#tw: death Tumblr posts

  • auriibus
    17.09.2021 - 12 minutes ago

    My TikTok has become only Berries and Cream audio and I think that says volumes about my current mental state

    #i literally found out #for the SECOND TIME in my life #that a grandparent has died over FACEBOOK #and i wasnt called until over a day later #berries and cream is now how i cope apparently #tw death #ig ?
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  • leavemetoplaythesims
    17.09.2021 - 14 minutes ago

    befores from today:

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  • leavemetoplaythesims
    17.09.2021 - 19 minutes ago

    (x)

    #well whoops this happened #and it was a lot of fun #highly recommend#ts4#ts4 edit #the sims 4 #the sims 4 edit #my screenshots#my edit#simblr#death tw#fire tw#blood tw#swords tw
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  • mischievous-monster
    17.09.2021 - 27 minutes ago

    HEY remember that character thingy i did this morning ? here they are sorta :]

    more concepts

    #edit : did not mean to make it look like begonia was giving the other one the death grip #they were supposed to be gently holding xyr claws but i forgot to draw the other arm #ur allowed to reblog this one #cw body horror #tw body horror #nudity cw#doodle#my art#tv head#begonia#unfinished#wip#reference#crack doodle
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  • simultaneously-sick-and-calm
    17.09.2021 - 31 minutes ago

    Ever Onward and Ever Forward.

    »pairing: Man from the Railroad!Atsuhiro x fem!reader (teaser appearance: The Boy!Touya)

    »word count: 2.6k

    »Part 2 | IS IT A GOD INSIDE YOU, GIRL? (1st OGoA AU piece by @get-shiggy-with-it)

    »warnings: Appalachian folklore, monsterfucking (if you squint, smut is in part 2), implied tragedy (mine disasters, death of workers/children), some reader backstory, historical AU 1800's mining town, Old Gods of Appalachia podcast AU, 18+ MDNI

    »a/n: This piece is an addition to the Old Gods of Appalachia podcast au that my beloved @get-shiggy-with-it started as a part of a recent BNHAREM collab. We both love the podcast and we started talking about au ideas months ago and to this day literally cannot be stopped. I also WHOLEHEARTEDLY recommend the podcast to anyone that loves horror (/anthology) stuff so please do give it a listen if you are interested! Part two is nearly complete and will be out within the week! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in part 2 or any future works!

    The oppressive heat of summer finally began to dissipate at the turn of your calendar from August to September, and you breathed a small sigh of relief. Heat always made the work more dangerous for all the men that you saw trudge through your front hallway every day, but even more so for the small ones.

    Coal Boys.

    The Children--whose childhoods had been long traded for responsibility that they should never have been made to carry. A meager wage could be earned in return for days spent raking their small hands through bins of broken earth. Pieces of the soul of these mountains that bled soot over all who dared to tear them away from their great mother. Sorting them, packing them away correctly for later transport to the town below

    Every year at the same time, the death of summer—when the small town’s mourning children should be returning to the school yard—it seemed more and more of the boys ended up here instead. Wide smiles and plump cheeks better suited for bartering over the peppermints snatched from their schoolmaster’s desk, than for the toil they found in this place. Skin of every shade and color made darker by the heavy blanket of black dust that settled over cheeks turned gaunt by the first snowfall.

    That was the only thing that hadn’t changed after all these years, you thought. The oppressive darkness closed in from every twisting shaft of the mine, a presence that loomed over the heads of everyone in your small town. Something that would never usually hold a child’s attention, but for the beckoning of payment in the form of the few coins they were given at close of every week. Soot-stained and passing quickly from those small hands to larger ones more often than not. Used for an extra ounce of lamp oil for the family in the lean times, or a handful of peppermints from the general store if they were lucky.

    No one had to speak these wretched truths, they were just understood.

    Warnings were deeply ingrained into the minds of all who carved out a life for themselves in this particular expanse of the hills. First, that these many caverns and deep crevasses threw lifelines out as often as they signed death warrants. It was an ever present reminder that the world changed more and more every day. Wild places and soft forests like the ones where your childhood was spent became harder to find with each turn of the seasons. As you grew, the green of the wooded hills was consumed by the possibilities of a smaller world. Connected in ways that your ancestors just three generations back could never have imagined; and all of it was made possible by the aching backs and broken souls of men. Many of whom continued their work in one way or another even after the great maw of the mountain had swallowed them up.

    You knew the stories well, thanks in no small part to your grandmother. In later years, she pulled you aside at every spare moment and shared with you all the small parts of herself she could. Stories and wisdom passed along by word of mouth had always been the way of things in this land, and she made sure that you would carry those hidden warnings on when she couldn’t.

    Deep down, at the very heart of every tale she carefully weaved, they laid in wait. The ghosts of this place, the powers that you knew to be alive and well on this mountain. Things that were decidedly not what they appeared to the human eye. She warned you of many creatures, many a poor lost soul that you may someday have the misfortune of meeting should you linger alone near the great chasms. You never told her though, that you had met one already.

