Sirius: *gazing With Adoration At Remus*

Remus: "Why are you naked and covered in oil?"

Sirius: "You know how you always say I never glisten?"

Remus: "Listen. You never listen."

Sirius: "Oh."

Suddenly someone's hands covered my eyes and pulled my head back. I tried to pull their hands away but it wouldn't work so I covered their hands with mine. Their fingers were long and thin, and their hands were slightly cold.

"Who is it?" I asked.

Not too long after, I felt a feather light kiss on my forehead followed by a quiet whisper in my ear. "Guess who?"

A smile spread across my face as I recognised his voice. I rose up a little and gave him a quick kiss, smiling like an idiot when his hands were removed from my face.

"Hi." I whispered.

"Hi." He responded.

friendly reminder that snape telling the school about remus’ condition is the equivalent of outing someone to the public, losing remus the ability to ever get a good job again

and for what? because he was sad that he didn’t get an award for catching sirius?

Writing Tip June 4th

A list of body language phrases.

I’ve included a very comprehensive list, organized by the type of body movement, hand and arm movements, facial expressions etc. In some cases, a phrase fits more than one heading, so it may appear twice. Possible emotions are given after each BL phrase unless the emotion is indicated within the phrase. (They are underlined for emphasis, not due to a hyperlink.)

Note: I’ve included a few body postures and body conditions as they are non-verbal testimony to the character’s physical condition.

Have fun and generate your own ideas.:-)

Eyes, Brows and Forehead

arched a sly brow:  sly, haughty

blinked owlishly:  just waking, focusing, needs glasses

brows bumped together in a scowl:  worried, disapproving, irritated

brows knitted in a frown: worried, disapproval, thoughtful

bug-eyed:  surprised, fear, horror

cocky wink and confident smile:  over confidence, arrogant, good humor, sexy humor

eyes burned with hatred: besides hatred this might suggest maniacal feelings

eyes flashed: fury, defiance, lust, promise, seduction

eyes rolled skyward: disbelief, distrust, humor

forehead puckered:  thoughtful, worried, irritation

frustration crinkled her eyes

gaze dipped to her décolletage: sexual interest, attraction, lust

gimlet-eyed/narrowed eyes: irritation, thoughtful, mean, angry

gleam of deviltry:  humor, conniving, cunning

kept eye contact but her gaze became glazed: pretending interest where there is none/bordom

narrowed to crinkled slits:  angry, distrust

nystagmic eyes missed nothing (constantly shifting eyes):  Shifty

pupils dilated:  interested, attraction to opposite sex, fear

raked her with freezing contempt

slammed his eyes shut:  stunned, furious, pain

squinted in a furtive manner:  fearful, sneaky

stared with cow eyes:  surprised, disbelief, hopeful, lovestruck

subtle wink:  sexy, humor/sharing a joke, sarcasm

unrelenting stare: distrust, demanding, high interest, unyielding

Place To Place, Stationary Or Posture

ambled away:  relaxed, lazy

barged ahead:  rude, hurried

battled his way through the melee:  desperate, anger, alarm

cruised into the diner:  easy-going, feeling dapper, confident

dawdled alongside the road:  lazy, deliberate delay for motives, unhurried, relaxed

dragged his blanket in the dirt:   sadness/depressed, weary

edged closer to him:  sneaky, seeking comfort, seeking protection, seeking an audience

he stood straighter and straightened his tie:  sudden interest, sexual attraction

held his crotch and danced a frantic jig: demonstrates physical condition – he has to pee

hips rolled and undulated:  sexy walk, exaggerating for sex appeal

hovered over them with malice/like a threatening storm: here it’s malice, but one may hover for many reasons.

hunched over to look shorter:  appear inconspicuous, ashamed of actions, ashamed of height

leaped into action feet hammering the marbled floor:  eager, fear, joyous

long-legged strides:  hurried, impatient

lumbered across:  heavy steps of a big man in a hurry

minced her way up to him: timid, sneaky, insecure, dainty or pretense at dainty

paced/prowled the halls:  worried, worried impatience, impatient, diligently seeking pivoted on his heel and took off:  mistaken and changes direction, following orders, hurried, abrupt change of mind, angry retreat

plodded down the road:  unhurried, burdened, reluctant

practiced sensual stroll:  sexy, showing off

rammed her bare foot into her jeans: angry, rushed

rocked back and forth on his heels: thoughtful, impatiently waiting

sagged against the wall:  exhausted, disappointment

sallied forth:  confident, determined

sashayed her cute little fanny:  confident, determined, angered and determined

shrank into the angry crowd:  fear, insecure, seeking to elude

sketched a brief bow and assumed a regal pose: confident, mocking, snooty, arrogant skidded to an abrupt halt: change of heart, fear, surprise, shock

