#remus transformation

[vampbloodbunny2]

Girls Remus

🤝

,, it's that time of the month"

[gaybubblehead]

James and regulus’s first fight after they get together

James: see! You dont even care!

Regulus(muttering): meow…

James who didn’t hear it: and you dont have anything to say! Awesome. Great. Good to know you care

Regulus louder: me aoww!

James(confused): what was that…?

Regulus: meow!

James: love you are in human form

Regulus: meaw mawww?

James: you cant just say meow and get away from hard conversations! Thats not how it works

Regulus starting to turn around: MEOW MEOW MEOW! Meow, meow me aoww meow!

James following him out: I know I know you dont give a fuck and this is all Sirius’s fault. But can you at least transoform? Its weird to see you like this while you are meowing

[soloorganaas]

if remus hadn’t forgotten to take his potion that night voldemort would never have come back. remus knows the day after the full moon that he put the children in danger. he knows he ruined sirius’s immediate chances at freedom and he has at least a whole year of that hanging over him. but then he finds out voldemort returns, and he finds out how, and he realises that if he hadn’t been so careless that one night then peter would never have made it to voldemort. a boy was killed, harry was tortured, a murderer who will not rest until harry’s dead is set loose, and the wizarding world is once again thrown into a terrifying war

just. how do you even begin to reckon with that

[jehcee]

James: boy friendships are the best.

Marlene: nope, it's not a good bond unless you get your periods around the same time.

Lily: You guys can get high together but NEVER get low on hormones together.

James: ... right

Regulus: what about trans rights bitches?

Remus: ...

[fictionalmenaremytype]

Can someone write me an au where James Potter wasn't home when voldy attacked, killing his wife and child and causing him to go fucking ballistic, please? Him killing Peter and panicking to Remus and Sirius afterwards? The three of them hiding out for years so James isn't sent to azkaban? James getting caught anyways and sent to azkaban only to find out a few years later that the child he thought was dead is starting his third year at hogwarts? Him escaping and immediately wanting to know why his friends didnt tell him sooner, only for Remus to show him a bag full of hair from his last haircut and the batches of polyjuice potion him and sirius have spent the last year or so brewing so James could be harrys DADA teacher (disguised as Remus) until they find a way to convince the ministry how his actions were justified? Thank you.

[kaaaaaaarf]

Remus as a werepossum. Send tweet.

[grimsneverendingfuneral]

wolfmoon, come cast your spell on me

wolfstar oneshot / rated M / werewolf transformation

_____________________________________________

Remus cries and cries and cries. Like a child wanting his mother, he cries.

“It hurts! It hurts!” is all he yells, he thinks. He can hear himself, a faraway, muffled voice, like he’s screaming from behind a bulletproof glass, a few meters away. He wants to reach out and take his own hand, but he doesn’t even see what’s in front of him.

Whispers in his ears turn to shrieks, sounds and textures and smells wafting through him like a whirlwind, trying to make sense of the world around him, to asphyxiate his heightened senses.

He smells the musk and pine of the woods, the rot of the logs in the bog, the thickness of the clouds, the school’s chimney smoke, aftershave, magic, golden pastries, toothpaste, dust, the soft perfume of a dog’s slightly oily fur, the sweetness of an emotion he can’t seem to grasp anymore, the slight tang of blood and dirt. He hears frogs croaking, worms squirming, the river running, pages being flipped, twigs snapping, crickets chirping, leaves crunching. The taste of his own screams bubble on his tongue, heart beating so fast it warms his chest like a bonfire, hammering against his ribs like it's trying to crawl out of the overwhelming heat that has him burning up.

He shakes, weeping, rocks back and forth, clutching at his searing chest. More whispers. "Please, please, please," comes his strangled voice.

[writer-of-sorts]

written with @wolfstarmicrofic prompt: knight

“Remus, my love, my life, my moon, my prince charming, my shining knight, my—”

Remus snapped his book shut and raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend. “Out with it, Pads. What did you do?”

Sirius shifted on his feet. “Okay, you have to promise not to get mad at me!”

“Why would I ever be mad at you? I love you.”

Sirius laughed nervously. “Well… You remember those chocolates we bought from Honeydukes last week?”

Remus sat up straight, narrowed his eyes and nodded.

“I may or may not have eaten the last one.”

Remus took a deep breath and released it. “Okay.”

Sirius’ eyes widened, disbelieving but hopeful. “Okay?”

