#beauty!reader

[milunalupin]

— tale as old as time

chapter two

chapter one

beast!remus x beauty!reader ★ 1.9k words

The sun had risen in Riquewihr, your father's chickens clucking outside of your small home on the outskirts of town. You tiptoed through the house to not wake up your father, grabbing and putting on your shrug that was laying over a chair. Collecting the book you had to return to Mister Longbottom from the dining room table you left the house, making your way into the town's center. You wrapped your shrug tighter around you as the brisk morning air ran a chill over you, your shoes echoing over the cobblestone path. You always went to the bakery first to make sure you got the freshest bread for you and your father.

"Good morning Madame Potter, you look puzzled." You chuckled as she walked up to the baker's stand.

"I woke up today feeling like I've lost something again, I just don't remember what." the merchant replied, one of her ceramic bowls in her hands as she looked around her space in confusion. She stopped her search to grab a fresh loaf from her basket and handing it over to you in exchange for a few coins. "Where are you off to today, amie?"

"I just finished reading this book, I'm on my way to return it now. It's about two lovers in northern Italy."

"Sounds boring." Lily scrunched her nose with a smile.

You laughed and waved at the red head , turning to walk towards the town's tiny library. You didn't have to look around to know that the other villagers were staring at you. Since arriving, your father and yourself were often pushed aside and looked down upon. Your father was older, and an inventor. Apparently being the two meant that there was something off in your head. And you, a young woman with no intention of finding herself a husband, were promised to a life of loneliness and poor lifestyle. Many assumed that once your father was gone, you would end up on the streets begging for scraps, a woman with nothing with the ability to read, deeming you useless.

Lucky for you, friendship was easily found in Lily Potter and Frank Longbottom, the kind owner of the library. You continued your stroll, the bell tower ringing to indicate the start of the day.

The town square was the most colorful part of the village, stands full of perfectly picked flowers and buckets of the season's harvests. Vendors shouted over the crowd selling textiles and meats, a cleaver just barely missing your arm as you got pushed around the hustle and bustle of the market.

"Y/N!

A self proclaimed war hero. An arrogant hunter who all the women in the village were in love with. Evan Rosier was Riquewihr's most eligible bachelor, his tall stature and aristocratic features apparently the best thing since fresh bread. He wasn't the brawniest, but he held himself such a way that made all the ladies swoon.

"Here, beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady."

You did your best to keep a polite smile on your face as Evan just about shoved the bouquet into your arms. This unfortunately wasn't your first encounter with the hunter, and you feared it wasn't the last. You knew he was considered the most handsome man in the village, but no amount of attractiveness could overlook such a sour and vain personality. Glancing down at the colorful arrangement of flowers in her hands, you nodded towards Evan and took a step back to continue on your stroll.

"Thank you Evan, I'll see you-"

"Dinner, tonight. I'll arrive just before sundown." he smirked,

"Sorry, I'm busy!" You began walking away from him, the flowers slowly getting ripped apart as you squeezed you way through the crowd to further distance from him. Apologies Mister Longbottom, the books will have to wait for another day.

"Not too busy for a gentleman's company, I'm sure!"

You weaved around the market, slipping into an alleyway, holding your breath to hear if he was nearby. As soon as you saw him strut by, you let out a breath of relief, letting yourself leaning against the stone wall for a moment before turning towards the direction of your house.

Surprisingly, Evan wasn't even the worst part of Riquewiher. The villagers weren't as good at whispering as they thought, or perhaps they meant for you to hear all of the mean comments they made daily. You weren't oblivious to the nasty glares and insults. You didn't share the same miniscule mindset as everyone else, and you wished that one day you could leave it all behind and explore what else the world has to offer. Until then, your books will have to do.

With your little cottage just up ahead, the coast felt clear. But of course with your luck, an obnoxious smile and shiny boots stopped you in your path.

"That's a nice book you have there."

"Evan, do you read?"

You stand there looking confused as he let out a boisterous laugh, shaking his head. "What kind of man do you take me for, of course I don't."

"Of course, how silly of me to assume there was anything in that head of yours besides.. well, is there even a brain in there?"

"Ladies mustn't speak like—" You shut the door behind and blew out a breath, relieved to be at home in your safe space. Hearing your father's whistling from the dining room table, you smiled and walked over to him hunched over his newest invention. It seemed to be his favorite project, a small metal replica of what you believed to be your old family home in Paris. Inside sat tiny figurines identical to your father, mother, and a small bundle which had to have been yourself.

