#prolonged death

[otiksimr]

Favorite genre of picture, snakes wrapped around bird beaks.

[mx-princey]

I had a dream that the Doctor and her companion were chasing someone down and the companion had a gun and the guy they were chasing was like you won't do anything to me, I know you wouldn't let them use a gun. And the Doctor took the gun and shot him

[fala-alfredo-pasta]

A very self indulgent tatted and pierced up Ichimatsu thas it

[sword-dad-fukuzawa]

stumbles out of Google docs covered in blood. 2am lawlight yaoi

[landoffreaksandfrogs]

the summoner hesitates.

[guiltymepleasures]

When "a while" is 15 years for him and a couple of days for her.

[mellowthorn]

the fact that fitz more or less stops aging after tawny man. like. everyone else gets to grow old and move on, but fitz remains literally, physically stuck in the past. he tries to hide it with a beard and lets himself go out of shape a bit, but ultimately he does not really age or change during that time. just like despite pretending to be all fine and happy, he can not truly bring himself to move on from the fool.

[segretecose]

queen gone ex pope gone. roman polanski next

[spliqi]

healer higuchi theory is waking me up to all kinds of higusano possibilities. if she really was assigned to akutagawa because of his illness then that would mean it’s both of their jobs to heal people who are on the verge of death. hmm

[crimson-phantom-designs]

Izzy "You take my leg, I take your man" Hands

[sengardet]

Assassin's Last Breath

Only one of them will leave the garden alive. Another's heart will water the plants

Terra, a young Nigerian woman who escaped trouble life as an assassin, was tending to her garden. She escaped from a ruthless mafia, from which she is currently hiding. Still, she knew that they would be looking to silence her for good.

Terra was walking around her house to her garden when she heard something… footsteps behind her. a sense of danger washed over her, and she halted. The faint footsteps drew closer, reaching her ears from behind.

With a swift pivot, Terra pressed herself against the cool, rough bricks of her wall, her chest rising and falling in shallow, controlled breaths.

The intruder turned the corner—a pale woman with blonde hair, scantily clad, exuding a sense of innocence had she not been holding a suppressed pistol in front of her. The woman's icy blue eyes locked onto Terra's with a sense of surprise.

Terra’s hand, dark against the other woman's fair skin, snatched at the gun with viper-like speed, wrenching it free with reflexes honed by her past. A well-placed kick behind the knee sent the assassin tumbling to the ground, a gasp escaping her lips.

Terra was upon her in an instant, straddling the fallen woman with the authority of a queen claiming her throne. She pressed the cold metal of the suppressor against the trembling assassin's chest. Beneath her palm, she felt the intensity of the woman’s terror—the powerful beat of a heart racing in the midst of its downfall.

Each breath a desperate bid for life, fear and regret flush on her pallid skin. A strange high filled Terra’s mind, a rush of power fueled by the pathetic flinching mess of a woman beneath her, begging for pity she knew she didn’t deserve. “Please! I’m sorry!” the woman yelped “That’s pretty obvious.” Terra replied

Terra watched the pulsing of the woman’s arteries, in her porcelain, nearly translucent skin. She could feel the desperate splaying of the woman’s ribs between her knees. A shame such a creature found herself in this life. There was a beauty in the terror that glazed the assassin's eyes—a beauty Terra had never known she would appreciate until this moment of control.

Terra knew she had to end it, and she would savor every second. She trailed the barrel of the gun across the assassin's chest, sliding over the rise of breasts, down the valley between them. The obedient girl stayed frozen, her silent pleas for mercy ignored.

Terra's gaze shimmered with a cruel gleam, satisfied by the obedience, yet not enough. The barrel of the gun now centered over her left lung. Terra squeezed the trigger. The muffled pop of the gunshot reverberated through the garden. The assassin's body jolted.

Terra felt the heartbeat flutter desperately under her palm, a drumbeat out of sync in the throes of its final dance. The woman’s chest heaved pathetically now with a soft sucking sound beneath the gun’s barrel growing fainter as the useless lung deflated in its cavity.

Slowly, Terra shifted the gun across the centerline of the woman's chest, teasing it over her heart before it rested above the opposite lung. She watched, fascinated, as every exasperated inhalation lifted the assassin's chest.

