tacere.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒹𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝓊𝓃𝒽𝑜𝓁𝓎. 

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this blog is being archived tonight.   the new blog can be found at @godbanes 

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this blog is being archived tonight.   the new blog can be found at @godbanes 

[godbanes-archived]

this blog is being archived tonight.   the new blog can be found at @godbanes 

[godbanes]

i cannot remember the last time that i felt like i belong in this body and in this world.   something bigger always called for me,   yet i can never tell whether it is good or evil.     i want to claw my way out of this world and swallow it up.     i want to melt into the earth and become flowers.     i want to be good and create beauty.    i want to be evil and cause destruction.     every day i struggle and fight against my body and mind.

GOBANES.   a study on the duality of godhood.   an independent blog with canon,   mythological and original characters.    worshipped by ari.

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this blog is being archived tonight.   the new blog can be found at @godbanes 

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gentledeaths​:

THE PRINCE APPROACHES.  —   ‘ she wouldn’t say something like that to me. ’   thanatos says this with such finality, such truth that one might believe he altered the fabric of space and time to make it into a fact. his face contorts into an expression of conflict and disgust. a father … this changes things. how much of his birthright has the young prince been kept a secret? did hypnos know? did charon? was thanatos the only one kept from the well-kept secret of his father’s identity, and if he was, for what reason?

the prince rises from his bed when zagreus speaks, floating gently over the floor as he paces back and forth : he has the disposition of a scholar, of course, and immediately, the gears in his mind begin turning. zagreus held dominion over life, over blood - and thanatos was not a god, not born with enough influence over anything to warrant a domain. ( yet, hades in administration believes thanatos to be the golden child, sacrificing his own son’s willingness to continue in exchange for such things. ) from the nothingness does thanatos select the darkness that surrounds him, pulling it around his body like a cloak until it became just that, his fingers pulling a hood above his head.

‘ efthalia, ’  thanatos commands, and thanatos’ scythe comes to him, whispering praises in her tone, and estevios follows not long after, seeking blood and retribution. it is unlike thanatos to be so impulsive, so UNPLANNED. it is obvious that the mere mention of a father has brought uncertainty into the prince’s once-uniform life, and he seeks answers like he seeks blood. ‘ let’s go, then. ’

the god of blood looks at his prince as he often regards the sunsets and sunrises.    many grow bored of them,   see them just as what they are  --  natural events,   the pull of helios’ chariot and the rise of selene.   zagreus,   however,   revels in their beauty just as he revels in the changes in thanatos.    one would have to pay attention,   to truly look and observe how the son of night shifts and changes.    zagreus can almost see it coming,    but it catches him by surprise anyway.   when the prince lifts,   so does the wielder of the infernal weapons,   as if the prince is wielding him.

“  we’re going now.  ”     an eyebrow arches,   not in question but in surprise to thanatos’ impulsiveness.    the stygian blade waits sheathed at his side,   power rumbling through it when it feels the presence of efthalia and estevios.   such is the power of such an ancient weapon;   it calls for those as strong as it.     “  there’s an exit.   the balcony,   if you don’t want to be seen.  ”    mismatched gaze finds the golden one and holds it briefly,   lips pulling up into the grin of mischief that he used to display when they had been younger and more careless than ever. 

“  got any idea where to look?  ”        he pushes past the doors of thanatos’ chamber,  slipping into the smaller hallways that lead to the courtyard.    there,   the balcony awaits.    somewhere in the wide realm of the underworld,   a father awaits.    maybe.   hopefully.    but zagreus would not question it.      “  even if you don’t,  i will help you for as long as i can before duty calls.  ”

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letheslept​:

  @godbanes​  said  :  ❛   why   are   you   doing   this?   ❜ - icarus, but non-accusingly

“  Hmm? Doing what?  ”  he asks back innocently, continuing to lace the red flowers in icarus’s curly hair. he mostly did this on an impulse. maybe hypnos wished to see what he would look like with poppies poking out his hair. or he looked like he needed some company.   such where the mysteries of the whims of gods. but luckily, hypnos liked to talk.

