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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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all   my   atoms,   till   I   find   you   again…
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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the fact that andrew knows that he is the fancast for young remus and he is grateful and honoured like sir 😭
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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30/90 is actually a remus Iupin song because he too turned 30 in 1990 and all he wanted to do was lay down and cry 
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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fledrmaus·,    sirius black
                 ⟨⠀@gryffinwolf·   +·𝚂𝙸𝚁𝙸𝚄𝚂 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺⠀⟩⠀·   .⠀.⠀.·⠀    𝙸𝙽𝚃. :   𝙰  𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙳𝚈  𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚄𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙳  𝙱𝚈  𝙰  𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙼,    𝙾𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴  𝙶𝙻𝙾𝚆.    𝚂𝙲𝙰𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳  𝙱𝙾𝙾𝙺𝚂  𝙾𝙽  𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴𝚂  𝚃𝙾  𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙲𝙷  𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈’𝚅𝙴  𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙴𝙳  𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁  𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺𝚂  𝙸𝙽  𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚁  𝙾𝙵  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙵𝙸𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴.    𝚄𝙽𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴𝙻𝚈  𝙳𝚄𝙾  𝙸𝙼𝙼𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴𝙳  𝙸𝙽  𝙲𝙰𝚂𝚄𝙰𝙻  𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽    ––    𝚄𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙻,    𝚂𝚄𝙳𝙳𝙴𝙽𝙻𝚈,    𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂  𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃  𝚃𝙾  𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺  𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈  𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷  𝙽𝙾𝚃  𝙰𝙻𝙻  𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝙲𝙰𝚂𝚄𝙰𝙻.            “𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝙳𝙾  𝚈𝙾𝚄  𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺  𝙵𝙾𝚁  𝙸𝙽  𝙰  𝙱𝙾𝚈𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳?”
                 to  be  undone  by  the  mere  graze  of  a  hand           ;          to  run  first  hot  then  cold  in  a  body  numbed  by  centuries  of  living.           he,           for  once,           defenseless         –––––––––––––––         oh  wonder  of  wonders.          relinquishing  has  always  more  or  less  been  a  choice         –––––––––––––––         it  gets  lonely  at  the  very  top,           where  no  one  can  reach  you.           when  they  all  bow  and  bend,           who  is  there  to  see  past  the  tips  of  your  shoes  ?          who  is  the  audacious  one  that  dares,           still,           to  put  their  hands  where  scarcely  anyone  touches  ?
                 𝚁𝙴𝙼𝚄𝚂  𝙹𝙾𝙷𝙽  𝙻𝚄𝙿𝙸𝙽           .       .       .            intrepid  soldier  of  his  cause           ;          a  magnificent  specimen.           vigilant  and  strong  and  unrelenting         –––––––––––––––         except,           and  this  is  noted  with  no  small  amount  of  glee         –––––––––––––––         when  it  comes  to  him.           a  spark  of  amusement           ;          shift  in  his  posture.           the  lazy  drape  of  an  arm  over  the  back  of  a  chair,           cocky  tilt  of  the  head.           with  eyes  only  a  predator  has  for  prey,           he  looks,           and  looks  closely.           collecting  traits  and  descriptors,           reasons  and  excuses.
𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙰  𝙵𝙸𝙳𝙴  𝙽𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴  𝙾𝙵  𝚁𝙴𝙼𝚄𝚂’  𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙳𝙰𝙸𝙽,           𝙷𝙸𝚂  𝚄𝙽𝙲𝙴𝙽𝚂𝙾𝚁𝙴𝙳  𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚄𝙴           ;          𝚂𝚆𝙴𝙴𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙴𝙳  𝙳𝙸𝚂����𝙴𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙲𝚃.           𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃  𝙱𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙳  𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚆𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴  𝙳𝙴𝙴𝙿  𝙱𝙴𝙽𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷  𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙿𝙴𝙳  𝙷𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈           ;          𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙾𝙽𝙸𝚂𝚃  𝚃𝙾  𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙾𝙽𝙸𝚂𝚃.           𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙸𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙴  𝙱𝙰𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴  𝙾𝙵  𝚃𝙾𝙾  𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷  𝙰𝙽𝙳  𝚃𝙾𝙾  𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴.           𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂,           𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙲𝙸𝚂𝙴𝙻𝚈  𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂,           𝙼𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃  𝙱𝙴  𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝙷𝙴’𝚂  𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙵𝙾𝚁.
