Jul 15
Prongsfoot haalingham AU when?
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Prongsfoot haalingham AU when?
in the woods somewhere | part 23 @dailyprongsfoot prompt May 2026 | 22: dark | AO3 | start at part 1
It's already dark when they finally arrive at the gates to the castle.
“Who's there?” a voice demands of them, a little shaky. The knight at the gate draws his sword and nearly drops it in his haste, trying but failing to cover the fact that he was thoroughly distracted from his duty by playing cards with himself.
James grins. “Hello Peter.”
Peter's eyes widen as they adjust to the patch of darkness James is standing in. “Y-your Highness!”
“Any good card pulls?” James steps into the pool of light that surrounds the gate, leading Nimbus by the reins. He can see the exact moment Peter realises James isn't alone. His blue eyes go even wider as he openly stares at Sirius.
“Shouldn't you be answering your prince's question?” Sirius drawls, an eyebrow raised at Peter.
Peter flushes furiously. “No... no luck, Your Highness.”
“Shocking,” Sirius says. James pushes his elbow into the mage's side.
For an awkward moment, Peter just stares at them before he seems to remember his duties. “I'll notify the castle of your return, Your Highness. Immediately.” He turns to reach for a small orb in the gate, a way to communicate with the castle proper, but James is faster. He catches Peter's wrist before he can send out the alarm.
“There is no need. Just open the gates for us, we'll take it from here.”
Peter looks at him, a bit startled at the sudden touch, then nods slowly. “Of-of course, Your Highness.”
The gate swings open only moments later. “Thank you, Peter,” James says as they pass through. “Have a good rest of your shift.”
“You didn't tell me you have a fanboy,” Sirius says when they have left Peter behind and follow the pathway through the courtyard to the stables.
James pushes his elbow into his side again.
“Hi Remus.”
The young man nearly drops the scrolls and papers he's holding, his eyes wide when James steps out from behind a tapestry like a ghost. “James! I mean, Your Highness,” he quickly corrects himself when he sees James isn't alone. “We didn't get any alerts from the gate of your return.”
“That's fine, I told Peter not to do it.” James grins. “I wanted it to be a surprise. Are my parents still awake?”
Remus nods, still clinging to the slippery papers. “In the study.”
“Thank you.” James starts down the corridor, but stops himself again before he can get very far. He points at his companion. “Oh, that's Sirius, by the way.”
Then he turns again and basically skips down the corridor in his haste to get to the study.
“Nice to meet you.” Remus wins the fight against the papers and shifts all the scrolls into one arm, offering his now free hand to Sirius. Sirius takes the hand and shakes it. As soon as their fingers brush, his expression changes from bored to keenly interested.
Remus winces and barely resists the urge to rip his hand away from the other man's grip. It can only mean one thing – he's a mage. Mages can sense Remus' werewolf nature by touch alone, a strange part of their magic reacting to the moon curse.
Sirius looks him up and down, his grey eyes taking in every detail. It makes Remus feel like he's a rabbit sitting in a trap in front of a hunting dog.
“You're interesting,” Sirius says as he pulls his hand back, like it's a stamp of approval. “Remus, was it?”
Remus can only nod.
A grin spreads on Sirius' face, one that can only mean doom for Remus. “We'll talk again,” he says, then he turns without another word and follows James down the corridor, leaving Remus to clutch the scrolls to his chest like he's trying to use them as a very unsuccessful shield.
James slowly pushes the door to the study open.
“Is there anything else, Remus?” his father asks from the desk in front of the fireplace, too busy with his parchment to look up from it. “Give me a second and I will –”
“No need to rush, father,” James says with a fond smile. “I can wait.”
“Jamie!” His mother leaps from her chair next to his father, the scroll she was reading from falling forgotten to the floor. She's at the door in a flurry of skirts and crushes him in a hug, barely letting him finish that sentence before she squeezes the air out of his lungs. “Oh, my darling son, what took you so long? Spring is already well on its way and we expected you back ages ago.”
“If you want your son to be able to tell you about his adventures, maybe you should leave his ribs intact,” James laughs into her hair, but he's squeezing her back just as tightly.
Euphemia huffs a laugh and pulls back a little. She looks at him like she's ready to drink in every little change he might have gone through. Reaching up, she brushes her hand against his cheek. James leans into the touch, making her smile. “We were so close to sending out a search party.”
“You were close,” his father chuckles, having made his way over to the door as well. “I was willing to wait until the day before the spring festival. You would never skip a good party willingly, James.”
James grins and leans into his father's embrace, once his mother has made room for him. “As you see you're right. I'm perfectly on time for that.”
“And it seems that you have brought someone to celebrate with us.”
James steps out of his father's arms to see his mother has spotted Sirius, who has held himself back from the family reunion. “I have.” James reaches over and tugs Sirius closer by his arm. “This is Sirius Black, my mage.”
