#wilclthing

[wilclchildarchive-blog]

wilclthing.

        ‘ ah, mish moonypenny----!!!                                  lemme   tell    you   the                                 shecrets of thish world. ‘

[prongser-blog]

            ‘ moony. ’

                       a grave expression; so unusual on        james’ rounded, cheerful face; but one that is always telling of a        recent occurrence that has shook him to his core.     or, at least,        something that has happened as a result of his    c o n s t a n t        misbehaving. he looks,  now,   to remus for support on this dark,        dark day.

                        ‘ -------- i did a bad thing. ’

[wilclchildarchive-blog]

addiikti.

         … ————— oh.  no.  he’s.  oh.

         no, no. he can’t be.  he’s — he’s sirius!!  he’s never done with anything.          always adding to things  &  never taking anything for face value.     he’s          sirius. he can’t be done.  he can’t be. this must be a joke. so he laughs.

              ( but it’s. it’s  not a joke, is it? he’s actually… he’s  s e r i o u s . )

                    ‘ … —————— what do you mean? ’

              tone quiet.      ( very quiet. )   &  equally as quiet as he is hopeful of his               own response an emotional overreaction.   even if it makes sense that               he  should  be worried about that.      because he slept on the couch               last night.  &  his apparatus is still out.     &  he forgot to feed the dogs.               again.  &  he’s wearing the same clothes he wore last week. AGAIN.

          it’s not easy. of course it isn’t ---- but then, when did he think it           would be? how could it be  e a s y ? but then, that’s exactly how           it looks, is it not? for sirius, as he stands there, && does so with           such an expression--------

                                    ‘ m’done, ira. i ain’t doin’ it. ‘

                not ‘i can’t’, which might be more accurate. just that he                 isn’t. on some levels, that’s better; at least he can say                 he’s not making up excuses, && at least he maintains                 some kind of  ( needless )  agency.  ----right? ...right. 

                                that this was a  c h o i c e, not something he’d slowly                                 left to rot && let happen through mindless NEGLECT.

                      ‘ i’m not doing t h i s. US. wha’ever                         you wanna call it, i don’t wan’ it. ‘

                  as if he wasn’t doing a perfectly stellar job himself, he’ll look                   immediately to remus for some kind of help or guidance, imm-                   ediately having assumed that  ( even after their t a l k )  he’d                   have his SUPPORT.

                                                                 ‘ i---- look at you!!! ‘

[moreadmirable-blog]

*sends you remus for the character meme uwu

send me a character!

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUSship with: can i just like can i ship remus with happiness & not hating himself & being loved like is this a thing???? that can happen????favourite friendship: sometimes i think about sirius & remus but then i weep so i prefer not to do that tbh. |:general opinions: he’s not dead he’s just hiding silly werewolf /sweats

[lixnheart]

‘ wilclthing.

     “ uncle moony ---- / uncle moony / --- wake up, c’mon !! “

[wilclchildarchive-blog]

chin up.

     what can the first year do, for now, besides pace the corridor in his indecision. oh, he knows exactly how to get into the place; tickle the pear. he && james had managed to figure that out a fair few weeks ago, && so getting in physically wasn't the issue.

    this, he knew, was ridiculous.

    still, after having investigated  ( admittedly, very briefly )  the first time, he wasn't entirely... keen on entering yet again. ah, but the call of the kitchen was a strong one, && upon leaning against the painting he was almost certain he could smell whatever the house elves were cooking in there, rather than the aged oils of the piece itself. gravy. he could smell gravy, && something akin to that was what had, initially, given the place away ---- though then, it had been the scent of treacle tart.

    even with that thought, he can't quite go in yet.

                ' professor jigger? '

    never has he traditionally knocked upon a door. never has he needed to, && so, upon reaching the defence against the dark arts classroom, he doesn't hesitate before poking his head around the door.

    what he sees is somewhat bizarre; chest upon chest, the majority of which are open, lined either side of the room somewhat menacingly. && it's the chains that have been discarded from each that first attract his attention; for what use had they for chains, if not to lock away something... malevolent.

    something malevolent which he will, at once, see.

    perhaps not malevolent to him, per se ---- some of the boggarts within the room are downright laughable, && for a moment, he does laugh! can't help but do so, because who on earth would fear half of that which he stood to witness? even he, only just having turned twelve, knew that especially in this day && age, in the years of W A R, there were far worse things to be frightened of.