                ❛❛      oh,           you  know         –––––––––––––––         just  a  couple  things.           i’m  not  very  picky.      ❜❜                 up  and  down,           head  to  toe         –––––––––––––––         that  nimble,           dark  gaze           .       .       .            famished.           lips  in  a  gentle  upwards  curve,           loaded  like  a  concealed  weapon.                 ❛❛      tall,           curly  haired         –––––––––––––––         sort  of  caramel  coloured,           or  honey  brown.           green  eyes           .       .       .            a  propensity  for  wanting  to  fight  me           .       .       .            ❜❜                 trailing  off,           motioning  hand  suspended  in  the  air           ;          eyebrow  raised,           like,           need  i  say  more  ?
            perhaps   he   shouldn’t   have   asked   exactly   what   was   on   his   mind.            in   a   moment   of   blindness   and   most   importantly   weakness,            remus   had   felt   more   brazen   than   he   remembered   feeling   in   any   of   his   most   recent   endeavours.            in   this   particular   moment,            taking   aim   with   a   gun   loaded   with   silver   bullets,               gently   but   swiftly   squeezing   the   trigger   of   a   crossbow   and   letting   holy   water   soaked   bolts   take   flight   in   search   for   blood,            slashing   at   and   cutting   and   maiming   with   his   most   trusted   blade,            weighted   so   that   it   was   never   off   balance   in   his   hand   as   he   arced   his   arm   and   buried   it   home   in   dead   and   rotten   flesh,            doing   as   he   had   been   trained   for   what   felt   like   almost   as   long   as   sirius   has   existed   in   this   world   -   but   alas   not   even   a   fraction   of   that   much         -         all   of   it   felt   easier,            and   arguably   wiser,            than   sitting   here   in   a   cage   of   his   own   making,            waiting   for   an   honest   answer.   
            as   if   such   a   thing   was   easy   to   extract   from   the   vampire   who   knew   a   little   too   much   about   him,               who   could   probably   heart   as   his   heartbeat   picked   up   its   rhythm   and   now   his   heart   was   fluttering   wildly   against   his   ribcage,               like   a   bird   pleading   with   its   captor   to   be   set   free.   
            and   when   sirius   gave   him   a   once-over,            all   hope   of   maintaining   his   composure   was   lost.            if   someone   were   to   say   that   sirius   black   wasn’t   carefully   and   meticulously   built   to   unravel   all   of   remus   lupin’s   attempts   at   guarding   himself,         then   remus   would   be   quick   to   tell   them   that   that   was   just   as   likely   as   if   he   were   to   grow   wings   and   fly.   
            ultimately,            it   felt   like   sirius   indeed   chose   to   grace   him   with   the   truth   today.               at   least   for   once.   
            ❛            .   .   .      and   also   mortal.            probably   not   of   the   sort   to   bring   home   to   your   family.            ❜               not   that   he   were   that   sort   on   a   good   day.               and   to   a   non-creature-of-the-night   individual.               ❛            i   thought   wisdom   came   with   age.               and   in   turn,            better   choices.                  ❜
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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so uh. remus uses a lot of welsh slang. he has a thickums accent too but only around his friends because he can’t be arsed to soften it which he does do in class or around fellow students + teachers. 
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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so ya girl’s got an interest tracker that you might wanna fill 👀
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you’ll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no … anything. There’s no chance at all of recovery. You’ll just — exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever … lost. - r.j.l.