    Everyone who lived within 50 miles of the great gap you called home knew of The Boy. What they didn’t know was his name or the place where tragedy had befallen him. Some called him a harbinger of disaster, and others believed him to be a warning sign. Still others believed him simply a lost soul with no real purpose but to bring torment to the already broken families who had lost their own boys to the burning heart of this land.

    Always clutching a blue-flame lantern in one small hand, he was thought to have no voice of his own. Cursed in his long afterlife to steal only the voices of others lost since, but you knew this wasn’t true. You knew that the voice of this boy was soft and kind. Because once, when you were no higher than the cattails growing alongside the creek, he’d told you his name. Little did you know then, that your friend Touya with his shock of red hair--not the gentle auburn of family that lived down the road, but a color more akin to the ruby ring your grandmother wore to church on Sunday mornings--and eyes that shimmered too-blue like his strange lantern that always burned, was not like the other boys who you saw in school and at the mines every day. He felt so much older than the rest.

    They couldn’t have been so small when you were a girl, could they? Back then only faces that looked older than you passed by the windows of the parlor room--as your granddaddy referred to the small reception area of his offices where you finished your schoolwork in the golden afternoons. It was no more than a dedicated seating space across from the desk where you now worked, having taken your grandmother’s place when she passed.

    Had it been four years ago now, or five? You weren’t sure, and that made your heart feel heavy--not that it mattered much what you felt. So long as you were there every morning to open the door and wake your brother from his drunken sleep before your father arrived for the day, you could go about your work relatively unnoticed. You liked it- being unnoticed.

    Unnoticed was good when it came to the dynamics of your family.

    The old velvet sofa still smelled of her perfume, faintly now but enough that it made you feel safe and secure, even when things seemed to fall apart around you. Everyone said you had her temperament, and you did your best to honor the memory of her presence in the town.

    Just like her, you brought some small treat for the coal boys every Friday. All too often, the small grumbles of thanks and sounds of a moment’s content brought a tear to your eye. You loved them deeply - too deeply, your brother liked to say. So just like your grandmother before, you became the community's connection to your family's business. You held the hands of their mothers when tragedy struck, mourning alongside the families of the town when these small lives were crushed beneath the ceaseless march of industry.

    It was on one of those unfortunate days, that --upon returning to the offices after doing your best to comfort the wives of a pair of men who'd found themselves trapped in a self contained landslide in the newest tunnel-- you nearly ran headlong into the Man from the Railroad.

    “Oh! I’m so sorry sir, I...” you stumbled over your words almost as hard as you’d nearly stumbled right into his arms, but it didn’t seem to phase him much.

    Pulling yourself back from a beautiful Azure brooch secured to his broad chest by a green bolo tie, and a silk pocket square the color of the most stunning mountain sunset you'd ever seen, you found a man looming above you that could only be described as captivating.

    “Oh my Dear,” he drawled lazily, as though he hadn’t a care in this world. “It’s certainly me who needs forgiving. Couldn’t have something so beautiful as you end up spilled all over the floor, now could we?”

    Eyes like wet earth and raw honey held your gaze for a moment, before he removed his top hat and bowed with a flourish, the act revealing a head of rich brown hair to match. He was stunning. The suit he wore was perfectly tailored, snug to his body in all the right places, and dark. Blacker than black, like the deep shadows that sometimes lingered in the corners of your already darkened room at night. It reminded you of the chasms that lingered behind the mouth of the nearby caverns. Voids each one of them, and as such, they stood prepared to devour any light that came near enough to be felt.

    This man, though, didn’t feel like a void. He was charisma embodied, seeming for all intents like he was every bit of human potential made manifest. And he spoke like it too.

    “I suppose not,” you giggled girlishly. Finally, after somehow managing to shake yourself out of a too-long trance, you released the arm which had been steadying you and backed away. Unable to contain the smile that turned up the corners of your lips in response to the devilish smirk that remained ever-fixed upon his own.

    “My lady, I’m so sorry to be a bother to you, but I was hoping to speak with the proprietor of this fine establishment. Would you happen to know where I can find them?”

    “Oh, why yes! That would be my father or I suppose my brother could be just as helpful to you-tomorrow,” you fumbled back towards the desk a few more steps until the back of one thigh connected sharply with hard cedar. “Ow! God-dammit!”

    Once more you felt a hand take your waist, guiding you away from the offending edge. Not aggressively, but insistent like a dance partner. A good one too, nothing like the clumsy, wandering hands of all the boys you had to suffer through a two-step with during every Autumn’s harvest festival. “You’re a rather fiery one, aren’t you, my Dear?”

    “No! I’m just a bit clumsy is all, I...uh…”

    A smooth, resounding chuckle warmed you all the way through from tip to toe, but as his eyes lingered on yours that heat pooled itself under the skin of your cheeks and deep in the pit of your stomach.

    “Don’t you worry,” he added, the hand on your waist giving a squeeze, and shooting a wink in your direction that could have stalled your heart. “Your secret is safe with me.”

