☠▐ ᴮᵁᵀ ᴼᴺᴱ ᶠᴼᴼᴸˑ

[dcbicki]

willabeth appreciation week

↳ day two: scenes

[dcbicki]

Elizabeth ‘don’t fuck with my man because I’ll fucking remember you did’ Swann

#never forgive #never forget

[causclost-blog]

Greyjoy.

          ‘  don’t know it’s gonna cost a  fortune  to sell your  SOUL.  ‘

          ‘  ------------  AND IF THE SOUL  is the only part left of me?  ’      Cynicism coated in the innate blatant honesty of a boy lost too early,      ‘  Barely.  ’

[dcbicki]

William ‘sassy little shit’ Turner

[causclost-blog]

‘ﾟ･ ☸┃ Night.

       Doleful cries winnow into the Captain’s quarters. They lift from the timber boards, permeate faded panes, and unfurl from keys resting peacefully alow their hands. Silence has one keeper. Not the keenest ear can detect its presence, its moon mad gait and eyes blacker than the abyss. Shadows bleed from his hollow bone structure. Should It cant its head, Darkness will gaze upon a stripped skull. The closer It lurks, the oilier the black filling his eyes appears. An obsidian-crusted, arachnoid claw skates around those implacable pits; teases exploring their depths to pluck his eyes out like seed pearls. Then it retracts. 

         Nearly a foot of dank air festers between them. It can taste slime, rot, and years yet does not shy from him. Commotion on the deck lures its binary black hole system up. It listens, stiller than dead space as the last remnants of humanity are lashed from his crew. Their pain does not resonate, yet Darkness cards its ‘fingers’ through Will’s hair – it’s damp, always damp and glazed in algae or seaweed. The dark green film slides under a sickled talon, but the Void does not flinch or scoff. Full lips pout as the shadows mantle behind It, its brow worries, and then It murmurs, “Would you?” 

          THE DUTCHMAN’S GARGANTUAN AFT END IS NOT LOST IN THE GREAT SWELL  having suddenly climbed for the sky,  but betwixt timbre deck boards spills irritated sea foam.  Above them,  the quarter deck creaks.  This ship speaks with its inhabitants,  crawls like an insect into the brain.  William,  after years,  no longer winces as the vessel screams and heralds merciless death - but watches as darkness paints upon company’s whetted countenance.

          Talons in his hair dance close to a scalp he does not think would bleed for its injury.  He has no heart to thud within the cage of his chest;  there is no pulse Shadow’s fingers might pick up ‘neath the skin.  He does not exhale nor catch his breath within his throat,  but,  uselessly,  he blinks.  The salt remains in the corner of his eye.  She is granted great wings out of the burgeoning umbra;  a mantle stretches far over the living-dead space,  and his lips part,      ‘  I do not know.  ’      Blatant honesty,  though stinging,  feels an old friend,      ‘  If I have been saved or condemned by this curse,  I do not know.  I had thought myself my own jailer - but,  then what of you?  ’

[crowninglaurel-blog]

