TO BE CONTINUED (tomorrow!!) 

Sorry about the filter this is again from Instagram highlight screenshots and in this case I can’t take new photos because I stupidly put this in a hot tumble dryer and it now needs the front reprinted oops. Anyways yeah customised tshirt!!

The picture is mirrored but the text reads “love kills, you can prevent it”. Like the fire safety ads yk

sitting outside because I am feeling badly and I really don’t want to get from an eight year old

🐸🔹 Anne Boonchuy 🔹🐸

🔹|🔹|🔹

🔹|🐸|🔹

🔹|🔹|🔹

you tried to burn me alive / but i will make this fire mine.

cw: fire, being burned alive, near death experience.

THE FIRE BURNED BRIGHT, A SCORCHING WARMTH AGAINST HER SKIN — a betrayal (a betrayal, a betrayal, a betrayal) — all for what? all for an imaginary crime? all because they did not believe what she did? all because she was stronger, more powerful, able to cast magicks better than they ever could? because she aided the frail, the ill with potions, with magicks, with succor — as one should for their community?

A WITCH — THEY CALLED HER. chanting it as they burned her — burned her alive — and cursed to suffer the same fates as those she watched burn before her. WITCH HUNTS — a curse for mages, especially towards those who dabbled in black magicks and void magicks ( she wasn’t there yet, but she knew the knowledge, stored it away for the day she would be brave — be willing enough to dabble into the truly forbidden. ) but a worry for all.

A CURSED THING — A VIOLENT THING.  all of which they claimed her to be, all because she could achieve things they could not. their insults ate at her, eating away at her heart as the fire grew hotter, tearing screams from her throat. A CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY. A STAIN AGAINST THEIR BELIEFS. rage building, building, building within her, becoming just as much of a burning crescendo as the flames licking at her skin. 

THESE WOULD NOT BE HER FINAL MOMENTS — SHE REFUSED. a witch full of incandescent rage at the idea of dying here, she called a summons to the void — a method she had barely knew, recalling the steps whilst on the edge of death but there was no time to dither, to be afraid of that which she barely knew, not with the pain, not with her breaths growing shorter. 

A CREATURE OF THE VOID SUMMONED. A CONTRACT MADE IN BLOOD. A TOWN LEFT IN RUIN — BURNED TO ASHES. ONLY ONE REMAINED — ONE THAT NOW BECAME THE VOID ITSELF.

Very emotional over the fact that the scars on Red Son’s face are self-inflicted from back before he had the Samadhi Fire taken out of him.

Captain Marvel Adventures #2

Chileon Moodboard with Grunge Aesthetic for Anon!

- 🗡 Mod Peko

[🔥]

THEN THEY'LL LAUGH AT YOU WATCHING YOU FALL APART!!

There’s burning where her lungs should be.

Gasping doesn’t help much. Not in this state- her eyes are all blurry and she closes them hard against the onslaught of smoke.

It’s hard to tell what’s up and what’s down, whether this fire under her palms was connected to a wall or the floor, whether she’s still on her bed or how long she has been laying here. She thinks she can hear sirens in the distance. Along with the crackling of wood, it’s getting closer.

Breathe, she tells herself. It’s a silly thought, honestly. Breathe.

This air isn’t right for her.

There are a lot of things flashing right now. She wonders where Sasha and Marcy are, whether they’ve been sleeping as soundly as she has. If it didn’t hurt to move, if she could move at all, maybe she could crawl out of here. Somewhere. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs. Probably. Maybe it’s her parents.

She’s got time.

It’s the last thing that crosses her mind before her candle is snuffed out by lack of oxygen.

—

She opens her eyes to a brilliant kaleidoscope of colors.

It’s just as calming as it was the first time. She could train her eyes on it forever, relax in the cool grass with the stars gently spiraling across the night sky.

Unfortunately however, there’s a familiar cat blocking her way.

I didn’t expect you to come back so soon. The deity murmurs, putting a paw on her face. She mumbles, and gently pushes it off.  It’s not your fault though. You were asleep when the fire engulfed the room.

