who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

thirty-one / death eater / werewolf "As I cannot be the hero, let me be the monster, and lesson them in fear in place of love." - George R.R. Martin

[olivierassayas]

Jon Bernthal in BABY DRIVER (2017)

[greybacked]

septimaxx:

She unsure how to respond to his offer, so she doesn’t at all. In truth, she doesn’t know what to ask of him at this point, unsure if there really was really anything he could do to change their situation. In contrast, by his next words she can’t help but laugh lightly- a sound she hadn’t made in ages, something that had begun to feel foreign against her lips.

For a moment she feigns offense at his comment, despite knowing full well what exactly he means, “Please, I think you’re the one who couldn’t resist me if you tried,” she responds, folding her arms stubbornly, smirking every so slightly. Her mind, instinctively travels to all the ways she wants to prove him wrong, but for a second she pauses. She thinks it’s this what she misses the most- the easy moments between them. The moments that remind her of the old times where things were much simpler between them.

For all the complexity that plagued their relationship, Septima had always appreciated that their relationship boiled down to a true, genuine connection between the two of them. There was nothing fake or empty between the two of them, but rather the space between them was filled with something deep and utterly unconditional. It was that very care that they had for one another which seemed to simultaneously simplify and complicate their situation, all at once. 

But she stops herself for a reason, reminding herself of exactly why things went wrong for them and her hands fall limp to her side, the determined smirk on her face fading as fast as it had appeared.

There are days when she looks back on their relationship fondly, and other when she looks back on it with nothing but bitterness and regret. She supposes it’s precisely that which makes their relationship so difficult to end or rekindle, altogether. They’ve become apart of each other’s lives for better or for worse, and have to acknowledge that to make positive strides towards progress.

She imagines they would have worked out in another life, but not this world, especially not under these circumstances, so his current suggestion, she felt, was their best option. It was far from perfect or ideal or even a guaranteed fix to their problem, but seemingly the best thing they could come up with.

Perhaps it was a temporary solution, but it was still better than no solution at all.

“I think that trying it is worth a shot, though at this point, anything is better than what we’re currently doing,” the professor replied with a honest shrug, “I think whatever it is, we can make it work…” she trails off as she places a hand on his shoulder, without thinking before quickly realizing she’s probably crossed a line. She retracts her hand and looks away from, but nonetheless, there’s still a genuine hope in her voice. Truth be told, though she’s hopeful, she’s not sure if she believes her own words. If the past was any indication of what the future may hold, she worries their chances of maintaining whatever this was, were grim.

“If anybody asks me about you, I’ll be sure to tell them you just happen to be a fellow arithmancy researcher who wants to help my with my textbook,” she jokes lightly, “Sound believable enough?” she asks, shifting her weight ever so slightly.

Her acceptance in his plan gives him more relief than he was expecting, and he finds his shoulders relaxing a bit with that revelation. This relief though soon turns to something a bit more mischievous in nature when she expresses her doubts in his claim. It was a challenge she’d made before, and one that made it almost physically painful not to be able to accept. He returns her brief playful smirk with a more predatory one of his own, and merlin did he wish he could follow through with the devilish thoughts that were now dancing through his head. The allure of saying to hell with precautions and safety, and just do whatever the damn well he pleased was strong, though not strong enough to ditch the plan entirely. 

They stay like that for a brief moment, caught up in the small flashback from a time that seemed like decades ago. The moment vanishes as quickly as it came however, fading with the fall of her smile. He soon follows suit, thankful she had done it before him, or else he very well may have acted on his deeper urges. Already it was becoming quite clear they were going to have trouble with this whole “let’s just be friends” suggestion of his. Their relationship was initially founded on the physical and taking that off the table now left them in completely new territory.

“It’s worth a shot,” he shrugs his shoulders, unsure how much he really believed his own words. Reattaching the line of communication between the two of them may make it easier on them emotionally in some sense, but he still couldn’t help but shake the risk involved. He didn’t mind taking risks with his own life, and at times even found it exhilarating, but risking her life wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed gambling with.

Her touch soon shakes him from his thoughts, and he can’t help but both love and hate that fact. It was so easy for him to lose himself and the outside world when in her presence, which had both its benefits and downfalls. And at the moment, with the possibility of death hanging over both their heads, it was beginning to feel a bit more the latter than the former. Thankfully her hand does not linger there for long however, but when it’s removed he can’t help but already miss it.

“An arithmancy researcher?” His features twist briefly at the very thought before letting out a chuckle. “I suppose that’s no less believable than straight-laced Professor Vector fuckin’ a werewolf on the regular,” he adds, shooting her a knowing look. “But I’m sure we’ll figure somethin’ better out should the time come.”

