BEAUTY IS TERROR

she spun herself a crown of gold, thrones of bones and citadels. to the deaf stars she screamed: make me queen or i’ll make you bleed.

[latenightoperation]

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[koresoteiras]

You wasted your times On my heart You’ve burned And if bridges gotta fall, then you’ll fall, too

[marzaenna]

Greek Mythology: Persephone

You did not wear the crown on your head with reluctance, you embraced your title as Queen.

[nadiea]

Persephone  ↳ goddess of spring & queen of the underworld

[herasdream]

HADES & PERSEPHONE: The first living visitor to the Underworld, though an unwilling one, was the goddess Persephone. The only daughter of Zeus and Demeter (the goddess of grain, agriculture, and fertility), Persephone was an innocent maiden, a virgin who loved to play in the fields where eternal springtime reigned.But Hades had other plans for Persephone: He would steal her innocence and virginity and turn her into the dreaded goddess of the Underworld.  But Hades grew to love Persephone and showed pity on her after every winter, allowing, once a year, the flowers to bloom

[quantumchild-deactivated2016120]

greek mythology meme: women and queens

↳ Persephone

[quantumchild-deactivated2016120]

Persephone was born to Demeter, the Goddess of harvest and was said to have been abducted by Hades who rules the Underworld. In her mother’s grief over her daughter being promised to Hades by Zeus, king of gods Demeter mourned and devised a punishment where all the crops became stillborn and the soil barren. Moved by this, Zeus ordered Hermes to escort Persephone back to her mother. Hades agreed that she may go to console her grieving mother, but that she must return again and take her place as his honourable wife. 

Unsure if Persephone would return of her own accord, Hades provided her with a fruit of the underworld which she ate. Once Persephone returned home, it was brought to her mother’s attention what she had done. Eating a fruit of underworld meant that Persephone must live there for a third of the year with her husband. During that time, Demeter would mourn, and the crops would die, waiting for Persephone’s return so they could flourish in her mother’s happiness.

[fairytalesques]

love is gasoline and he’s the match. his skin glints gold in the shining dusklight; a storm just within waiting to explode. dynasties topple like dominoes. his is a kingdom built on hearts instead of bones. some people just stick to you. like honey on a hot day or red strings of fate. you don’t believe in fate. but you do believe in him. if you had a compass it would point to him.

coming home | m.j. (via fairytalesques)

[apoeticmythos]

the ground scuffed knees, falling deeper and deeper into the dirt, oh, lady, under the earth and growing in it. prayers, ghosts dancing in eyes, grass clutched between fingers, wishing so hard. at night asking the lady, for help in confidence, please grant strength and worth, of your love and their voices. praising the deathly bloom by day, spells glitter at fingertips, everything is vibrant, and doubtful. a sense of searching, accompanies the ghosts like lonely companions, this is no peaceful psychic-ism, just scared hearts in scared chests. the strong queen is a savior, lovely persephone, a bright darkness, with sharp teeth. hands grasp at the lady, hopeful palms praying for reassurance, am i worth this? can i do this? fragrant scents of sage and soil float in the air, comforting and soothing, a reminder that this is all, there is to be needed. this is life, and you are living.

doubtful devotion; l.m.

[argonauticae]

♕  H A D E S T O W N  » our lady of the underground

i got the wind right here in a jar, i got the rain on tap at the bar, i got the sunshine up on the shelf - allow me to introduce myself! brother, what’s my name? my name is our lady of the underground! brother, what’s my name? our lady of ways, our lady of means! brother, what’s my name? my name is our lady of the upside-down!

[crow-caller]

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Diamond dogs- David Bowie (Beck’s cover)

Crawling down the alley on your hands and knee I’m sure you’re not protected, for it’s plain to see The diamond dogs are poachers and they hide behind trees Hunt you to the ground they will, mannequins with kill appeal

[ferrisbueller]

[koresoteiras]

Roaring 20s Headcanons

Persephone has always been maternal (perhaps because she was separated from her children for six months of the year as a goddess) but was particularly sympathetic to young women in this time period. She sympathized with the young widows left ruined by the war, and often took what few she could and sent the rest to Hera.

The poppy fields planted over carnage were her own touch. Persephone did her best to make sure no soldier laid unmourned, and like an angel of death often went to battlefields and trenches and with a kiss walked with suffering soldiers out of this life.

Originally masquerading as a French aristocrat during the early 20th century, Persephone abandoned her wealth to work as a battlefield nurse with the Red Cross. She ran into one of Apollo’s sons here-Asclepius-and the two of them were partners throughout the war. Persephone often found herself furious at the lack of intelligence and the casualties that could’ve been avoided, which inspired her to register as a spy in the second world war.