"That sounded nice, let's hear it again," Terra cooed as the woman shook her head in a futile attempt to disagree. "Sing for me."

The trigger yielded to her touch once more, another muffled pop and a jerk from the woman’s body affirming her success, another chorus of ragged breaths as the other lung deflated. Terra leaned closer, her senses alight with the scent of fear-slicked skin and the dribble of blood.

The assassin’s once lively features now distorted by an agonizing struggle to keep conscious. Yet, all she could do was lie there, vulnerable and defenseless as a wounded doe caught in the jaws of a merciless predator. Her every breath was a desperate plea for life, each one more pitiful than the last.

Terra's gaze locked onto the assassin's eyes, watching as the woman fought for each useless breath, her chest heaving in increasing futility. And yet this pathetic, broken life continued its amusing little dance. The woman’s heart pounded its hardest in a desperate bid for dwindling oxygen. Her toy had not yet stopped working and she was going to enjoy pushing its limits.

With calculated grace, she repositioned the cold muzzle of the gun, pressing it firmly against the frantic drumming beneath the assassin's breastbone. The heart's wild tempo beat against the suppressor, the last functioning flow of vitality fueling those delicate trembles and meaningless breaths. Terra felt the pulsing life through the metal, the vibrations connecting her to the moment of ultimate control.

The trigger gave way under her finger, and the assassin's heart shuddered beneath the impact. A crimson bloom painted the pale canvas of her skin, a perverse flower unfurling with each weakening throb. Blood, hot and vital, gushed forth in spurts that mirrored the erratic cadence of a heart realizing its own demise.

In the assassin's eyes, Terra saw the dawning recognition of mortality, the helplessness of a creature couldn’t even choose to fight for its life. She watched, entranced, as the woman clung to existence with sheer will, every beat a testament to her determination not to yield.

Yet Terra's amusement was not sated. Even as the woman’s eyes glazed over, her body continued to squirm, her chest still rising, mouth moving in a silent plea for help. Terra’s hand, steady and unyielding, guided the gun lower, tracing the contours of the woman's supple little abdomen with a lover's familiarity. Each shot that followed was an act of intimate destruction, the bullets tearing through organs and spirit alike.

And with each pull of the trigger, Terra felt the assassin's struggle wane, her breaths became shallower, her resistance crumbling. The once strong body now quivered weakly, each movement a whispered plea for mercy that would not come.

Finally, the last remnants of breath left the assassin's body.

Terra exhaled deeply, the thrill of the kill still humming through her veins, an echo of the heartbeats that had resonated beneath her touch. With a lingering look at the motionless form before her, she wondered if she had ever really left her old job.

[patriamrealm]

Pt 2/3)

A wound like that should kill someone.

On a different note I personally think space time distortions should be way more disorentating, shifting between landscapes inside

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

If you kill off Barnaby in the lights out au I WILL cry-

oh. no lmao Barnaby is safe! he makes it 100% No Question about that

[divvy-div-art]

🦅🇺🇸what the fuck is a kilometre🦅🇺🇸

[everythingwasalreadypicked]

Thinking about Al post exile succumbing to monsters eventually, in a place coincidentally near Annabeth

Does she find him already dead, or alive but too late to save him? The only thing she can do being try to soothe a friend long gone as he bleeds to death in excruciating pain in front of her very eyes. Not knowing why he was a rogue in the first place.

Does she have enough time and resources in her hands to save him? Would she hesitate, or be willing to? And if she does nurse him back to health, would Alabaster even be willing to tell her about what the Olympians did on that particular August 18th? Or does he just dissappear without a single word about why he's a lone demigod with a scent as powerful as his? Abandoning her like everyone else, for the second time.

And how do you grapple with seeing your childhood friend turned enemy in such a vulnerable position/ that your childhood friend turned enemy did not kicked you more while you were down?

Anyways it's 1am, I made myself sad and I'm now gleefully inflicting the angst on other annabaster enjoyers :)

[lovely-letters-for-ed]

Problem: Captain. 😤

Solution: Kill him. 😈

Problem: Not finishing our bedtime story! ☹️

Solution: Lucius can read! 🤔

Problem: But can he do the voices??? 🥺🥺

Solution: No, he's awful!! 💀