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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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THE AMERICANS, FX sentence meme.
❛  I want us to be able to say what’s true. I want us – it to be. I want it to be … real. Do you think we could do that?  ❜
❛  They don’t care. They don’t care what happens to any of us.  ❜
❛  I’ve been thinking about you. About us. I miss you.  ❜
❛  I’m sorry I didn’t kill you. That’s my apology.  ❜
❛  I made a terrible mistake. Terrible mistake. So many things have gone wrong for us.  ❜
❛  I do everything for you. I do my best.  ❜
❛  I know you better than you know yourself. And, you don’t know me at all.  ❜
❛  I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that.  ❜
❛  This isn’t going to go well for you.  ❜
❛  We can’t undo this, I can’t undo this. But I can help. I can help. I can make this go away.  ❜
❛  I think you owe me more than an apology.  ❜
❛  I only have fear. And, you.  ❜
❛  They kill us. We kill them. That’s the world that we live in.  ❜
❛  How are we going to live like this? We’ll get used to it. Like we got used to everything else.  ❜
❛  I have never… wanted too much, really. I just wanted to live for something, and I’ve done that.  ❜
❛  Keep a tiger as a pet, it’s still a tiger.  ❜
❛  Come home.  ❜
❛  You have no armor, nothing to protect you – except your wits, your courage, and your beauty. How is it possible you’re here?  ❜
❛  I’m glad that you told me. I am. I have to know everything. Even if it’s hard.  ❜
❛  First there are no choices and now there are no good choices. I’d say we’re making progress.  ❜
❛  I’m supposed to tell you I forgive you.  ❜
❛  Nobody sane would do this work.  ❜
❛  It wasn’t your fault.  ❜
❛  I’m just trying to find something good in all of this.  ❜
❛  I guess you never really know a person, do you?  ❜
❛  I missed you every day.  ❜
❛  And maybe its not so hard to deceive with the eyes, the smile, the things we say. But the body– those parts of the body that can love, they want to tell the truth. When we train them to lie, that’s hard on the soul.  ❜
❛  I’m not one of the martyrs, and if I live, then maybe one day I’ll see… They only have my  body. You understand?  ❜
❛  I haven’t told anyone. I won’t.  ❜
❛  That’s what evil people tell themselves when they do evil things.  ❜
❛  My soul is fine. How is yours?  ❜
❛  I need to know the truth. I don’t care what it is, but if you love me, if you really love me, then just please tell me.  ❜
❛  I’m not stupid. I know there’s something going on.  ❜
❛  You want to be a grown-up? Being a grown-up means doing things you don’t want to do all the time. It means working when you are exhausted, and almost never getting what you want when you want it.  ❜
❛  I wanted you to know that I’m more like you than you think.  ❜
❛  You gave me another chance. But I ruined that, too.  ❜
❛  It is happening. It is just happening. I am doing it – with or without you.  ❜
❛  I wasn’t pretending with you.  ❜
❛  I’m not here to be saved. Not by you, not by anyone.  ❜
❛  One mistake. That’s all it takes.  ❜
❛  You have to lie to tell a greater truth.  ❜
❛  Don’t you understand that, after all these years? I would… I would go to jail, I would die, I would lose everything before I would betray my country.  ❜
❛  They shouldn’t ask us to do impossible things.  ❜
❛  You don’t know anything about me.  ❜
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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godblooded.
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Things in three! Something in three! Comes in three! The scent differs and changes and changes and the scent is not the same! The scent, the scent, it’s now in three! There is not one to whom she is speaking, but three! The WE is clear when it is said, and there are three, people three, speakers three, sorceresses three!
She can feel a mirthful bubbling in the middle of her, somewhere around her heart, maybe. It’s a warm sensation of encasement, rattling and rattling, murmuring and shouting at once. Three!
She takes a hand the very moment it is offered, clasps it easily in the soft, cool leather of her own. Her grin is bright!
“A-de-li-ta,” She has to speak slowly, squeezes a palm, and then lets go to observe– to circle, to examine, this predator of a creature, though she means no harm, “Theyuh’re two more’uh ya. They a-de-li-ta too? What’s’uh– pe-que-ña?” (She cannot probably say that word, though she tries.)
“What part’uh ev’rythin’ are ya?”
