#death implications tw

[firepassed]

it isn't fair. it's like some sort of cruel, horrible joke and worse, none of this makes any sense to her. she just got him back- her vax, her husband, the love of her life and now, she is watching him wither and fade before her very eyes and nothing keyleth has done has helped. the helplessness she feels, far worse than the helplessness that she felt watching him fade away from her for the first time and then pain is twice as heavy as her head fills with questions. keyleth, though, tries her best to hide it from him though she worries as he gets worse and worse, her act has not been enough. she is going to find something to make him feel better, though. she refuses to accept this...

he lies in their bed now, and keyleth stays by his side, resting a cloth to his forehead, fingers slipping from it to instead thumb at a cheek, using cure wounds once again as though it might do something as she forces a small smile though all she wants to do is weep. there’s something she’s thinking of. there’s something she’s missing. there’s something she’s done wrong or worse, this is some kind of cruel joke. whatever it is, she’s trying to contain herself and focus on him and not the fear that sits within her of seeing him die.

“ are you cold, love? ” she asks, her voice a whisper and her lips unpturned in a tense smile. her hand that is not holding the warm cloths shifts to hold onto his hand, a desperate cure wounds leaving her fingertips to seep into his. “ what do you need? what can i get you? ”

[ nononono! ] ( REVERSE )  –  for the keyleth to hold the @ravenant head / face while they’re injured, brush their thumb along their cheeks & refuse to accept that the receiver is dying.

[oraclememehacker]

Haru and Futaba’s Bonding Moment

“I’m surprised that you’re still around Futaba. Usually, you’re squirreled up in your room at this point.” Sojiro remarked with a good-natured chuckle as Futaba was sitting at one of the booths with her switch out. Who knew what she was doing but apparently it was important as she was laying on her back and playing it pretty intently. Her mind was an enigma to the old man, but she mattered to him immensely. “Oh, I’m here for a reason. One of the others is coming over.”

One of the others meant her friends, the group that she hung out all the time. Sojiro knew that much anyways. “Ah. Which one?” He was more curious than anything, and with Futaba, he never knew what the answer was going to be. “You’ll know when they arrive.” She told him in a casual fashion as she was playing on her switch still. As always, she wanted to be cryptic. Oh well. “Should I prepare them the usual then?”

As he asked, the familiar chime of the door could be heard as the door opened, and who was it? None other than Haru Okumura, who was here for the express purpose of seeing Futaba. They had chatted via text about meeting up, and now was the time. There was a warm radiating energy coming off Haru that seemed to have the ability to cheer up even the most disheartened individuals. It was like a superpower really.

When Haru saw Futaba at the booth, she immediately got more excited. “Futaba-chan!” Futaba put her switch on the table and got up, seeing the floofy woman. “Haru!” The two rushed towards each other and gave each other a big hug, getting caught up in the moment as the two were simply really happy to see one another. It had been a little bit, and now they were going to just chat it up. Whilst playing Stardew Valley, which was the main plan.

“You want the usual, Okumara-san?” Sojiro asked and got a little nod of confirmation. “Coming right up then. You two enjoy yourselves.” The two of them let go of the hug and were beaming. “I haven’t had a chance to play this with you in a while Futaba-chan. I’m glad we’re getting back together for this.” Whilst Haru didn’t play many games, Stardew Valley really did hit the spot for her, and playing with a veteran like Futaba made it all the better.

“I know. I’ve been making sure the farm is doing alright. Just a few little things, don’t worry. We haven’t missed any major milestones or anything. Okay, let’s get to it then.” They would sit in the booth, getting ready as Haru joined via local play. Then they would start things up, tending to their farm which was coming along quite nicely with it still being the first year and all that. As they were chatting amongst themselves about their plans for the rest of fall in game, Haru spoke up.

“So, how have you been Futaba-chan? Has school been well for you?” Haru figured with a genius like Futaba, she probably wasn’t having much trouble academically speaking. The problem was with the socialization. She had heard about how much Futaba was bullied in school growing up, it was part of what lead to her to being so anti-social after all. “Yep, school’s been fine. Honestly, I think it’s been quite dull.”

