#remus fell first

[sexymoonmansslut]

my loves ☹️☹️

they mean the world. my babies ☹️☹️☹️☹️

[daliyla]

I don't know if someone already wrote it but... A httyd!Marauders au?

Remus being a sick and weak child, but he wants to be accepted in the village, so he tries to kill a dragon with weapons he builds (like Hiccup). Until one night he does it, he shots a dragon while he was flying, but when Remus finds him in the forest he's not able to kill him, and he calls he Moony (there was a full moon when he shot the dragon).

He's sent to a school to learn how to kill dragons and there are also James, Peter, Lily, Mary, Dorcas, all the crew basically. There are also Sirius and Regulus and they HAVE to be perfect and the best of the class, or their mother will punish them. So when Remus, the weak, weak Remus, becomes the best because of all the tricks he learned training Moony, Sirius just can't accept it. He and Reggie have been trained for all their life. They just can't lose, or Mother will be furious. He has to protect himself and his brother.

So he faces Remus and asks him if he's somehow cheating, Remus avoids all the questions (he already has a crush on Sirius- so yeah, we have Remus "fell first" Lupin and Sirius "fell harder" Black) until one day Sirius follows him and finds Moony and at first he's afraid but then he learns to love him...

And he also learn how to love Remus.

[sun1seeker]

the black brothers really had no idea what love was or what it felt like but when they finally experienced it, they loved harder than anyone else and therefore we have:

james “fell first” potter and regulus “fell harder” black

remus “fell first” lupin and sirius “fell harder” black

[jfleamont]

The Marauders as Malcolm T. Liepke paintings:

Lily

James

Sirius

Remus

Peter

Sirius and Remus

James and Lily

[liloublack-lupin]

Idk about y’all but this is how it goes for me :

Barty « fell first » Crouch and Evan « Fell harder » Rosier

Lily « fell first » Evans and Mary « fell harder » Mcdonald

Marlene « fell first » Mkinnon and Dorcas « fell harder » Meadows

Sirius « fell first » Black (but wouldn’t admit to it ) and Remus « fell harder » Lupin

James « Fell first » Potter and Regulus « fell harder » black

[moonymiel]

i think one of my favorite things about wolfstar is that there is no way they fit into the "one fell first and the other one fell harder" trope. because even if one of them fell first, both of them fell in a rolled down a flight of stairs- tripped over their boots and knocked their chin on a pointy corner- their stomach hurts from trying to keep in the feeling- can't sleep and can't eat when the other is hurt- would crawl to the ends of the earth on scraped hands for the other- can't look too closely at each other when they're sleepy and soft, because it's more intimate than staring at each other's souls- will argue with too much fire in their voices because they need the other one to stay- linked pinkies when they can't hold hands- possessive saliva sharing is as comforting as a wedding ring kinda way. like their devotion for each other is just as all-consuming and ridiculous and authentic and basic to their nature for both of them. equally as down bad, both are just as whipped stupid for the other. no fucking way one loves the other more. and y'know what? good for them!

[lumosecity]

James fell first but when Lily fell she fell fucking hard, girl smacked her head on a million tables on the way down and smiled through it bc James

[whitevesper]

he fell first he fell harder

[myjealouseyes]

The tots asking their grandparents when their parents fell in love and they each tell a completely different story. (Harry and Wolfstar!daughter don’t remember any of them.)

[candied-peach]

ao3: “ain’t as bad as it seems” rating: T warnings: platonic dukexiety, age regression, crying, internalized ableism, chronic pain genre: hurt/comfort description: Virgil has Feelings about his new mobility aid.

Virgil eyes his new rollator hesitantly, chewing on his bottom lip. It looks okay. The frame is purple, just like he wanted. It isn't going to bite him if he sits down. And god, does he want to. His lower back is absolutely killing him. He could go and sit down in his office chair or a kitchen chair or the couch. But his rollator is right there. Fitted for him and everything, the guy just left after making sure it worked for him and he knew who to call if it broke. He can just...sit down. At any time.

He bursts into silent tears instead. He should clutch the handles, should sit down, should do something because it's not good for his pain levels to just stand, but his mind is rapidly going fuzzier and fuzzier and he just wants his squid.

As if he summoned Remus, he hears a key in the front door and Remus's cheerful voice announcing his presence. Virgil hiccups, rocking back and forth, his arms wrapped around his middle. He's unsteady on his feet, but he still doesn't know what to do. He's glad he has the new rollator. It should make getting out a lot easier.

