Mark from Pirate Radio, because I very much mean the book version (sorry, Gary Oldman!). Is anyone following me surprised by this one?

I'm so fascinated by all of the Marauder era characters, both as they are on the page and the hinted-at aspects of them explored in fandom; love Lily/James... but Sirius is the Harry Potter character I think of first (honorable mention to non-HP Edmond Dantès, as I love Count of Monte Cristo and think much of Sirius' plotline owes that a clear debt). Aside from being a tragedy, aside from all his great lines, what a *fascinating* character and twist, in a way, on the fairy godmother plot in his first book 3 appearance (getting Harry the Firebolt, his permission slip, etc). I could say SO much more but will avoid writing an essay.

Smallville/Superman comics/adaptations: Lois Lane

Always a favorite character for me, but Erica Durance in Smallville is my favorite version. I feel like they gave her a bit of Marian Ravenwood (specifically in the outdrinking the frat boys scene) and leaned into the modern comics "army brat" angle so well.

Anne of Green Gables: Anne Shirley.

With honorable mentions to of course Jo March, other fellow aspiring writer Emily of New Moon, and Pippi Longstocking, other fun redhead of my childhood reading... Anne, and all her drama and dreams and mishaps, wins out as most relatable for me. Book heroine of my heart.

Speaking of childhood book heroines...

Star Wars: Jaina Solo.

Look, this is partly to save me between picking a favorite between Leia and Han (a dilemma which has haunted me since childhood, in part because, guiltily, it's Han), and serious honorable mentions to Mara Jade and especially Jyn Erso here... but Jaina was *everything* I wanted in a heroine as a girl. We're talking about the Young Jedi Knights series here... though I actually started with Junior Jedi Knights featuring Anakin Solo (oh Anakin Solo 💙💔)... going into the New Jedi Order, as I stopped following the EU so passionately around there.

Jaina, who is brash and so her father's daughter but has a harder time seeing she's also her mother's, the Rogue Squadron pilot, the wielder of a purple lightsaber, the mechanic... my inner little girl will never quite forgive the sequels for failing to give me a Solo daughter (sorry, Rey; I still think Daisey Ridley was pitch-perfect Jaina Solo casting... and honestly part of me considers the sequels the "weirdest Jacen & Jaina fan fiction ever" 🤷🏻‍♀️)

BtVS (out of the whole Whedonverse really): Buffy

My other favorites in the show are really also doubles/foils for Buffy: Cordelia Chase & Faith. But the first episode of the show I ever saw was "Anne" and so I've always known I would watch an entire show with just Buffy (... I would also watch an entire show of her friends dealing with her absence, but that's more about *plot* than character). I love the concept alone of Buffy's character - overturning the blonde damsel in distress trope by making her what monsters fear - but I mostly just love her; favorite Chosen One ever. “No weapons, no friends, no hope. Take all that away, and what's left?"/"Me."

...and now it gets very hard, where my early choices were more instinctive and now I keep thinking of others and can't decide. Tempted to make a bracket (I feel like Sirius and Inigo have some crossover, but how could I put them against each other)?

But ("if you had to choose, if you had to choose") to get at some of my other favorite character types and embodiments thereof...

2010-me would never believe I'm going to say this, but: Jaime Lannister.

I'm usually not a villain girl... but of course, he isn't a villain, though he starts out cast in that light. Slightly annoyed I’m picking Game of Thrones (yes, even grouping the books in that, as post Storm of Swords, I remember thinking "this could really benefit from the tightening the show will likely give it" ahahahahahahaha whoops). And yet. Where did that "came for the Starks; stayed for the Lannisters" quote come from? I feel very attacked by it.

"The things I do for love". The boy who wanted to be Arthur Dayne and somewhere along the way became the Smiling Knight. The reveal that he's not (or at least so much MORE than) who he seemed : perhaps not the comparison you'd expect but ah yes that Mr. Darcy twist always does it for me. So much character development (let's not speak of how the show ended, but still). 

The motives, in particular:  I love the Spike backstory reveal in Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s Fool for Love, and in many ways I think Spike and Jaime hit the same note for me. He’s definitely a character that stays with me. Also, he hits that "golden boy" type I also like but in a *very* interesting way (and oh no now mentioning golden boy is making me think of Aron and Cal in East of Eden, I don't have room to even consider them on this list but know I love them both...)

Speaking of golden boys (also I cannot believe this is the only character from a musical I'm choosing, and Eponine’s a character that haunts me too, but...)

Enjolras.

Michael Maguire is not a golden Enjolras but was my introduction to the character and still a (the?) favorite. Love both book & musical Enjolras in different ways. But inspiring idealists with the light of rebellion abalaze in their eyes...? Facing death & despair still waving the flag? Ah yes. Top ten, 10/10.

Favorite detective out of all mysteries really, but especially from the Nancy Drew & Hardy Boys Super Mysteries: Nancy Drew.

An icon. Why is it so hard to have a good Nancy Drew adaptation? (The new TV series lost me with going with actual ghosts - I love my supernatural shows, but I don't need that with Nancy Drew.) Detective characters tend to be some of my favorites; honorable mention to Shawn Spencer from Psych here, but I was reminded in watching that recently (as Maggie Lawson, Jules on Psych, had once played Nancy Drew in a Disney movie! ... that I need to find and rewatch as I remember almost nothing about it) a) how much I love a good mystery and b) that Nancy is the OG.

Speaking of icons... out of all the folklore & mythology I love, it’s clear what character I love best: Robin Hood.

Oh, I love my Arthurian knights, but I love all Robin Hoods more. Trickster heroes, rob-from-the-rich-and-give-to-the-poor-justice, true love... cheeky 1952-movie Robin Hood is my favorite - both favorite Robin and favorite Marian, and their childhood-friends-to-lovers romance is the epitome of that trope for me! - but I also love the fox version...and am very alarmed at the prospect of a CGI remake of that; I'm sorry but that is not live action... and also Errol Flynn! It has to be Robin. If this was a ranked list (it’s not) he’d probably take #1. 

My ten slots won out to other characters, but also I love every Tamora Pierce character and if I had to pick one, it would be Daine Sarrasri, YA fantasy heroine out of all magical girls (and yes over the lady knights; sorry Alanna and Kel; Daine had wolves for friends). Also shout out that I love a LOT of characters named Marian, aside the already-mentioned Maid Marian -- Marian Ravenwood (& Indy!), Marian ‘the Librarian’ Paroo (& Harold Hill!), X-Men’s Rogue (usually named Anna Marie when a name’s revealed, but a Marian in at least one version, & her own thief Gambit)... to quote Thin Man, “You got types?”

I’ve got types. 

If you’re reading this and have types yourself, please @ me them! But tagging, if you’d like, @conniecorleone​ @aliform​ @aurorawest​ @vivacephoenix @justkeeponthegrass

[queenofnohr]

FGO Material III - Ryougi Shiki (Saber) Profile

Another commission! Thanks so much for the support!

*If anyone is interested in commissioning me, here’s my regular commission page, and here’s my chart for Chapter America/E Pluribus Unum!

Class Skills:

Magic Resistance: A

No matter what kind, magic less than A rank will be nullified.

Independent Manifestation: C

A special skill. An ultra-high level version of Independent Action. Additionally, for definition’s sake, she resists Insta-death and time manipulation style attacks. Having this skill, she---

Connection to the Root: A

Something that comes from「」, and goes to 「」. Divided at the two, revolving with the four symbols, managing the eight trigrams, it is what lays the foundation of the world. The Ryougi is the cosmic duality of the taijitu, exemplified. Her name is Shiki as in suushiki* and from Shiki in shikigami.**

Thus, this is proof of an all-powerful wish granting device. To those with this skill, normal parameters hold no meaning.

Personal Skills:

Mystic Eyes of Death Perception: C

It ranks lower than Assassin Shiki’s. It’s not something she actually needs.

Cloud Shine: B

A high-speed sword rush from the readiness of changing into a mindset of that of a swordsman. Five intervals…… Meaning nine meters can be crossed instantly to her target.

Taijitu: A

Taijitu Raden***. If you wish to remember it, if you wish to save it, then - forget it. Longing and regret are two sides of the same coin. It is the same as life and death. A paradox spiral. This Shiki gains HP by losing NP.

Noble Phantasm:

Mukushiki - Kara no Kyoukai

Rank: EX Classification: Anti-Unit Range: 1~999 Maximum Number of Targets: 64 people

Mukushiki - Kara no Kyoukai. By applying the theory of the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, she can cut the target’s “lines of death.” From nirvana, a single sword swing of the afterlife cleaves, and all life is given peace.

Personal:

Personality:

An integrated personality of Shiki Ryougi’s subconscious. A female in her late twenties. A gentle and understanding elder sister. Shiki grew until her late twenties and took on a maternal charm. She exudes a sense of otherworldliness, yet in actuality, she has no sense of danger as a character like “the dream Shiki sees.” Everything is “seen through glass” and accepted. She is not a Western Goddess, but a kami of the East. She is close to being a benevolent manifestation of a kami, but since she is intrinsically malicious, she could be said to be a “devilish manifestation of a kami.” She denies the theory that humanity is fundamentally good. She has a sighing, “Because human beings are fundamentally evil, things will become worse,” while cheering on humanity’s underlying strength in their false courage, saying, “So please do your best,” kind of stance. It’s truly troublesome.

Motivation and Attitude Toward Master:

Because the chance of summoning her is on par with a miracle, she follows her role as a Servant well. She almost certainly sees this as a game. For her, who cannot be found by anyone, whose existence cannot be spoken of by anyone, what is this fleeting encounter?

Speech Example:

“Servant, Saber, Ryougi Shiki. I have appeared in response to your summons. …...Fufu, is this alright? There’s a limit to uniqueness, but even so, I look forward to working with you, Master?” “Everything is but a dream--- and this, the remnant of flowers.” “It is good to replace a katana. You can never have too many beautiful children.***” “I am a Servant. No matter what, I will obey any command. I mean, this seems pretty fun.” “Things I like? Of course that would be you, who summoned me, Master. Even if this is but a fleeting dream.” “Truth be told, I do not sleep. That’s why the nights are always so lonely. The feeling that something is missing is frustrating. But seeing your sleeping face is a benefit. Be that I could protect you, even in your dreams.”

This Figure in FGO:

A glimpse of a goddess, a Shiki from the boundary, a rogue singularity. She wears a radiant kimono, has a graceful bearing, and benevolent judgement. She regards all strange circumstances as simply daily life. Because her existence is uncertain, despite realizing events are strange, it is of no concern to her.

Properly speaking, one will never meet her. Still--- if she were to be encountered, it would be on a snowy day while everyone is asleep.

◆

This is the same Shiki Ryougi as the girl who wears a leather jacket on top of a kimono. However, her personality is different. If Shiki Ryougi is a girl named “Shiki,” then this person is a woman named “Ryougi.” In addition to Ryougi it is the origin, the personality of the body itself embodies 「」. Because she should not come into the world, she slumbers within Shiki from her birth to her death. Shiki cannot perceive “Ryougi,” yet still, “Ryougi” would never impersonate Shiki.

Ties to Characters:

Mysterious Heroine X: “She’s much too cute. Somehow it’s similar to cutting.” *Too much…… The meaning of “too much.” She uses it to mean something like “the best” and “absurd.”

Minamoto no Raikou: As both of us are katana wielding Servants, I’d like to have a bout. There’s also a sense of familiarity in toying with a devilish lurking within.

Xuanzang Sanzang: Sanzang is someone Shiki Ryougi cannot keep quiet about. “So you’re the administer of the Tathagata. Then…… can you stop a blade with your bare hands?”

Illustrator Comments:

Initially, I thought her third stage should be a young bride from Mirai Fukuin, but in terms of concept, she’s slightly different in FGO, so I made her a new design with Kaguya-hime***** as the motif. That’s why her uchikake pattern is the same as the Silicon Princess’s from Tsuki no Sango.******

*The kanji for Shiki’s name is used in many words with the same pronunciation. “Suushiki” means a numerical formula. **Likewise, that kanji is also used in “shikigami.” “Shikigami” are beings in Japanese folklore, originating from the Onmyoudou (literally - “The Way of Yin and Yang,” which ties into Shiki’s thematic motif of taijitu AKA yin+yang). They’re thought to be a sort of kami and are conjured to act almost as familiars to their conjurer. ***”Raden” is a technique in lacquerware in which inlays of shell and ivory are used. The kanji itself translates to mother-of-pearl. The Onyou Raden (or Taijitu Raden) is also Shiki’s parry in Melty Blood. ****She says, aloud, “children,” but in the material book “children” is in parenthesis, and what she means is sword. (Yes, she sees her swords as children apparently) *****An uchikake is a woman’s bridal robe with trailing skirts worn over a kimono ******Tsuki no Sango is a written work relating to Tsukihime, in a world where the events of Tsukihime didn’t take place. The “Silicone Princess” is the also known as the Girl of the Moon (or Moon Girl if that’s a mouthful) who was the moon’s mind/soul put into a silicone body scientists created for her.

[j-amespotter]

★ august [pt. 1] - s. b.

“you weren’t mine to lose.”

Pairing: Sirius Black x Slytherin!Reader, Regulus Black x Reader (mentioned)

x. x. x.

Summary: As one of the Order of the Phoenix’s freshest recruits, love certainly was not on Sirius Black’s mind the summer after he finished school – especially not with a Slytherin, who just happened to be his brother’s girlfriend.

Genre/Warnings: angst, alcohol, language, mentions of death & war, infidelity, implied smut 

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: august but from the guy’s pov?? i think yes. this was the first one-shot i wrote for this series so let me know what you think! lmk if you wanna be added to my taglist. p.s. i do not condone cheating!!!!!! 

masterlist

Your lips were centimeters apart. It seemed too late to change course, but he had to ask. He had never done something so reckless, which for him, was saying something. “Are you sure?”

He was scared of the answer. One look at you told him you were scared of answering. “We’ve never… I mean, I’ve never done this before,” you whispered. Your noses grazed against each other, tantalizingly close. 

His hand hovered underneath your robes. It felt large against your bare stomach. “We can stop.” 

“I don’t want to stop.” With one hand around his neck and the other on his chest, you tugged him closer. The moment your lips met erased his doubts so fully that if he stopped to think about it, it would have scared him.

Your shoes slipped off as he delicately lifted you off of your feet. Gently, he laid you down on his bed and paused to stare at how small and trusting you looked in the moment. It was only your fifth visit to his flat, yet you already looked like you belonged. He would never have expected someone from his forgotten life to fit into his current one so unquestionably. 

*One Week Earlier*

It was getting easier and easier to slip away from Regulus these days. While you were accustomed to seeing less of each other during the summer holidays, now you were more distant than ever. You knew why, of course. Being a Slytherin, you were privy to an entire host of secrets – Regulus was too. Hogwarts’ rowdiest, most divided class graduated just a month earlier, and many of your friends, if you could even call them that, had chosen a side in this war. His side. 

You knew Regulus agreed with the Dark Lord’s philosophies and marveled at his promises. However, it was not until this school year that you realized exactly how much your boyfriend worshipped the elusive man responsible for the murders of so many innocent people. He would scour the Daily Prophet for news, eager but not uneasy. He trailed after Snape, Avery, and Mulciber, and the whisperings about the three of them were hardly positive. It was rumored that all of them had been "marked." You didn’t know exactly what that meant but worried Regulus was next. 