    A small act of reassurance that worked for a moment, but also made you all too aware of how close he still stood—made you aware of a void in you, that seemed to go unnoticed until this very moment. Deep and twisted, it left you feeling suddenly as though only he could fill it. Suddenly something inside you was tethered to him, desperate to remain close and soak up the answers to every question that long-filled the empty spaces in your mind. This overwhelming draw was more than odd, seeing as you didn’t even know this stranger's name.

    “My father doesn’t get into the office until about seven in the mornings, and unfortunately for you, Sir.” Your eyes cast toward the old grandfather clock that stood menacingly in the corner of the room, before returning them to his lithe form. “My brother is usually passed out over one bar or another by this time in the evening, but is there anything that I might be able to do for you?” You introduced yourself, giving a quick explanation of the way your family has been tied to this particular mine for a few generations now.

    The earth in his gaze was suddenly deeper, darker than before as he deftly slid the nimble fingers of one hand into one of his waistcoat pockets. That darkness accompanied by a single flash of something you had seen just a handful of times before when you’d been unfortunate enough to come across the path of a hunting cougar crouched carefully in thick underbrush--Hunger. Embers that had settled into your stomach blazed up, hotter than before, and you stifled the urge to press closer still.

    “Oh, my Darling..” came the words cooed too softly, that devil’s smirk lingering now just a breath away. He chuckled again at the hitch in your breath when he shifted slightly, allowing the front of his body to brush against yours briefly as one of your hands was lifted gingerly from your side. “I am certain that there is a great deal that you will do for me, but let's just start with this, hmm?”

    A business card—smooth on the flats but sharp-edged all the same—found its way into the safety of your palm and your heart leapt at the sensation of his long fingers curling over yours to close them over the glossy black surface. They proceeded then to turn your hand and pull it gently toward lips pursed and waiting to press tenderly into the flesh of your knuckles.

    You stood frozen in place, suddenly certain that the heat you felt flooding your face would consume you completely... Until he finally pulled away, the tips of his fingers still holding surely onto your closed hand.

    "Give that to your brother for me, if you would be so terribly kind. And do let him know that I have a business proposition that's just to die for."

    Finally releasing your hand, and stepping toward the door he bowed before you again. And with the same dramatic flair, returned his hat to its proper place and moved to make his exit.

    "Sir, wait!"

    He paused, yet another knowing grin snaked its way slowly from one cheek to another before he turned to you. "Yes, my dear?"

    "Who exactly, am I supposed to tell him came calling at this hour of the night?"

    "Well, I suppose you can just tell him that I work for The Railroad."

    Suddenly you felt that rush of something again. That same yearning to close the ever-widening gap between your bodies, and it made you feel brave for what may well have been the first time in your entire life. "Alright then, I can tell him that 'The Man from the Railroad' is looking for him, if you like. But what should I call you?"

    Darkness clouded the warm brown of his eyes once more while he seemed to consider you for a long moment.

    "Atsuhiro Sako." The name rolled off his tongue almost hesitantly, as if it sounded foreign even to him. "You, my Dear, may call me Atsuhiro."

    And with that, he was gone. Out the door and into the cover of nightfall once again faster than you could even allow the shape of his name to fall from your parted lips. Leaving you there, with nothing of himself but the sleek black card still closed safely in your palm. When you finally peeled your eyes from the void into which he’d vanished, you noticed that the card was not the only thing you held. There in your carefully outstretched hand, nestled safely beside the shiny black card--with its beautifully monogrammed ‘R’ and tracks crossed behind it, was a single blue marble.

    #sako atsuhiro x reader #mha mr compress #sako atsuhiro #mr compress x reader #Old Gods!AU #tw death #tw mentions of mine accidents #tw tragedy
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  • childrenoflight-darkness-nothing
    17.09.2021 - 43 minutes ago

    and then

    #do we get #nyar shaking a panicking a blade in his hand #jace offered him the choice of what was to be done #he decided #he said he was going to do it #he should be able to do it #but right there in the moment he cant #he falters #and in the hesitation; if lillians able to speak if they havent made it to where she cant; undeserving of last words as she is #shes taunting him; calling him weak. a snear and disdain on her face even then #and if she cant he can still hear her say it; having heard her so many times about different things before #do we get jace stepping in; gently pulling the blade from his hands; eir blade loaned to him for the occasion #a hand on the back of his neck; ensuring he can see em; asking a silent question #a moment of silent communication and understanding and reassurance between them both #do we get jace telling lillian that a weak man wouldve never made it through her torment #do we get jace killing her quickly before meeting the eye of every occupent in the room aside from nyar #only a few of eir most trusted; there in case thungs went wrong; there to witness #they wont speak a word #tw death#tw killing #tw character death #ask to tag
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  • bhramarii
    17.09.2021 - 51 minutes ago

    The Annunciation

    #artists on tumblr #tw animal death #tw gore
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  • trash-jsab
    17.09.2021 - 56 minutes ago
    #tw: death mention #/j#trASH speaks
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  • luthers-crusty-cum-sock
    17.09.2021 - 1 hour ago

