#death Tumblr posts

  • Predaking killing Starscream

    (I swear I love him, but sometimes seeing your favourite character in pain makes you feel more for them…)

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  • I can have a little death, as a treat. :)

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  • For the Phic Phight!

    @sylph-feather / hummingbird

    AO3: sylph_feather, FFN: sylph-feather

    ·        “I think it would be interesting to see Danny’s phantom form either more monstrous from the get go, or become monstrous in some way, and people’s reactions to that”


    It started with the bruises.

    Normal bruises are not pleasant. And color-wise, Danny’s bruises were just like the before. Before the portal. They were varying shades from blue, faint green, and a terrible black. Bruises still kept their nature, their function back when Danny was human. The broken and split blood vessels that got smashed and torn under the layers of skin. The varying pain, the sharp, the dull. The throbbing, the soreness – that remained the same, too. And all of that sameness made it so much more difficult for people to see the difference, to see what changed. Maybe for the better.

     Danny’s bruises became clammy, Danny’s bruises became soft all around the afflicted area. Soft, as if the skin and muscle, and if everything except the bone was rotting. The kind of softness that reminds him of a corpse rather than of something that bleeds.

     But at least, Danny would note during the dark nights after long hours of fighting ghosts, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling of his bedroom, it’s not something that’s noticeable.

     Not to the casual observer, anyway.

     And at least Danny still bleeds. Dead things don’t bleed. Dead things don’t bruise. Danny’s… something. But he isn’t dead.

    Then, as months pass, Danny learns that it was a mistake to take this fact as a comfort. Not when his cuts steadily loose its wine-like redness. Not when the shades shift from its healthy shade of molten rubies to a grey, awful color. A dead color. And that – that has to be a joke. To have a beating heart and blood pulsing through but for it to somehow look dead.

    Still, people don’t notice. Except for Sam and Tucker but they are completely, uncharacteristically silent for these matters. And what could they say really? Danny, go to the hospital. Danny, go to your parents. Danny, go to Vlad. They’ll fix you. They’ll have to fix you. A hospital that never met a thing like Danny? His parents, people, hunters that chase ‘Phantom’ for Danny’s atoms? Vlad, a man who has proven over and over that Danny was second to Vlad’s murderous, possessive, objective?

    In the end, it just became something they don’t talk about.

    So, Danny rots, quietly.


    “That’s going to get infected, you know,” Star said with a furrowed brow and wrinkled nose. “With all of that ink.”

    Danny looks at his hand, at the papercut on the pad of his thumb and the now black blood that drips down. He stares at it for a moment, before blinking and slowly turning to Star.

    “Uh, thanks.”


    When Danny starts to look in the mirror, he’s dulled. There’s no better way to describe it. His eyes, while still blue when human, lost all vividness, at least what he used to have. His hair before the portal, before all this madness and creeping rot, was brown. A dark brown, but a brown none-of-the-less. Only now, it was a dark, unforgiving black. All color from the shade of his skin, from the redness on his knuckles, fingertips, and cheeks, all ‘rosiness’ was gone. And he was blank. Completely blank, and people are noticing it. Staring. Worried, curious, avoiding glances, avoiding eye contact.

    Danny turns away from the mirror. Worried, yes. Curious, yes. But not suspicious. Never suspicious.

    It’s just a reflection. It wasn’t always his reflection, but it is now.

    There’s not much Danny can do about it, really.


    People don’t look at him, and they make a point, an effort not to do so.

    The school halls separate like the red sea.

    Dash and the others have stopped coming close to him, stopped touching him. They just… lingered. Like Vultures waiting for the desert hare to finally stop twitching its limbs.

    No. That wasn’t right.

    It doesn’t illustrate the full depth of it, of how gross it felt to be in his own skin. Of how, no matter how small he made himself he still feels predatory. And it’s not for reasons that are Danny’s fault. He’s not violent to them, he doesn’t attack them, not like with violent ghosts, he makes no move against them and he doesn’t want to. It is, it seems, how he makes them feel. From the way they flinch, from the way they recoil.

    It makes Danny nauseous.


    It started with bruises.

    With the hits, with the punches and the beating.

    Danny gives a wet, frantic laugh. The kind with a mouthful of blood and torn organs.

    Black blood. Because of course. Because of course, this is how it goes. How it ends. With a fight that went too far and with a night too dark without anyone in the alleyway without both Sam and Tucker, who had been asleep long ago.

    It should’ve gone how Danny imagined it. A coherent last thought, a final realization. A good-bye.

    Not anger, not grappling for awareness. Not the stillness.

    Not the blankness.

    #Danny Phantom#phic phight#death #main character death #warning! #Danny dies from being beaten to death #:( sorry#(not)#blood
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  • He looks to the left
    He looks to the right
    And there in a golden ray of light
    Is his open man
    Just like he planned
    The whole world is his tonight

    He’s got all kinds of time
    He’s got all kinds of time
    All kinds of time
    He’s got all kinds of time
    All kinds of time

    R.I.P. Adam Schlesinger, one of the greats.

    #all kinds of time #fountains of wayne #music#audio #welcome interstate managers #death#adam schlesinger#rip#mortality
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  • I’ve made up my mind

    I’ll be writing everyday about how I feel and my weight loss journey

    I don´t care if no one reads it

    i just need something to make me keep focused

    #dont want food #want to be thin #lose weight#eating disorder#binge eating#ed#proana #not pro ana #just using tags #thigh gap#thinspo#ana#skinny#death#depression #want to die #I wanna cry #want to disappear #hate food #I Hate Myself #fat#binge
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  • “I’m tired guys, I think I’m going to go to bed.”

