#cw: dead bodies

[idiotcoward]

Last Days of Humanity - Hymns of Indigestible Suppuration

When I think of goregrind, I think of this album. The vocals are snarling and almost snaps and crackles it’s so guttural. The riffs are sludgy but fast and seem to pull you in like your sinking in quick sand. It’s so fucking good you guys. Literally love this band so much.

[ghostoffuturespast]

An Oasis of Elegance...

[not-krys]

37. Eyes [Houki, Ophelia, Maddie, Miri]

Happy birthday month to me! This prompt gave way to some darker subject matter but it's overall fluff content.

Raw, unedited writing below as usual with some caveats this month, so be sure to read the summary part here. This month includes: -Houki and Mitsunari being super cute in the morning -Ophelia and Kennyo talking some after a troubling day. Brief mentions of dead bodies and the handling of them -Maddie and Harr are talking about his eye under his mask. -Satan holds Miri's hand after a traumatic experience, mostly from his POV. Spoilers for Nightbringer Lesson 45

------

Houki

It was inevitability that living with a cat meant that some items will go missing at one point or another. Houki knew this with her experience of owning her own feline companion in Jiyel, but she had never expected Mitsunari's good-natured grey lady would spirit away her glasses one morning. When she had woken up, she reached to her usual home for her glasses -above her head and pillow- only to discover her spectacles had turned furry and purred when her fingers brushed by searchingly. Opening her bleary eyes, Houki saw not the light glinting off of glass of her round rims, but two purple irises that mewed cheerfully at her.

"Good morning to you too, Kitty," she said quietly, to not disturb her sleeping companion, Mitsunari, freshly returned from a long campaign. "You should know that you are laying in my glasses' usual home, madam."

The cat merely stared at her, grey tail flicking once.

Houki sighed and sat up, the room surrounding her one large blur. The piles of books in the corner could be very well be towers if she didn't know better. Even Mitsunari beside her lost focus when she sat up, his own grey hair similar to Kitty's fur at this distance, his white sleeping kimono could be described as a distant fallen tree, save that he was right beside her and she could hear his breathing.

She then saw something white and purple where she was sure Mitsunari put his haori the night before. He usually kept his glasses in one of the inner pockets. Surely he wouldn't mind her using his so she can find her own?

Before she could move, however, a hand grabbed hold of hers, wrapping around her wrist.

She couldn't see Mitsunari's smile, which made her heart ache. She could hear it in his voice, easing her heart, however.

"Good morning, dearest Houki."

"Good morning," she responded in his general direction, not even able to meet his eyes. "Miss Kitty seems to have moved my glasses from their usual place. Can you can see them anywhere?"

White shapes were now moving beside her, Mitsunari's face coming close enough for her to see clearly.

"First things first," he said, brushing his lips over hers, giving her a small peck. "I missed you while I was gone."

Houki smiled. "As did I."

This close, she could see his return smile, still filled with sleep but love was much more evident. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, pulling back her loose hair.

-------------

Ophelia

Even closing her eyes, Ophelia could still see those hollowed irises, those blue lips, the wrinkles on that face robbed of any color. She had never felt any affection towards that old man, her previous husband, but finding him *like that* certainly did something to her then. Years later and whole universes away, she still couldn't stomach seeing a dead body, an unfortunately common sight in this war-torn era of her new home.

She handled as much as she could, wrapping bandages around wounds and giving prayers for the lost souls, but she hid away as soon as dusk fell, surrounding herself with fragrant incenses and a cotton cloth held to her nose, easing what she could of her nausea.

When she felt she could breathe again, she could smell ginger tea beside her and warm blanket was around her shoulders.

"You shouldn't have." Ophelia said, taking the warm cup into her hands.

"It's never easy, even amongst the most experienced of us." Kennyo's deep voice resonated in the room, the jingling of his staff tinkling as he placed against the nearby wall. "You can still-"

"No." Ophelia said firmly. "Not to Katsugayama."

"Ophelia-"

"I've lived that life and I hated it. I'm not going back."

"Stubborn."

"Kenshin and I get along like water and oil. And I don't want to be some side piece for Shingen to show off."