“Sirius, I love you.”

Sirius let out a relieved sigh, shoulders relaxing.

“Which is why I’m giving you a head-start. You have five seconds to run.”

word count: 136

[dandycandyboi]

Remus - Transfem

Gender comes for Remus in the spaces between the binary. What They know is They are not a boy. They’re not a girl. They’re more a girl than they are a boy, but they’re not a girl.

Gender comes with the feeling of wearing a dress and a mustache and pretty green lipstick and telling a man with a stick up his ass to suck her dick in the most feminine tone she has. Gender is proud cleavage some days and binding others. Gender is letting her snake of a boyfriend call her every name under the sun except girlfriend. Watching other people try to figure her out. Refusing to explain her presence or her presentation to anyone who asks.

Gender is anything outside of what is accepted by the family members who tried to mold her into a perfect son. Refusing to be binary no matter how hard she’s pushed. Not performing femininity and just being fem, at the very center of her being, not caring if it’s pretty to the outside world. Too many layers and clothes that don’t look right to others but feel right to her. to Them. In this moment on this planet They are irrevocably Themselves.

Hello! full disclosure that as a transmasc person transfem doesn’t really fall in my wheelhouse, but I did my best! I pulled more on the nonbinary than the binary trans experience (since that’s where I fall on the spectrum), so feel free to tell me how I can improve if I’ve royally messed this up! I’m always ready to learn.

I have a story that goes along with this, but I can’t write it aesthetically so… maybe I’ll post it separately some other time. I spent like half an hour trying to make those words up there word and I can’t look at words any longer.

[an-absolutedisaster]

The first time that Remus transformed in front of the marauders he cried. The marauders believed it was because of the pain but it was really because in his mind after witnessing this his friends would never be able to look at him again, they would be disgusted. He cried because he believed he would loose the people who meant the most to him; his best friends, his family. But when he transformed back the marauders didn't look disgusted, they moved towards him with a blanket and sat with him until madam Pomfrey arrived. James held his hand and asked how he felt whilst Peter tried to clean up his newest arrivals to his collection of wounds. Sirius was different though, he was silent. He sat at Remus' side silent and when James and Peter left to avoid madam Pomfrey he refused to leave. Remus didn't know what to think, he wasn't sure if Sirius suddenly hated him, if he was scared or disgusted, nor did he know why he wouldn't leave. All he knew was that the moment the other boys left Sirius took his hand in his and moved his head to Remus' shoulder. When Remus asked if he was okay Sirius whispered "You were so beautiful, my brave beautiful boy". He heard footsteps approach and stood, he turned around kissed Remus on the head and moved into the darkness to hide from madam Pomfrey.

When Remus woke up Sirius was asleep at his side and madam Pomfrey mentioned that he refused to leave. Although all he could focus on at that moment was that their hands were once again linked and he could feel heat creeping up his own face. He was Remus' "brave beautiful boy".

[sundriedsanctum]

my heart is breaking for poor Remus he’s only a boy :(

the characterisation is done SO well I’m in awe - I love ALL of the characters but I also love how I’m made to consider each of their flaws as I get to know them

they’re still KIDS, they’re not supposed to be the epitome of what we know them as today and it’s exciting to see how that’s being explored :D

[spikybanana]

Curious, that Harry never asked Remus what his patronus memory was— what was the brightest, purest thing he'd ever known, perhaps the only unblemished half-memory he had left.

A pity, Harry never got to know, that Remus would have answered with the exact same thing as him.

[locatislunaticolupin]

Day Three: Cellar

Written for day three of @remadoramicrofics. 961 words. Also available on Ao3.

Their cottage didn't have a cellar. Dora absolutely refused. Even in those hazy days immediately after the Battle, she knew this was something she wouldn't budge on. It meant that their cottage wasn't the most practical thing for full moon nights, but it was also a statement she wouldn't back out of.

It also meant that Remus refused to transform in their home, in a house with a baby in it, Wolfsbane Potion or not (and, more and more often, as the years went by, it was not). In the push and pull between them, those nights became one of those "compromises" and "adult decisions" that Dora was still learning to make gracefully (her husband shouldn't be kicked out of his own home, she insisted. She was more than strong enough to ward a proper room, she said and proved and tried to guilt-trip with), so, instead of protecting a room or a cellar or an old barn, her wards and his were applied to Little Forest, a crowding of trees in their own back garden. Teddy loved it (there was always a hare sprinting away from him or a crooked tree to climb or gnomes swearing from their holes at their dogs) and Dora could see it from their windows under the light of the full moon, but not any other night.