He sensed your fear but didn’t say much to soothe you. Perhaps he thought he could convince you to join him – or, at least, stand by his side as he signed away his services. You weren’t interested. In fact, you were terrified. Though your family was prominent, prosperous, and pureblood, they never participated in what your father coined to be “blood politics.” Your indifference, which occasionally transformed into blatant disgust, over the growingly common prejudice among your peers ostracized you from your fellow Slytherins. You managed to keep your reservations to yourself for the sake of House unity but could no longer remain silent. Not when your childhood love drifted further and further away from you. 

It was slow, but of course, there was a final straw. In his last letter, Regulus wrote that his cousin Bella was teaching him how to duel “the proper way.” As someone who saw nothing substandard in your Defense Against the Dark Arts education thus far, you could only imagine what Bellatrix Lestrange would consider to be the “proper” way to duel. You had limited experience with the woman, having only caught glimpses of her as a child at Grimmauld Place and as Regulus’s date to her wedding. Nonetheless, the rumors about her were becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

So you sought the one person you thought may listen to you. Of course, there was the issue of finding him. You had no idea where he lived, though you doubted he would be thrilled to meet you, especially at his place of residence. You thought of writing to him but could not risk seeing and sending the words you had not yet uttered aloud. 

Ultimately, you decided that the best course of action was to find him in public, no matter how difficult it would be. You knew if you willed it hard enough, fate would bring him to you – and you understood the power of your love better than anyone. 

It took six days of solitary walks through Diagon Alley for you to finally find him. It wasn’t easy at all. You managed to keep your parents at bay by entrusting your safety with your pureblood Slytherin status. However, what was once the most bustling shopping center in the Wizarding World became drearier by day. More wanted posters appeared on brick walls as the number of disappearances grew. Within days, there were fewer groups of visitors for you to huddle behind without drawing suspicion. 

He was in the Leaky Cauldron with a shorter man, someone you recognized to be Peter Pettigrew. They were huddled together but deep in conversation. Actually, it seemed as though he was doing most of the talking. You found yourself staring at his muscular, tattooed arms as he gestured wildly at Pettigrew, who stared at him with wonder, excitement, and apprehension all at once. Despite the normal-looking exchange, both men gripped their wands tightly and took turns periodically glancing over their shoulders. 

Peter was too far away for you to read his lips, but checked his watch and jumped in surprise. You inched closer, hoping to find an in for your mission. Finally, you were close enough to hear his parting words. “Sorry, Padfoot... Mum’s waiting for me. You know how she gets, especially now.” 

“Alright, mate. Get home safe. I’ll see you… when I see you.” 

You were not stupid. You had no idea what that meant, but judging by Peter’s stiff nod, there was definitely a predetermined meeting time and place that they could not risk anyone overhearing. Given the circumstances, you could hardly blame them. 

Your interaction with Sirius Black was limited, but you had heard enough about him to know that he was reckless, devil-may-care, and according to his brother, inconsiderate of everyone’s feelings. Hearing the sincerity in his goodbye to his friend sounded quite the opposite, or perhaps was just a sign of the times. 

Peter scurried away and out of sight. You saw Sirius reach for a pouch in his pocket, out of which he scooped a handful of Sickles. They clattered onto the table. Before he finished counting his change, you slid into the seat across from him. 

Startled, Sirius stood and pointed his wand at you. His motions were seamless. It was as if he could kill you with a single swish. You hardly had time to wonder if you would be as skilled with your wand as he seemed to be when you finished school. “Listen, I just want to talk. Please sit down.” There weren’t too many other customers in the pub, but there was no doubt your exchange was attracting attention. 

Sirius sneered at you. “Why would I want to talk to you? Did he send you? Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it.”

It surprised you that he knew who you were. Regulus was convinced that Sirius abandoned the Black family once and for all and did not care for his extracurricular activities. Granted, much of your scheme relied on the fact that he did. “No, he didn’t send me. I need to talk to you about him, actually. In private.”

He looked apprehensive but curious. You sighed in relief as he lowered his wand and sat down, “Whatever you have to say, you can say it here.” 

“Please,” you tried again. “I’m no threat to you.” 

He stared at you, and in his pale eyes you saw something so familiar yet so foreign. “Fine. Follow me.” 

He swiftly led you out of the pub. Although you were eager, you maintained an acceptable distance from him. The air was sticky; you could feel your flushed cheeks. You always hated summer because of the unbearable weather and because it was always the longest you would spend apart from Regulus. However, you found yourself entranced by the way Sirius’s neckline glistened. There was a warm glow radiating off of the little bits of his exposed skin, slightly tanner than his brother’s. You were surprised at how easy it was to distinguish these details. You always considered yourself to be too young for and morally above noticing Regulus’s physique. It was far too shallow to remark on a man's physical beauty and far too desperate when all you could see were his neck and arms. 

“Get your license yet?” 

You shook your head. “No, not yet.” 

“Okay,” said Sirius, extending a hand. “I’ll take you with me.” 

You were used to Side-Along Apparition, so your surprise was more at your surroundings. You landed on a street in front of a very tall building. Craning your neck to observe the one in front of you, you asked, “Where are we?” 

“London,” he answered vaguely. He had not let go of your hand. 

“I figured. But this looks like a Muggle building.” 

“Got a problem with that?” He snapped, and as if he had just realized what he was doing, he let go of your hand as if it was rotting. 

You internally groaned at how sweaty it was. “N-No. I’ve just never been around here, that’s all.” 

You waited for a snarky response, but received none. Instead, he pushed open the door of the building and led your to what you could only assume was his flat. 

“I would say make yourself at home, but don’t.” Sirius did not have guests often, and when he did, they definitely did not include his little brother’s girlfriend. Damn, he thought to himself. Wait until James hears about this. 

You were still in school – although, so was he, just a month earlier. But you were in a rival house. And worst of all, he had seen you in the same position, perched onto a sofa with inquisitive eyes, when you both were children at his parents’ house. It was curious to him that you looked just as out of place then as you did now. 

“I know this is strange, but I have no other choice.” Your voice broke off and for the tiniest millisecond, he felt sorry for you. “I think he’s… I mean I feel that… that R-Regulus is planning on joining the Dark Lord.” “Call him Voldemort, will you?” Sirius interrupted irritably. 

You flinched. “I really shouldn’t.”

Though he was annoyed, he understood and did not probe you further. “Listen, I don’t know what you thought trying to find me, or even how you found me for that matter, but I can’t help you. I know what you’re worried about and you’re probably right to be worried. But I tried talking to him before I ran – I mean, left. He won’t budge. He’s in too deep. Sorry,” he added. 

Your eyes glossed over. “I figured you’d say that.” Tears streamed down your rosy cheeks. “S-Sorry, I don’t mean to load this on you. I just feel so alone sometimes. And so scared for him. He really has no idea what he’s getting himself into, does he?”

Sirius stared at you, contemplating whether he should tell you what his dim-witted brother was really getting himself into. He only started to see it for himself now. “I’m not sure what I should tell you, but I understand. If you want to talk about it…” 

You glanced at him in wonder, cocking your head to the side. “Er, thanks. But I should get home. My parents must be worried. Can I Floo out of here?” 

You looked even more upset than before, and Sirius felt guilty for leaving everything so unresolved. Although, should he really care about your feelings? Anyone who willingly chose to spend time with a tosser like Regulus probably deserved whatever hell he would put them through… although… 

“Yeah, I installed one,” he said, gesturing to the fireplace. 

Wiping your eyes nimbly, you stood and smoothed the front of your robes. “Thank you. Sorry if it was a bother.”

“No problem. I know… I know that you aren’t like them. And I know what you’re going through. Probably better than anyone.”

You smiled at him, and without warning, his stomach flipped. It couldn’t have been the first time he’d seen you smile, but it was definitely the first time you smiled at him. Maybe you had once before when you were children. For now, all Sirius seemed to hone in on was the soft dimple on your right cheek and the way your eyes lit up almost automatically. 

“If you ever need to talk about it, you can always come around here.” He knew it was strange for him to offer you that, but you had known each other for so long. You both had the same doubts… perhaps you lacked the bravery to act on them as he did, though he could hardly fault you for that. 

“Thank you, Sirius,” you said softly. 

☆

It was more than sex. You would spend hours talking, entangled in his bedsheets, watching the sunrise together for several mornings in a row. Sirius glanced warily at the clock on his bedside table. “Where do your parents think you are?”

You were drawing circles on his bare chest. “I told them I was with him.” 

Despite being the reason you sought him out, it became an unspoken rule between the two of you to not mention his name. The subject of Regulus and, by extension, the war became as taboo as saying Lord Voldemort. 

He hated it. He tried to convince himself that he was acting on lust, that he just needed to relieve his stress of the war and Order training, but he couldn’t. Not when every time you arrived unannounced, he scribbled excuses to get out of dinner with the Potters, or drinks with the boys, or hell, even Order meetings. 

Sirius wished he could explain it to James. Surely, his best friend would convince him of the stupidity of engaging in an affair with his brother’s girlfriend. But then he would watch you wearing his shirt, sipping wine, and dancing barefoot in his kitchen. He would imagine you wrapping your arms around his waist on his new motorcycle and his insides would implode. Then, he would decide that he did not want to be dissuaded. He was falling for you. One look at you told him you were falling for him too. 

“Where have you been, mate? The parents are driving me up a wall about you. Lily’s convinced you’ve got a girlfriend or something,” joked James. 

They were sitting in the pub on a night Sirius knew you had a family function to attend. He swallowed bitterly as he wondered whether or not Regulus would be there. Were you together right now? Did you confess? Was he angry? Were you crying?

Noticing his best friend’s silence, James raised an eyebrow. “Do you? Have a girlfriend or something?”

Sirius knew he could not lie to James, but he debated exactly how much he wanted to delve into the subject. “Or something.” Before he could he stop himself, the secrets were spilling off of his tongue. 

When he finished, Sirius wasn’t sure if he felt better or worse. He tried to focus on James’s hazel eyes as they widened at every turn in the story. “Mate… you’re fucked.”

He tried not to ponder at these words too hard in the hopes that he wouldn’t splinch himself Apparating back to his flat. It didn’t shock him to see you there – he had allowed you too much access to everything and he had no intention of taking it back.

Emerald green dress robes were slipping off of your shoulders. With pearls draped around your neck and pieces of hair straying out of your topknot, Sirius could not help but swoon at how beautiful you looked. He wondered briefly what it would have been like if you had chosen him over Regulus. What if there was no foul play? Would you be happy? Or would you run away, as you had with his brother?

He was still tipsy. James’s warnings ran scattered in his brain, ringing like a siren. But they mattered little now that you were in front of him. “How was–” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you interrupted. Then you stepped forward and tugged at his half-unbuttoned shirt, pressing your lips against his. “Make me forget.” 

“Consider it done.” 

Your bare limbs tangled together as you shared wine-drunk, open-mouthed, sporadic kisses, giggling and whispering words of sensual encouragement. How did you become so in sync in a matter of weeks? Sirius had never fallen this hard. “I’m yours, (Y/N).” 

You hummed in satisfaction, fingers wound up in his hair. 

“I mean it,” he urged. “I love you.” 

You didn’t respond. Strange, he thought to himself. You never hesitated in reciprocating, ever. When he jumped, you jumped with him, no questions asked. He glanced at the clock from over your shoulder and watched it strike midnight. It was the first of September. “You’re due at King’s Cross today, aren’t you?”

You nodded, not meeting his eyes. 

He chuckled darkly. All of a sudden, he felt cold and strangled. He wanted to push you far away and yet, pull you close to him so you had no hope of escaping. “Will you write to me?” 

“Sirius…” 

“Don’t,” he snapped. “Don’t say my name like that. I should have known… fucking snake.” 

He hadn’t let go of you. “I’m sorry darling,” you whispered, “but I can’t give up on him yet.” 

It was all he had to hear. He couldn’t think of how he was going to recover from this, not when you were lying right in front of him. “I think you should go.” 

“M-Maybe someday we can–” “Forget it.” He should have seen this coming from the second you walked up to him in the pub. You had come to him for Regulus and now you were leaving him for Regulus. Yet another bit of happiness his brother snatched away from him. But even so... he was your first and Regulus would never know. He would never know that you lost yourself in him. His no-good elder brother. But none of that mattered now, not when you were going back to him. After all, at the end of the day, you were his. 

I should have known. Sirius silently cursed at himself, watching the retreating figure of the girl he had fallen in love with. He should have known that you were always on borrowed time. You were gone quicker than the seasons change, and left with him your sweaty, sun-kissed memories. 

PART 2

Taglist: @iwritesiriusly @mads-bri @she-seeks-magic @sarcasticallywitty15 @lunalovecroft @fific7 @u-no-poo​

[j-amespotter]

★ exile - s. b.

“you’re not my homeland anymore.”

Pairings: Sirius Black x Reader, Reader x Male!OC

x. x. x.

Summary: Sirius is caught in the middle of a quarrel between two lovers; AU where Harry is raised by his godmother.

Genre/Warnings: angst, language, mentions of death & war, dumbledore-bashing 

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: this can be read as a stand-alone, but i plan on writing a part 2 based on the song ivy (for those who would like a semi-happier ending). let me know if you want to be on my general/a character-specific taglist. 

masterlist

Sirius probably should not have stayed behind. All context clues pointed to the fact that he probably should leave the dining room. However, it was his dining room. It wasn’t his fault you were having a full-fledged argument with someone that was a complete stranger to him in his house. 

To be fair, he was still processing. Twelve years in Azkaban had him always prepared for the worst, but with Remus’s forgiveness and Harry’s acceptance of him, he was on a high. A high that, unfortunately, came crashing down the minute he discovered his girlfriend (Ex-girlfriend? There wasn’t ever actually a break-up, but Sirius got the hint pretty fast) had married in the fourteen years they spent apart. 

He supposed he should be thankful. Thanks to you and your husband, Harry grew up in a loving household. Harry had a family. 

John. His name was John. The name itself disgusted him. As he got to know John, it comforted him to find out that he was every bit a square as his name suggested. He was nice, though. Sirius couldn’t deny that. Stable. Perfect. Blonde. 

It was thrilling, actually. Watching his perfection deteriorate right there, in Sirius’s dining room. And besides the personal delight it brought to see you frown at John, Sirius had a right to be there. You were fighting about matters that concerned his godson, and he had already failed Harry for twelve years. 

“I’m telling you, (Y/N). We need to trust Dumbledore,” John argued with his wife. He sounded tired. Sirius hoped he wasn’t smirking, but at the same time, he didn’t really care. As perfect as this man seemed to be, he very obviously lacked the stamina to keep up with you. This fact satisfied him immensely. 

Sirius watched as you scoffed. “Dumbledore has got nothing to do with this. He’s my godson. I’m the one that raised him. Dumbledore stepped in when it was convenient for him – now when Harry’s grown up and useful.” 

John looked at you with an odd, doubtful expression on his face. “You weren’t the only one that raised him,” he said quietly. 

