#seablings<3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Women make up for the other 50% of Tumblr’s audience.

all-the-bones-ever · 4 months

Text

His wings are yellow.

They are the color of domestication. They are the color of the peace times in the games. They are a warning. They are the color of second chances. They are dyed by the light he will be led to his death by.

In the coalmine, his wings are tied together. Outside, they are clipped messily, as if by a child.

And when he sings, he holds his breath. He leads them deeper into the mines, where the fire grows low and red.

He sings until his voice won't carry, and he falls from his cage. He sings until they can't find the surface.

Afterall, the canary knows the coalmine best. He plays the games, but he does not lose. He has never been allowed something to lose.

He does not grieve when he is not first to fall. He does not know what ignorance he has lost. He did not know it could be lost.

36 notes · View notes

losingmymindrn · 23 days

Text

Mizzen head canons!!

● Mizzen has a starfish patch on the top of his hat

● he looks up to coral a lot

● loves Percy Jackson and the Olympians

● he, CC, and Muade Ivory are the BESTEST of friends

● likes making crafts, mainly for Coral since she loves getting them

● favorite animal is a starfish

● begs coral to take him to the aquarium

● most people don't know he's Coral's brother since they look different

● has dyslexia

● follows Coral's footsteps and is a trouble maker in school

● he likes to go on boats

● has a pet parrot

● he loves to take walks down the beach, trying to spot sealife

● Don't give him a knife

● teases coral for liking Lucy gray

● very artistic

● only really listens to Coral, but he'll listen to the older covey members

● Loves Lucy Gray

● has played at the hob with Muade Ivory before

● loves fishing with Coral

● hates crab, lobster, and oysters. He flat out refuses to eat them because "he doesn't want to hurt them"

● Makes seashell jewelry with coral

● loves lollipops

● he doesn't like being separated from Coral much; neither does she like being separated from mizzen

We had Coral and now it's mizzen's turn for headcanons!! My baby boy<3

#tbosas #the hunger games #lucy gray baird #asks open #lucy gray my beloved #coral tbosas #coral my dearest<3 #mizzen tbosas #Mizzen headcanons #tbosas headcanon #Tbosas hc #The covey Tbosas #seablings tbosas

17 notes · View notes

elfilibusterismo · 7 months

Text

if anything funny came out of the map post its indonesians and singaporeans going "INDONESIA/SINGAPORE MENTION" in the notes LMAO youre the only ones i respect

#my seablings <3 LMFAOGHSJKGHFDKJHGKFDHG

8 notes · View notes

darlingsnow0 · 8 hours

Note

Coral gives Mizzen piggy backs all the time

Coral is the person that goes to father's day at Mizzen school

YES YES YES

#coral tbosas #mizzen tbosas #my bbs <3 #seablings #love them

4 notes · View notes

hermitshell · 2 years

Text

I'm so sad because I just now got attached to empires season 1 and I miss them so much </3333

#i love empires s2 so far just #empires s1 crew </3 theyre gone #no more wither rose alliance no more seablings no more pearl </3

5 notes · View notes

sweasling · 4 months

Note

hallo sweasling alien. .. may i get a renchanting duo or a seablings !! :3

some renchanting AND seablings! i love that lizzie’s got cat design elemnts and jimmy now has dog ones, so…. :3

#renchanting #renthedog #martyn inthelittlewood #lizzie ldshadowlady #jimmy solidarity #seablings #life series #trafficblr #i don’t really know what trafficblr means i’m assuming it’s life series

174 notes · View notes

hoodieseasoned · 7 months

Text

wanted to draw some seablings and water

so here they are :3

i remembered i own watercolors, and also a scanner lol (though i don't think i like what the scanner results look like that much,,, tho, it was better than using the phone camera as there isn't any annoying shiny-ness)

idk how to draw water but i think it turned out quite interesting looking

i used a part of john william waterhouse's "hylas and the nymphs" -painting as a reference

here is some progress pictures

my phone camera has trouble processing color pencils ig, you can see it looks a bit fuzzy for some reason

also i really like their expressions from the sketch, i did lose those in the coloring progress which is sad ;^;

btw feel free to give me any requests in the askbox abt empires (season 1) cast/hermits to draw as i enjoy working off of prompts (inspiration has been hard to come by recently, this is a cry for help lolol)

