WHITE LIES.

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬   𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝   𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑛   𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑠   𝐨𝐟   𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬.

[holymyth]

hi i’m here but class is kicking my a** so the best place to find me until i’m done in april is disco.rd xoxo

[holymyth]

if ppl on the dash are thirsting over ben ravenc/roft then that means everyone is legally obligated 2 let me actually write him

[traumaticchild]

“what happened to you made you stronger” 

i was a child. i didn’t need to be strong i needed to be safe

[holymyth]

j . p .   circa   1974   -   1991 .

[holymyth]

lowkey.....plotting call

[holymyth]

lowkey.....plotting call

[holymyth]

crack  glass  against  the  wall   and  revel  in  the  shards.    this  is  your  heart  on  the  ground,   𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚙 - 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎𝚍  𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢  and  linoleum.    you  are  mismatched,   mistake,   mislead.   you  are  𝖜𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖊  and   a p a r t   and  inbetween.     𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣  𝕞𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕙  𝕞𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕𝕤  𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤  𝕪𝕠𝕦  𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖  𝕥𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥  𝕟𝕠𝕥  𝕥𝕠  𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕜.      that  𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭  𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥  𝐭𝐨  𝐰𝐚𝐫  you  feel  against  your  ribs  is  the  breath  in  your  lungs,   in,   out,   in  again.   steady  now,  your  hands  are  shaking.  

[classic-starters]

ALTERED  REALITY  SENTENCE  STARTERS  PT I

send one in for a starter based on it. ( source: x )

any target 

churches in texas 

abandoned 7/11’s

your bedroom at 5 am 

hospitals at midnight 

warehouses that smell like dust 

lighthouses with lights that don’t work anymore 

empty parking lots 

ponds and lakes in suburban neighborhoods

rooftops in the early morning 

inside a dark cabinet

playgrounds at night

rest stops on highways

deep in the mountains

early in the morning wherever it’s just snowed

trails by the highway just out of earshot of traffic

schools during breaks

those little beaches right next to ferry docks

bowling alleys

unfamiliar McDonalds’s on long road trips

your friends living room once everybody but you is asleep

laundromats at midnight

galeries in art museums that are empty except for you 

the lighting section of home depot

stairwells

hospital waiting rooms 

airports from midnight to 7am 

bathrooms in small concert venues

cemeteries 

abandoned penitentiaries 

hilltops at night in full moonlight 

most of Japan 

empty barns 

marshes 

really anywhere quiet at midnight, the air vibrates 

old stones and henge 

the ocean when it’s still quiet with fog over it

train tracks that go through the middle of the woods

bridges

part ii  /  part iii

[carnal]

“I fell in love with the idea that the mysterious thing you look for your whole life will eventually eat you alive.”

— Laurie Anderson explaining her attraction to Moby-Dick (via mythologyofblue)

[madnessiskey]

You (2018), dir. Marcos Siega Season 1 Episode: Amour Fou

[captainwakandas]

[holymyth]

playgrounds at night   /   @drklng​

a  breeze  rustles  the  dry,   rotting  leaves  on  the  ground .      a  small  gesture  of  the  squaller’s  hand  lifts  them   ---   they  dance,   twirl,   caught  in  the  zephyr’s  current .      this  was  one  of  the  rare  occasions  zoya  left  herself  truly  alone  since  her  return  to  the  little  palace,   though  she  knows  it  won’t  last  long .      this  sun - faded  playground  for  the  little  ones  on  palace  grounds  that’s  often  left  abandoned;   ideal,   perhaps,   for  conversations  intended  to  be  unheard .      in  the  moonlight,   she’s  a  harrowing  silhouette  against  the  structures  that  yearn  for  adolescence  and  reach  skyward  for  something  unnamed .      perhaps  she  was  brooding   ---   or  maybe  she  was  getting  tired  of  watching  her  people  moon  over  the  sun  summoner .

there’s  no  crunch  of  footsteps  on  leaves,   but  she  doesn’t  miss  the  approaching  figure .      zoya’s  hand  drops  and  the  breeze  falls  away .      “  moi  soverennyi .      i  presume  there’s  a  reason  you  chose  here  to  meet  instead  of  inside  the  palace ?  ”      a  raise  of  her  brow  doesn’t  pose  a  challenge,   and  instead  raises  curiosity .