Spring Awakening Lyrics Roleplay Ask Meme

❛ All that’s known in history, in science — overthrown. ❜ ❛ You doubt them, and soon they bark and hound you. ❜ ❛ All they say is  ‘trust in what is written. ❜ ❛ Wars are made, and somehow that is wisdom. ❜ ❛ Thought is suspect and money is their idol. ❜ ❛ And nothing is okay unless it’s scripted in their Bible. ❜ ❛ But I know there’s so much more to find just in looking through myself, and not at them. ❜ ❛ Still, I know to trust my own true mind. ❜ ❛ Name the stars and know their dark returning. ❜ ❛ Just watch me. ❜   ❛ God, I dreamed there was an angel who could hear me through the wall. ❜ ❛ This is so not life at all. Help me out, out of this nightmare. ❜ ❛ Just give it time, kid. ❜ ❛ Let me teach you how to handle all the sadness in your soul. ❜ ❛ It’s the bitch of living. ❜ ❛ God, my whole life’s like some test. ❜ ❛ It’s like, just kiss some ass, man. Then you can screw ‘em all. ❜ ❛ It’s the bitch of living and living in your head. ❜ ❛ It’s the bitch of living and sensing God is dead. ❜ ❛ It’s the bitch of living and knowing this is it. ❜ ❛ God, is this it? This can’t be it. ❜ ❛ Oh God, what a bitch! ❜ ❛ It’s almost like loving. Sad as that is. ❜ ❛ It’s like I’m your lover or more like your ghost. ❜ ❛ I spend the day wondering what you do, where you go. ❜ ❛ I try and just kick it but what can I do. ❜ ❛ It’s chill in the wind but it’s warm in your arms. ❜ ❛ I love when you do stuff that’s rude and so wrong. ❜   ❛ I ride on the rush, all the hopes, all the dreams. ❜ ❛ I may be neglecting the things I should do. ❜ ❛ You. You. You. ❜ ❛ No more whispering anymore. ❜ ❛ Touch me — just like that. ❜ ❛ God, that’s so nice. ❜ ❛ No more weeping anymore. ❜ ❛ Touch me, all silent. ❜ ❛ Tell me, please, ‘all is forgiven’. ❜ ❛ Touch me — just try it. ❜ ❛ I’ll love you right. ❜ ❛ Just too unreal, all this. ❜ ❛ Haven’t you heard the word of your body? ❜ ❛ Haven’t you heard the word of my wanting? ❜ ❛ Oh, I’m gonna be wounded. ❜ ❛ Oh, I’m gonna be your wound. ❜ ❛ Oh, I’m gonna bruise you. ❜ ❛ Oh, you’re gonna be my bruise. ❜ ❛ Watching his/her/their/your world slip through my fist. ❜ ❛ Haven’t you heard the word – how I want you? ❜ ❛ I wanna be strong. I want the world to find out. ❜ ❛ Truly it touched me — it did — that you would think of me as a friend. ❜ ❛ Uh huh…uh huh…uh huh…well, fine. ❜ ❛ Not like it’s even worth the time. ❜   ❛ But still, you know, you wanted more. ❜ ❛ Sorry, it won’t change — been there before. ❜ ❛ A thousand bucks, I’m, like, scott free. ❜ ❛ By now you know the score. ❜ ❛ You’re gonna crash and burn. ❜ ❛ You toe the line. ❜ ❛ They’re not my home, not anymore. ❜ ❛ In any case, I assure you that your present misfortune will have no effect on my feelings for you. ❜ ❛ Okay, so nothing’s changed — heard that before. ❜ ❛ I am unchangingly, and most fondly yours. ❜ ❛ Just fuck it, right? Enough, that’s it. ❜ ❛ Another day of utter shit. ❜ ❛ Flip on a switch, and everything’s fine. ❜ ❛ But there’s nowhere to hide from these bones, from my mind. ❜ ❛ Awful sweet to be a little butterfly. Just wingin’ over things, and nothing deep inside. ❜ ❛ I don’t do sadness. ❜ ❛ And who can say what dreams are? ❜ ❛ And who can say what we are? ❜ ❛ Can’t help the itch to touch, to kiss to hold ____ once again. ❜ ❛ All things ____ never did are left behind. ❜ ❛ When we look back, thirty years from now, tonight will seem unbelievably…beautiful. ❜ ❛ I thought perhaps, we’d only talk — ❜ ❛ So, are you sorry we…? ❜ ❛ I love you, _____, as I have never loved anyone! ❜ ❛ Oh, you’re gonna be wounded. ❜ ❛ Oh, you’re gonna be my wound. ❜ ❛ Oh you’re gonna bruise too. ❜ ❛ Oh, I’m gonna be your bruise. ❜ ❛ Such a shame. Such a sin. ❜ ❛ Those you’ve known and lost, still walk behind you. ❜ ❛ Those you’ve pained may carry that still with them. ❜ ❛ You’ve left them far behind. ❜ ❛ There’s a way through this. ❜ ❛ There’s so much more to find — another dream, another love you’ll hold. ❜ ❛ On your way you are not alone. ❜

[mockingjaykatniss2]

willabeth appreciation week | day four: colour ► cyan

[greelin]

but are vital organs REALLY vital? like i’m no doctor but do i really need them in there? just a thought

[causclost-blog]

‘ﾟ･ ☸┃ NIGHT.