“  Ooooh, this? I just thought you needed some color, that’s all! The underworld can be real dreary, with what all the dead people around—  ”    hypnos pauses with a blink, looking down at icarus before a sheepish grin spreads on his face. “  N-Not .. that there’s anything wrong with being dead- I think you look great for being dead! Haha—  ”

it isn’t that he minds,   rather that icarus is interested in why hypnos chose to decorate him out of everyone in the house of hades.    it is typically icarus who is the decorator,   painting flowers and beauties on canvases and walls,   sculpting statues of the greatest warriors and the gods he is ruled by.    this is nice,   too,  though.    it makes him smile.

“   hah,   don’t worry about offending me.   i know death suits me quite well.  ”    he hums,   smile growing into a grin.     “  i appreciate the colour,  though.   you are right when you say the underworld is dreary.   i often feel out of place surrounded by this much darkness.   i have always been more of a...   sunny skies person.  ”     not a secret,   of course.   his golden eyes,  two fading suns,  flicker closed as he remembers the last time he saw the sky naked before him,   with its light warming his body pleasantly.   

“  and you know what,   hypnos?   i think you look great awake and asleep.   please don’t let me interrupt your decorating of my hair.   i am rather curious how it’ll look.  ”

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atomancy​:

He’s been the cause of a lot of missed sleep for Ellis lately, and he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t feel terrible about that. He wishes there was something he could do, but if it’s not nightmares that wake him screaming, it’s dreams that don’t leave him alone. He’s grateful for the other’s patience. He shifts his weight to accommodate him and finds himself instead lifted and settled against Ellis. It makes him smile just a little, and it calms him. Ellis’ touch has always been soothing, though he’s not sure which of them it’s quieting. Ellis hates waking up without him just as much as Rives does.

River lets out a breath of relief when Ellis says he knows the boy. “Really?” Though despite that, it makes the ache in his chest more painful. He rubs a hand against his sternum as though that will rid him of it, his eyes on his rough sketches and a longing in his expression he can’t quite explain. “No, not a name yet,” he answers with a sigh. “But…” The more he tries to think of it, the more his throat starts to swell and his eyes burn. Whoever this boy is, he loves him desperately. He picks up the sketch he’d just finished, and when he speaks his voice is a little weaker. “I think… I think this is my son. The one I keep talking about. I remember him when he’s small, and I…” He presses his lips together, cuts off the rest of what he was saying with a wavering hum. River clears his throat and shakes his head. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Mama says my son was no hero, how could we have known him in the afterlife? But… I don’t know. That’s what it feels like anyway. But I don’t think the dead can reproduce.”

it never gets any less odd to think of a life they had,   so solid yet untouchable now.   all they have are puzzle pieces,   memories that are triggered sometimes by nothing at all.    ellis shied away from his own   ( the killing of a boy,   the sadness of being abandoned,   fighting in a war alongside someone greater than him whom he loved,   truly )  and repressed them.    sometimes they marked him,   so deeply that sobbing his heart out hadn’t been enough.   there is shame in some of the marks that done his skin still,   but when he is so close to river they do not matter at all.

“  i doubt so.   going with the idea that...   everything physical is left here and all that’s taken to the afterlife is our soul.  ”    ellis purses his lips,  musing on the thought for a second.    he looks at the drawings again and all they bring to him is a warm nostalgia,   a dim feeling of hope that had been much needed coming to mind before it catches roots in his chest once more.     “  if you think this stranger is related to you,   then it must be true.   i knew you were part of me from the moment i saw you.  ”    his hand continues to move gently on river’s skin if only to soothe the emotions he can hear in his boyfriend’s voice.    “  perhaps...  perhaps your mom could ask who this boy is.    why you remember him this way despite him truly not being your child.   someone has to know.   he doesn’t exactly look like the typical kid. ”

[monagxrie]

Yall the RPC is a mess and we have got to start getting better about interacting with people. This whole ‘oh i’ll wait until they approach me’ mentality that so many of us have fallen into is literally going to be the death of the community before any update that staff wants to push out ever will. I can’t count on both hands the number of people I personally know who have left the RPC as a whole because of what they percieve as a lack of interest in their muses. I’ve been here for a decade and thing didn’t used to be this way, people could easily slide into the RPC and feel welcome.

It genuinely feels like as a whole we’ve gottens so caught up in the aesthetics of roleplaying that we’ve forgotten the purpose of the hobby. We reblog memes but there's a serious lack of actual interaction in the community.