He stands there quietly for a moment, slowly coming to the realization that this was probably the time for him to leave again- at least for now. There was a part of him that didn’t want to, the same part of him that never wanted to to begin with, but at least now it didn’t feel quite as permanent.

The question though was how to go about it.

A half dozen scenarios pass through his mind before he finally says to hell with it- at least for this once. Reaching out for her, he gives her arm a soft tug to get closer to him. Once she’s close enough he helps close the remaining space between them, his large arms wrapping around her while his head rests in the crook of her shoulder. It was the most platonic action he could muster given the circumstances, though if he were honest it didn’t really feel all that platonic in the end. 

He holds her there for merlin knows how long, allowing himself to just breathe in and savor her scent. As the comforting aroma envelops him he closes his eyes briefly, his mind clear momentarily of the complications that made this such a stupid act in the first place. There is so much he wished he could say to her then, and so much he probably should have given everything that had transpired. However, all he finds himself able to do is to pull her in a little bit tighter, hoping the action would speak for itself. 

[greybacked]

T H E N  &  N O W :  F E N R I R   I V A R   G R E Y B A C K 

[fhosdfoisdhfodsi-deactivated202]

i_watch_it_for_the_plot.gif

[greybacked]

⚔️

⚔️- A memory about war

When he received the message he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. The strange script was not one he’d recognized, yet the author wrote as though Fenrir should know exactly just who they were, and what their purpose was in contacting him. It wasn’t this element of the anonymous note that caught his attention the most however, but the threat entailed.  

“Meet me at midnight under the roof of the Shrieking Shack should you wish to further your’s and your people’s mantle in this life. Don’t, and you will surely perish with the others.”    

There weren’t many who were bold enough to threaten an entire pack- especially his pack, and perhaps it was this very reason why the alpha chose to follow through with the sender’s request. Yes the idea of bettering his people’s station was appealing, but he highly doubted one individual could ever make that happen. What had been done to his people was systematic, and it would take that same system to change for anything to really be different. 

Regardless, that very night Fenrir found himself apparating outside of the abandoned hovel, the only weapon on him was his wand which remained glued at the ready in his hand. It would not remain there for long however. As he climbed the shack’s creaking steps a burst of bright blue light emitted from inside the open doorway, sending Fenrir’s wand flying into the snow cloaked hills behind him. 

"That is certainly not the way to make a good impression Mr. Greyback...,” a voice calls out from inside the dwellings. Too confused to make a move, Fenrir stands frozen on the steps, curious as to just who the voice belonged too. His answer comes with their next words as the figure steps out into the moonlight, the infamous wizard’s face now in full view. “And trust me, you most definitely want to leave a good impression on me.” 

[tfc2211]

Visit Original Link

[greybacked]

🎈- A memory about a time they were safe and relaxed

@septimaxx

The first couple months into his into his fling with the Hogwarts arthimancy professor were purely physical. They would go a couple days without seeing each other then one of them- first mostly him, then eventually her, would come knocking on the other’s door. This was not a pattern he particularly foresaw, the first night he charmed her was intended to be the last night. But as those nights wore on, she turned into the itch he couldn’t help but scratch- and one he highly enjoyed on top of it. He rationalized their ongoing fling by pointing it out to himself that it had stayed mostly physical. Neither of them had hardly anything in common except for their apparent attraction to the other, so there was little else for them to do. 

But then that all changed a couple months in. 

Surprisingly, this shift would first be caused by him, although completely unintentional. For years as he slowly covered the expanse of his upper torso with tattoo after tattoo, he’d left his back completely untouched. This was because there was a particular piece he’d always dreamt of having there, but neither him nor the tattoo artist at Markus Skarrs’ had the skill level to take on such a feat. The issue of the tattoo wasn’t the design or intricacy of it however, but instead an arithmetic one. 

The design in question was to be a depiction of the solar system, including any comets or large enough celestial bodies that could be included in the artwork. The problem was Fenrir had wanted the the piece to show the real-time whereabouts of everything depicted, to show each planet actually move on their outlined orbital path, and not only that but move with the correct velocity compared to the other planets. The calculations of such a design alone were nearly impossible to imagine. That was until Fenrir remembered just whose bed he’d recently begun to frequent. 

When he first confronted her about the challenge he’d assumed she would be interested in it, though not nearly as excited about it as she was. Within five seconds of asking her, he’d already found himself shirtless as she measured every dimension of his back, excitedly rattling off theory after theory on just how the job could be done. 