skulked on the edges of the crowd: sneaky, ashamed, timid

slithered through the door:  sneaky, evil, bad intentions

stormed toward her, pulling up short when: anger with a sudden surprise

swaggered into the class room:  over confident, proud, arrogant, conceited

tall erect posture:  confidence, military bearing

toe tapped a staccato rhythm:  impatience, irritation

tottered/staggered unsteadily then keeled over:  drunk, drugged, aged, ill

waltzed across the floor:  happy, blissful, exuberant, conceited, arrogant

Head Movement

cocked his head:  curiosity, smart-alecky, wondering, thoughtful

cocked his head left and rolled his eyes to right corner of the ceiling:  introspection

droop of his head: depressed, downcast, hiding true feelings

nodded vigorously: eager

tilted her head to one side while listening:  extreme interest, possibly sexual interest

Mouth And Jaw

a lackluster smile:  feigning cheerfulness

cigarette hung immobile in mouth: shock, lazy, uncaring, relaxed casualness

clinched his jaw at the sight:  angered, worried, surprised

curled her lips with icy contempt

expelled her breath in a whose:  relief, disappointment

gagged at the smell: disgust, distaste

gapped mouth stare:  surprised, shock, disbelief

gritted his teeth:  anger, irritation, holding back opinion

inhaled a sharp breath:  surprise, shock, fear, horror

licked her lips:  nervous, sexual attraction

lips primed: affronted, upset, insulted

lips pursed for a juicy kiss

lips pursed like she’d been chewing a lemon rind: dislike, angry, irritated, sarcasm

lips screwed into: irritation, anger, grimace, scorn

lips set in a grim line: sorrow, worried, fear of the worst

pursed her lips:  perturbed, waiting for a kiss

scarfed down the last biscuit:  physical hunger, greed

slack-mouthed:  total shock, disbelief

slow and sexy smile:  attraction, seductive, coy

smacked his lips: anticipation

smile congealed then melted into horror

smile dangled on the corner of his lips: cocky, sexy

smirked and tossed her hair over her shoulder:  conceit, sarcasm, over confident

sneered and flicked lint off his suit: sarcasm, conceit

spewed water and spit: shock

stuck out her tongue: humor, sarcasm, teasing, childish

toothy smile:  eagerness, hopeful

wary smile surfaced on her lips

Nose

nose wrinkled in distaste/at the aroma

nostrils flared:  anger, sexual attraction

nose in the air:  snooty, haughty

Face in General

crimson with fury

handed it over shame-faced

jutted his chin: confident, anger, forceful

managed a deadpan expression:  expressionless

muscles in her face tightened:  unsmiling, concealing emotions, anger, worried

rested his chin in his palm and looked thoughtful

rubbed a hand over his dark stubble:  thoughtful, ashamed of his appearance

screwed up her face:  anger, smiling, ready to cry, could almost be any emotion

sneered and flicked lint off his suit: conceit, derision, scorn

Arm and Hand

a vicious yank

arm curled around her waist, tugging her next to him:  possessive, pride, protective

bit her lip and glanced away:  shy, ashamed, insecure

brandished his fist:  anger, threatening, ready to fight, confident, show of pride

clamped his fingers into tender flesh:  anger, protective, wants to inflict pain

clenched his dirty little fists: stubborn, angry

clapped her hands on her hips, arms crooked like sugar bowel handles:  anger, demanding, disbelief

constantly twirled her hair and tucked it behind her ear:  attracted to the opposite sex, shy crossed his arms over his chest: waiting, impatient, putting a barrier

crushed the paper in his fist:  anger, surrender, discard

dived into the food: hunger, eager, greedy

doffed his hat:  polite gesture, mocking, teasing

doodled on the phone pad and tapped the air with her foot:  bored, inattention, introspection

drummed her fingers on the desk:  impatient, frustrated, bored

fanned her heated face with her hands: physically hot, embarrassed, indicating attraction

fiddled with his keys: nervous, bored

firm, palm to palm hand shake:  confident, honest

flipped him the bird: sarcastic discard

forked his fingers through his hair for the third time:  disquiet/consternation, worry, thoughtful

handed it over shame-faced:  guilt, shame

held his crotch and danced a frantic jig:  physical need to relieve himself

limp hand shake:  lack of confidence, lack of enthusiasm

propped his elbow on his knee: relaxed, thoughtful

punched her pillow:  restless, can’t sleep, angry

rested his chin in his palm:  thoughful, worried

scratched his hairy belly and yawned:  indolent, bored, lazy, relaxed, just waking