"I don't think the villagers like me very much."

"What's not there to like about you? You're beautiful, very smart, and most importantly, you're kind." he sent you a certain look, the side of his mouth twitching up. "Sort of like someone I used to know."

Your eyes softened at his response. It warmed your heart to know that no matter how much time went on since your mother's passing, his love for her never faded.

Your father gives you a sympathetic smile, coming over to kiss the top of your head before turning back around to collect his things and packing them in a trunk. That's right, it was the time of year that your father left town and traveled to the market to sell his work and meet other creatives. Though you'd missed him dearly, his trips took no longer than a few days.

"Alright my little flower, what shall I bring you back?"

"You already know father. All I'd like is a rose."

The journey to the market was a relatively easy and familiar one. Your father and family horse, Philippe, take the same woodland route every few months. Upon reaching a fork in the road he doesn't remember existing, a breeze of cold air runs through the forest, sending a bit of a chill throughout his body.

"Well Philippe, we've got to make sure we pick the right path." he laughed to himself , nudging the horse towards the right. This path was unfamiliar, but it couldn't take him too far off from his destination. Besides, he'd look bad making that joke to Phillippe only to take the opposite route.

He had to say, the treetops blocking out the sun did make it a little chillier, and the lack of the usual river he followed deprived him from the calming sounds of the running water. The two continued on through the forest, making the most of the greenery and the.. snow?

Philippe's hoof clacking became muffled as the fluffy snowfall increased, a far away howl waking up the artist from his calm state. He was not at the age to try an outrun any wolves, especially not with the precious cargo he had strapped to his horse. Nudging his hooved friend with his calf, they carefully trotted along. The sun had begun setting an hour later, making it harder to see for the older man. Philippe and himself were tired, they were not expecting for this journey to take as long as it had, perhaps he should've taken the left path instead. Just as he was about to give and set up camp among the trees, metal gates came into view. As they got closer, he realized that the metal gates stood at the entrance of a large garden, with an even larger castle standing tall behind it.

With the drop in temperature, your father wasted no time in passing through the gates, tying Philippe up outside, and entering the castle. The foyer was dark, apart from the warm glow from the crackling fireplace. He quickly made his way over to the the heat, rubbing his hands together and letting out a big sigh of relief from escaping the cold even just for a moment.

A clinking of ceramic pulled his attention away from the fire, eyes scanning the room. They finally fell upon a a teacup sitting on a saucer, sliding across the floor in his direction. The teacup then looked up at him with his eyes and spoke. "Papa said I wasn't allowed to move, in case I scare you. But you looked cold so I thought you might like a hot cup of tea."

He blinked, nodded politely while his mind ran a thousand kilometers a minute. "Right, well.. I actually-"

Your father may not be young enough to outrun wolves but he hopes he's faster than this teacup. Philippe's lead had never been untied faster, hoping he was only experiencing hypothermia induced hallucinations while inside. He mounted the horse find his way to his original destination when he notices rose vines nearby, a speckles of red peeking out from the sheet of snow.

"Oh," A cloud of cold breath joins his laugh, "How could I forget?"

Jumping off Philippe, he step towards the prettiest flower to take home to you, when a deep snarl stops him in his tracks. He looks up just as the shadow looming over him presents itself, shaggy fur and giant horns making him fall back onto the snow. He tries to crawl quickly back to Philippe but the monster took hold of his arm and dragged him back into the castle. The frightened horse manages to escape and run off, leaving his owner in the hands of the massive predator.

"Please, let me go! I'll never tell a soul I was here, I promise!" his cries echoed through the candle-lit stairwells on the towers, reaching no one. Roughly thrown into the cell by the creature, he sat with his back against the wall and held his arm in pain.

"Oh I'll make sure of it." The giant beast growled lowly, locking the cell door and stomping away.

Your father had slumped down in his cell, his heart feeling heavy thinking of you alone back home. The stone was ice cold and rough, and the cell had a large opening that led to nothing but what seemed to be a fifty foot drop to his death.