The issue of course would be trying to get the scale as close as she could, while still keeping the entirety of the system on his back. This one issue would turn into a week’s worth of Fenrir stopping by her flat every night, only to lie chest down on her bed as she filled up parchment after parchment of possible arithmetic spells to test out. 

These evenings were not nearly as bad as he’d initially thought however, in fact he’d somehow found himself looking forward to them. Each night as she traced hypothetical paths across his back with a dulled measuring compass and washable ink, they often found themselves getting into conversations with one another. Which wasn’t something they’d often done in the past. They started off easy at first, nothing too personal, then almost without effort they began divulging more and more of their lives to one another. It was the weirdest yet most relaxing experience he’d ever had while in someone else’s bed. 

When she’d finally solved the issue, and wrote up a step-by-step process for the tattoo artist, their conversations continued as well as his new found residency in her bedroom. It was an incredibly stupid thing to try to continue. Whatever was going on between them obviously would not last, he knew that, and he suspected she did as well. Despite this, he figured just for now he could at least enjoy the strange but comforting moment they’d both found themselves in- no matter how ill-fated it was. 

[greybacked]

Memories Ask Meme

🌈- A memory about when they first fell in love

🌋- A memory about their first heartbreak

🏠- A memory about their childhood home/where they used to live

📷- A memory that comes with a picture they have

💡- A memory that comes with an object or keepsake they have

🔪- A memory about a dangerous situation

🎈- A memory about a time they were safe and relaxed

📔- A memory from a journal/diary entry

📝- A memory of them getting to know/meeting my muse

🔗- A memory about their proposal/wedding

🐥- A memory about their children (past, present, or future)

👘- A memory associated with an article of clothing they have

⚔️- A memory about war

🌅- A memory associated with a certain location

🏚- A memory about exploration

🛤- A memory about traveling

🌠- A time they wished upon a falling star

🐕-A memory of teamwork

🐺- A memory about being alone

🌟- WILDCARD

❄️Feel Free to add more memory prompts to this!❄️

[septimaxx-blog]

f + s

@greybacked

[catastrophepins]

Werewolf + Tattoos Aesthetic ; requested by anon

[greybacked]

ofvanities:

      Her lips parted in the shape of a faint O at the realisation, but she made no sound. So he didn’t technically need her to brew the thing as part of his payment; then that was something else? Honestly this was already way more confusing than she had expected it to be, but she didn’t regret her choice, and he was the trainer anyway. If there was one thing she had learned after years of quidditch was that some coaches had unorthodox methods. “45 galleons, before every session. Perfect.” She had no idea if that was too much. He could have asked for a hundred, and she would have probably given them to him. 

 “I understand.” But she didn’t. Why the need for the potion if he could train her any time? Then his next words hit her and she realized what he was talking about. Honestly she hadn’t mentioned the obvious, mainly because she wasn’t sure he was going to be offended by it. Now it was staring right to her face though, and there was no escaping the subject. “Excuse me, what? I know you want to train me properly but I value my life a great deal to get killed during my first session. Are you positive this thing is going to work?” She knew how wolfsbane functioned… in theory. “And for the record, this is not me changing my mind, this is be being cautious.” 

Her reaction is what he’d expected to get, but he still can’t help but chuckle as she slowly realizes just what he was getting at here. Her fears are well founded, if someone had approached him with the same deal he’d probably told them to shove off. Though he can’t help but wonder what she was expecting out of him when it came down to it. If she wanted a traditional trainer there were plenty of others that would have been more than happy to give her a few lessons, especially with the large bank account she had tied to her name. She did not come to anyone else though, she came to him. And sure, he could have started out a bit more on the simpler side, but that wouldn’t have been nearly as entertaining. 

“You don’t have to take my offer, kid,” he replies as he leans back into the booth. “You’re the one who came knockin’ on my door with this shit, and here’s what I can offer. Now before you go on more about how unsafe it is and all that pansy bullshit, this is exactly how we train the youngins in my pack, and I ain’t never lost a kid because the wolfsbane didn’t pull through. The way I see it is if you want to know how to fight, then you’re gonna fuckin’ learn. So, we’ll start out with this, that way I see what you got, then we’ll go from there.” 

