#/death

[splinterclan]

Moon 12: Wingstep ;___; You did good; have a long rest old bird <3

[sin-simps]

What if we were trapped in a time loop and we could never escape?

{enjoying my little theory and wanted to make a quick doodle, warning for blood and death}

[hellodahliah]

son of the grim reaper: PROLOGUE

previous / beginning / next

it is said life flashes before your eyes before you die.

(click on the gifs to get a better resolution)

gif 13:

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olive: grim!

olive: sorry i mistook you for someone i knew.

ichabod: wait! are you looking for the grim reaper? I might be able to help you with that.

----

gif 22.

olive: when i found you... it was too late. i only had days left, and you barely recognized me. i wish i had said something to you that day... because all i wanted to say, i am sorry. love, your mom.

[desalvar]

nikodemus' immortality was achieved in phases. he became functionally immortal at age 17 after the krilneian massacre and mass reaping of hundreds of souls, which provided power for full reanimation after each death suffered henceforth. but that didn't stave off the progression of his natural life cycle. it only spared him the consequences of death, not time. he would go on to achieve full immortality 11 years and multiple tinkerings with the gift later when one of his resurrections not only returned him to full health but erased any trace of time suffered past the age of 28. he could grow old at his leisure, bear terrors and scars as he wished, even give himself up to insanity, all with the knowledge death would regrow and return to him all physical structures pristine and in their prime. the gift became a grounding point in time for him, physically, magically and mentally as storage of all his progress and recollection.

nikodemus still ages between his deaths, given the time and desire to do so. even die of natural causes. when posing as human, he lets time make a mark on him, but notably dislikes the weight and sluggishness of old age. far from a graceful process for him, it tends to often come with consequences of a reckless, hungry youth he'd rather not dwell on. the hip he sprained once upon a time progresses to a limp at 40, cataracts befall him at 50, forgetfullness at 80. he always makes for a grumpy, taciturn elder.

[eranthiss]

"Okay, so, just gotta reinstate the fact that It is On Sight - and I'm taking his Hydreigon and giving it the treatment it deserves. Understood? If sighted, you have permission, nay, encouragement to use lethal force. Whatever you need to do to take his Pokémon. Understood?"

The new batch of Patrol Staff look a little... Offput by her willingness to kill, but these are all the new rookies. At least two are younger than her. But they all should have lived through the Plasma Crisis. They should understand. Iris straightens, and breathes deeply

"Most of you should be old enough to remember the Crisis. You should remember the Cities frozen solid by power stolen from Kyurem Herself. Some of you may have lost family in the disasters. I had to pick my way through the frost shattered mess of Opelucid and helped pick the bodies out of the rubble. One of them had just beat the Opelucid gym the day before. My neighbour's husband. All the people in and around the New Tower block where Kyurem's blast hit. I want us to take vengeance on their behalf. I failed you once. I shan't do it again."

...

"Understood?

A chorus of "Yes ma'am's" echo the halls, and Iris relaxes, and grins widely. "Aight, scarper. I'm gonna go get coffee."

She thinks it's about time to end this farce

[bunnysisu]

47’s (my ex’s) mom died of cancer on the tenth. they aren’t holding services for her and i am so sick right now and so sad.

01.21.24

[bloodydumpsterrp]

𝗔 𝗗𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗥𝗲𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 - death. gore (mild). blood.

𝗧𝗟𝗗𝗥 - Some memories are best left forgotten in the depths of one's mind. Time from time, however, they float back to replay what they recorded.

The clash of metal echoes as a warrior's loyal sword meets the edge of a rogue's cunning dagger.

Right behind you, you can feel the metallic impacts as bitter blade connect in the exchange. Your matesprit- your partner in the ambitious quest- fends off the fearsome warrior who has held claim over this hoard for too long. To most players, he is the bane or aspiration of their existence; his title bathed in fear and awe. However, to the two of you, he's someone you've taunted for several sessions. Though his achievements are paraded to the public and yours clandestine, each of you understand that you are all on par with one another. A unspoken respect had been held for several sweeps but that all changed just a few weeks ago when he brazenly declared a crusade against your shadowy reign of terror and invaded a portion of your territory- the place that bore witness to many happy moments between you and your partner. An untainted retreat of sorts for the two of you.

A personal attack.

You can't say what caused the sudden shift in his judgment nor do you really care. What you care about is making it clear that he chose the wrong duo to mess with. He took something special from you. You were going take everything he had stolen.

Your almost done with the finishing touches to your apparatus. Originally you two had schemed to steal everything from the hoard he had accumulated from his crusades against others. 'Toss the riches to the masses,' as your partner had put it. But deep down inside, you wanted something more destructive. He had taken something special from you. You were going to burn everything.

Your class wasn't exactly built for destruction. Your partner was the one to focus on that. Yours was focused on utility and crafting gear and various apparatuses. So you needed time for your new ability to load. Just a few more moments and you could apply the affect.

The clash of metal echoes as a warrior's loyal sword meets the pile of gold coins covering the floor.

He steps back. Blue blood richer than yours seeps between the golden chainmail. A hand is held up. A wordless plea for mercy. Your partner lowers the dagger out of respect. Your apparatus is almost complete. You focus in on the remaining parts to connect.

