Razor-winged-butterfly - Mayhem

Francisco Goya and Gustave Doré Gothic Hatchings

writing tip:

if you push buttons on a keyboard, letters will appear on the screen. and with that power you can do anything

Physics moodboard

Ye imma make moodboards for all my classes

quiver lover

Re-blog this if:

- you’re gay - can read - support gay people - want to hold a match between your fingers as you wander the halls of an ancient castle because it’s your only source of light amidst the ghosts of people long past - are an antelope - or want a chocolate bar.

No one will know which applies.

Edgar Allan Poe by Gina Iacob.

A relationship between a man and grammar can be so deeply personal...

Indian Dark Academia - Delhi (mystery academia)

You spend most of your summer afternoons roaming around the monuments, marveling over the minds of people long gone. you find an old vendor outside Qutub Minar, seated with large stacks of books in front of her. Secrets Of Delhi, the cover of the one hidden beneath the rest says. The vendor mumbles its price and you ignore the chill you feel crawling down your spine when you catch her smiling at you.

The dim light of your candle flickers as you flip through the pages of the book the vendor sold to you. The moon hangs low in the sky, as if intent to see what mysteries you'll unveil. What the Sultans tried to hide, stories buried by time, dangerous lores that might be true; you feel the words sear into your eyes. You brush them off as fictional gibberish as you get ready for bed but you couldn't shake off the feeling that you're being watched. The shadows in the corner of your room shift as if in confirmation.

You vaguely remember your history professor mentioning a mad astrologer who claimed there was a "disastrous" planetary alignment during 1757. Exactly a century before the First War of Independence. You cannot help but think of him now as you run your hand over the walls of Jantar Mantar.

You're strolling through the Red Fort and you find undecipherable inscriptions on a pillar of the Diwan-i-khas. You let your fingers trace the letters as you realize that something strange happened here.

The voices of a hundred sufi saints ring in your ears and your dreams are haunted with memories that aren't yours. You catch glimpses of harems and princesses dancing. A sword dripping with blood and a body buried in the hush of the night. Ruins of deserted mughal palaces where you could still hear the voice of a wailing woman. Delhi's beautiful but she's got her secrets.

"A flaw in humanity, the compulsion to be unique, which is at war with the desire to belong to a single unidentifiable sameness."

- Olivie Blake , the atlas six

this assignments so hard i can’t even romanticize doing it