[library-mermaid-blog]

Borgin & Burkes • Curators of Fine Dark Artifacts Est. 1863 Knockturn Alley, London » o n l i n e

[soundcontinuity]

Visit Original Link

[spidermon]

[fuckyeahmarveltvcast]

@eizagonzalez: Burping competition with this rad dude @jonnybernthal on set. I won clearly. (x)

[greybacked]

septimaxx:

She was probably a hypocrite– begging him for lies and honesty and everything in between all at the same time. Nonetheless, he’s right and she’s knows it– no matter how deeply she craves for empty words and lies to fall from his lips, she knows full well they won’t change a thing. Because lies never do. Maybe if she’s lucky his words could placate her throbbing pain with a different, much sharper kind, but eventually it’ll fade away and she’ll still be left with nothing but aching feelings and a broken heart.

It’s a problem she doesn’t know how to fix- and utterly and entirely unfamiliar sensation, a feeling she refuses to become acquainted with because no matter how hard she tries, Septima Vector was never one to give up. She’s unlike in her father in many ways, but a stark sense of resolve and an never-ending need for resolution was something she no doubt inherited. 

She had always prided herself on being different than him, but she’s begun to envy his world view- just numbers- no feelings, no emotions, no pain, no hurt.

She longs for the days when her most pressing struggle was choosing between lesson plans or completing an all too complex numerology problem, for they were all problems she could solve, all problems she could control. But emotions and dare she say it- love, were different- they followed no rules and bowed down to no master. Emotions were an uncontrollable beast, and of course that was exactly her type.

“Fine..suppose that you’re right and lies aren’t going to fix a damn thing..” she responds, almost bitterly, the sting of admitting defeat harsh in her throat, as she wishes more than anything that she was right, that a few lies spoken aloud could fix everything, “But you really think disappearing again will change anything? Last I checked, time and space have been real effective for us,” she responds, her final words dripping with sarcasm. It’s become a fact, that they cannot remain apart, only further proven by their current interaction, for even when physically seperated, she had failed miserably at keeping him out of her head- everything thought drawn back to him like magnet.

But perhaps that’s where she had gone wrong.

She had done everything in her power to make him disappear from her heart and mind, to pretend like nothing every happened, when perhaps what she needed to do all along was to stare her problems down and face them and if pointing out all the flaws in his suggestion was the only way she could somehow ask him to stay in her life, then so be it. With her back still pressed against the wall, she looks over with him and feels completely powerless, thankful for the shadowy night to shield away the the fear and worry hidden behind her dark eyes.

She wants to say ‘don’t go again’, in a single breath, no louder than a whisper, but knows she would regret it, the moment it left her mouth. Maybe it’s what needs to be said to stop it all, to change the pattern and put an end to an endlessly repeating cycle of pain and uncertainty, but she cannot bring herself to string the words together and speak. Instead she chooses silence, opting to take a step into the sliver of moonlight cast in the alley, gazing at him, wondering if he can read her every thought.

But you really think disappearing again will change anything? Last I checked, time and space have been real effective for us

He wants to throw up his hands in response to her, to give up on whatever they were trying to solve here. The puzzle of complicated emotions that lay before them appeared near impossible to solve, and he was at a lost by just what picture they were trying to get the pieces to form. Leaving again was not an option he particularly favored either, though he saw little else to do. He could not tell her he didn’t feel anything for her, nor did he want to give in to those feelings either. It seemed as though they were at an impossible impasse. 

“Just fuckin’ tell me what you want me to do then, and I’ll do it,” he sighs, unsure of what he was about to get himself into. 

She doesn’t say anything though, just simply looks at him with those eyes that could bring the wolf down to his knees in just one glance. He wonders if she ever fully realized the hold she did have on him, that as much as he would go on about how he had her wrapped around his finger, she had more control over his emotions than even the wolf inside. 

When she steps forward he knows what she’s trying to say, that distance is not what she wants or needs in that moment. And it is not what he wants either. He wished it were different, that he hadn’t missed her like hell in the time they were apart. That is wasn’t their more physical moments he longed for, but instead the moments in between. She understood a part of him that no Death Eater ever could. Where they saw a beast that loved chaos and the loss of control, she saw a man that often struggled to maintain what little control he did have. He missed having someone around that understood him so well, that he could confide in when he needed it. 

It is then when he realizes, that maybe they were looking at this thing the wrong way. Until that point the only options they considered were the two extremes: either stay part from each other permanently, or attempt to rekindle what was left between them. But perhaps there was somewhere in the middle they could at least attempt to try for now. 

He nods his head to let her know he understood what she was trying to communicate. Taking a deep inhale he steps into the same beam of moonlight she was in, his features now clearly visible for her to see. He wonders for a second if he looks different to her, if all the months of one battle after another have shown some kind of ware in his features. She looked almost exactly the same to him, though perhaps a little more tired and melancholy. 