Kennyo frowned as he sat down beside her.

"I'm not going to Katsugayama. Sakai is also a flat no, in case you were about to ask. I'm staying here." She sipped her tea, grimacing lightly.

"Is being here really that much more preferable than being safe and comfortable in a city?"

"I have my reasons for wanting to stay."

"Enlighten me." Kennyo said dryly.

"You're the monk here." She matched his tone.

"You're hilarious."

Ophelia chuckled, sounding hollow. She brushed back her hair, her finger easily running through it now that it was shorter than it had been her entire life.

"City life means putting on airs. I would have to be a Lady again if I go back. A Noble Lady. Being a noble means something, being someone that I don't want to be again. I hated the person I had to become when I was a noble."

She stared into her tea, eyes downturned.

"Here, I'm just like everyone else. A normal person. It's a harder life than what I'm used to, but not much more so. Despite being of the noble class, my family struggled to get by. Cooked our own meals, mended our own clothes, cleaned the manor as best as children could, treated our own illnesses and injuries as a doctor was expensive in Revaire nor could they always be trustworthy. Everyone hated being perceived as poor despite the turmoil going on."

She sighed.

"That's why I like being here. It's because I don't have to play pretend here. Everyone is equal. You pull your own weight and help with where you can. Going back to *that*… it makes me sick just thinking about it."

Kennyo was quiet, lost in thought.

"And I am getting better at handling things here, I think."

"All the incense in here say otherwise, Lady."

"Perhaps I should take up incense making, what do you think?"

"Fresh air is free and less work, you know."

"Now who's trying to be funny?"

-----

Maddie

"It's bad, isn't it?"

Harr's soft voice echoed in the room, empty save for him and Maddie as they sat across from each other. The usual night time noises seemed far away in the moment. Harr had removed his metal eyepatch, revealing an aged white scar that ran the length of his forehead to the middle of his cheek, cutting across his left eye. The lid still seemed to function when he blinked, more out of habit it seemed when his right one did it. However, the two eyes didn't match further. His right eye was a rich dark gray, reminding her of a moonless night in the city with no stars visible. She often got lost in that eye. His other one, however, was clouded, lighter. Murky in a way.

"It's… my bad eye," Harr continued. "Haven't been able seen out of it for a few years now. It's the worse of the damage from…"

Maddie reached for the left side of his face, making Harr flinch back. She lowered her hand, frowning.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Not as much as it used to."

He touched it instead, his bandaged fingers gently brushing his cheek.

"It's the nature of magic-inflicted wounds. They take longer to heal, if they ever do. I've neutralized it for the most part, but I'll be partially blind for the rest of my life."

He huffed out a mirthless laugh.

"Lancelot meant business when he attacked."

He covered his eye with his bandaged hand, sighing this time.

"And… your hand and arm too?" Maddie asked.

"Yep, Lancelot's doing. Seven years ago. Branding me as a wanted man with these."

Maddie could only stare, bewildered. She'd only seen his eye scar briefly on accident and had wanted to know more of how it had happened. She didn't regret asking, glad that Harr was opening up to her, but she still felt sad in knowing his scars still pained him to this day.

"Sorry, Maddie. Loki and I had promised you only good experiences while you stayed in Cradle and yet…"

"Don't apologize!" Maddie said, "I get it. There's a lot going on that I was dropped right in the middle of. The Red and Black Armies… The Magic Tower… and you… you have a lot on your plate on top of babysitting me. It was stupid of me for letting Lancelot inside in the first place."

"It's fine. I get why you did it."

"It was still really stupid of me. He could have just left he thought no one was here. A-and broken door can always be fixed, right? O-or we could find another tree to sleep in or-or--"

"Maddie." Harr said calmly. "We both made the best we could out of that situation. You're still here with us and that's all that matters."

"…Thanks."

"…And your cake was delicious. I… forgot to say so earlier."

"No, it's okay, I totally understand! Priorities and all that!" Maddie laughed nervously while Harr nodded.

------

Miri

Satan knew it would draw his brothers' ire when he and Miri returned home holding hands, but he refused to let her go, not yet. He even put on a smug smile at the brothers he made eye-contact with, delighting in their jealousy, at least a little bit.

