the morrígan ✶ phantom queen ✶ goddess of war, victory and death

oozey mess
YOU ARE THE REASON

blake kathryn

tannertan36
we're not kids anymore.

@theartofmadeline
Today's Document
Jules of Nature
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
RMH

pixel skylines
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Origami Around
Mike Driver
One Nice Bug Per Day

Kaledo Art

titsay
KIROKAZE

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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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@linabaylor
the morrígan ✶ phantom queen ✶ goddess of war, victory and death
books read in 2020 » gallagher girls by ally carter
I don’t understand hate. I’ve seen its power. I’ve known its wrath. I’ve even felt it coursing through my veins, pushing me on. But I don’t know where it comes from or why it lasts, how it can take hold in some people and grow.
The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Everyone is afraid of something. We fear things because we value them. We fear losing people because we love them. We fear dying because we value being alive. Don’t wish you didn’t fear anything. All that would mean is that you didn’t feel anything.
female awesome meme: [1/5] absolute badasses ➝ Ginny Weasley
“I’m three years older than you were when you fought You-Know-Who over the Philosopher’s Stone, and it’s because of me Malfoy’s stuck back in Umbridge’s office with giant flying bogeys attacking him!”
@halfbloodsnet capture-the-flags round 1 :
favourite character : annabeth chase
But she wondered why beautiful things had to be wrapped up with evil history. Or was it the other way around? Maybe the evil history made it necessary to build beautiful things, to mask the darker aspects.
100 days of character posters (67/100)
↳ My mum always said things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. If not always in the way we expect.
even strength has to bow down to wisdom sometimes
lexi’s favs in 2019 ↴
The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer
He was the fantasy of every girl in the country. He was so far out of realm, her world, that she should have stopped thinking about him the second the door had closed. Should stop thinking about him immediately. Should never think about him again, except maybe as a client–and her prince. And yet, the memory of his fingers against her skin refused to fade.
What was your favorite book of the year?
@booksociety‘s Retelling event: The Bear and the Nightingale
I would walk into the jaws of hell itself, if it were a path of my own choosing. I would rather die tomorrow in the forest than live a hundred years of the life appointed me.
@witchsweekly gift for @thegirlwhohid
@witchsweekly secret santa -> gift for @linabaylor 🎄❄️
Merry Christmas @persephonerights <3
Here is your @gotsecretsanta gift. I hope you like it!
It was not in her plan to spend three hours in the tight cab of her follow grad student’s truck. She should be on the beach, soaking up the sun. She should be walking through her family’s famed gardens, smelling the sweet flowers. But no. Instead of warmth and sun she was surrounded by dark and damp. Mostly due to the to the snowball that greeted her when stepped out of the truck.
“Oh no,” a shocked voice said, “You’re not Robb.”
“No,” Margaery said while wiping the cold snow off her, “Not even close.”
A red head with her hands drawn up to her mouth stood in front of Margaery and for moment words left her. The women was…she was tall and slender with a regal looking face and cheeks flushed from the cold. But most of all she was gorgeous and Margaery was breathless.
“Sansa,” Margaery blinked at Robb’s voice and remembered where she was. The Stark family home and the woman had to be Robb’s sister. Sansa was looking between Robb and Margaery and mouthing I’m sorry. Margaery had all but a few seconds to process everything, the snowball, the pretty red head, Robb’s disbelief before the front door of the Stark home flew open and chaos descended.
A tiny teen-aged girl launch herself at Robb and Margaery wasn’t sure if the girl meant to hug him or tackle him. Robb let out a small sound and then wrapped his arms the girl, mostly likely Arya, and squeezed. A small child ran up and grabbed hold of Robb’s legs. Robb let go of Arya and reached down to ruffle the boy’s, Margaery guessed Rickon’s, hair. Another older boy was moving his wheelchair to their growing group and flashed a blinding smile. Two men around Robb and Marg’s age stumbled behind, laughing.
And then finally the door closed as what could only be the Stark’s parent stepped out and smiled at the scene in front of them. A warmth flooded Margaery’s heart and for the first time that day she was grateful for the snowstorm that canceled her flight home. Maybe this is what Christmas should be, she thought. Sansa moved to join the mass of reunion hugs and caught Margaery’s eyes. The red head smiled softly and Margaery couldn’t help but smile back. Yes, she thought let it snow.
Come on, cheer up, it’s nearly Christmas! The most wonderful time of the year!
DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY.
“ you see, i, unlike you,
have been made a prefect,
which means that i, unlike you,
have the power to hand out punishments. ”
happy birthday, draco! (june 5th, 1980)
He deserved this darkness, and once the invisible boundary shattered and the waiting thing pounced, infiltrating and filling him … … he’d have earned it.
@fandomaestheticnet underrated event » red winter
She stopped, a half-dozen paces still separating them. The frantic thudding of her heart filled her ears as she met his vacant crimson stare. “Don’t forget me, Shiro,” she said hoarsely. “You’re not allowed to forget me.” He blinked slowly and something shifted in his gaze. His lips curved in his familiar crooked smile. “You’ll forget me someday, little miko.” His voice was even hoarser than hers, rough and coated in a hint of an animal growl. “I’ll never forget you,” she told him. “I’ll remember you to my last day.” “Do you promise?” Her heart gave an odd little flutter. “Yes, I promise.”