    He raised the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.

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  • But as he did, a sentence flashed in his mind–

    This is not a Murder Mystery Bachelor Challenge, so unfortunately, your Sim will not die.”

    And so it was written–without an end point. It didn’t say “your Sim will not be murdered in the challenge”–it said, “your Sim will not die”. Whether or not that applied to non-violent deaths, from true accidents to illnesses to the mortals’ eventual natural deaths, would be a bridge he would have to cross eventually–but Rusty Nobody in front of him technically died a violent death, even if she wasn’t the intended victim. The sentence absolutely applied to her.


    Contractually, he had to spare Rusty, and he wasn’t happy about having his time wasted like that. He wished people would be a little more clear when defining when Sims can and cannot die.

    #nobody black widow challenge #2#3#4#5#death#murder
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  • He was hurt but it wasn’t bad, Monroe had dealt with worse, the pirate that hit him didn’t have very good aim anyway and he was able to work with this advantage, if Monroe could even call it that even if it was obvious this pirate had no idea how to wield a sword. It was just a normal day for the pirate hunter, Renwick had given up his search for Lizzy and her crew temporarily for the time being, they happened on this pirate ship by chance, Monroe and the others were just following orders, getting by as best they could while they’re captain was slowly going mad.

    Keep reading

    #my work#My writing#My characters#my ocs#Original Work#original writing#original characters#sad fic#character death#ferden#monroe#renwick#lizzie #I hurt my own feelings writing this #youre welcome#heart break#death #minor charactet death #im sorry#kind of #maybe a little #have a sad fic #cause ive been thinking about this for a while #Ferden's death #a heart broken monroe
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  • I’m a nurse working in A&E in the UK right now, I stumbled across this poem online but unfortunately there was no credited author (please let me know if you know who created this piece!). We will always put our patients first and we will always make the time to hold the hands of those that are scared and alone.

    Today I saw a nurse.

    Dressed head to toe in blue

    A mask, a gown, some gloves

    Fearlessly working for me and you.

    She moved from bed to bed

    Tirelessly doing all her checks

    But even in the midst of chaos

    Her kind words to me have great effects

    She said I’m here beside you

    Please do not despair

    This helped calm me down as my lungs gasped for air

    No visitors can come to me

    No flowers will pass my door.

    For a virus has come for us

    That makes our chest, throat and head sore

    Yet there is my angel

    Walking around the room

    Looking after us all

    And fighting off our gloom

    I watch her hold a patients hand

    And guide them to the light

    These nurses truly understand

    They’re full of courage and might.

    After each one passes

    She softly hides her cries.

    Then takes a little moment

    And mourns anyone who dies.

    Today I saw a nurse

    A mighty powerful person

    A hero, an angel, a friend.

    Helping people who have come to the end.

    Today I saw a nurse

    She stayed a while beside me

    That’s when I knew this awful curse

    Was going to come find me.

    I thought of all my family outside

    And those that I so love

    And felt a hand grab mine

    Through a blue powdered glove

    Today I saw a nurse

    She was there at the very end

    I felt the love pour from her

    As she held me like a friend

    So do not worry friends and family

    Stay safe at home and fight

    For today I saw a nurse

    And the light she had was bright

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  • Please, for the love of God, do NOT film someone jumping to their death. I just saw some and….my heart just dropped. I didn’t know that they could….bounce. Don’t kill yourself please! The virus will go away, things will get better. And DO NOT FILM SOMEONES DEATH!!!!!!!

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  • Animals that have died from choking to death on food in the wild must have been a really confusing experience for their friends.

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  • Imagine having a deadly peanut allergy in medieval Europe and then sailing to South America and trading for some shit you’ve never heard of called peanuts and you eat one and then just fucking die on the spot.

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  • image

    Oh so when frankenstein does it he “becomes one of the most famous fictional scientists ever” and “is amazing” but when i do it i’m a “monster” who “murdered my parents”

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  • A dear friend of mine just died… He was an elderly gay man, which I only mention because it’s fucking REMARKABLE he survived this long. He and his partner have had AIDS since the 80s. He helped normalize LGBT people. Just his presence in my life helped me accept myself as normal. 

    I was waiting to tell him I was trans. I only really accepted it a year ago, and I only see him a couple times a year. I felt he was the only person in my personal life who would understand what I’m going through. But between his AIDS and his diabetes… he started to decline. He couldn’t go to the normal events I would usually see him at.

    Still, I held out hope I could speak with him at least one more time before he went. 

    Now, of all times, he fell deathly ill (not with COVID, but with something just as dangerous to him). In the wake of the pandemic, no one could be with him. Not his husband. No one from the rest of his family. Especially none of his friends. No one. He died alone. 

    I’m beside myself. I can hardly process it. I’m sick because I couldn’t say goodbye. I couldn’t see him as my true self. And I’m horrified that he had no one… in the end when it would have mattered most…

    And even now, his family can’t see the body. They can’t give proper respects. His husband has AIDS and can’t go anywhere near the hospital or the body. There’s probably not even going to be a funeral. And even if there was, I can’t go to it. 

    My heart’s broken. I don’t even know how to process this. He was fucking intelligent, had a quick dry wit, and was easy for me to bond with. I haven’t seen him in almost two years…. and now I’ll never see him again. 

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