“I didn’t mean it like that…” you trailed off nervously. Sirius found it strange to see you back down so easily. He dared to hope that there was some trouble in paradise but was too well-acquainted with disappointment to let it flourish.

The three of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Sirius, having remained uncharacteristically quiet in the encounter thus far, wondered if he should intervene. Before he could form a coherent thought, John broke the silence. “I don’t see why we should tell Harry the prophecy if you haven’t even told me yet.” 

For the first time all night, and quite involuntarily, you met Sirius’s eye. Out of the five people who knew of the prophecy’s full contents, only three survived. Fortunately for you, your husband did not notice the interaction – Sirius gathered that John remained blissfully unaware of your romantic history. “Nobody in the Order knows,” you said, “and nobody is supposed to know. I don’t want to tell Harry the prophecy. I just want him to know what to expect. There is danger in the Department of Mysteries, and if Dumbledore thinks Voldemort will try to lure him there, he should know it. You know how Harry is, John. If we don’t give him answers, he’ll go looking for them himself.” 

John winced at the invocation of the Dark Lord’s name. “But Dumbledore…”

“I agree with (Y/N),” interrupted Sirius finally. “It is not Dumbledore’s decision; it is ours. (Y/N)’s and mine. We are his godparents.”

John, who had no reason to dislike Sirius, stared at him in irritation. “Fine, if that’s what you think. You reap what you sow, I suppose.” With a firm glance, he turned to you. “I have sacrificed so much for you and Harry, yet you always keep me at arm’s length. Let me know when you’re ready to be a family.” With that, he got up and left the dining room. 

You flushed. Sirius felt a wave of fury at the man. How dare he throw that in your face? Selfish bastard. He waited for John’s footsteps to fade away. “Some guy you’ve got there,” he remarked sarcastically. 

Your eyes snapped in his direction. “He’s not ‘some guy.’ He’s my husband. And what business did you have, stepping in like that? I can handle myself.” 

“You didn’t ask me to leave,” Sirius pointed out without missing a beat. 

“I let you stay out of courtesy, Black. You are Harry’s godfather. I can’t change that.” 

“Good. Merlin knows you tried,” he said, glancing in the general direction of the door John just walked out. “See, we even argue better.”  

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t love him,” said Sirius matter-of-factly.

Anger flared in your eyes. “Yes, I do.” 

“Bullshit,” said Sirius, invigorated by your blazing look. “You're forgetting that I’ve seen it when you’re in love. Was on the receiving end, in fact. If you love him, you absolutely worshipped me.”

You looked at him, scandalized by the insinuation. “You’re an arse.” 

“Maybe, but one that speaks cold, hard facts.” He watched you, his pale eyes attempting to memorize your features. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you snapped. 

“Can’t help it, love,” he said casually. It felt like fitting into an old rhythm. Sirius refused to believe you couldn’t feel the same way. 

You sat in silence for a while, but not like the awkward silence that enveloped the room when John occupied the space. You stared at your glass, lost in thought. “At least he didn’t leave.” 

Sirius swallowed heavily. “You didn’t stop me.” 

You looked indignant. “You must be joking.” 

“You’re freaking me out, Sirius. What the hell happened?” You clutched his arm, shaking him for answers. 

Sirius was inconsolable. “J-James and Lily… d-dead.” His voice cracked. 

Tears spilled out of your eyes. “N-No, that’s not possible. You said they were safe, that everything was fine!” 

He was trembling. You could barely make out his words. “The little rat…” 

“W-Who?” You were crying. Lily… your best friend… She couldn’t be dead. Bright, bubbly, perfect Lily Potter could not be dead. 

Suddenly, Sirius was standing up, wiping his eyes. “I have to go.” 

Your eyes widened. “What? Where? Where’s Harry?” 

“With Dumbledore. I have to go.” 

“Wait, don’t leave me here–” But with a crack, he was gone. 

Sirius sighed, rubbing his unkempt beard. “You didn’t come after me. You didn’t stop them from taking me. You didn’t get me out.” 

“How the hell was I supposed to do that? You didn’t tell me about switching the Secret-Keepers. You didn’t have an orphaned baby in your lap. And I saw your picture in the paper. Do you even know how deranged you looked? What was I supposed to do?”

“Goddamnit, I don’t know! Everything went wrong…” Sirius said, raising his voice slightly. “I lost my best friend.” 

“So did I,” you whispered. “Harry lost his parents. We both needed you.” 

“But I wasn’t there…” 

You shook your head. “No, you weren’t.” 

“And John was?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’m here now,” said Sirius in a resigned voice. 

“I can see that,” you joked with a sad smile. “I’m glad. We both are – Harry and me.” 

“You raised him well,” said Sirius sincerely. “James and Lily would’ve been proud of him.” 

You smiled at him like never before. His heart thudded against his chest. “I hope so. Thank you.” 

“Does he make you happy?” 

You stared at a spot over his shoulder, refusing to make eye contact. “It’s none of your concern, Sirius.” 

“It always will be, you know that.” You deserve better, he wanted to say. Better than him and me. 

You deserved someone who completed you, not just someone who fits the mold. As you bid him goodnight, Sirius couldn’t help the twinge of envy brewing in his chest. Beyond his jealousy and hatred of John, he felt sad. Sirius recognized the unhappiness in your eyes, and he felt helpless. There was nothing he could do for you anymore. 

Taglist: @iwritesiriusly​ @lunalovecroft​

[j-amespotter]

★ mirrorball - j. p.

“i'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.”

Pairing: James Potter x Gryffindor!Reader

x. x. x.

Summary: James Potter has only ever had one girl on his mind. You’ve always known that. You decide it’s time for a new haircut. 

Genre/Warnings: slight angst/FLUFF, insecurity (?)

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: fluff?? from me??? who would have thought? first time writing for james! this is just me finding out lily had shoulder-length hair in ootp and rolling with it ;p let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist

masterlist

“Are you sure about this?” asked Mary Macdonald, a fellow sixth-year, close friend and roommate of yours.

Open scissors hovered around a section of your thick hair. You eyed yourself in the mirror contemplatively. “Positive,” you affirmed.

Mary shook her head disapprovingly and sighed. “If you insist. I really like your long hair, though.” 

A small, almost-undetectable part of you agreed. “Change is always good.” 

“For the right reasons,” retorted Mary. Nevertheless, she trimmed off the allotted portion of your hair. Gulping at the lopsided haircut, you knew there was no turning back. You assumed that cutting your hair to match Lily Evans’s new hairstyle was not what Mary considered to be “for the right reasons.” 

“You know,” said Mary after snipping away in silence for a few minutes, “I think he likes you just the way you are.” 

That’s the problem, you wanted to answer. I want more. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Mary glanced towards the door of their dormitory. “Copying Lily’s haircut is not the way to go about this, (Y/N),” she said in a hushed whisper. 

Yes, it is. He chose her. “I’m not trying to copy Lily,” you hissed defensively. “I just wanted to try something different. And what better way to celebrate a Quidditch win than to debut a new haircut?” 

Suddenly, you caught sight of a new face in the dormitory. With a quick glimpse of her, you couldn't help your defeated sigh. Lily Evans was bright and funny. She was the physical embodiment of sunshine, with hair the color of red wine and vivid green eyes. It was for these reasons and more that, unfortunately for you, Lily became the object of James Potter's affection, nearly as much as he was yours. 

But even that was untrue. Your love for James, despite its unrequited nature, was different from his love for Lily. You and James were two sides of the same coin, just different enough to complement each other perfectly. It had been six years. The boy who had overpowered every waking thought of yours was yet to come to the same realization. 

“Hey,” greeted Lily. “Great game today, (Y/N)! Party just started downstairs. What’s the hold-up?” She spotted the scissors in Mary’s hand and your sheepish gaze through the mirror. “Merlin, you cut your hair! It looks amazing!” 

You wished you could hate her, but such was the unmistakable appeal of Lily Evans. “Thanks, Lily,” you said with what you hoped was a genuine smile. “I was freshening up. We thought I could use a little spruce.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mary turn away hastily. 

“Well, hurry up and get changed! Everyone’s waiting,” Lily added with a cheeky smile, one you could not entirely understand. 

You stood up, shaking the hair off of your uniform. With a silent incantation and a flick of your wand, it disappeared from the floor. Glancing at Lily, an idea popped into your head. “I just need to get changed. Lily, can I borrow that yellow dress of yours? The one with the daisies? You wore it at the last game and said I could try it on some time.”

Lily nodded, as unassuming as ever. You decidedly ignored Mary’s glare as you waited for the dress to make it into your hands.  

☆

“Took you long enough,” teased Sirius as you sauntered down the stairs with Mary and Lily at your heels. As you reached the bottom of the steps, he peered closer at you. “You look different, (L/N).”

You grinned. “Good different? Or bad different?” 

“Ask Potter,” said Lily from behind you. 

Feeling the heat rise up your cheeks, you dismissed the supposedly good-natured comment. Instead, you took in your surroundings. An impressive display of scarlet and gold ornamented the common room. Your inner lioness roared in delight. As a Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, the best House team in Hogwarts history, you couldn’t help the immense pride awakening in your chest at your latest win. You closed your eyes. In an instant, you remembered the exhilarating feel of a soaring broomstick in the brisk air. You imagined yourself in perfect formation with your teammates, trailing after a flash of dark, ruffled hair. You looked into his resolute eyes as he seamlessly passed you the Quaffle. 

“Did you cut your hair?” interrupted James’s silky voice. 

You turned around with a dazed smile on your face. Meeting his unreadable gaze, you hummed affirmatively. “What d’you think?” 

For an unknown reason, he seemed taken aback. Slowly, his eyes raked over your body, head to toe. “It’s pretty,” he said quietly. You didn’t respond immediately, confused by the sudden tortured expression on his face. “Isn’t it a bit cold for that outfit?” 

You chuckled darkly. “That’s not what you said when Lily wore it last time.” 

James stared at you open-mouthed. Without a word, he stalked away, joining Peter for a butterbeer in the corner of the room. 

“What happened?” asked Lily. 

You stumbled backward. At this moment, you regretted wearing the high heels you found at the bottom of your trunk. “Nothing,” you snapped. 

Lily raised her eyebrow. “There’s no need to take that tone with me,” she said coolly. “It’s not my fault both of you are completely blind.” 

“You don’t have a clue, Evans,” you responded, involuntarily blushing at her veiled insinuation. 

“I think I do. He has feelings for you, (Y/N).”

You laughed, though you found nothing funny about it. “He likes you, Lily.”

“Maybe,” said Lily, “but he’s in love with you. Everyone can see it.” She paused, placing a friendly hand on your shoulder. “Go talk to him.”

Not a single part of you wanted to have this conversation. As Lily walked toward a tired-looking Remus, you exhaled a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

Talk to him, said a firm voice in your head. Maybe he feels the same way. 

Impossible. There was no way he could feel what you felt just thinking about him. Loving James was like flying. He was the adrenaline rush of being suspended in mid-air. He hit you with the speed of a Bludger whirring past your face. He was the Snitch that delicately fluttered in front of you, brushing your skin. He was the Quaffle that thumped perfectly in your hand. 

You scanned the room for the hazel-eyed boy that owned your heart, only to discover that he had left Peter to his own devices. Something heavy settled in your stomach when you finally spotted him, seated on the space on the couch next to none other than Lily Evans. James chatted with her animatedly. You found no comfort in the tell-tale signs of her typical irritation. 

Without a second glance, you tripped over your own two feet as you dashed for the portrait hole, wanting more than anything for fresh air and a free spot to scream yourself hoarse. 

☆

It was by sheer stealth or unshakeable determination that you did not get caught. Students weren’t allowed on the Quidditch pitch without permission, but it was the only place you wanted to be. It was the only place you could bear to be. 

You stood in the center of the pitch, hugging yourself as the prickly cold attacked you from all sides. You thought of lying down on the icy ground but knew not to subject yourself to any more physical agony. 

Instead, you stood. You stood in heels that were tight around your ankles, sinking into the grass and bruising the underside of your feet. You stood in a strange, sleeveless dress in a January in the Highlands. Your eyes burned with tears that refused to fall. 

Without warning, something feathery grazed your shoulder. Tilting your head slightly, you spotted a Golden Snitch. Gone rogue, you supposed to yourself. It floated at eye-level like a taunt. You reached forward and closed your fingers around it, surprised at the warmth the small object exuded. 

“I should have you play Seeker,” uttered a familiar voice. 

Startled, you whipped around, only to see nothing behind you. Having pivoted too fast, you felt yourself lose balance and topple backward, straight into the frosted grass you were avoiding. 

Peeling off his Invisibility Cloak, James struggled to stop laughing long enough to help you up. Instead, he sat right next to you, wrapping the Cloak around both himself and your blueing body. 

“You’ll ruin it,” you warned, teeth chattering. 

“It can take it,” he assured. “You’re missing the party.” 

“It’s your party, Captain.” 

James shook his head. “It’s our party. We’re a team, you and me.”

You didn’t have anything to say to that. The two of you sat in silence, your hand still clutching the Snitch. 

“You were so tall,” said James unexpectedly. “In your shoes.” 

“I’m not even sure they’re mine,” you said lightly. 

“No, they aren’t, are they?”

You didn’t answer. You pulled the Cloak tighter around you, unknowingly pulling James and all of his accompanying body heat along with it. The two of you were so close. You could see every speck of gold in his eyes. 

James tentatively lifted his hand and reached for the ends of your hair, twirling a piece around his finger. “Your hair grew back.” 

You gasped. “How? I didn’t…”

Grinning, James gently tugged the strand, pulling your ear closer to his lips. “Magic,” he whispered. 

“Idiot,” you said, playfully shoving his chest. 

Like a magnet, he leaned towards you again. There you were, together, under his Cloak, beneath the stars, in your favorite place in the world. With a hand cupping your cheek, he pressed his lips against yours. You inhaled his earthy scent and melted in his slow, seemingly eternal kiss. 

Reluctantly, you pulled away. Your foreheads were touching. His hand remained as it was, cradling your face. “That was…” 

“Breathtaking,” finished James without hesitation. 

“Yes, it was,” you said, nodding fervently. “But James… what about Lily?” 

He frowned. “What about her?” 

“You’ve liked her for ages, James–” 

“Stop,” he interrupted firmly. “This is our moment, (Y/N). I like you, and I think I always have. Scratch that… I liked Evans. But I love you. I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes widened in genuine surprise. “You are?”  

“You’re my best friend,” said James. “I’ve been running away from it for so long. I didn’t mean to hurt you (Y/N). But I want to spend every waking moment with you. I can’t stop thinking about you even when I try.”

“But… I’m just me, James. Little old me.” 

“Exactly. I don’t want you to be any different, (Y/N). Not for me,” he added sincerely. “I’m in love with you exactly the way you are. I’ll love you no matter how you look. But you shouldn't change who you are because of me.” 

“Bighead,” you teased, swallowing the lump in your throat, “thinking it’s just for you.” 