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             they teeter on the edge of excitement and mania; hanging, dipping, eating it all in. once upon a time, they were worshiped. this isn’t worship, but it’s respect. it’s close. it’s as old as they all are. they twist and turn and follow and adelita keeps up without missing a beat.
                             “no. they’re their own,” she replies, hand still tingling from the connection of magick between them all. “little one,” she tacks on as explanation. 
             the little god’s quick; a star shooting across the sky, flickering and falling and bursting with light.
                           “we’re made up of all things old and timeless. bits of the elements. pieces of this earth and all ones before it.” eyebrow arching, she studies kitty back with as open an exploration and curiosity as they’ve been given. “where and when do you come from -- ?”       
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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call me medusa for my monstrosity is not mine to bear, but yours to fear.
a.c 
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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" I savor bitterness - it is born of experience. It is the privilege of one who has truly lived. "
           collectively, they grin. his fingers trace along the grains of wood in the table, seemingly preoccupied, but his attention hasn’t left her.
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                     “and what do you know of living -- ?” his eyes, flecked with a green too bright, flick up to her face where they linger. eliseo is patient. “ah -- that was rude, was it not? apologies, i ask out of curiosity.” 
@braccati // from a meme i’m too lazy to link.
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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haunted forest/mansion aesthetic (requested)
{ more here } { request here }
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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         they cant their head and watch him. debating. shifting. who is who is who -- ? a viper’s hiss steals from their lips before she makes herself fully known. all smiles, all teeth. we is here. he knows of we. he is a we all his own. same person, different faces. flash, flash, glitch -- all him. she likes him. he fits and doesn’t fit. he fits himself, but not what’s around him. he fits his skins.
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                   “i think,” she mimics him, fingers and all. “that’s a good answer.” 
      reds and blues and greens and all that static. they stir, stretch, and vibrate with life -- a testament to his answer --  and she beckons with an easy flick of her wrist. 
                  “drink with me.” // @patchworkman ( cont. )
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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againsthedark.
                                                                  ‘ if i had a cap every time i heard that… ‘
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people claim nick valentine fights an uphill battle. what he wants to ask is why they don’t bother. why do folks act as if hurting others is the only way to accomplish anything? all anyone has to do is look around to see where violence and cruelty landed them. it’d be a waste of energy to, but the impulse whisks through his circuits every time. he taps the filter of his cigarette, loosening its ashes. ‘ irma mentioned she saw you two acting awfully chummy around bobbi’s old place couple days before he left. he say anything that stood out to you or–? ‘
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              “you believe her -- ?” it’s less of an accusation and more a genuine question. curiosity peeks higher. just a fragment. humans come and go. what’s here today is gone tomorrow. when this life ends, new humans fill their places. why look for something replaceable? the detective will linger when all around him perish.( it’s that raw humanity from someone not quite human that keeps them interested. ) adelita shrugs.
                             “he rambled. it’s his thing,” she says. “nothing about disappearing. i’d remember that.” 
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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Untitled ☾
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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i'll drain him dry as hay / sleep shall neither night nor day / hang upon his penthouse lid /  he shall live a man forbid / weary sev'nnights, nine times nine, / shall he dwindle, peak, and pine / though his bark cannot be lost, / yet it shall be tempest-tossed. // selective weird sisters of shakespeare’s macbeth. //  © & © ( thank you !! )
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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anyone wanna meet up in some catacombs?
                                               itll be sexy i promise
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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kisa + faceless | pt. 2
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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Hail Macbeth! by `Pyrochan-dolls
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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godblooded.
@losmuerte
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Old magick regards old magick with a sense of curious delight. The scent is in her nose, now, and her eyes widen, glimmer their forest shade in her sudden excitement. The beat of the little god’s HEART quickens only just and her palms, gloved, itch with the desire to touch as a means of learning, but there is space to be respected–
Space that she, herself, is not ultimately talented at respecting. A head ducks LOW and she may as well be an animal– ah, but she is, the rigid, broad, huge tense of shoulders and enormously woven muscle. Vibrant, vivacious, vivid eagerness glints in her posture as it straightens, no longer the eager pup sniffing, hands pressed into the pockets of dark, TIGHT jeans. The word WITCH is scratched across her left forearm, half readable, derogatorily scrawled in pearlescent, rubbery scar tissue.