    Babies crying

    Children dying

    Oh look a cannibal

    What a weird animal

    That somehow made friends with a murderer

    Oh look he murdered her

    The beautiful act of matricide

    Next up mass genocide

    The blood is pooling everywhere

    The smell of death is in the air

    But he’s walking around without a care

    Until he hears the sirens blare

    Oh no the police are here

    But it’s okay he has a spear

    The cops now run away in fear

    So the cannibal and the murderer let out a cheer

    #tw police violence #tw muder #tw violent language #tw cannibalism#tw genocide #tw children death
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  • shepard-ram
    17.09.2021 - 1 hour ago
    #ask#ask game#❄🐉 anon #tw. death #eeeeeehhh i guess
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  • music-movies-mayhem
    17.09.2021 - 1 hour ago

    I just started the new Horror Story episode but if that annoying brat kills that baby I'm suing Ryan Murphy

    #i can't stand alma #everything else is going great though #sort of #american horror story #american horror story double feature #tw: death
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  • thesundownsystem
    17.09.2021 - 1 hour ago

    Sean: Aeikt they have a fictive of Mike send a message to him

    Aeikt: fine you little shit

    Sean, like two minutes later: ask if my funeral was lame

    Aeikt: I am not asking if your funeral was lame Sean

    Sean: I'll ask him myself then.

    Aeikt: motherfucker no

    #this went on for way too long before Sean gave up on asking if his funeral was lame #but he still wants to ask #this dumbass#fictive heavy#fictive alter#fictives#fictive#osdd memes#osdd support#did osdd #dissociative identity disorder #otherwise specified dissociative disorder #it looks like this #Sean Rossini #Sean posts the Sundown System #aeikt posts the Sundown System #the Sundown System #tw death
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  • danneelsmain
    17.09.2021 - 1 hour ago

    Rocky threw up again earlier today and now I’m worried he’s gonna do it again. I can see the pain in his eyes and it makes me feel awful. I have no idea if we’re taking him in tonight or tomorrow morning, we’ll have to see what my dad says. But I don’t think he’ll make it past this weekend. Or a whole other week, he’s not eating, he’s drinking water but he’s lost so much weight too his collar almost came off because he’s skinnier than usual.

    we have to spare him this pain and I still can not be okay over the decision, it’s the best for him but I’m not gonna be happy in any way. I hate the concept of dogs dying and my lovely Rocky Balboa has been through so much. I can’t lose him.

    #tw: dog death #tw: starvation
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  • take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar
    17.09.2021 - 1 hour ago

    {Post Trauma Sentence Starters | Accepting}

    @nacreousxhearts​​​ sent: “you’ve been crying. i can tell.” //~🐍

    Sitting at a lone corner of the bar he'd decided to kill time in for the evening, surrounded by faces that weren't in any way familiar, not that he was bothered by that fact... Minato had figured that maybe this was a spot where he could let off current stresses without anyone really noticing. Which, at first was a light hearted enough thought, but... The longer he sat here, with just a few drinks and his thoughts, it ended up shaping up into something else all together.

    Having rested his head in folded arms across the counter, he felt thankful that no one was paying him any mind... No longer paying much attention to the background noise of music and crowds as his building frustrations bubbled over to wet his cheeks. Ugh... What the fuck was he doing? Crying in the corner of a bar? That wasn't like himself at all... Despite these thoughts, though, the dampness on his sleeve was still slowly soaking in.

    Had it been the doe who unfortunately lost her litter? Or having to relay that news back to his brother for both the sake of record keeping, but also just so he wasn't alone in having that information... Well, the other shop staff knew too of course, but, that was different. Or was it the date plans that he'd been hoping to set up after work falling through? By this point, the blonde wasn't sure anymore... But either way, today was just total shit.

    Sucking in a slightly shaky breath, Minato went to raise his head after a few moments, intent on stepping outside after wiping the remaining wetness from his face. Once outside, he was just shy of lighting the cigarette pulled from his pack, when he noticed a woman walking up. He didn't regard her with a full on look, but still glanced up from behind his bangs while taking that first puff of smoke. Her words caught him off guard, however. Slight surprise coming to his face for a brief moment before he looked off with a grimace.

    "So what if I was?..." Not quite as biting as his usual self, but still an effort to put walls back up. He couldn't really deny the obvious, what with the red that framed golden hues... But still, it wasn't like he was going to lay himself out that easily.