“Alright,” he nods again as his eyes study her’s. “So we don’t avoid each other like the other has the dragon pox, but we don’t start foolin’ around either- as hard as that may be for you,” he shoots her a faint knowing grin. While in the past that would have meant yes, they were definitely going to fool around a little, now there was a bit more sincerity to his tone. “We’d still gotta be careful though, nobody should know how in the hell we know each other and why.” He looks at her cautiously for a second, unsure how the plan sounded to her. 

“Would that be better?” 

[greybacked]

implacablealecto:

Keep it clean. Of course bloody Rodolphus Lestrange would ask that. The man had no idea what it felt to enjoy killing anyone. He was a murderer, of course, but he did it as a chore; ending someone’s life was an inconvenience for him. In Alecto’s eyes, that was even worse. At least the way she did it, death became meaningful, it became beautiful and unique. Rodolphus was never going to understand killing, because he couldn’t understand the art behind it. Even what Fenrir did was better - because he was savage, a pure and perfect expression of nature. 

“That wasn’t very clean, darling. But honestly I would have been so disappointed if it was. That’s not really your style, and you know how much I value how creative you are.” She shoots him a mischievous glance. “In fact, I’m almost jealous. You know sometimes I wish I could be as rough as you are; wake up a beast inside me, following my instincts, forget about the consequences, lose control completely.” She bites down her bottom lip, and her tone suddenly suggests she isn’t only talking about killing anymore. “What do you think? Do you believe I’d make a good monster?”

As he narrows the space between their faces, she smirks, offering a sinful look. Brown eyes surrounded by long black lashes pierce right through him, challenging him, daring him to make a move. He doesn’t, though, but he chooses a clever path; one that she didn’t see coming. 

“Really?”, she rolls her eyes. “I’m telling you you can have anything you want and you want to chat about my betrothed. You’re breaking my heart here, darling. I thought you were more entertaining than that.” However, she cocks an eyebrow once she hears the full question. “No, they don’t know I’m here. They don’t know where I am most of the time. But we do share some things, and we could share even more. Why, are you interested?”

“Well I couldn’t do exactly what he said,” he chuckles, “even he should know by this point that’s just not how this little deal of our’s operates.” Her next words effect him just how she’d intended to. The sweetly naive tone in her voice pulling at something darker inside him. She was beginning to get far too good at pinpointing his trigger points, knowing the exact words to say and how to say them to effect him. There was a delightful mischievousness to her question, which proved fatal when mixed with her achingly sweet tone. Her talk of monsters and lack of control made the beast in him want to show her just exactly what that meant, to wipe that smile off her face and replace it with a gasped moan. 

His knuckles visibly whiten as his grip strengths against the edge of the bar. There was a beautiful freedom in losing control, and allowing himself to do as his nature pleased, but he was not ready to give in to her temptations just yet. If he really was going to finally give into her it would be with both of them begging for it. When he feels he’s got a sense of control once more he loosens his grip and allows himself to get close to her again. “Sweetheart, I think we both know you got a good deal of monster already in you,” he smiles, giving her a knowing look.

 For a second it seems as though she hasn’t picked up on his little insinuation, and he can’t help but feel a tad disappointed over the lost opportunity. But then her expression changes, her attentions growing more intrigued as she works out the reasoning behind his question. 

That a girl. 

Until that point his interactions with Alecto had usually always gone the same, she’d flirt and tease out his more wild nature, and he’d flirt back, but never give them both the satisfaction they craved. The position he was in made anything more than flirtations between them something he did not want to test further. His rank among the Death Eaters was not guaranteed or permanent due to his bloodstatus. He was there simply because he served a purpose, and he knew that if he played around a little too much with Yaxley’s betrothed it could very well put at risk the entire alliance. 

But now things had changed. 

After his time with Yaxley in the Ministry, the possibility was open that would result in not just him getting what he wanted, but both the wix and their betrothed as well. And really, what better way to resolve the tensions between the three of them, then resolving them all at once together? 

“Hmm, I wonder what they’d do if they saw us here together right now...,” he pretends to think for a second before leaning in to whisper in her ear. “Probably the same thing you’d have thought if you saw me and them together in the Ministry a few days ago, as I whispered in their ear just like I’m doing right now to you, tellin’ them how much I wanted to fuck ‘em raw right then and there in the atrium.” His voice is almost a growl as he recalls the wicked thoughts he’d had of her fiance, the same wicked thoughts he was having of her right now.

With a satisfied smirk he leans back to look at her, “Yeah, sharing is a thought.”