you're so hateful. @momstrocities - Tumblr Blog

#MOMSTROCITIES. duo writing blog for maleficent and her daughter, mal. original lore, modern + dark fairytale settings, minimally drawing from mixed media and canons. || PRESENT THEMES & INSPIRATION: halsey’s if i can’t have love i want power album, sharp objects (book and series), feminine rage & feral women, the sins of my mother, generational trauma, and more. [ rules below the cut / individual stat pages located at respective sideblogs. ]

INFORMATION. ⁽ ¹ ⁾ MAL’S SB. ⁽ ² ⁾ MALEFICENT’S SB. ⁽ ³ ⁾

#pinned.#rio. she/they. bisexual. 26.#prev. malisent & rottcore. est. 2017 & rebooted 2020 + 2022.

my existence is a burden and the evidence is in my mother's eyes when i ask for band aids and permission slip signatures but i want to be clear it was never a no just a tortured yes so i always had all that i asked for i just stopped asking a long time ago around the same time i brought my knees permanently to my chest because there is not enough matter in the universe to fit the space i require

#just a tortured yes just a tortured yes just a tortured yes #when you want something your whole life and the only thing you ever get is spit in the mouth #there’s something so fucking brutally real about the line from sharp objects #’a child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort’#that’s mal through and through #i have big sad generational trauma feelings today

momstrocities

WHY DO YOU NEED LOVE SO BADLY [ … ] bet she was brutal and bratty / bet that she’ll never be happy [ … ] sabotage the things i love the most / camouflage so i can feed the lie that i’m composed

#NO BUT LIKE I AM CRYING #i’m always crying!!!!!#why do you need love to badly!!!!!!! bet that she’ll never be happy!!!!!!

i have never been pretty. i have never been a thing that’s attracted more than spit and taunts and hatred. it’s a curse being me, this lonely wretch who has only ever wantedwantedwanted. mother spits and taunts and hates me, she sowed that seed when i was young, and sometimes i see her in the mirror and i get it. i would hate me, too. i do hate me.

❝ sure, ❞ says the witch. the tone is flat and full of such disinterest, they could hardly be considered present. but those gleaming verdant eyes are locked onto @blackfoe, attention presented. she slips into this conversation and wilts under its context. ❝ what’s that they say? it never lasts or some shit. ❞ mal picks at her fingernails with their teeth, the black polish sticking to ivory, left behind like rot when she grins. ❝ but i wouldn’t know anything about that. takes me three hours every day to look this good. ❞

☾ SPELLED : " i think beauty is a deceit. "

#blackfoe #tbt.#what she says: to look this good #what she feels: i am ugly #and that's on 'i was bullied my whole life and my self esteem is permanently shit!'

manic mal has freshly dyed hair while depressed mal is looking washed out <3

#that colored hair looking bright as fuck? you know she's in her god complex era!#dull and lifeless? she's looking for a bridge!

mal is in fact the Vanquisher of Evil but she is also a lil teeny tiny crybaby

#the duality of them <3

moosings-deactivated20231019

#RANDOM QUOTES ON TUMBLR PART 2 : ( some triggering content may be present ! change pronouns to suit. )

i was devoured by regrets, fears, fatigue and love.

i imagine that you are able to love me enough to desire to come back for me.

but what does that mean, protect, it’s only a word.

since you like me, or you love me, i must be okay.

i don’t know if i’m real when i’m not being touched.

i just think about the goodness of you as a person.

the most ordinary thing about human beings is not violence or greed but love and care.

that is absolutely out of the question.

history has cut our throats.

everyone seeks a home, a refuge.

i love going on walks by myself.

i’m lying, yes, but why do you force me to give you a linear explanation?

i ask god to send a swordsman and god says ‘look at your hands’.

i don’t want just anyone to share life and myself with me.

no god, no idol, nothing except the burning pain of love.

someone in hell is sitting beside you on the train.

i love you as if you were god.

how i’d love to kill you.

i loved my friend.