    #nacreousxhearts#{|ic|}#{|rp|}#{|cross over|} #{|ooc: a verse wasn't settled on fully for this-- so-- who those plans were with are up for debate lol--|} #{|ooc: and while i'm not usually one for tw tags-- just because that mention also hurt me to include--|} #tw: animal death mention
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  • wanderingpages
    17.09.2021 - 1 hour ago
    #asks #sorry to get dark on 2 #tw mentions of death
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  • ask-scp-aisling
    17.09.2021 - 1 hour ago
    #ash.txt #tw death mention
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  • 12pt-times-new-roman
    17.09.2021 - 1 hour ago

    /rp

    so uh

    quackity, dream, and even techno himself sure were acting like techno's only got one life left, weren't they?

    quackity kept saying how he'd kill them both and it'd all be over with, that dream would have to use the book on techno. and we know that dream only has one life left, so that makes sense. but quackity has canonically died before, he's seen canon deaths before, he's canonically killed people before. quackity knows that techno would just respawn -- we know (iirc) that sam always breaks the beds used for searches in the prison so people can't set their spawn, and there's no bed in the Vault, so it's not like he'd spawn back in the prison. if quackity had killed him then, he knows that techno would just spawn at the server's spawnpoint -- and quackity was 100% going to kill techno if philza didn't activate the stasis chamber. "just like you did to me. I'll put this pickaxe through your fucking teeth."

    quackity would not have attempted to kill techno if he'd just respawn outside the prison. he went through all that trouble to get techno there, to keep him there -- and as insufferable as he is, quackity is not an idiot. he would know that techno would just respawn if he had more than one life.

    and what about philza? he probably knows more about the three lives system than most of the people on the server, as old as he is, and like quackity he's seen people respawn (and not respawn) from canon deaths. think about how calm philza was during the execution, laughing from his balcony, watching the whole thing like a play -- there's no way techno wouldn't tell his oldest and most trusted friend about the totem. philza knew that techno wouldn't die then, he knew he had the totem, and so he watched. doing nothing. waiting. because he knew that techno would live.

    but with the prison? it was never "even if techno dies, he'll be one life down and he'll respawn and come back home." it was never "man, I hope he doesn't die, having two lives would suck for him." it was never that. it was always "wills are for people who are already dead. but technoblade never dies, right?"

    I've seen suspicions about this floating around for a while but imo this stream kinda solidified them. and, well... that certainly makes dream's favor a lot more significant, doesn't it?

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  • mister-jekyll
    17.09.2021 - 1 hour ago

    An Alternate End.

    Triggering Warning: attempted suicide, guns, injury, and mentions of murder/death.

    Summary: Mr. Utterson and Poole break down the cabinet door of Dr. Jekyll’s laboratory. Instead of coming in too late, they came at the right time to stop Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde from killing himself. It’s in Mr. Utterson’s first person perspective.

    The first lines are lifted from “Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” by Robert Louis Stevenson, but in first person point of view.

    Character(s): Mr. Utterson, Poole, and Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde.

    Note, this is my adaptation of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

    ——————————————————————————

    “Jekyll," I cried in a loud voice, "I demand to see you." I paused for a moment. There was no reply. "I give you fair warning, our suspicions are aroused, and I must and shall see you," I resumed; "if not by fair means, then by foul—if not of your consent, then by brute force!"

    I immediately heard a reply.

    "Utterson," said the voice, "for God's sake, have mercy!"

    That voice didn’t belong to my friend Harry Jekyll.

    It was the voice belonged to that ginger fiend known as Edward Hyde, the murderer of Sir Danvers Carew… and Dr. Henry Jekyll. My friend of over 40 years.

    I held the poker tightly with the grip of my hand.

    "Ah, that's not Jekyll's voice—it's Hyde's!" I cried to the butler. "Down with the door, Poole!”

    Henry’s manservant, Robert Poole, swung the axe against the door’s lock. I felt it shook the whole building. From the door, I heard the murderer scream and panic. It sounded almost like a man arguing with himself in the cabinet.

    After the fifth and final strike of the axe, the lock broke. I soon heard a small noise behind the cabinet. It sounded like the loading of a revolver.

    “I think the master held his father’s old revolver in there,” Poole said to me quietly.

    I nodded my head, and I opened the cabinet door slowly.

    The fiend pointed the revolver at us then he immediately pointed it to his temple. Something was off with Hyde’s appearance. While I could barely see it, due to my partial blindness, I knew something was strange. The clothes on the murderer were of Henry’s size, they were wearing Henry’s glasses, its hair was tied, and his eyes weren’t the unnatural green… they were red.

    “Hyde,” I said in a calm tone, “put down the revolver down…” I never used this tone of voice for anyone besides for Henry. I used it after his wife and son’s funeral to keep him calm. It always seemed to calm him. Even after all these years.

    Poole didn’t entirely knew how to stop Hyde from ending himself, but he put the axe down. I knew he wanted justice for both the murder of Carew and his master.

    Hyde continued to held the revolver to its temple. They began to cry, “Gabriel… don’t…”

    Gabriel.

    Gabriel.

    Why did Hyde call me by my first name? We were never close. He probably hated me as I followed him to Henry’s back door and helped investigate the murder of Carew. I tried to ignore it.

    “Listen to me…” I said in that same calm tone, “Ending your life won’t solve—“

    I stopped myself when I saw Hyde about to pull the trigger but his free hand grabbed his own wrist. His eyes were green.

