Death Mention - Blog Posts

Hell to Pay (Part 1)

In which you call upon a demonic being who seems happy to do your bidding in exchange for a little companionship…

General Tags: +18 (Minors DNI), EXTREMELY DUBIOUS CONSENT, DARK CONTENT, Hawks x Reader, Takami Keigo x Reader, Female Reader, Fallen Angel!Hawks, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Mild to Moderate Angst, Mentions of Heavy Drinking, Reader Has Poor Self Esteem, Reader is a People Pleaser, Reader has an Ex-Boyfriend (but he’s kinda shitty), Hawks is a lil mean    

Part 1 Tags: Mentions of Death, Mild Blood, Implications of Emotional Manipulation 

Part 2 Tags: Sex as Payment, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Biting

Part II 

Also available on my AO3!

AN: uuh so that halloween fic….it’s ok if its 24 days late right???? 😂

PLEASE READ BEFORE DIVING INTO THE FIC!!

Many elements in this fic are taken from Dante’s Inferno and Paradise Lost, so please just bear that in mind before delving in!

There is also VERY DUBIOUS CONSENT – reader does agree in the end, but it’s not without some hesitation, so please do not read this if that makes you uncomfortable! In addition to the above tags, if descriptions of emotional manipulation, self-deprecation, sickness and severe headaches make you uncomfortable, then this fic will not be fun for you!    

I left the reader’s intentions for the summoning ambiguous because I thought that would be easier/more inclusive if that makes sense???

HUGE THANK YOU to @keilemlucent for beta reading! 💕💕💕  

Hell to Pay (Part 1)

Thirteen candles, three tubs of salt, ten tubes of paint and a clumsy hand wound.

What has your life come to? You’re probably not even doing this right. There must be some more in-depth method to a summoning, because this all seems too textbook.

Thirteen candles; twelve placed in a circle at each point of a clock so the demon can find the way out of Hell, and the thirteenth in your hand so the demon can find you.

A ring of salt around the twelve candles to keep it trapped. Hopefully a breeze doesn’t disrupt the circle mid-ritual…

Ten tubes of red paint to draw the pentagram, each symbol and image copied straight from the book you’d ordered.

And a hand wound to get the blood needed to entice the demon to come out. You would smack yourself across the face if it didn’t hurt so much. Because the concept of summoning a demon is so incredibly ridiculous – and the fact that you’re sitting before a scene that looks like it’s come straight from some cheaply made horror flick – that you want to scream.

But it’s worth a shot, isn’t it? You’ve had a pretty bad week. Even if this doesn’t work, it’s nice to fantasise about summoning the worst Hell has to offer and setting them loose as a collective fuck you to the world.

Keep reading

Charon - Story Character References

Full Name: Derek Species: Reaper Gender: Genderfluid [ANY PRONOUNS BUT TENDS TO LEAN TOWARDS HE/HIM/HIS] Age: unknown Sexuality: Panromantic Asexual Height: seems tall but also short at the same time? No one's sure. Myer Briggs: ESFJ Voice Claim: ? STATUS: MISSING PRESUMED DEAD

Full Name: Andrea Utoqi Species: Vampiric Lizardfolk Gender: Female [She/Her/Hers] Age: Old enough Sexuality: Panromantic Pansexual Height: 7ft 2in Myer Briggs: ISTJ Voice Claim: ?

Full Name: Dedra Species: Reaper Gender: Female [She/Her/Hers] Age: Young Sexuality: Hasn't thought about it yet Height: 3ft 4in Myer Briggs: Not old enough to have fully cemented her personality Voice Claim: Catbug from Bravest Warriors

tidbids:

Andrea and Derek used to date. They decided they were better off as friends shortly after Derek was granted the title of Death. Charon was insecure about this fact but hid it.

Dedra is in a very Steven Universe situation. She's growing up in the shadow of someone who came before her while trying to figure out her own shit. She tries her best to help, but there's only so much a child can do. The adults have to help too.

Andrea was a vampire before Derek was awarded the title of Death. How she became one is something she doesn't talk about.