    The breeze, briny and vaporous, breathes through his damp clothing – through his bones. It winnows throughout the vaulted cabin, soughing an off-key, doleful hymn from the algae-laden organ. Despair exhausts from the old pipes. Without physically treading, the Darkness lurks closer. Obsidian-caked claws dredge up fine lines of dark green gunk as their distance slowly eradicates. 

      Its shoulders adopt a demure slant, though the Abyss does not coddle him, “And thus,” every fidget is jolty, as if It cannot quite grasp the human body’s fine motor skills; “You’ve lost cause to fear me…?!” 

     The Void spares no smile for him. Lidless binary black holes yawn ever-wider. Stars do not twinkle beyond them. There’s no heavenly glow, no glimmer or glint from their singularities. The Dutchman is one wrong word from annihilation, from the ever-blooming black that blots out his window shaped like a shark tooth. 

          HE ANGERS ETERNAL NIGHT WITH BRAZEN WORDS,  and though a dead farriers countenance twitches not,  spine climbs higher,  rigid like a ship’s mizzen mast.  The Dutchman groans in apparent anguish,  and every dosing of slime upon its weathered timber frame seems to tense.  It’s captain raises his hand,  a slow offering of peace,      ‘  ------------  And I know my place.  ’      He atones,  before dropping his salt-scathed hands back to sodden wood.

          ‘  You could annihilate this entire ship,  and the ocean with it  ---  and half of my crew would probably thank you for it.  ’      He stiffens,  as though a chill he no longer feels creeps up his spine.  If he were living still,  the hairs on the back of William’s neck might stand on their ends.  He exhales needlessly,  allows a glimmer of the unknown to settle in his hollow-framed eyes.  He shows her his fear behind his pupils,  and it is never-ending,  and non-stop.  The man does not sleep,  he does not drown,  he does not wither and fade in the sun either.  He cannot feel the kiss of the breeze nor recall the cry of gulls.  The fear is all that remains.  He blinks and,  almost in silent obedience,  ducks his head.

          ‘  I don’t know what would become of us,  but some would thank you.  ’

[dcbicki]

willabeth appreciation week

↳ day one: films

[causclost-blog]

‘ﾟ･ ☸┃JACK.

‘        well ,     you’re  very  welcome  then .        ’               a  weary ,     mirthless  smile .     the  pirate  wretch ,     the  honourless  inside  him  wants  them  all  to  know  that  their  actions  are  mutual  ;     they’ve  saved  his  life ,     he’s  saved  theirs .     but  then ,  as  recently  discovered  ,     he  has  a  dozen  minds ,     thousands  of  devils   RAGING   in  a  scattered  brain .     they  can  be  a  whole  crew  that  sails  a ship  that’s  run  aground  yet  none  is  like  the  other .     the  cherry  on  top  of  the  lost  mess  that  is  his  sanity  comes  out  of  the  LOCKER  itself .               ‘     no  place  you  want  to  be  pondering  about  like  you  do  with  that  furrowed  brow  of  yours ,     lad .     stop  that .        ’        

HE’S CAUGHT.  HIS FINGERS HAVE MOMENTARILY burrowed in sea-sodden timber with the zeal of ten small termites.  Will releases his hold,  glances fleetingly toward the burgeoning rain cloud above their head in some feigned display of over-exasperation,      ‘  It doesn’t matter.  ’      He agrees,  sloping down his attention until it pinions Jack ‘neath it,      ‘  No place we’ll be hurrying back to,  i’d imagine.  Our heading?  Or,  ’      There’s still a boy’s face alow salt spray and grazed cheeks;  it glints ephemerally,      ‘  Do we sail under the command of Captain Barbossa?  ’

[dcbicki]

potc meme: [1/3] relationships ☠ will and elizabeth

elizabeth, i should have told you every day from the moment i met you… i love you. 

