It Doesn't Matter What Book I'm Reading In The Moment I Can't Go On For Too Long Without Re-reading Crimson

I can feel my life slip trough my fingers

Most of the time I don't even know what day it is

Most of the time I don't like the answer.

I miss you in my broken bones

I look for you in my dreams

My heart aches for you

And everything you said you'd be.

Around this time one year and a half I entered the Marauders fandom because I had found an interesting looking audiobook in Spotify... little did I know that it was fanfiction. I'm so grateful to be in this fandom and get to know so many wonderful people with incredible minds and imagination.

I've been working on doing some of the All te Young Dudes covers and maybe one day I'll learn how to bind it all together.

You know what's truly devastating? That people often overlook Mary's grief. She lost everything she held most dear to a war she never wanted to be part of and had been affecting her since it started, and I'm talking about the segregation and mistreatment that she had to suffer all of her teenage years. Because a war doesn't start in the field, it starts in the mind. In the minds of those who choose to hurt others for simply being different, thinking different and sometimes just for existing.

In the end she chose to wipe her memory, all of those years that brought her so much joy that now only brought her to tears. She chose to live in ignorance, but ignorance is the greatest gift and the biggest curse.

I've just realised something while I was scrolling through my gallery and I feel so dumb. I drew Remus for his birthday and even put it as my profile pic but never posted it. I could swear that I had posted it! Maybe I'm just descending into madness... anyways Happy late Birthday to Moony.

"You believe me like a god

I'll betray you like a man"

But it's Patroclus and Achilles because Achilles is a demigod.

Yellowjackets season 3 episode 9 broke me completely.

Taste by Sabrina Carpenter is soooo Barty being mad about Peter obsessing over Gilderoy .

"...Every time you close your eyes

And feel his lips, you're feelin' mine

And every time you breathe his air

Just know I was already there

You can have him if you like

I've been there, done that, once or twice

And singin' 'bout it don't mean I care

Yeah, I know I've been known to share..."

He's been know to share? Yeah, like when Regulus left him for James! Case closed.

It’s just a Monday, like any other. They’re having eggs and toast for breakfast, the tea caramel-coloured where fresh milk offsets its rich darkness. Remus breathes across the surface and watches it ripple.

“The new Priest arrives today,” Hope says. “You should go and greet him.” Like she’s telling Remus to pick up more bread or some forgotten ingredient for their supper. Inconsequential.

And it should be. Who the Priest is in their little church makes no difference to the Lupins. Their contract with the Church is for life - as long as there is a Lupin living in the caretaker's cottage, they have a place in the Church. They barely interacted with the previous Priest anyway.

“Do you know his name yet?” Remus asks around the smell of his tea, more just to answer than out of curiosity.

“Father Sirius,” Hope says.

(The first time Remus hears it is the last time the name invokes no feelings.)

“He’s about your age, I’ve heard,” Hope continues. “It’s his first time leading a Church. Let’s be gentle to him, Cariad.”

***

And Remus complies. Or - at the least - he means to.

He heads to the Church after their breakfast. Through the old little graveyard he cares for and the roses that need trimming and the grass he’s recently mowed. Comes up to the blooming rhododendron and there stands a man.

His back is turned to Remus. Tall, posture impossibly straight, broad back. His hair is swept to the side, down one shoulder and exposing the line of his neck above a clerical collar, and the delicate arch of his ear.

That’s all Remus sees of him. The sunlight hitting his hair in such a way that the black almost turns golden - a holy man chosen by the grace of the Lord. Illuminated in the mundane morning.

Remus has never felt peace in the confines of the Church. It’s a vibrating, incessant presence for him, the knowledge that in there, Remus is known inside and out, all of his sins on display, the monster that lives within him as close to the surface as it can be outside of the light of the full moon. Scratching to get out as if coaxed forward by the promise of forgiveness Remus knows he can never be given.

There’s peace in the way Father Sirius bends to take a closer look at the blue-pink petals.

There’s something else completely in the way Remus aches to go down onto his knees. It’s nothing like when he prays.

Father Sirius never even sees him standing there, watching, until Remus runs away.

(Tiny little preview of something I’ve been working on while procrastinating from *redacted fest fic*)

After the finale I started to re-watch the whole series and I HAD to draw my queen.