But people might point and stare and laugh and jeer because he's so young to need a rollator of all things, and it's not like horrific back pain and arthritis actually show easily. Maybe his feet, he does walk on the outsides of them a lot, but it's not like most people just look at your feet. So he doesn't even look like he needs it and-

"Whoa there, scare bear," Remus says, interrupting his downward spiral. His green eyes are surprisingly serious as he bends down a little to stare Virgil in the eyes. Virgil stares back, vision blurry with the tears still dripping down reddened cheeks. "What's wrong?"

Virgil points at his new rollator. Remus inspects it.

"Is it the wrong color?" Remus asks. Virgil shakes his head. "Does it not fit right?" Remus's next question. Virgil shakes his head again. He had to sit in it for the guy from the mobility aid company. It fits okay. He can sit down.

"So what's the problem, little bat?" Remus questions. Virgil's voice wobbles as he explains.

"Means it's real."

"Oh," Remus says, and his whole face softens. "Oh, storm cloud, I'm sorry."

"An'- an' what if people laugh," Virgil continues, his face crumpling as Remus carefully draws him into his arms.

"Then I'll throw them in a river," Remus promises, startling a little watery laugh free.

"Okay," Virgil agrees, readily enough, as he sniffles.

"You look like you're in pain, Virge," Remus continues, his face getting a little serious. "Do you need to sit down? It doesn't have to be the rollator. I can carry you, if you want. Or help you to a different chair. It's all in your bat wings."

Virgil giggles at that, studying the rollator. It's just there. Just a mobility aid. He can decorate it with some stickers later if he wants.

"I can sit down there," he says, a little hesitantly, as he wriggles free and sits down in the rollator, making sure the brakes are on. His back instantly feels a little better, and his feet hurt a little less.

It's not so bad after all.

[elisedonut]

AAAAAAAA I need a Forbidden Love pairing for mtf!Percy specifically

i have a lot for Cis!Percy because it's honestly one of my favorite tropes but i haven't really thought much for Mtf!Percy ships other then like Penny, Marcus and Oliver.

[spikybanana]

@wolfstarmicrofic - prompt: collection - aimless fluff that barely even mentions skating but lives in the figure skaters au cw: a bit of internalised aphobia

Remus kept a collection of Sirius-kisses— it sounded like the sort of things lovers kept collections of.

When he told Sirius of it, kiss-dazed and hidden away in an grey-stone alcove, Sirius had laughed breathily in surprise, before his eyes drifted off with a curious small smile.

“Well then,” he said when he turned back to Remus, face full of playful delight, “here’s another one for your collection,” and dropped a kiss to the tip of his nose.

-

The memory of the first kiss had long since mellowed and morphed: a stormy sky was repainted wine-purple, and rain-darkened pavement shone indigo in the lilac street lamps. It was the bottom of the urn, the heart of the mystery.

“Do you know?” Sirius had said of it once, “That might be the favourite moment of my life. For an instant everything was so clear, so perfect. Right then, I thought I knew everything I’ll ever need.”

And Remus, because he was an idiot, and because he had no idea how to deal with when Sirius said these kinds of things, had replied, “but you didn’t really, know everything you’ll ever need.”

Somehow, Sirius reacted to that with laughter and a kiss to his cheek, “you’re right, wise Moony-of-mine. I think I’ve learnt about other things I didn’t know I needed,” he said, and pulled Remus into a kiss again, “things like this.”

-

By the time the second kiss happened, Remus had already spent days wondering if Sirius simply managed to break something in his brain with the first. Because suddenly, Sirius became Sirius, the instigator of random spacey smiles and chest pains and that woozy, heady rush, the reason that all those senselessly sentimental love songs on the radio started to make sense. And Remus was embarrassed because, dear god, him? Remus John I-know-more-books-than-people Lupin?

His heart had simply ran ahead without his permission, and so did his mouth, apparently.

Because in the grey light of that cool, still morning, Sirius asked him on the rink, “Can I kiss you?”

And Remus blurted in response “I love you.”

Surely that’s what people meant by the word, right? This all-consuming kind of obsession that sometimes terrified himself, that Remus was sure Sirius would be scared off by.

But Sirius had looked overjoyed. “You do?” He said, wonder spilling from his voice. Then, and then, miraculously, Sirius had replied, “I love you too.”

The third, fourth and fifth kisses came quickly after that.

