𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 ● 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝓦ᴏʀᴅs ᴀʀᴇ, ɪɴ ᴍʏ ɴᴏᴛ sᴏ ʜᴜᴍʙʟᴇ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ, ᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏsᴛ ɪɴᴇxʜᴀᴜsᴛɪʙʟᴇ 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 ᴄᴀᴘᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏғ ʙᴏᴛʜ ꜜɪɴғʟᴜᴇɴᴄɪɴɢ ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ, ᴀɴᴅ 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡. ᅠ┈┈ ᅠꜥꜤ ᅠ،، 𝄞 ࿔

                                —  I  WANT  TO  COME  HOME

independent harry potter multimuse featuring credence barebone of fantastic beasts, penned by grey  (they/them ; 26), follows back from roleplay hub greyhovse, CARRD

For no particular reason someone distantly stared at one of {older} Black's tattoos.

The grey entity's stare was as intense as any other personage's hiding behind the facade of the shadows. Where streaks of eyelashes would shut firmly during an instant moment, the austere exhale of air (accumulated in his cheek) would melt away any hint of tension on his visage. Subconsciously his palm tracked the pierced epidermis in absent rub over the area of the anonymous focus. Sirius could clearly feel where that stare aimed.

The left side of his neck. It carried something; a symbol carved in the flesh.

“ If you're staring at /THIS/ and even plan to ask about it, ” he quickly assumed whilst pointing digit at the tattoo, “ don't expect any good stories coming your way. That day I had more booze in me than I dare to remember. All about it; blackout. ”

It sounded convincing, didn't it? Maybe, or very likely -- not. Sounding like if he just remembered one of adventures during days of his youth. However, what Sirius brought up in a small cascade of harmless lie had a story much dreadful behind the markings of his tortured body. One thing never changed with elder Black, and that is -the urge to act a bit bratty whenever questioned about some of his bad experiences.

The old library, Trinity College, Dublin, Ireland.

messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you’ve just got off your broomstick

bob morley as james potter

HARRY POTTER AND THE PRISONER OF AZKABAN (2004)

                       “Off to save the world, are we?”

Aberforth Dumbledore RP blog. Selective. Mun 21+. Anti JKR. Not spoiler free.

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Detail of the Snakes from Caravaggio’s Head of Medusa ca. 1596

I wanted (had to) to keep him in the box, locked with many ... many ... locks until IDK the right moment would come, but I guess not gonna happen anytime soon. How long is my patience going to last with the obnoxious frisk (James)? Guess I must be starving for chaos, how else to explain it.