𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝.

𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒       𝑖𝑡       𝒂𝒍𝒍       𝑏𝑒𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑑

[silvers-death]

+ #SILVERSDEATH, an exploration of : the trials and tribulations of wifedom, the full moon rises, being touched by death, the power of motherhood, clairvoyancy, a dream-like state, begging for salvation, the ultimate sacrifice, bargaining  with  god, unimaginable grief, gothic horror, the consequences of our actions, unnatural forces of the world, a bullet made of silver, ships passing in the night, what almost was and what will be.

❪ . . . ❫ _ an independent, highly selective and mutually exclusive headcanon-based portrayal of ISABELLE LAURENT from the cursed / eight for silver. semi-original, plucked from film canon, lore rewritten and adapted to suit. including themes such as the supernatural, religion, maternal instincts, superstitions, psychic abilities, horror and death. this blog is plot - focused and contains mature themes. twenty1+ only. CARRD. PROMPTS. MSC.

HEAVILY AFFILIATED WITH & EXCLUSIVE TO : SILVERSPATH. associated with : EVERYROUTE + TBA.

[silvers-death]

hey all, i have moved to a new blog because idk when this one is gonna get unbanned. if you could please follow me over on @silversdeath i would greatly appreciate it xo

[silvers-death]

hey all, i have moved to a new blog because idk when this one is gonna get unbanned. if you could please follow me over on @silversdeath i would greatly appreciate it xo

[silvers-death]

i am considering just moving everything over to a new, unbanned blog . . . would y'all be mad at me if i did that?? lmao

[silvers-death]

i am considering just moving everything over to a new, unbanned blog . . . would y'all be mad at me if i did that?? lmao

[notmorbid]

headshot.

dialogue prompts from headshot: a novel by rita bullwinkel.

you have an insanely good eye for reading people.

most people don't seem to think i'm capable of anything.

control and restraint are far more valuable than wild punches.

nobody can ever possibly know what a body is good at unless they're inside it.

i drove ___ miles to get here.

i'm going to make ___ see me.

this is a life i could live.

i'm still bad at looking in the mirror.

you need someone else in your life to tell you you're a real person.

no one will ever remember you.

the point of training is to change the outcome of the future.

my mother doesn't really look at me.

how did i end up so alone?

perhaps the future will not be like the past.

people are most scared by what makes no sense to them, but that they can't avoid.

win or lose, time will roll forward, marked by arbitrary increments.

all i want is to be the best at everything.

doesn't winning always count as winning?

being the best at something is supposed to be the dream.

i know how to build my own worlds to live in.

surely if people say it, it must be true.

it's always better to destroy something, if you can't have it.

what could be better than being whispered about when not in attendance?

i'm a wildfire.

sleeping is my all-time best coping mechanism.

you snooze like some people drink liquor.

everything has a price.

everything i want, i have to give something for.

the only thing worse than being a good girl is being a good dog.

don't you want to follow me?

everybody likes a gracious loser.

i let you win.

you look like a booger.

things were so in-between for so long, it seems impossible to understand the way things really are.

if you're slow, you'll get knocked over.

so many things in life look like one thing, but claim to be another.

this body. what a weird place to live in.

i was told it was rude to ask questions.

it's easy to leave a place that has nothing to offer.

an actor need not experience a tragedy in order to act it.

you can get out of almost anything by looking in the opposite direction.

it always takes me two days to process anything that happens.

i can tell you're not fully here with me.

i want to seem as frightening as possible.

you make me relieved to be alive.

[silvers-death]

until i get unbanned by the jerks i mean, hardworking people of tumblr support, kindly send memes to me on discord ( blamereign, for mutuals only ) - or you can send them to me via duhton just add -for silversdeath- to it.

[everyroute-arch]

+ ( OLIVIA CRAIN ) . . . * there is only one room in this house that makes her feel tethered, like she can lock herself away and feel whole again- and it's this room- her reading room, and liv can feel the swell of a storm in her core but here she revels in a breath of relief. in the neck of the room and the quiet it draws her in with. in the presence of her nana. who is far more recognizable than her own reflection appears these days. “different.” liv repeats, a quick succession of nods following, as if nothing could be more true. “i-i think you might be right. this house, it—” her eyes flit around the room whilst her words sit on a breathy exhale. she's so close it slips between her fingers. there have been many things said about this house, by her very own children at that, and so perfectly succinct- so wonderfully them- that it makes her smile even now. a half-fond, half-unsettled twine of her lips. but none so wholly concise as isabelle's description of her, and how quickly she makes the jump to the house. “it does feel different, too, doesn't it?” she ponders aloud. her line of sight then falls to isabelle. the haziness to her flitted gaze now dispersed with but a look. she's awake. “i suppose i'm still growing used to it.” olivia corrects. because it's just a house, no matter how loud, how cold, how different. “too late? don't be silly. the summer isn't over yet.”

[silvers-death]

+ there is clarity in death. an understanding that comes with the quiet, unknown observation of the world, and life within it. a hundred years or so she's walked this earth after the beat of her heart fell silent and still- watching over her children, and their children, and their children's children. a guardian angel, so to speak- her life for edward's; a sacrifice she had been more than willing to make, as she is willing to make again for olivia- but this house . . . oh, this house is not so easy to bargain with as the lord she prayed to the night she died. this house is wrought with death. it's in the walls, in the soil, in the very air it inhabits. isabelle would know. death and her are familiar. "it's wrong, livvy." she insists gently, that suffocating grip tightening around her throat and isabelle cannot enter this room, she can only stand in it's arches and watch, grappling with the choking force of true evil, but ever poised. olivia will not see her struggle- the house will not allow it. her blood in the other's veins is not enough to break through. but isabelle tries irregardless. she exhales through the parting of her lips, and sadness emanates from her wary stare. "oh, my darling." she shakes her head, unshed tears welling in her eyes. "i'm so sorry."