people get hurt here.

months pass. years pass, and despair bites into me. i can feel it gnawing.

will you go on loving, or not?

at times failure is very necessary for the artist.

i’m all blood again.

i’ve forgotten, i’ve forgotten everything, and i don’t want to remember.

i am sorry that i cannot say anything more comforting.

all that might have been. exhausts me.

t’s the last day of somebody’s childhood.

the gift of life and the gift of death are equivalent.

there should be just one safe place in the world.

i want to live to see the future.

it seems like fate, doesn’t it?

i know that what happened between us was just an event and not a symbol—just something that happened.

can’t you love me a little? just a little bit?

you’ve just got to work, that’s that.

i love my life, and i’m excited to have it back again.

he looked like an angel, speaking of wisdom.

yes, i thought that’s how it should be.

i won’t tell you how i survived the wreckage.

i sometimes feel like a post standing in a raging sea.

i am not yet as honest with myself as i should be.

i am still ashamed of myself.

people do return to you, you live with them inside you until a few years later they are back with you again.

after this, you will always carry a bit of me, and i will always carry a bit of you, even if we both forget this conversation.

i’m a ghost that everyone can see.

you’re further gone than me.

i have huge respect for my own silence.

if i have to explain my reasoning, argue rigorously, i get agitated, confused—everything seems to fly out of my head.

in fairytales, one does what one wants, and in reality, one does what one can.

i’m sorry, but i can’t explain.

i might betray myself and tell everything i dread.

if we go down into ourselves we find that we possess exactly what we desire.

i am not very good at speaking, in public or private.

what i want is your heart.

but was that what i wanted?

i have everything clear in my mind to start with, and yet it’s as if, after a few words, something gives way.

i think beauty is a deceit.

i always come home. always.

there’s nothing more to say.

i want to know what it means to survive something.

i, too, admire people who have that ability, and i’ve made an effort to accept the fact that i don’t.

the moon is the deity of the mind.

sometimes the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take between two deep breaths.

maybe, in the face of abandonment, we are all the same.

i kept on with clenched teeth, i said to myself: it will end.

but i know about suffering; if that helps. i know that it ends.

we’ll always be in each other’s lives and we’ll always have this feeling between us.

i want the blood running through my fingers to make a delicate sound.

in my heart i have a scream, always, waiting.

past a certain point, you stop being able to go home.

i’ve never been afraid of loneliness because i’ve never felt the need to justify my feelings to myself.

people fall down and stay down.

sometimes when i get really sad and depressed, you know, i lie in bed and think about you.

beliefs aren’t good or bad; they serve only to bring order, at least momentarily, to our anguish.

i can’t live as i once did.

there was longing in me that felt heavy as lead.

there’ll be no hymns to our glory.

learning so much is what got me here.

you don’t show your love and care by putting what you love behind a fence.

i do feel like a failure.

you think i can’t tame that?

and i think i’m beginning to learn finally what everything has been trying to teach me.

reality is not entirely real to me, and that is why i can’t get down to doing things.

it’s so hard to see the point sometimes, when the things in life i think are meaningful turn out to mean nothing, and the people who are supposed to love me don’t.

when i try to picture for myself what a happy life might look like, the picture hasn’t changed very much since i was a child.

#specify maleficent or mal <3

WHY DO YOU NEED LOVE SO BADLY [ … ] bet she was brutal and bratty / bet that she’ll never be happy [ … ] sabotage the things i love the most / camouflage so i can feed the lie that i’m composed

#can’t stop thinking about this album #never over it #so so so mal

☽ 𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖆𝖈.

lavender, lavender, how a garden blooms and grows within; all the colours of her sunset, purples and reds and pinks. isaac blinks in the light of her spectrum, heart so wildly exposed with its tha-thump staccato. a passing thought is spared to god in thanks — she is no wolf. his distress remains hidden, bar for the blush spreading down, down, down his chest.

bad dreams, she says, as if he hadn’t made a joke in passing. ( have you been paying attention now? have you been listening? )

‘ — oh. ’ the floor sure is interesting. so, too, are her perfectly manicured fingers as she presses the prize into his loosened grasp. peonies climb up his skin now, petals wrapping around his throat like a threat.

she’s lying. he hears it in the skip of a heartbeat.

isn’t that interesting?

but unlike his fifteen-year-old self, he’s developed a modicum of people skills these days. where he might’ve exposed her in the past, now he catches her secrets and files them away; something precious to be looked at in the quietness of solitude.