“Well, I guess dull is better than having a bunch of bad stuff happen. Are your grades doing well?” When she got the answer of yes, that made her feel good. “Good. I bet you’ll be top of your class easy. You’ve taught me so much about computers and other assorted things.” Like the fact that booting didn’t mean kicking it with a boot. Though the term did come from bootstrap, so it had more to do with a boot than one would expect. Along with just some other basic computer maintenance stuff.

“You didn’t make it easy though.” Futaba told Haru with a sweat drop. “No offense.” Of course, there was no offense taken. “But you learned pretty well all things considered. I tried to teach some people on the internet through forums and it was like trying to teach a cat how to not hate water. Some people can be so dense and stupid I swear.” That just got a good hearty laugh to come from Haru. “Anyways, yeah, things are going well. How about you?”

“Me? Just fine all things considered. I’m getting ready to head to college for business. That way when I take over the company properly, I’m well versed in the ways of keeping the company going. Plus I want to open those cafes and keep growing my own food.” For Futaba that was like learning Greek, but she was quite proud of Haru for all of that. They both had goals and were heading towards them. It was quite nice.

Sometime would pass, and they kept playing, Haru eating her curry that was prepared by Sojiro, getting towards the end of fall in game. They loved their little bonding session, as it was a way for them to just relax, and for Haru to not have expectations placed upon her. As they were playing, a curious question entered Haru’s mind. She wasn’t sure why it did, but it was nagging at her and if she didn’t at least ask it, it would probably bug at her heavily. “Hey Futaba-chan, I have a question. It’s a weird one, but I’m curious.”

“Hmm? What’s up?” Futaba had an inquisitive tone to her voice as she was wanting to know what this weird question was. “I know boss is your father basically at this point, but have you ever wondered about your biological dad? You only seem to talk about your mom after all.” Well, that was certainly a weird question anyways. And one that was out of left field.

But it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it before. Hell, it was something that she asked her mom a long time ago. She had seen plenty of parents with mothers and fathers, but Wakaba was an only mother. Even when Sojiro was in the picture, they just stayed colleagues for most of it, even though it was clear there was quite a friendship, and had circumstances been slightly different, possibly been together romantically.

It took her a little bit to get over her surprise of the question before shaking her head. “I haven’t really put much thought into who my actual father was. Because my mom only told me he was “a scumbag who didn’t want anything to do with her” and told me not to worry about it.” Haru was slightly dumbfounded by that, but also curious. “Huh, she must have had her reason for that.”

“Yeah, she did go into a bit more detail about it.” Now that Futaba didn’t have the truth of things clouded from her mind due to all the guilt, she remembered so much more from her childhood. Even things that didn’t really think about all that much before her death. This was one of those things. “My mom had gotten her master’s degree and was planning on working on a doctorate when she met him and ended up getting pregnant with me.”

She went on to explain that whilst the pregnancy wasn’t really in the cards at the time, and she was worried about how this would affect her future, in the end Wakaba found that taking care of a child could be a good challenge, and that she wasn’t planning on having an abortion or anything like that. And then apparently, he told Wakaba that he wasn’t going to take care of said child and they got into a massive argument and left. From there, they never spoke again and of course, that was the story of how Futaba was born. Hearing that made Haru frown, but she also understood, at least a little bit.

But that didn’t make what that guy do acceptable, at least in Haru’s eyes. And she now understood fully why Futaba’s mom didn’t really want to bring it up. “Yeah, I get it. Sorry if I brought up anything uncomfortable.” She didn’t want Futaba to feel bad or to ruin the mood or anything. It just popped up in her mind after all. “Nah, I was young and after the explanation she gave me, I mostly stopped thinking about it. That’s why I said I didn’t put much thought into it.”

