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“all the promises of my love with go with you”- sirius

“you will forget me”- regulus

the tragedy of regulus arcturus and the comedy of sirius orion

ac: insntatt on ig/tt (please go leave a like, she’s a dearest friend of mine)

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I know this isn't how most people see Walburga but you can't tell me what to do, just hear me out and imagine this:

James: knelt at Regulus' empty grave, staring at the stone as it rains

Walburga, appearing out of nowhere: you'll get dirty if you stay down there

James, weakly: I don't care

Walburga: did you bring those?

James: yeah, I know he didn't like flowers too much so I tried to keep it subtle.

Walburga: that's kind. I'm certain they would be appreciated. Silence how is...

James: Sirius is good. I'm surprised you care.

Walburga: you have no idea how this feels. You're not a mother

James, trying to hold back from saying 'you're not either': he loved you. Regulus.

Walburga: I know. You were...special to him.

James: are you making that up? I doubt he mentioned me.

Walburga: he wrote about you. In his diaries. After he went missing I couldn't help myself. It explains why he was smiling so often. You kept the colour in his face, right until the end.

James: is that why you're not calling me a blood traitor and cursing me?

Walburga: perhaps. Though I suspect you're not as noble a man as I had previously thought if you're weeping at the grave of a servant of the Dark Lord

James: it isn't about that

Walburga, smug: of course. May I have a moment?

James, finally standing up. Knees covered in mud: Fine. I'm sorry for your loss

Walburga: and I for yours

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I have dreams of you asking me better questions. Your desire to know more makes the love feel fuller. Then I open my eyes and you’re never as curious as I want

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The Truth of the Dare

Part One

Remus Lupin had a rule: Avoid Truth or Dare at all costs.

It wasn’t that he hated the game—it could be fun, in a reckless sort of way. But with this particular group, it was a loaded gun just waiting to go off. Someone (James, always James) would get too ambitious with the dares. Someone else (Marlene, without fail) would push a truth question far beyond reasonable boundaries. And worst of all, it was only a matter of time before someone (Lily, nosy and far too observant) tried to force out the one truth Remus had spent years carefully concealing.

So, when he found himself being dragged into the circle once again, wedged between Peter and Marlene on the floor of James’ living room, he had a bad feeling about it.

The night had started innocently enough. They’d been playing Mario Kart and making fun of James’ terrible driving skills (“How can you crash in Rainbow Road when there aren’t even walls to hit?”), and Remus had thought he was safe. Then James, in his infinite chaos, had decided the evening needed more “excitement” and suggested Truth or Dare.

Sirius, naturally, had been the first to back him up. Of course, he had.

And now, here they were.

Lily’s gaze swept around the group, assessing, lingering just a little too long on Sirius before shifting to Remus. That was when the dread settled in.

“Oh, no,” Remus muttered under his breath.

“What?” Peter asked, glancing at him.

“She’s scheming.”

Peter followed his line of sight to Lily, then winced. “Oh. Yeah. You’re screwed.”

Sure enough, Lily’s mouth curled into a knowing smirk as she turned to him.

“Alright, Moony,” she said, far too sweetly. “Truth or dare?”

Remus hesitated.

Truth was dangerous. It always was, especially with her.

But dare? That could be worse.

His gaze flickered toward Sirius, sprawled out on the floor with that easy, lazy kind of confidence he always carried, one knee pulled up, arms stretched behind him. Rings glinted on his fingers where he drummed them idly against the floor, and when he caught Remus looking, he smirked.

Shit.

“Dare,” Remus said quickly, before he could overthink it.

Sirius let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. “Moony, taking a risk? Who are you?”

James elbowed him. “Reckless, isn’t it?”

“I think it’s sexy,” Marlene chimed in.

Remus rolled his eyes. “Alright, enough.”

Lily, looking far too pleased, tapped a finger against her chin in mock contemplation. “Hmm. What should I make you do?”

Remus clenched his jaw, waiting, bracing himself for something ridiculous.

Then, Lily’s smirk widened. “I dare you to compliment Sirius.”

The room erupted.

“Oooh,” James whooped.

Dorcas leaned into Marlene, whispering something that made both of them cackle.

Peter just winced, muttering, “Yikes.”

And Sirius? Sirius sat up a little straighter, his grin full of teeth.

“Oh, this should be good,” he said, tilting his head like he was settling in for a show. “Go on, Moony. Lay it on me.”

Remus swallowed hard, trying not to let the warmth creeping up his neck show.

It wasn’t that Sirius wasn’t worthy of a compliment. Of course he was. He was Sirius. He was effortlessly attractive, devastatingly charming, and entirely too much for Remus’ sanity. But putting any of that into words? In front of everyone? While Sirius watched him, smug and waiting?

