fkqgjfqlgjkqfd pleeeeeease I wanna know more about "YOUNG ROYALS AU" <3
SO *cracking knuckles*
This AU was an idea that haunted me for about a week in August. I have about 2,5 chapters written + an outline for the whole fic (not an habit of mine) and I truly hope I get to work on it more!!
It's a Wolfstar fic, with Crown Prince Sirius (because Orion is the King of England) who gets transferred to Regulus' boarding school (Reg is pissed about it). It's a rich kid school with a few townies who got a scholarship (Remus (hehe), Lily and Marlene). (Everybody is gay and in the closet.)
This fic mixes light-hearted prose (Sirius is thirsting about any guy he meets, and well, writing a teenage Sirius will get silly at times) and heavy topics such as addiction, alcohol abuse, suicide, homophobia, family pressure (Walburga is her own warning in this fic, with a really complicated relationship with Sirius) and all that lovely stuff.
It's really hard to choose a snippet, so i chose three, sorry??
first a snippet from Sirius' first day at his new school, because I think it's a good example of his character's voice
He looked at the stage then, wondering what the hell this space was used for, pretty certain they didn’t welcome crown princes every bloody morning, when the Headmistress started her welcome speech. He just noticed the bloody children all clad in pristine white behind her. Sirius turned to his brother with wide eyes, and Regulus’ lips twitched upwards, so Sirius kicked his leg with his polished Oxford, to which he retaliated with an elbow to the ribs.
And then they bloody sang. Of course the children would sing. Sirius had to go through a right number of singing children in his lifetime. Which he despised with all his being. At first he thought they would sing some sort of school anthem they were sure to have here but oh no, wishful thinking here, Sirius. No, they sang his bloody song, because of course Sirius Orion Black III had had a bloody song composed for his birth as if him popping out of his mother’s womb was more extraordinary than every sod here.
Sirius slumped in his seat, before straightening back up when Narcissa tapped his thigh. The whole thing lasted a full torturous four minutes, their high-pitched voices echoing in the space, his name being chanted as if he were a damn Saint.
2. then just a line of dialogue from James
"You might be the Crown Prince,"James’ voice slithered and embedded itself down to Sirius’ marrow. He repressed a shiver. "But Regulus is King around here."
3. And finally some early Wolfstar
"My friend Lily is not really… supportive of the monarchy," Remus glanced at him. Sirius hummed. "Me neither, actually."
"That’s the only way it can be," Sirius answered automatically. Remus sighed.
"I—I don’t believe so," Remus answered, toying with the corner of his book which seemed to have been opened over and over again, the cover fraying at the edges.
Sirius blinked, he didn’t know what to say. He knew logically, that other countries lost their monarchy. Through rebels and heathens, his mother said, when he asked why there wasn’t any King in France.
We’re the image of our countries. The metronomes of civilisation and good society. Who we are, what we represent, it’s important, Sirius. You’d do well to remember that.
"So, do you hate me then?" Sirius asked instead.
Remus shook his head, a lingering smile finding place again.
"I don’t know you."
"You think you do, though. Because even before meeting me, you knew I was 'in the Maldives'."
"You’re weird," Remus smiled at him. It should be an insult, but it sounded fond in Remus’ mouth. "I think it would be hard to hate you."
"My mother would beg to differ."
"You don’t want to know what I think about the bloody Quee—"
apologies about the extra long post lmaoo i hope you like it, i'm very fond of these tossers and i miss them very much
The Bridget Jones Wolfstar AU that No One Asked For
Dear Diary,
Even writing those words makes me physically ill so I’d like to start this off by disclosing that getting a diary was not my idea.
You see, my best friend, James - excellent, wonderful best friend who has recently become a family man by choice, and has therefore become one of the most insufferable people on earth - gave me this diary and said it’s either this or he’s buying me therapy because one more rubbish one-week relationship of mine is going to kill him.
And I don’t need a fucking therapist, so here you are, and here I am. I feel better already.