He smiled. James Potter was in love with you: the girl in an oversized Quidditch uniform, her hair cascading behind her, one that could easily deliver a kick in the shins in her trusty trainers. James loved your unfailing wit and uncontrollable nervous energy. He loved the way he felt when he looked at you. He loved the sound of your giggly cheers when you were both in the air. Most of all, he loved the way your lips felt on his. “Your hair grew back,” he repeated, this time with awe he couldn’t conceal. 

“Guess we’re one crazy-haired couple,” you joked. 

“I like the sound of that,” said James, pressing a kiss against your temple. 

You snuggled into him, frozen temperatures now trivial. “I’m keeping the heels, though. I like being tall.”

James snorted. “If you can walk in them.” He proceeded to slip out of the Cloak, stand, and put on a very realistic show of twisting his own ankle. 

“Shut up,” you said as he slid back in, snickering uncontrollably. Releasing the Snitch from your grip, you kissed him hard as it flapped in front of you. 

Without tearing his lips away, James reached for the Snitch and pocketed it. “I love you,” he whispered against your mouth. 

“I love you,” you said, tasting the words on your tongue for the first time, “but if we stay out here, I’ll freeze.”

“Let’s go have our own fun,” said James with another kiss and a wink to follow. “I could get used to this, you know.” 

“Me too, Captain. Me too.”  

Taglist: @iwritesiriusly @mads-bri @she-seeks-magic @sarcasticallywitty15 

[j-amespotter]

★ cardigan - s. b.

“i knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired.” 

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

x. x. x.

Summary: Your relationship with Sirius is on the rocks, but you loved him and at the end of the day, he was always there. For your own happiness, something had to change. 

Genre/Warnings: angst, alcohol, language, toxic relationship 

Word Count: ~3k

A/N: this took a lot, and i mean a lot of energy. not sure how i feel about it (i am my worst critic) but i really didn’t want a pushover protagonist. ps... communicating with your partner is hot! let me know what you think (and if you think i should make a taglist) :) 

masterlist

“Ravenclaw girl this time. Blonde… I think I recognize her. Couldn’t see the front of her robes, she might be one of the fifth-year prefects. You know I’m terrible with names. Ask James, he finds it hilarious.”

“You should work for the Prophet, Lils,” you said, without looking up from your toast, which was becoming more and more tasteless with every bite. “What were they doing?” 

“Talking,” answered Lily pointedly. “He ended the conversation fairly quickly when he saw me looking, though.” 

You sighed. This discussion was becoming too routine for your liking, most often with Lily, occasionally with Remus. “Well, if they were just talking, then I don’t see the issue. Lily, it is early. We have double Potions this morning. I really don’t want to deal with your weird suspicions about my boyfriend right now.” 

If Lily sensed your underlying irritation, she chose to ignore it. “I just think you deserve better, that’s all. I mean, James–” 

You finally turned and stared defiantly into your best friend’s vibrant green eyes. “Lily, I hate to break it to you, but James is the exception, not the rule. Just because he’s some angel on earth doesn’t mean all boyfriends are like that, and that’s not even considering the fact that he’s been hopelessly in love with you since second year…” 

Huffing, Lily picked at the fruit off of her plate. “Okay, I get it. I won’t bring it up again.” It was sweet how much Lily cared. James doted on her day and night. It would have been easy to forget about her friend’s love-related quandaries. But that was Lily Evans – always considerate of others.

Truthfully, you were tired. You knew what ‘talking’ with Sirius Black entailed. It did not make you feel as secure as you indicated to Lily. As time went on, it was getting increasingly harder to defend Sirius’s overly-careless behavior. If he wasn’t chatting up girls in random corners of the castle, he stood you up on your scheduled study dates in favor of detention with James. There was only a little comfort in the fact that he wasn’t always like this. If he was, would you have even dated him? Deep down, you knew that as much as Sirius was a thrill-chaser, he was incredibly capable of being a loving boyfriend. For that reason alone, you bore the incredibly painful motions of being in a relationship with him. 

He briefly reminded you of his better qualities when you opened your Potions textbook and felt a feathery kiss on your neck. “Guess who?” whispered Sirius sultrily into your ear. 

You couldn’t help the automatic flush that made its way onto your cheeks. “Hmm… is it Remus?” you whispered back, stifling a giggle. 

“Don’t tease,” he grunted before planting a swift kiss on your cheek. He plopped onto the chair next to you and faced you with a lazy grin. “You look disappointed, love. I’m afraid your usual Potions partner is a bit preoccupied at the moment.” He gestured across the room, where you spotted Lily practically hanging off of James’s lap, distracting herself until the start of her favorite class with his lips. 

“They’re hopeless,” you commented airily, in an attempt to disguise your envy. You felt Sirius’s gaze burning into you. “Missed you at breakfast this morning,” you added in a casual tone.

“Oh, well, you know–” 

“No, I don’t know,” you interrupted, bitterness leaking from your clipped voice. You always let Sirius off too easily. “But I certainly can’t wait to hear your ready-made list of vague excuses. Please, do continue.” There. He had it coming. He deserved for you to throw him off track.

“Baby, it was nothing,” assured Sirius rather predictably. “Just Pippa asking for help with Transfiguration. Honest.” He placed a hand on his heart in mock sincerity, which only angered you further. 

Nevertheless, you chose not to argue. He was incredibly brilliant with his words. There was no way he would understand your plight. Instead, you absentmindedly flipped through your Potions textbook as Slughorn finally entered his unruly classroom. 

Sirius seemed uncharacteristically bothered by your lack of response. With a half-glance at James and Lily, he entwined his fingers into yours. “They’re in their honeymoon phase, you know. You really can’t compare.” 

“There is no comparison, Sirius. James prioritizes Lily. I can’t remember the last time you prioritized me,” you whispered. There was a finality in your tone that you hoped he would hear. It was the most you were willing to discuss the matter. 

Sirius Black was a lot of things, least of all oblivious. He gently squeezed your hand. Silently, he slipped his fingers out of yours, choosing to follow your lead and not pursue the issue any further. 

A part of you was proud of the fact that you finally found it in you to voice your concerns to him, but another larger part dreaded the irreversible distance it put between the two of you for the rest of the day. You weren’t necessarily avoiding each other. Though his smiles were significantly more tender, he seemed reluctant to talk, let alone touch you.

Sick of the mental torment you were subjecting yourself to, you stuffed your unfinished Charms essay into your bag and headed to your dormitory, choosing to retire for bed early. Mid-yawn, you spotted a single red rose on your unmade bed. You didn’t have to read the attached note to know who it was from but felt your heart thudding against your chest as you unfolded the small piece of parchment. 

I’m sorry. I love you. 

There was no signature, but you could recognize his meticulously-slanted script anywhere. You stared at the note adoringly before pressing your lips to the corner of the crumply parchment and marking it with the remnants of your lip gloss. 

Suddenly, you were no longer tired. Skipping down the stairs, you found yourself wishing for a certain map that would tell you the exact location of the only person you wanted to see.

Fate seemed to be on your side when you saw him in the common room, his head bowed as if he was praying. “You’re here!” 

He gazed up at you, his shoulders relaxing when he noticed the smile on your face. “I’m really–” 

You didn’t let him finish. You kissed him hard, throwing your arms around his neck. You felt him smile against your lips. Reluctantly, you pulled away from him. “Don’t worry about it. I was being silly.” 

Sirius’s grin widened. “You’re quite low maintenance, y’know. I thought it would take at least a week and a hundred roses. And if not roses, then daisies, sunflowers, peonies… I was ready to pull all the stops. For future reference, a good snog is all it takes to win me over.” 

You laughed heartily, though you struggled to keep up with his train of thought. You always appreciated his good-natured ability to poke fun at the gravest circumstances. “I just missed you.” 

“Me too, darling. I’ll do better this time, I promise.” 

☆

True to his word, Sirius showered you with a level of affection that could rival James’s for Lily. He spent every spare moment with you in his bed, sneaking into the kitchen for secret dinners, and pushing you against bookshelves in the back of the library, homework-be-damned.

On Tuesday night, you sat on the Astronomy Tower. You glanced at your watch, realizing that Sirius was nearly an hour late. Your eyelids were drooping shut. It had been a long day. Everything in your brain felt scattered. You could’ve been catching up on the mounds of schoolwork you were now falling behind on. Sirius… Did he say midnight? Did you hear him correctly? Maybe he meant for you to pencil it in. Maybe he was hurt. Was it Remus? You stared at the sky, peering at the crescent shape of the moon. It taunted you. Stop kidding yourself. He’s not coming. 

Just as you were about to call it a night, Sirius stumbled into the Tower and onto the floor. Startled, you helped him up. “There you are! Are you alright? I was so worried… Are you drunk?” 

His grey eyes shone in the soft moonlight. The cloudy expression on his face paired with the sloppy grin he sent your way spoke for him. “Lost track of time… we snuck into Hogsmeade,” he slurred. “Rosmerta slipped us some firewhiskey. Here, I brought us a bottle...” He reached into his robes, only to come out empty-handed. “Uh-oh… finished it. Sorry, baby.”

You processed his words very slowly, realization dawning on you with the weight of heavy bricks. “Un-fucking-believable.” 

“Hey! We’re all of age.” He threw up his hands in surrender and widened his eyes innocently. “Next time, darling. I promise.” 

“It’s not about the fucking drink, Sirius! You’re here so you obviously haven’t forgotten that we had plans tonight! I don’t care if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade, but you should’ve told me. I’ve been waiting here like an idiot for an hour. I’m exhausted!”

“Told you,” he grumbled, now irritated, “we lost track of time.” 

You stared at him, unable to comprehend his complete shift in attitude. “Whatever,” you said finally. “I’m going to bed.” 

Spinning on your heels, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you prepared to march away from him with your chin up. Before you could take too many steps, however, a firm hand grasped your wrist. The intensity of the force pulling you back to him felt so otherworldly that you could hardly believe it was a wasted Sirius. 

You had a fleeting thought of pushing him away but instead tilted your head so he could pepper kisses onto the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over again, between his fluttering pecks along your jawline. 

His lips found yours. His hand released your limp wrist as his fingers gently trailed up your arm. “So beautiful,” he murmured, gazing directly into your eyes. You practically melted as your body fell into his. Like always, his arms were ready to catch you, drunk or otherwise. 

☆

“No Sirius yet?” asked your mother, sipping her drink cheerily.

You refused to look her in the eye in fear of giving something away. “No, not yet. Should be here soon, though.” 

“Better be,” said your father, slipping away from a party guest. “He’ll miss cake.”

It was your parents’ twentieth-anniversary party, an occasion made doubly special as their one and only daughter was now officially a Hogwarts graduate. You had planned the party and made Sirius promise that he would not only attend, but also arrive early to help greet your guests as your boyfriend. 

You knew that your parents did not initially approve of Sirius, but as your relationship strengthened, so did Sirius’s standing in your family. Now, post-Hogwarts, you were desperate to not only show your parents that the two of you were committed to one another but also feel yourself that your love would endure the many challenges of adulthood. 

As the last of your family friends trickled out of your childhood home, you failed to hide your disappointment at his loud absence. Like many months earlier, your mind see-sawed between possibilities, some pathetic, others worrying. You were in the middle of a war, after all. You always believed Sirius’s recklessness would be his downfall. 

Fortunately or unfortunately, your worries subsided when you saw him slip into the parlor with a present in hand and a sheepish smile directed at you and your parents. “Happy anniversary! Sorry I’m late, you won’t believe– hey, where’s the party?” 

“It’s over,” you announced bitterly. 

Your mum and dad sensed the tension and tactfully exited the room. “We saved you some cake, dear,” your mother said to Sirius, after politely thanking him for his present. 

“So,” you started as you heard your parents’ footsteps fade away, “where were you? Actually, don’t answer that. Let me talk first. This was important to me, Sirius. You knew that! What will I say to Mum and Dad? Don’t I matter to you at all? Is it always going to be like this?” 

“Slow down,” whispered Sirius. “I’ll explain everything – just listen! I was with James, okay? We were only mucking around on the bike. I was on the way, I swear! But then these Muggle Aurors – police, they’re called – they started chasing us! We were getting away but these three blokes – Death Eaters – caught up to us. Long story short, we got into quite a scuffle and…” He looked at you in an attempt to gauge your reaction. 

Your mouth hung open as you absorbed his story. Regardless of your anger, he presented a legitimate case for himself that you could not quash. “Death Eaters? Thank Merlin you’re alright. How on earth did you get away?” 

“I’ll tell you everything. Your mum mentioned something about cake?”

You stood on your toes, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head on his chest. “In the kitchen,” you answered softly. “I wish you would be more careful.” 

He kissed your temple. “Don’t worry,” said Sirius dismissively, “I handled it, didn’t I?” 

☆

“So, what do you think?” 

You and Sirius were standing in the middle of his new studio flat. Primely-located and newly-furnished, it was the picture-perfect bachelor pad. Sirius now had a place to call his own, thanks to a bountiful inheritance from his Uncle Alphard. The walls were bare and the lighting dim, adding an overall sensuality to the atmosphere. 

“It’s nice,” you remarked sincerely, smoothing his plain black bed sheets. You peeked into his wardrobe, smirking to yourself as you noticed it was half-empty. “Lost the rest of your clothes, babe?” 

“No,” answered Sirius quietly. “It’s for you.”

“What is?” 

“The closet space. It’s for your clothes.” His voice was barely above a whisper. 

“For when I come to visit,” you amended automatically. 

You turned to see Sirius scratching the back of his head. “No, for when you live here. With me.” 

“W-What?” Your mind was reeling. You leaned against his side table to steady yourself. “Me? Move in with you?” 

“Well… yeah,” said Sirius as he slowly regained his signature confidence. “We’ve been together for ages, seems about right. Besides, James and Lily are getting a place together.” 

You did not understand why you weren’t over the moon. It was what you always wanted from him – a tell-tale symbol of his otherwise-flaky commitment to you, a sign of your sparkling love. It was the beginning of the next chapter of your lives, and you were meant to start it together. On paper, it was perfect. There was no explanation for the sinking feeling in your stomach. 

Suddenly, the words that would never come were on the tip of your tongue. The answer was clear as day. “No.” 

“What?” 

It was an extremely difficult task to catch Sirius Black off-guard, a feat you used to motivate your argument. “No, Sirius. I won’t move in with you.” 

Shock was written all over his face. “What the hell? Why?” 

“Because… you didn’t even ask me!” 

Sirius stared at you blankly for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “Alright… (Y/N), will you please do me the honor of sharing an address with me? Is that it, then? Shall I get down on one knee?” 

“No, Sirius. That’s not the point,” you said firmly. “The point is that you didn’t ask me. You just assumed that I would say yes – don’t interrupt. I know we’ve been together for years, but can’t you see? You make me so incredibly happy and yet, so unbelievably unhappy at the same time. You’re so good to me, and then so horrible, and then amazing again… I can hardly keep up anymore. I’m a fucking doormat and I’m sick of it! It’s humiliating. I’m tired of feeling humiliated in front of people I care about. It’s starting to become too high a price of being in love with you.” 

You ended shakily, afraid to look at him. When you dared, you saw him wearing an unfamiliar expression. The silence washed over you both for an eternity. You had the horrible thought that perhaps this was it. Perhaps, you crossed a line. Maybe he hadn’t noticed how broken you both were, how broken you were, and now… well, he couldn’t unsee it now. You were over. Without a word, you headed for the door with your head down.