#empires smp #ldshadowlady #jimmy solidarity #mcyt fanart #empires s1 #i hope I'm doing the alt text thingy right I'm really bad at describing things clearly lol

341 notes · View notes

scribbling-dragon · 4 months

Note

30 for seablings? not sure if you've ever written them before

shared history (forgotten past)

summary:

Leaving the egg behind, despite how she might later look back on it, was not easy. With the rose-tinted glasses of the future (a phrase she’ll learn and forget, and learn again as she has this realisation) she can say it was as easy as breathing. As easy as taking one step and then another. It was not easy.

(ao3 link)

(1,892 words)

[quick warning that this fic does talk A LOT about death. it's a recurring thing within it, and not something that i want people to be unaware of when going into this fic. take care! <3 this fic was also done for these writing prompts!]

It was not easy.

It was days and nights of sitting and considering. Cradling the delicate egg close to herself. It is the only thing she has. She is the only thing it has. There is nothing left for them in this world other than each other.

Still, an egg is not good company. She has sat beside this egg, day in and day out, hiding when she can. Fleeing when she cannot. She uses the currents to her advantage, hides in places where the salmon cannot reach them. Where they are safe, if only for a little bit, if only until the salmon figure out how to reach her and the little egg, and she is forced to flee again.

She is not certain that whatever is in the egg – a sibling, it’s something related to her, a sibling – is still alive. She can’t be certain that the egg she carries with her, the egg that despite it’s small size makes her arms ache and bring tears to her eyes, still contains some kind of life.

For all she knows, she might be carrying an egg that has already begun to rot from the inside out.

The egg has not hatched yet, and it feels as though hundreds of years have passed. Maybe it will never hatch. Maybe it’s just an oddly shaped rock that she’s been swimming around with no justification for it other than she cannot be the only one.

Sometimes, she almost swears she can feel a heartbeat pulsing through the shell. Can feel it in her claws and in her fins, but when she shifts her hands slightly it fades as quickly as it had arrived. Maybe the egg is empty, has nothing at all within it, and it can only imitate that which is around it. It echoes her own heartbeat back into her eyes, giving her the false hope that she clings to.

(Please, she finds herself begging with increasing frequency, please, please, please, don't let her be the only one. Don't leave her alone. She’s not sure she can survive that. Not sure that she would want to.)

She presses on. Forges onwards despite the doubts that continue to claw at the edges of her mind.

The salmon continue to attack. They are mocking and malicious. They taunt her with their silence, refusing to utter a single word that would break the silence she has wrapped herself in. Layer after layer of silence covers her, tightening around her body as another layer is added, day after day after day.

Maybe all the muscles in her throat have atrophied. Maybe she will never be able to utter a single word.

She can’t bring herself to speak into the shell of this fragile egg. This small thing cradled close to her chest. Her heart beats, strong against the weak shell of the egg. She fears, sometimes, in the quieter moments, that her heart may beat too fast, too hard, and the egg will simply crack under the pressure.

She snaps and snarls at the salmon the next time they approach her and the egg. Lashes out at the few that attempt to dart forward and steal the last egg from her grasp- as though they haven’t taken enough already!

Waking amongst the destroyed shells of her siblings was a horror she doesn’t like to linger on. The cracked eggs, empty and devoid of life. The frantic scramble through a nursery turned graveyard. The panic that had overtaken her, the one that has not yet unhooked its claws from her skin, the one that lingers.

The dizzying relief of finding another egg is also something she has never experienced again after that moment.

A single egg, trapped beneath the tossed aside shell of one of her – their – siblings. She had almost given up hope on this egg, too, had seen the flattened side from where the shell had rested on it too long.