(haha)
Dear Diary,
James might be onto something. Today I found myself smoking my third morning cigarette while drinking my coffee and muttering that the drive to work is going to be hell because of the rain.
I’ve become my father.
Of course, I asked James if he ever looks in the mirror and sees Monty staring back and if it makes him want to buy a motorbike and he replied, ‘Uh, I’m literally his son, we look alike. Are you okay?’
My thirty third birthday is coming up.
Please don’t let this be a mid-life crisis. I’m not in a relationship because I don’t want one, and haven’t had one in over ten years because the men in London either want to meet you in the park or meet your parents. It’s the last hour of the buffet and all that’s left is the salad. And I don’t need a relationship either. James and Lily are a match made in heaven since the first time he told her ugly friend he was ugly (rightfully so, the man is still hideous and a complete prick), and she told him to watch his fucking mouth. Made for each other.
But the last time I met a guy that made me laugh and was any sort of attractive and not a complete knob about being attractive, was over three years ago.
Ie, it’s not for me. End of story.
I bought a motorbike
Dear Diary,
I’m going to do away with the whole ‘dear diary’ thing, it makes me feel like a schoolgirl and if James ever finds you when we’re drunk he’s going to read out at least one embarrassing entry at me. They’re all embarrassing.
I went on a blind date today.
“Long black for… Sirish?”
What? Oh. That vague jumble of mush must have been his name. Sirius grabs the takeaway cup and makes for the door briskly. He has the Binkley case to catch up on and write a piece on by the end of the week and he’s still not clear who the man is. A football star perhaps? He’s still being sidelined into the sports area of the paper because he did football for a year. Nevermind that he has an interest in politics and would very much like to report on where the country will be in ten years if it keeps going-
J: You busy after work?
Sirius grins, flopping his jacket over one arm to type back to James Potter, best friend and inarguably lesser half of Lily Potter.
S: drinks?
J: I have a one year old
S: too early for him to start?
S: kidding. Don’t tell Lily. She’s already started making him take his helmet every time I take him for a day.
J: It’s not for drinks. Lily has a friend who’s just come to town. I thought maybe you could show him around.
S: Worst lie ever.
J: I haven’t had coffee yet.
J: It’s actually true though. He just came to town and doesn’t know anyone other than Lily, and Harry has a cold so we’re both staying home.
J: He’s quite attractive I’m told. Lily told me to say ‘tall Martin Freeman’, and that you’d know what it means
S: Potter, if I was so desperate that I would open to a blind date, I definitely wouldn’t start with any of Lily’s friends, they’re all college professors and about 50 years old.
J: He’s 37
S: He has elbow patches. Guaranteed. Bet he says ‘but the Torries are actually not as conservative as they’re made out to be.’
S: Bet he has a mahogany desk and wanks to Aristotle
J: Jesus christ
J: Photo sent
Sirius glances down uninterestedly and sees a photo of a man. But instead of the expected stuffy looking balding man with a sour face, as most of Lily’s fellow professors are to be fair, instead he’s looking at a tall, brown haired man with flecks of grey at the temples and smiling softly at the camera, and he’s well, he’s not not handsome. Tall Martin Freeman is actually quite right. Hello.
He brings the phone closer to examine the photo as he blindly barges into the office building with the large Get Up, Britain sign gaudy and bright above him.
The man is younger on second glance, although he is wearing a suit jacket with elbow patches (told you, Jamie), and standing a little awkwardly, like he’s not used to photos being taken of him, and it’s entirely likely that he’s more accustomed to being nose deep in a book ninety percent of the time.
He’s shagged worse.
S: I was right about the elbow patches
J: I really tried to find one without them too
J: But he sounds nice. Funny. Lily likes him, she talks about him all the time. They were prefects together in school and used to bunk off and smoke behind the bins
One the one hand: prefect. Disgusting. Hall monitors. Pigs-to-be, snooty, law-abiding to the most irritating degree (Lily being the exception, of course). On the other hand: smoking behind the bins is more his style. Speaking of, he’d love one right now-
J: I really think you’d like him. Even just friends. Moving cities is lonely and he sounds alright. He likes Manchester U?