On the steps leading to the West Wing sat a clock, a candelabra, a teapot, and a teacup. They watched in sorrow as their master stomped passed by them to his bedroom where an encased rose sat, one of its enchanted petals falling off and wilting away.

taglist ♥︎

@propertyofrjl @urmomw4ntsme @gooseycaboose

[saltiestdemonloves]

Beauty and the Beast pt. 2

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: None

WC: 2.3k

A figure stands before the lit flames, turned away from me. I approach them with hesitance, “Hello?”

They turn to reveal a beautiful woman with red hair and sharp blue eyes. “There was no need to collect all that wood,” she tells me, stepping forward and closing the space between us. “Let me,” the woman says, taking the bundle of sticks I’d collected from me. She turns away and I watch with wide eyes, shocked to see someone else here. She was beautiful, red hair that flowed easily past her shoulders. She walked with a sense of grace and elegance. 

“I-I’m sorry. I hadn’t known that there was anyone here, ma’am.” I step forward and stare apologetically at her. 

The woman turns to smile and simply holds up a dismissive hand. She flashes a bright smile and says in a calm and controlled voice, “Were you brought here by a stag and a young buck?”

“I...” I frown pausing at the specifics of it, “... yes.”

“Ah,” she hums and turns to the chairs, “well then, come and sit. I’m sure that you’re tired.”

The woman sits in one of the chairs and crosses her legs, looking at me expectantly. I hesitate before taking a deep breath and walking to her, taking a seat in the chair across from her. She hums and leans against her knuckles and runs her nails across the fleshy part of her thumb with the other. “Why are you here?” She asks, breathing in deeply and tilting her head. 

I stare at her with my brows pushed together and a frown on my lips, “I told you, the bucks brought me here.”

“No,” she sighs, looking down and shaking her head before meeting my eyes again. Her’s sparkle with curiosity. “I mean, why did you come to the forest. You must have been quite deep for them to find you.”

Grimacing I look down, “I was... chased out of my home. Out of my village.”

“Why?” This woman inquires further, leaning closer to me. 

“I was accused of witchcraft by a woman, one of my neighbors.” Her sapphire eyes never leave me and she waits with a patient expression. Sighing, I continue, “A man in the village, he... came onto me and I refused him. There is another woman who is absolutely obsessed with him and she saw, she blamed me and told me that I would pay. I woke up the next day to the sounds of protests outside my home calling me a witch and threatening to burn me out.” 

The woman’s eyes soften, I pretend I don’t notice however and continue with my story. “While they continued with their yelling, I packed what I could as quickly as I could and ran out the back. I live right near the edge of the woods but someone saw me and they chased me with their torches and weapons.”

“You poor thing,” she murmurs. 

With that said I look at her sharply, “I don’t want that label. I’m not sad about it, I’m angry. It only opens your eyes to how easily people can be swayed, no matter how close you were before.”

“Was she right?”

“What?”

“The woman who accused you? Was she right?”

The question was a strange one and everything about her read seriousness. The woman does not look away from me as she waits patiently for my answer. “No,” I say finally. “It’s not.” I look around us before glancing back her, “I’m sorry, are you the only one here? What’s your name?”

“Tell me your’s first.”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n,” she repeats as if testing it. She chews on her lip before sitting up and holding her hand out to me, “I’m Natasha.” I reach for her hand and shake it before setting back in the chair again. This time it was my turn to stare expectantly as I wait for her to answer my first question. Natasha smiles softly before taking a deep breath and saying, “No. I’m not the only one here. They thought it best if I met you first to see if you were worth the effort.”

“Worth the effort for what?”

“If it was worth protecting you and keeping you alive,” Natasha answers. 

I stare in shock as she stands up and walks towards me, standing in front of me with her hand held out. “Come,” she says. “I will take you to your room.”

“My room?”

“You want a place to stay, don’t you?”

“I- yes, I do. Thank you.”

She hums and scoffs softly, “Yeah well, don’t thank me just yet. There’s another hurdle in the road.”

Once again, I take Natasha’s hand and let her pull me up. She pulls me along with her up the stairs. We go left and walk down the vast and large hallways. As we walk I look at everything that we passed, nearly all the windows were covered in the same dark and depressing drapes as the windows below. “Why is everything covered?”

“Shh,” is the only response I get. 

I glare at Natasha’s back for a moment before continuing to take in everything around us. The floor was covered in a red and gold rug covered in intricate designs. The walls were, from what I could see, an ivory color. I want to ask more questions but the sharp and warning look that I’d been given by Natasha when she shushed me stopped me from doing so. 

