#drown tumblr live

[2xmiu]

get rid of tumblr live not everything has to be tiktok

[ominouspuff]

Gift-piece for @ghosts-of-rishi for some ideas we were playing around with. Fives discovering Echo is alive but possibly even more cursed than they already were.

They say there’s no good that can come from making deals with the Piper, but what Jango’s after is hardly what most people’d call ‘good’.

(Featuring Cursed!Jango, who went looking for a son in the wrong places, made a deal with a sea-god, double-crossed said sea-god, and now has three million cursed children.)

“Flesh and blood, you said,” the sea-witch taunted, gloated, condemned. And they are, they are — Jango’s split up, every bit of him, flesh and blood he never even had, divided between every blessed child — but no amount of clever carving of meat can account for a soul, and that’s the real curse. It is not Jango, not Jango alone, who is caged within the unnatural ribs and skull and pounding veins. “Watch them grow, fool; nurture them.” The sea-witch sentenced, and Jango does, he does; silently screaming, unable to separate himself from a single one, unable to sleep even when they sleep, too split up in too many inhuman ways to speak or think beyond wishing it was over… but they know he’s there, and speak to him sometimes. He can hear them cursing, over three million souls better left dead at the bottom of the seas, plucked and borrowed and wiped clean with new flesh sewn together. Why didn’t you leave us be? One is sobbing because he knows he should be dead and they say that’s as good as being at peace, and he is neither of those things.

His children are his spitting image, but they have old, old eyes and no memories of how they came to be that way, and there are three million of them — and not a soul that ever knew Jango Fett before — before — before — can explain it. He watches them all try through six million eyes.

[suntails]

totals ur drama

[megumi-fm]

.

[faceeeeee]

If you saw me get hyped over the robtop Tumblr account that may or may not be real reblogging the last art post, no you didn't/j

[svampira]

how to say the rosary

[gay-arsonists-lullaby]

Character introduction: Vincencia

• Vincencia -- meaning prevailing and triumphant,

• she/her, (very) aroace coded {and, well, she might be having a minor little gender crisis}

• a girl who, despite being on the brink of grief and rage induced madness, finds reason to live in a group of mythical deities she was always thought to fear after her village drowns her for “witchcraft” {but don't worry, I do find the concept of the ‘if I seek revenge against them I am no better than them’ trope quite infuriating, so yes, she will get a sickle and she will get to kill a dude, maybe even set something on fire. who am I kidding, of course she is going to set something on fire.}

• “ the river has remembered you ever since the day they drowned you in it.”

• all of this is going on in a folk-based fantasy realm (with slight horror elements), but fair warning, most of it is just vibes for now, sorry.

• once I post more of my OCs, you might notice that “dealing with horrific trauma through unconventional means” is a very common theme. does that say something about me as a person? no, of course not, what would even make you think that.

• “ here, we are all victims of the rules we were forced to live by.”

• DREAM GIRL EVIL - Florence and the Machine { “I am not your dream girl. I am the sudden shouting of crows when you enter a part of the forest you shouldn't have.” }

• “ ���I could fix him’ this, ‘I could make him worse’ that... good for you, I guess? I could make myself worse and by doing so become the only think he'll ever truly be afraid of. ”

• “if he puts his hands on you, cut them off.” {Kiki Rockwell vibes at their finest}

• SAME OLD ENERGY - Kiki Rockwell / BURN YOUR VILLAGE - Kiki Rockwell {you do not dance everyday with the fear of living in headlights, the hunted, the deer}

• oh to be a deer in the headlights

• “ a lone boy on the highway / you think "that could be me." / but you were born a woman and you'll never be that free.” - MILES TO GO

• LABOUR - Paris Paloma / AS GOOD A RESON - Paris Paloma

• “for if I'm going down / I guess I'll take you with me / screaming birds sound an awful lot like singing” - THE FRUITS

• “ your man-made Gods mean nothing in these woods.”

• “a woman's first blood doesn't come from between her legs but from biting her tongue. ” - The No You Never Listened To | Meggie Royer

• “herr God, herr Lucifer, beware beware / out of the ash I rise with my red hair / and I eat men like air. ” - Lady Lazarus | Sylvia Plath

• “ it seems you are going to have to kill me twice after all.”

• I am not trapped in my own body, I am trapped in the way people perceive it. I think I wish to not be perceived at all. {just a raging and formless cloud, really. honestly, same, Vince, same}

• “dear mother, dear father; this is just survival. ”

• “-the real monsters do not have fangs and serpents upon their head; they are your friends, the men you defend, the hunters of the women you've condemned.” - I'd Rather Be Turned Into Stone Than Ever Be Like You | T.M.