shoulders lifted in a shrug:  doubtful, careless discard

slapped his face in front of God and country:  enraged, affronted/insulted

snapped a sharp salute:  respect, sarcastic gesture meaning the opposite of respect

snapped his fingers, expecting service:  arrogant, lack of respect, self-centered

sneered and flicked lint off his suit

spread her arms wide: welcoming,  joy, love

stabbed at the food: anger, hunger, determined

stood straighter and smoothed his tie:  sudden interest, possible sexual interest

stuffed his hands in his pockets: self-conscious, throwing up a barrier

sweaty handshake:  nervous, fearful

touched his arm several times while explaining:  sign of attraction, flattery, possessive

wide sweep of his arms:  welcoming, all inclusive gesture, horror

Sitting or Rising

collapsed in a stupor:  exhausted, drunk, drugged, disbelief

enthroned himself at the desk:  conceit, pronouncing or taking ownership

exploded out of the chair:  shock, eager, anger, supreme joy

roosted on the porch rail like a cock on a hen house roof:  claiming ownership, conceit, content

sat, squaring an ankle over one knee:  relaxed and open

slouched/wilted in a chair and paid languid attention to:  drowsy, lazy, depressed, disinterest, sad, totally relaxed, disrespectful

squirmed in his chair: ill at ease, nervous, needs the bathroom

Recline

flung himself into the bed: sad, depressed, exhausted, happy

prostrated himself: surrender, desperate, miserable, powerless, obsequious, fawning, flattering

punched her pillow:  can’t sleep, anger, frustrated

threw himself on the floor kicking and screaming: tantrum

Entire body and General

body stiffened at the remark:  offended, anger, alerted

body swayed to music:  dreamy, fond memories, enjoys the music

bounced in the car seat, pointing:  excitement, fear, eager

cowered behind his brother:  fear, shyness, coward, desperate

curled into a ball:  sorrow, fear, sleepy, defensive

heart galloping:  anxiety, joy, eager

held his crotch and danced a frantic jig

humped over his cane, each step shaking and careful: pain, aged

inhaled a deep breath and blew out slowly: buying time to find words/thoughtful, reconciled

quick and jerky like rusty cogs on a wheel:  unsure of actions, self-conscious, tense, edgy

rocked back and forth on his heels:  impatient, cocky, gleeful

manhandled the woman into a corner:  bully, anger

slumped shoulders: defeat, depressed, sad, surrender

stiff-backed:  priggish, haughty, affronted

stood straighter and straightened his tie:  sexual interest, wants to make an impression

stooped and bent: aged, arthritic, in pain

stretched extravagantly and yawned:  tired, bored, unconcerned

sweating uncontrollably: nervous, fear, guilt

tall erect posture:  confidence, military bearing

was panting now at:  afraid, exhausted, out of breath, sexual excitement

-Sharla Rae

Desi kids don't do drugs, they take a spoonful of horlicks and shove it in their mouths

THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING I'VE EVER READ!

Stars

The first time Sirius Black laid eyes on Remus Lupin, he was curious.

With his shabby robe, that frayed at the hem, and ended halfway down his calf, and the amber hair that seemed to either shine golden or grey in the candlelight, Remus Lupin walked with his head bowed and his eyes dragging along the floor. He looked like he would have the earth devour him, if only it opened wide.

Sirius couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone like that, and his eyes had remained snagged on the boy, who was fading away as he sat on the stool. The hat was placed on his head and began murmuring. Sirius wouldn’t admit it now, but he crossed his fingers underneath the table.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Blush staining his cheeks, he stumbled down the few steps and took a seat at the roaring table. Sirius leaned backwards, craning his neck as far back as he could to see him. Through all the nervousness, through the threads of his golden hair falling over his face, there was a slight smile.

And Sirius felt his curiosity increase tenfold.

The first time Sirius Black spoke to Remus Lupin, he was nervous.

It wasn’t that Sirius Orion Black the Third did not get nervous- that wasn’t it, at all-  it was just that he had been born into a family of wealth and the cloak of privilege was snugly swathed over him. If not for any other reason, it was simply because Sirius Orion Black the Third had never had any reason to be nervous.

And yet, on their first night at Hogwarts, he felt a buzzing, quivering feeling deep inside of him as he approached the quiet boy from earlier on. The boy was sitting in a corner of the electrified Common Room, leaning into the shadows as though he belonged to them, and adamantly avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. Even as Sirius sat beside him, the boy kept his eyes tracing the swirls on the carpet below his feet. Sirius wanted to say something but when he opened his mouth, his tongue felt heavy and twisted, so he closed it again. His dark eyes flicked to the boy, and he noticed the thin scar, reaching up into his hair and kissing the corner of his mouth.