(Remus thought it was a crazy idea, but he was used to crazy ideas, felt comfortable with them, felt at home when carrying one out).

Soon, much too soon, came the first full moon in their cottage, and wasn’t that something she’d have to get used to. There were still unpacked boxes; they still jumped, wand in hand, at the animals that surrounded them; they still hadn't thought of laying down rugs to prevent the morning cold from seeping into their bones. Remus was terrified, she could tell, but it was the sort of terrified he knew how to push through (if all else failed, after all, he could always trust the moon would be there, right on time, month after month, year after year).

She was terrified too, which is why she consented to Teddy spending the night with his grandmother and why she held tight to her wand all night, but she was headstrong and she loved him, and if she couldn't spend the night with him in Little Forest, she could at least spend it in their cottage, tea in hand.

(And that was Remus' compromise, because he'd learned early on to hide, to put out of sight, to bury and stow away and conceal and bury deep down under. Now he had to share this part of his life, too, as much as he could. Share the parts of himself he didn't enjoy as much, he found shame and fear in; he’d have share the burdens as much he shared his warmth or a hand on someone's shoulder or a trick, a wink and a smile).

The only warning he gave her was of the screams, of the howling ("It'll echo through the hills and the valleys. The neighbors will hear"), but she didn't think she could get through the night hearing only hoots and crickets and the rustle of leaves, so she told him to try, this one time, this one first time, without the silencing charms. It won't be suspicious this one first time, she said.

She heard, and she’d expected agony even if she didn't know what it sounded like, she’d expected the hairs on her arms to rise. She was embarrassed when they didn't. It wasn't as loud as she thought it'd be and she doubted the neighbors would hear when they didn't even drown out the persistent buzz of the fly she hadn't been able to kill yet. There was agony, there was a shriek and a scream and pain and howling, but it was muffled, kept safe and secret within the canopy in Little Forest.

She saw the hare before she saw the wolf. It was sprinting out of the trees, probably just woken up, its home invaded, determination on its little face. Dora jumped when the wolf appeared a second later, wand in hand because their spells hadn’t worked, they should have known, the land is too old and too itself, it couldn’t be charmed that easily, she should throw up a shield or move the hare or...

The wolf was stopped before she had to think about or. Little Forest was but a spatter of trees, but it folded gently into itself, branches swaying, trunks and stems and grass coiling and curving towards the wolf, holding it with care, gently guiding it back to their careful fold. Dora, heart going thump-thump-thump in her ears, hands shaking, squatted next to the window, face to the glass.

(When they told Teddy, years later, he was delighted. "Of course, Little Forest would take care of da!" he exclaimed. Wild things, after all, took care of each other).

Dora spent that first night next to the windows, every single one that faced Little Forest, wand clutched so tightly it hurt, catching glances of the wolf (and was that a gnome shaking its fist?), watching with worry every sway of the trees. She stepped outside when the light changed, straining her ears, and sprinted towards the trees when a pink line appeared on the horizon.

To her relief, the trees let her in. To her relief, her husband was safe, barely harmed, kept warm by Little Forest itself. She managed to Accio a quilt —old, worn and faded, but so well-loved, like all of Remus’ things— before the tremors took over, the trees (tall and imposing and threatening in a way she’d never seen them) the only witnesses to her fear.

[ophelia-glenkath]

I have a theory.

Werewolf transformation are painful. We've seen that with remus, the magic in the bloodstream is just enough to make the change happen but not enough to muffle the transformation itself it's painful. And we know it's not enough because other animal transformation like animagus don't seem to be painful even though it's physically a similar transformation and transfiguring other people doesn't seem to be painful either like in fourth year with Draco beening turned into a ferret.

So theory, what if someone else transfigures a werewolf into a werewolf before the transformation happens? Since they're already physically a werewolf at that point the transformation won't have to happen. It doesn't even have to be a werewolf it could be like a wolf or something physically similar to a werewolf. Then that at least eliminate the need to transform.

[mwppp]

watching alfonso’s poa the same way i consume canon compliant r/s fanfiction. in the sense that im like this isnt what happened but im having a blast x

[barklikeagodmp3]

I could liken you to a werewolf…