• “it goes / all my troubles on a burning pile / all lit up and I start to smile. ” - BURNING PILE

• BOTTOM OF THE RIVER - Delta Rey

• “I am someone who did not die when I should have died.” - Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides | Anne Carson

• WHICH WITCH - Florence and the Machine

• “isn't it strange, how we were taught to fear the witches, and not those who drowned them alive?”

[semisentient-entity]

it's a shitty night tonight and I am handling it horribly 😎

[josephslittledeputy]

WIP Wednesday!

Tagged by @detectivelokis @direwombat @inafieldofdaisies @clicheantagonist @socially-awkward-skeleton ty for keeping me in the loop lovelies!

Tagging @g0dspeeed @nonfunctioning-queer @marivenah @henbased

Posting a few things since I've missed a million wip wednesdays, so first up is the beginning of Willa's disastrous journey in part 1 of her dark au :)

“Ugh…” A groan forces itself through cracked, dry lips as she wakes to an insistent mumbling hum buzzing by her head. Her eyes flutter open and roam over her settings with an owlish blink. Numbly, she stares ahead, to the swaying headset that’s making so much noise, and finally to the vibrant orange ribbons, flapping in the wind outside. A few minutes tick by before her memory trickles in, syrupy slow, bringing with it an ice cold terror. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. She was hanging upside down with her seat belt being the only thing holding her in place. It takes another minute to realize that the ribbons outside were not ribbons at all, but flames. To make matters worse, there's a tiny waterfall of liquid, dripping down from the helicopter and splattering onto the ground into a puddle. The smell itself is indistinguishable: Gas. She looks over to her right to see Hudson, passed out, then in front of her to see Burke, also passed out, and then there was… Wait, where the hell was Joseph? “Amaaaziiiiing Graaaace.” The distant, haunting timber of his voice paralyzes her. Ironically, she can’t help but to think that this would be the part in the movie where the main character ran and hid from the killer. But she has no where to run and no where to hide, so she does the next best thing: A fumbling attempt to grab the headset dangling just out of reach, taunting her. “How sweet the sound…” She leans forward, brushing her fingertips against the headset and pushing it further away. “C’mon!” She makes another attempt and this time her hand secures a tight grip around it. With a bud of hope blossoming in her chest, she pulls it toward her, just a little closer- Joseph’s hand shoots into view like a striking viper, latching onto her wrist with a punishing grasp and her breath hitches in her throat. She doesn’t dare to turn her head, in fact she’s not even sure she’s able to. She’s frozen in place, watching him move into her line of view. “That saved… a wretch… liiiike me…” He tilts his head, watching her. Unblinking. Waiting. It’s only when she releases her death grip on the only lifeline out of here that he, in turn, lets go of her wrist. It's a short lived relief, as in the next moment he grabs her jaw, lips twitching in amusement now that he’s made sure she’ll be unable to look away from him. “I told you that God wouldn’t let you take me.” He taunts, using his other hand to blindly reach up and grab the headset behind him, pulling it close so he could talk into the mic. “Dispatch.” “Ohhh… my god.” Nancy responds with a relieved, shaky exhale of breath. The reply prompts a brief half smile, one that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “Everything is just fine here. No need to call anyone.” No. No, no, no. There was no fucking way- “Yes, Father. Praise be to you.” He drops the headset with a dramatic flourish then leans in with deadened expression, getting close enough that she could smell him this time: Dirt, sweat, ink, old books, and… something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He reaches up, slowly, as if approaching a cornered animal and she can’t help but to think, oh god, this is it. Bracing herself for the pain of long, pianist fingers penetrating squishy flesh, her eyes fly open in surprise when rough, callused thumbs brush across the apples of her cheeks instead. It’s a soft, soothing gesture, one she’s unfamiliar with. He wipes away stray tears that she hadn’t even realized were there and takes a moment to watch her. A second later, he’s leaning in, getting too close, forcing her to move her head back until it hits the headrest behind her. “No one is coming to save you.” He utters those final words before climbing out of the helicopter

Next up is Willa's (failed?) cleansing!