Lips break into a WIDE GRIN, sharp, kittenish teeth not the namesake of who she is, but there all the same. Eyebrows raise.
“Who are ya?”
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             oh, how they feel it, too. push, pull. hum and vibrate. it resonates in the air around them. will she, won’t she -- so close and yet so far. adelita holds her arms out. inviting. the others pull in close, curious, too. ( eager to be seen. eager to be heard. ) magick tells a tale when words often fail. it leaves an echo. an imprint. the god’s magick swells and strains; too much for one so small. and yet just enough.
                                “we are everything,” she replies, tongue flicking off her teeth. playful, daring. gods and witches. witches and gods. god made earth, earth made them.
             they both break men. 
                                “but you can call me, adelita, pequeña.” little, but old. little, but strong. little, but full of might. 
            she holds a hand out, palm up, fingers wiggling. 
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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deathless ♚ sentence meme
You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast.
You are going to break your promise. I understand.
You’re lonely too.
It will stop your breath, how cruel I can be.
I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable.
I am your servant.
I crawl at your feet; for before your love, your kisses, I am debased.
For you alone I will be weak.
I belong here, and you will not deny me.
I say these things, and the world listens.
I do not tolerate a world emptied of you. I have tried.
In the dark, I have pored over the loss of you like pale gold.
I will not let her speak because I love her, and when you love someone, you do not make them tell war stories.
I moved the earth and the water for you.
You will always run away with her.
You will always lose her.
You will always be a fool.
You will always be dead, in a city of ice, snow falling into your ear.
You have already done all of this and will do it again.
No one should be judged for loving more than they ought, only for loving not enough.
We look terrible to you, and severe, and you see our blood flying.
What we carry between us is hard-won, and we made it just as we wished it to be, just the color, just the shape.
There need never be any rules between us.
Let us be greedy together; let us hoard.
Do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me.
I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I.
Sleep with fists closed and shoot straight.
I can’t abide a poor liar.
You look like a winter’s night. I could sleep inside the cold of you.
Oh, quit that. Blushing is for virgins and Christians.
Scold me; deny me. Tell me you want what you want and damn me forever. But don’t leave me.
Bad luck relies on absolutely perfect timing.
In his own country, Death can be kind.
What is the world but a boxing ring where fools and devils put up their fists?
Men die. It’s practically what they’re for.
I am no one; I am nothing.
Nothing in me was not made by you.
A revelation is always the end of something. It might even be cause for grief.
Just tell yourself a story that’ll satisfy you and pretend he told it.
Forever isn’t bright; it isn’t like that. Forever is cold and hard and final.
I savor bitterness - it is born of experience. It is the privilege of one who has truly lived.
If you want to kill yourself, do not use us as your knife.
What did I do wrong? Was I boring? Did I ignore you?
Don’t you dare speak to me like that.
I have worn nothing but blood and death for years.
I have fought all your battles for you, just as you asked me.
I have learned not to cry when I strangle a man.
I have learned to watch everything die.
I am not a little girl anymore, dazzled by your magic. It is my magic, now, too.
Are we not devils?
No one is now what they were before the war.
I have not seen you without your skin on.
Close up your head; your brain is getting loose.
We obsess. It’s in our nature.
I’ve a devil of a habit for being right.
In war you must always choose sides.
If you try to be a bridge laid down between them, they will tear you in half.
We are all dead. All equal. Broken and aimless and believing we are alive.
My old bones will follow yours soon enough.
It is better to be strong and cruel than to be fair.
I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.
After love, no one is what they were before.
I have survived, but I have not been spared.
In the space of one heartbeat to another I loved you and I was lost to you.
Frighten me, make me cry, only come back.
It’s not so bad, my darling. Being dead. It’s like being alive, only colder.
You’ll think it’s love, while he dines on your heart.
You will be so beautiful when you are old.
I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go.
You will live as you live in any world…with difficulty, and grief.
I look at you and it is like my throat being cut.
She said you’d come and I swore to eat your heart.
I still want to kiss you.
My heart is being cut in two. I cannot bear it.
What happens to anything beautiful?
I have to know, I have to or else you will just rule me until the end of everything because you know and I do not.
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losmuerte-blog · 7 years
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