Persephone still has occasional flashbacks to the young boys shaking and screaming under her pale hands. She remembers the feeling of their blood, the tears that ran down scarred cheeks, the bullet wounds and tear gas. She protested Vietnam years later, making a note each time soldiers were drafted to speak to Ares about using his influence.

After the war, Persephone was poor and in need of distraction. It was on the pier where she met her next husband, a tycoon with a sprawling mansion and millions in property. He was in his sixties, she appeared about 19. But he was wealthy, and that was all she cared about-at least until 1924, when he mysteriously died and his funds vanished.

She found Dionysus soon after. The two of them founded a speakeasy of sorts, with the password changing weekly. Persephone sleeps on his couch, taking in young women she’s found on the street. She used her talents for communicating with the dead to masquerade as a medium to support their underground club, and the gems she smuggled from her husband’s mansion have supported their venture as well. She’s the brains, Dio’s the sex appeal, Apollo (when he shows up) is the entertainment. They make a formidable trio.

She called herself Titania Doyle., the queen of the fairy world in Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, Tanya for short-though she was known in the underground as simply Our Lady. No one got the reference. Not that she entirely intended them to.

[shiiimmer]

Mythology Meme [17/∞]: Kore/Persephone, a Greek goddess

Best known as Persephone, this goddess is the daughter of Zeus and Demeter, goddess of harvest. She was born Kore and is, like her mother, associated with harvest and the fertility of vegetation in this form. Many gods wooed her, but her mother hid her from them all, accepting none of their gifts. When Hades fell in love with her, Zeus arranged for him to meet her in a field, where he raped and abducted her. Demeter, outraged, followed Hades and took back her daughter. However, Kore had eaten some of the pomegranate seeds offered to her, and was obliged to spend six months of every year in the Underworld [in some myths, it is three months]. While she is with Hades, Kore takes the name Persephone and becomes Queen of the Underworld. Through her marriage to him, she represents the duality of life and death, and how seeds spring to life in spring, but retreats back into the dark soil in winter.

[stupidteenwhore-deactivated2015]

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So I suppose you could call it boredom but I put Oblivion by Bastille to a thunderstorm.

[lostlostinthemusic]

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Benny Goodman - Sing, Sing, Sing

[fawnvelveteen]

[wiseathxna]

fawnvelveteen:

Greta Garbo

[jackviolet]

Dark 1920s Look, styling, make up and model: Idda van Munster. Photography by Muna Nazak.

[immortalladydite-blog]

parisian days ;

[immortalladydite-blog]

Eyelashes naturally thick, and enviably so, fluttered down at a slow pace, as if unable to comprehend the appearance of the young woman in front of her.  “Oh look,” The cupid’s bow of her lip stretched ever so slightly as she smiled, now infinitely more amused than a mere moment before. “Hello Persephone. Or what is it you’re calling yourself now? Peony, perhaps?” Her lush french accent slid out with fluidity, after all, she personified Paris.

Ah yes, The city of love. Now, Aphrodite was no longer the type of woman to fight another over petty history, but once upon a time that had been the case. Her skin might not have borne the marks, but the stories didn’t lie.  She wondered if Persephone would let bygones be bygones, but naturally, the memory of Adonis, his taste, his scent, was still as fresh as ever. Lips succulent, like wine. Eyes blue, like the turbulent swirl of the waters that had birthed.

 Of course, Persephone could not let go of the past. Of course, she couldn’t. She didn’t blame her.  

[koresoteiras]

It was at times like this Persephone wondered if Aphrodite knew that she’d spent her wartime years in France. The French Resistance was hardly the palace of Versailles, but then again-hadn’t Persephone marched on that very building in the 18th century? The language was rusty on her tongue, but it was present. At the moment, Persephone was tempted to insult her companion in Aphrodite’s chosen language. The irony in that was almost worth lowering herself to speak to the goddess of adultery

.“Aphrodite,” she managed instead, a cold smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I didn’t know you lowered yourself to traveling with the common class. Whoring yourself out must not be as lucrative as Pretty Woman made it look, hmm?” She took a sip of her iced coffee, enjoying the bitter taste on her tongue. “Maybe try New York. I hear there are plenty of businessmen who are as loose with their money as they are with their morals. Most of them are married, but that hasn’t stopped you before, why should it now?” She remembered Adonis. Of course she remembered Adonis, his golden hair, the scars along his back, the feeling of his laughter as his head rested on her chest. How stupid she’d been. How stupid she still was.