The boy must have felt his gaze for he looked up and they stared at one another, into one another, silence palpable between them before Sirius said quietly, almost breathlessly, “I have scars too.”

And the boy smiled again, but this was a sad smile; one that pulled his lips down more than up, and he said, “My name’s Remus.”

“I’m Sirius,” he smiled, eyes lighting up.

Remus’ eyebrows pulled into a frown. “Like the star?”

And Sirius felt himself frown too, but not in puzzlement, in wonder at the scarred boy before him.

The first time Sirius Black was touched by Remus Lupin, he flinched.

They were running. Faster than their legs could feasibly carry them, their laughs being the only remnant of their brilliance. They could hear Filch screaming curse words after them and the clang of the disarray they had caused followed them around each corner and down each corridor, until the quiet absconded them and their hearts beat so hard they feared they would break out of their fleshy prison.

They gasped for breath, still laughing shakily, disbelieving and euphoric. Remus’s eyebrows were raised and a grin lit up his face. He moved towards Sirius, slinging an arm around his shoulders and the latter flinched.

Remus’ arm dropped in sync with his grin.

Sirius felt his eyes close and the breathless euphoria was replaced in his blood by a heavy dread. For when his best friend had touched him, he felt not Remus Lupin, but his mother.

It didn’t take a genius to notice the change in his demeanour, nor the embarrassment that followed soon after. Remus stared, feeling realisation dawn upon him as Sirius clenched his eyes shut. He reached out to touch him again, to apologise, to comfort his friend but stopped short, his hand inches away.

He didn’t know what to do. Remus finally saw the scars.

And Sirius opened his eyes and offered him a trembling smile, seeing the outstretched hand. He held his breath and leaned into it.

Remus’ hand was warm through his clothes.

The first time Sirius Black found out about Remus Lupin, he didn’t quite believe it.

James told both him and Pete and although he could see the jigsaw pieces dropping into place, the doubt was very profound in his mind. He wasn’t sure whether he did not believe it, or did not want to believe it.

It was only when he asked Remus about it, watched as the life drained from his scarred face and trickled through the breath that left his lips, did Sirius realise it was true.

And he didn’t quite know what to say or do. He merely stood and stared as James and Peter tried to convince him that it didn’t matter- this furry little problem did not define him, they wouldn’t let it. He saw the way that Remus flickered before them, fading away. He saw how he became that same scarred little boy on their first night at Hogwarts, alone and frightened of the world.

“Are you sure?” Remus said shakily. He could not even look at them, at Sirius. “Are you sure you want me to stay? I wouldn’t mind- I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you-“

He choked, the words jamming in his throat. There was a resignation to his voice, like he already knew the verdict, like he was waiting for it.

“If you wanted me kicked out of Hogwarts-“

“Kicked out?” Peter asked, his voice high pitch from incredulity. “Why would we do that?”

“Because- Because I’m a monster…”

“You’re being dramatic,” James said good-humouredly. “You fold your socks, Remus. Forgive me if I’m not trembling at the sight of you!”

“So you’re not- you’re not afraid of me?” Remus asked carefully, looking at them all with a pained yet unreadable expression on his face, as if he was gauging their seriousness. As if his life depended on it. “You don’t… but…but, I mean… werewolves, they’re not exactly… popular… or safe. For all you know, I could be dangerous!”

Sirius tried to grin. “Really, Lupin, what part of ‘you fold your socks’ isn’t getting through?”

Remus finally looked at him and he allowed himself to smile, and he hadn’t noticed but tears were slowly but surely falling down his cheeks. He took one step towards them before collapsing on the floor.

“Remus!” James shouted, jumping up to go and help his friend. The other two copied his movement. Putting one hand under his friend’s arm to try and lift him, with Sirius doing the same, he said, “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I- I just,” Remus faltered. Then he laughed. Loudly. Peter looked shocked, glancing fearfully at Sirius, who looked just as disconcerted. “I just feel so lucky to have you all as my friends.”

Then, the young werewolf started crying, on the floor of their dormitory, feeling something flutter and perch in his stomach. Belonging. It had to be.

And Sirius wrapped his arms around him, holding him close and tight in hopes that the broken pieces would stay together, and vowing that he would never let Remus Lupin, human or werewolf, fall apart again.

The first time Sirius Black realised he loved Remus Lupin, he couldn’t breathe.