[holymyth]

           lantsov,    n      (  cleverscar  ) .

        boots find their way to the desk  ;  ankles crossed atop one another as he catches her eye.    for a brief moment, he thinks she’s a star in a dark night sky.    he’s quick to let the thought fade, however, as he lays his hands against his lower abdomen.    there is something regal about showing your comfort in the palace  ;  isn’t there  ?    something that makes others see the way you know it’s yours.    and it is his, now.    finger tips tap against the top of his opposite hand  ;  eyes never straying from hers.    the swirl of thunder clouds enticing him to stay exactly where he is.    oh, how he’s heard warnings of her.    she is something strong and brave, and somehow, he finds her to be brilliant and radiant.    she’s a sword, and he hopes to keep her close.    perhaps, she will let him.

        there’s a sigh of breath that slips past his lips as he lets his eyes fall from hers, head rolling to the side as he studies the maps again.    calloused fingers  –  much too calloused for most kings  –  pick up the papers.    what does a king do, exactly  ?    from what he can tell so far, he shuffles papers.    he hates it.    but, who’s going to stop him from changing things  ?    a smile blooms on his face, heels finding their way to the floor with a loud bang.    he brings his body forward on the chair, before finally finding her eyes again.      “  oh, how you wound me, dear zoya.  ”      there is a toying gesture of    …    perhaps, flirtation mirroring in his eyes, before he’s finding himself  ;  the king, again.      “  i assume you have an idea of how to fix their    …    inept actions, yes  ?    do tell.  ”      undivided focus finds her.    a rarity, though, he doubts she realizes it.

there’s  something  to  be  said  about  the  spark  in  dark  irises  as  her  head  cants  to  the  left .      perhaps  a  challenge  for  him  to  pursue,   or  something  more  vampish    ---    whatever  it  is,  it’s  there  and  gone  as  quickly  as  the  breezes  she  could  summon .      “  i  couldn’t  wound  your  pride  if  i  tried,   nikolai .      and  you’d  know  if  i  was  trying .  ”      for  all  of  his  more  insufferable  qualities,   and  her  barbs,   she  could  acknowledge  that  they  sought  the  same  thing .      she  couldn’t  be  so  lucky  as  to  view  this  as  a  fresh  start    ---    she  was  long  since  past  longing  for  one  of  those    ---    but  it  was  an  opportunity  to  rebuild  something  stronger .      and  she  could  see  her  own  desires  mirrored  within  his  actions  since  the  inauguration .      much  could  be  claimed  about  zoya,   but  above  many  things,   she  was  a  soldier;    and  as  such,   she  would  follow  the  throne .

“  the  potential  is  there,   they  just  need  more  time  to  train .      believe  it  or  not,   i  was  trained  for  years  before  i  was  on  the  field .  ”      a  smirk  tugs  briefly  at  the  edge  of  her  lips .      “  talent  may  be  natural,   but  skill  comes  with  time .  "      long  strides  cross  the  space  from  the  wall  to  the  closest  side  of  his  desk .      slender  fingers  wrap  around  the  carved  arm  of  the  opposing  chair,   and  she  sinks  into  it,   right  leg  crossing  fluidly  over  her  left .      “  frankly,   we’re  low  in  numbers .      we  need  more  grisha .  ”

[holymyth]

            lantsov,    n      (  cleverscar  ) .

        boots click against marble floors as he steps with purpose.    oh, how good it is to be king  ?    isn’t it  ?    there’s a moment, before he allows himself to open the door, when he deflates ever so slightly.    heavy is the crown  ;  or so someone once told him.    a soft breath is pushed past his lips, before he’s correcting his stance, and pushing the doors open.    eyes land on a sight  ;  so beautiful he nearly swoons.    (  nearly.  )    a king doesn’t swoon  ;  but rather, makes others swoon.    footsteps fall lighter in this room  ;  in this atmosphere.   he can tell her tense stature    –    the way she moves in his presence.    how he wishes he could be sturmhond full - time.

        fingers    –    light as possible    –    brush against the back of her bicep as he makes his way into the room.    he’s quick to find his place at the desk, eyes scanning maps  ;  they are one of his favorite things.      “  a king is never late, nazyalensky.    everyone else is simply early.  ”      a smug grin forms against his lips as he takes in her appearance  ;  the storm that rages within her eyes is something he finds most appealing.    perhaps he will have fun chasing it.      “  and please, call me nikolai.    we are going to be working quite closely together  ;  titles aren’t necessary.  ”      besides, i hate it.    he wants to add, but thinks better of it.    he should know her better before he reveals his desires for a different country.