S: Fine, I’m free after 6
S: Don’t yell at me if I shag him, work has been shit.
So that’s how Sirius finds himself, half past six, swearing up a storm and running with his tote bag over his head in the pouring rain, late for his blind date (or something).
He slams into the restaurant door, shaking himself off like a wet dog, his casual Friday jeans and black t-shirt soaking wet, his shoulder length, black hair is dripping around his face, hoping his laptop has survived, and shivering like a chihuahua at a children’s party.
“Uh, I’m here for uh-” he consults his phone again and reads the name to the maitre d, “Reh-mus?”
“It’s Remus, actually”, comes a soft voice from his left.
Sirius turns quickly and immediately drenches the man standing at his elbow in droplets of water from his hair and coat. Tall Martin Freeman indeed - he has one of those faces that’s even better in person, where the way he stoops his shoulders and holds himself makes him look soft and welcoming, and the warm lighting gives him that attractive, cozy professor look, rather than an uptight old man.
“Oh”, Sirius grins quickly, hoping his dazzling smile will make up for their flimsy introduction, “Right, Sirius. Are you still waiting for a table-?”
“I er, well, I was about to leave actually”, Remus says, glancing at the maitre d awkwardly, “You’re quite late.”
Sirius’ smile freezes. Well, then.
“Got caught up at work”, he replies stiffly, brushing his hair back and letting his eyes go cold, “If you’d prefer we don’t-”
“No, no, of course not”, Remus appears to snap back, as if remembering his manners and seeming oddly distracted, “Please, let’s sit. You look like you could use a drink.”
Sirius runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he follows Remus to the table and wonders if that was a slight about him looking like a drowned rat. He notices the man has worn an absolutely hideous brown jumper that wouldn’t be out of place in an aged care home, so he doesn’t really have the right to judge Sirius’ appearance.
“Wine?” The waiter offers politely. It’s a nice place - James said Lily had picked it because she thought Remus would like it. It is a little stuffy, honestly. Something his parents might have stopped by and deemed adequate, which is to say, the beer is fucking overpriced, Jesus-
“I’ll have the Stout again, please”, Remus answers briskly, nodding at Sirius to order his.
“Uh, yeah, Stout. Cheers”, Sirius adds, dumping his bag beneath the table and trying to surreptitiously dry his hair in the napkin. Remus looks away as if embarrassed by him. Swot.
“So, you know Lily through school?” Sirius starts, unable to keep the boredom completely out of his voice.
“Yes. I take it you know James through yours”, Remus answers, very politely but also sounding just as bored.
“Yeah, grew up together”, Sirius nods.
Remus doesn’t say anything to that, just hums and sips some water.
It’s fucking awkward. Normally, Sirius would give him an ultimatum - ‘look, do you want to liven it up a bit and turn this into a fun one-night thing? Because otherwise, I’m not feeling it and I’ve got work to do.’
But Lily knows this guy, they have mutual friends, and if this isn’t what makes blind dates the most excruciating, hellish thing on earth, worse than job interviews, worse than-
“I don’t really do blind dates”, Remus says suddenly, and then blinks as if he hadn’t meant to say anything at all.
“Right”, Sirius says, bewildered.
“I, er, the dating scene. Not really my thing”, he says quietly, still not looking Sirius in the eye, “But I just moved here from Wales and I don’t know anyone, so this doesn’t have to be… anything. Just-”
“Oh- oh yeah. Fine with me”, Sirius finds himself swallowing down a touch of regret, offended really, because he’s not used to someone not immediately being ready to come home with him. “I’m not really looking for anything and blind dates are, well - eugh, you know? Like, thanks, my friends think I can’t get laid on my own or something so they set me up with whoever they think isn’t a serial killer, like any gay dude will do-”
“Yes, well”, Remus says tightly, taking another sip, “I rather thought Lily knew me better than that.”
