#halictus-writer

[halictus-writer]

Pedagogy to the Test

My new wolfstar fic, Pedagogy to the Test, has landed on AO3! This is a multi chapter sequel to Teaching and Learning. It's spring, and Sirius is staying at Hogwarts.

I think we can all use a comforting tale right now. This will be about the same length as Teaching and Learning, and I'll post new chapters regularly. Chapter two will be posted in about a week.

I hope you enjoy it!

[mlim8]

I'm wishing Rembus a very pleasant day/afternoon/night. Also, does he sleep? If so, how? (You're an amazing artist, thank you for making and sharing your art!) :))

Rembus: Sometimes, I’ll sleep, just to pass the time 

[goodboylupin]

It’s that time!! I’m excited 🍬💕

I give my great big box of candy hearts a shake...

I open it up to pull one out for @halictus-writer and see the inscription...

E MAIL

[wolfstar-in-color]

Weekly Fic Rec

Fic: Forget-Me-Not, by halictus, @halictus-writer

Rating: Teen and up.

Genre: Romance, light relational angst. Non-magical, modern day AU. Memory loss and relationship development.

Word count:  12.9K, 6 chapters, completed.

Summary: For someone who just woke up with amnesia and a bad concussion, Remus Lupin isn't too dispirited. He'll get through it with the help of his friends, taking it one day at a time, as Sirius says. The only (other) problem? There's something important that he's forgetting.

Major CW: Memory loss and short-term memory issues, light angst centered mostly in the relationship between Sirius and Remus, but also some reflections on Remus’ memory loss. There are some glimpses at internalized homophobia related to religious guilt, but it’s not the focus of the story and it’s easily resolved by the character.

Mod Moth thoughts: This story is so complex and has so many levels, and still, stays faithful to itself. It has a good mixture of keeping things light and soft while also dipping its toes in light angst. The best way I have to describe it is based on the atmosphere - slightly sad and bittersweet, even with the happy ending. Remus and Sirius are very careful and soft here, and the way they move around each other makes your heart ache with the most beautiful longing. Their friendship is very honest and real, and the ending explains perfectly where the cracks in their relationship were, and how Remus’ doubts and hesitance is legitimate. An amazing work of more ‘casual’ representation, where the focus is not the social identities or disabilities of the characters (but let me tell you, Latino, disabled Remus holds a especial place in my heart), but they still are part of who they are.

Read it on AO3!

[fforsythiaaa]

I like option 5 through the weekend, but then mixing 4 and either 2 or 1 sounds fun! Sending you good vibes either way:)

this is the perfect approach. you’re absolutely right. why choose?!?

thank you thank you for sweet words and good vibes 🥰

[halictus-writer]

Plus One in the Tropics

My latest wolfstar AU is now complete! Feel free to check it out on AO3.

Remus attends a tropical biology conference as the plus one of an invited speaker, soon-to-be Dr. Sirius Black. The only problem? They're just friends. And Sirius is seeing someone else. Right? Why did Sirius invite him? At least the weather's nice.

16k words, rated teen. I hope you like it!

Link to AO3 here

[halictus-writer]

Wolfstar reaper AU (700 words)

Everything is hazy, and time flows inconsistently for what must be a while. Flickers of recent memory feel dreamlike, drifting away, but memories of life are still clear. Remus knows he is dead now, that much is certain. And yet, he still hasn’t gone on, to whatever is next. He is stuck somehow. Haze drifts back in. If he sleeps, then he dreams of ice blue eyes, and the sight of them honed in on himself, as he walked up the subway steps with hundreds of others.

The others had passed through, accompanied by three other cloaked figures—reapers—but Remus had stayed. This happened more than once. The reaper who watched him eventually spoke, or Remus dreamt he had. His name is Sirius. Remus remembers that much.

They’re standing alone together now, in the subway station.

“I mean,” Remus starts. “It’s a big commitment.”

“Yes.”

“Hundreds of years,” Remus realizes while saying it. “Of this.”

“Thousands, sometimes,” the reaper corrects. “I believe.”

“How?”

“Well.” The reaper thinks, and glances around. He taps something against the cobbled wall behind them. It’s the first time Remus notices the anachronism of their surroundings. Amidst a yellow-glowing subway station, two flights of stairs stretch up, then round a corner out of sight. The cobblestone wall stretches backwards behind them, lush grass on the other side.

The reaper jumps up to sit atop the wall. He swings his legs, making him look younger. “One does it for a long time, until they lose their humanity.”

Remus shifts, uncomfortable.

“It helps to have attachments,” the reaper adds.

“Attachments to what? This is just limbo. Isn’t it?”

The reaper—Sirius—turns to face Remus directly. Remus tries to not look away. His face is hauntingly handsome, even despite their situation. “Attachments to others. Others they love.”

Remus breathes in, then out, then sits on the wall as well. He can remember his life easily, but he also remembers walking up these subway station stairs over and over, surrounded by other people. Other people that aren’t here anymore. “How long have I been here already? In this, this, pseudo-death?”

“The in-between?” Sirius offers.

“Yes.”

The reaper doesn’t answer.

“How long have you been here?” Remus asks.

“A long time.”

“How long?” “Hundreds of years, definitely. Possibly thousands.”

“How have you done it? Maintained your… humanity, I guess?”

The reaper stills his hand. Remus doesn’t notice until the sound stops, but Sirius had been tapping something against the wall. It looks like an ancient coin, possibly medieval.