Though now that she was thinking about it, the thought about Haru’s father came up. How he had put her in that awful arranged marriage, how he treated his employees like they were robots, and his unfortunate death thanks to Akechi killing him, all for the sake of putting a target on the Phantom Thieves back. She wondered how Haru was feeling still, since the pain of that was farther away now.

“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but how do you feel about your father and what happened to him, Haru?” That definitely changed the subject a bit, and Haru just let off a sigh. “Now that I’ve had time to really think about it, I mostly still just feel angry about his death.” It was a perfectly reasonable feeling to have, considering the circumstances.

“When I think about all the awful things that my father did, you would expect for me to hate him. And there’s definitely a part of me that does. There’s however a bigger part that knows that he wasn’t always that way and needed to be showed the errors of his ways. That’s why I don’t regret helping you all change his heart. And it seemed like he was going to have to face all the sins he did head on.

But of course, that wasn’t the case, and he died, live on air. While she was understandably upset at it, the fact of the matter was, in her mind anyways, she saw this as an escape for him. It was a way for him to ultimately get away from dealing with his guilt. It was like a get out of jail free card and that made her more frustrated than anything. She just wanted him to get better and deal with the consequences of his actions.

And instead, he was robbed of that. It made her grit her teeth momentarily before she calmed herself down. “All because of Akechi. I know he’s a victim just like the rest of us but…he still willingly did what he did. It wasn’t like Shido put a gun to his head and made him do all of those stuff.” A sharp exhale escaped her nostrils before she managed to calm herself down fully.

“Yeah…” Was all that Futaba could muster, at least initially anyways. Her feelings about Akechi were complicated as well. On one hand, he was someone who was incredibly talented and smart, and she could respect him for the stuff he managed to do. But on the other hand, he hid behind masks and his true self rarely showed. And who knows if the Akechi they saw whilst Maruki had the ideal reality going was his true self.

As Haru said, even though he was a victim like them, he made his choice when it came to that. He did what he did in order to gain favor with his illegitimate father who was merely using the power that he acquired in order to gain more and more power, and to ultimately put Japan in ruins. Futaba could never claim that she would willingly want to be friends with Akechi, but she wouldn’t outright state how much she hates him. Merely mess with him in the way that she always did.

Futaba then did pull Haru into a hug as the two were calming each other down. The conversation had gotten quite personal and upsetting, so they needed this. “Let’s just agree that Akechi was a complicated person, like a heavily multi-faceted person, and agree that we don’t hate him, but can’t exactly forgive him either.”

That seemed to be one thing that they both agreed on. They could never forgive him, not fully for the crimes he committed, but wouldn’t downright hate him either. That would be the way they would feel about him for the rest of time, since he seemed to not be coming back, due to being well, dead. But if he did somehow come back to life, that’s how they would feel.

Pushing that aside, they finished playing Stardew Valley, and had to stop as their Switches were going to die. Plus Haru had to get home so nobody would be worried about her. They both got out of the booth and gave each other another tight hug. They really did enjoy their time together like this. And Haru even gave the orange nerd a kiss on the cheek. That made her cheeks turn a slight shade of pink.

“Thanks for having me today Futaba-chan. We must do this some other time, sooner rather than later.” An agreement was made on that. “Oh and thank you for the meal boss.” Sojiro shrugged it off like it wasn’t all that big of a deal. “I’ll see you later, you two!” And with that, she was off, back home. Futaba just let off a little happy sigh before heading back to her house as well, opting to lay on the bed in her room and just think about things. A lot of things.

[bamsara]

goofies

[eugenoid-draws]

Thinking about how little bodily autonomy Daan possessed his whole life

[captainhysunstuff]

I think about that phone call interruption a lot. The boys were having a moment, and Watari wasn't having any of it.

[quecksilvereyes]

oh, sister, I am sorry. your eyes are sunken and your skin is bruised. your lips are chapped, your nailbeds bitten raw. your husband's hand on your waist is a ghost's touch held by the band on your left ring finger and I-

I am dead.