His tone is rather pointed and Sirius realises he’s let his mouth run. Well… to be fair, the guy is kind of a snob. What was Lily thinking anyway?
“Yeah”, he agrees through his teeth, crossing his arms and legs and sitting back in his chair to wait for his beer. Maybe he can make an excuse after one drink. He can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t have a sense of humour and if this bloke doesn’t want to be a one-night stand, then he’d much rather be home. Alone.
“Is there anything around here you’d recommend?” Remus tries, voice clipped and still sounding slightly offended, “Restaurants? More importantly, ones you don’t recommend?”
“There’s a place that does turkey curry. It’s awful.”
“What? What curry?” The tightness in Remus’ face slips momentarily and he looks genuinely bewildered. He’s actually not a bad looker when he’s not frowning.
“Turkey. It’s as bad as it sounds. Actually it’s worse, like eating a lamb burrito, it’s just not right. Shittest fucking curry and it’s as bad going in as it is bad going ou-”
“Two Stouts.”
The waiter delivers their beers and they fade off into silence as they drink.
Remus sips delicately, in a way that’s completely inappropriate for a beer, and says awkwardly, “Yes well, thank you for the tip. I’ll rest easy never knowing what turkey curry tastes like.”
“Yeah, I mean, if you can avoid it then I guess this date wasn’t a waste after all.”
Remus blinks, expression dropping.
Oh. Oh fuck. Double fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that.
“I’ve got to go to the bathroom”, Remus says abruptly and stands. He stalks away quickly and leaves Sirius gnawing at his lip and furious at both himself and this infuriating man who seems to loathe him, minutes after meeting him and who Lily apparently thinks is nice.
He’s got other shit to be getting on with, he decides. And this bloke probably shags like a limp fish anyway, an Oxford type that thinks poetry is foreplay and once a month sex is scandalously frequent.
He drains his beer and half of Remus’ for good measure, and heads to the bathroom so he can catch Remus on his way out, only to hear his own name hissed furiously. He sees Remus standing out the front of the restaurant, shoulders raised against the cold and holding the phone to his ear. He steps closer and half opens the door to tell him he’s going to head off when he hears the conversation.
“... how did you think someone like Sirius would be good for me? After the hell I’ve had in the last year? Going on a date with someone like him? He showed up thirty minutes late, dressed like he’s going to a bar playing exclusively Metallica, and insulted me immediately. I told you, I don’t mind being alone for a while, especially after the divorce. I certainly don’t want to be shown around London by a rude, arrogant berk who dresses like a teenager and doesn’t seem to have a filter between his brain and his mouth. He probably thinks the bar scene is-oh”
Remus catches sight of him out of the corner of his eye and he spins. They stare at each other for a few excruciation moments, Remus still holding the phone to his ear.
Sirius breaks the tension with a forced laugh, “Right. I’m definitely going home.”
“Wait, shit, I’ll call you back”, Remus mutters into the phone and hangs up, stepping forward but Sirius pushes past him, temper steadily rising into a roaring bonfire within his chest.
“Sirius, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“You’re absolutely right, I wouldn’t know the first thing about showing a bloke like you around London”, he turns and says loudly so it carries over the sounds of the cars driving by on the busy street, “You’d be more comfortable in a fucking graveyard, honestly. There’s one ten minutes that way-” he turns his back and points over to the left, calling back over his shoulder, “You’ll find someone much more your speed there, Remus.”
Blind date disastrous as expected.
Remus fucking Lupin, a professor extraordinaire who wouldn’t be able to find his funny bone if it conked him on the fucking head, is not an exception to the blind date rule, even though he’s easy on the eyes at first glance. At second glance, he is a miserable, dried up academic whose own self-importance has completely consumed him despite dressing like his grandfather for Halloween.
If this is what my friends think of me, I need to sort my fucking shit out.
I should have asked him to shag before he opened his stupid fucking mouth.