“Wait,” shouted Sirius hoarsely. “Don’t go. I-I’m not sure what to say to make you stay.”

“Try being honest,” you whispered weakly. 

He swallowed nervously. “Okay, here goes. I know that I haven’t put enough effort into this relationship… I know that. I realize that I take you for granted and that you deserve better. I don’t blame you for thinking that. I would never have blamed you for thinking that. But here’s the truth – I am so far gone when it comes to you, you have no idea. I am so in love with you. I think about you morning, noon, and night. And the thing is, here we are, fighting for Muggles and Muggleborns and the good of the world… but above all, I am so utterly afraid of losing you. I think that’s why, actually. That’s why I keep you at arm’s length. I don’t think I mean to, but it just happens. Because I’ve never met anyone who loves me as much as you do, not even my mother. Especially not my mother. I’m torn between keeping you close and pushing you away because the truth is, you’ll always deserve better than me. And I’ve always been afraid of you realizing that.”

His truth was careful but sincere. Your hand slipped off the doorknob. Still, it was not the first time Sirius had rendered you speechless. “How do I know you mean it? That it’s more than just words to you?”

“Let me prove it to you,” he said meaningfully, grey eyes glistening. 

You took slow steps toward him, and he embraced you with the hope of filling all the gaps he may have left open. “Okay,” you said, your voice muffled into his shirt. “Just… leave the closet half-empty for a little while.” 

[j-amespotter]

★ the last great american dynasty - s. b.

“i had a marvelous time ruining everything.” 

Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle-born!Reader 

x. x. x.

Summary: A one-shot diving into Sirius’s complicated relationship with Grimmauld Place and where the Muggle-born he falls for fits in.

Genre/Warnings: angst, emotional abuse, alcohol, language, mentions of death & war 

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: so.. this is more of a character study on sirius & his dynamic with his family – i know this song is meant to be about a woman but it also screams sirius to me. i’m a sucker for romance so it’s a reader-insert. fun fact, i was almost done writing this when i realized i wanted it to be a wolfstar fic, but i was too lazy to change it, so just putting that out as a concept lol. let me know what you think & if you’d like me to tag you in future works!! 

masterlist

When Sirius first showed signs of his rebellious nature, Walburga wasn’t worried. After all, many children were incapable of sitting still in large gatherings, mouthing off to their parents, or incessantly teasing their younger siblings. “He will be kept in good company. He will learn,” Walburga would say to her husband. He often exasperated her, but there was no denying her immense pride. Despite his antics, even at a young age, Sirius displayed impressive magical ability and had a commanding presence – excellent qualities for the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. 

She worried only a little when he preferred to spend time with Andromeda, who was clearly becoming disillusioned with their family values, and Alphard, who Walburga believed was beginning to get a little too soft. Still, the Blacks were not raving lunatics. They were traditionalists, committed to upholding the high standards of Wizarding society. Sirius would not defy them, not when the weight of their bloodline rested on his shoulders, not when Regulus would never be able to stomach such responsibility.

On his first night at Hogwarts, Sirius didn't write home. It wasn’t until the morning after that Narcissa delivered the dreadful news to her mother. Walburga’s sister-in-law relished discussing this most recent embarrassment, as the family’s attention was now off her daughter’s courtship of a mudblood. Young Sirius, their direct heir, was sorted into the House of Muggle-lovers and blood traitors, into the House of Godric Gryffindor.

Blown apart by this development, Walburga turned to her younger son. She had no intention of repeating her mistakes and resolved to train him for the responsibility that should have belonged to her eldest. That way, if she was unable to correct Sirius’s behavior, she had back-up. Her legacy was secure. 

During every subsequent holiday, she noticed that the damage was getting more-and-more irreversible. Sirius unabashedly consorted with infamous blood traitors and pathetic half-bloods. He seemed to dread seeing his family as much as she dreaded seeing how much of him she had lost. She tried; no one could say she didn’t. But she was too stern with him. He had inherited his flexibility, or lack thereof, from her. She pushed him too far away. Soon, he stopped returning home for Christmas. When he was sixteen, she spat at him as he closed the door to Number 12 Grimmauld Place one last time, without sparing her a final glance. 

He never expected he would have to return. Offering up the property to the Order seemed like a good idea at the time – he hardly put any thought into it. That was how he made most of his decisions. His track record certainly proved so. When Remus didn’t have anywhere to stay, and neither did the newly-reformed Order of the Phoenix, Sirius knew that his family estate in London was not just their most ideal option, but also the only one they had. 

He managed to enter undetected in his Animagus form with Remus. He had to hand it to fate – there were no extra security measures to keep him out. It was as if she anticipated his arrival. Swallowing, he absorbed his surroundings. Despite the eerie silence and decomposing furniture, it looked like an image straight from his memory. Sirius suddenly felt sixteen again. 

What he did not expect to see, however, was a currently-sleeping life-sized portrait of Walburga Black in the hallway. Though now in his human form, Sirius growled inadvertently. She knew. She always knew that he would come back. She wanted to be there when he did. Unbelievable, he thought to himself. 

Aware of Remus’s wary gaze on him, Sirius walked forward and began pulling on the frame. “Get off, you hag! Remus, help me get this off!” 

Remus went to join his old friend in what seemed like a fruitless mission in his mind but came to an abrupt halt when the portrait, disturbed by her son’s grunts, awoke in a flash of fury. “Filth! Scum! Abomination of my flesh! You are no son of mine,” portrait-Walburga hissed. 

“Shut up, just shut up!” He had not heard her voice since he was near a Dementor, reliving the worst of his teenage years. The visual made it much, much worse. 

“Permanent Sticking Charm, it seems…” Remus said to appease his friend, pulling the withering velvet curtains over its towering frame with all his strength.

“This is torture,” sighed Sirius. “Maybe we can find another place.” 

Remus refused to meet his eye. “For now, it is all we have, Sirius. If it was going to be a problem, you should not have offered it to Professor Dumbledore.” 

Sirius frowned. “It’s all I’m able to do this time around. It’s not like I can go around trailing Death Eaters and infiltrating the Ministry with everyone else.”

“Hopefully, it’s only temporary,” assured Remus, though he was equally as uncertain about Sirius’s fate as a fugitive. “Try not to let this place get into your head, okay?” 

Sirius Black was never good at keeping promises. He had three-and-a-half decades of evidence to back that up. In the weeks following, the Order settled in, consisting of many highly competent Aurors, half-a-dozen Weasleys, and an ex-Death Eater he could do without seeing. Sirius found himself never too far from alcohol, itching for more access. He longed to see Harry and to get away from his wretched house-elf, along with the constant, stinging reminder of his mother's existence. 

But there was something else inside of him, something he couldn’t describe. It was an emotion that was egging him on. He felt it inside of him every time Kreacher muttered complaints about wandering red-headed blood traitor brats. It swirled in his stomach when his mother shouted scathing insults at the clumsy half-blood and filthy half-breed that took temporary refuge in the former pure-blood paradise. 

Then she came. 

She was new. She worked at the Ministry; many of his houseguests were incredibly fond of her. He recognized the innocence in her eyes. It was the same innocence that he had when he first joined the Order seventeen years earlier. It was the same innocence that differentiated every new member from every returning one – they had yet to see tragedy in its fullest form. 

“Hello,” she greeted. She seemed strangely unperturbed by the fact that she was in the presence of an alleged mass murderer. “I’m (Y/N). I’ve been told this is your house. Thank you for playing host.”

“My pleasure,” responded Sirius. Involuntarily, he reached for her hand and kissed it. Suddenly, he became painfully aware of his hollowing cheeks, untamed hair, and liquor-infused breath.

She flushed slightly at the gesture. Black family habits die hard. Just because he chose to refrain from practicing them did not mean he had forgotten, nor did it mean that he wasn’t any good at them. 

Walburga Black’s portrait watched her son fall in love with her. Sirius watched her watch him. There was no telling how she would react. Regulus was dead – it was up to him to preserve their family’s name and purity.

(Y/N) was witty and flirty and incredibly intelligent. He found himself feeling a decade younger as he enjoyed their banter and her overall easiness. Before long, she kissed him in his dimly-lit pantry, and he was too selfish to stop her. They would kiss in every corner of the house, hardly caring that anyone was watching, ignoring the ghosts living within the walls. For Sirius, (Y/N) was his greatest act of defiance. She was born to non-magic parents. As narrated by a disgruntled Kreacher to his now-helpless mistress, she was nothing but a “filthy mudblood.” 

One night, weeks after the children departed for Hogwarts and the house was, as on most days, empty, he caught her staring at the Black family tapestry. Without making a sound, he inched behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Hello, beautiful,” he whispered, pressing a kiss on her shoulder. “Sickle for your thoughts?” 

She leaned into him. As the days went on, she would tire easily. Still, she found happiness in Sirius as he did with her, and they both were old enough to know to reach for it in any capacity they got. “It’s nothing. It’s stupid. Let’s get to bed.” 

“As much as I’m a fan of that idea,” he started with a smirk, “you look upset. Is it work? Fudge?” 

“No, nothing like that.” Her fingers traced his blasted name on the wall. She looked thoughtful. “I’ve just… noticed something about you.” 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” 

“The way you look at your mother.” 

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s no secret that I hate her. I hope that’s not off-putting. You’ve seen what she’s like – it was worse when she was alive. I promise I’m a gentleman in general circumstances… for the most part,” he added cheekily. 

She smiled tightly. “No, I get it. It must be terrible for you, being back here.” 

“It is,” he affirmed. “I’ve got you, though. You make me happier than anything, love.” 

“That’s the thing,” she uttered as if it pained her. Sirius could stare at her fiery expression for days on end. To be on the receiving end was strange. “I can’t help but think that you’re only in love with me to spite her. Like your feelings aren’t love, they’re just a culmination of your hatred for her.” 

It took Sirius an eternity to process what she just said. Realizing that he was not going to say anything, she continued. “Believe me, I know you hate it here. But at the same time, you look so… satisfied. You’re hosting a bunch of blood traitors, half-bloods, and a werewolf in this place that was once the pinnacle of blood purity. You’re providing a haven against the bloody Dark Lord. And worst of all, you’re with a mudblood.” 

“Don’t call yourself that,” interrupted Sirius harshly. 

“It’s the truth. If you weren’t in this position, would we even be together?” 

“Of course,” said Sirius. To answer this question, he didn’t even have to think. “I love you because you’re you. You’re beautiful and smart and make me laugh until my stomach hurts. You’re so good with Harry and you can put anyone in their place. You make me feel new again… God, that’s fucking sappy, but it’s true. I indeed hate this place and I hate her but… but if I let her dictate my choices, even when she’s bloody dead, then she’s won. I don’t want her to win. If I was only with you for your blood status, then I would be no different from my mother.” 

She stared up at him, her eyes betraying a wave of emotions. She reached up to kiss him, tangling her fingers in his hair. “Thank you for saying all of that. Just hold on for a little while, alright? Soon, we’ll be out of here. We can have our own house – you, me, and Harry.” 

He smiled at her sadly. It seemed too unreachable of a goal to him at the moment. “By the beach?” “Wherever you’d like,” she answered, leading him to his bedroom, his only sanctuary in the horrible house. 

As they made their way towards the stairs, Sirius glanced at the tapestry over his shoulder, at the seven generations of Blacks behind him. He gently squeezed (Y/N)’s hand. For the first time in his entire life, he felt the weight of carrying his name lift off him. He’d done his part to corrupt his bloodline. It was time for Sirius to focus on himself in a way that the shadows of his past never allowed him to, even in his schoolboy days with James. Being a Black was a part of who he was, and even a disowned Black deserved his long-overdue happiness.

Tagging: @strawberriesonsummer​

[j-amespotter]

★ seven - s. b.

“i still got love for you.” 

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

x. x. x.

Summary: Seven-year old Sirius Black lives in a haunted house and meets a girl who isn’t afraid to tell him so.

Genre/Warnings: slight angst/FLUFF, implied emotional abuse

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: honestly might write an alternate version of this with remus hehe. feedback is always appreciated! let me know if you want to be added to my taglist. 

masterlist

You didn’t know why you had to be there. You were used to following your parents as they networked around high society, but this did not feel like the dinner parties you had already attended. 

Their entryway was quite extravagant – at least that much you were used to. But the rooms were dark, so much so that you had to squint to see who was approaching you. No one seemed to care that the writing desk in the corner of the drawing room was rattling. You also couldn’t miss the serpent-engraved doorknobs. You stared up at your mother, who looked tortured and forced to be present. Your father was smiling and nodding at a colleague of his, but even he anxiously glanced over his shoulder toward the direction of the man who owned the property. Perhaps your opportunistic father was regretting dragging his wife and young daughter along on this particular venture. 

Mr. Black was a tall man with a perpetual frown on his face. You wondered what was there for your father to gain from interacting with such a scary-looking man… and his wife didn't seem much different. Mrs. Black towered over the group of ladies she was meant to be entertaining. You suppressed a shudder and were only just able to spot a tiny boy hiding behind her leg. He looked small and subservient. You were sure he was her son. You wondered what it would be like to live in a house like this… did they even let him play? Did he have any toys? 

There was only one other child present. From far away, this boy looked like the shorter one’s complete opposite. He was standing next to the refreshment table, staring out at the adults with a positively bored expression. You saw him reach for a pastry, only for an aging house-elf to slap his hand away. Then, he tugged at his tie irritably. You giggled. Did they even make ties that small? Slowly, you slipped your hand out of your mother’s and pattered toward him. 

“Hi,” you said, causing his head to snap in your direction. “Some party, isn’t it? That’s one mean house-elf.” 

“You don’t know the half of it…” he mumbled. 

You stood together in silence. You watched as his gaze wandered toward Mrs. Black and her son, still cowering behind her. “I’m (Y/N),” you finally said, breaking the oddly comfortable silence. 

“Sirius,” he said without looking at you. “How old are you?” 

“Seven and one-quarter,” you answered with a toothy grin. “What about you?” 

“Same, more or less. We’ll be at Hogwarts together.” Sirius paused. “What House will you be in?” 

You shrugged. “How would I know? That’s for the Sorting Hat to decide,” you chided matter-of-factly. 

“Your parents haven’t told you?” Despite the easiness of his demeanor, he failed to hide his surprise. 

“Haven’t told me what? What House I should be in? Merlin, no. My mum’s a Hufflepuff. Dad’s a Ravenclaw. They’ve never picked one over the other. I don’t think they care where I’d get Sorted into.”

“Lucky,” Sirius huffed. “My whole family’s been in Slytherin. They’ll throw a fit if I’m not.” 

“Maybe you’ll break tradition,” you said lightly. It was strange for someone who seemed rather undisturbed by their surroundings to look so angry. You couldn’t put your finger on what exactly he looked like he was feeling. “I think this house is haunted.” 

This caused him to pause his brooding and bark out a laugh. “You really think so? Not too far off, if I do say so myself.”

You raised an eyebrow but lowered your voice to a whisper. “It’s not funny! This house gives me the creeps. It’s so dark, too. Why is it so dark?! And do you see that writing desk in the corner? I swear, there’s a ghost in there.” 

