Life's Nerd @lifes-nerd - Tumblr Blog

darlingod

but not all

drewsharp-blog

The four horsemen of the apocalypse

lullabyknell

This is an amazing idea and gifset. I love it.

But I’d also reorder it slightly.

War, yes, War suits Gryffindor well. Fighting and dying for beliefs; fighting and dying for nothing; drafted into bloodshed and fire by bravery or chivalry or neither. Some take joy in this; some are burdened beyond repair. There was a cause, somewhere; there was good, somewhere; there was a reason for all this, somewhere. Oh, you’d have to be brave to live through this. Red and gold. Gold like armor and glory; red like blood and reality.

But Famine and Hufflepuff? No. Famine is Ravenclaw, ever-hungry for knowledge, constantly starving for more and more and more, almost feral for fulfillment. Where is the wisdom in the world? The truth? Nothing is true; nothing is enough; all there is to devour is worthless scraps. Blue and bronze. Bronze like a set of scales tipping and found wanting; blue like the infinite that never satisfies… never gives the answers.

Thus Pestilence is not Ravenclaw. Pestilence is Slytherin, sick with clever plans and cunning potential and corrupting desire. Ambition spreads like a sickness, a plague of greed and an illness to the soul. Maybe some might call it cruel, but here among friends it’s simple cunning at work. Green and silver. Silver like the sheen of glazed eyes; green like the complexion of infection.

And so Death is not Slytherin. Death is Hufflepuff. It is a hard work; it is a work that is never done. But someone must do it, and do it fairly - do it justly - do it well… perhaps even kindly. Everyone is equal here - in the end - a bunch of duffers. Said Hufflepuff, “I’ll teach the lot… And treat them just the same.” Yellow and black. Black like loss of sight as the air leaves your lungs; yellow like the flowers that’ll grow over your grave.

lifes-nerd

OML😍

aarcherons

mare barrow + maven calore ♥ red queen,, shes in love with the person he never truly was.

saracensmatt

“The one who truly lost the most by the death of Le Petit Roi was his grieving young wife. Her affection for Francis was deep and sincere. He had been her constant companion for more than a decade, and ever afterwards, though she was to be married twice more, she would always think fondly of Francis as the

one great love of her life and her one true husband.”

- In My End Is My Beginning: A Life of Mary Queen of Scots by James A. Mackay