22 y/o. GMT. ENTJ.
Slytherdor. Chaotic Good.

April Word Count: 2257

We live and breathe words. Reading your words, what you wrote, how you were lonely sometimes and afraid, but always brave; the way you saw the world, its colors and textures and sounds, I felt the way you thought, hoped, felt, dreamt.




They call him the rebeller, even though it was her that first spat in the face of Adam and fell from the Garden of Eden. Or was it? Or did they scream in unison, anguished at the dictatorship of the divine narrative, words like barbed wires wrought to scour wounds that flamed against their once-pristine skin.

It was her cry against her father that damned her with wings that freed her from the prison of Eden, a siren song that dragged Lucifer from the Heavens where she pressed him against her cruel lips and from their unholy union sent forth Azazel, glorious serpent of her revenge that lured sweet rib-bound Eve into the temptation that she had long grasped with open eyes and soiled soul.

She dusts herself with the sparks of the Morningstar and sets the constellations alight with Nephilim that whirl across it, cackling, waltzing like the decadent damned, curling their fingers cracked with sin to mankind. Her sooty hair trails across the universe, singularities stretched thin and tripping the angels that fly to her at the bidding of abandoned Adam.

She stretches across a bed of skulls washed in from the great floods as Lucifer spins around her an adoration - an underworld aching with the worship previously denied to her, warps scripture so it shies away from speaking of her but to merely ensure her name, alone, and nothing else, is known. He unbinds towers from the Kingdom of Heaven, gathers armies of demons and humanity alike in her name - one day they will march, at the end of creation, their next and final rebellion, marching a warpath to heavens build on the back of a fallible god. Then, again, they will reign in an endless empire of anarchy - each soul a sovereign of its own.


“It may be that I’m older, and it may be that social media is everywhere now. I don’t think I was really famous until last year and I felt like no one paid much attention to what I was doing. That was good. But Les Mis was an international hit, and that changed things. Before, I was a little more anonymous.”

Snape | Luna | Lord | Malfoy | Potter | Hermione | Weasley | Sirius


if the sky comes falling down, for you,
there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do

❀ about me ❀


Name: Felicia

Birthday: April 5th

Zodiac: Aries

Single or Taken: Define taken

Height: 5’6” (1.66m)

Eye color: Blue

Middle name: Viola

Favorite color: pastell colours, every shade of blue

Lucky number: 5


Hogwarts house: Slytherdor (Slytherin/Gryffindor) 

Favorite fictional character:  Eh, I really don’t know? Lagertha (Vikings) & Blair Waldorf (Gossip Girl) atm.

Favorite television show: GoT, Hannibal, Gossip Girl, Vikings & Mad Men

Favorite season:  Spring turning to summer

Describe yourself in a few words:  Vivacious, Opinionated, Loyal, Judgmental, Honest

Future children’s names: Violet and Winslow

Meaning of your name: happy, lucky

Ultimate otp:  Myself as Empress of the world

What do you plan to/do for a living:  To make a change and look fabulous while doing it.

Starbucks order: Skinny cappuccino


Introvert or extrovert: Both in equal dosage

Dawn or dusk: Dusk

Righty or lefty: Righty

Coffee or tea: Coffee

Rain or shine: Depends on mood 

Reading or writing: Reading

"Personally, I’d like as many children as I can pop out, I reckon. You come from a happy family; you want to create a happy family. And in the same breath, I’d like to be on stage at England’s National Theatre, doing Miller and Chekhov. Give me a Sam Mendes/Tennessee Williams combination—that would be glorious. And to be making some Oscar-worthy movies with Scorsese. I’m always looking for the hard road. That way, you remain interested and interesting. Hopefully.”


I was afraid mother —by the icy Lancaster blood running in his veins, by stories I heard about his line, by cold fingers and dark eyes tormenting me.
  But his palms are warm against my back and his voice, gentle in my ears. He is not distant. Just cautious. Mother, he is a good husband.

codes by