I got on the train, Su. Nevermind your tears, nevermind the plea you could not shape with words, nevermind your fingers on the pulse point of my wrist. "stay", you'd said, as you have always done, dictionary in hand and baby teeth yet lodged in your jaw. "don't go where i cannot."

I step through a wardrobe and you follow, damned be reason. I slay a wolf and you follow, I cling to the little ones and you follow, I am crowned and you follow, I am-

I go past a lamp post, and you follow, damned be dread. I go to a train station and you follow, trembling hands and tender heart. I go, and I go, and I go, and you follow. Sun of my skies. Light of my life.

I go. you stop.

are we too old for stories, now? ten-and-four and ten-and-three, budding bodies and steel bones, we are cast from our home. i hold the little ones until i drown in them. you grip your skirts until no iron can press the shape of your palms from them. and you have ever been, cruelly reasonable and logically callous.

say you, glass shard eyes and rouge-red lips: we are english. we are children. she thinks she has found a magical land in the upstairs wardrobe.

say I, trembling hands and coiling guts: we are narnian. we are monarchs. if she's not mad and she's not lying, then logically she must be telling the truth.

my sister Susan, beautiful as folk tales are and twice as sharp, did you intend every invitation you took for me to twist the knife a godly animal once thrust into my guts? perhaps it was the way your eyes turned blue, or the sound of your laughter losing its bells. perhaps it was just my trembling fingers at the back of your legs, drawing stocking lines where no stockings had ever lain.

the line came out shaking, and you rubbed it off until your skin cried red. the hem of your dress still dripped wet when you left that day, turning on heels too narrow for you to walk in.

do you remember? it took you days to come home, and mother wailed for all of them. you crawled into my bed that night, as you did when we were parents to our little ones, those terrible months. your head on my shoulder, your breath in my ear, I held you until morning.

your mouth in my throat, eyes heavy with sleep, tongue heavy with champagne: we are here now. we must make the best of it. he cannot have all our lives, and all our joys. i wish you would laugh again.

doesn't little lucy, shrieking mouth and tumbling legs, laugh enough for us all?

lucy's manic. if she didn't laugh she'd cry.

i think sometimes, in the parts of my guts that are still a schoolboy, and are mean and cruel to match, that the alcohol makes you softer than the daylight ever could. i do not tell you.

i press my lips to your forehead. i wrap my arms around you. the year between us rings heavy, and when I get up in the morning, you do not follow.

I tried, Su. I did. I applied for university, I saw that girl with that smile. with those eyes. I let you take sections from the paper before I ever touched it, I held the little ones in my arms, and I made coffee in the morning. I sat all my exams.

I smiled when the little ones came back smelling of home.

Aslan's wounds, did I try. but-

I have ever been a thing made for stories. brave the way knights are, bloody knuckles and buckling pride. a horse between my calves, a sword in my hands.

I think, sometimes, that I was born for my sword, for the hollow ringing of my heart when I first held it. a part of me, even then, ten-and-three and soaked to the bone.

such bravery is not made for real world boys and real world taunts. there is a map, I think, from the summits of my knuckles to the jaws of every boy who ever looked at me and bared his teeth.

I am sovereign. I am the skies for your sun to burn in.

I am made wrong, for this england, and I cannot take this life you want. I belong, I think, into myths and legend, the star-studded shards of our home.

so I went on the train, Susan. so I died, and I named what you have chosen. so I banned you from their scorning mouths. so you grip your husband's hand, realest of us all, and you cry. you do not follow.

Forgive me.

[zeb-z]

There’s something so important about Gillion - who never heals himself, who rushes into danger, who hides his wounds- facing death and realizing he isn’t unafraid as he was raised to be. He uses his magic on himself to help with the exhaustion, to keep his life intact. And still he tries to comfort Jay and Chip while he’s coherent, being realistic about his chances but refusing to make it painful. Wanting their possible last moments to be light, to be about seemingly inconsequential things, small favorites that still mean the world to him purely because they’re Chip and Jay’s favorites. And then when all is said and done, he makes a raccoon for Jay. He talks about raspberries for Chip. He uses his last saved up arcane energy to try desperately to stay awake, and it works, and it saves him in the final hour.

