#whynxtsing

"!!!"

The woman goes to knee at the other, looking down, the skull tries to look down, oh dear lord, this is one scary lady

Did somebody say dragons?❞ 

Breathes heavily.

can u not

A scoff rumbles at the back of Morrigan’s throat despite how her heart quakes in uncertainty. She is no child. Gone are the days where she felt such a trivial shame in disappointing her mother, in being less than adequate, in acting immature. Now she knows better, now she is not a fool; the horrifying writings in Flemeth’s Grimoire is enough to solidify her suspicions. She is not so blind sighted as to let her mother infect her with such wistful words.

But the truth is there, hidden under layers that are beyond Morrigan’s comprehension, and she simply doesn’t understand. The Grimoire was clear-cut, but this… was not. It makes her feel like a child again, crawling through the webs of her mother’s tests and trials in an attempt to please her, to prove herself.

Ｔｈｅｒｅ＇ｓ  ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ  ｌｅｆｔ  ｔｏ  ｐｒｏｖｅ.

                   ❝I know what you intended for me, mother.                             Do not take me for such a fool.❞

"And I do not."

Everything that had happened, everything that had almost been undone, was his fault and his alone. If he had waited, sought another path, Corypheus would have been naught but another madman shouting at the heavens.