But the bigger reason he was holding her hand, for both of their sakes, was to hide the tremors. From her, from himself, he would never tell. Their hands couldn't be shaking if they were together, right?

He looked down at their joined hands, remembering that was the hand he had reached for, her right hand, with her sorcerer's tattoo laid out across the top and his pact mark a little further up her arm. He had reached for that hand when she was in danger, not even thirty minutes before he had promised to protect her.

And yet, he'd failed her. Miri's tiny fingers slipped past his, pink painted nails sliding away from his green ones, their eyes meeting for another brief moment. She was scared, realizing what was happening as she flew through the air. He should have taken after her, not having wings be damned. He could have transformed in a blink and taken the impact. He would have been okay! Miri was still human --the impact could do a lot of damage to her, if not worse!

He should have taken off after her, to fly with her, to catch and hold her before gravity took over, to brace her for the impact and to hopefully --no he would-- take all of the brunt of the hit. However, another gust of wind of stopped him, pushing him back, the sound of flapping wings and Diavolo's loud voice soon following.

Belphie and Barbatos were beside him instantly, asking if he was okay, but all Satan could focus on was Miri, up in the air, clinging to Diavolo. The demon prince had saved her, much to everyone's relief.

The contest was now over, his mind told him. He could hear the voices of his other brothers mingling, but he couldn't make out anything distinct. All he could was focus on was Diavolo holding onto Miri. He was gentle with her, now especially, but her shaking didn't stop when they touched down.

Satan ran to her, seconds away from ripping her away from Diavolo's arms. He didn't care about the reprimand he would get from Lucifer or Barbatos. All he could focus on was Miri, to remind her that she was okay, to remind himself that she was okay, both reasons battling within him.

-----

[tenebris-lux]

Warning: This post is MORBID. It gives a few details on dead bodies. If anyone has suggestions for trigger/content warnings, please let me know.

Thinking about a detail of Count Dracula’s vampirism….

“… the driver helping me with a hand which caught my arm in a grip of steel; his strength must have been prodigious.”

“… he moved impulsively forward, and holding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed as cold as ice—more like the hand of a dead than a living man.”

So these passages are old now, but they are passages on Count Dracula’s physical strength. We know that Count Dracula enjoyed intimidating Harker, and he wouldn’t be above using physical strength for that. However, to my imagination (kind of a headcanon), Count Dracula doesn’t even have to try to exert much of that strength; he places his hand on you, and you can tell that it’s not going to move without a struggle (if then).

What I’m clumsily getting at is that when someone wants to give an impression of their strength, they have to exert a little. Count Dracula doesn’t have to exert at all. Because it’s not just strength; it’s “immovability”.

Like rigor mortis. Rigor mortis is when a dead body loses all its flexibility and starts hardening. The stage after that is when the body starts to decompose. Vampires don’t get to that stage. They are moving, yes, but not naturally, as all the activity under their skin has stopped. So that “grip of steel” Harker mentioned is—to my interpretation—stiffness.

I was also thinking of it when the Count first welcomed Harker:

“He made no motion of stepping to meet me, but stood like a statue, as though his gesture of welcome had fixed him into stone.”

With the full context, he’s just waiting for Harker to make the next move, but in waiting he was so STILL. I like to think he was also that still when Mina saw him sitting on the bench at Whitby.

That’s one of my headcanons, anyway: a good part of all that strength is because the corpse of him is in rigor mortis, and is being animated through some magical force.

[reuna]

This is what zionism does

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[trustymikh]

there are many benefits to being a ground-type pokemon trainer

[r3dr0pe]

I have started using Blender ( said with evil intent )

[liauditore]

i can't believe martyn didn't warn scott that people die when they are killed

[trynot-moved]

THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS & SNAKES (2023) dir. Francis Lawrence DIMITRI ABOLD AS REAPER ASH He's torn down the flag.

