howl

Lycanthrope, noun - A werewolf is a human being who, upon the rising of the full moon, becomes a fearsome and deadly near-wolf. A werewolf cannot choose whether or not to transform and will no longer remember who they are and would kill even their best friend given the opportunity once transformed. there is no known cure.

[cfmoony-blog]

stardustedly:

“What about the stag?” @cfmoony

“Has been herding me about the castle like a lost faun but y’know what Prongs is like.”

[cfmoony-blog]

imwormtail:

From the very beggining of the day, Peter could tell that there was something weird happening around him. Sure Hogwarts had many students and was weird by itself… but not like that. You see.. After 7 years in that place he had gotten used to lots of students.. and now he could barely recognize any of them in the crowd and that wasn’t right. Was he going nuts? He was probably going nuts. Or maybe the other guys were throwing a prank on him. It was hard to say which option was more likely to be. “2024?” he frowned, finally realizing the Prophet on the table. “What the fuck..?” he went over the pages, confused, but his vision suddenly too blurred for him to focus on anything. He could feel his heart beat fast agains his chest “O-ok, guys, this is ridiculous, you all can stop joking over me!” he looked around him, pretty much sure he was sounding crazy.

“We’re not pulling your leg, Petey, something mental has happened.” Remus pulled his sleeves down over his hands, fiddling with the knit of his jumper. Just thinking about the possibilities made something hot and itchy crawl up his spine. People had been staring at him, gawping and so far all he’d managed to do was slip behind Sirius and James and hope that they’d bloody well stop. “I wish we were joking.”

[siriusblaak-deactivated20180722]

[cfmoony-blog]

theprvng:

    like his usual day to day routine, james potter left his dorm at six in the morning, clearly clueless at the changing weather. dressing a sweater and trainers, he found quite strange as some faces he crossed in the halls were unfamiliar to him, but he was probably still asleep. like every morning, he would grab his coffee at the great hall before marching to the quidditch field, harsh cold breeze shaking his body as he grabbed his bat and walked over to the stadium. a shadow, however, caught his eye and taking a grip on his bat, his voice sounded soothing “   HELLO… ?   “

remus was not particularly graceful, never had been, too much limb and not enough control. even when he was bumping into doorframes and catching his hip against the corners of desks, one thing he knew how to be was quiet. he clasped a book in his hands as he trudged along behind james. however clever and talented prongs was, he could be completely oblivious when lost in his own head, or thinking about quidditch. remus grinned sheepishly. “hullo, mate.”

[tartts]

My hollow bones are singing a painful song; a cacophony of growls and whimpers.

The Starvation Symphony // b.s. (via maryamorvena)

[cfmoony-blog]

droobledalice:

♦ — “  Excuse me, you don’t happen to have a copy of the Daily Prophet on you, do you? Thanks.  ” Alice spoke as she swallowed her toast, unease settling in her stomach as people - people she didn’t recognise, people that stared openly as if remembering something that happened a long, long time ago - threw glances in her direction. She pressed the rim of her mug, filled with piping hot tea, against her bottom lip as she skimmed over the date and headlines. She glanced up as someone slid into the seat next to her, offering a tiny, weak smile. “  Morning.  ”

Remus carefully clambered over the bench of the Gryffindor table, he wobbled a little as he did, jostling a girl he didn’t recognize. “M’sorry,” he murmured placatingly. The Great Hall was heaving, at absolute capacity since... whatever had landed them all here. Remus grabbed the nearest teapot, pouring himself a generous helping of English Breakfast and just adding a splash of milk. He turned a tired, crooked smile on Alice, “Morning.” A moment later he whispered to her from the corner of his mouth, “hang in there Fortescue.”

[cfmoony-blog]

flongbottm:

       frank took another long drag from his cigarette, puffing out the smoke in small rings that he watched carefully with his eyes. ❝ i know i shouldn’t, ❞ he said, speaking to the figure he could hear approaching from behind. ❝ but in times like these, i’d say this is kind of warranted. ❞

remus raised his eyebrows before revealing the rollie between his fingers, quirking a lopsided smile in frank’s direction. he popped it between his lips, lifting his wand and cupping it against the wind. “incendio.”

[tarjeimoe]

(╯︵╰,)

[cfmoony-blog]

me living my life: chaotic tired

[cfmoony-blog]

hi this is m again bombarding the intro tag with my boys. sorry if its a lil short but here’s remus!!

he’s trying, he is. really very hard.

actually talking about and addressing his own feelings??? are u havin a laff?? makes dry comments into his lager at the pub instead. thats almost the same as acknowledging his own emotions right?

dog-ears page corners, chews his quills, has never worn a matching pair of socks in his life,,, aka ur problematic fave

the order is the only thing in his entire life that makes sense.

is soft.

actually a mess.

is pretty much ok with the clash?? i mean, he’s got his best mates in the entire world with him so.

has a child that apparently fucked with time so hard that everyone is surprised the universe hasn’t collapsed... will prob lowkey be proud of that.

marmalade on toast, bone-deep aches, steam hitting your face huddled over a mug of tea, tasting blood on the back of your teeth, dust motes and early morning sun, the paper-thin fragility of scar tissue, fingers, soft, in your hair, creaking floorboards, thick coarse fur, pulling on a stray thread of a jumper even though you know it’ll only unravel faster. the moon, howling.

if you wanna plot just message me or if you’re feeling a bit shy like this and i’ll come to you!!

[skamgif]

[hermiolne]

moodboard: remus lupin

“one: he’s sitting on my chair. two: he’s wearing my clothes. three: his name’s remus lupin.”

[theliteraryjournals]

I want something else. I’m not even sure what to call it anymore except I know it feels roomy and it’s drenched in sunlight and it’s weightless and I know it’s not cheap. Probably not even real.

Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves  (via theliteraryjournals)

[belamyblaks]

[foxgraves]

no offense but i’m literally starving for affection but when people give it to me i can’t accept it as valid because i’m worried i’ve manipulated their perception of me by only portraying myself a certain way and feeling like this portrayal of myself is an imposter and makes me disingenuous and not deserving of the affection they give me.

[slyherin]

remus john lupin - i was separated from humans to bite, so i bit and scratched myself instead. the villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. (x)