Impossible.

“I hate this game,” Remus muttered.

Sirius leaned in. “Say something nice about me, Moons. I dare you.”

Remus exhaled through his nose. Alright. Fine.

“You have…” He hesitated, eyes flicking over Sirius’ face, his sharp jawline, his high cheekbones, the way his hair fell a little messily into his eyes. “…aesthetically pleasing bone structure.”

Silence.

Then, laughter.

James nearly fell over. Marlene howled. Lily clapped her hands together, delighted.

Sirius, for his part, just grinned. “Moony,” he said, tone dripping with amusement, “are you checking me out?”

Remus groaned. “I hate this game.”

"Admit it,” Sirius pressed, nudging him with a socked foot. “You think I’m hot.”

“You’re insufferable,” Remus corrected.

“You’re avoiding the question,” Sirius sing-songed.

Lily, ever the instigator, leaned forward. “Sirius, your turn.”

Sirius turned immediately to Remus, his expression a challenge. “Truth or dare?”

Remus froze.

Sirius’s smirk deepened.

James let out an exaggerated ooooohhh, making a circling motion between them. “See, this is the real game here.”

Remus’ throat felt tight. His only option was to play it safe.

“Truth,” he said warily.

Sirius’s gaze gleamed. “Do you fancy me?”

The room erupted again, but this time, it felt different. The teasing was still there, sure, but there was something expectant in the air.

Remus’s mouth went dry. His pulse pounded in his ears.

Sirius was still watching him, but his smirk had softened into something real, something hesitant, like he was actually waiting for an answer.

Remus opened his mouth. Closed it. Swallowed.

And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “Yes.”

The laughter stopped.

James’ eyes went wide. Marlene looked like she might combust.

But Remus only saw Sirius.

Sirius, who wasn’t laughing. Sirius, whose smirk had disappeared entirely. Sirius, who was staring at him, lips parted, breath caught.

Remus braced himself for a joke, for some teasing remark, for something.

Instead, Sirius just exhaled and said, very softly, “Well. That’s good to know.”

And then he smiled—not his usual cocky grin, but something warm, something pleased, something that made Remus’ stomach flip inside out.

Lily cleared her throat. “Alright, moving on. Peter, truth or dare?”

The game continued. But Remus barely heard it, barely felt anything beyond the lingering warmth of Sirius’ gaze, the way his fingers brushed over the back of his hand as if to say, Later.

And later?

Well. Remus had a feeling later was going to change everything.

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brah gimme a full one brah

Regulus reads the ransom letter over French toast. There’s a half-grapefruit waiting for him, a cup of aromatic coffee, and a pot of Darjeeling. By all accounts, it’s the perfect breakfast.

Dear Lady Black, the letter reads, in a cursive written by someone who can’t write in cursive, I am sorry to say I have abducted your son, Master Regulus Black. Don’t worry, he is perfectly safe and will remain so, however if you would like to… the letter continues in such a manner. Even Regulus isn’t sure if he’d been kidnapped (sorry, abducted), or if he has simply popped out for a day with an old friend. There is only a vague mention of ransom – never mind the amount – and the man had signed with his full name.

“James Potter?”

“Yes?” the man – James – responds. Perks up.

“That’s really your name? And you put it in the letter?”

“Seemed the polite thing to do.”

“Are you dumb?”

James looks somewhere between affronted and amused. Not how people usually answer to being insulted.

Regulus twirls the fork in his fingers, and it turns into a rather smart – albeit still silver – quill. He’s always been adept at transfiguration. James snags on the movement, takes in a sharp breath. A click of fingers and the parchment turns blank.

To Her Excellence Lady Black, Regulus writes, using his non-dominant hand to obscure his handwriting. The words are rendered in a non-recognisable, but still stunning cursive.

As you are by now no doubt aware, your son Master Regulus Black has been kidnapped. At present he is safe and well. Please see attached a lock of his hair as confirmation.

No physical harm shall befall him, provided you follow the instructions I give you. Should you not, his death will not be swift.

Do not, for any reason, attempt to communicate with the Auror department or any private agency.

Before end of the week, secure 20 thousand galleons in old currency.

The galleons must be placed in a large cigar box, securely closed and wrapped in white paper. Remain at home and alert until midnight on Saturday and await further instructions.

Regulus signs the letter with an unreadable squiggle in place of a name, then twirls the silver quill around his fingers – it turns into a sharp, simple dagger. He cuts off a lock of his hair from behind an ear, where the disruption won’t be visible. Vanity, as always, present.

James stares dumbly as Regulus hands him the hair.

“Secure it and put it in the envelope with the letter.”

“Why?”

