#mythicsquad

[psyhces]

modern greek myths: psyche & eros

And then conversations that sink into silences. That’s when he says, “Let’s dance.” That’s when the overrated pop songs or too-loud electro house music make the stereos quake. That’s when they become two black motion blurs against neon lights. He dances close to her, twirls her at the right time. He doesn’t dance with her. 

That’s when she notices that space again. That’s when the curiosity in her heart flares up and asks, “Is it so terrible to close the distance?” It’s such a small and tender thing she doesn’t have the heart to crush it.

( - an excerpt from morpho, a modern retelling I’m working on )

[cassiopheias]

aesthetic rates

i’ve been lowkey inactive for a while and also i reached 3k a while ago, so i thought i’d do some blogrates to celebrate & as an apology for being inactive

rules:

must be following me

reblog this post (likes don’t count) 

send me your favorite book, art work, poem, etc.

format under the cut 

fabric; satin / lace / cotton / silk / corduroy  constellation;  lyra / andromeda / phoenix / pyxis / cygnus  element: air / energy / water / fire / earth  scent: lavender / peach / chocolate / vanilla / lime season; winter / spring / summer / fall

[winterblues]

icarus x apollo - after he kisses your lips for the first time, close your eyes, he will walk out the door but his silhouette will linger, the sillage of his perfume will fall through the gaping cavity in your weathervane chest like light. after his heart sucks the blood out of yours like hard candy, say “thank you,” say that you never needed it anyway. after he leaves you, watch the skies tremble like his knees on winter noons, look at the sun bang its restless head against morose clouds. follow him into the scalding oblivion of his chambers, fall knowing you tried, fall tasting saltwater like sweet release on your paper tongue, fall with the traces of his last smile pinning the nail in your oceanic coffin.

fall knowing it is a celestial hurt like stars scraping your bare feet, fall knowing you will die seeing the shape of his hands reaching for you in the dark.

j.r

[andruwminyrd]

💫 aesthetic blogrates 💫

i need something to do while watching saw iv ok

rules.

mbf human mess #1

send me a 💫 or music/tv/movie recs

reblog this post to spread the word

maybe check out my sideblog softpersephone?

maybe check out my second pinterest, softpersephone?

i’ll use the tag #as3 does blogrates, in case ppl wanna blacklist

format under the cut (bless @asteriea​ for the format)

archetype femme fatale / hero / villain / everyman / innocent / sidekick / savior scent rose / chocolate / jasmine / lavender / rain / vanilla / mint / books colour burgundy / emerald / baby pink / eerie black / celeste  / peach mythical creature siren / fairy / unicorn / dragon / pegasus / ghost / nymphs season spring / summer / fall / winter place ocean / sky / earth / space your song: 

[illuminosity]

really close to my next thousand! help a girl out? :’)

[prcserpina]

i. bloodlust: i want to hunt boys like men hunt me when my legs and teeth are bared, i'm tired of being an empty body because it's always the hollow ghosts who end up with their lungs coughed up on the ground, blood-smeared / blood-spattered, i don't know how to tell people that some nights i dream of a tongue down my throat but most nights i dream of a KNIFE there instead. ii. faulty wires: let's say that text messages are the new love letters so dead silence for two days actually means "i wanna kiss you so bad i don't even know how to talk to you anymore." it goes like this: touch / electricity / delete (and pretend we never actually existed at the same time in the same space; this way the laws of physics hurt a little less).  tell me, are you a dying star? DO YOU KNOW HOW TO BLEED? iii. hearts and powercuts: black skies and cigarette smoke tell me to stop writing the world as a nightmare but that's hard to do when i've only known lovers as shadows on my bedroom walls at midnight; i ache / i hunger / i fall for the moon again and pretend that she's the sun in my mouth. HYPOTHESIS: if i set fire to the world tonight we could burn down to the ground or we could go up in smoke.  iv. god's liquor-dipped tongue: heaven is a sweet-talker, an angel taught me how to kiss & tell and fall in and out of love in the time it takes for sobriety to kick in and now i can't think of a better way say that the universe belongs in hell the same way lucifer did. i want to CRASH & BURN like icarus but i'll be honest and say that i'm sick and tired of hearing about boys who never did learn how to fly. v. neon churches in our bodies: there's no difference between the hunter and the hunted, we're all searching for the same victim to call home and we all end up chasing the same bloody demons in circles again and again and again. i'm always starving for something more (I'M ALWAYS STARVING FOR YOU). can i offer you these ribs, these lungs? i can make myself into something holy. i can be good for you, i swear.

THE POET AS AN OPEN WOUND // t.e.

[jupiterreed]

Ballads For Sunswept Mortals

Icarus is twelve and he makes twinkling adventures of his own veins, embodies the wildfire rising in through the soulless windows of blurry routine. Icarus is twelve and the world is his to feast on.

Icarus is fourteen and he fashions castles for the birds and coronets for his mother out of wax and clay, sometimes when he’s watching the emotionless sun, it seems to be watching him back. Icarus is fourteen and he is a pioneer of whimsicalities, a light-shifting meteor. Icarus is fourteen and he can be anything that he wants to be.

