Aubry 📚🕯️

@msaubry.bsky.social

133 Followers 116 Following

I read books, teach preschool, and twerk in my kitchen ✌️

A dark fantasy elf woman stands in an eerie, mist-shrouded forest. She has glowing red eyes, elongated ears, and pale skin marked with arcane runes in black and crimson ink. Her long black hair cascades in waves over her shoulders, partially obscuring her elaborate, form-fitting black armor with thorn-like detailing. The armor reveals parts of her arms and thigh, which are also etched with runic symbols. Behind her, a wrought-iron gate fades into the mist, framed by twisted trees and ghostly roses. Her expression is intense—silent, unyielding, and dangerous.
Things bookworms are upset about: sequels coming out a different size to first book, damaged book mail, how they can’t read through their TBR pile before they die, that time the Library of Alexandria got burned down
A photorealistic portrait of a young woman dressed in elaborate Victorian-style clothing. She has striking pale skin, deep amber eyes with smoky, dramatic eye makeup, and rich auburn hair styled in a voluminous, elegant updo. Her expression is serious and intense. She wears a fitted brown and black corset dress with ruffled sleeves and a high black lace collar. An ornate pendant featuring a red gem hangs at her throat. The background is a dark, neutral tone, keeping the focus entirely on her.
White text on a navy blue background reads: He lies captured beneath my pressing hands, looking at me as though I am a knot to be unpicked, as though the answer to countless secrets is written over my skin.
Black type on a pale pink background reads: some strange alchemy took a part of me and transmuted it here. I am a girl. I am ink and paper.
White words on a baby background read: At last he fastens the final button and rests his hand, flat, over the nape of my neck. I step away from him. “Thank you.” The words are half-stuck in my throat. He walks forward briskly, forcing me to catch up. “The library is this way.” As I follow him down the stairs, my hand drifts up to curl over the back of my neck. I press down on the memory of his touch on my skin.
White text on a navy blue background read: Love and pain. Truth and lies. Light and dark. Fate and choice. None of them were adversaries; none of them could exist without the other. Together, they were life. -a quote from Shadows So Cruel by Liv Zander
White words on a starry blue background read: I will continue to love you among the stars. I will be the night, the darkest patch of sky around you, just to ensure that everyone can see how you sparkle.
A screen shot from social media. Black text on a white background reads: [getting kidnapped] grab my kindle too pls
White letters on a black background read “I’m not one to judge… we’re all a bit broken here.”
Two broken jars full of frozen water
A stack of books is pictured on a pastel background. The text reads “She’s a ten but… she adds books to her TBR every time she scrolls social media”
Black script on a blue and lavender bokeh background read “Welcome back to Fairydale”
my self-preservation has kicked in, together with the moves I'd learned from Seven Samurai.
Sister Mary had said it was a haven for millionaires. The conductor is now telling me it's a haven for criminals. Then again, who said the two don't necessarily overlap?
In the blink of an eye, the butterfly slowly melted into her skin until nothing remained of its beautiful form. Startled, Lizette stood up. She was afraid she might have harmed it with her abilities. One day, she would realize that she hadn't killed the butterfly. She'd given it life.
I became the hero as I lost myself in worlds where villains could be conquered.
To E— You were so bad in bed that it made me reevaluate my choices and turn my life around. I’ve never thanked you for that.
The notifications on my inbox surpassed ninety-nine, then added a little plus sign to let me know that they would no longer be informing me of my negligence.
Evangeline had decided that she no longer wished to be page to Lord Darrow, but rather a Crochan witch.
The problem with mankind is we too often find our souls to be a fair price for power.
“love, at its root, is hope. Hope for tomorrow. Hope for what could be. Hope that the someone you’ve entrusted your everything to will cradle and protect it. And hope? That shit is harder to kill than a dragon.”