Eventually, Natasha leads us to a double door that is tall and wide; it was white with golden handles. “Here we are,” she says, twisting the doors handle and pushing it open. “Your new room.”

“Oh wow,” I step in and my eyes grow with amazement. The ceiling was taller than I could ever imagine and like everywhere else in this place, there was a window that reached just as high and nearly touched the floor. I sigh softly and step inside, a bed three times the size sat to the left of me with long willowy drapes surrounding it. The blankets were a creamy ivory and looked as if they were made of silk. There was one thicker blanket folded at the foot of the bed that was royal blue in color and made of some fine cotton material.

My brows furrow as I step forward to touch it, my fingers lingering as I turn to face Natasha, "These colors and material are very rare. How could you ever manage to find them."

Natasha straightens her shoulders and clears her throat, looking at where my fingers touched the blankets, "The lord of the manor had an expensive taste." She looks up to meet my gaze, "You'll stay here until I come to retrieve you, do you understand?"

"Wh-?"

"Do you understand?" She repeats more firmly, her body tenses.

I blink at her before swallowing, looking down at my feet I nod shortly. "Yes," I breathe. I peek back up at her to see Natasha studying me with a frown. 

She sighs and goes to walk to the door, before she leaves she tells me, "You ask too many questions, Y/n. Try not to anymore."

"Then how will I ever know anything? You're so secretive."

Natasha's full lips pull into a smile and her eyes twinkle, "That's for the best."

Before I can reply or respond Natasha is quickly gone, the door is shut quickly behind her. I pout and cross my arms with a huff before turning away from the door and continue to look around the room. There wasn’t much in the room other than the bed; besides a large dresser, a vanity, and a desk with a chair. I walk forward to the drapes that shut out the dull light from outside and frown, I think this place is dark and dreary enough as it is. I might as well put in some light.

I pull the drapes open and find, to my absolute delight, a window seat.  A squealing noise escapes me as I see it and I bounce where I stood. “I’ve always wanted one!” I exclaim. “It’s so pretty!” And it was, the window seat was covered in plush pillows that matched the blankets on the bed. I run my hands over the plush pillows and sigh at the soft feeling. 

Grinning, I look past the window seat and look outside. I could get a better view of the front of the manor and could see past the tall walls that surrounded the place. It was snowing heavily now and I couldn’t see very far so I stick to what’s closest; the yard. To my surprise, I see Natasha standing outside with the bucks I’d met earlier.

I hum and climb onto the seat to see better, “Hm.”

She seemed to be speaking to them, looking to the right of them and up. I wish that I could see what she was looking at and what her expression was because as she continued to speak, the young buck had started to become antsy and tense. Natasha turns her head to the left, looking at the young one and reaches for him, resting her palm on his cheek. She says something to it and starts to turn in my direction, gasping I duck behind the curtains and stay there. 

I wait until a considerable amount of time has passed before peeking back outside only to find an empty space where they had been. “Huh?” I lean closer to the window until my breath fans against the glass, pressing my cheek against it to see better. Just when I was about to pull away an owl swoops up past me, scaring me. I gasp and a small yell slips out as I fall back off of the window seat and onto the floor. 

It finds a spot to rest on the window sill and I grimace as I push myself up to look at it, its eyes were wide and its head tilts side to side as it stares at me. There seemed to be a certain amount of clarity behind its eyes and I feel as if perhaps things are not the norm here when it comes with animals. 

I stand up and slowly make my way back to the window, eyeing it hesitantly. “Hello,” I murmured slowly. The owl only stares at me with unblinking eyes before it preens its snow-white feathers and turns away from me. Curiously, I continue watching, waiting for what it’s going to do. It didn’t surprise me when it spread its wings out before taking off. 

“Hmm,” I watch as it leaves. “What a strange occurrence.”

Before I could think anymore of it, a knock is at my door. I turn to stare at it, Natasha had told me not to leave the room and she was clearly trying to either keep my hidden or keep something else hidden for my safety. Should I open the door?

Another knock and I make my decision. I close the space between the door and I and test the handle, it gives away easily and I open it. Peeking out, I look both left and right before looking down. “Oh!” While there was no person, there was a pile of clothes left to me and a piece of paper on top of the clothes. I look back and forth one more time before kneeling down and picking the pile up.