“I thought I still had time,” Anne answers back, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. She looks over the edge of the island. It’s nothing but abyss, and somehow that doesn’t scare her. “You said 78 more years. I should have had 68 to go.”

That was more of a wish on my part, Not-Domino says, calmly sitting next to Anne and yawning. 91 is an ideal age to die. 23, not so much. I didn’t expect this. Thought I’d give you a fulfilling life before taking over this job. It’s stressful.

“...So can I go back?” Anne asks, and she almost feels bad for leaving so soon.

She puts a hand to her chest and inhales. It doesn’t feel any different. Just like last time. The pins and needles weren’t there at all when she first woke up in this place. She wonders if this is a blessing on the deity’s part, or if it’s simply a part of this space.

You will. You’d be surprised at what medical technology can do these days. The deity almost seems sad. Anne can’t help but feel bad for it- it must be pretty lonely up here. She’s always been a social person. Being away from others for this long must be unbearable. Amongst other things. Any moment now.

“Not looking forwards to the health problems,” Anne says, and she laughs a little to stave off the anxiety over future medical bills. “You can’t make another copy of me, right?”

You still have your body that I gave you last time. It will be a little dysfunctional for a time, but I trust that it will work smoothly given human technology.

“Right. Well,” Anne murmurs, looking over the edge once again, her legs swinging mindlessly as a bright light opens up underneath them. She’s seen how this goes. “Guess this is goodbye.”  

Fur brushes its way past her arm. You could stay. I could make you stay, if you wanted. Are you sure you want to go back?...

“Sorry dude,” Anne says, as the white void rises up. She avoids looking at the deity. She’ll keep justifying it with her own development, until the time comes. “Got lessons I need to learn. Like how to fireproof my house.”

Right. Well. I wish you luck.

“Good luck to you as well,” she says, and she lets the void swallow her whole.

–

She awakes to the sound of monitors.

Her entire body aches. Which is to be expected, given the amount of scratchy white bandages she can make out on her body, even without moving her head. Right. Lessons. Fireproofing her house.

She didn’t ask the deity about the stones.

Damn it.

“Holy shit, Mars- she’s awake! She’s actually awake! Oh thank frog-”

Right. She’s got people looking after her too. She didn’t mean to die, but it must have been stressful for Sasha and Marcy to have their best friend dragged out of her apartment.

She closes her eyes again. The lights are too bright, nothing like the faded hues of the afterlife.

Hopefully, she’ll have enough time between lives to forget again.

@meekmcuse asked: 🙊 ― a memory you don’t ever talk about // for peeta !

warnings for physical / child abuse under the cut

The first time he burnt a loaf of bread, it was a complete accident — a mistake Peeta swore to himself he’d never make again. Not only was he disappointed in himself, but he’d disappointed his family. Resources weren’t easy to come by, and he’d wasted them.

He was no more than seven, but nevertheless, Peeta was expected to be just as good a baker as his elder brothers. But mistakes happened, and Peeta had been too caught up talking to one of his elder brothers to notice the loaf was burning.

He didn’t realize it until his mother stormed in, yelling and screaming at him, grabbing his arm roughly and pulling him into his bedroom. No matter how much Peeta apologized, it didn’t matter. By the time she left, he was trembling and crying, bruises littering his body.

He made sure to never burn another loaf after that. Not until the one he burned on purpose for Katniss, that is.

full of smoke tightening my breath / i’m born again. a pretty, persistent flame.

giriboy music video series (7/∞) - Issu du Feu

no..

not yet..

theres still so much i have to fix...

not yet

Women On the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, Pedro Almodovar (1988)/ Psycho Killer, Talking Heads (1977)

It's been awhile, @baddestbitchontheblock.

Playing with matches!!

I ate the spiciest thing I’ve ever eaten in my life for dinner. I only took a few bites before I had to start sipping milk. This was hours ago and my throat still physically hurts from it now wtf

Also queen scarlet