“It was foretold that I would get to love someone eventually.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

Remus concentrates on their surroundings. He can almost see the walls shimmer under scrutiny. “Is that person me?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose I don’t have a choice. I have to become one of you and stay here.” To become a reaper, and spend an indefinite time helping humans cross between life and death. To Remus it feels… cold.

“There is always a choice, Remus Lupin. Do not forget that you must always choose your own path.”

“What happens if I stay?”

“Then you stay.”

“What happens if I go?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” the reaper admits. “I would free your soul from your body, and both would depart this space. Both would have peace, for you were good in life, but I don’t believe that peace would be something you consider consciousness.”

“Okay. Then I’m choosing.”

“What are you choosing, Remus Lupin?”

“I’m choosing to stay.”

Sirius looks up, breath catching. “You must be certain. Are you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“For the rituals to work, I mean. Do you have a strong reason to stay and become who you will? And do what you will do?”

Remus thinks. He thinks for a long time—they seem to have nothing but it here. They just sit in silence; Sirius taps his coin again. Eventually, Remus speaks.

“In life, I had friends, and I had a pleasant network of people who supported me, and who I supported. I don’t quite know why I had to die so young, but I know these things sometimes just happen. But I’ve never been in love. I would like to know what that’s like.”

Sirius looks at him. “I love you, Remus Lupin. I have loved you your entire life.”

[halictus-writer]

Funeral Suit - wolf star microfic

743 words, pre-slash. Rated teen.

He came by in his funeral suit.

Against the black clothes—jacket, shirt, tie—his skin was pale, but his smile was warm, and finally at ease. Remus opened the door wider to let him in, surprised to see him, especially today.

Sirius’s smile grew. “Well?”

“I haven’t got ingredients for dinner,” Remus confessed. “Or at least not a good one.”

“Then let’s go get dinner.” Sirius said it matter-of-factly, but his bright eyes verged on teasing.

Remus accepted the challenge, raising his chin. It helped that Sirius had already sat on his dingy couch. “If you’re buying.”

Sirius stood. “It’s good to see you.”

Remus swallowed, and bowed his head.

They both stood still, and arm’s length apart.

“I should put on nicer clothes if we’re going out. To match.”

Amused, Sirius merely stayed in place, eyes on the closed door to Remus’s studio, listening to the sounds of Remus undressing and redressing behind him.

“Okay,” Remus said. He was quite a bit less formal than Sirius, but he had done what he could. Sirius wouldn’t care, anyway.

“Let’s go.”

As Remus passed him to open the door, Sirius placed his hand against Remus’s back gently, maybe sensing if not properly feeling warm skin under his dress shirt and corduroy fabric jacket.

It was new. Remus stilled for only a moment before continuing to open the door and step out.

They walked down a bright afternoon sidewalk—the funeral was held in the morning—rarely talking, but instead settling into a comfortable silence. Sirius’s shoes shone in the light. He kicked a fallen branch of shrubbery to this side, likely creating a scuff.

Eventually they sat at a bistro table, eating sandwiches.

After, they allowed their feet to carry them further into the city. Remus didn’t quite want to let Sirius go—“letting him go” as some kind of acquiesce, of losing this version of him—and so they meandered on. It felt natural, though.

Sirius pointed, and Remus looked at the tasting room that was just opening.

“I don’t think I’m dressed fancily enough for that.”

Remus sensed without needing to turn and watch Sirius’s eyes roll back into his head.

“Give me your jacket,” Sirius said.

They switched jackets, right there on the sidewalk, in front of the sommelier, partially laughing at him, together, because they were getting away with it, and they were about to drink wine together at only four in the afternoon, and Remus felt happy.

In the end they landed back inside Remus’s studio apartment.

Sirius took the liberty of opening Remus’s liquor cabinet. “The Campbeltown or the Lowland?”

“I can’t taste the difference.”

Sirius grinned back at him, in the low kitchen light, and then turned to grab glasses.

Sunset shone in the windows, casting dusty gold rectangles onto the floor and furniture.

Remus tried to give back Sirius’s jacket, but he didn’t put it on. Instead Sirius only took off the one he wore—Remus’s—and draped it carefully over one of Remus’s two chairs. He took his own suit jacket out of Remus’s hands and dropped it in a bundle onto the table.

“Dance with me?” Sirius said.

It was impossible, although somehow today it wasn’t, and so Remus did. They stood first an arm’s length apart, barely touching each other’s shoulders, swaying to inaudible music. At some point, though, Sirius laughed, and suddenly pulled Remus close. It was still impossible, but it somehow felt natural.

Remus sighed, smiling into Sirius’s shoulder. They continued to sway.

The next day, Sirius pieced together his funeral suit from Remus’s floor, put it back on, and said his goodbye.

Moments after Remus closed the door behind him, Sirius knocked.

“Yeah?” Remus asked.

Sirius’s face was set with determination. Wordlessly, he grabbed Remus’s face and kissed him hard, against lips he had wanted for years and had never truly known until last night.

They separated, both breathing hard.

“That’s all,” Sirius said, and backed away again without removing his eyes from Remus.

“Come back tonight,” Remus said. It wasn’t a question, and even though he felt he had been plunged into some realm of disbelief, he wasn’t going to let it pass. There was a past he knew well, between him and Sirius, and then there was an unknown future, and yet here he was, in some beautiful present. In the doorway of his shoddy apartment, watching Sirius watch him, disheveled clothes and handsome face.

“I will.”