[Sirius is listening to Fleetwood Mac and Remus came back from the library]
Remus sat down on the couch, crossing his legs behind Sirius. The boy turned to look at him and, with a triumphant smile, presented him the round chocolate he has been looking for. Remus took it and Sirius winked at him, turning back and missing the blush that crept at Remus’ neck and his shy smile. They didn’t speak for a while, listening to Stevie singing about Lindsey and witches.
"You know Stevie Nicks is a squib ?"
"Really ?" Sirius turned again with a surprised look, Remus nodded.
"Yeah, mam told me both her parents were wizards but she could never do magic. I think she read it in a magazine somewhere. "
"Merlin, it actually makes sense ! Muggles are always all about her being a witch but I wasn’t sure". Sirius positioned himself on his side to look at Remus without hurting his neck, he drew his knees close to his chest and put his chin on it, angling his head toward the boy on the couch. "I had a feeling she kinda knew about magic tho, you know, with the way she writes and dresses"
"Mhm, she kinda have the same style as Pandora". Sirius hummed at that and closed his eyes, listening to the music that filled the room.
Snippet from my Wolfstar WIP Sunburnt Summers
Read it here on AO3
****
“Lupin,” Marlene called out, propping her skateboard up by the door, “you ready to practice?”
Remus looked up from where he and Sirius were playing around with a little composition they’d come up with together.
“Yeah,” he called back, shuffling the sheets of paper scattered around the two of them and getting up, his legs and arse feeling numb from sitting still for so long. He stretched, leaning to the side to pop his back and neck, following it up by cracking all his knuckles. Sirius shivered at the noise.
“Yuck,” he said, shaking his head slightly and Remus grinned devilishly at him.
“Oh yeah?” he said, popping his thumb out at an odd angle and wiggling it in front of Sirius’ face.
“Oh god!” Sirius cried out, averting his eyes, “stop Moony! I’m gonna be sick!”
“Is he doing the thumb thing?” Lily called out and Sirius nodded at her, not looking back at Remus.
“Ugh,” the girl called back, shaking her head in disgust. Lily hated the thumb thing.
“Put your thumb away Lupin,” Mary called haughtily as she moved over to the microphone.
“Thumb?” Marlene asked, rounding on Remus and looking curiously at his popped-out digit. “Nice,” she nodded appreciatively, “but how about this-” she brought her arms behind her back and clasped them together, bringing her hands up over her head, her shoulders rolling unnaturally.
“No!” squealed Lily, turning away and burying her face in the couch.
“Sick!” James called out in awe and Remus laughed at him. Marlene proceeded to do some kind of bizarre robot dance, moving her arms in unnatural ways and swinging them at the elbows. Sirius and Lily were practically screaming, averting their eyes. Remus and James were delighted, James trying to get Marlene to teach him how to do it before Lily intervened, claiming he was about to land himself in the hospital. Mary and Peter didn’t seem bothered by the display either way, Mary letting them know she’d seen enough of Marlene’s particular parlour trick for a lifetime.
“Didn’t know you were so squeamish Pads,” Remus teased, popping his thumb out again at the boy, who immediately convulsed and turned his head.
“Didn’t know you were so ticklish Moons,” Sirius said threateningly, attempting to make significant eye contact without looking at Remus’ thumb. Remus immediately popped it back into place.
“Who’s ticklish?” Mary asked excitedly, looking up at them. Remus shot Sirius a look of desperate contrition- please Pads.
“Moony!” Sirius announced to the grinning crowd.
“Oh really?” James replied, stalking forward like some kind of jungle cat, a leering grin on his face.
“No!” Remus cried out, turning to run. But it was too late. James had leapt at Remus while Sirius had swept his legs and soon the weight of all six of his evil, terrible, no-good friends was on top of him and every available inch of skin was being tickled. Sirius, who knew better than anyone, had gone straight for his ribs and Remus gasped helplessly, screaming with unwanted laughter.