[zyxwvutbackwards]

Having sad hours and listening to music when this pops up! I can’t believe it’s the first time I noticed they use the word firefly in the lyrics as a pet name - anyways, it got me thinking about what ifs. More specifically, what if the moment Mycheal finally became attached to someone, when he loves them as much as he can, when they don’t want to leave and everything is right, his person dies? The creator has said that when he reaches this point on his “affection scale” that his yandere tendencies would only be triggered if you tried to leave. If you left by dying, one way those tendencies could manifest is him being unwilling to bury or stray far from your body and feeling a deep, soul-wrenching upset every time he notices a new aspect of rot set in. In the hours following your death, as a yandere, he’d probably be in shambles - would he be disoriented enough to forget about rigor mortis? Would he reach for your warmth after stepping away for a moment to collect himself, only to return and find you devoid of it?

So many possibilities

Mycheal and Mushroom Oasis by @/deerspherestudios

[bumblebi713]

Unknown & Myers fanservice ;)

[mxrtified777]

normally i keep my sketches on twt but. i love ghost morro so bad

[ghostoffuturespast]

Automatic Love - Part II

[not-krys]

[Repost] Eyes - Ophelia x Kennyo

Part of this set of WIP Wednesdays

It seems like every time I put these two together, banter just happens, but it's okay, they're having fun...? I think...?

Raw, unedited writing below. Brief mentions of dead bodies. It's more about Kennyo trying to convince her that she doesn't have to live like this, but Ophelia is having exactly none of that.

------

Even closing her eyes, Ophelia could still see those hollowed irises, those blue lips, the wrinkles on that face robbed of any color. She had never felt any affection towards that old man, her previous husband, but finding him like that certainly did something to her then. Years later and whole universes away, she still couldn't stomach seeing a dead body, an unfortunately common sight in this war-torn era of her new home.

She handled as much as she could, wrapping bandages around wounds and giving prayers for the lost souls, but she hid away as soon as dusk fell, surrounding herself with fragrant incenses and a cotton cloth held to her nose, easing what she could of her nausea.

When she felt she could breathe again, she could smell ginger tea beside her and warm blanket was around her shoulders.

"You shouldn't have." Ophelia said, taking the warm cup into her hands.

"It's never easy, even amongst the most experienced of us." Kennyo's deep voice resonated in the room, the jingling of his staff tinkling as he placed against the nearby wall. "You can still-"

"No." Ophelia said firmly. "Not to Katsugayama."

"Ophelia-"

"I've lived that life and I hated it. I'm not going back."

"Stubborn."

"Kenshin and I get along like water and oil. And I don't want to be some side piece for Shingen to show off."

Kennyo frowned as he sat down beside her.

"I'm not going to Katsugayama. And Sakai is also a flat no, in case you were about to ask. I'm staying here." She sipped her tea, grimacing lightly.

"Is being here really that much more preferable than being safe and comfortable in a city?"

"I have my reasons for wanting to stay."

"Enlighten me." Kennyo said dryly.

"You're the monk here." She matched his tone.

"You're hilarious."

Ophelia chuckled, sounding hollow. She brushed back her hair, her finger easily running through it now that it was shorter than it had been her entire life.

"City life means putting on airs. I would have to be a Lady again if I go back. A Noble Lady. Being a noble means something, being someone that I don't want to be again. I hated the person I had to become when I was a noble."

She stared into her tea, eyes down-turned.

"Here, I'm just like everyone else. A normal person. It's a harder life than what I'm used to, but not much more so. Despite being of the noble class, my family struggled to get by. Cooked our own meals, mended our own clothes, cleaned the manor as best as children could, treated our own illnesses and injuries as a doctor was expensive in Revaire nor could they always be trustworthy. Everyone hated being perceived as poor despite the turmoil going on."

She sighed.

"That's why I like being here. It's because I don't have to play pretend here. Everyone is equal. You pull your own weight and help with where you can. Going back to *that*… it makes me sick just thinking about it."

Kennyo was quiet, lost in thought.

"And I am getting better at handling things here, I think."

"All the incense in here say otherwise, Lady."

"Perhaps I should take up incense making, what do you think?"

"Fresh air is free and less work, you know."

"Now who's trying to be funny?"

[surelysilly]

something something i like wearing my mother's shoes

[haunted-xander]

Looking for an angel