ethereal glass

Sound and Fury: a mix for Tarsus IV and the aftermath

i. in the woods somewhere - hozier // ii. ready to lose - the knife // iii. biting down - lorde // iv. consecration - woven hand // v. last man standing - people in planes // vi. hunger of the pine - alt-J // vii. hunted - snow ghosts // viii. science/visions - chvrches // ix. fallen empires - snow patrol // x. can’t kill us - the glitch mob // xi. when under ether - pj harvey // xii. glass heart hymn - paper route // xiii. until it hurts - fransisca hall // xiv. wave(s) - lewis del mar // xv. teardrop - civil twilight

I need more blogs to follow!

Reblog if you’re posting about the following! Ever since I’ve lost my original blog, I’ve been having a hard time looking for new stuff because everything just disappeared.

  • Shadowhunter Chronicles (both the books and show)
  • Sarah J. Maas’ books (TOG and ACOTAR)
  • Any Jennifer L. Armentrout books!
  • Addicted Series and Aerial Ethereal
  • The Raven Cycle
  • Six of Crows 
  • The Lunar Chronicles
  • The Selection
  • Red Queen
  • Snow Like Ashes
  • Marvel
  • Once Upon A Time
  • Game of Thrones
  • Disney 
♫ Musical Instruments For The Moon Signs( The Voice Of Our Souls ) ♫

Lunar Aries: unruly, rowdy and wild like an Electric Guitar

Lunar Taurus: tranquil, smooth and unperturbed like a Saxophone

Lunar Gemini: volatile, whimsical and flighty like a Flute

Lunar Cancer: moving, sensitive and fervent like a Violin

Lunar Leo: grandiose, high-sounding and clamorous like Trumpets

Lunar Virgo: meticulous, vigilant and ceremonious like a Piano

Lunar Libra: courteous, delightful and heavenly like a Harp

Lunar Scorpio: grave, deep and powerful like a Cello

Lunar Sagittarius: cheerful, light and spirited like an Acoustic Guitar

Lunar Capricorn: rigorous, solemn and striking like an Organ

Lunar Aquarius: bizzare, unique and experimental like a Synthesizer

Lunar Pisces: pensive, angelic and ethereal like a Glass Harmonica

i recently hit 10k followers and to be honest i never expected to hit this number especially since all i ever do is cry over the boys. this warmed up the end of my 2016 and i definitely do not deserve this amount of love but i thank each and every one of you for always showing me so much love.  so i’m here with another follow forever because without these people my blog probably won’t even last for so long. 💕

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There is something melancholic about the expression of Capricorn, like they see everyone else blowing rainbow bubbles high into the sky and their own just fall flat to the ground, like the childful soul is lost a little. It is well known that Capricorn’s are often quick to grow up in childhood, reaching a state of maturity and understanding that many of us do not reach even into our twenties and thirties. But when you see a Capricorn smile, when you manage to make them laugh, it’s like their face smashes from ethereal glass into the cheekiest and most radiant of expressions.

ask-eris-morn  asked:

Ikora, I'm always cooking something in my cauldron, do you have any good recipes in any of your books?

Fallen Captain Cocktail

8 oz of Caydes moonshine
Neptunian ice (must be from Neptune)
Fallen Ether
Lemon

1. Fill glass with ice
2. Pour moonshine over
3. Sprinkle in some ether
4. Mix
5. Garnish with lemon or lime

Open your mouth. I want you to listen to me. Last night, I had a dream in which the two of us where drowning. Now taste me, am I salt?

In an old city, the metal frames of all buildings are corroding. The bricks are stained with rain, their mortar wet with lies– and the windows, still and square, have bags under their eyes. Old men and their wives sleep, still and square, unaware of each other’s shape– they sleep– no talk, no touch, their silence stirs, devoid of poetry– unmasked.

Children. They dream of children. Of homes and wombs and phantom limbs. Of broken toys and bags of marbles, spilling onto dusty floors. Of more– of more– of etherized frogs swimming in glass jars and dentures decorated with red. When they turn on their beds, they fill the house with noise (momentary life) and then– silence, still and square, again. The air forgets of time and lets fatigue seep into its denseness.

In the dream, I move from house to house, trying to find one that fits like a tailored dress, but I am never there– there is never one– I am always only a guest. Listen, I am scared. Every bed I’ve ever slept in has been a hospital bed: people only stay until they are strong enough to leave again. And then, it rebegins.

In another city, everyone’s skin is the color of sand. There is a girl, and the sparkle in her eyes is just a mirage. There is a boy, and he is thirsty. That is their waltz.

Listen– just listen– to me. In the dream, I am made of blue. Either the blue of touch or the blue of resentment, I cannot tell. We do not float, nor do we beg for air. The waves, like a witch, run their fingers through our hair and entrance us. Our soft-shelled arms, our laden eyelids, our heavy hips, our knees of thunder.

Cities. There are cities under this water. Long flowing legs of roads and street lamps like puppet strings. Rusty metal. Old men and their wives, gasping.

Children. There are no children. Only empty homes and emptier wombs. The water’s throat is coarse and dark and we are blue. We are blue and aching with thirst: haunted aquariums for lungs. 

Tell me that we are far away, that we are by the sea, by the lake while it rains, while it snows. Tell me there is somewhere else for us to be, for us to go– tell me that the dream ended, that my hands aren’t crinkled. Tell me that I am awake now. Take my tongue into your mouth and tell me that I am not salt. That you are not gone.