But it had been intact. And there was a heartbeat inside of it. One that slowed to follow the gradually slowing beat of her own heart.

She had sat beside that egg for months.

She had watched it, day in, day out. She had barely dared to move from where she sat, fearful that if she pulled herself away for even a moment, went to chew on some seagrass or try and find some kelp, that she would come back to a cracked egg. A slightly larger graveyard.

That looming loneliness had kept her rooted to the spot, even as the sand gathered around her. Even as it began to gather beneath her scales and itch.

As the months dragged into years the bitter taste of fear began to rear its ugly head. She squashed it at first, dismissing the worries for something unfounded. This egg was smaller than the one she hatched from. Was smaller than most of the eggs around it. Maybe it was younger.

There was no one to ask how long she had remained in her egg for.

The egg might take another hundred years to hatch. Might take another thousand.

She would wait. She has waited. There’s no reason to stop waiting now, no reason to abandon this egg for dead when she may as well lay herself in front of the salmon and ask them to kill her.

To abandon the egg would be to abandon the hope for companionship.

She is not alone, never alone, even if her only company is an egg. One that thumps the same heartbeat as she does. She doesn’t dare utter a word to its shell, doesn’t dare breathe a word into the shell, for fear that there is an emptiness within it that would echo the words back.

So, she clutches the egg close. She weaves it a sling of kelp and seagrass, one to keep it close to her chest and free her hands.

The salmon continue to grow. No matter how many she kills and eats they come back stronger. She kills one and two return. She kills the two, and four take their place.

There are only so many places she can run to. Only so many places she dares to venture this deep. This dark. There are things lurking here worse than the salmon. They would not appreciate her waking them from their slumber, just as she would not appreciate staring into a deep-sea trench and discovering that it is staring back at her.

The light of the ocean above looks more tempting by the day.

It looks warm and comfortable. Safe from the salmon that lurk in the shadows and pursue her slowly.

They are waiting for her to tire. She knows this. She fears this. Can feel the exhaustion beginning to tug on her bones, making her just that fraction slower as she escapes. The salmon get closer each time, closer and closer until she’s just barely avoiding them.

They are mocking her, she knows. They speak in that silent language of theirs and mock her for carrying an unhatched egg.

She clutches it ever closer and prays that there is something, anything, out there that might take pity on her.

No response comes. And she takes matters into her own hands, sick of waiting and tired of the dark and the cold and the loneliness. She seizes the first opportunity she has and forces herself into those warmer waters.

The egg does not pulse at her. Does not imitate her heartbeat.

The egg drags her down, makes the ascent difficult. There are many opportunities to abandon it. To untie the sling that keeps it close and watch it sink into the depths. Just another sibling to join the graveyard she’s left behind.

But this egg has colour. This egg has the potential for life and she cannot bring herself to abandon the thing that has pushed her forward this entire time. Cannot abandon the opportunity for companionship.

Until she does.

Until the warmer waters prove to be hostile too, and the land begins to look more and more safe as the days roll by. Time had been an unknown thing in the dark depths, but here there is a clear order to it, a darkness and a light. A day and a night.

The salmon here are more vicious. Faster. They have fed well on the prospering lands in a way their relatives in the deep had not. The salmon there had been meek, she realises, in comparison to these warm-water salmon.

It is with a heavy heart and a decision that is not as easy as breathing – she may say it is, in the future, a tease, to a companion she hadn’t known she lost until she found him again – but it is not easy now.

It is not easy to rip through the sling, grief slowing her movements. She tucks the egg away into a place it will be safe. Somewhere the salmon do not patrol.

The warmth seems to have done the egg some good.

That new confidence, that new hope, allows her to lean close to the egg, floating serenely in the shallow and muddy waters of a swamp, and bring her mouth close to the egg.

“You're okay,” she breathes. “You’ve got to be okay. You’ve got to be. You're okay.” She doesn’t recognise the sound of her own voice. It is as though a stranger is speaking her mind, is speaking with her mouth. It is her voice, she knows, but it is not one she recognises. “Please,” she begs. “Please be okay.”