Who Death was before Derek is something the higher-ups don't talk about. So, no one knows.

Derek’s life before he met Andrea is a big question mark. Where he came from, what his story is, and literally anything about his past is something he never talked about

Full Name: Charon Pagano

Species: Soul Collector (formerly human)

Gender: Male [he/him/his]

Age: unknown

Birthdate: November 8th

Sexuality: Demiromantic Asexual

Height: 5ft 5 in

Myer Briggs: ISFP

Voice Claim: Virgil "Anxiety" Sanders from Sanders Sides

Related Characters: Espi; Derek, Andrea, Dedra; The Soul Collector (link to ref when it's done)

Charon was born on the streets, taken care of by drifters until they deemed they needed to drift in a different direction from a child. They weren't his parents. They didn't have responsibility towards him. No, Charon had no one to take care of him but himself. And that was fine.

He scrounged up what he could, used what others didn't need, and started getting getting minimum wage jobs as soon as people would hire him. He was hired on as simple things. But, with no formal education, he didn't have much of a chance for anything else.

Until he started overhearing dark secrets. Secrets that people wanted other people dead. And, well, they'd pay for it. Charon had two choices: turn these secret holders in and probably get hit himself for being a rat. Or get the job done.

He became a psuedo-hit man. Getting paid to kill others. It got him what he needed. He never liked that he did it, but it was what life handed him. It was fine, for a bit.

But police figured out what he was. And he was the subject of a man hunt across the united states as he fled. He was shot in a confrontation and crawled to an alley to die. He was born there, he would die there.

Death approached this dying man and felt pity for his soul. He could hear Hell calling for this man but.... Charon had been dealt a bad hand. Most people who were dealt a bad hand like this were negotiated away to purgatory- or they were condemed to hell. And Death usually didn't care. But Charon reminded him so much of another.....

Death squirreled Charon a once-in-a-blue-moon deal he couldn't refuse. He'd become a soul collector. One who would be tasked with collecting souls that Death missed and became ghosts. It was true what they said, no one could be everywhere at once. He had to collect the souls of ones who were harmful to mortals. But the ones who were minding their own buisness? Up to him as to what to do with them.

Charon accepted.

Death introduced himself as Derek, a being capable of splitting his soul off into multiple bodies so he could do his job. Derek and Charon became close as Derek taught the new soul collector the ropes. Charon felt Derek understood him, and was the closest thing that Charon had towards being a friend. Even more....

But it all came crashing down one morning. Andrea, a vampiric former guardian of Death when Death was still a new, fragil soul, came to Charon in tears. The higher ups could not find Death or his soul anywhere. And when they looked..... They found the world had created a new Death. A young girl who said her name was Dedra.

Derek was gone, as good as dead. Charon now forces himself to focus on the task he has been given. Pick up the slack from the new Death and gather souls as best he can. He just tells himself that when he's paid back his debt... He'll look for Derek's soul himself. The higher ups had to have missed something. Overlooked a small detail- something. Derek couldn't be gone.

ABOUT THE SOUL IN A JAR:

Watson was gifted to Charon when Derek was still around. This soul seems to be trapped in a magic jar that makes the heavenly powers unable to detect the soul or judge it properly, and therefore was left until it could be judged. The jar cannot be opened, no matter how hard anyone tries. It can't be broken either. It seems invincible. Derek wanted Charon to "take care" of Watson, as he didn't have time to watch over the soul anymore.

Haunting Memories

Danny is like a cockroach. No matter what happens he just keeps coming back.

Every Wayne has watched this kid die.

Every single Bat and Bird has failed to save him

They don't realize it's the same dude at first

They all just think they're having an absolute shit week.

He saved Damians life when he took that bullet

Jason watched him give his life for a kid when a bus was coming and the kid wouldn't get out of the way in time. Jason wasn't close enough (maybe they both would have lived if Jason had been closer. Faster. Better)

Cass saw the knife fly at him. She was too far. Couldn't tell to save him. She watched him fall in silence. He never made a sound.

He was at the top of a flight of stairs. Barbra watched him lose his balance. She was trapped by her chair and the daylight hours. She watched. Helpless as he tumbled to the ground, and lay, broken, before her.

