#saintflower

[valentydes]

non-text version:

marylily has me in a chokehold rn i can't lie

[mothwingsmayy]

it's criminal how underrated the wlw marauders ships are compared to the mlm ones

[space-girliee]

Marylily in Greece

Make sure to check out @ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper part too!!!

[verastraea]

marylily

© twt

[gardenfa1ry]

Choreographer!James . Makeup artist! Marlene. Music producer! Remus

Manager! Lily . Stylist! Sirius. Singer! Mary

[nerdymessr]

Mary told Lily that she didn't always have to be right to be deserving of her place in their third year right before she squealed and ran to dance to some ABBA song and Lily just sat there reeling from being seen so clearly, completely and utterly in love with Mary and trying desperately not to be.

[ellisamarox]

She’s got, she’s got a way -> Mary

She got, she got away -> Lily

[moonandstarshangoutinbars]

It started in 1982. Though Mary couldn't remember much before that anyway. Every year when the breeze turned cool and leaves became orange and crisp, she'd feel this tug beneath her ribs- a call, a prayer, a warning. Flashes of memories she couldn't recall making nearly split her head in half from pain.

A smirk framed by black locks here, and a blonde maroon clad figure whizzing past there. Scarred hands holding a book here and golden glasses around hazel eyes there.

A girl with freckles like constellations on her face and a halo of copper hair. The only one whose face was always clear as glass in Mary's mind. Every time she picked up a brush her canvas turned into shades of orange and emerald green. Every time she was at the florist she left with a bouquet of lilies and forget-me-nots.

Every Halloween she bundled herself up in her coat and an old red-and-gold scarf and took trains and buses to Godric's Hollow. She didn't know the exact location the first few years- she just followed her instict, the tug between her lungs, almost like a second heart beating alongside her own.

Mary would walk aimlessly through the quaint but lively village until she reached the graveyard and stared at the regal statue of a young man and a woman with a baby. But the woman in the statue wasn't just any other person. Mary knew she was her girl somehow. The one she saw in dreams and paintings and flowers and felt everywhere.

Sometimes, she would see a tall man with caramel curls and a scarred face silently weeping by a joint grave. Mary would stare at him as long as she could without getting caught and tried to shake off the feeling that she knew him, somehow.

The last time Mary saw him was in 1996. She had expected him to be in front of the joint grave again but he'd been kneeling in front of a new headstone, forehead pressed against the marble and speaking something very quietly. She'd approached him slowly, like the man was an animal easy to scare away. When he spotted her, the look on his face was as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Do I know you? Have we ever met?", she had blurted out before she could stop herself and waited for the man to stand up and answer. He only smiled fleetingly- a sad one- and whispered "Maybe in another life, Mary". He took off towards the gate before she could follow and left. She looked at the new grave and read the name on the headstone- Sirius Orion Black.

Mary would keep living in flashes and snippets of memories she couldn't recall and sit for hours in front of her painting of the girl with red hair and green eyes. She would try to remember her life before a certain point and turn up blank. She would keep returning to the graveyard until a new grave joined the rest, next to those of James & Lily Potter and Sirius Black- Remus John Lupin.