‘ thanks. ’ his smile is stunned. there’s sunflowers in the way she tucks her hair behind her ears, and tulips in the shape of her pretty words. tulips have always been his favourite. ‘ is there, uh, some kind of special way to make it? ’

see here: a dragon which has always guarded their heart, its more precious treasure. the wolf is forced to climb barbed wire fences, walk through fire to reach her, except lately she extinguishes those flames before he even draws near. see here: a dragon who has always, always starved for love.

maybe that’s why they find each other, again. maybe that’s why she clings. there is a kinship to isaac that mal has found comforting ( i am not the only one, i am not alone, i am not lonely if you are here ). and when harm has always been the comfort, softness grows her weary.

he sees tulips in her, flowers pretty and blooming, and he will be the first, she thinks. when you have been spat on your whole life, it is only doubt that returns such niceties. there is malice in every exchange. mal wants to believe he means it, but they also know better. you see, her mother despised her, even when she was faking otherwise for the cameras.

❝ nope, ❞ comes the flat of her voice, so he can’t focus on that youthful flush of her cheeks. if he sees the illusion of barbed wire, there’s no way of breaking the heart hidden behind it. ❝ i like sugar in mine. the valerian root is bitter. ❞ their pert nose scrunches with a smothered smile. ❝ you can steep it a few times before you’ll have to toss it. i get about four or five good cups from one bag. ❞ she waves her hand dismissively.

#moonhurts #MOONHURTS 01.#tbt.#i'm already emo don't look at me

moosings-deactivated20231019

#AMERICAN GODS : ( some triggering content may be present ! change pronouns to suit. )

how was the funeral?

normally people who die stay in their graves,

there is a secret that the casinos possess, a secret they hold and guard and prize, the holiest of their mysteries.

most people do not gamble to win money, after all, although that is what is advertised, sold, claimed, and dreamed.

i believe that all men are just overgrown boys with deep problems communicating.

that is the eternal folly of man; to be chasing after the sweet flesh, without realizing that it is simply a pretty cover for the bones.

the important thing to understand about american history is that it is fictional, a charcoal-sketched simplicity for children, or the easily bored.

at night, you’re rubbing yourself against worm food. no offense meant.

you have no idea what i can believe.

gods die, and when they truly die they are unmourned and unremembered.

some grifts last forever, others are swallowed soon enough by time and by the world.

i don’t like you.

i’m alive. i’m not dead. remember?

none of this can actually be happening.

if they lie to us, then nothing can be trusted.

i can believe things that are true, and i can believe things that aren’t true, and i can believe things where nobody knows if they’re true or not.

they die like men, after all.

this is a bad land for gods.

damn straight i’m a hustler.

we don’t need anyone to believe in us.

it’s going to be a white christmas.

they only tell the truth, and the truth is not what people want to hear.

i’ve come too far for more lies.

i’m going now. it will be better if i go.

i’m cold.

in the unlikely event of my death, you will hold my vigil.

you’re dead, babe.

like i said, don’t piss off those bitches in the airports, or they’ll haul your sorry ass back here before you can spit.

i have as many names as there are winds.

it’s a sacrifice, of sorts.

one day every soldier in the empire has to shower in the blood of your sacrificial bull.

you work for me now.

if hell is other people, then purgatory is airports.

if you just hang in there, someday they’re going to have to let you out.

that boy was one lucky son of a virgin.

i used to think that too. now i’m not so sure.

you’re not so prejudiced anymore.