Sirius was grinning. You found that you could stare at him smiling for hours… although, that was weird, and you totally wouldn’t do that. “I never noticed the writing desk.” 

“Well, they should get that checked out. And what’s with the snakes everywhere? We get it. You have a favorite animal,” you added sarcastically before whipping around to make sure no one heard your impolite comment. From across the room, you could see your mother tossing you a warning glance. Sending her a sheepish smile, you smoothed your dress and lowered your voice again. “Mr. and Mrs. Black don’t look like they’re fun people, that’s all.” 

“You got that right,” said Sirius, still grinning wide. “They’re my parents. This is my house.” 

You gasped. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry. Gosh, forget I said all of that,” you apologized, desperately trying to maintain a standing with this boy if you were meant to stay here for another hour at the least. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sirius responded. “I feel the same way. It’s horrible. They’re horrible.” He was whispering now and looked quite sad. You touched his shoulder, unsure of how to make him feel better.

You stood in silence for a while, surrounded only by the soft hum of activity around you, which was quickly fading into background noise. Your mind sifted through all the possible solutions you could offer him. “Why don’t you just run away?” 

Sirius snorted. “Where would I go?” 

“Dunno. Somewhere safe,” you suggested. “You can live with me. My parents aren’t too bad. They seem rather lovely compared to yours, actually.”

“Thanks, but I barely know you.” 

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could, you heard your father call you from a few feet away. “(Y/N), dear. Say goodbye. It’s time to go.” 

“Already?” Sirius looked upset. Proper upset. 

You wished you had a different response. “I suppose. Though, next time I come by, we can do something more fun.” 

“Next time?”

“Next time,” you repeated assuredly. 

He smiled at you again. You could see that he had a missing tooth. “I wish more people like you came to these things.” 

You grinned at the compliment before skipping back to where your parents were standing. 

Later on, in your own dining room, you were brushing your doll’s hair. If there was meant to be a dinner at the party, you and your family left before it. 

“I am never stepping foot in that house again,” your mother said to your father indignantly. “Dear, you should seriously reconsider the company you keep.” 

Your father looked tired, eyeing his wife with apprehension. “I don't disagree, darling. I only accepted the invitation out of courtesy. I don’t like the look of that family.” 

“We should be keeping (Y/N) away from these types of people,” said your mother, easing her tone when she realized her daughter was listening. 

You wanted to argue, but you knew your parents had closed the topic. Oh well, you thought to yourself. The Blacks had many mutual friends with your father; Sirius was bound to turn up at one of their many gatherings.

☆

You were wrong. You did not see Sirius again for another four years. Not until you were wide-eyed first-years in line for your Sorting ceremony. You hadn’t forgotten him, though. You wondered if you would be able to recognize Sirius after so many years. 

You didn’t have to wait long to catch a glimpse of him. He looked almost exactly the same if only a foot taller. He stood next to James Potter, whose father was a friend of your father’s. James paused his lively conversation with Sirius when he caught your eye and waved eagerly. 

Sirius turned when he lost James’s attention. His grey eyes met yours. You smiled at him, hoping he understood your recognition. He stared at you for a bit longer than a second before turning away, unresponsive. You frowned but shrugged off the snub.

You watched as he looked uncharacteristically nervous underneath the Sorting Hat, which after minutes of deliberation, yelled “GRYFFINDOR!” 

Despite his wide grin, you noticed his shoulders stiffen. You thought back to your conversation all those years ago. You were older now. You understood his family situation a bit better, although you could also argue that it was impossible to judge an entire dynamic based on one interaction. Still, he seemed adamant that he was expected to be a Slytherin. You wondered what that meant for his status as the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. 

You did not interact with each other again before your first day of classes. You sat in the front of the class in Transfiguration, watching as your fellow first-years sauntered into the room. Sirius walked in laughing alongside James. The two of them were closely followed by another pair of boys – Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. 

Most of the class, including you, laughed as James made a show of tripping over his own feet, landing right in front of the teacher’s desk. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, was not impressed. “I do not tolerate such antics, Mr. Potter. You have been warned. Please be seated.” 

James did not seem to pay much heed to the warning. McGonagall caught on and frowned at Sirius, who buckled over in laughter. With a stern glare, she led James to a desk on the opposite end of the room, leaving Sirius to sit right in front of her desk. Next to you. 

You were glad Sirius was in a jolly mood. As he sat next to you, however, a cold wave seemed to wash over him. You both watched in silence as McGonagall waved theory onto the chalkboard with her wand.

“Hi,” you greeted in a low voice. “I’m not sure if you remember me–”

“I remember you,” he interrupted coldly. 

“Oh.” You didn’t know how to continue after such an abrupt response. “Congratulations on making Gryffindor.” You turned away from him and stared ahead as McGonagall began her lecture.

At the end of class, you gathered your spare quills and made a beeline for the door. Sirius, on the other hand, began collecting his things much slower. He paused his movements ever-so-slightly. “Why didn’t you come back?” asked Sirius in a quiet voice. 

Whatever you expected from him, it wasn’t that. “W-What do you mean?” 

“You never came back.” He looked as if he meant to say more, but with one glance at James walking towards him, he decided against it. “Never mind.” He hoisted his bag over his shoulder and followed James out of the room, leaving you utterly flabbergasted by this exchange. 

☆

“You alright, mate?” 

Sixteen-year old Sirius Black sat on a desk in the Potters’ guest room, blank parchment in front of him. “Yeah. No. I don’t know… I will be, I guess. Do you have any ink?” 

James looked concerned but knew his best friend well enough to understand that he had what he needed from him, and now what he needed was to be alone. “In the drawer. Good night, mate.” 

“Good night.” 

He eyed the Potter family owl, who eyed him back from the windowsill. Sighing, he forced himself to put the quill to parchment. 

Dear (Y/N), 

I know this may seem like a surprise. We’re in the same year, but we don’t talk much. I don’t even know where you live, actually, but I hope this owl will find you. It’s James’s owl… he’s a bit dim. So you might not even get this. It might be better that way. I just need to get this out. 

I did it. I finally ran away. I know we were just kids back then, still are, in fact. But I guess what you said really stuck with me. I still remember it. You said to go ‘somewhere safe.’ I’m at James’s house. It’s where I feel safe. 

I don’t know if you care or if you even remember. But I’m alright. I feel good. That house was haunted enough, no ghosts required. 

Anyway, write back soon. Or don’t. It’s up to you.

- Sirius Black 

☆

Dear Sirius, 

I’m glad to hear you’re well and that you’re safe. Trust me, I remember all of it. 

The owl is sweet. Knocked himself out on my window… might take a few days to get back to you. James lives quite far. And your letter was certainly a surprise, though a welcome one!

I wanted to apologize for… standing you up, if that’s what you want to call it? Believe me, I would’ve loved to see you again. But we never crossed paths since that day until school, and mind you, we were only children. I still feel terrible, though. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you. 

Do write back. Perhaps we can meet up later in the summer. Give my best to James and his family.

- (Y/N) 

☆

It was a hot August day. Sirius waited outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, where James and his father were browsing new broomstick models. He felt a gentle tap on his shoulder and couldn’t help the goofy grin that made its way onto his face. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Oh yeah. It’s almost as if we haven’t been talking about it for weeks,” you teased. 

“Writing,” corrected Sirius, “not talking.”

“Right. Talking requires seeing each other. In the flesh. We’re just penpals. Though, I find it equally romantic.” 

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Romantic?” Yes, it was true. You wrote to each other regularly, each letter getting more and more flirtatious. Sirius was impatiently awaiting his trip to Diagon Alley, even rearranging Mr. Potter’s schedule so the two of you could shop for your school books at the same time. 

“You don’t think so?” He could’ve sworn you were on your tippy-toes because he felt your eyelashes flutter against his skin.

“Well, if you say so.” Sirius leaned in, barely touching your lips before you lightly shoved his chest away. 

“Not yet, silly,” you said, laughing. “Treat me to ice cream first.”

“Unfair,” Sirius whined as you dragged him towards Florean’s.

You offered him a fleeting kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got to test it out. Are we actually dating? Or am I just charmed by your penmanship?” 

“Alright, alright...” conceded Sirius, “I’ve waited nearly ten years anyway.” 

Taglist: @iwritesiriusly @mads-bri @she-seeks-magic @sarcasticallywitty15 @lunalovecroft @fific7

[j-amespotter]

★ the 1 - r. l.

“you know the greatest loves of all time are over now.”

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

x. x. x.

Summary: The year is 1995. Lord Voldemort has returned. Albus Dumbledore recalls the Order of the Phoenix, giving two former lovers the chance to reconnect and reflect on the circumstances that tore them apart.

Genre/Warnings: angst, alcohol, mentions of death Word Count: ~1k

A/N: happy new year! eek! my first ever one-shot. not my favorite, but do let me know what you think. i also tried to make the reader gender neutral... let me know if there’s anything i have to fix! 

masterlist

“It means a lot that you came. It has been an awfully long time.”

It scared you, how familiar the specks of gold in his eyes looked. Fourteen years did a lot to the both of you, him more than you. It was as if looking at him reminded you of how much time passed between the two of you, how old you actually were. “I’ve been keeping busy,” you said tentatively, “but I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“At least that much remains unchanged.” His tone was heavy. You never liked it that way. He took everything far too seriously. 

“Not much for small talk, Professor Lupin?” you teased. 

“How did–” “I heard rumblings. I’m sure you made an excellent teacher,” you complimented. Despite the mischievous glint on your face, your words were sincere. 

“I can’t speak to that, I’m afraid. Though I am sure you heard why my tenure was cut short…” 

You couldn’t miss the faint flush on his cheeks, characteristic of when the conversation steered toward his condition. You sipped your wine to make time to gather your thoughts. “I wish you could see yourself the way I did… do. The way I do.”

He swallowed slowly, staring at your feet. “There’s no use crying over spilt milk,” he finally said. “It’s a Muggle expression. I find it quite amusing.” 

You spotted a cobweb on the aged chandelier dangling above you. “I didn’t just come here for the Order, you know. Remus, I… I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. This could be our chance! We’re older now, wiser. Well, I’m not. But you are, I’m sure of it! When Sirius reached out–” 

“Stop,” he interrupted shakily. “Don’t open this up again, (Y/N)… not with Lord Voldemort practically on our doorstep. The Order did more to tear us apart than bring us together.” The words were unspoken, but you heard them anyway. What makes you think this time’ll be any different? 

You found yourself thinking bitterly of the Auror girl in the dining room, with her youthful eyes and bubblegum-pink hair, who smiled at Remus in a way that was so achingly familiar it could be a mirror image. “The Order’s bringing some people together. Trust me on that.” 

Oh, Remus. So reserved yet so predictable. He frowned innocently at your insinuation. “I am not interested in anything but the defeat of Lord Voldemort and… and protecting Harry Potter.” 

“Remus, please.” Your tone dripped of desperation, as if you were begging a brick wall. “I think it’s fate, seeing each other again. Aren’t you tired of being alone?” 

“Creatures like me are meant to be alone.” He said it so matter-of-factly that if you weren’t you, you would not argue. “You’re not a bloody monster, Remus Lupin! You are a living, breathing human. You’re the boy who brought me sweets in the library, danced with me in the rain, passed love notes to me in Charms class… you’re the man who gave up your all to spy for the people you loved. That list once included me.” You were breathless. It was as if you rehearsed it. 

“Lower your voice,” hushed Remus sternly. You felt like an admonished student, but said nothing. “You know why I had to end it. Perhaps it was youth, or naiveté, or just plain idiocy that I was able to kid myself into believing I had a future with you.” 

You gently stroked his arm, ignoring the way he flinched. “I know you were hurting, Remus. Believe me, I was too. We were the only two left standing. I needed you. No one else but you.” 

“You deserve better than a low-life like me. In this world I am worth nothing. I wish you would understand,” said Remus sadly. 

Déjà vu. That was what it was. This utter hopelessness. The way you pleaded with him for several November nights in a row fourteen years earlier. His refusal to meet your eyes.  All was as it was. 

“So is that it? Am I just supposed to come here and pretend like everything’s fine?” 

“A noble sacrifice.” His response sounded like a lot of things – sarcastic, cold, pained. Muddled, just like you both were. “We have a job to do. This is no longer fun and games.” 

It never was, you wanted to yell. Not for you and me. 

You and Remus were lying in your bed, his lanky frame practically devouring yours, his long legs hovering off of it. Your forehead nuzzled against his chin, grazing his faint stubble. 

“We’re really doing this?” Despite the question, your voice betrayed not a single inkling of uncertainty. 

“I suppose so,” he answered thoughtfully. He was always so careful with his words. 

Eighteen was a weird age. Last week, you were students. Tomorrow, you will be soldiers. 

The wonderful thing about Remus was that though he was prone to self-pity, he was exceptionally certain about his choices when he needed to be. He also had a way with words that were guaranteed to comfort you. “Are you scared?”

He did not answer immediately. “A little. But it’s my only option. Our only option.” 

His response seemed to reinvigorate the fire brewing within you. Sighing contentedly, you kissed him. For all intents and purposes, it was your last kiss – at least, your last innocent kiss, last comfortable kiss, last fearless kiss. 

Life no longer allowed for such reachable happiness. His greying hair and visible frown lines were a testament to that. 

He seemed to sense your defeat and reacted to it with nearly-undetectable remorse. In an oddly tender moment, his large hand cupped your cheek. “If only I wasn’t so afflicted…” 

You wanted to tell him that the monster inside of him wasn’t the wolf, but it was no longer your place to say such things. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He frowned but did not stop you as you walked away. As you blinked back tears, you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. Whipping around, you were only slightly disappointed to see another fragment of your past, older but now more than a mere memory. “Give it time,” whispered Sirius. 

You opened your mouth to speak, though a scene caught your attention from over his shoulder. You heard a low chuckle, belonging to none other than Remus Lupin, gazing distantly at a flash of pink tripping over a conveniently-placed umbrella stand. “Yeah,” you said to your old friend, “maybe you’re right.”

[j-amespotter]

★ august [pt. 2] - s. b.

“i never needed anything more.”

Pairing: Sirius Black x Slytherin!Reader, Regulus Black x Slytherin!Reader 

x. x. x.

Summary: As one of the Order of the Phoenix’s freshest recruits, love certainly was not on Sirius Black’s mind the summer after he finished school – especially not with a Slytherin, who just happened to be his brother’s girlfriend. 

Genre/Warnings: angst/fluff, infidelity, mentions of torture, war, & sex. 

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: by popular demand... part 2 of august! let me know what you think & if you’d like to be added to my taglist! posts will be slower because i’m back at uni

masterlist

PART 1

It was a cold, snowy day in the village. The streets bustled with young passersby. They huddled together with flushed cheeks and dopey grins, reveling in their distance from stingy professors and half-written essays. The line for butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks wrapped around the street. The scene was all-too-familiar for the raven-haired troublemaker and his bespectacled companion hidden in a dark alleyway behind the Hog’s Head.

“Think we can sneak to Rosmerta’s for a butterbeer?” asked James, nudging his best friend with his elbow. “She’d let us jump the line.” 