Bruce was running late when it happened. His car stalled. Just as a boy, no older than his sons, ran (or flew or appeared) down the street. Out of breath. Covered in blood and bruises. Clothing torn. Bruce made to get out of the car as the boy turned and shouted. As if making his final stand. Bruce watches as the boy is gunned down by men in white. It's not until much later that he realizes the boy stopped where he, did, not because he was exhausted, but because they were running towards a crowd. That he had stopped running, had givens himself up, to protect the innocent.

Alfred held out a hand to a child. Too small and young and thin by far. He was just heading out to meet an old friend. He had no supplies, no emergency button no phone. No food to share or clean clothes to offer. Suddenly he found himself on the ground with the child on top of him, head oozing from what appeared to be a piece fallen from the building above them. The child has pushed him out of the way. His final act had been to save a stranger.

They're eating a meal in silence. All together for the first time in a long while. When there's a knock at the door. A case worker. Asking if Mr. Wayne were able to take in a child. Just for a short while. It was an emergency. He had no where else to go. They were desperate.

Bruce is tempted to say no. It's been a terrible couple of weeks. But who was he to turn away a child in need. Of course he has room. Let him tell Alfred. Just come through to the dining room when you're ready, you remember where it is of course? Excellent. We'll put extra places out for the both of you. Of course you're welcome to join us for dinner, it's awfully late and you must be starving.

Bruce goes back to let Alfred know they'll have dinner guests and is just settling in when the Boy They All Watched Die walks in closely tailing the social worker.

Chaos ensues

(reposting cuz someone wrote an awesome fic on AO3) Linking below. leave them some love if u like. they really took this snippet and ran with it!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51328789/chapters/129695641

"Cockroach (you can't kill me in any way that matters)" (in case the link breaks again)

reblog to teleport your mutuals to a massive party when jkr dies

fUCKIN' MOOD

I SWEAR

I might write something for this, I'm not super into the game but this concept makes me fuckin CACKLE

sometimes i wonder, like, what the brothers would do/how they would react to a younger mc (younger meaning ‘97-’01) because,, gen z is absolutely fucking wild. and nobody seems to take that into account, ever. 

like, an m/c coming from the human world where half the shit they say is self deprecating (”why am i so dumb? why am i Literally dumb of Ass?”), a suicidal thought (”i am so fucking Sick of being alive.” “the only person who gets to kill me is ME.”), violent (”the next person who tries to tell me that oatmeal raisin cookies are acceptable is getting my foot broken off in their Ass.”), dramatic (”i thought we were out of salsa and, not gonna lie, i wanted to commit a hate crime.”) scarily intelligent (”capitalism is a heinous machine in which all cogs will be ground into dust while trying desperately to feel important and people will Never realize that their ceaseless hard work is absolutely no match for corporate juggernauts and a handful of bigwigs. yeehaw!”)

like,,, what would the brothers even be able to Do or Say to shit like that? what do you do when you, a centuries old, immortal being, are faced with a young, fragile human, who fears no man, no god and certainly not death . the only person who could come Close to being unfazed is Levi, but imagine luci. 

imagine he says something to m/c and he caught them in a mood and they just look at him with eyes that swallow everything in their path and they go, “sure, jan.” or the inevitable “ok, Boomer.” and luci just realizes that he is Not dealing with your average, god fearing human and that dia has stuck him with an emotional juggernaut who, if given the chance, would completely and thoroughly gut any and all forms of authority - and he Knows this because they told him. 

satan absolutely Adores them though and constantly whisks them away to pick their brain because, finally, someone he likes who he can have intelligent conversations with- 

definitely more of this to come because my brain likes to run fucking LAPS for these boys

Mmm Betrayal…

//TW Blood and sadness

imagine kinning an edgy Lego monkey

couldn’t be me.

you didn’t need your heart today, right?

also anyone else see the shadow?

I had this idea about a person who died and their “soul” split in half.

Now their skeleton and their ghost are friends.

The ghost inherited the more sentimental and emotional parts, the skeleton got the will to survive, the determination, and the cunning.

