𝔖𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔢𝔱 18, 𝔚. 𝔖.

But he's embarrassed to be seen sleeping with it; he's a big kid now and he wants his new friends to think he's cool.

He tries keeping it in his trunk at first, it's close and he knows it's there, he knows it's safe.

However, after a couple of nights of being unable to sleep and missing Reggie far too much, he has to bring it out and shove it to the bottom of his bed.

barty has one sad lonely pillow

NINI I SCREAMEEEEED WHEN I SAW THIS, i wanted to write ab knight remus/prince sirius FOR AGES, THANK U ILY

first of all, let’s establish that remus kneels not in submission but in devotion, forehead pressed to sirius’s hand after every battle, murmuring ancient vows that bind his soul tighter than any oath of knighthood ever could

sirius traces the scars on remus’s bare shoulders by candlelight in the hidden alcove behind the throne room tapestries, lips brushing each old wound as if his kisses could rewrite the pain into something holy

the prince’s laughter echoes through the training grounds when remus disarms him during secret sword lessons, bodies pressed close in the dirt, hearts racing faster than any duel could explain

remus’s calloused hands tremble every single time when he adjusts sirius’s silver circlet (little circular band, typically worn as an ornament around the head)

from his post remus watches sirius stroll through the inner courtyard with his younger brother, arms slung casually around each other, their easy camaraderie glowing under the sun, and remus grips his sword harder, wishing he could walk beside him without armor between them

during tournaments remus fights with ferocious grace, but the moment sirius stands to cheer from the royal box, the knight’s strikes grow lighter, his helm turning instantly toward him, every victorious glance directed only at the prince. sirius stands there radiant and beautiful, smiling brightly as he leans forward and throws a single flower at remus’s feet, the crowd roaring while their eyes stay locked in plain, aching devotion​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

sirius’s hand lingers too long on remus’s shoulder when the knight kneels to report, thumb brushing the wolf emblem over his heart

the way remus’s voice drops soft and reverent when addressing the prince in private moments, calling him “my liege”

maids giggle behind tapestries because sirius always finds excuses to summon his knight at odd hours, and remus arrives breathless, their silhouettes through the chamber door too close, too gentle

buff marlene ᕙ(ᵕ •̀ _ •́ )ᕗ

time-lapse below the cut:

james’ sexuality is regulus