life is a game, a cruel joke.

i mean, it’s not such a big deal.

i’ll work for you.

so what are you? a two-bit con artist?

you people talk about the living and the dead as if they were two mutually exclusive categories. life and death are different sides of the same coin.

that is merely the easy lie that gets them through the enormous, ever-open, welcoming doors.

you see, i am the only one of us who brings in any money.

if it makes you more comfortable, you could simply think of it as metaphor.

all we have to believe with is our senses, the tools we use to perceive the world: our sight, our touch, our memory.

it all depends on where you are.

i need someone to look out for my best interests.

it’s easy, there’s a trick to it, you do it or you die.

we are not friends.

anyone who says that sex is overrated just hasn’t done it properly.

either you’ve been forgotten, or you’re scared you’re going to be rendered obsolete.

you should know that when we’re done, i’ll be gone.

if you piss me off, i’ll be gone.

if you move and act in the material world, then the material world acts on you.

he’s hustling you, he’s a hustler.

some things may change; people however, people stay the same.

the best thing—perhaps the only good thing—about being in prison was a feeling of relief.

even for my kind, pain still hurts.

come and sit by me.

i’m impressed, you have class.

isn’t she the one who killed her children?

if we’re still loved and remembered, something else a whole lot like us comes along and takes our place and the whole damn thing starts all over again.

we just keep going anyhow, it’s what we do.

i can lie to them, tell them what they want to hear.

there’s never been a true war that wasn’t fought between two sets of people who were certain they were in the right.

i got a son, and you remind me of him.

would you believe that all the gods that people have ever imagined are still with us today?

people only fight over imaginary things.

it’s easier to kill people, when you’re dead yourself.

we have some unresolved issues to address.

i shall make sure that your needs are adequately taken care of.

it would distress me equally, my dear.

we don’t always remember the things that do no credit to us.

you want to talk about it?

ideas are more difficult to kill than people, but they can be killed, in the end.

all your questions can be answered, if that is what you want.

first, you go down on your knees. then i hit you a blow with it, so you don’t get up again.

if we do not believe, then still we cannot travel in any other way than the road our senses show us; and we must walk that road to the end.

people gamble to lose money.

if i win, i get to knock your brains out, with a sledgehammer.

too much talking these days. talk talk talk. this country would get along much better if people learned how to suffer in silence.

i can believe anything.

they are gone, all gone, but their names and their images remain with us.

there are accounts that, if we open our hearts to them, will cut us too deeply.

which path should i take? which one is safe?

if i tell you what i’ve learned you won’t think that i’m a nut?

it’s what people do.

if you didn’t have a death sentence, then prison was, at best, only a temporary reprieve from life.

you hurt people who need to be hurt.

it’s not easy to believe.

the people continue to suffer in numbers that themselves are numbing and meaningless.

is that you?

so, you’re praying?

i told you i would tell you my names. this is what they call me.

fiction allows us to slide into these other heads, these other places, and look out through other eyes.

i can see nothing romantic in a death sentence.

i want to rest now.

candy really did taste better when i was a kid.

religions are places to stand and look and act, vantage points from which to view the world.

i think i’ll stay right here for now.

religions are, by definition, metaphors, after all.

the really dangerous people believe they are doing whatever they are doing solely and only because it is—without question—the right thing to do, and that is what makes them dangerous.

gods are great, but the heart is greater.

once you learn your answers, you can never unlearn them.

which way would you walk—the way of hard truths or the way of fine lies?

i want nothing. no heaven, no hell, no anything. just let it end.

i got to tell you, you don’t look too bright.

i guess you’re going to ask what i’m doing here.

i was thinking more of how you died.

we may not die easy and we sure as hell don’t die well, but we can die.

for the most part, history is uninspected, unimagined, unthought, a representation of the thing, and not the thing itself.

what i say is, a town isn’t a town without a bookstore.

keep safe. i would not like to hear that you were gone for good.

the rest of them know what they are.

be brave.

have you ever looked at peas in a pod? i mean, really looked at them?

the quickest way is sometimes the longest.

you’re not dead, but i’m not sure you’re alive, either. not really.

lucky guy, he could fall into a cesspit and come up smelling like roses.