Sirius rolled his eyes and snorted. “Yes, that would help the whole ‘lying low’ thing, wouldn’t it?”

James raised a concerned eyebrow at Sirius. “I thought you’d be up for it,” he said with an edge in his voice. 

“We’re on a mission,” snapped Sirius. “Let’s just hope nothing is waiting for us so we can get out of here.” 

“You’re jumpy,” grumbled James in response. “Mate, you didn’t have to come if it was going to bother you.” 

“I’m not bothered,” said Sirius defensively. “Focus, Prongs. Suspected Death Eater activity in Hogsmeade Village. We need to wait it out and hope for the best.” 

James shrugged, though he looked like he wanted to say more. The two men turned the corner and peered through the window of Dervish and Banges on the lookout for hellish masked figures that were quickly becoming the bane of Sirius’s existence. 

It had been four months since the summer Sirius’s life changed. His world lost the little color it had, and unfortunately, his friends were bearing the brunt of his moodiness. Sirius knew it was unfair. It was not James’s fault he was scorned by a cold, conniving snake of a woman, who showed him more love than he knew what to do with and then snatched it away without a second thought. 

It was bad enough they were there on a Hogsmeade weekend. He knew you were most likely somewhere in the village, probably in Regulus’s arms, shielding yourself from the cold. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, one he decidedly ignored as he turned to his partner-in-crime. “We should split up,” said Sirius. “Get under the Cloak and keep an eye on the station. I’ll do a walk-through. I’ll call you from the mirror if I see anything.” He gestured to his jacket pocket. 

After bidding James goodbye and good luck, Sirius made sure to lay low as he sifted through the snow-covered streets. Though he recognized some of his former classmates, he did not stop to greet them. He was not the type to let his personal life tear his eyes away from the prize. What frightened him was how difficult it was proving to be. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius spotted movement across the hill through the shattered glass window of the Shrieking Shack. Frowning, he pulled up his hood and jogged towards the disturbance. 

When he was safely away from the crowd, Sirius crouched behind a bush next to the house, close enough to hear vaguely-familiar voices – at least two. He inhaled a gust of cold air warily, feeling his heartbeat pick up at rapid speed. No one except the four Marauders ever dared to enter the Shrieking Shack. Who could these intruders be if not Death Eaters? Sirius’s fingers grazed the mirror shard tucked away in his pocket. Should he call James for help? 

Suddenly, he heard faint, quiet sobs from inside. On instinct, he jerked his body slightly upward and transformed into Padfoot. Taking soft steps forward on four legs, Sirius expertly stepped over a creaky floorboard. He remained hidden in the shadows, facing the back of a tall, skinny figure, whose scent overwhelmed his canine senses with the soiled flavor of repressed memories. 

When the stranger spoke, Padfoot winced at the tauntingly grim echo in his eardrums. “Stop crying, darling. It’s pathetic,” said Regulus. 

“H-How could you just…” you said nasally, unable to finish. Sirius felt his heart sink as he heard your broken, empty words. It was your voice that haunted his dreams, and there you were, looking cold and miserable, merely ten feet away from him. 

“You’re wasting your tears, (Y/N). She’s filth. She deserved it.” 

You looked indignant, raising an accusatory finger at your boyfriend. “N-No one deserves torture for who they are,” you said shakily.

Regulus sighed. “Honestly, you’re acting as if we killed her. She’ll be fine. Besides, I didn’t do anything to her. If I knew it would have bothered you, I wouldn’t have stayed.” 

“You just watched, Reg! You watched your dreadful friends torture that poor girl! Why? Because she’s Muggleborn? Why didn’t you let me stop them?” 

“They did stop,” answered Regulus heatedly. “They stopped for you. You should be more careful. If it weren’t for me, they would be spreading some nasty rumors about you. If I didn’t know any better, I would call you a blood traitor.” 

You scoffed. Sirius, still in dog form, shuffled to the side and hid under a scratched table. Emotions were high, so his swift movement remained unnoticed. 

Regulus strode toward you and placed his gloved hands on your shoulders. “Forgive me, (Y/N). I know how sensitive you can get.” 

You sniffled. “It’s not about being sensitive, Regulus. It’s about right and wrong! You know they would have killed her, you know it! The worst part is that you would have let them, and it doesn’t even surprise me anymore.” 

“What has gotten into you? I know you prefer to stay away from conflict, but you’ve been skittish for quite a while now,” said Regulus, dropping his hands off of you.

You were quiet. With one glance at your glossy eyes, Sirius knew what was going to happen before it did. “I have to tell you something. I did something bad.” 

The selfish part of Sirius wanted this. He wanted exactly this. But there was a sinking feeling in his chest, seeing it happen right before his eyes. He attempted to telepathically will you to stop talking, but it was too late. Regulus stared at you expectantly. 

“Last summer I… I was with someone else. I cheated on you, Reg,” you cried.

Sirius’s normally-reserved brother could not contain the shock dripping from his voice. “What?” 

“Regulus, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I swear!” 

“How could you?” snapped Regulus. “I let you stand here and scold me over my activities as if you have the moral high ground between us! You had an affair? With whom?” 

You looked pained. “Don’t make me say it, Reg. Just know how sorry–” 

“With whom?” 

“W-With your brother, Regulus. With Sirius.” His name sounded like a melody on your tongue. Sirius held his breath, swallowing the emotion pooling inside of him. 

“What? My brother? You had an affair with my brother?” Regulus looked as though he was about to strike. Sirius bent his front legs, ready to pounce. “Did you sleep with him?” 

You turned away, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Did you sleep with him?” 

You nodded slowly. It was as if you were carrying the weight of a thousand bricks. 

Regulus ran his hand through his hair. He paced the length of the room, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Okay,” he said after a tense silence, “we can fix this. I don’t blame you; I know how my brother is. You can be so gullible. He tricked you into sleeping with him. I was away for so long. You were upset. I can forgive you. We can move past this.”

You stared up at him, wild-eyed. “W-We can?” 

“Yes, we can,” said Regulus. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I forgive you.”

“I don’t think I can,” you said slowly, lifting your eyes to gaze directly into his. 

“What do you mean?” 

You wiped away your tears hastily. “I tried so hard, Reg. I tried so hard to forget him, but I can’t. I’m in love with him.” 

Sirius nearly yelped in giddy shock. She’s in love with me. (Y/N) loves me, not him. She loves me, not him, and he knows. 

Regulus had an unreadable expression on his face. “You’re in love with him? So all those years between us, they mean nothing to you?” 

“Not at all,” you argued. “I love you so much, Reg. But you aren’t the same anymore. You’re hurting me.” 

“Don’t you dare blame this on me,” said Regulus angrily. “You did this! You’re the one that slept with my brother!” 

“I’m telling you, it’s not like that! It wasn’t just sex. I went to him for help. I went to him for you,” you said. “It wasn’t on purpose. I never meant to hurt you. But I can’t pretend anymore. I’m in love with him.” 

Regulus was seething in a characteristically quiet way. “My brother,” he spat, “cares for no one but himself. I am sure you two will be perfect for each other. We are done.” With that, he spun around and walked out of the Shrieking Shack, slamming the door behind him. 

You fell on your knees, sobbing into your hands. Your soft whimpers broke Sirius’s heart into pieces. He poked his head out from under the table and pawed his way toward you. You looked up and gasped in fright. Sirius had forgotten about Padfoot’s unnaturally large size. Gently, he nudged your leg with his snout. “Sorry, you had to see all of that.” You buried your face into your knees. “Are you the big, bad wolf in this joint?” 

Before he could combust at your innocence, Sirius jerked upward again and balanced himself on two feet. “Nope, but he’s a friend of mine,” he joked softly. 

Your head snapped up. You jumped in complete surprise. “Sirius! What are you doing here?” You stared at a spot on the ground. “Are you an Animagus?” 

“To answer your second question, yes,” said Sirius hurriedly, wanting more than anything to skip the small talk, “and to answer your first, this is almost like a second home to me. How did you know about the wolf?” 

You looked at him in awe, then shriveled backward in shame. “Severus Snape spread some awful rumors when you all were at school.” You couldn’t meet his eyes. “Sirius…”

Sirius took tentative steps toward you. “No more lies,” he whispered. “Are you really in love with me?”

You stared into his grey eyes. “Yes,” you said in a hushed whisper. “I’m in love with you, Sirius. And I’m so sorry about what I said that day. I was scared. I know it’s no excuse, but it’s the truth.” 

In an instant, Sirius felt warmth rush up his body. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you without a second thought. To his utter delight, you kissed him back hungrily. Your arms wrapped around his waist, inhaling his musky scent. “I never stopped thinking about you,” he whispered against your lips. 

You smiled sadly. “Me neither. But how can we possibly be together?”

“Well, you’ll be home for Christmas soon,” said Sirius. 

“That’s only for a few weeks,” you argued. 

Sirius kissed your cheek. “It’s plenty of time. Plus, I can get into the castle whenever I want.” 

You looked skeptical. “How?”

“I have my ways,” said Sirius. “I’m never letting you go again.” 

You felt tears prick at your eyes. “How am I supposed to go back? To face all of them again?” 

“They wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you, not under the teachers’ noses,” said Sirius, mostly to assure himself. “Stay away from Regulus, too.” 

“Easier said than done,” you said. “They dragged some poor Muggleborn third-year here just to torture her. You don’t even know what they get up to at school.” 

Sirius pulled you into a tight embrace. He felt a tingle in his jacket. Pulling out the shard, he met a very familiar pair of hazel eyes. “Is everything okay? Did you find anything?” asked James. 

Sirius pulled away from you. “Yes, everything’s fine. I've searched the whole village. It was just a few Slytherin sixth-years, but they’re gone now. I’ll meet you there.” 

With a nod, James vanished. 

You tugged on his sleeve. “What was that? You have to go?”

Sirius made a motion to pocket the mirror, glancing at it thoughtfully before doing so. After a quick moment, he shoved it in your direction. “Here, keep this. It’s a way for you to call me at school. Whenever you need me, don’t hesitate.”

You paused. “Are you sure? What about James?” 

“He won’t mind,” assured Sirius. “Promise me you’ll use it. Even if you only want to talk.” 

Smiling, you pulled him into another kiss. “Definitely.” 

Sirius feared letting go, though he wasn’t afraid you would walk away again. He wasn’t sure what his brother and his friends would do. “I’ll see you soon, love. Don’t worry too much. You’re Sirius Black’s girl.” 

“That I am, darling. For as long as I can help it.”

Taglist: @iwritesiriusly @mads-bri @she-seeks-magic @sarcasticallywitty15 @lunalovecroft @fific7 @lindatreb @u-no-poo @justmesadgirl 

[j-amespotter]

header image: x

a series of one-shots about the marauders loosely-based on folklore by taylor swift. 

main masterlist

the 1 {remus lupin x reader} 

the year is 1995. lord voldemort has returned. albus dumbledore recalls the order of the phoenix, giving two former lovers the chance to reconnect and reflect on the circumstances that tore them apart. 

cardigan {sirius black x reader} 

your relationship with sirius is on the rocks, but you loved him and at the end of the day, he was always there. for your own happiness, something had to change. 

the last great american dynasty {sirius black x muggle-born!reader}

a one-shot diving into sirius’s complicated relationship with grimmauld place and where the muggle-born he falls for fits in.

exile {sirius black x reader}

sirius is caught in the middle of a quarrel between two lovers; au where harry is raised by his godmother.

my tears ricochet {sirius black x reader}

after the fateful battle of the department of mysteries, a familiar face visits you in a nightmare. 

mirrorball {james potter x gryffindor!reader}

james potter has only ever had one girl on his mind. you’ve always known that. you decide it’s time for a new haircut. 

seven {sirius black x reader}

seven-year old sirius black lives in a haunted house and meets a girl who isn’t afraid to tell him so.

august {sirius black x slytherin!reader} pt. 1 pt. 2

as one of the order of the phoenix’s freshest recruits, love certainly was not on sirius black’s mind the summer after he finished school – especially not with a slytherin, who just happened to be his brother’s girlfriend.  

this is me trying {remus lupin x reader}

after the life-altering events of 1981, remus begins to heal. sometimes, the smallest gestures make the biggest difference.

illicit affairs {james potter x reader}

having shared a passionate moment on the eve of his wedding, you begin to reconsider your long-standing arrangement with james.

invisible string {sirius black x reader}

as you suffer from a recent heartbreak, sirius helps you realize that you were with the wrong guy all along.

mad woman {sirius black x death eater!reader}

sentenced to life in prison for a crime he did not commit, sirius reunites with an ex who joined the dark side and finally gets the answers he’s been looking for.

epiphany {remus lupin}

throughout his life, remus fought many battles. only once was he ever on the brink of victory. 

betty {james potter x reader}

peace {james potter x lily evans}

hoax {sirius black x reader}

the lakes {james potter x lily evans}

**crossed out = unwritten, coming soon

**unlinked = written, coming soon

[j-amespotter]

★ this is me trying - r. l.

“i had the shiniest wheels, now they’re rusting.”

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

x. x. x. 

Summary: After the life-altering events of 1981, Remus begins to heal. Sometimes, the smallest gestures make the biggest difference.

Genre/Warnings: angst/kinda fluffy at the end, alcoholism, depression, mentions of war & death

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist. feedback is always appreciated :) reader is gender neutral. 

masterlist

You wrapped your fingers around a cup of tea, sipping it slowly, staring out of your window with a blank expression. It was easy to ignore the searing pain of the scalding heat on your hand. You clutched the mug tighter in an attempt to feel something. Lately, it hardly made a difference.

Numb. That was the only word you could use to describe your life now. Your modest flat now felt like a hollow cave, symbolic of very bitter reality.

You wished you appreciated how fine everything was before. Sure, you lived every day in fear of your life, but you knew you were fighting for the right cause. The darkest wizard to walk the earth targeted your best friends and their innocent child, but you knew they were safe. You lived every day without the love of your life, but you knew he was yours. It wasn’t perfect, but it was fine. It was enough. 

There was a soft knock on your door. Closing your eyes, you sighed. It was easier to pretend you didn’t hear it. It was easier to keep the door closed. 

You couldn’t ignore it for too long. The knocker was persistent. The taps on the door echoed your racing heart. Instinctively, you eyed your wand on the coffee table. Only a few months had passed since the Dark Lord’s downfall, but Death Eaters still wandered the streets. You were urged to remain vigilant, but not a single part of you cared anymore. There was nothing left to live for. Besides, without James, Lily, Sirius, Peter, or Remus, why would they come after you? 

Regardless, a small part of you sustained a sense of self-preservation. Your wand dangled noncommittally from your fingers as you approached the door, dreading to see whoever was on the other side. 

You gasped. Your boyfriend looked almost exactly as you remembered him. His robes were torn at the edges and he was sporting a full beard. His eyes were wide, flowing with emotion. “(Y/N)...” he croaked. 

Moments passed between the both of you, the silence weighing heavier as time went on. “Hello, Remus,” you said softly, meeting his eyes for barely a second before having to turn away. 

“Can I come in?” asked Remus weakly. He peered over your shoulder at the home that was once his. 

Wordlessly, you stepped aside. Remus took tentative steps forward, scanning the room almost out of habit. “It looks as if nothing’s changed.” 