The sun was sweet, sifting down from the sky and caressing their youthful bodies. The four of them laid on the bank of the Black Lake. James played with the snitch, letting it go then catching it before it could evade his clutch. Peter, sitting upright, was trying to do his homework, but his eyes kept straying to watch the golden bird flutter and speed away. Sirius was stretched out, eyes closed, feeing the warmth of summer ’75 wash over him. Remus was sat beside him, hugging his knees. He looked up at him through hooded eyes.

“You’re staring at me,” Remus said, and a small smirk curled at his lips. It was a regular sight now, that small, unassuming tilt of his mouth that hinted at the mischief hidden inside of him. He was older, no longer the scarred little boy from their first night at Hogwarts, but a young man with golden hair that fell past his ears and a more artistic face, with amber eyes and long eyelashes and a more profound dusting of freckles across his nose. His eyes strayed to him, looking sideways on. Sirius felt himself blush but pretended it was just the heat of the sun.

“See something you like?” Remus asked lightly, in his deep voice, grin wide on his face. Sirius didn’t reply.

Remus’ grin faltered and his eyebrows pulled together. He looked down at his friend, and Sirius shoved his hand up, pushing his face back. A string of indistinguishable noises mashed against the palm of his hand, as well as wet lips and teeth as Remus was caught off-guard. He wrenched his head away, looking at Sirius incredulously.

“No, I see a big fucking nerd,” Sirius replied.

Remus pretended to be offended, holding a hand to his heart but the laugh stole across his face before he could stop it and he ducked his head. Sirius watched him and swallowed.

“I’m a big nerd that beats you in every test we’ve had this term,” Remus said slyly, shooting him a glance. “Scratch that. All the tests we’ve had since first year.”

Sirius didn’t even give him chance to grin and launched himself at Remus, who was forced backwards. They rolled down the banking, causing Peter to squeak and twist out of the way. The two rolled, limbs tangled, wrestling harmlessly, laughing and growling and panting, until they came to a stop on the water’s edge. Sirius ended up on top, arms out to support his weight, breathing heavily. His dark hair was long and fell down past his face, tickling Remus, who was staring up at him in amused disbelief.

The laugh was high and honey-like, bursting from Remus’ lips before he could bite it back and he screwed his eyes closed. Sirius laughed too, breathlessly, and dropped his head to rest in the curvature of his friend’s shoulder. When they both felt spent, their ephemeral youth trickling out through their lips, Sirius lifted his head.

And he stared at Remus, whose eyes remained closed, a ghost of a smile playing his face. The freckles that painted his skin were like stars, and Sirius traced the constellations imprinted there, twirling around meteors and comets. He couldn’t breathe because there was something deep inside of him, like a butterfly fluttering its wings. And Sirius knew what it was immediately. He counted Remus’ freckles in hope it would go away.

The first time Sirius Black fell asleep in Remus Lupin’s arms, he felt invincible.

"Sirius.”

He woke up, the voice wrenching him from the clutches of the nightmare, eyes latching onto the first thing they saw, which happened to be Remus’s soft and freckled face. He looked paler than usual, the moonlight seeping through the curtains to find him.

Sirius closed his eyes, and his entire body throbbed, heaved from the fear it had been enraptured in. He must have been screaming. His throat felt torn and painful. His blanket was somewhere at the bottom of his bed- he must have been kicking out as well, and his skin was sticky from sweat.

Sirius opened his eyes again, unwillingly meeting Remus’ gaze. Concern leaked from him, from the frown marring his face to the sadness in his pretty eyes. He didn’t want him to worry for him, and he tried to smile but it was meek and shaky.

Remus sat him upright, climbing into bed behind him, legs stretched out and pulled Sirius to lie in the middle, head on his chest. Slowly, Sirius relaxed into him. Remus threaded his fingers through his hair, soothing him in the only way he knew how. He murmured, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe here. They’re not coming for you, not ever. You’re safe here.”

And Sirius fell asleep, unafraid of the shapes in the darkness that resembled his father, because there was nothing tying him there. Nothing whatsoever because he realised that home wasn’t a place, it was a person. And it was the person you felt safest with, the person whose heartbeat you fell asleep to. And Remus Lupin’s heartbeat was the steadiest one of all.

The first time Sirius Black kissed Remus Lupin, he was crying.

The world didn’t feel real because his baby brother was no longer on it. And he screamed and yelled until his voice was hoarse and his throat felt like it might bleed and he would choke on the blood. He tore at his skin and hair and cried until he couldn’t see and all the while, Remus held onto him, gripping him so tightly that he left handprints; marks that were proof to the only thing keeping him tied to this existence.

