mountainrusing
Fandoms
Recent works
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adulthood (follow the renegades) by mountainrusing for Luvvvvvv
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
30 May 2026
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Summary
james has money, persistence, and an endless want. remus has unpaid bills, dirty laundry, and more baggage than it’s worth.
(to accept love: is it because you’ve healed, or because you lack the strength to keep fighting?)
(to give love: is it easy, free and simple like the stories preach, or is it mentally exhausting?)
Series
- Part 3 of moonchaser one-shots
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Summary
The universe is ever-changing. Often, the beliefs of those living in it aren’t. When this incompatibility reaches a breaking point, the result isn’t breakage. It’s… renewal, Regulus thinks. Revival, a reminder that change is inevitable, and if one can’t handle it…
Well. They’ll just have to.
This is the story of the universe Regulus lives in. It is not his, because the universe is indomitable, inviolable and inalienable. His job is simply to let it be. To conserve its principles, and watch as it is once again born out of a heat death, a collapse, a black hole.
Series
- Part 1 of they say we’re not real
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oh, Gods just wanna have fun by mountainrusing for SeaingStars
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
05 May 2026
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Summary
Ginevran gods are immortal. Immortality is considered the greatest blessing: any other opinion is sacrilegious. They are able to entertain themselves endlessly and suffer zero consequences — violence, sex, drugs, alcohol — what more could they want? They can do it all, forever, and never die.
It’s perfection to the highest degree.
And Remus hates it.
Series
- Part 2 of they say we’re not real
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drink the ratwater by mountainrusing for prongssconstellations
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
19 Jan 2026
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Summary
Meeting him meant... everything could change.
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Summary
All a younger brother could ever be: an annoying, stupid, innocent nuisance.
Recent series
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- Words:
- 16,464
- Works:
- 3
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Summary
a fictional, mythological universe of gods & goddesses & deities centred on marauders’ era characters.
- Words:
- 33,337
- Works:
- 2
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- Words:
- 17,032
- Works:
- 30
- Bookmarks:
- 2
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- Words:
- 25,913
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- 3
Recent bookmarks
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Please, Please, Please (Let Me Get What I Want This Time) by nicodiangelol for Stevieraecon
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
26 Jun 2024
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Summary
“Well … no,” Remus deflates and rubs his eyes, “I don’t know what to do. I needed those credits to finish the year. Otherwise, I have to do it all over again. Please, is there any way I can make it up?”
McGonagall’s stern expression slowly wavers, melting into something softer and more sympathetic. “Let’s have a look,” she sighs, “How does this sound … Advanced Mandarin?”
“Advanced?” Remus croaks. McGonagall takes one look at him and moves to the next option.
“International Business.”
“Please, no.”
“Postcolonial Legacies in the Middle East.”
“Yes! Perfect.”
“Ah, that one seems to be full,” McGonagall winces and gives him an apologetic look when Remus’ face falls. “Well, if not a course … you could make up for it with an extracurricular activity,” she suggests.
“What does that mean?” He asks, and then it hits him, “Like, sports?!”
“Like sports,” McGonagall confirms, “I’ve been made aware that the cricket team is looking for a player. There’s a spot open.”
“Oh no, I don’t really … do sports."
or
James Potter has very sexy hands and Remus is extremely into it.
Series
- Part 1 of I Said, I Love The Smiths
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 19,684
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 32
- Kudos:
- 277
- Bookmarks:
- 66
- Hits:
- 3,581
Bookmarked by mountainrusing
06 Oct 2024
Bookmarker's Notes
“Your mind is such a bleak place, it’s fascinating, Remus,” Mary remarks, looking at him with curiosity.
—
Remus doesn’t remember what exactly James kept saying, but he remembers the soft, rumbling depth of his voice. He could’ve been reciting The Communist Manifesto and Remus would’ve probably still found it reassuring.
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sports star james being a professional at massaging muscles, and a perpetually aching and injured remus...
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Summary
There are plenty of things Remus hadn’t expected in his humble, homeschooled Wizard life. But being tailed through the dirty London streets by Quidditch star James Potter?
That is something Remus never, ever expected.
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Or, the one where James learns how to woo someone without being able to use his title as a famous Quidditch player and Remus has fun playing the oblivious Muggle
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 18,128
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 86
- Kudos:
- 1,973
- Bookmarks:
- 496
- Hits:
- 19,486
Bookmarked by mountainrusing
21 Jul 2024
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Where my treasure is a grave by ethelcainfest, everythingsbetterunderthestars
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
20 Oct 2025
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Summary
They were both widowed from the war.
When they met, draped in black and eyes dull, their hearts were hollow, their faces thinned from grief and survival, and they had little left to lose. Lily had never cared for the money; Narcissa had never cared for herself.
