Don’t love a boy who grew up by an airport. He’s used to seeing people come and go. It’s only a matter of time before he expects you to leave too.
Don’t love a boy who loves many things, keeps them in boxes to gather dust and time, takes them out into the sun years later to reminisce over, then tucks them back in the dark but not quite in the same way that your mother used to tuck you into bed after a fable or two.
Don’t love a boy who tells you he loves you only with his eyes, while his mouth leaves an ash trail all over the map of you. Because no matter how far back you retrace your steps, I swear you will never find yourself again.
Don’t love a boy who lives in a perpetual 2 in the morning if you don’t expect to dream only in darkness.
Don’t love a boy who was born when the leaves began to turn gold if you don’t believe that winter will come.
My featherbed is deep and soft, and there I’ll lay you down, I’ll dress you all in yellow silk, and on your head a crown. For you shall be my lady love, and I shall be your lord. I’ll always keep you warm and safe, and guard you with my sword.
And how she smiled and how she laughed, the maiden of the tree. She spun away and said to him, no featherbed for me. I’ll wear a gown of golden leaves, and bind my hair with grass, But you can be my forest love, and me your forest lass.
Imam Hussain (as)’s Last Sermon - To Umayyad Army in Karbala
On the 10th of #Moharram in 61 A.H, Imam Hussain (as) admonished the army of Banu Umayyad in Karbala by giving an eloquent Sermon.
“Prophet (saws) raised me up by feeding the Divine Prophecies. I am the son of Prophet (saws) and my mother is ‘Batool’ (as). I have been created as infallible Imam. I have the privilege of being the son of Amir-ul- Momaneen, Ali (as). I am the son of that who holds the key to the future events and sustenance of the whole universe. Hassan (as) has brought me up to his customs. I am the Divine authority, recognise me prior to declaring war against me. Be aware! You will close all the doors of forgiveness by killing me. You are doing this for the attraction of your leader’s promised rewards, but if you ask me, I can bless you thousands’ time more than that. (I know) collecting filth is in your genes. You are unable to comprehend and (debate with doubts) that we regularly travel through the milky ways. (Be aware) Stars are nothing else but aftermath of footprints. North pole finds its direction from us (as). Ours destination is in ‘Qabah Quosaan’ (The highest point in the heavens); and ‘Bait-ul-Mamoor’ (the highest point in skies where Divine Throne is located) is our residence. ‘Bismilla’ refers to our beginning and ‘Yakhamah’ concludes with our (attributes). ‘Innamah’ describes our Divinity and Purity, ‘Allif-lam’ is on our introduction, ‘WalAsr’ is about our glandular status, The Verse of ‘Feel’ is the narration of our past, ‘Walfaj’ has borrowed colours from us, ‘Filqurbah’ (The verse which says that it is compulsory to love Ahlulbayt a.s) is the means to seek nearness to us, the verse of ‘Dahr’ is on our generosity, ‘MinYashra’ defines our rights, ‘Al-Taha’ is about our way of life, the Verse of ‘Muzimmil’ is our outfit, the verse of ‘AlQadr’ authenticate our (Divine) rights, it is in our jurisdiction to change the direction of ‘Qabateen’ (Two directions for offering prayers) we attend to the needs of others in ‘Rukku’ of prayers. Our traditions became the principles of religion; we are the ‘Ibrahim’. However, those who could not gain guidance from 63 years of preaching will not beinfluenced by my words. You are blinded by the ‘worthless’ rewards and are inclined to disgrace Holy Prophet’s family (asws)-which would result in your eternal punishment.
Another day Ardyn spent within the quiet confines of the antechamber of his apartments within the Citadel. His tablet ensconced in his lap. A favored garish colored cocktail sat upon the table beside him. It was quiet and the attendants left him in peace and tranquility.
Broken now only by the soft click of the large doors leading into his suited. His gaze left the trivial article he thumbed through no longer able to hold his attention. Greeted instead by something far more interesting: the sight of Noctis dressed down with his favorite food upon a plate. “Oh Noct.” Words coming out to a purr.
His husband gave him one of his charming smiles that brightened up the entirety of his face. The plate held up in offering. How could the immortal resist such temptations when placed before him? Ardyn was a man of his vices. Noctis was but the greatest of them that he would fall to again and again.
“Just found it in the kitchens. Thought you might like it.” And still despite all the years they had been together Noctis still came to him with that slightly awkward charm of his endearing as it was.
He was beckoned over with the slow crooking of two fingers and a lascivious smirk upon Ardyn’s features. A swipe of the icing upon his finger that traced a path down the side of Noctis’ neck. “Hmm. I can think of other things I would wish to devour.” His lips lingered over the mess he had made of his husband before his tongue darted out to lap it from pale flesh. A hand to reach and give a soft squeeze to Noctis’ shapely ass. The little gasp he received in turn was a gift within itself.
An arm came about his lover’s waist pulling Noctis carefully in his lap where the tablet occupied no longer. Finally able to give his considerate lover a proper kiss. Ardyn could think of no two things that brought him such contentment now.
do you have a game of thrones character, oc, or verse ? if so, please reblog
this post with your character(s) name in the tags, if you are an oc
please specify that, and if you only have a verse be sure to specify
that as well. please reblog once per blog.
reblog and tag appropriately and you will be added to this list.