the  graze  of  fingertips  against  her  arm  was  ghost - like;   as  if  the  act  itself  was  a  sleight  of  hand,   and  she  had  imagined  it  happening  at  all .      but  there  was  no  imagining  the  now - king  as  he  all  but  glides  to  the  desk  dominating  the  space  across  the  room .      zoya  doesn’t  move  from  her  spot  by  the  window    ---    instead,   rather  striking  irises  observe  him  as  he  takes  his  seat .      it’s  no  throne,   and  this  is  not  the  glacial  room  the  darkling  had  stolen  deeper  in  the  palace,   but  the  comfort  nikolai  exhibits  makes  the  wooden  object  feel  like  something  sovereign  in  its  own  right .   

however,   when  he  speaks,   she’s  swiftly  reminded  of  the  other  name  the  ravkan  people  had  given  him .      sobachka .      he  had  the  roguish  energy  of  one,   that  much  was  certain,  and  it  takes  a  practice  in  self - restraint  to  not  roll  her  eyes .

“  of  course .  ”      it  seems,   for  once,   that  she  is  conceding .      it  only  lasts  a  moment .      “  forgive  me,   i  forgot  the  second  army’s  time  changes  at  your  leisure .  "      the  apparition  of  a  returning  smirk  flickers,   though  it’s  more  like  a  flash  of  distant  lightning  within  her  eyes  than  a  presence  on  her  lips .      with  that,   she  shifts  to  business .      "  the  students  are  getting  used  to  their  new  schedule  but  they’re  unrefined,   in  genya’s  terms .      in  mine,   they’re  inept .  ”

[holymyth]

the  marbled  sunlight  that  filters  through  the  windows  of  the  grand  palace  warms  zoya’s  face .      her  back  remains  to  the  rest  of  the  room,   and  she  feels  minor  discomfort  at  being  within  this  building  rather  than  the  little  palace    ---    like  a  flower  that’s  been  uprooted  and  placed  within  unfamiliar  soil .      a  gilded  cage  of  a  thing,   this  palace  was,   with  all  of  it’s  now - muted  grandness  and  shimmering  gold  details .      though,   admittedly,   she  finds  comfort  in  the  new  blue  kefta  that  she  was  granted  within  the  weeks  following  the  destruction  of  the  fold .      something  familiar  within  the  upheaval  ravka  experienced .

it  should  have  been  imperceptible,   particularly  with  the  lack  of  approaching  footsteps  that  would  otherwise  give  a  person  away,   but  the  squaller  feels  a  shift  within  the  air .      it’s  like  something  physical  against  her  skin,   moving  as  if  adjusting  around  the  new  body  disrupting  the  stillness .      her  spine  straightens,   and  she  debates  for  a  moment  if  she  should  turn  to  face  her  company    ---    ultimately,   tradition  and  respect  for  the  throne  wins .      “  you’re  late,   you  know .  ”      it’s  a  simple  greeting,   accompanied  by  a  subtle  arch  of  her  brow .      then,   a  moment  later,   voice  only  losing  a  fraction  of  it’s  wryness,     “  moi  tsar .  ”

random  starter  bc  @cleverscar​  demanded  it

[holymyth]

just thinking about mary

[stagwand-a]

while i’m discussing the potters .   let’s talk about how badass euphemia and fleamont are .   fleamont is an INTERNATIONALLY RENOWNED potioneer .   u can’t tell me his influence in the area of potions is limited solely to cosmetics and sleekeazy,   this guy had DEFINITELY helped make huge strides in that field .   consider :   potions is directly paralleled to chemistry,  so imagine fleamont making some huge discovery at one point or another or contributing to something major that his partner at the time ripped off the credit that was rightly fleamont’s .   he’s a direct descendant of the gd peverells .    he literally fought people at hogwarts who made fun of his name just to defend his deceased grandmother .   monty potter died protecting his niece mary from a curse   (  because canon can choke and i say so  ) .    his father,   henry,   was such an advocate for the muggleborn community that he caused a scandal !!   fleamont being any less iconic ?   doubt it .   the most patient,   goofy,   driven,   passionate man .   

AND MIA POTTER .   miss euphemia royer .   beautiful intelligent french pureblood angel .   the best lady in the whole wizarding world .   marrying into the potter family instantly gained her some notoriety and eyes were always on her,   and she owned it !!   her mental and physical health were never the steadiest things on the planet and she suffered with both sorts of illnesses until the day she died,   but she always always always had a smile on her face .    always knew just how to light up a room or command your attention with a story or joke .   tender regardless of everything thrown her way .   was literally !!!   bombarded with reporters following her sisters’ death who attempted to implicate her and fleamont for having some sort of hand in it !!!   while her sister and husband were these voices increasing in volume in support of muggleborns,  mia was the one looking out for all of their families !!!   constantly on the defense and fending off accusations and !!!!  whew !!