When no more feelings would come to the surface, and he had finally turned to silence, Sirius stared at the floor. His baby brother, the one who he had checked under the bed for monsters for, and read Peter Pan to because the boys never had to grow up, was gone. He had been taken by the very monsters Sirius used to check for, and he could only remember the last words his brother said to him: “I guess it’s like the ticking crocodile. Time is chasing after all of us.”

Sirius could still see the smoking battlefield, witness to the last encounter he would ever have with him. They had both been bleeding heavily, fighting to stay alive, and the words had barely been a fracture on the air between them. They had stood beside one another, not as Death Eater and Order Member, not as dark and light, not as enemies but as brothers.

And now his brother was dead. Time had finally caught up to him.

Remus stood before Sirius, holding his face between his hands, gripping his jaw firmly. He stared into him, amber eyes frantic but unyielding.

“You are damaged and broken and unhinged,” Remus said and Sirius inhaled the words as though he needed them to survive. There was something so heartbreakingly truthful in him, so raw and tender and meaningful. “But so are shooting stars and comets and people still like to wish on those.”

And Sirius didn’t know what overcame him. Perhaps he was just waiting for the world to be beautiful again, because he hadn’t seen it that way for so long, but he leaned in and he kissed Remus Lupin. Sirius moved his lips against Remus’, relishing in the way the latter melted into him. There was nothing restrained about it; they were wild and ravaging, passionate and desperate, gasping for air and something that would make them feel alive again. Their hearts were throbbing, veins pulsing and rejuvenated, and they both thrived off of the vitality. There was something so beautiful about humans in despair, something so fresh and torn and unbridled.

And Sirius Black kissed Remus Lupin because he couldn’t afford not to. Because everything was being ripped away from him and he’d be damned if he let Remus be taken off of him too.

The first time Sirius Black made love to Remus Lupin, he didn’t feel real.

They were a delicate tangle of limbs and tongues and their flesh seared every time it touched. It felt like they were on fire; a flame of life and youth and the desperation of having Death breathing down your neck. But the only breaths they felt in that moment were each other’s, inhaling everything the other exhaled, living on the other’s life.

Sirius had never felt anything like it. Remus whispered in his ear, over and over, punctuating each kiss with the words, “Rwy'n dy garu di.”

The following morning, when the sunlight crept through the slit in the curtains to lay witness to their tarnished love, they faced one another, smiling muzzily.

Sirius murmured, “If every morning started off like this, maybe I’d actually be able to sleep at night.”

Remus smiled at him, and locked their hands together, playing with his fingers. “I dreamt about you,” he told him.

Sirius’ eyebrows raised, evidence to his piquing interest. He leaned forward and said excitedly, “Was I murdering people?”

A slightly exasperated smile curled Remus’ lips and his eyes were amused and gentle when he said, “I was trying to be romantic.”

“Oh.” Sirius leaned back, but his cheeks were pink. He stared at their interwoven fingers. “Well, what boring adventure was I up to in this dream then, since I was regretfully not murdering people?”

“You were alive. With me. And all of this was over, and we were happy,” Remus said in a quiet voice. “And we were a big family. You and me and James and Lily and Pete. We were a family again.”

“One day that won’t just be a dream,” Sirius told him, reaching up to stroke his cheekbone. Remus tried to smile and nodded.

“I know.”

There were not many things that Sirius Black cared for. In his life, he thought he had an approximate total of three.

One, was, of course the map. God, Sirius loved the map. He loved every crease and stain, every smudge and line. He had memorised the folds and crevices of the parchment until he could trace it in the air, even when the map was nowhere in sight. He loved the midnight memories and the escapades it represented. He loved the fact that it was home.

The second was exactly that. Hogwarts had taken him in, had sheltered him and ensured his safety. The stone walls had witnessed his growth, and he could not possibly think of anywhere else he loved more. It was the only place he felt he belonged.

And the third, as he stared at the gold of his hair, and the star-like freckles that dotted his face, was irrevocably and undeniably, Remus Lupin. 

That was a lie before, Sirius thought, feeling Remus’ hand ghost up his arm. This was where he belonged.

The first time Sirius Black killed for Remus Lupin, he was shocked.

The spell had left his lips as easily as a whistle might, or a hum of an old song. It had left his lips, then the green light groped at the tip of his wand and exploded outwards. The spell had collided with the Death Eater before he could even change his mind.

Remus watched it all. When his body hit the floor, they both stared at his lifeless corpse with blank eyes and then Remus raised his gaze to Sirius, something frigid and scared lurking there. Sirius willed himself to feel the same sort of revulsion as Remus did, and for a moment, a sliver of shock rang through him. But then the war crashed down and every one of Remus’ breaths came out as small globes of white on the air, cold but proof that he was still alive.