“Mercy!” he cried, struggling with all his might, “Mercy!”
James took pity on him first, letting up and gallantly helping the girls and Pete to their feet. Remus stared at him hatefully from the floor. Sirius just rolled over and laid down next to Remus on the rug, hair splayed out over his shoulder, laughing happily at his distress.
“Fucking hate you Pads,” he muttered darkly. Sirius chuckled.
“Love you too Moons,” he retorted easily, just low enough so that only Remus heard it. He didn’t have time to respond before Sirius was bounding up, joining the others in a heap on the couch, throwing elbows to make himself comfortable and ultimately lying across James and Pete, his feet in Lily’s lap. The three shared looks of exasperated resignation, though none of them seemed to really mind.
“Where’s the band?!” Sirius called loudly, cupping his hands to his mouth.
“Yeah, we bought tickets to this!” James tacked on, lovingly ruffling the hair of the boy’s head in his lap.
Remus got up haltingly, running a hand through his hair and over his face. What does that mean? No time to dwell- Marlene was passing him the electric guitar and walking over to sit at the drum kit. He looked to Mary distractedly as she told him what to play and nodded absently, mind still whirring. He looked down at his hands, blinking repeatedly and dearly hoping he’d remember how to play guitar in the four seconds it took Marlene to count them in.
“Harry!” Sirius chided, though it quickly turned into a laugh as the toddler brought a now icing covered finger to his mouth. “Did it turn out good at least?” He asked.
“Mmmm!” Harry nodded. “More cake!” And he went to dip his hand back in the bowl but this time Sirius was fast enough to catch him.
“Uh uh cheeky one!” He picked Harry up under his arms to place him back on the floor once more. “Here, you can have the spoon.” He offered.
Harry giggled with joy and began to lick icing off the spoon, chocolate smearing across his little face quickly. Sirius chuckled and looked at his completed creation. He wasn’t much of a baker, even worse the muggle way. Remus had insisted that he could tell the difference, and the muggle way always reminded him of his mother. Who was Sirius to dishonor Hope like that?
“What should we draw on top for Moony?” Sirius asked Harry. He paused at the mess he was making to tilt his head to the side and consider.
“Hmm frog!” He exclaimed in excitement.
“A frog? Are you sure?” Sirius asked nervously.
“Uh huh. G’een frog Moony cake!” Harry demanded.
“Alright, here goes.” He tapped his wand at the icing turning it bright green. A little magic can’t hurt, Remus certainly wouldn’t be able to tell. Setting to work on drawing possibly the worst frog design in known history. “What do you think, Haz?” Sirius lifted the now-chocolate-covered toddler to the counter again. Harry nodded his approval. “Here goes then.” With Harry in one hand and the cake balancing in the other, Sirius began a chorus of Happy Birthday.
Remus beamed from his spot in the living room as the two brought the cake over to him.
“Happy birthday, love. Now blow out the candles quick before I drop one of these.” Sirius demanded. Remus chuckled and did just that, grabbing the tray as he blew out the candles and setting it down on the coffee table. He straightened back up and first planted a kiss to Harry’s chocolate covered forehead; he tried not to ask how icing had gotten on his eyebrows. There was a certain magic that toddlers possessed that had absolutely nothing to do with magical ability. Then he pulled Sirius close by his waist and placed a quick kiss to his lips. Quick only because Harry was quickly barreling towards the cake, having wriggled his way out of Sirius’ arms.
“Come here you!” Sirius pulled the boy back again and threw him, lightly, onto the sofa behind them and away from the cake. “Do you like it Moony? I did it all the muggle way too.”
“Yes, I can tell.” Remus laughed, looking over at the lopsided chocolate heap.
“Me help Moony cake!” Harry exclaimed. “Look frog!”
“It’s beautiful, Harry, you did a great job. It’s a nice err, frog?” He raised an eyebrow at Sirius.
“Yes it’s a frog!” He tried to defend himself but really between the too large legs and the too long head, it looked like something else entirely. “Let’s all go back to talking about what a good job we did!”