“She can see my magical signature in it. Will know that I’m alive and you’re not just trying to extort money for a corpse.”

“Huh,” James looks struck with something. “Clever. Never knew you could do that.” He takes the letter and reads through it, promptly choking on his tea. “20 thousand? Are you insane?”

Regulus doesn’t respond. Changes the dagger back into a fork (and James’ eyes get stuck on that, again), and goes back to his breakfast.

“That’s way too much money.”

“And how much were you going to ask for?”

“I don’t know. Five hundred?”

“Five… five hundred? That’s just insulting. Are you trying to be insulting?”

“What?”

“You think I’m worth five hundred galleons? The heir of the House of Back? Five hundred?”

Regulus is furious. Not only has he been kidnapped (abducted) by a moron: the moron thinks him worthless.

“Five hundred galleons is a lot of money.”

“Sure. If you’re poor,” Regulus argues, “you want five hundred? Here,” he takes the cheapest ring off his fingers and drops it on the table in front of James, “this is worth about double, pawn it and keep the change.”

James twirls the ring around his fingers. “Very pretty,” he smiles, slipping it on, rubbing the little leaf motif engraved in the silver, “you walk around with thousands worth of jewellery on you? Surprised nobody kidnapped you before.”

“I thought I was abducted.”

James looks downright delighted by the answer.

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THEEHEHEHEHE

Our Eyes Barely Even Meet

The first time Remus sees Sirius, it's only a flicker of motion at the edge of his vision. A sharp laugh, black hair that moves like ink in water, a presence too large for the room they are in. Hogwarts is a castle of ghosts and echoes, and Sirius Black is both.

They do not speak. Not then.

Remus is careful. He moves through the world as though his limbs are borrowed, as though any wrong step might betray the secret stitched beneath his ribs. He keeps his hands tucked into his robes and his head bowed, not in fear, but in deference to the fact that some things are meant to be unseen.

Sirius, though—Sirius is a constellation made flesh, burning at a reckless speed through the sky, and he does not care who sees. He moves like he owns the space he walks in, like the walls bend to his will. Like he has never, even once, doubted that he belongs.

Their eyes barely even meet that first week at Hogwarts.

But fate has already decided.

It happens slowly.

James and Sirius become a force of nature, and Peter clings to them like a shadow desperate for warmth. Remus—Remus resists.

He does not belong in a world of golden boys and effortless laughter. He is too careful, too quiet, too afraid. But fate is patient, and Sirius Black is not.

Sirius drags him in like gravity.

"You read too much," Sirius says one afternoon, dropping into the seat beside him in the common room.

"You don't read enough," Remus murmurs, not looking up from his book.

A huff of laughter, something like curiosity. Sirius does not move. He sits close, too close, like he does not know what it means to give people space. His presence is a tangible thing, pressing at the edges of Remus's carefully built solitude.

Their eyes barely even meet. But Remus feels the weight of Sirius' gaze like a touch.

Winter comes, and with it, the full moon.

Remus is good at hiding things. He is practiced at slipping away unnoticed, at swallowing his pain so no one ever sees it. But Sirius Black is not one to be ignored. He watches. He notices. He asks the questions no one else is bold enough to ask.

"Where do you go?" he asks one night, after Remus returns to the dormitory looking pale and bruised.

Nowhere. Away. Don't ask.

"Out," Remus says instead, because there is no lie in that.

Sirius studies him for a long moment, grey eyes sharp and thoughtful. He does not press. Not yet. But Remus knows, in his bones, that he will.

Their eyes barely even meet. But Sirius is already seeing too much.

The truth comes out in pieces, but when it does, it changes everything.

Sirius does not run. He does not flinch. He does not look at Remus like he is something monstrous.

"You’re still you," he says, voice low and certain, like it is the simplest truth in the world. "You’ll always be you."

Something inside Remus—something he has spent years keeping locked away—breaks open.

Their eyes meet, truly meet, and Remus cannot breathe.

Sirius holds his gaze like a promise.

Fate tightens its grip.

They become something unspoken.

Sirius sits too close. He touches without thinking—fingers brushing against Remus’ wrist, a knee pressing against his beneath the table. And Remus, careful, quiet Remus, lets him.

The others do not notice the way their orbits shift, the way gravity pulls them closer with each passing day.

But Remus notices.

And Sirius—Sirius has always known.

One night, in the dying glow of the common room fire, Sirius whispers, "Do you think—" He hesitates, but only for a breath. "Do you think some people are just meant to find each other?"

Remus exhales slowly. He looks at Sirius, at the boy who has been unraveling him since the day they met. At the boy who is more reckless, more brilliant, more terrifyingly alive than anyone he has ever known.

He thinks of fate, of gravity, of the way the stars pull each other into endless collision.