“Sirius?” Fleamont asks, surprised. “Is it possible I might have heard that name before?”
“Indeed it is, Your Majesty.” Sirius gives the king and queen a gallant bow. “I was supposed to arrive at the castle last spring. I apologise for my delay.”
“Oh, you will have to tell us all about that,” Euphemia says, just as delighted as James had been about the supposed fate that had pushed them together. Before Sirius can even blink, he's engulfed in a crushing hug of his own. “I can't wait to hear everything about your adventures.”
“But first,” Fleamont says and takes over with a hug of his own. Sirius looks pretty startled by all that casual affection. “We need to get some food into both of you.”
“And we need to get rooms ready too, so you can rest after you've told me everything!” Euphemia already reaches for the door to go and set things up.
“There is no need to make a big fuss about us this late in the evening,” James says with a laugh, stopping her before she can rush out of the door. “Just my room will be enough. We've gotten quite used to sharing a bed after all.”
James winks at Sirius over his mother's head.
Sirius tries really hard not to blush in front of James' parents.
I want to translate one of my fics about James and Sirius kissing in a pile of Valentine cards they got in English, but I realise I need a master's degree in swearing in English to do that. I don't know anything other than f*ck and damn😭
James and Sirius being homoerotic bsfs but it's lwk all platonic
like they'd kiss eachother on the lips, cuddle in bed, hold toes with eachother, and smack each others asses
Mind you both are dating their respective partners and all Lily and Remus can do is stare dumbfounded
they'd be on a double date and Sirius would do some bullshit like "can I like lick whip cream off it?" and James with ZERO hesitation goes "YES!"
https://archiveofourown.org/works/88572311
Hi everyone! I've just started writing a new Prongsfoot fanfic, "Chiaroscuro"! It is a university AU, James is a soccer player (sorry I am basing it in the US!) and Sirius is an art major! I would absolutely love if you checked it out. Here is a snippet:
Sirius had a problem. A blessing and a curse. All of his art had started to take the same shape. It didn’t matter if he used charcoal, paint, or sculpture; they all began to look the same. Well, his friends couldn’t tell that the works were painfully similar, especially across mediums, but Sirius absolutely could. Soon after starting a new project, Sirius would watch it grow a life of its own, resembling the same thing as all of his other works: the man from across the bar.
At least Sirius never seemed to tire of inspiration. All he had to do was close his eyes and picture the man’s gorgeous copper skin, dark, curled hair that always appeared tussled by the wind, and a smile that radiated warmth. If somehow that wasn’t enough, Sirius would think of the man’s broad shoulders and toned arms. He would think of the tight shirts the man wore, leaving nothing to the imagination. The man was really only begging Sirius to picture him with his shirt off.
Though the two had never come face to face outside of Sirius’s favorite bar and club, the other man was taking over Sirius’s life. Sirius’s roommate, Remus, whom he had met in his first year at university, begged to differ. Remus— always the realist, liked to see things in plain terms. Sirius was the opposite, looking at the expansive meaning beyond first glances. It was the trait that made Sirius such a tremendous artist.
“How could this guy be in all of your paintings, Sirius?” questioned Remus.
Sirius threw his hands up in the air, careful of the paint on his fingertips as he brought the back of his wrists to scratch at his eyebrow and then rest at his hips.
“This painting is supposed to be based on the word ‘glory.’ How am I going to explain to my professor that the inspiration is just him?” complained Sirius.
Remus leaned over the canvas from the side of Sirius’s chair. “He’s a stranger, Sirius! I don’t even see a person,” Remus asked.
“Oh, Remus,” Sirius sighed, “he is so much more than a person.”
“You are head over heels,” Remus chuckled before attempting to offer a solution. “I mean, these light strips look a bit like glory to me.”
Sirius sighed and gestured to the painting. “Those light strips are the strobe lights in the club.” He pointed to another corner, where flames seemed to rise from ashes. “God Remus, even the fire is the shade of his auburn eyes.”
“I was wondering why the fire was less…red.”
Sirius snorted, exasperated, and leaned into Remus’s arm. Forgetting about the paint on his hands, he dragged his fingers across his face and down his eyes.
Hey lovelies! I would absolutely love some feedback on my newest fic, a Prongsfoot University AU! I have been having the most fun writing it, and I can’t wait to keep going!
Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sirius Black/James Potter, Regulus Black/Remus Lupin, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Mary Macdonald/Lily Evans Potter Characters: Peter Pettigrew Additional Tags: Regulus Black and Sirius Black Angst, prongsfoot - Freeform, Alternate Universe - College/University, Football | Soccer, Football | Soccer Player James Potter, Artist Sirius Black, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, author will add tags as the story progresses Summary:
Chiaroscuro - An Italian artistic technique combining the words chiaro (light) and oscuro (dark), which employs stark contrast to embed subjects with three-dimensional volume.
prongsfoot makes me so feral, they’re my ride or die