Send asks of all sorts, it doesn’t matter if you think they’re dumb because there’s a really good chance that the mun is going to appreciate the interaction. Comment on headcanon posts because the mun will appreciate the feedback. Make dash commentaries on whatever sparks your muse’s interest.

We've got to get back to a spot where people feel like they're allowed to interact with other members of the hobby.

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... me thinking about sad hurt/comfort plots constantly.

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vilestblood​:

@godbanes​ said: You and I nursing on a poison that never stung. Our teeth and lungs are lined with the scum of it - victor

“Oh, I would recommend you to try the blood of certain monsters. You’ll find it does, indeed, sting.” There’s humour in his reply, countering Victor’s darker musing. 

He sits by the riverside, clad in his crowfeather garb sans the mask, which he’s cleaning with a wet cloth. (Odd enough to see him without it, yet…) Just a moment after, the Hunter of Hunters had finished wiping blood off his face; a large wound inflicted by his latest prey still visible on his cheek. It’ll heal, even if it takes a day or two.

“Worry not,” he continues, mindful of putting the blood-stained cloth away to properly dispose of it later. “I’m only resting here for a moment — no intention to bring any trouble to your forest.”

the forest is not his,   but it has certainly adopted him.   victor hides in its shade and coolness,    cleans himself in its lakes and calms himself in its freshscent.   it healed certain parts of him that he thought nothing ever could.    there is still a wound,   though,   buried deep under the layers of his shattered soul,  that shall never close.    the vampire shies away from the stranger,   yet eyes remaining keen on following every move that he makes.

the scent of blood makes his stomach churn painfully  ( an illusion,  perhaps,  a way of reasoning the insatiable hunger he feels day in and day out )  and it makes his veins burn.    it’s been days since he last fed.    the body of the animal had been buried only meters away from here,   as though that will soften the blow of taking a life.

“  i am...   i am making sure you mean n-no harm-  ”    his voice breaks,   throat sore after weeks,  perhaps months of having not spoken.    “  many who come here...    come to harm this place.   me.   s-so i...  i struggle to trust y-your words,  stranger.  ”

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i'm awake because i dreamt i was late to math class. i'm a social sciences master student. bro.

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also i feel like i need to mention this when it comes to certain aspects of canon: i am willing to meet my partners in the middle. i think it's important to acknowledge that i don't 100% follow canon most of the time so if your interpretation is different from mine in regards to a dynamic then i'm excited to hear it! this especially applies to mythos charas since most dynamics from there can vary in different interpretations and such. so pls don't be discouraged by my general takes. plots can be very different from what i write in my metas / headcanons.

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me wanting threads where zagreus gets to talk about how hades’ abuse made him feel…. me wanting to explore how that treatment gave him major anxiety so if people don’t match the usual energy (i.e they don’t seem as enthusiastic or loving that day) he starts worrying that he did something wrong. i want zagreus to talk about how much anger he still represses or how hard it is to be the jovial person he is because it would be so much easier for him to just give in to his anger and sadness,

[publicservicememes]

PSA: Tagging for Blacklist

THE BEST WAY:

#______ tw #______ cw

Possible acceptable alternative (if the person has it blacklisted/filtered): #______

NOT acceptable ways to tag your posts:

Ways that run the high risk of blacklist not catching: #tw ______ #cw ______ #tw: ______ #cw: ______

Ways that aren’t really helpful for people who genuinely need warnings: #______ mention #______ for ts #______ / #______ // #______ /// (etc)

The worst alternatives for tagging for warnings: #tw #trigger warning #~*~______~*~ #𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕗𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕪 𝕥𝕖𝕩𝕥/𝒸𝑜𝓅𝓎 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓃𝓉𝓈 #🚨🛑⚠️ (emojis of any kind in tags) not tagging at all

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maybe when zagreus grows into his godhood and powers... he physically grows too? not by much but he's not a midget anymore.

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i've shut down my laptop for tonight, but quick hc anyway: zagreus tells his weapons 'you are bound to me, and i am your host'. that means he is entirely connected to the infernal weapons. he feels their power like a consciousness whenever he wields them. sometimes they wield him by guiding his movements in battle. zagreus and the infernal weapons are one.