I step back into my room and shut the door behind me before making my way to the bed and setting clothes onto my bed. I take the note and read it first:

Y/n,

Your clothes looked worn and thin. I thought you might appreciate these in replacement. You’ll find that there is a change of clothes for today, something to wear to bed, and a change of clothes for tomorrow.

~S.

I frown, “Who is “S”?” I’ve only met Natasha. Another one of the occupants of the large manor, no doubt. I wonder why they didn’t give the clothes to me in person.

The clothes that were given were a nice material; one for the rich. Unfolding the dress, I hold it up to examine and see that it looks my size. “There’s only one way to find out,” I say quietly to myself. Setting it down, I untie my bodice and take it off then move to my dress, reaching behind myself for the ties there. Once it’s loose, I let the dress fall off of my body and stand with just my chemise. Picking up the new dress, I admire it for a moment, letting my fingers stroke the fabric before putting it on. 

“This is nice.” I walk to the vanity and admire myself, it fits perfectly and though that left me curious to wonder as to how they knew my size, I chose to not question it like many things. It was a dark red in color with some white at the neckline and bottom of the dress. It was a heavier dress though and not for a person of my class, I could hardly go out and work in it. Not that I was allowed to, Natasha had made that perfectly clear. 

I click my tongue and pick up the rest of the clothing, resting it on the vanity before finding a seat at the window. There’s not much for me to do here so I could write in my journal or- I pause mid-thought and look around. “Where’s my journal?”

All Fics: @marvels-queen-bee​ @breezy1415@sergeantjbuckybarnes @gingergirl967-writer @metal-armed-dino@memyselfandmaddox @spideypooler03@beets1bears1battlestargalactica @thisismysecrethappyplace

Bucky x Reader: @peinsa-bonito @evyiione

@cutie1365

[milunalupin]

— tale as old as time

a/n: welcome to my beast!remus x beauty!reader series ! i hope you come along this journey with me and enjoy!

chapter one

remus lupin x reader ★ 1.4k words

Gowns and music filled the ballroom, the castle's servants walking around with silver trays of the most luxurious desserts in France. Beautiful and wealthy people danced around to the sound of the piano and the most famous opera singer money could buy in all of Europe.   

The ballroom was decked out in glimmering jewels and fresh flora, the smell of roses strong in the air.  In the middle was Prince Remus Lupin, twirling countless girls about, a smirk on his handsome powdered face.  The Lupins ruled the Alsace region, their wealth apparent by their acres of meticulously landscaped property, the glimmer of the sun on the enormous castle blinding. Remus was an only child who was raised by King Lyall and Queen Hope, until the queen passed away from an illness many years ago, leading the Prince to grow up with the influence of his cold and selfish father.

Staff members were forced to turn a blind eye when they would see the young master walk through the castle with watery eyes or badly hidden bruises. No matter how much they pitied him, his father would rid them of their job in a heartbeat if they dared speak up about it. With every passing year, Prince Remus grew to be increasingly more his father, prioritizing status over everything.  Remus' life was filled with anything he wanted, and obviously once you have everything, things get boring. So, he constantly hosted balls and invited only the most beautiful and influential people in France. Men and women came from all over the country dressed in the most lavish of outfits, trying to gain the attention of the young Prince. 

In a silky yellow tailcoat stood the royal family's head of kitchen staff, Sirius Black. He let out an exaggerated sigh as he stood along his colleagues, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew.  "How many girls will leave crying tonight, do you think?" 

James, dressed in all white with embroidered lapels, rolled his eyes and frowned as he watched the Prince.  "He'll never get married if he keeps acting like this, never form a true bond with anyone." 

A huff came from Peter, who looked the worst out of the three of them (according to Sirius), in a simple brown waistcoat. He held his prized pocket watch in his hand, constantly checking the time to ensure the party was running smoothly.  "The prince's love life isn't really any of our business, Sirius." 

Peter Pettigrew, to say the least, was a suck up, and nothing but loyal to the royal family. It was in his blood; his family having served the royal family for decades. Naturally, he started working under his father in the administrative department and moving ranks until he was appointed head of house, managing the rest of the staff as His Highness' right-hand man. 

James Potter credits everything he has now to his beautiful mother, Euphemia, who was an incredible seamstress who worked in the castle years prior. Now, James assists the young master with his clothing as well as leads the housekeeping staff with his mini assistant Harry, who's favorite thing to do is fold the towels into swans. 

