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James Potter my beloved

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the potters

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'you never read anymore, you used to love reading' and i have 200 safari tabs open. it never stopped it just got weird

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Yesterday I drew this for Sirius birthday (posting it here one day late) Happy birthday my beautiful outcast!

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Happy Halloween 🐺⭐️

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don't seem to get enough of drawing them lmao

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October 31st, 1981.

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Late nights in the common room

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Halloween 🖤 for a dtiys on insta

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On Losing James Potter

And on feeling his absence like an amputated limb - By Sirius Black.

("Stag", by Edwin Henry Landseer)

Nowadays, one single thought of James is a death sentence. Every stray memory of the way his glasses used to sit a little crookedly on his tanned face, every deconstructed image of his toothy smile feels like what Sirius thinks being shot through the head must be like.

At the slightest mention of his name, Sirius' brain starts to stutter, stumble, trip.

It shakes around his cranium aimlessly, trying to regain a semblance of balance after taking the hit. The sound echoes in his eardrums with a murderous roar and it defeans anything around him.

Once, a fleeting thought of James would've brought Sirius comfort on the darkest of nights.

Now, it's mutilation.

Since Sirius watched James die,

(No, he was already DEAD, you were late!)

his eyes have not registered any other image. In fact, neither Lily's corpse nor Harry's desperate crying frown come back to haunt him during day and night alike, because Sirius simply didn't see them.

It's just James

On the wooden pavement

With his brown eyes wide open,

And a pool of drying blood around him that sticks underneath Black boots,

And a hole underneath his sternum that was once leaking but not anymore,

And no glasses on his face.

There are no glasses on his face, no glasses... where are the glasses?

... And a pair of round spectacles with a shattered lense a couple of feet away from him.

Sirius had picked them up with shaking fingers and gently placed them on his unusally pale face.

For the first time, those damned glasses had seemed to sit straight on James' nose, maybe because of how his head leaned limply to the side.

Sirius had then kneeled in front of him, in death just like he would've in life, and gently placed James' head on his own lap.

He'd caressed his cold skin once, twice, before the tears had come to blur his sight.

Sirius had sobbed, retched, gasped for breath, and choked on it when he couldn’t get any air inside his lungs. Screamed into the blood-soaked pavement.

Sirius had dried the teardrops that had fallen on James' face - most beloved face - with the backs of his hands, as the palms were too dirty and bloodied.

He'd tried to fix the glasses again, then tucked a couple of stray locks of hair behind his ears.

Sirius had placed a trembling kiss on James' forehead, and that had been it.

Afterward, he hasn't been able to see anything at all.

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My loves, I’m back with JILY grease AU!

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My loves

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King by Florence + The Machine

Art by Edmund Blair Leighton

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first year 🌱

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My favorite Conan song with my 2 favorite boys 😤🙏 @conangray-marauders-fest

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read it platonically read it romantically idc, just appreciate our beautiful boys <3

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last one standing

remus + sirius

death means nothing at all i have only slipped into the other room everything remains exactly as it was life means all that it has ever meant I am but waiting for you...somewhere very near, just round the corner. all is well.

Text by Henry Scott Holland, Illustrations by me (Procreate)