Their eyes meet, and this time, Remus does not look away.

"Yes," he says. "I think so."

And Sirius smiles, like he has just heard the answer he was waiting for all along.

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regulus black defo had a bowlcut as a child

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cant even appreciate a good slowburn fic anymore cuz my whole life has turned into one like what the actual fuck is this someone kill me omg hes driving me insane i want him so bad

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“and darling as the earth comes down i will grab your waist and we will spin and sway and dance the night away. just because the world is ending doesn’t mean we have to.”- (written by me like 3 years ago)

but its james and regulus.

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Regulus: How does he look at me?

Remus : Like he never wants to look away.

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Happy Valentine’s Day to all the friendships out there too 💕

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I did it

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Marauders as things me and my friends have said:

Part 51

Sirius: ow its kinda hot (while grabbing wood from a lit fire)

Remus: then maybe dont touch it

Sirius: no beacuse pain is an illusion so if its that cold just dont be hot

James: bro.. do you even know what the fuck you just said

Sirius: not at all my hand burns rlly bad😞

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Marauders as things me and my friends have said:

Part 50

James: *whispers* lily…

Lily: yeah?

James: i just wanted to see if you were still in here because im scaredd😣😣

Lily: why are you always scared 😭

James: because its scary out here man the real world is scary

Lily: you arnt in the real world youre in your bedroom with a pink princess lamp watching bojack horseman

James: AND ITS SCARY

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Marauders as things me and my friends have said:

Part 49

James: HEY! PUT THAT DOWN. 😡

James: PONES ESO ABAJO

Peter: listen here

Peter: im not your bajo

James: this bitch. -_-

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Marauders as things me and my friends have said:

Part 48

(this one was actually said by my 75 year old grandparents)

Euphemia: stop bugging me

Fleamont: gimme 20 bucks and ill stop bugging you

Euphemia: if i give you a kick in the shin youll stop bugging me too

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anticipation - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 570

Up until this moment, Remus had been doing spectacularly well at avoiding embarrassment, if he did say so himself. At least in this particular way. He'd been slowly peeking around corners, casting detecting spells, never walking very close to Sirius...all to avoid the predicament the was in now.

"Looks like mistletoe," Sirius sang teasingly, pointing up at the magical plant over the door that had forced both of them to take a pause in their entry to their dorm room.

What arsehole had hung some there? Surely not a House Elf. Was this James's idea of a joke? Either way, Remus frowned, because now he had a decision to make.

Mistletoe didn't permanently freeze you underneath it. It didn't magically force you to kiss the other person. It just caused you to freeze for a few moments, so there was no way you could deny knowing you'd been underneath it with someone else.

So now was it better for him to refuse kissing his friend? How would that make him look? Surely, if he didn't have feelings, he would have been able to withstand a quick peck with a chuckle and a shrug. But laughing off a kiss from Sirius seemed as terrible as refusing one.

His decision was made for him when Sirius took a bold step closer to him and wrapped two arms around the back of his neck, pressing their chests together. For some reason, all of his earlier amusement seemed to have been wiped from his eyes, replaced by something akin to nervousness. Except Sirius Black didn't get nervous, so Remus didn't understand. "We don't have to..." Remus mumbled, both trying to give himself and Sirius an out.

But the shorter boy just tilted his head to the side. "I never said I didn't want to, Moons," he mumbled, bringing his head closer. "I mean...do you? Want to?"

And Sirius was so close. Gray eyes gazing into Remus's soul, lips so close Remus could feel his warm breath as he thought about the way he could count each of Sirius's perfect, long eyelashes when they were close like this.

Hands quivering with anticipation, Remus brought them to Sirius's waist, body erupting with heat as his thumb brushed against a small sliver of exposed skin by the seam of Sirius's t-shirt.

"I..." What should he answer? It was hot, the air so think he could've cut it with a severing charm, and his entire being was begging him to lurch forward and claim Sirius's lips in his own.

Sirius, eyes flickering up and down between Remus's mouth and eyes, licked his lip for just a moment.

And something occurred to Remus as his mind swirled in a haze. "Did you put that up there?" he demanded, hoping desperately that he was right. That Sirius had wanted this as much as he wanted Sirius.

But before the shorter boy could answer, thundering footsteps caused both of them to turn, pulling back from each other.

"Oh, no! Mistletoe!" James screeched as he entered, placing a sloppy kiss on Sirius's cheek and winking at Remus. "Just trying to find reasons to kiss me, Pads?"

"Of course," Sirius replied a bit weakly, pressing a kiss to James's forehead and walking away, looking put out.

But as Remus stared after him, all he could think about was that Sirius's hadn't just kissed him on the head and been done with it. Why?