#specify maleficent or mal <3

vaememes

HALSEY’S 𝘐𝘍 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘕’𝘛 𝘏𝘈𝘝𝘌 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌, 𝘐 𝘞𝘈𝘕𝘛 𝘗𝘖𝘞𝘌𝘙. PROMPTS.

a prompt list from halsey’s 2021 album: if i can’t have love, i want power, adjust any as needed!

01. 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘋𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕.

oh, the loneliest girl in town.

she’s easy on the eyes.

her soul is black and it’s a fact.

her sneer will eat you alive.

and the buyer always brings her back.

because all she does is cry.

so take what you want, take what you can.

take what you please, don’t give a damn.

ask for forgiveness, never premission.

it’s in the blood and this is tadition.

his smile hides a lie.

her fear will eat her alive.

well, she got the life she wanted.

you can’t take it back, it’s as good as gone.

i hope what’s left will last all summer long.

and they said that boys were boys but they were wrong.

02. 𝘉𝘌𝘓𝘓𝘚 𝘐𝘕 𝘚𝘈𝘕𝘛𝘈 𝘍𝘌.

don’t call me by my name.

all of this is temporary.

watch as i slip away for your sake.

well, maybe i can hold you in the dark.

you won’t even notice me depart.

leaving through the door without a word.

you won’t even notice, little bird.

better off dead.

so i reckon i’m headed to hell instead.

so don’t wait for me.

it’s not a happy ending.

jesus needed a three day weekend.

to sort out all his bullshit.

figure out the treason.

i’ve been searching for a fortified defense.

i could keep your bed warm, otherwise, i’m useless.

i don’t really mean it cause who the fuck would choose this?

03. 𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘕 𝘓𝘠𝘐𝘕𝘎.

i’m whatever you make me.

and you make me more and more a villain every day.

but you don’t know, you reap, you sow.

whatever you give to me, from yourself, you take.

well, if you’re a hater, then hate the creator.

it’s in your image i’m made.

one eye opened and one eye closed.

i lost all my faith and all hope.

that everything means anything at all.

one eye broken and one eye bruised.

cause i gave myself away for you.

you liar, you don’t love me too.

it’s easy for you, after all.

my heart is massive but it’s empty.

a permanent part of me, that innocent artery.

but it beats harder every time you come around.

but do you love the sound?

i sleep with one eye opened and one eye closed.

losing you is easier than lying to myself that you love me.

04. 𝘓𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘏.

well, i’m perfect when it comes to first impressions.

well, i romanticize and then i get to stressing.

a big brain like i’m teaching it a lesson.

baby, it’s a blessing, yeah.

you got me thinking i was too mean.

well, everything that i say, i believe.

tuck a knife with my heart up my sleeve.

change like a season, reason for nothing.

i am disruptive, i have been corrupted.

and by now, i don’t need an introduction.

i been gone because i been on this road too long.

you know i get too caught up in a moment.

i can’t call it love if i show it.

i just fuck things up if you noticed.

have you noticed. tell me, have you noticed?

now i’m wondering, if i ever wanted to hold you.

it never mattered if i owned you.

cause you let anybody with a body control you.

and you know it too.

the more that you give away, the more that you have.

05. 𝘎𝘐𝘙𝘓 𝘐𝘚 𝘈 𝘎𝘜𝘕.

i feel lighter in the wasitline.

with no hands around me, no spit in my teeth.

no, i’m not your daydream.

i won’t have your baby.

stop cause you’re killing my vibe.

it’s a shot in the dark.

i’m not a walk in the park.

i come loaded with the safety switched off.

this girl is a gun and we’ve been having some fun.

and i can show if you turn the lights on.

i keep waiting for luck to come swallow me up.

i feel better when the boys stop calling.

i keep falling in love.

this measuring cup is overflowing with the same damn problems.

and you’ll be wishing you crossed your fingers.

oh, but god, is it fun when you can have more than one.

so let me show you how to touch my trigger.

my newest babys testing me lately.

i cannot take it, i love it, i break it.

i can’t be stressing to give you attention.

oh, cause it’s never enough so i’m giving you up.

and you’ll be better with a nice girl.