-

And so the collection grew. Picked up like petals from a meandering stream, like purple shells on the beach. It was light flutters of breath, soft lips dancing over skin and never lingering. It was kisses that were more smiles than heat, that were merely new stamps for old missives the weight of two hearts that had long-since been there. Somehow, even after months and months, every kiss still came as a surprise, unsought gifts that Remus gathered up like paper stars in a jar, that he was content with letting sit on the windowsill and bronzen in the sun.

“I don’t really fancy… doing more,” Sirius had confessed once, uncharacteristically awkward with himself.

“So we won’t.” Remus said simply.

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it.” Remus said with puzzlement, “I love this, all of this. I love you.”

Sirius’ eyes were downcast, and his smile came slow— but it did come, and he’d replied, “I love you too.”

There were kisses on the forehead, on the temple, under his jaw, on the inside of his wrist. There were kisses on entwined fingers as they stumbled down dark cobble-road of the village, raced down the echoing stone halls of their school. Remus made it a mission to return every gift in kind, with kisses and cuddles and chocolates in the leather jacket’s pocket that Sirius would never admit to have eaten. He’d hug Sirius close on his bed, wrap an arm around his shoulder, wait for Sirius to urge him with a squeeze of his hand before leaning forward, and pressing his lips to Sirius’ smile.

Maybe as they grew older, less and less about their world made sense. Dreams about a sport with crystalline beauty sometimes revealed to be murky or downright ugly. They would grow into the weights on their shoulders, that might end up pressing them away from each other until even their touches grow hesitant.

“There’s so much I can’t figure out how to fix. Or barely understand.” Sirius said once, sat in snow and shouldering the whole of the grey sky behind, “And I’m so afraid that, someday something horrible will happen to ruin everything.”

Opposite him, Remus took his hands out of his pockets to scoot forward and hold Sirius’ face close, his fingers threading through the hint of hyacinth in his dark hair. He held Sirius’ eyes, this, Remus thought, while committing another moment to memory, “Nothing can ruin everything,” he said, dropping a light kiss— their kiss— on Sirius’ lips, “I promise.”

This would remain pure and simple.

[atlasdoe]

i am a strong believer in remus fell first and sirius fell harder

[adharastarlight]

Okay but yk the whole "Sirius Black was the one who pulled" no dude. It was Remus. He was the bi icon who everyone wanted. Like yeah Si got around but I choose to believe Rem was the (nice) player first - Sirius was more flirty with everyone but yk-

[luveline]

bEGGING for something with the marauders with drunk reader at a halloween party!!! make it literally anything you want follow ur heart ily and ur writing is AMAZING!!!!

thank you, ily ♡ modern au, fem

The rugby uniform felt like a funny idea at the time, but now you're cold and wondering how James manages to stay warm when he plays. You must ask him. 

He sits on the couch with Remus and another friend, Frank. You like Frank but he's not one of your boys, leaving you no options —you have to slide yourself between Remus and James, emphasis on have to. Remus touches your waist unthinkingly as you do, like he might catch you if you fell. 

James is ecstatic to see you as always. "Where have you been? I was about to send out the search party." 

He's been very, very pleased with you upon the reveal of your costume. Like, pleased enough to take a handful of your thigh and squeeze at the soft inner part greedily. You lean back into Remus, enjoying the feeling and wanting his comfort. He's used to it, and  he adapts by pressing his face indulgently to the side of your head. 

You giggle. This is usually a nice feeling, but drunk? You're euphoric. 

"You can't stray too far, lovely, I need my victim," Remus says. 

"Where have your fangs gone?" you ask, pointing at your neck. "I made the bite mark so perfect. Everyone will think I have rabies if you don't commit." 

James laughs like you're hilarious. Later, you'll find out that you didn't quite say every word that you thought you said, and that you'd been slurring your words into one another to create Frankenstein's sentences. 

"Everybody already thinks you have rabies," James says. He's wearing a chef's costume from a show he likes, a white shirt that's sleeves strain against his biceps and a blue apron. Sirius spent an hour drawing tattoos into his brown skin with a sharpie. "That's why we've decided to put you down." 

"I'll have one last night of passion with her first, if you don't mind," Sirius says, announcing his presence. 

You like the sound of that, lifting yourself away from the other two boys and their touches to take Sirius' fine hands. He's in a button up and tie, the sticker on his chest proudly proclaiming, Hello, my name is: Dave.

"You're here to kiss me, right?" you ask.

Sirius grins and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "My little alcoholic, you smell like lambrini. What did we say about lambrini?" 

"Uh, that it makes me sloppy drunk." 

