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Moodboard suggestion: time-travelling MorMor!

Time Travel: Mormor

"Time travel is nothing like it is in science fiction. There are no swirling lights or tunnels, just a pain like you're being squeezed through something too small for your body."

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“Some men are born to plow fields, some live to be great physicians, others to be great kings. Me, I was born to serve you.”

Merthur Aesthetic for anon.

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Cucculelli Shaheen “Alchemy & Mysticism” Fall 2017 Ready-to-Wear Collection

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i be damned.

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Natalie Portman by Peter Lindbergh

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Bisexual Regina Mills <3

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"A Prayer for a Fallen Soldier”

I saw a soldier kneeling down, for this was the first quiet place he had found. He had traveled through jungles, rivers and mud He’d tasted sweat and shed his blood.

He folded his hands and looked to the sky I saw his tears, as they welled in his eyes. He spoke to God, and this is what he said “God Bless my men, who now lie dead;

I know not what You have in mind, but when You judge them, please be kind when they come before You, they will be poorly dressed but they'll walk proudly, for they have done their best.

Their boots will be muddy and their clothes all torn but these clothes they have so proudly worn. Their hearts will be still and cold inside, for they have fought their best and did so with pride.

So please take care of them as they pass Your way the price of freedom they've already paid.”

Poem by Unknown.

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“For the Fallen”

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children, England mourns for her dead across the sea. Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit, Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres. There is music in the midst of desolation And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young, Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow. They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted, They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again; They sit no more at familiar tables of home; They have no lot in our labour of the day-time; They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound, Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight, To the innermost heart of their own land they are known As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust, Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain, As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness, To the end, to the end, they remain.

Poem by Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943), published in The Times newspaper on 21 September 1914.

Source: For the Fallen

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Aesthetic Blairon

Dificil, muy dificil xd

#harrypotter #ronweasley #ronaldweasley #blaisezabini #blairon #jkrowling https://www.instagram.com/p/BsoN8lqAciZ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1gg4rl0p8067c

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True evil is, above all things, seductive

~my edits~

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