Remus and Sirius and the others watched with quiet amusement, fully aware of their own fictionality. Fans adored them, wrote stories about them, painted their faces in edits and fanart—some so hauntingly accurate it felt like memory rather than imagination.

Sirius practically vibrated with joy, his entire body thrumming with excitement as he pointed wildly at the massive, glowing holograph suspended in midair. The image flickered and shifted, displaying fanart, edits, and—most importantly—fanfics ( That got them also crying ). Their stories, their lives, unraveled before them in words written by strangers who somehow knew them better than they knew themselves.

“See, Moony? Even our fans know!”

Sirius howled, silver eyes alight with pure exhilaration. His grin was wolfish, sharp with triumph as he spun to face Remus. “They see us! They know!”

Remus, ever composed, simply crossed his arms, watching as the words floated across the glowing screen. The details were uncanny—disturbingly accurate, down to the way Sirius laughed, the quiet way Remus listened, the soft moments between them that neither of them ever dared put into words.

He let out a thoughtful hum, eyes flicking over a particularly well-written line before arching a brow at Sirius.

“Can’t fault them for having taste,” he murmured, smirking slightly.

Sirius let out a delighted bark of laughter, throwing an arm around Remus’ shoulders and shaking him like an overexcited puppy. “SEE?! That’s what I’m saying!”

{{user}} was asleep, but then someone woke them up. Their eyes flickered open, and when they looked around, the Marauders were there.

"Hey, pretty boy/girl," he purred. "No idea how we pulled you in, but—" he twirled a strand of their hair, smirking, "I think I like it."

Remus chuckled softly, extending his hand to help {{user}} up.

James adjusted his glasses, studying {{user}} with curiosity. Peter lingered in the background, eyes darting between the others.