What is friendship except a soul residing in two bodies?  -  aristotle
Remus Lupin outlived them all. Until he was at last. Alone.
Death. The shadow of both wolf and boy for years, reunited with the souls taken from him too soon.
                    REMUS LUPIN WAS NO LONGER ALONE.
  indie remus john lupin - anti jkr.
                monstrously made.  horridly human.  wonderfully wolf.  🌕
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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𝚐𝚛𝚢𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚛 ! 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 !
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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“it’s always the same ending, it’s the way our story goes. with me losing you.”
— endings are always the saddest part / letters of a lost love.//t.c
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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new tags 2
❛  RELATIONS   ...   ›   potter‚    harry
❛  RELATIONS   ...   ›   potter‚     james
❛  RELATIONS   ...   ›   black‚    sirius
❛  RELATIONS   ...   ›   pettigrew‚    peter
❛  RELATIONS   ...   ›   evans‚   lily
❛  MARAUDERS   ...   ›   we solemnly swear that we are up to no good
❛  LUPIN   ...   ›   in those days there was no cure
❛  WORLDS   ...   ›   the best times of my life
❛  WORLDS   ...   ›   first war
❛  WORLDS   ...   ›   interbellum 
❛  WORLDS   ...   ›   second war
❛  BETRAEYER   ...   ›   when i close my eyes with the stars and the moon
❛  GRYFFINPADS   ›   the oldest story in the universe‚ a tale in which there was never enough time
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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new tags !
❛  PINNED
❛  MAINS CALL
❛  PLOTTING CALL
❛  STARTER CALL
❛  OOC   ...   ›   finally the flesh reflects the madness within
❛  SELF PROMO   ...   ›    three: his name’s remus Iupin
❛  PROMO   ...   ›   mr. moony presents his compliments
❛  WRITINGS   ...   ›   give five signs that identify the werewolf
❛  HEADCANON   ...   ›   he’s sitting on my chair
❛  RAMBLINGS   ...   ›   he’s sitting on my chair
❛  WISHES   ...   ›   you can exist without your soul
❛  APPEARANCE   ...   ›   rather pale and peaky
❛  ART   ...   ›    rather pale and peaky
❛  STUDY   ...   ›   the quality of one's convictions that determines success
❛  CRACK   ...   ›   loony‚ loopy lupin
❛  AESTHETIC   ...   ›   furry little problem
❛  SHIP STUDY   ...   ›   somebody young and whole
❛  DASHBOARD   ...   ›    our pain becomes their power
❛  PROMPTS   ...   ›   this time tomorrow‚ the owls will start arriving
❛  INBOX   ...   ›   did you like question ten‚ moony?
❛  KEEPSAKES   ...   ›   there are worse things to lose than control
❛  SHITPOSTERY   ...   ›   loony‚ loopy lupin
❛  EDITS   ...   ›   if i’m proud of anything i’ve done this year
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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soooo soft for the 'i found you fast asleep and you looked cold so I covered you in my jacket and let you sleep' narrative but especially for the reprise: 'i just woke up after the best sleep i've had in the past month, I'm warm and safe and - wait, is this your jacket?'
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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It was a lie, wasn't it? A beautiful lie we told ourselves. That nothing in the dark mattered.  Nothing under the moon. It did, didn't it? When the light comes and exposes it all. It always mattered.    —     @gryffinpads
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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Martino & The Earring™
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gryffinwolf · 2 years
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     and i broke my back to break your will.  i tore my skin to bleed you out.  i bared my teeth and i screamed when you told me to smile and to speak well.  i am not the creature you made me.  i am my own. 
            𝕚 𝕒𝕞 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟.   𝕙𝕒𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕪.   𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕘𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕪.
𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 // ᵃⁿᵗⁱ ʲᵏʳ // ʷʳⁱᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ˡʸᵈⁱᵃ
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