THE KING IS DEAD– and so a new war begins. twenty years have passed since robert’s rebellion. twenty years since the dragonn prince set aside his dornish lady to marry the wolf maid. elia martell and her children returned to dorne, the two targaryen babes now bastards in the eyes of lords and ladies. now they are ready to return to king’s landing to take back what was stolen from them. rhaegar’s heir, his youngest son, sits upon the iron throne, the threat of another dance of dragons already hanging over his reign like a great shadow. now is the time for the great houses to choose who they will support. to choose to support the dornish dragons or the northern dragon and pray that the realm is not burnt away in the process.
members must post a bio for their muse with their allegiances and a bit about them
Dimensions: H. 19 in. (48.3 cm) W. 17 in. (43.2 cm)
Credit Line: Louis E. and Theresa S. Seley Purchase Fund for Islamic Art and Rogers Fund, 2003
Accession Number: 2003.241
The hull of this sailing ship comprises the names of the Seven Sleepers and their dog. The tale of the Seven Sleepers, found in pre-Islamic Christian sources, concerns a group of men who sleep for centuries within a cave, protected by God from religious persecution. Both hadith (sayings of the Prophet), and tafsir (commentaries on the Qur'an) suggest that these verses from the Qur'an have protective qualities.
Flanked by two other galleons on the horizon, this carefully drawn
imperial calligraphic galleon sits on a row of waves containing
aphorisms. The imperial galleon with its wind-filled sails is an example
of the sophistication of the Ottoman calligraphic tradition. The
distinctive Ottoman imperial insignia (tughra), located on the stern of
the square galley, dedicates the drawing to Sultan Mustafa bin Sultan
Ahmed III (r. 1757–74) (38.149.1). The prow, deck, hull, and stern of
the galleon are a calligram (an image made out of calligraphic phrases).
It contains the names of the seven sleepers of Ephesus and their dog
Qitmir (35.64.3). The standard on the stern of the boat contains the
apotropaic Throne verse (2:255) from the Qur'an. The combination of
Qur'anic verse and the names of prophets, saints, and heroes found in
the Qur'an endows this calligram with amuletic, auspicious, and
talismanic powers. In the sky, like a sun disk, the dated signature of
the calligrapher reads: Abdu'l Qadir al-Hisari in Aksehir in A.H. 1180 /
1766 A.D. The frame is composed of Ottoman Turkish poetry venerating
the Prophet Muhammad.
CHAOS ISN’T A PIT, CHAOS IS A LADDER. MANY WHO TRY TO CLIMB IT, FAIL. AND NEVER GET TO TRY AGAIN. THE FALL BREAKS THEM. AND SOME, GIVEN A CHANCE TO CLIMB, BUT THEY REFUSE THEY CLING TO THE REALM OR THE GODS OR LOVE ILLUSIONS.
THE SEVEN KINGDOMS OF WESTEROS. THE FIGHT FOR THE IRON THRONE. THE GOOD AND THE EVIL. FIRE AND ICE. CLASH OF FAMILIES. WAR AND BLOOD. THE QUEST FOR THE IRON THRONE IS PAVED ON THE DEATH OF MANY. GOOD PEOPLE STILL EXIST, THEY JUST HIDE AMONG THE SHADOWS OF FIRE AND BLOOD. ALL THE FAMILIES, THE LANNISTERS, THE STARKS, THE TYRELLS, THE GREYJOYS, THE BOLTONS, THE TARGARYENS, THE ARRYNS, THE FREYS, THE MORMONTS, THE MARTELLS. THEY ALL FIGHT TO SURVIVE AGAINST THE GAME OF THRONES.
RULES FOR THE VERSE:
stay as active as possible. maybe once a week would be cool, because i understand we all have busy schedules.
follow the tags; gv. chaos is a ladder + chaos is a ladder ooc
this verse will contain every kind of trigger more than likely. mature themes such as sex, violence and death. lots and lots of death, c’mon lbr.
please post a bio after you are accepted. it doesn’t have to be a lengthy one. it just has to explain your character thoroughly. family name, history, etc.
no duplicated face claims, please, unless i okay the twinning. which there will not be more than one or two of, mind you.
“Sometimes while watching Voltron, I think of how Shiro and Pidge’s big-brother-little-sister-ish relationship would remind me of Jon Snow and Arya Stark from A Song of Ice and Fire, and so this came to be. Instead of Direwolves they have dire… lions. Shiro does not have a Scar or the tuft of white hair or the false arm yet, I figured that just as Jon got his facial scars and burnt hand at castle black, Shiro in Game of Thrones verse would receive his injuries/trauma after leaving Winterfell.” -my friend’s description
It’s not his fault he has such a vibrant personality – he’s literally just made like that, complete with a winning smile and golden aura. Not that anyone would take any notice of it. They are gods, after all.
Arek Jagger spent the majority of his life in the north. Only a few times had he ever traveled south, and those trips were always a short duration. His father had spoken of bad things happening to Jagger men who dared leave Winterfell for long. His father, for example, had been burned alive by the Stannicks when Arin Jagger was called for peace and reaffirm a pledge made to the crown.
In fact, it had been his mother that advised him against going to Highgarden. While much safer than where Arin had gone, it made Arek uneasy to be farther away from the cold and snow. There was much to be said for being in familiar territory.
As he approached the kingdom, he couldn’t help but feel his stomach turn. Originally he had been promised to the second-born of the McKormic house. That all changed when their eldest was rejected for a marriage to the Stannick house in denounced a family of bastards. Whether that was the case or not, the McKormics still had managed to rise from the ashes back to its former glory in the days of his great grandfather’s time. Arek’s original promised bachelorette had reportedly fled for Essos to lead a horde of dothraki.
No, it was not what anyone from either house had originally been expecting, but they would all make the best of it. They had to, anyway. For the sake of the future and furthering house lines.