Icarus is sixteen and everything is void, momma’s coughing up sawdust and he’s flailing ashes like Rome during the war, the crickets caper atop the dark petals of his eyelids until he falls asleep, he picks the knives out of oak branches & tries to leech the blood out of the summer wind. Icarus is sixteen and he is forging tear-tracks all the way up to the rose-printed sky.

Icarus is eighteen and the sun is so, so very bright, he wakes up to ichor stains on his skin and light burning holes through his topsy turvy vision, the nights always feel so empty, endless ghosts with shapeless arms that latch themselves around his neck, Icarus is eighteen and the moon never did anything for him. Icarus is eighteen and he wishes to wrap his arms around an immortal star, one that burns anything that attempts to claim it to black. Icarus is twenty and he dreams up the impossible, the night crashes beneath his feet, star shards and cloud-rust, momma told him he could do anything, be anything, so he crafts himself a miracle out of wax and pretends for one graven moment that wingless beings too, can fly. Icarus is twenty and the last sight he sees is his beloved sun, smiling upon his failing body, shielding him in his brazen warmth. Icarus is dying and he is everything that he ever wanted to be.

[nehmesis]

(seen 00:57) persephone: i was never a god. the promegranates you gave me were soaked in the ichor none of us wanted to admit was there. i have swallowed plenty; it has been flowing in my veins so rapidly the blood was spat out, reborn. when you stain the canvas with gold it forgets the crimson is still under. (seen 1:00) hades: you were always a queen. i only polished your skin

it has been glowing since. is it the fruit? (demi ev.)

[inkmagician]

if you go, cities will not fall. empires will not crumble, temples will not collapse. citadels will not catch fire; rome will not go up in blazing glory like the sky did on your birthday last july fourth, when you whispered make a wish! and i laughed at you—because who makes wishes on fireworks?—but secretly wished with all my heart for you to not be sad anymore. if you go, rain will not drench the world for forty days and forty nights like it does in the chick-flicks we stay up watching until 2 a.m., i never liked those, you know, but you do and i like you.   if you go, the earth will keep turning.   but.   if you go, the boy who sits across from you in math class will hear your name on the loudspeaker, and he’ll realize he won’t have anyone to help him on calc problems anymore but mostly he’ll wish that he’d talked to you about something other than integrals. if you go, your little sister won’t have anyone to compliment her drawings even though they’re masterpieces because she’s too shy to show them to anyone else. if you go, your big brother who claims he’s mature because he has a girlfriend will cry until he can’t breathe, and you won’t even be there to tease him about it.   if you go, i’ll miss the midnight texting sessions about nothing in particular, the shared peppermint lip gloss, the early morning trading of answers to chemistry problems we were supposed to do last night. i’ll miss sitting in the back row of the movie theaters and laughing until my ribs ache even though everybody turns around to glare at us. i’ll even miss listening to your staticky voice on the phone whispering help, i don’t think i can do this anymore; i’ll miss the rush of relief that comes when i hear you talk because at least that means you’re still here, you’re still hanging on.   if you go, nothing big will happen. no stars will explode. no sound, even, except the quiet breaking of all the hearts you left behind.

TO A FADING FRIEND | prose series #2 | inkmagician

[psyhces]

modern greek mythology: hestia, goddess of the hearth and home

she overflows with warmth. it oozes from her fingers, from her heart, from her very core. like a steaming mug of tea in the face of winter’s rampage. like a candle filling a room of darkness with light. flickering, delicate life. people tend to pass her without a second glance. but truly, it is the second glance that makes her so beautiful: eyes like molten chocolate. dimples dipping into rounded cheeks. a smile curved like a welcome-back embrace. there is something about her, something magnetic. ships drawn to the lighthouse like moths drawn to the flame- she is what you’re looking for when you glance behind.

[illuminosity]

looking for new people to follow so if you’re an aesthetic/photography blog, reblog this and i’ll check you out! feel free to follow other people who reblog this as well :)

[andruwminyrd]

okay so i decided to make a tv fandom fam a while back but then i forgot about it. but better late than never! 

mbf moi

reblog this post to spread the word

send me your name & your top 3 character choices & which tv show they are from! you can check here which tv shows i’m watching!

you can check this page to see who’s taken

don’t let it flop please

& i will answer the ask privately!

[cassiopheias]

The goddess Artemis had a twin brother, Apollo, the many-faceted god of the Sun. He was her male counterpart: his domain was the city, hers the wilderness; his was the sun, hers the moon; his the domesticated flocks, hers the wild, untamed animals; he was the god of music, she was the inspiration for round dances on the mountains.

[illuminosity]

really close to my next follower goal...help pls?

[prcserpina]

he tells me we're going to be monsters and i say i've never been afraid of the dark inside us, his heart is a hard thing with wax for flesh so every time he tries to reach for me he melts away instead,  the sea has never looked so blue,  he hates to call himself icarus, we want to stop falling for angels in disguise but the ocean drags us down and secretly we long for the waves to break our bones.

THE FALL / the flight // t.e.

[prcserpina]

i tell him we're going to be in legends and he says he's tired of rewriting history with our tongues tied together, my mouth is a soft thing with feathers for teeth so every time i try to speak to him my words take flight instead,  the sky has never looked so blue, i call myself icarus,  i want to be a lost boy with a pair of wings in place of lungs but the sun burns too bright and i think i prefer to wish on stars when they don't exist.

THE FLIGHT / the fall // t.e.