Sirius met James when they worked together at a pub in town before James accepted his position among the royal staff. He was an orphan who had run away from his abusive foster parents. Euphemia felt for the boy and had immediately taken them in like her own son. Cooking meals with his new family ignited his love for food and with help from the Potters, had gone to culinary school. Later, with James's help, began as a waiter at the castle turned kitchen manager. 

Prince Remus, to be frank, doesn't love, not really once his mother had passed. Once under the orders of his father, his image, and the people he surrounded himself with became a priority. Being human was being vulnerable, and being vulnerable was being weak. That's why he found himself surrounded by attractive women, knowing that each one hanging onto his arm believed that they would be the one he fell in love with, inheriting his fortune and power. His arm was around one of the maidens' waists, loosely spinning her as his eyes scanned the room for someone more interesting. 

"My lord, I can't help but believe you might have an interest in me. this is the second time we've danced tonight; you need not be so shy." 

His eyes dropped back to Amelie? Emily? who blushed under his gaze, looking up at him through her fluttering eyelashes. He scoffed and retracted his hand from her waist, pushing past her towards another, ignoring her pleas and attempts to grab his arm. As much fun as he had being the center of attention and being the one everyone wanted to be with, he despised the desperate ones, none of them being worth his actual time. 

"Papa, I brought the napkins you asked for!" 

Sirius, James, and Peter turned to find Harry, James's son, holding a stack of cloth napkins up to him with a bright smile, his glasses sliding down his nose. James grinned as he took the napkins from Harry, pushing his glasses back up his nose and fixing his hair. 

"Great job Harry, now run along." 

"You've got him working already Potter? A chip off the old block, that one is." Peter chuckled, smiling along his colleagues as they watched little Harry skip away. 

The doors suddenly burst open, a woman in a cloak falling to the ground, her hood slipping and exposing her ratty grey hair. The maidens closest to the door gasped and squealed as they backed up, trying to distance themselves from the old woman. The music has stopped, Prince Remus weaving his way through the crowd to stand before the elderly intruder. 

"Who let you in, peasant? This ball is invite only." 

The woman looked up, her cloudy grey eyes looking into the Prince's. She held up a single rose, offering him the flower for temporary shelter from the cold. Prince Remus scoffed, rolling his eyes at the woman. The party goers laughed at the old woman from the other side of the ballroom. 

A smirk appeared on the old woman's face, as her body under the cloak began to glow a warm yellow, what seemed liked enchanted haze spreading towards the aghast party goers. Flower petals began to float around the woman as she transformed into a younger, more beautiful version of herself, her now bright blue eyes staring into the Prince's. The guests screamed at they scrambled to escape the sorcery they've witnessed, polished shoes trampling over expensive fabric and rose petals. 

The royal staff looked on in fear, not knowing how to help their master in this situation. James weaved through the people rushing out and found Harry hiding in a corner. He picked him up and turned to head out the door but stopped when he heard a deep growl coming from the center of the room. 

The cloud of magic enveloped Prince Remus, his bones cracking and expanding as his body slowly transformed him into a large, furry monster. His perfect silk robes tearing and falling off the Prince's new body. Large curved horns grew out of his head, and his perfect teeth evolved into sharp fangs. His once perfect appearance turned into one of a menacing animal. 

The young Prince had failed his test from the enchantress. He had not shown kindness to a stranger in need and had confirmed his own selfishness and entitlement. He was mean and ugly on the inside, so she had turned him into who he really was, a beast. Adding on to that, she left a powerful spell on the castle and villagers, turning the royal staff into household objects for allowing the Prince's behavior, and erasing all memory of the royal castle and its inhabitants from the villagers. The curse was infinite, unless the prince managed to make someone fall in love with him. 

Over the years the castle grew colder, lonelier as Remus and his staff became more hopeless for a chance to end the curse. Snow had fallen over the crumbling castle and grounds, the bitterness of the cold outside matching what Remus was feeling in his heart. 

 He was doomed, turned into a disgusting monster for the rest of his days, because who could ever learn to love a beast? 

[viking-raider]

Me: Fantasizing about a modern day/personal twist, Beauty in the Beast, with Henry and probably reader.

Also me: Sshhh, Muse! It's fucking bed time! Dream about it! So I can sleep xD