The egg does nothing.

She cannot help but be relieved. The fear of the egg echoing her words back to her; there being nothing within the egg other than the false hopes she has built up over the last several centuries. All of it has been proven false.

She strokes a hand over the egg and swims away.

She doesn’t look back as she pokes her head out of the water, observing the dry sand ahead of her. Leading into a lushness that looks like an entire field of seagrass, only above ground. A great, large greenness stretches up towards the sky behind it, like an entire kelp forest.

She cannot help but glance back then, when she can no longer see the egg, bidding it a farewell. It will find her, she tells herself. When it hatches, it will find her, and she will no longer be alone. And it will be warm.

The sun is warm as she climbs out the water, thoughts of the egg trickling away as easily as the water trickles away from her skin.

She stands beneath the sun, feels the warmth of it on her back, staring off into the distance. She blinks, and then shakes her head, wet hair flicking about her face and sticking to her skin.

There had been something…something that she can’t remember.

There was…something important in the swamp?

Well, can’t have been that important if she’s forgotten it!

#asks #anon #juno.writes #ldshadowlady #jimmy solidarity #empires smp #empires smp s1 #empires smp fic #empires lizzie #empires jimmy

82 notes · View notes

losingmymindrn · 22 days

Text

Coral holds mizzen with one arm while she's doing smth so he doesn't wander off

#tbosas #coral my dearest<3 #coral tbosas #mizzen tbosas #Coral hc #Coral headcanons #Mizzen hc #Mizzen headcanons #tbosas seablings

10 notes · View notes

sixthecryptid · 3 months

Text

The Seablings my beloveds <33 I can’t believe that they have haters :c I also made a wallpaper version of this, for those that are interested :33

Mizzen is definitely my favorite character tho, I have adopted him

I loved the movie a lot, so much that I immediately had to buy the book and read the entire series…. :D

Like/Repost if used would be appreciated <3

#tbosbas mizzen #tbosas #tbosas mizzen #tbosbas #tbosbas coral #tbosas coral #mizzen #coral #seablings #hunger games #the hunger games

62 notes · View notes

gladumf · 5 months

Text

controversial take but I've been seeing a lot of posts angry about people drawing and talking about Lizzie's death relating to the canary curse and seablings, because it's tying her to a man and she's a super cool woman who doesn't need a guy to be special (which is true, she doesn't!)

but the thing is, I don't think it has anything to do with Lizzie being a woman? like? this is a series where everything is so tightly intertwined, and while yeah, there is a lot of misogyny within the mcyt community, I honestly cannot say that people relating Lizzie's death to seablings and the canary curse is sexist

if Martyn had died first, people would have said that the canary curse transferred. if Mumbo had died first, they would have said the miner died in the mines before the canary could sing. if Scott, or Pearl, or Joel, or anyone else got out first, it would have somehow been related to the canary curse, because that's how this series works! everything is interconnected!!

and to be honest, I've seen pretty much an equal amount of Lizzie art on her own, rather than with someone. if you aren't seeing that art, then maybe there's something you need to fix with your tags, or the art that you pay attention to. fix your algorithm and get the art you want to see

anyway let people make connections with Lizzie and the people around her, guy or not. we connect the evo people together, why not the empires people? leave the artists and theorists alone and let them get excited over the connections, thank you <3

#also another thing #the server is like 85 percent dudes #so of course the women are gonna be connected to guys #the guys are connected to guys #they're all connected #it's not a gender thing #anyway I'm expecting a lot of flack for this but oh well #yolo #secret life #trafficblr #lizzie ldshadowlady #also I can't speak for Lizzie but I have a feeling she's really enjoying the art and writing and such #regardless of gender #secret life smp

69 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

greatrunninggamingfan

룰루게임(룰루게임바둑이)몰디브게임

cantfindwhoasked

Can't Find Who Asked

sullyfortress

🌊MAMA FORT🌊

dopescissorscashwagon

Angel Eyes

cinemaglitz

CinemaGlitz.com