    “I won’t let you kill our own body!” Hyde yelled angrily and tried to move the hand that held the revolver down from his temple.

    Bang.

    Hyde fell to the floor. Poole and I went over to them quickly. He shot himself in the left leg. Poole restrained Hyde, and I pulled the revolver away from it. I dropped the poker and saw Hyde bleed from his nose. Their eyes were red again.

    “Let go!” Hyde pushed himself away from Poole and limped to the other side of the cabinet, “Look away, now!”

    His voice almost sounded like Henry’s at the end and Poole immediately turned us around to not face him. We both heard the most horrific scream we ever heard. When about five minutes have passed, we turned to face the murderer.

    Instead of seeing the fiend, we saw Henry Jekyll.

    Poole and I immediately went over to him in pure confusion and panic.

    No, no… that can’t be.

    Henry tried to get the revolver from my hand but I moved away from his reach.

    “Sir—,” Poole said and held Jekyll almost like one does for their child, “I’m not going to lose you— not like that—“

    Henry began to panic and started sob. “The demon! He—!” He said and sobbed harder into Poole’s arms.

    “Poole, take your master to his room,” I said to Poole, “Tell the rest of the staff to head to bed. I’ll investigate the cabinet.”

    “If I sleep, it’ll come—“ Jekyll was about to finish, but Poole helped him to from the laboratory and to his room as he couldn’t walk on his left leg.

    I looked around the cabinet and then at the revolver in my hand.

    What in god’s name just happened?

    #hyde writings #dr. jekyll and mr. hyde #jekyll and hyde #jekyll & hyde #henry jekyll#edward hyde#gabriel utterson #gabriel john utterson #dr. jekyll #mr. hyde #mr. utterson #tw sewerslide#tw injury #tw mention of murder #tw mention of death #tw guns
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  • takinghisbow
    17.09.2021 - 1 hour ago

    @rosanimemuses​ asked: ❝ " Can I talk to Kokichi? " 'Kaito' post game @ Tsuna ❞ ( random ask )

    𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞. How could it be? The world had finally rebuilt itself, her brother young enough to not have witnessed the worst of it. And then she had found out the harsh reality: the Remnants were not all gone. Something that should have been swiftly crushed had swept under the radar, and Kyuichi had been a victim of it. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭, those nights of staying up staring at the forced broadcast on television, no way of knowing it was all false, would continue to haunt her. The false blood spilt by her brother-who-wasn’t-quite-her-brother-anymore kept her awake.
    He was home, but not permanently. He remembered her, but not enough. And Tsuna? 𝐓𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞. Trying to help him. Trying to keep them both afloat until he inevitably ran off to figure himself out. Trying to not worry about whether he would come back.
    The knock at the door was a welcome distraction from her thoughts, Kokichi holed up in his room. Still, when she opened the door and saw 𝐡𝐢𝐦, her heart skipped a beat.
    “. . . Kaito, right?” (𝐇𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.) Was he still going by that name? Kokichi had expressly made the choice to keep his new name; had this one? Her voice was unsteady as she continued, “I’m not sure he feels up to talking.” (It had been Kokichi’s plan, but he hadn’t had to agree.) “But you’re free to try. He’s in his room,” she gestured down the hall. “Last door on the right. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤.”
    She didn’t want to hold this boy accountable for all that happened, but the vision of the press still 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝. But if Kokichi didn’t hate him, she could bite her tongue.
    #| THE WORLD BROKE APART / WE STAYED STANDING ( creating illusions ) | #[ ask ] #rosanimemuses #| it tore my world apart ( tsuna akanishi ) | #((thank you for this gift [sobs])) #((tsuna knows kaito isn't a bad guy but obv she's still bothered by everything that happened) #death mention tw #blood mention tw #murder mention tw
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  • burningpaths-ffxiv
    17.09.2021 - 1 hour ago

    FFXIV WRITE 2021 // Prompt #14 Commend

    🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑🛑

    Trigger Warning - This prompt includes depictions of violence, bodily injury, blood mentions and murder.

    Read at your own discretion.

    Glass shattered as Shear was slammed into a window frame, the cascading sound of the shards falling out of the window to the stone of the walkway below.

    Claws bit into the delicate skin of a dark skinned shoulder while teeth sank into the side of his target’s neck. His knees clenched around his torso as the figure he clung to realized he had not followed the glass shards out the window and spun on his heels again. A heavy fist slammed into the veena’s shoulders and head, the thickly muscled elezen grappling over his shoulder for the viera clinging to him like a barnacle. Aether flooded into the points of contact and and one searching dusky hand finally gripped a blonde ear, giving a yank. Shear yelped, releasing his hold.

    “Got you, you shit!” The elezen man panted, holding Shear perched on his toes by one blonde ear while bleeding from multiple points from the viera’s claws and teeth. “Fucking animal! Cur!”

    The sunset toned, mismatched eyes watched as the man in front of him touched gingerly to his hips and shoulders, ending at touching where Shear’s teeth had clamped in painfully with his free hand. Additional claw swipes ran across one thigh and had gouged into his other leg’s calf. “What manner of beast attacks someone in their home with claws and teeth!? I’ll have you thrown from Witchdrop for this!”