[silvers-death]

stop! she's so cute!

[silvers-death]

me : waiting impatiently to be unbanned so i can post a gif set edit i don't want tumblr support to see.

[silverspath]

+ . . . “you do.” john nods. what he knows and what he believes are not two things that should live in harmony. a contrast at best, and an absolute war at worst. john has always relied on the tangible. that which there is a science behind, with the compartment of knowledge his mind holds leading the path. that's what john knows. now, what he believes- it's a discombobulation of frayed knots and loose wires- and a whole lot of things he only understands because of lived experiences and if he thinks too hard about it he doesn't really think he understands it at all. only that it happened. that he lost people because of it, but perhaps now he has gained some too. though john doesn't plan to overstay his already much longer than anticipated welcome. even if they're now in his home and he won't be proposing their departure any time soon. with a cup of his own, he joins her in the chair opposite.

“needless.” said like a promise in response to her apology, low and sincere. it's somewhere between his knowing and his believing that has prompted the conversation at hand. it nags and it nags at him, and his thumb draws tiny circles upon the cups cradle as if to smooth out the kinks. while edward is in far better predicaments than he'd been surely- the bullet one with his existence now john's sure- back in the heat of the flames he'd have thought there would be far more to be worried about for what would come of the child than the mother. yet, there's been nothing outside of the boys lack of memory to suggest any cause for concern. and that is the best case scenario. as is isabelle's life, he ponders. so while time can only tell, it stands true that he's more drawn to what has seemingly come of the latter than he has for what's in store for the former. for now. “if you don't know why, isabelle- do you know where?” his lack of understanding is clear but his attention to the matter is just as crystal. where does her mind take her? what of it does she understand?

[silvers-death]

——— where? he asks, and her lips part as if to speak but there are no words that come to mind that make any sense to her. she doesn't feel as though she goes anywhere recognisable. sometimes, isabelle feels like she's adrift- and sometimes she feels as though she's tethered in place. there are no words to describe what happens when she leaves, she doesn't always realise she's left. she doesn't know. and that's what frightens her. isabelle held tighter to the cup in her hands, glancing down to peer at the contents within despite knowing it's just tea- she worried her lip before she sighed. "i don't . . . know," she shares, a furrow to her brow as she tries to piece together the words she needs to explain, when her explanation is unknown to even her. "sometimes i- i feel as though something is . . . wrong, with me." and it doesn't explain anything.

crystalised eyes rise from her cup to meet john across from her- "like i shouldn't be here." maybe, she shouldn't. the echo of a rifle shot rings in her ears, her breath escaping her on a gasp as the impact of a bullet ghosts through her back and one hand leaves her cup to press flat on her abdomen, fingertips curling into the fabric of her gown- there's nothing there now but a healing wound, but the memory of it leaves her . . . cold. she should have died that night. she did die that night. and yet she sits here now, and nothing feels right. except john. isabelle stares at him, and her eyes start to drift again, her head turns slightly as if she heard something- but there's nothing there. "sometimes . . . i feel- crowded. even when i'm alone." even now, with john. she looks back at him, always searching for him lately, when she feels unsettled. "you must think i'm crazy."

[silvers-death]

i need you to see the 'werewolf' from this movie because this fucker is truly the most horrific monster i have ever seen portrayed in media. like actually catch me gagging, it's so foul.

[silvers-death]

plot with me so we can emotionally destroy each other :)

[silvers-death]

isabelle has a haunting of hill house arc where she is olivia's great grandmother and she and the curse are where olivia and the kids get their 'sensitivity' from. she's followed her family throughout the generations, watching over them, until hill house.

[silvers-death]

——— @everyroute ❪ M ❫ ❝ i know, i barely recognise myself ❞

+ it's the house. isabelle had known it the moment olivia crossed it's threshold, had felt the unease on the grounds as she followed in the wake of her daughter's granddaughter- she was almost left behind, the door wide open as children ran inside to explore, olivia so calm and serene trailing behind them. isabelle had stood at the stoop, her head tilted back to gaze up at the house facade, and a familiar sense of foreboding gripped her dead heart. it felt like the curse. a similar dread, a similar evil- entering had been a grave mistake, for all of them, but for isabelle and olivia especially. days turn to weeks and the longer they linger within, the more she has tried to urge them to leave. whispering to the eldest daughter in her dreams, soothing the youngest with a hand to hold as she lay unnaturally still in the dead of night, guiding her twin as he ventured closer and closer to the ground's gate- but it's in olivia that isabelle's concern resides. she is irrevocably changed, and no one sees it like isabelle. that olivia herself is acknowledging it only makes isabelle more wary. "you are . . . different." she agrees quietly from the doorway to a room isabelle feels a stirring within. she hates it here. "it's not too late." she tries to tell her, ignoring the way the house wraps itself around her throat.

[silvers-death]

tell me you like my icons and lie to me if you don't-

[silvers-death]

until i get unbanned by the jerks i mean, hardworking people of tumblr support, kindly send memes to me on discord ( blamereign, for mutuals only ) - or you can send them to me via duhton just add -for silversdeath- to it.