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    He was smiling to himself, eyes still closed, and Sirius hadn't known at the time - but by Fifth Year would realise well enough - where this Remus had come from. He was always a little wild, somehow both impossibly distant and blindingly, achingly present, all at once, and in the beginning Sirius had ascribed it entirely to Remus's own innate nature or some sort of slight chemical neurodivergence that made him just a little bit more than the rest of them; a little bit magic, a little bit mad. Freer than the others. A tempest in an otherwise still ocean.

    The boys at boarding school, told in libraries and cloisters and too much alcohol and the way Remus thinks none of it matters, anyway.

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    23 Feb 2025

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Remus Lupin's friends have always known him to be a happy, healthy person. That's why it comes as a complete shock when he returns to school different; a mere shell of the person he once was. All of his light seems to have been replaced by bitter anger and desperate sadness, and none of his friends know why.
    or; what happens when Remus is bitten in the summer before fifth year instead of when he was five

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    12 Jan 2025

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    When Sirius impulsively drinks veritaserum, two other Marauders have to keep him from spilling his feelings for a certain someone

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    30 Dec 2024

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    There's something blazingly incongruous about Remus in the wintertime. He's golden: sunshine and honeybees, caramel curls and freckles like dappled sunlight. Even his clothes seem borrowed, and temporary, as if he might've just thrown on an extra layer for a moment in the knowledge that his own innate aestival nature would be quite enough to stave off the worst of the chill. Something at home in long balmy nights, and mornings when the gardens teem with life and song. Wonderfully out of place in the winter: a happy visitor to the season, an ember in the frost.

    Christmastime in the Cotswolds: cold hands, crackling fires, and Remus's indefatigable quest for parsnips.

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    05 Nov 2024

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    "I loved you. I loved you and perhaps I still do. How selfish. How cruel of a thought."

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    04 Nov 2024