“Not this one.” He holds a hand out, stopping the peggie at her side and giving them a look before handing over the book he’d been reading from. His blue eyes—looking almost colorless in the moonlight—flick back to her and the water parts around him when he moves closer. “This ones not clean.” Then he lunges, pushing her down until she's submerged underneath the water again. She struggles, trying to gain purchase on anything, but the effort is futile and a few seconds later she’s already resurfacing. Her chest heaves with her gasps for air, her lips trembling from the cold temperature. “Y-you mm-muh-mother-f-fucker!” “Ahhhh!” He clicks his tongue with a smile, “Shhhh.” Expecting it this time, she holds her breath just before he pushes her under, the cold water shocking her system as if she were doing a polar plunge. She manages to grab hold of his shirt, pulling him with her and delighting in the blurry shock on his face when he stumbles and falls. He barely manages to catch himself and in using her to regain his balance, he sends her back slamming into the ground, driving the air from her lungs. Out of instinct, she opens her mouth and inhales water, gulping it down like she hasn’t had a drink in years. It gives her a bone chilling sense of dreadful déjà vu. Her frantic movements grow more sluggish the longer time passes until soon, she isn’t even struggling at all, but weakly smacking at whatever part of his body she could. But he doesn’t relent, he doesn’t let up, he keeps her there until her vision darkens at the edges. Then he keeps her there even longer, sharp fingers digging into her shoulders as he takes out his rage and frustration on her. She can’t do anything but exhale… and let go. . . . “N’aww, you really thought this was over? It’s only just begun…” . . . Someones pressing on her chest—one, two, three—then pushing air into her lungs. They repeat the motions again. One. Two. Three. Air forces its way into her lungs. She doesn’t respond. Again—one, two, three—more air. She responds this time, coughing and throwing up water that spills over her face. Sweet, sweet air fills her lungs and there’s a multitude of voices all mumbling by her ear. Her eyes lazily open, idly noting that her chest feels heavy, that it aches. Above her, with the moonlight behind him like a halo, she can only think that Joseph Seed looks just like an angel in that moment. Or maybe it’s the bliss—yeah, she’s sure it's the bliss. His lips were moving and the words don't register with her, but the relief was clear on his face. Raising a hand, he pushes wet strands of hair from her face and slowly, the words begin to fade in. “You’re not here by accident or by chance. You are here by the grace of God. You’ve been given a gift.” His lips pull up into a smile, not like the half ones that she’d seen earlier in the crash, but a real one. His hand smooths over her hair again, the motions setting her at ease, making her relax, disarming her. “Now it remains to be seen whether you choose to embrace it…” His voice lowers into a despairing whisper, ”Or to cast it aside.” Chirping crickets fill the silence while he continues to stare, memorizing her features.

[deadartista]

Losing interest in things which once my soul used to find comfort in,

Which once used to be an escape from the chaos feels strange and not home,

And the deafening silence of the mind feels so loud that I stop thinking.

[knife-red]

wow!!! tumblr mobile sucks more ass than ever

[the-punforgiven]

Always sucks to me seeing those people who like, developed a following with one specific game/franchise/whatever who've just like, clearly fallen out of love with it but are still engaging and making content for it since they're 'the [whatever thing] guy' but you can clearly tell they're bitter and sour about it since all their content is just sad and complaining and shit and it's just like

Dude, if you're not having fun you can like, do something else

You know that, right?

[gaymers-and-froggers]

"you would tell me if something was wrong, right?"

No I wouldn't, I told you that I have tried to kill myself and yet when I started councilling you only told me to talk about my sexuality. You have repeatedly taken away my only safe spaces because I talked about my actual issues and I can't trust you about these things anymore

[persephonesdesk]

So I've been suspended and brought back on a verbal but apparently the general manager is allowed to insult and bully and cast fear and me saying I don't understand what's happening while he's screaming at me for 30 mins about transferring me or firing me is ok. So yea they have issued another letter to have another hearing, atleast it's not a tribunal to fire me with no prior notice. Nothing I do let's me feel ok. I feel like screaming that's wrong. I feel like crying that's wrong. I feel suffocated that's wrong. I am heart broken over a job that hates me, that sees me as a imposition that stops them from bringing a relative in that they would rather. But would that person actually work and care for people like me?

[frog-songs]

you have sailed this sea in good company, if only at times that of the wood and the water beneath you; the waves shift, the colors the creatures the climes around, the boards are replaced as they fail, the face you see reflected blinks back a stranger.

stranger seas, a stranger self, a stranger shore, waiting; the world whole-cloth changed.

it does not matter where you go, or how long the journey keeps you. you will kneel down returned to the feet of all that you love, looking up, and all that you will recognize are the eyes always searching for someone left behind you, how you, too, will be forever hunting for a land a heart a shadow a home that, wherever you may roam, can no longer be found, only remembered, and mourned.

is the essential piece the shape, the memory, the history, the solidity, simple and steady, under your feet?

you have sailed this sea in good company: your own.

it may be that all one needs to learn to keep something is: hold fast. outlast the thought that the sprouting of the seed the falling of the leaves the mast cracking is above all else a loss.

to change is only giving over to one day, and the next, the currents toss shells and ships and men all the same, sailor, how happy to meet you wave-worn and wind-bent, come finally to ground again.

sailor when the journey ends on a newly familiar shore sailor when you sail no more the sea will remain past the edge of the world the ships will bear sailors out to warp and splinter and dance in far-flung lands sailor still you’re known a sailor, and there, the shape endures.

[waterboardingwizard]

finally finally finally