And then, Sirius felt nothing at all.

The first time Sirius Black saved Remus Lupin, he nearly died.

The green spell had been spiralling towards him, whistling through the air as though it was something as trivial as a ball waiting to be caught. But there was no way Remus was catching this ball. Time might be chasing after them all, but it was far away from Remus.

Sirius hadn’t even waited. He had run, faster than he possibly could, feeling the wind whip past him as he raced to get where he needed to be. And for a second… he thought he wasn’t going to make it-

But he did. Sirius leapt at him, shoving Remus down and he swore the spell tickled his ear. They laid, gripping one another, numb to their very core.

Then, a yell tore through the static and they were wrenched back into action, scrambling to their feet. They faced each other, panting. Remus was pale, his eyes wide and perturbed.

Sirius wanted to say something, but words evaded his mouth. Adrenaline pounded within him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Remus stressed, and his scars throbbed with fury. “You could’ve died! Do you never think-?”

“I would die for you!” Sirius said and there was a desperate honesty clinging to his words.

Remus shook his head and he shouted, “That’s just it, Sirius! I don’t want you to die for me!”

His voice was ragged, verging on breaking. Sirius frowned, and his mouth opened and closed, forming questions that were lost on Remus’ ears. He looked puzzled, like he couldn’t quite understand.

Remus licked his lips, and he let his eyes trail around the bloody forest they were fighting in, raking trees and grass and bodies, because the pained confusion on Sirius’ face was too much for him to bear.

Eventually, he sighed and dragged them back to him. Sirius still hadn’t said anything- he couldn’t.

“You think that love means dying for someone,” Remus said carefully, trying to control the volume of his voice. “But it doesn’t. Love is nothing if you die. Okay, Sirius? IT’S NOTHING!” He broke off. He was trembling, and he couldn’t even look at the boy who had saved his life, who had cared for him and looked after him and reminded him of purpose every time he felt like he was losing track. He couldn’t look at Sirius because the truth was tearing him apart. Remus said finally, in a voice so honest it was breaking, “If you die, I’m nothing.”

And it took him a moment to see it, but Remus Lupin was shaking and his ragged edges were fading away again, because to him, Sirius Black was everything.

Much later on, when the skies had grown darker and the clouds were suffocating and no light could break through them, they laid in bed, not facing one another. Their bodies were pulsing with life, however tired that life was.

“Remus,“ Sirius said quietly and so suddenly that it seemed to fracture the serenity of the night.

"What?” He whispered back.

“I think I know what love means.”

Remus paused. He remembered their argument about that and it seemed so long ago, like something he had to dig up from the chaos of the past. “And what does it mean?”

Sirius didn’t speak for a while, and Remus was about to turn around to look at him when he said, “It’s not dying for someone. It’s living for them. It’s loving someone so much that you’d do anything to make it back to them. I get it now.”

And Sirius made a vow right then, as his fingers reached behind him to hook onto Remus’, that he would live for him. No matter how many skies had fallen, Sirius Black would live. If only for Remus Lupin.

The first time Sirius Black heard that Remus Lupin hated him, he tried to kill himself.

The cell was dark and cold. The shadows were even darker, but the guards that paced on the other side of those black bars were the coldest. They looked in at him as they passed, their hollow eyes the only indication of their darkness and Sirius tried to avoid looking at them because they fed off of the darkness inside of him and God only knew that would be enough to last them a lifetime.

He waited. He waited for weeks, months, years, but Remus Lupin did not come to visit him.

So Sirius curled up in a corner of his cell, not watching as the plates of food piled up at his door, not looking up as he wasted away, becoming a ghost of the boisterous boy he used to be. It was strange. Now, it was he who was fading away. But Remus wasn’t there to see it.

He remembered the way James’ face had looked. His glasses were askew, and before he’d moved on, Sirius had paused to straighten them. His best friend hated wearing wonky glasses.

He remembered the way Lily’s vibrant hair was fanned out around her head, like a halo of fire, only her halo was devoid of light because Lily and James Potter were dead.

And they thought he had killed them. Remus thought he had killed them.

It hurt more than anything else. It hurt more than life itself, more than death, more than the sky shattering and the pain of the shards that fell from the ruin.

This hurt more. This was agony.

It was hot, writhing inside of him, burning him. He could feel his bones ignite, and the tears streamed out of his eyes, but Sirius made no noise. He was consumed with sadness, with the overwhelming notion of ‘This is it. This is all there is now.’ Nothing mattered anymore because this was it; the black cell with the cold guards, starving an innocent man of life.