The two adults dissolved into laughter as Remus waved his wand and the cake sliced into several pieces.
“Hey! You cheated, you used magic on the icing.”
“I’m offended, Moons, I did no such thing!”
“Pa’foo use magic.” Harry confirmed solemnly, mouthful of cake.
“Whatever will I do with you?” Remus asked. Sirius just smirked and raised an eyebrow as if to suggest exactly what Remus could do wordlessly. They both laughed again and returned to their cake. It was really a lovely birthday after all.
Sirius had been listening intently, standing at their bedside behind Tonks, so he could look at Remus while he was talking. He imagined a young Remus, tiny and scarless, wide eyes open to the world and a tenderness to love every little aspect of it, with his need to nest wherever he stayed for more than two nights.
He remembered the quilted blanket he’d produced from his trunk on their first night at Hogwarts, a tattered old thing that Remus had never parted with, and that now rested, folded, at the foot of Teddy’s cot.
i'm going to prepare for bed now! good time of day xx
thanks for tagging me @itsjamespotter! this was so fun!
ghost
unremarkable days, chapter 18, wolfstar
James was nervous. He knew that he and Sirius had supposedly squashed their issues earlier in the day, but he didn’t entirely trust it. He knew Sirius tended to stew on issues, especially issues of his privacy. Hell, it had led to the blowout between Sirius and Remus earlier in the year. Watching Sirius walk through the door, he felt all of the air leave his lungs. His best friend was starting to look like a ghost of himself. His cheeks had receded, his eyes were sunken into his face, and his eyes were rimmed as though he had been crying for hours.
bit/bite
doses and mimosas, unpublished, wolfstar
He needs to go. Yet he’s rooted to this spot. That is, until the violent little dots win out, and he’s dropping his ceramic mug with a sickening crunch and running off to the bathroom. He can hear James excusing it with he’s hungover, don’t worry about him, it’s fine and he’s locking himself inside the small room and retching. It’s violent and painful and he can feel his heart beating out of his chest. All he wants is some peace so that he can’t feel all of the pain and disgust anymore. His mouth tastes like the burn and drip of bitter coke, and he’s rinsing his mouth out with water in order to shirk off some of the pain and embarrassment of behaving in this manner. His head is pressed to the tile of the wall by the time he hears the soft knock on the door to the restroom. He bit back a guttural scream, in hopes of being able to maintain some level of normalcy.
groan
evergreen, unpublished, dorlene
“Not anymore,” she groaned in response, “Cas people like me aren’t the kind of people that they protect. I’m not like you, I’m not safe there.” She didn’t like having this conversation, she didn’t like the stares that people were throwing her way, as she, the big scary butch grumbled at the small, helpless damsel sitting across from her. “I’d rather get the shit beaten out of me than get hit with the cruciatus curse. Maybe that’s just me,” She rolled her eyes, carding a hand through her short blonde hair.
long
unnamed ballet au, wolfstar
Ballet is long, languid lines, and fluid motions. It’s an embodiment of grace, beauty, and human perfection. Sirius was raised for it, and with one look at him, it was easy to tell why. His limbs seemed to extend for miles, with all the grace of a deer, all the agility of a tiger, and all the commanding presence of a wolf. Orion and Walburga treated him no better than they would have an animal, but it made him strong. It made him capable. At least, that was what Sirius told himself when they would show up, tickets in hand to watch him perform. Then they would list off all of their notes for the evening. The pair attended one show at the beginning of the term, and one at the end. They expected perfection and improvement, which seemed, in Sirius’s opinion, to cancel out. They credited themselves with the success of their children, a Prix de Lausanne hopeful, and the star of his year, with the emotional issues to boot? Practically unheard of. Unless you were from the Ancient and Most Nobel House of Black, and then it was expected.
tagging: @lesbianmckinnonn and also anyone else who wants to with: bold, exhausted/exhaustion, scream, air