It’s just. There’s something about how he hasn’t had a chance to rest since the Feywild, really, truly rest. How this whole time he’s been down on himself and taking extreme risks. And now, at what might be the end of it all, he realizes he doesn’t want to die. He wants to live. And not to be able to save others, not to fulfill his destiny, not out of obligation to anyone else - but purely for himself. For all the little things. And though it’s not quite healing in the literal term, his nearly final act was spent trying to save himself - and it worked.

[carriondell]

if ghost got stuck in a timeloop with you he'd sacrifice himself for you every time even as it becomes increasingly likelier that letting you die and moving on is the way out. when you die before him he massacres your killers then immediately resets the timeloop. it'll work eventually.

[bonefall]

oo snowkit becomes snowcarve?

He does!

In StarClan, you can use the names and appearance that you could have had, if you died young. It's very rare that you get permakits or permapprentices. I lifted from the COTC story about Smallstar and his siblings.

(Though, in BB those kits actually survive and it's MAPLESHADE’S kits who lead to the law on protecting children, Darkstar's Commandment, the Queen’s Rights. Smallstar is the leader of WindClan and xey're super chill. Xey own a lovely shawl.)

So Snowkit chooses to appear as Snowcarve, an Honor Title he would have earned for the creation of a full written Clan cat language, expanded from the simple glyphs. I'm not sure if he's a popular patron, but I do know that Bramble and Tawny invoke him sometimes.

Unfortunately though he's more invoked for general guidance by the two of them, not for possibilities like I think he'd like. He watches over them though, like a guardian angel. A lot of cats secretly have those.

I'm not sure who he follows around more often though. I think he LIKES following Tawny more because she's a better listener to his omens. But he feels like Bramble NEEDS him more, y'know?

Also notably, Snowcarve was technically their uncle, but the relationship is best described as "1st cousin." Rabnir in Clanmew, a familial role about somewhat distant but parallel growth, seen also with Brightpaw and Swiftpaw.

[teranobriss]

tw violence / death

In npmd, the cops at the beginning mention Sam when they're inspecting Richie's body at the crime scene.

We know from tgwdlm that Sam's a decently loud, cocky, rough/gruff kind of guy. Probably seen all kinds of hell during his time as an HFPD cop, I gather.

So, unless he's just got a particularly weak stomach, for them to say he "ralphed" (threw up) upon seeing the crime scene, it would probably have to be exceptionally gruesome.

Which means that Max seriously fucked up Richie's body when he murdered him.

[averlym]

miracle elixir, mortality fixer (insp)

[mothmanwarble]

In the Kaos’ Kastle level in Skylanders: Giants, there’s a hidden area called the Forgotten Sepulchre, and it can only be reached by falling through the floor in the Pushblock Challenge room as a Giant.

In the Forgotten Sepulchre is this hat:

…A princess hat.

A princess hat surrounded by—or rather, buried with—piles of bones in a long forgotten sepulchre beneath the castle that cannot be reached by regular means. It’s suggested that not even Kaos knows it’s there.

I often think about how one of the entries in Book of Kaos mentions Kaos allegedly having brothers. Perhaps he has other siblings.

Perhaps he had other siblings.

I often think about Kaossandra’s diary entires in the same book, in which she writes about the many times she’d cruelly lock up her young son in the castle’s dungeon for days on end, all because she considered him to be irritatingly inept at magic. I think about the Kaos Clan’s unfathomably long legacy of evil and the immense pride they have in their reputation as powerful wielders of dark magic. Anyone they deem weak is swiftly punished. Perhaps much worse.

Kaos ultimately proved himself to be both powerful and ridiculously resilient. But what about the previous children, of which I am sure there were several? The children that…weren’t as resilient. The children deemed weak and useless.