                ' oi, is professor jigger----? '

    far worse things. things such as, say, house elves.

    ah yes; his mother's sentimental little collection had certainly left its mark.

    particularly the one he recalled once having lived. kreacher's lineage, arguably, was as long, as pure, && as messed up as his own blasted one. as riddled with inbreeding as one could imagine, && if house elves had a hierarchy much alike wizards, his would surely be a respected one, showcased by the plaques their heads were mounted upon, && the glass cases in which some might stand.

    but to see them walking towards him, in the flesh------

    && so, his hesitation to go on into the kitchen isn't too difficult to understand; they must be in their hundreds in there, for them to be serving up food for the entire school's population, amongst every other duty they serve. && honestly, he'll try not to think about that -- he  l o a t h e s  the idea of another little kreacher going into his dormitory && touching his things...

    still, what an incentive he now has, after witnessing what he did----

    he's got to do it. he has to.

    he can't believe he's having an internal argument on whether or not he ought to tickle a damn pear.

    it's that thought that has him; that this hesitation... well, it's pointless, is it not? he knows he's going to do it, knows that now he's here, now he's embracing it, he's going to be the GRYFFINDOR!!! he surely shoudn't be.

    upon finally managing to get inside, scowling at the little pear in determination rather than laughing along with it, he’ll push open the door, the knob finally having revealed itself.

    already, they weren't to be what he'd expected; nothing of the sort, in fact. for, rather than sneering lips && black shark eyes, they offer smiles, bequest what they might get for the 'master', one tugging him on by a shaking hand towards one of the five tables, achingly familiar in look && position.

    &&, of course, he'd find himself sat where he was fairly certain the gryffindor stood directly above within the great hall, though having not yet read hogwarts: a  history  ( but will he ever? )  he can't really know for sure. still, he'd always learnt far better from experience, && so doesn't particularly let it bother him.

    what does bother him, however, is truly how nice they all are -- how accommodating, to the extent that it's rather... he's hesitant to say mothering, but having witnessed on occasion how it's supposed to be... yes. perhaps that is the most accurate of terms to use, however wrong it seems ---- && believe it, it felt entirely wrong. he'd feel guilty for both cringing away, && somewhat disturbed by how comfortable he was with them; hundreds, an entire legion, all bustling about this cavernous room.

                ' a drink for the little master? '

                ' i'm-- i'm fine, cheers. '

    he liked the word cheers -- james said it a lot, && there was something about him that encouraged those around him to   a d a p t.

                ' or a little something to  e a t ? '

                ' i... do you have any chocolate? '

    now, sirius had hardly lived in an environment where chocolate was so readily given. not bars, in the very least, for though his family had class, money, && stature, he couldn't say any of them were particularly happy. for a good year now, he hadn't been able to understand why they were so prepared to settle in their bitter refuge, rather than seeking the sun. && he was only in the start of his enlightenment -- how much further could his disdain  ( yes, already disdain! )  for his old life get?

    the first time he'd had a bar of chocolate had been at ten years old, within that one month -- the month that would, arguably, start it all

                ' it's not for me, it's for a friend. '

    stepping into the library for the second time that day  ( perhaps the third time ever )  he's very well aware of the 'no food' rule within this unfamiliar territory, but this is him ---- && so why would he care? still, when it concerned remus being in the state sirius had witnessed him in, his rebellious nature was hardly even relevant. it wasn't important.

    being exactly where he had  ( presumably unbeknownst to remus )  left him, sirius released a quiet sigh of relief before dropping into the chair beside him.

                                                    ------&& what does he say?

    accompanied by his usual grin as he dropped the chocolate bars benevolently offered to him by his new allies upon his lap, naught but a mere  ' chin up '.

[wilclchildarchive-blog]

™ ™ ™ ™ x infinite lbr ( so i guess i missed it when you reblogged it bUT I COULDNT NOT SEND YOU THE THING DP your portrayal gives me feels, joy, pain and EVERYTHING in between. bless your blog and your sirius. 500% canon & i'm speaking in a non biased perspective ok. heart eyes forever )

send me “™” if you think I’m quality!!!

&& to you,  my beautiful chicken nugget, i’m just. i get emotional about ar’ nannie, because you can literally sense how much she loves her characters, && it completely shows in her writing.   && can i just rave about how wonderful you are as a person,  as a friend,   && how your portrayal of all of your characters hits me right where it hurts,  literally kills me,  but in the most wonderful of ways so... yeah. i love you so much uwuwu

[moreadmirable-blog]

(ㆁᴗㆁ✿) (uwu)

send a (ㆁᴗㆁ✿) & i’ll rate your blog.

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