This was all there was ever going to be.

And Sirius fell backwards, his body too exhausted and frail to function. He could feel Time’s breath whisper against the back of his neck, and when he closed his eyes, he saw Remus’ face and he counted the freckles.

The first time Sirius Black saw Remus Lupin after all those years, he held him.

He had forgotten how much he longed for this touch. He had forgotten how warm Remus was through his clothes. He had forgotten how the beat of his heart felt as it resonated through both of their chests. Sirius had forgotten how Remus had felt, and he had nearly died to remember it.

But now they were back, and it felt like some sort of dream, except this was something that not even dreams were made of. There were less freckles on his leathery face, and his golden hair was greying, and the scar that kissed his mouth had faded away.

And yet, Remus’ arms around him still felt like home. It had been so long, but this was the beginning of a beautiful world again. Because Sirius was home.

The last time Sirius Black saw Remus Lupin, he realised something.

The atrium was dark and metallic; not really the place he had always imagined he’d die in. Spells whizzed both in front and behind him, but they didn’t matter, because one had already touched him. He could feel Time’s breath hot on his neck.

The archway reached out for him, and the tendrils were softer than Sirius had imagined. He could hear his Godson screaming, and his eyes ghosted over the raw and wild expression on the young boy’s face and then he saw him.

Sirius saw Remus.

There was some sort of disbelief fringing his amber eyes. He was clutching at Harry, holding him back, and the desperation that poisoned every freckle made Sirius want to fight, tooth and nail, to stay. But there was nothing he could do. He was dying. That was the simple and bitter truth of it.

It was in that moment, the moment of limbo between life and death, that Sirius realised something. He realised that maybe he was wrong, that love isn’t watching someone die- it’s watching them live.

And it’s watching them live with such passion. It’s watching them cry under the moonlight, and laugh with the stars, it’s kissing their forehead when daylight finally surrenders to the oncoming clutches of the night. It’s watching them breathe and hope and dare to dream. And my God, it was loving their life so much that it invoked a breathlessness sensation, which struck you with the most overwhelming of unfathomable thoughts. It was watching them live and knowing that you are the most privileged human in the world for it.

And Sirius Black had watched Remus Lupin live. He had seen his life in snippets and in full, blown out explosions. He had seen him as a scarred and nervous child, fading away on his first night at Hogwarts, and as a free-spirited boy, racing down hallway after hallway, his laughter peeling behind him. He had seen Remus as a werewolf, a self-proclaimed monster that was really no more monstrous than he, himself. He had seen him as a top student, as a prefect, as a Best Man, as a best friend, as a soldier. Sirius had seen Remus Lupin’s stars and constellations, he had bared every inch of him and kissed every scar. He had watched him live the most extraordinary of extraordinary lives.

And Sirius knew, that he was the most privileged human in the world for it.

Actually true love is centering someone's bindi for them. Actually it's adjusting their dupatta so it's evenly draped. Actually it's straightening the collar of their kurta. Actually it's making chai when they didn't ask. Actually it's running your fingers over their mehndi. Actually it's giving them your last samosa.

Remus: *appears in the field of vision*

Sirius: (internally) My favourite human has arrived. They are cute and smart and my favorite. I must great them in a manner indicative of my appreciation of their existence.

Sirius: Hey nerd.

not kaz and nikolai knowing exactly WHO are each other's weaknesses...

I Read A Court of Silver Flames Because I Guess I Just Hate Myself Now

Here’s a fun fact about me: I work in a hospital emergency department. Some shifts, I hit a point where we’re short-staffed, there are sixty people in triage, ambulances are calling in every 2.5 minutes, everybody has COVID and/or bedbugs, and I’m running on adrenaline, half a protein bar, and a metric fuckton of cold black coffee. I realize it’s not going to get better, so I embrace it. I lean into the shitshow, and it’s almost like ascending to a higher state of consciousness.

It’s a point where, someone could literally take a shit on my shoes while naked and screaming obscenities (this has happened), and I’m just like, IS THAT ALL YOU GOT? BRING IT ON! When I hit that point, I am fucking invincible.

That’s where I’m at with SJM books, and… ACOSF almost broke me anyway.

I might be done after this one. Either way, I’m going to have to take a long, hard look at every life choice that brought me to the last two days I spent reading this book.

Hold on tight, everyone, because this book is a dumpster fire of such epic proportions, I wouldn’t use its pages to wipe my ass. This is a very long recap, and I had to cut a LOT just so it wouldn’t be a novel by itself. CW for a truly astonishing amount of slut-shaming, piss-poor treatment of mental health and addiction issues, and multiple graphically detailed sexual assaults.

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