06. 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘈𝘚𝘒𝘌𝘋 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚.

i don’t know what you want from me.

when i’m suburnt lips and summer feet.

i’m tattered like these levi jeans.

now what the fuck does all this mean?

you know i’m still somebody’s daughter, see.

i spilled the milk you left for me.

my tears are falling flawlessly now.

go on and be a big girl.

you asked for this now.

everybody’s gonna drown you out.

you better show them why you talk so loud.

you wished upon a falling star.

who the hell is in your bed?

you better kiss goodnight and give some head.

and then next, the morning comes instead.

well, is this the life that lies ahead now?

i want my cake on a silver platter.

i want a fistfull in my hands.

i want a beautiful boys despondent laughter.

i wanna ruin all my plans.

i want a fist around my throat.

i want to cry so hard, i choke.

i want everything i asked for.

Keep reading

#specify maleficent or mal <3

mal wants everybody to think she is scary and intimidating because she is afraid that if they get too close, they will find out that she ugly cries to homeward bound every winter like clockwork

#she actually cries at the drop of a hat #only a slight exaggeration #PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWERS (itty bitty space for learning how to regulate her emotions)#she can - AND HAS - obliterate the mistress of all evil! truly so powerful!#and yet she will be comatose in the bath over 1 senior shelter cat tiktok #pfft!

my alt fc for mal is so cute though :((((((

#perceive her :((#baby gremlin witch :(

☽ @vanitys: ❛ it’s not about whether i can. i have to do it. ❜

𝖜hen they speak of love , when they speak of twin flames , they will speak only of us . you held me first , beloved ; you chose me first and so i chose you . when they speak of longing , they will speak of you and i .

❝ e . ❞ this girl is so full of hate and hurt that even the softest of emotions in her eyes is indecipherable . mal looks at evie and thinks , i have been cruel to you . she thinks , i have maimed you when you have done only right by me . she thinks , sometimes i cannot help it when i am shouting and crying and hating you when really all i hate is me . a lesson , then , in the rot of her diaphonous brain . selfish girl knows she is selfish when she says , ❝ please don’t . ❞

#vanitys #tbt.#i will not be held responsible for this #i just love them very much!

if you are persistent in giving a shit about mal despite her attempts at rejecting/pushing away, she will eventually become a cat with a dead bird to you and you will never be rid of her

#she's? never been chosen before?#rejected all her life?#by her mother by peers by classmates #it's all she knows #so when people? actually try? actually want to know her?#she doesn't know what to do except latch immediately and unhealtily #unhealthily*#like mold to you she will be i'm so sorry

☽ @batfall: no doubt it will come and devour us all.

𝖊difice of a woman : she , who has devoured and will devour again , blinks like she is unbothered when in fact she is anything but so . within her rests the promise of demise , matricide of the severest degree ; she has not awakened to this knowledge yet , only knows that she is waiting . all she does is wait ( for mother , for company , for anyone anyone at all to hear me when i have been screaming this loudly for so long ) .

❝ is that how you feel ? ❞ so she forms these words as if a query , but the dry bland look to her eyes begs for a morsel of interest . she does not give even a drop . ❝ maybe we deserve it . dunno about you , but i could go for a good devouring . . . ❞

#batfall #tbt.#two sad goths walk into a bar........

when adora strokes camille’s hair back gently as she’s absolutely fucking shattering her daughter’s heart for the millionth time </3

#vibes.. absolute fuckin vibes..#that's it right here..#'i never loved you'#'you were born to it that cold nature'#WHEW

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you're so hateful.