Black Pain

To put it simply, Remus Lupin, renegade werewolf, was miserable. The moon glared upon him, her face disapproving of a failure amongst her children. He glared back at her fully, this was becoming a nightly routine, it was better than dwelling on his own feelings. The wide faced moon was reflected fully in his amber eyes, which were red from lack of moisture. After seeing Harry, he had resolved to no longer cry. It was apparently all he could do anymore.

Snape was gone at the moment; his powerful figure had disappeared in a swirl of black cloak causing the werewolf’s figure to relax. He didn’t know what it was but something about the man had always caused him to tense, his spine to straighten and his shoulders to snap back. But each time, the feeling was different. He didn’t know how to explain it but the man prohibited everything from being straight for him. He spun things about, flipped his world upside down so many times that Lupin now longer knew which way was up.

Lupin could remember the old Snape, a sharp tongued yet meek boy whose snark wit had caused him to have a bad run in, nay many bad run ins, with James during their Hogwarts years. When he mused over the man who owned him now, there wasn’t the slightest similarity between that boy and the man now except for the sarcastic banter that he mildly suspected that Snape was only capable of. The man now was a terrible thing to behold, and Lupin has a slight inkling that his deceased friends are largely responsible for that.

But he wasn’t was he? He had never participated in the cruel jests that had been cast on Snape by his own dear friends. He didn’t deserve this, none of this. But then the moon pierced his eyes again and he hung his head, realizing how utterly wrong he was. There you go again Lupin, he scolded himself, always blaming someone else. Those were the words Snape said when he took him, when he made the werewolf his. Not that he even deserved to be owned by the man that he had utterly destroyed without a care. Sure, he might not have actually taken part in the jokes, but he good as did when he merely watched from the sidelines, refusing to do anything to stop it.

And Sirius, god Sirius, Lupin banged his head against the window. What did you do, he begged of his deceased lover, what were you thinking of leaving me. He tried to remember Sirius’s face, the five-o-clock shadow that accented a crooked smirk and deep blue eyes, but they were becoming hazy. He desperately tried to grasp the strands of his once happy past, but Snape had fucked it out of him, he had killed Sirius both in life and within him. The pure venom and hate in Snape’s voice when he slowly fucked Lupin to an orgasm, “If only he could see you now wolf.”.

Lupin’s head slowly lolled to stare up at the moon again, trying to wipe obsidian eyes from his mind and replace them with cobalt, if only.


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I had Remus refer to himself as Lupin instead of Remus, so that people would get the feeling that Remus was loosing his own sense of self.

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