I often think about this royal family of Dark Portal Masters and their twisted dedication to ensuring that their family remains powerful by any means necessary.

I often think about the Forgotten Sepulchre and all those bones. I often think about the little green princess hat that no doubt belonged to someone.

I often think about this princess that Kaos never got to meet. The sister he never knew he had.

[masonjarart]

OH their moral compass is in shambles it's shattered on the ground with quackitys corpse

The craving for a win is too strong

[snailsdraw]

[Start ID: 5 more pages of HLVRAI narrative doodles following Tommy, GMan, and Darnold's interaction at Chuck E Cheese after Black Mesa. Warning for stuttering (in case that sets anyone off).

GMan sighs forcefully: "...Tommy, I would never doubt your capabilities, but are you quite sure there isn't something more worth your time?" Tommy stands firm: "I made the perfect dog in a week, I can do soil in less." GMan looks at him in quiet surprise for a moment, then he sighs again and turns, walking away: "I shall leave the matter in your hands, gentlemen. I believe you'll require some privacy."

"Report back to me when you're done and, oh - do try to be quick." As his footsteps recede, Tommy's confidence seems to wane. "I lied..." he admits. "The research took 5 years, I- I just happened to be working on the final modifications the week he'd come back from a business trip..." "Thank you, Tommy," Darnold says, surprising Tommy. "...it's the least I could do..." Tommy says sadly, turning around, "but Sasha's-" "-going to be just fine!" Darnold finishes his sentence for him, presenting the last sleep potion bauble to Tommy.

Tommy's eyes widen: "Oh! Wh- uh- oh, you still have one after all this time??" "Ye- precisely! But, uhm, I'm gonna need your help..." Darnold says, pulling out his gun fully, and revealing that it isn't a real gun at all. "Y'see, this isn't a gun. Sure it's a tranquiliser gun from-" His voice switches to his tutorial NPC voice " -THE HIT GAME TEAM FORTRESS 2 -" before returning to normal and continuing, "-but it's not gonna make a convincing gun noise. And we need the gun noise for this to work right. So, uh, if you-" "Oh, don't worry Darnold," Tommy says, pulling out his own gun and waving it casually, "I'll take care of this."

Unaware of all this, Gordon is still sitting at the table in the main room while being pelted secretly with blue sweet voice by a skeleton behind him. "Y'know what?" Gordon says, "No...yeah...Yeah...! I've been stressin' all week, I deserve a goddamn break." He picks up a soda can and readies his new prosthetic hand to open it: "Let's take this baby for a test run, huh?" Suddenly, a gunshot goes off and startles him and the skeleton. Gordon screams and immediately whips around, right fist clenched and aimed in the direction of the noise.

Gordon quickly remembers he does not have a gun arm to shoot with anymore and swears: "FUCK." Bubby raises an eyebrow: "Shooting? At a party? Really? Well, that's sort of rude." Dr Coomer puts a hand to his chest and shakes his head: "Oh dear, what are they teaching the kids these days?" "THAT'S SERIOUSLY YOUR CONCERN?? MANNERS??" Gordon yells, searching himself frantically for another weapon, "Oh FUCK, I don't have a gun-" He stops in his tracks when he sees Darnold at the further end of the room, walking towards GMan with something wrapped up in his second labcoat in his hands while Tommy trails after him. That "something" is Sasha, asleep from the potion to fool GMan. /End ID.]

[Click here for previous part] Previous story parts found here: [Part 1.][Part 2.][Part 3.][Part 4.][Part 5.][Part 6.][Part 7.][Part 8.][Part 9.][Part 10.][Part 11.][Part 12.][Part 13.][Part 14.][Part 15.]

YAAAAAY WEEE IT'S DONE. For now. I don't know if I feel like drawing shock troopers :p. It's been 69 + 6 pages babeyyyyy.

[xx-rememberthepast-xx]

i need you to hurt me again.

[twistarlight]

Entirely redid my Slug'cat' design and made a doodle page of Survivor