[causclost-blog]

Are we loving my hellwife?? You're my favorite writer no matter which character you take on. Your expositions, emotions, and atmospheres are stunning. You're beyond gifted like to the point that I prefer all of your portrayals over their canon ( except Ollie bc Ollie's a real person duh ). I love you more than anyone in the world and love to see that your beautiful sons are thriving. You deserve the stars I love you 💋💋💋💋💋❤️❤❤💕

CAST ASIDE  —  you’re literally the biggest sap i’ve ever met and i refuse to condone it and yet,  yeah,  i’ll just,  lay here,  on you,  it’s no biggie,  don’t mind me.  there is literally nothing about your blog,  your writing,  your everything,  that isn’t art to me.  jane is yours she’s all yours,  and i still falter a lil’ bit when it comes to seeing her so????  alive in her characterisation.  look at what you’ve done with not only your writing but with you,  you,  you,  i’m your garbage can,  ily.  xoxoxoxox 💕💕💕

[causclost-blog]

Hi your writing and portrayal is really great ok that is all

CAST ASIDE  —  this is???  so nice of you???  asdfgtr i follow you over on my Oliver too and your creativity is like all the way out there and into space,  idk how you do it.  thank-you,  lovely!!!  xoxo

[bloo-my]

[causclost-blog]

‘ﾟ･ ☸┃JACK.

‘        william ,        ‘              a  breath  is  taken  for  the  matter - of -  factly  exclamation  of  the  man’s  name .               ’        the  locker  is  a  special  kind  of   HELL  which ,     quite  frankly ,     no  one  would  wish  to  even  enter  nor  be  wished  upon  anyone  by  me .        ‘               imagining  an  eternal  stay ,     at  that ,     (   curse  turner  for  bringing  that  up   )     makes  the  hair  on  his  neck  stand  at  attention .     eyes  narrow  at  the  other ,     paranoidal ,     challenging ,     his  upper lip  twitches .               ‘        are  we  expecting  a  ‘thank  you’ …     perhaps     ?        ‘

‘  IF YOU’RE LOOKING TO SURPRISE ME.  ’      JESTS HE,  a slight cant of his head to allude to humour as he watches white horses dance against the ship’s keel below.  The abyssal nothingness of Davy Jones’ Locker presses quietly beneath his skin,  fleetingly nudges the flesh from bone before setting it all back into place.  Will bristles his faint discomfort,  jostling shoulders rid him of the cloak of melancholy,      ‘  No,  ’      He redefines,  skating fingertips against gradually splintering timber,      ‘  I wouldn’t be so foolish.  It feels a habit now to face death for your sake,  I’d be lost without the threat,  frankly.  ’

[causclost-blog]

‘ﾟ･ ☸┃ELIZABETH.

                   Fingers intertwined, granting her a sense of love and BELONGING. Her head was lowered, and the soft smile widened. The men in her life, was it her father or the ever-admiring Norrington, they had always seen her as a person she was not. The perfect daughter, who would marry a prosperious, a prestigious suitor of her own degree. The woman with a certain intellect to keep him entertained, yet who stayed home and bore his sons. William, he had been different. An assumed orphan, a blacksmith’s prentice;  &  yet he had understood her more, still grasped her better than most. For that, alongside the promise of FREEDOM, Elizabeth would be forever grateful.       ❛   Neither do I see you. You belong here, it is very clear. You flourished, and I am in love with the smile on your face, the one you make, hoping it will go by unnoticed, whenever you look at the ocean.   ❜

THE BLOOD OF A PIRATE SWELLS ‘NEATH HIS SKIN,  and with every press of oceanic air,  every tug of the salt in his lungs,  it all seems to waken so.  Such that which she ostensibly sees when the morning glows orange and sets the horizon on fire,      ‘  In some sense,  I suppose,  It is a part of me.  ’       Agreement is reticent,  caught upon his tongue as though it were a secret,  but countenance is soft for her;  his grazed cheeks lift as he grants Elizabeth the modicum gesture of a smile;  that which she says she loves.  Aqueous halo gifts the crown of her head,  shines a pallid golden light into her hair,      ‘  It was never time at sea that I wished for,  only your safe return.  I would have given anything.  And now we both stand,  anew,  it feels.  ’