The clash of metal echoes as a heavy shield is thrown against a statue built in the likeness of the warrior.

The fractured leg crumbles and the statue tumbles down from the weight of itself. For someone painted so righteous, he used a rogue's trick to win.

The cracking of bones echoes as a body is crushed beneath heavy stone and gold.

Blood seeps through the rumble and slithers around the gold coins covering the floor. Crushed organs and ripped skin are the only things to tell you who- what was crushed.

Your gaze hovers over the mess that has been splattered. Soon it follows the blood trail that is slowly pouring towards the culprit as heavy breathing pushes its way out of your chest. His mouth moves, attempting to say something to calm you but you don't hear anything. Your apparatus is now ready.

He had taken something special from you. You were going to take everything he had stolen.

..

...

....

...

..

Your eyes peel open. Rain taps against the glass of your apartment's windows. You did it yet again. Fell asleep on your sofa instead of your recuperacoon. If you're going to keep doing this, you should at least keep some sopor slime cream nearby to keep those troublesome visions at bay.

[hawkeabelas]

you're allowed to say "sex" on the internet. See? I just did it. Sex. Sex sex sex. You don't have to say s*x or smex or Adult Fun Times or s3x or "spice" any other variation of self-censorship on tumblr dot com you can just spell out the word SEX i am going to scream until the heat death of the universe

[mallalada]

the voice of the devil

[mudboyman]

Light answers a tough question

[cecilias-cool-stuff]

Never stop hating

[hellodahliah]

son of the grim reaper: PROLOGUE

previous / beginning / next

olive: how nice of you to pay a lonely and old lady, like me, a visit. to be honest i had my doubts you'd show up, buzz.

buzz: cut the bullcrap, specter. we both know why i am here. So spit it out, where is Lyla?

olive: tsk, not very talkative today i see. follow me, she is waiting in my garden.

buzz: you better not be messing with me.

---

buzz: is this a prank?

olive: why would i be joking about something this tragic?

buzz: this isn't fun.

olive: no it isn't.

buzz: so stop messing with me, where is lyla?

olive: uh, right in front of you and five feet beneath you.

buzz: this-... can't be...

lyla: buzz...

olive: my deepest condolences. lyla was truly sweet and kind-hearted. she had so much to offer to this cruel world. unfortunately her life was cut short.

buzz: *sobs* lyla.

olive: you loved her, didn't you? but let's be honest buzz, you didn't love her enough to treat her right... or to look for her when she went missing.

[sidecast-text]

incredibly elaborate bit me and @iclimbtreestofeelalive came up with while i was playing pokemon Y iii couldn't pick if i should put this on the art blog but whateverr hello if you scrolled down this far sorry for the long post okay i love you

[foolfortune]

current mantra

[inbabylontheywept]

my grandpa was a good man. and it really wasnt his fault - recreationally lying to kids is a proud family tradition - but he told me, once, that cutting a worm in half resulted in two worms.

i think he said it so i'd be more morally okay with fishing? i actually dont remember the context.

point was, he told me this, and he understimated (by a very large margin) how much i liked worms. i was a worm boy. very wormy. and after hearing that, i went home, and i dug through the garden, flipped over every rock, did everything i could to gather as many worms as i could, and then i uh.

i cut them all in half. every worm i could find. all of them. with scissors.

i then took this pile of split worms, and i put them in a box with a bit of lettuce and some water and stuff and went to bed expecting to double my worms overnight. i have math autism, so i had a vague understanding that if i did this just a few times in a row, i would eventually have a completely unreasonable amount of worms.

i was very excited to become this plane's worm emperor.

(i think i was...six?)

anyway, i did not become the inheritor of the worm crown. i instead woke up to a box of dead worms and cried. a lot. i got diagnosed with panic attacks as a teenager, but i think i had them as a kid, i just had no idea what they were. i was kind of processing that a.) i had killed what i had assumed was every single worm in my yard, and thus would have no more worms, and b). i was going to like, worm hell.

(six year babylon spent a lot of time worrying about god.)

so i kind of freaked out, and i climbed a tree, because god can only smite you if you're touching the ground (?) and i sat up there mostly inconsolable until my mom came out and asked, hey, what's up? what happened?

so i explained to her that i had killed all of the worms, forever, and was also Damned, and she took me to the compost pile, and we dug for all of five seconds and found like twenty more worms.

the compost pile was full of worms.

she then told me that a). there were more worms, and we could put them back under rocks and stuff and recolonize our yard and b). that one day, i would die, and go to heaven, and be able to talk to the worms face to face. that i'd be able to tell them all that i was very sorry, and that i killed them on accident, driven only by excessive Love, and that she was positive they would forgive me because worms have six hearts and no malice.

at that point, i think i was sixty percent tear-snot by weight, and i had no choice but to gather enough worms that i could hug them. which my mom helped with. and then after that she helped me put some worms back under each rock.

and for my epilogue: i spent a significant portion of my childhood in trees. and for many years after, even when my mom didnt know i was watching, i would catch her giving the space under the rocks a light spritz with the hose. not because she loved worms.

but because she loved me.