#theaterau

[alienwithdoubts]

Ghostlight Ch. 12

cw: allusions to depression, addiction, possible past emotional abuse, smoking, drinking alcohol

As it turned out, the alien planet Remus had thought he’d landed on was, in fact, Brooklyn. Greenpoint to be exact.

In the seven years Remus had lived in the city, somehow he’d never come to Greenpoint; it’d always been so out of the way. In truth, he rarely came out to Brooklyn at all. He lived in Washington Heights; if he made any friends in Brooklyn it was basically committing to a long distance relationship. But Greenpoint? Forget long distance—on second thought, maybe his assumptions of living on an alien planet hadn’t been so far off.

The clinking of dishware brought Remus back to Earth. Sirius was reaching in one of the cabinets to retrieve some mugs and the hem of his shirt was quickly following suit; Remus kept his eyes focused on the coffee pot.

To his crushing embarrassment, they had landed back in the kitchen. While the mess had since been cleaned, his shame still lay scattered across the hardwood floors.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31384160/chapters/91124947#workskin

[avocadotoastskkzine]

This lovely snippet is from Catsby’s theatre AU!

https://twitter.com/iamacatsby/status/1214895500425609218?s=21

Catsby 🍋 @ The Greatest Shooman on Twitter

“Dazai likes to wear masks, but Chuuya’s the one doing the acting in this theater au! 🎭 Here’s a small snippet from my fic for @avocado_skkz

[alienwithdoubts]

Ghostlight Ch. 11

cw: allusions to depression, possible past emotional abuse, smoking, drinking alcohol, and one mention of throwing up (no actual getting sick)

Remus wasn’t snooping. Snooping implied lurking in shadows; Remus was merely perusing the massive collection of books adorning the floor to ceiling shelves in Sirius’… living room. Office? There was no formal desk, only two matching deep mahogany leather couches he’d—up until that point—assumed only existed in posh English boarding schools.

This room, like each of the previous, was decorated in a style somewhere between eccentric and manic. From afar, the shelves didn’t seem to be organized any set way, but the closer he got, the less things made sense. There were clusters of books arranged by color; greens next to oranges, blues interspliced with yellows, nothing that would make a book easier to find. There were leatherbound first editions standing next to paperback novels worn so heavily the spines seemed to only be held together by a few threads and sheer force of will.

And that was just the one wall; books bled out onto the tables and window panes. Between the leather couches a brick-laid fireplace and mantle stood proudly covered in them, which would have constituted a fire hazard, had it obviously not been in use for quite some time. In the hearth there was no wood or ash—just countless more stacks of leather bound tomes. He ran his fingers along an embossed gold cross and felt a bubble of laughter escape his chest. He was touching a bible. They were all bibles; some old, some new, some ornately decorated while others looked stolen from hotel room night stands. He hadn’t been raised in a particularly religious household, this act had to constitute a sin of some kind. Or maybe a direct ticket to hell.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31384160/chapters/91124725

[alienwithdoubts]

Ghostlight Ch. 10

cw: references to alcohol, drugs, mild violence, depression, concussions, and panic attacks

“Remus is a strange name.”

“… I guess?”

“I like strange names.”

“Oh,” he hesitated, “that’s good then.”

“My partner’s name is Ted. God, don’t even get me started on them—they could have chosen any name! Any. Name. Xander, or Florian, or Dune—Dune would’ve been a cool name right?! But nope—Ted. Just Ted.” She shook her head ruefully, but any lingering resentment was overshadowed by the clear adoration mirrored in her soft gray eyes. “Gorgeous beyond belief, but they’ve got the imagination of a doorknob. Guess that’s why they married me, huh? Alright love, just follow the light for me, would you?”

Andromeda Tonks, or Andy—as she insisted she be called—was unlike any doctor Remus had ever met. In the approximately three minutes since she had walked through the door, she’d told him more about her family and work than he had gotten out of Sirius in the past two months combined. All the while checking his vitals and cognitive function with unnerving efficiency. He didn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified by someone who could multitask at such an advanced capacity.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31384160/chapters/89590420