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Or, everything Lily has ever loved, she's loved it straight to death.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,333
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 12
- Kudos:
- 21
- Bookmarks:
- 6
- Hits:
- 186
Bookmarked by mountainrusing
10 Jun 2026
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Carrots and daisies by everythingsbetterunderthestars
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
10 Oct 2025
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Summary
After Luna's mother passes, she cuts all contact with Ginny, who's left to miss her best friend until they reunite at Hogwarts. When they eventually rekindle their friendship, Ginny thinks she'll have a better chance at keeping Luna this time if she goes along with the silent agreement not to mention the years they spent apart.
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Or, Ginny and Luna have matching earrings from their childhood and surprise each other by both wearing them again on the same day.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,115
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 10
- Kudos:
- 18
- Bookmarks:
- 4
- Hits:
- 145
Bookmarked by mountainrusing
10 Jun 2026
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Summary
Strange thing, to stumble upon your most reviled foe, in this youthful form, at his worst moment.
Standalone.
Series
- Part 7 of love lost
Bookmarked by mountainrusing
06 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
A young man kneeling distantly in the dirt: auburn-haired and sweet, he clutches at a motionless girl in his arms. A jagged gash tears across her chest. He trembles around her, wand clutched haphazardly in his palm, sleeves stained with spots of bright blood.
He looks up sharply as you approach. His eyes, blue like the free sky, flicker.
You think he’s beautiful like this, bloodied and in pain. You want to break him further; you want him at your feet. You want to elevate him; you want to lead him further astray.
He doesn’t move, as though frozen, transfixed at the sight of you, for you are a stranger to him.
Odd, to be so starkly unrecognised by the very man who was your initial contact, your very first introduction to the wizarding world.
You couldn’t ever forget him. And he shouldn’t forget you. But this version of him is so young; it will be decades before he sets eyes on little orphan boy Tom.
Kneeling, you reach for him thoughtlessly, just wanting to touch your fingers upon this curious being, as though doing so would confirm that he is in fact real and not some strange illusion. But then, at last, he finds the will to unfreeze. His mouth falls open:
“Help her…” he breathes, “Please.”
His hand shudders, uncontrolled. Fingers spasming along the length of his wand. If he held it any tighter, he might snap it outright.
Well, when he asks so sweetly, you think.
You extract your bone-white wand, elegant heartless thing, from the holster hidden within the folds of your robes. Though your hand is made to spill blood rather than mend a bleeding wound, it is a versatile tool, capable of reversing the very damage it wrought. Just as you seize life, you must be able to return it too, or you cannot claim any domain over Death.
Though, in this case, the harm is not your doing. For once.
She doesn’t move; she doesn’t breathe. But through your delvings into Soul Magic, you’ve gained a sort of seventh sense. You can see souls—not only your own fractured one, but that of others. And you can see hers, still lingering there, floating, lost. As though dazed, as though in disbelief at its own passing.
You reach out with your magic, wand pointed to the heavens, and gather her soul. Like spun yarn, and your wand the spindle. She doesn’t struggle. Not conscious enough to resist. Fresh enough to be pliable.
You press the point of your wand against that sturdy heart-bone. The red recedes. You don’t bother mending her clothes.
She still isn’t breathing. Naturally. All you’ve done is sew a corpse shut.
You unravel the yarn of her soul from your wand. With each inch, you lay a binding spell upon her, tying her soul back into her body. It’s not the same as the natural bindings that keep a person alive, that anchor the soul to life. But like surgery stitches, they need only hold long enough for the soul to heal itself and seal back together. And it will.
Resilient thing, the soul. Murder may split it apart, but with time, with reflection, it will mend again. It is the natural way.
You would know. To you, it is an obstacle; to her, it is salvation.
Dumbledore gasps. Warmth is returning to her body. Her heart stutters, waking with a jolt, then finds its footing.
Wonder in Dumbledore’s eyes. “Ari...” His wand has dropped to the ground, forgotten in the grass. His palm is pressed to her chest.
You hum, impassive. You aren’t sure why you bothered to help him.
But then he speaks again.
“Thank you,” he cries. “Thank you.”
You’ve never seen him so uncomposed.
Will he not question what you’ve done? She was clearly dead. He must have realised that, for all that he begged your aid. He must have known the futility of pleading a random stranger to conjure a miracle.
And yet, you did.
Do not look a gift horse in the mouth, you suppose. Not unless you want to see gleaming teeth, a gaping maw.
It’s an ugly thing you’ve done, bound a freed soul back to confinement. Yet that is the condition all humans live under. An affront. An abhorrence. But you’ve never cared for rights nor wrongs, not as dictated by the world. Only your own rules matter, only your values. This is your unique code of honour.
A foreign twinge of affection stirs. Something softens in your chest. You reach out your hand, and place it upon his, still resting upon the girl’s chest, newly unbroken.
“Take her home,” you say. Your voice is flat, baring nothing. “She needs her rest. So do you.”
You will follow, of course. You would see more of this, more of him, now that your original goal is out of reach.
Perhaps this isn’t such a bad trade after all.