“But everything has,” you countered. 

You heard his sharp intake of breath. Perhaps he was surprised by your directness, but you weren’t in the mood for small talk. With Remus Lupin, nothing ever happened without a reason. You were itching to find out why he returned. Why, after everything that happened last time, did he come back? 

“I just wanted to talk,” he whispered. “There is so much to say.”

“Not on my end,” you responded cuttingly. “I would offer you something to drink, but I’m afraid I don’t have anything that fits your tastes.” 

Remus swallowed thickly, pausing before answering. “I haven’t… I haven’t been drinking these days.” 

You raised your eyebrows in genuine surprise. “Oh. That’s…” Good? Strange? You settled with “different.”

He looked down in shame. “Water is fine.” 

Feeling slightly guilty at your lack of hospitality, you forced a smile. “How about some tea?” 

With all the strength he could muster, Remus returned your smile. “If it’s not an inconvenience.”

“Not at all.”

☆

It was odd, seeing him sitting on his sofa, sipping his tea, from his mug, in his flat. You never thought nostalgia could hurt so much. You and Remus sat ten feet apart, in the same room but worlds away. It was as if you were old acquaintances, not lovers. 

“So, where have you been staying?” you asked, unsure if you wanted to know the answer. 

His hesitation was so readable. “Here and there,” he answered vaguely. 

“Meaning nowhere,” you deciphered. “Why?” 

Remus sighed. “There is no place in our world for someone like me.” 

“That’s not true,” you argued. “Your place was here. With me.” 

He stared at you with a dazed, innocent expression. “Was?” asked Remus, instantly widening his eyes regretfully. 

You could tell that he lost his grip over his words. A part of you didn’t want to interrupt him. You wanted to hear the truth for once but decided to spare him the trouble. “Was,” you repeated firmly. “You told me I wasn’t worth staying. How can I forgive that?” 

Remus looked pained. “You shouldn’t, I know… but I came here to apologize anyway. I was a fool… I was drunk, stupid. You name it.”

“Remus, I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I was here for you. I wanted to help. But that night, you said all those things. Look at me, Remus. It killed me.” 

Tears were streaming down his face. “I am so sorry. So, so sorry. You have no idea. It was more hurt than I have ever felt. It was more than I have ever suffered, losing them…” he trailed off, fists clenched, gazing resolutely at his feet. “I’m angry with myself. I was the one living with the pack. Dumbledore sent me away to stop something like this from happening. I should have seen it coming… and I should have been here. I should have saved them all… James, Lily, Peter… from him.” 

You didn’t ask who he was referring to. Tentatively, you touched his shoulder. He winced, but thankfully, did not pull away. You pressed a gentle kiss on his temple. “None of us saw it coming,” you said softly. 

Remus shook in your arms. “Please forgive me,” he breathed between sobs. “I shouldn’t have left you. I know that now. I was horrible to you… I know I have no right, but–”

Clutching his trembling body, you hushed him. “It’s alright, Remus. I forgive you. I love you and… and you’re supposed to forgive the people you love.” 

He gasped in mangled surprise and relief. “God, I love you. You are more than I deserve, angel.” His fingers trailed up your arm, almost as if he was asking your permission. With the receipt of an almost imperceptible nod, he leaned in closer, pressing his lips against yours. 

You practically melted into him, surprised at the way your utter delight trumped the conflicting emotions swimming in your mind. He left… but he was here. He came back! His kiss felt like patching a deep wound, and slowly, you felt a floating feeling of recovery in your heart. Still, there was a lot left to discuss. You tore yourself away from him before succumbing to primal instinct. “Remus, things have to change. You can’t just walk away. I won’t be able to take it.” 

“There is not much I can do for you. I doubt I will ever be able to do enough. But I am here, my love, that is all I can do. Never again,” he pledged, and with one look in his eyes, you knew it was true.  

“That’s more than enough, darling.”

He came back.

Taglist: @iwritesiriusly @mads-bri @she-seeks-magic @sarcasticallywitty15 @thesimpforfredweasleyclub​

[j-amespotter]

★ epiphany – r. l.

"with you, i serve. with you, i fall down."

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Nymphadora Tonks (if you squint)

x. x.

Summary: Throughout his life, Remus fought many battles. Only once was he ever on the brink of victory.

Genre/Warnings: angst, war, death, torture, mentions of lycanthropy

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: i'm officially on summer break, so expect more writing from me!! this one actually took a lot of time and effort so please share your feedback. not a reader insert, just some canon character insight. i think about remus's last moments a lot :( let me know if you'd like to be added to my taglist!

masterlist

1978 - With you, I serve.

The moon was bright but not quite full. It shone on two boys, both fresh out of school and on the precipice of becoming men. As much as they tried to deny it, there was an aura of naiveté surrounding them, one that would soon deteriorate beyond their imaginations.

“Come here,” said Remus Lupin, a tall, tired boy, tugging his companion’s sleeve. “Behind the bushes.”

“It’s child’s play, this job. What’s Dumbledore playing at?”

Remus was paired up with James Potter, who was growing more and more impatient by the second. “Prongs, we are trainees. We’re lucky to have an assignment at all.”

The two friends were seated on a small hill overlooking a large, dreary house. It belonged to the Travers family, a family notoriously pureblood, notoriously Slytherin. A family most likely in league with the greatest threat to the Wizarding World in several decades—Lord Voldemort.

The severity of the situation remained unspoken between them. If caught, James and Remus would be killed within seconds. Remus silently wished he shared James’s conviction regarding the ultimate invincibility of the right cause. But there was something inside of him that would remain unconvinced for a long time.

“There’s no way Travers isn’t a Death Eater,” said James. “I say we attack. They know we’re careful. They’ll never see it coming.”

“Perhaps,” said Remus. “Although, I doubt they are unprepared. Stealth is the only path to success.”

James snorted. “Okay, Professor Moony.” Years later, the same voice on a nearly-identical face would be addressing him in the same manner, with an amount of long-faced sincerity that would destroy him. But Remus did not know that yet.

After a while, Remus broke the comfortable silence between them simply because of a lingering curiosity manifesting within him. “Do you really think we can win this?”

James turned toward him. When he spoke, Remus thought he sounded a little scandalized. “Of course I do. And even if we don’t, there isn’t a single part of me that won’t die trying.”

Remus hummed, though he could feel the hesitation brewing inside of him, the same hesitation he found himself constantly suppressing around his friends. It was not as though he didn’t share the same sentiment; that wasn’t the case at all. It felt blasphemous to let his thoughts wander at times, but he couldn’t help himself. The truth was loud and clear. Remus was fighting this war for those who wouldn't do the same for him.

Something about the setting and the shape of the moon kept him lost in his muddled thoughts. “Why did you become an Animagus?”

James looked slightly taken aback, running a hand through his hair. “You know why.”

“Indulge me.”

“Because, Remus, we care about you. We wanted to help you,” said James. “We still want to help you.”

“You have done more than enough, James.” And it was true. James Potters didn’t exist in the real world, and that was a fact that was becoming blazingly clear the longer Remus spent in it.

There was nothing more to be said after that. James only sighed, staring out with a strangely thoughtful expression. “You know something?”

“What?”

“Think I’m going to ask Lily to marry me.”

Remus swallowed. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” said James. “I haven’t told anyone.”

Remus found that hard to believe. “Not even Sirius?”

“No, not even Sirius. Just thought of it, actually. Besides, something tells me Sirius would laugh in my face.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” said Remus, though it was always hard to tell with Sirius. The idea of James getting married sounded so far-fetched, and yet, made more sense to him than anything ever had in his entire life.

“So, what do you think?”

What did he think? Honestly, he felt a twinge of envy that James had someone to propose to, that he didn’t have to think twice about it, that in all likelihood, when this war ended, James would live a long, happy, healthy life with his wife and enough children to form his own Quidditch team. “I think that you definitely should.”

James’s face broke out into a wide grin, one that made Remus feel warm inside. One that told Remus that it wasn’t actually a whim, that James had been thinking about it for weeks, and that when it came to Lily, he always seemed to turn to Remus. It was a bittersweet sentiment, but one that he had come to appreciate.

“Guess I’ll need to figure out who my best man will be,” mused James.

Remus rolled his eyes. “She hasn’t even said yes yet, Prongs.”

James harrumphed. “Of course she’ll say yes to becoming Mrs. Arrogant Toerag.” He puffed out his chest dramatically, only to lose his balance and fall forward into the bushes. “Wow, we really suck at this whole ‘stealth’ thing, don’t we?”

“Shut it, will you?” whispered Remus, though if he had known how few moments he had left to share with James, he wouldn’t have reprimanded him at all.

Suddenly, a scream coming from the direction of the house interrupted them.

“What was that?” asked James. Both boys had their wands at the ready.

“They’re torturing someone,” said Remus, suppressing a shudder. He winced at the sound of another piercing scream, one that shredded his insides with every resounding decibel.

James began to rise. “We have to go in and help them.”

Instantly, Remus grabbed his arm and pulled him down. “James, we can’t. We will blow our cover, we’re likely completely outnumbered, and we were told to call reinforcements if anything got serious. We are trainees, remember?” When James begrudgingly slunk down next to him, Remus nudged him again. “Send a Patronus to the Prewetts.”

As James retreated several yards into the woods to conjure his great silvery stag, Remus turned his attention back to the house in front of them. After hearing another scream, he was beginning to lose his nerve. We can win this, Remus chanted to himself like a sacred mantra. We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

Three years later, wizards all over Britain would celebrate their victory over the Dark Lord. But with three dead friends and one a murderous traitor, Remus Lupin would have nothing to celebrate. And he wouldn’t for a very long time, not until he stared into a pair of startlingly green eyes in a train compartment several years later.

1998 - With you, I fall down.

His heart raced as he watched the silver dome shatter around the castle. A swarm of dark, hooded figures made their way towards them. With one hand over the photograph in his pocket, Remus thought of Teddy—his vibrant, turquoise hair, his soft coos, and the sparkly eyes that looked just like his own.

We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

It is different now, he thought to himself, I have Harry. A son. A wife. For the first time in his life, Remus Lupin had a proper family.

We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

He was able to see his reflection on a window. Under all the worry pooling his features, Remus saw the ghost of a smile that looked so achingly familiar— the weary but indestructible smile of a new father, the one he last saw during his final moments with James many, many years ago.

He thought of Dora, who, despite his desperate pleas, followed him to Hogwarts to fight what was beginning to feel like the end. After he righteously begged her to return to safety, she scoffed teasingly. “Honestly, Remus. You should know better.”

She was right, and there was nothing more to say. She kissed him hard before they went their separate ways for the last time. Remus weaved through crowds of warriors, gaze wandering from time to time for a glimpse of either his wife or his young protege. Any sign that Dora and Harry were alright would ease his ever-growing nerves.

We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

He thought of a late-night in his dormitory. It was the end of his seventh year. The four Marauders were sitting on each of their four-poster beds, picturing this moment, having no idea what was to come, just the confidence that it would and that they would win.

“I think it’ll be at the Ministry,” said Sirius.

“Or Diagon Alley,” said Remus thoughtfully.

“With Dumbledore leading the charge,” added James, a note of excitement in his voice. “I’d give anything to see the end of him.”

“Me too,” grumbled Sirius, struggling to hide the bitterness lacing every word. It had only struck Remus then that Sirius would be fighting his own flesh and blood on the other side. He knew better than to mention it.

“We could die,” said Peter quietly.

“We could,” affirmed James. “But I have a good feeling about it. It’ll be our moment, lads.”

Remus had only heard of Wormtail's death from Bill, who heard it from Harry. Peter, so afraid of death, so willing to do anything to avoid it, killed by his own hand. The last of his friends to go. In his wildest dreams, Remus would have never thought that he would be the last Marauder standing. Alone.

But he wasn’t alone. Not anymore. He had Dora, Teddy, and Harry. Harry, brilliant Harry, the Boy Who Lived, the boy who, unbeknownst to him, changed Remus’s life. The boy who would carry out his father's dream. The boy who would win this for them all.

We can win this. We can win this. We can win this.

Remus heaved a tired sigh. His legs felt as though they were about to give out. Despite his unique set of skills, Remus spent more time sickly than able. Especially now, nearing the age of forty. No longer did he have the agility or stamina of his youth.

He was in the center of the fighting in the courtyard. Suddenly, Remus felt a sinking, silencing feeling inside of him. Swallowing it away, he turned around, grip on his wand accidentally loosening for the quickest second.

The man in front of him was smirking, a forthcoming light blinding any identifying features. Remus's wand slipped from his fingers.

The last thing he saw was green, consuming his vision like a swarm of Dementors closing in on him. The spell hit him squarely in the chest.

He always wondered what death would feel like, often equating it with the debilitating pain of his monthly transformations. But it wasn't like that at all. Death was like falling. An eternal, endless fall into nothingness.

Moments away from victory, Remus Lupin fell down.

Mischief Managed.

Taglist: @iwritesiriusly @sheismadness @she-seeks-magic @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @queenofblacks @duckie-dunham

[j-amespotter]

i started this two months ago & it was a GRIND. i cannot believe i’ve done more than half of them already.

header image: x

a series of one-shots about the marauders loosely-based on folklore by taylor swift. 

main masterlist

the 1 {remus lupin x reader} 

the year is 1995. lord voldemort has returned. albus dumbledore recalls the order of the phoenix, giving two former lovers the chance to reconnect and reflect on the circumstances that tore them apart. 

cardigan {sirius black x reader} 

your relationship with sirius is on the rocks, but you loved him and at the end of the day, he was always there. for your own happiness, something had to change. 

the last great american dynasty {sirius black x muggle-born!reader}

a one-shot diving into sirius’s complicated relationship with grimmauld place and where the muggle-born he falls for fits in.

exile {sirius black x reader}

sirius is caught in the middle of a quarrel between two lovers; au where harry is raised by his godmother.

my tears ricochet {sirius black x reader}

after the fateful battle of the department of mysteries, a familiar face visits you in a nightmare. 

mirrorball {james potter x gryffindor!reader}

james potter has only ever had one girl on his mind. you’ve always known that. you decide it’s time for a new haircut. 

seven {sirius black x reader}

seven-year old sirius black lives in a haunted house and meets a girl who isn’t afraid to tell him so.

august {sirius black x slytherin!reader} pt. 1 pt. 2

as one of the order of the phoenix’s freshest recruits, love certainly was not on sirius black’s mind the summer after he finished school – especially not with a slytherin, who just happened to be his brother’s girlfriend.  

this is me trying {remus lupin x reader}

after the life-altering events of 1981, remus begins to heal. sometimes, the smallest gestures make the biggest difference.

illicit affairs {james potter x reader}

having shared a passionate moment on the eve of his wedding, you begin to reconsider your long-standing arrangement with james.

invisible string {sirius black x reader}

as you suffer from a recent heartbreak, sirius helps you realize that you were with the wrong guy all along.

mad woman {sirius black x death eater!reader}

epiphany {remus lupin}

betty {james potter x reader}

peace {james potter x lily evans}

hoax {sirius black x reader}

the lakes {james potter x lily evans}

**crossed out = unwritten, coming soon

**unlinked = written, coming soon