dreamofwar-blog

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                     You could try and take us                                          But we’re the gladiators                          Everyone a rager                                   But secretly they’re saviors

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Morgana in every episode:

3x13  The Coming of Arthur ll

Morgana: “Yes, magic made me who I am, but so did you, Uther Pendragon!”

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Morgana in every episode:

4x01  The Darkest Hour I

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Morgana in every episode:

4x02  The Darkest Hour ll

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Morgana in every episode:

4x03  The Wicked Day

Morgana: “Uther’s dead, isn’t he?” Agravaine: “How did you know?” Morgana: “I felt it. I felt his pain.”

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CHARACTER AESTHETICS

Morgana Pendragon 

“ I don’t want to be brave. I just want to be myself. I don’t want to be alone anymore. “

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The ship, it swayed, heave ho, heave ho, On the dark and stormy blue, And I held tight to the Captain’s might As he pulled up his trews. “You haven’t slept,” heave ho, he said, “In many suns and moons.” “Oh, I will sleep when we reach shore,” “And pray we get there soon.” He said, “Now hush love, here’s your gown.” “There’s the bed, lantern’s down.” But I don’t want to go to sleep; in all my dreams, I drown. The Captain howled “Heave ho, heave ho” And tied me up with sheets “A storm is brewing in the South” “It’s time to go to sleep” His berth, it rocks, heave ho, heave ho The ocean gnashed and moaned Like Jona will be swallowed whole And spat back teeth and bones He said, “Now hush love, here’s your gown.” “There’s the bed, lantern’s down.” “But I don’t want to go to sleep; in all my dreams, I drown.” “Captain! Captain! I will do your chores I will warm your cot at night And mop your cabin floors Scold me, hold me I’ll be yours to keep The only thing I beg of you Don’t make me go to sleep” The sky it flashed, heave ho, heave ho, His pillow toed to the brink. The curtains ran between my legs as we began to sink. I closed my eyes, heave ho, heave ho, As the ship was rent and fell. Eddies in the water headed to the mouth of Hell “Hush now, hush love, here’s your gown.” “There’s the bed, lantern’s down.” “I’m begging you please wake me up In all my dreams I….”

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The only thing I beg of you, Don’t make me go to sleep…

The Devil’s Carnival (via icyandthefrostbites)

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                                       He said: Now hush, love                                             Here’s your gown                                              There’s the bed                                                Lanterns down                                                             But I don’t want to go to sleep                                                               In all my dreams I ᴅʀᴏᴡɴ.

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favorite female characters // morgana pendragon

sometimes you’ve got to do what you think is right, and damn the consequences.

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I will strive to listen to you more and quarrel with you less. You’ve been a blessing to me, Morgana. You are the daughter I never had. Your counsel is invaluable, as is your friendship and your love. Without you, I cannot hope to be the king this land deserves.

[dreamofwar-blog]

Modern day insults were strange, only in the fact that they could also be used as compliments. Orla was absolutely insistent that being called a bitch was a good thing because it meant you were stirring up trouble and that men found you intimidating. Gwenllian rather liked stirring up trouble for men. “Bitch is a word you use to replace that which many have called me for a long time, a witch! An abomination. A terrifying creature, a woman who speaks her mind! h, how hated a species we are, Knightling. Women with brains, women with individual thoughts, women who take control! A fearsome and monstrous thing is the woman who will not allow herself to be dominated into silence. I will be as loud as I desire.” 

❝ You’re really campaigning for ‘Bitch of the Year’ aren’t you? ❞

BUFFY MEME | @tccnagedirtbag | ACCEPTING

Gwenllian was campaigning for nothing except freedom from oppression. She tipped her head at Ronan and raised an eyebrow. “I am campaigning for nothing, Young Knight. Do not throw disgrace on me because you dislike my truthfulness. Or because I am so used to nothing beyond the sound of my own voice. If I am loud it is because they demanded silence, if I am rude it is because they demanded niceness. Something you well know, Knightling. Do not forget that I am a mirror and that which you hate about me is a mere reflection.” 

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Gwen recalled hospitality well, she remembered entertaining everybody from nobles to pilgrims in the halls of her home at Cenarth. No-one would have doubted that there would be a warm fire, a hot meal and a place to sleep if they needed it. But that was a long time ago. Those self-same people she would have given hospitality to had all forsaken her when she needed them. She could only hope these witches and knights and their king would not do the same. She set the kettle boiling on the stove, marvelling at how little advancement there had been in regards to heating water. Metal pot over fire. Six hundred years and they continued with the old ways. She banged about the kitchen, seeking cups and spoons and tea leaves, then she banged those down on the side too, singing joyfully but nonsensically as she went. It was his question that made her turn and point her spoon at him accusingly, not because she disliked talking about her father but because the resemblance he bore was to Richard Gansey III was astounding. “Like you, Little King. A leader. A King. A kind and fair ruler who wanted to free his people from the tyranny and oppression of the English dogs!” Here, she spat on the floor. “He loved his people and they loved him, fought for him, betrayed him,” her voice turned to a hiss and the spoon was waved in his direction again. “Beware, Little King, betrayal, betrayal, betrayal. It doesn’t come from your enemies.” Suddenly, she pitched her voice from the low murmur it had been to a wild cackle. “And I might not be there to stab your poet this time!” She screeched in time with the kettle as it signalled the water hitting its boiling point. 

The hospitatlity was rather promising. It was what normal people do, isn’t it? Although the modern times started blurring the old ways, it’s still quite close to instinct to offer a visitor something to eat or drink. And seeing Gwenllian manifesting such a normal behaviour only gave Gansey high hopes. The last time he subjected his palate to 300 Fox Way’s tea was rather interesting, and he wasn’t certain if it was wise to even let a reality-challenged witch do the honours of making him something consumable, but curse his polite self, that despite the little jaw clench, he just had to say, “Tea would be lovely.” The curtsy was definitely over the top, but by playing along her quirks, he was convincing himself there’s a way out of her tangled thoughts one day. Conversations over tea should be a good way to form a bit of rapport, and he’ll take his every chance to gather answers - not just for his search, but maybe to help Gwen regain her old self as well. “I’m prepared to whatever answer you can give me. I guess it’s just up to me what do with what you say to me.” He sighed and thought he’d start with something easy. “Your father, what’s he like?”