    “Mmn, no. I do not think you will.” Balling up saliva and blood in his mouth, Shear spat it towards the fuming duskwight’s face. The other man hissed when it landed with a splat squarely to one cheek, sliding down it and leaving a wet red streak in its wake.

    “Disgusting wretch!” Heaving the viera towards one wall, Shear went willingly and grunted when his back hit the delicately wallpaper covered wall. Stars danced in front of his vision at the force of the toss. A hand rose to wipe at the blood around his mouth with the heel of one palm.

    “Your servant Nemieu and your wife Dozitte send their regards.” The viera spoke loud enough to be heard but not louder, calm and collected even after he was manhandled.

    “You dare speak about my whore wife and that horndog betrayer?!” The elezen took a few sharp steps forward, crossing the room and gripping Shear by his neck with a firm squeeze. His unburdened fist raised and struck between blonde brows. The rings along the colliding fingers caught pale skin, a trickle of blood gliding down around Shear’s nose and mouth. Gritting his teeth, both of the viera’s hands came up to clap around the man’s squeezing wrist.

    “A-ah, y-you-- hnnn,” Shear gasped as the man squeezed and slid him up further on the wall. His mouth dropped open, growing gradually limp.

    “Yes, you little monster? Nothing smart to say now, hm?” Leaning their faces close, the elezen grinned wide in his perceived victory and narrowed blue eyes on the lax viera.

    “Y-you are too close for w-what’s about to h-happen.” Shear suddenly perked to life, hooking two fingers between his neck and his opponent’s palm. Pulling it at and dragging claws into the soft web between the grasping forefinger and thumb.

    “SHIT!” Releasing Shear sharply, his hand shook and he threw his leg out instead. Shear dodged to the side and rolled, the kick landing instead into the wall. Swearing again and spinning, the elezen readied himself for a lunge but stumbled when he took a step toward the crouched figure. His palms pressed to his bleeding hips with confusion rising on his face.

    “W-why-?” The man’s legs wobbled before he collapsed to his knees, a faint white light spreading from both of his injured hips. The rising soft light also rose from the slashes and gouges along his legs and the injuries along his shoulder and neck. “What kind of poison is this?! Where is this tingling coming from?! E-explain!”

    “No.” Shear propped himself up from the floor and sprinted behind the couch, pulling the afghan blanket from the back of it over him and ducking for cover.

    “I demand you c-cease this immedi-!” The elezen’s yelling pitched into a scream, a cracking wet splatter following as if a watermelon had been dropped from a great height to something solid. The sounds of the debris hitting the couch and walls echoed in the sudden silence in Shear’s ears, only a faint dripping coming from somewhere above.

    Shear lifted the afghan off himself and stood slowly. His impassive gaze cresting the couch to spy the twitching, larger remains of the elezen in the middle of his sitting room piled in a heap. The rest of his pieces spread across the carpet and the hung decorative paintings.

    “Your wife will be much prettier without your fist discoloring her.” Bundling the afghan up around his hand, Shear stepped carefully between wet pools and gristle leftover from the torn apart man towards the broken window. Breaking the rest of it out with the blanket-wrapped hand, Shear unfolded it and laid it over the sill. His ungloved palm pressed to the wall beside the window, searing an oversized blackened handprint there before escaping.

    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

    “He’s late.” Kolli snapped, annoyed as he paced the length of their room. Bent ears swayed as he turned from one end of it and proceeded back.

    “Trust him, Kolli. He’ll be here when he gets here. You’ll wear a line in the lovely flooring with that.” Kalona lounged in an armchair, flipping pages of a newspaper.

    A hyuran man and an elezen woman sat together on the couch across from the armchair. Both sets of eyes were watching the pacing man, somewhat nervous by the mixed emotions they were reading from the two viera.

    “Fuck you.” Another annoyed grunt but Kolli leaned next to the door instead, arms crossing. A finger tapping on his bicep while he tuned into the hallway outside the room.

    “U-um, just so we’re c-clear…?” The hyuran man spoke up quietly and Kalona flipped one corner of the newspaper down.

    “Hm? Oh, do you have a question? Please.” The paper was folded and set aside, Kalona leaning his rather large frame forward and clasping his palms together to offer the two an assuring smile. “Ask away.”

    “I- I am to find the master in his s-study in the m-morning, alert the l-lady of the house a-and then the g-guard, correct?” A swallow and the elezen woman tucked closer to his side in an effort to comfort him.

    “Quite right. It’s well known that the lady of the house drinks a rather strong drink at night to sleep, so she would have heard nothing, and your Lord sends the servants to their homes now so no one should be awake or there to otherwise find him. Don’t forget your usual tea set, I hear shattered porcelain makes quite the ensuring effect of someone finding a body believable.” Nodding to the man, Kalona cocked his head. “From there the investigation goes simply. You found your murdered employer, alerted the lady, and immediately called the guard. Quite simple, hm?”

