And death shall have no dominion.
Dead man naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan’t crack;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.-Dylan Thomas
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heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey it’s the 24th here in france!!! Here’s my present for the lovely @deadly-kitten-kay for the profound bond discord gift exchange!!! I hope you’ll like it (i tried to put some impressionist vibes on this morning/night kiss)
(via c-kaeru)
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I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.
- Jorge Luis Borges -Credit: Elizabeth Sagan
(via knight-of-the-flowers)
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(Source: closertoblasphemy, via gallifaerie)
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mmc: @faithleh & anonymous(x2) asked: happy!dean
or badass!dean?“It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed that hard.”
(via ultravioletcas)
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Prisoner of Azkaban → Deleted Scenes
Hermione Granger with braided hair, in pyjamas, holding Crookshanks is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.
(via event-inverse)
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This is why I ditched traditional art in the first place
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(Source: fandomlife-universe, via thetimemoves)
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Roads, Not Shrouds - verdant_fire - Sherlock (TV) [Archive of Our Own] →
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 3440
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Notes: a gift fic for @educatedinyellow
Summary: He’s perfectly happy to live out the rest of his life in monastic devotion, feeding John and loving John and provoking John just enough to distract him from what Sherlock did to their kitchen table.
It makes him feel young again, even though this is nothing like London, nothing like the fevered, fanatical loneliness of his youth. Spring here always puts an extra bounce in John’s step; he straightens into parade rest when he sees the lush verdure advancing up over the Downs, as if he’s waiting for marching orders from Persephone. Sherlock wonders if John likes pomegranates. He should know that by now, probably, but it’s never come up. Then again, there are always new things to discover; it never fails to please him, the bottomless paradox of John. Even after all these years, the depths of him are still a beloved mystery.