"Exactly!" He kisses your cheek, working an arm around your shoulder as though showing you off with pride to the other boys. "My darling, you're so smart." 

"Not that smart, she still drank the lambrini." 

"Remus, don't start," Sirius admonishes. "You just hate that she chooses me when she's drunk." 

"You're her enabler," James says, "of course she does. But before she was drunk she chose to dress as me for Halloween, so if anyone is the favourite–" 

"Oh, please don't start," Remus says. 

The boys start, arguing over who your favourite is. It's a silly pass time with no real merit but no malice, either, and you're just drunk enough to goad them on. "Maybe Remus should be my favourite. After all, he's my vampire. Our love is, like, eternal." 

The furrowed brow he gets whenever the other two boys debate slips. "It's so eternal," he says, nodding confidently. "Quite right, dove." 

"Eternal doesn't mean better." 

"Then what does it mean, Sirius?" 

You decide that James' lap looks comfortable and that you might be here for a long time, so you push his legs down flat and sit carefully (not very carefully in reality, but in your heart) on his thighs, socked feet pulled up onto the couch, sideways and skewiff in his company. 

"Well, obvious winner," James says, encompassing your back with a big arm, pulling you into him. Under his hand your shoulders feel like a more delicate system; you aren't necessarily small, but his touch feels so everywhere, a pervasive feeling of safety and comfort in the palm of his hand where it grasps you. 

"You have the more comfortable seat," Sirius says nonchalantly. "It means nothing." 

Remus pulls one of your socks up where it's slipping down your calf and Sirius interrupts the arguing to ask if you need a glass of water. You don't have favourites. They're each incredibly lovely in their own way. 

[sunnami]

you'd be the love of my life when i was young

summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.

pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)

tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending

note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)

They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.

What a load of bullshit.

You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate. 

There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months. 

Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.

Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room. 

And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them. 

Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them. 

(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.) 

Were you dying?

That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees. 

No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends. 

That was absurd. 

You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.

(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”

You huffed. 

Maybe you’d try Severus next. 

Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.

Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)

Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.  

“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?” 

Ba-dump!

Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.” 

Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered. 

Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares. 

(And you were. If only you knew.)

“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius. 

Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”

“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.” 

“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.” 

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it at all.

Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.

James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.” 

“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.

“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.” 

Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins. 

(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.) 

Something stirred deep in your belly. 

You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”

People could get the wrong idea.

You could get the wrong idea.

“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?” 

It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.

You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.” 

“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.” 

“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head. 

“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.

“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.” 

They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart. 

James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily. 

“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat. 

“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.” 

“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words. 

“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder. 

“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.” 

You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression. 

(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)

“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)

But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.

“I’m fine.”

As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization. 

You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends. 

And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship. 

Who were you to get in the way of that?

—

They would understand, you convinced yourself. 

They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace. 

But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise. 

If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it. 

Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs. 

It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests. 

(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.” 

You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.” 

“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.” 

“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.

“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”

“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.” 

Oh.

You were well and truly screwed. 

“Thanks,” You croaked.)

But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses. 

(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?” 

You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”

Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”

“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.” 

Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”

But only the wind replied.

Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat. 

“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.” 

You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.” 

“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?” 

Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone. 

You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”

It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too. 

You didn’t go to his match later that day.

It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)

Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own. 

You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”

“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook. 

Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”

You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!” 

“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.” 

“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”

Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.” 

“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.” 

“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.

Still, you missed them. 

“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”

Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”

You cried louder. 

“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”

Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”

Narcissa glared at him.

Lucius raised his arms in surrender. 

Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?” 

You nodded weakly. “I love them.”

“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?” 

“I love them!” You hiccuped.

“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.” 

“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob. 

Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much. 

“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.” 

—

Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready. 

Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes. 

Did you have a place with them? 

You were about to find out.

“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.

(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.) 

“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you. 

Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you. 

Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”

You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”

But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month. 

A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist. 

“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain. 

 (You made him feel unafraid of the moon.) 

“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”

“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this. 

“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested. 

“Because you don’t feel the same.” 

The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. 

You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along. 

“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”

“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”

“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.

James only smiled, stealing your third kiss. 

Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory. 

(You were art that he wanted to worship.)

He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”

He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.” 

“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.” 

You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.” 

Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.” 

You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.” 

Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?” 

You nodded. “P-Please.”

Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.” 

He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips. 

Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath. 

You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you. 

“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.” 

Then, Lily captured your lips with her own. 

She tasted like happy endings.

note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.