    “There will be questions,” The elezen woman spoke softly and turned her face towards Kalona who tried - and failed - to hide the pity on his face at the state of it. “I will be implicated, of course.”

    “Oh sweet lady, worry not. In the state you are in, no one could believe you overpowered your husband to do such a thing. Do you need more tea?” Kalona motioned towards the clay pot set on the table beside him and she shook her head carefully.

    “You are kind, but no, thank you. You’re quite sure your man will be able to handle him? He is… stronger than he looks.” A delicate hand rose to touch at one cheek, bruised eyes sliding from Kalona to her lap.

    “You have far too pretty eyes to stare at your skirts so. No offense meant, Nemieu.” The rava leaned back in his armchair, one leg crossing over his knee at the ankle while he addressed the hyur.

    “None taken, I agree. It’ll be o-okay Dozitte,” Swallowing and smiling bravely, Nemieu pulled Dozitte into a hug that she gratefully sank into.

    “You are unaware of the details, so that will be better for you both. Genuine reactions to the scene will lend credence to the narrative. Simply channel your grief at the loss of a husband and the loss of a friend and your justice will proceed from there. Besides, Shear will be leaving his calling card and that will sway the investigation off you, or the rest of your staff for that matter. You said you are unable to wield aether, correct?” Kalona’s green eyes shifted back to the woman, who nodded carefully against the shoulder she was pressed into.

    “That’s correct, yes. Only Lord Saupionne of the house wielded any amount of aether. He never wished to be-”

    “Hoy. Shh.” Kolli spoke from his position, head turning and eyes narrowing on the door. A hand rose and the room fell into a sudden silence. His other hand lowered to pull the bowie knife partially out of the sheath strapped along his back.

    Footsteps then, behind the door, and a familiar knocking on it. The sound came in three, a pause, then two, then one. Kolli waited for the rapping signal to complete before he clipped the knife closed and opened the door. The hood on his jacket was up and lightly covered in snow, but the bloodied face of the familiar veena came into view clearly as he stepped into the room.

    Shutting the door behind him, Kolli gave Shear a clap on his shoulder with a broad grin. “Fucking took you long enough!”

    “See, there you have it. We’ll return the lady to her room now and you’ll stay here until the morning, as you would normally, Nemieu. Make sure the morning keeper at the counter sees you leave, give them a good morning perhaps, and go about your morning duties as you would any other day. Sweet lady, don’t forget to actually take your drink, and under no circumstances, do not go into that sitting room unless they bid you to. Which they might.”

    Both of the figures on the couch nodded and the woman stood. Kolli moved towards the window, pushing it open.

    “Thank you, Kalona.” The woman gave a deep curtsey while the larger rava waved as he stood.

    “Think nothing of it, and hopefully, have a better life. Both of you. We’ll likely not see each other again, but may Halone bless you both, hm?” Stepping towards Shear and giving his shoulder a squeeze, the rava led the viera back out of the door and down the hall.

    Kolli scooped up the elezen woman to his back and murmured for her to hang on tightly before climbing out of the room to get her into position without walking the streets and possibly being seen, moving carefully and quietly.

    Nemieu shut the window behind them, turning and flopping face first on his bed. It was going to be a long couple of weeks but finally, finally, they were free.

    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

    In a different room, Kalona helped Shear out of his jacket and grabbed the first aid kit from his bag. “One of these days you’ll complete a simple mission without coming back bleeding.”

    “He was stronger than he looked.” Easing down onto the edge of the bed and scooting onto it, Kalona sat beside him to clean the cuts along his forehead. “Though I was told he had aether abilities, so I expected more of that. He never used them.”

    “Perhaps he chose not to, considering your stature.” Shrugging, Kalona dabbed at the bleeding lightly with a cotton boll. “Did you sense anything amiss with him otherwise?”

    “Well, no. He certainly reeked of aether use, but he just… Didn’t.” Flinching when the cleaning solution got through the caked scabs that had already formed, Shear grimaced.

    Murmuring an apology, Kalona proceeded to clean his face anyway, holding Shear’s face still with his other hand. “Then all the better. Likely, he couldn’t without a focus, and you might have caught him without it.”

    “Mmn, true.” Settling his chin in Kalona’s hold, Shear gave a yawn and let his eyes drift closed.

    “I am sure you did very well otherwise, Shear. Thank you for accepting the mission.” The boll was set aside, tiny butterfly bandages pressed and pulled across the different open marks. “I’m very proud of the progress you’ve made.”

    A shy smile tugged at one corner of the veena’s mouth. “Thank you, Kalona.”

    “You’re very welcome, Shear.”

    #ffxivwrite2021#Shear Kinestti#ffxiv#new muse#tw: violence#tw: murder#tw: death#tw: blood#tw: gore #in which i write EVEN MORE NPCs #its fine may these two live happily ever after #PRAISE PRAISE PRAISE PRAISE #Look Shear might have a praise kink and its not his fault #prompt 14#commend
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