Basically: Ghost = Right brain, Skeleton = Left brain.

Another ghost OC I’m working on, they don’t have a name yet, but they’re Agender.

They lived in their car 1-3 years before death, and died near or in their car and now they haunt their smashed up car which resides at the Wreckers.

The employees have learned not to mess with the car which will set off car alarms (even though they checked, and it doesn’t even HAVE car alarms), open and slam shut doors, blast music, beep, and even drive a few feet if people attempt to damage or remove any part of it.

The ghost itself is usually pretty friendly and content if no one is attempting to destroy their home, and will sometimes turn the radio on to greet employees they like.

Most of the employees have taken to hanging out at the abandoned car on their breaks either to smoke, or just to hang out, and it’s an initiation for any new employees to light them a cigarette and leave it in an ashtray on the seat near the busted window.

So yeah.

I like these OCs I’m working on.

The top one is the ghost when they were alive, basically they died on accident (kind of) and haunted their own home, but eventually attached themself to someone who was visiting (the blonde dude in the green shirt).

The ghost isn’t violent at all, just REALLY clingy.

They’re generally shy, anxious, and kind of sad, and always clings to and often wraps their body around whoever they’re attached to at the time.

The guy can’t really see them, but thinks he’s haunted because of the fact that he can always feel someone touch his hair, and shoulders and the fact that he’s always got the chills.

I think the ghost is going to either be aromantic or quoiromantic, and Non-binary.

The dude is probably an AMAB non-binary boy, I’m thinking he’s maybe Asexual and Aromantic.

Still working on them, and haven’t named em yet.

//posting this on instagram as i usually do would make me look like an attention whore so i'm just gonna write everything here bc i know no one's ever gonna read it - looks like i'm being overdramatic and complaining for nothing but i've been keeping this for myself for too long\\ + /!\tw: mentions of self-harm and suicide/!\

it's 12am and i've been crying for a few hours and every new thought i have, every single thing i look at makes me cry some more. i know i've been feeling down for years and even worse this year and a literal hell since i moved here alone, but the last few days have been the worst so far. i don't even know where to start, this life is just a fucking mess and i can't keep that weight on my shoulders anymore. it feels like i'm wandering alone as i've always been and whenever i hit rock bottom it somehow gets worse. whatever makes me happy one day is gonna destroy me the next one.

every time i get a call from my family or even when they visit, i tell them that everything's fine, the neighborhood is not so bad, school is really great and i'm making friends. friends, i tell them i'm good, not at my best but not at my worst either, no i don't own a cat but these little cuts are nothing to worry about and no worries because i can handle it. when really i've been walking around in this damn apartment for a week now and it made me lose it. i haven't eaten anything since last week (not a real meal at least, just some dumb stuff here and there), i cry myself to sleep every night, i listen to the same triggering songs on repeat, i go crazy and hide myself whenever someone's yelling in my street because it scares me, i lay in bed all day and night doing nothing and blankly staring at the ceiling, it makes me realize how i don't really have anyone by my side, someone that knows and that can act on it, no one to ease my pain as it's no one's role. also i've been sick for a few days now so i couldn't even get out of bed, i'm completely dehydrated from the crying and sweating because my body really shouldn't be reaching such a high temperature, my throat is burning, i'm starving but it just makes me feel very nauseous so i won't eat, and i woke up 4 times last night, i had hallucinations on the 4th time. when i finally got up i could barely walk and i found myself wondering where i was, i was feeling high and lost, i nearly fell in the hallway while being dizzy and trying to figure things out. i also noticed that no one's talked to me in days, except the few people i texted first and it certainly isn't helping me.

i usually spend most of my days daydreaming to escape reality but a week ago it changed and my mind's been busy with something else. i haven't been able to daydream since and i'm just forced to face my thoughts and the reality around me. so today after sitting and crying on my desk for a few hours, i just lost it, felt the need to yell and destroy everything, smash the furniture, burn the drawings, break every single object i own and used to enjoy. i didn't do any of this, but i wish i did. i'm usually dissociated from reality and now that i'm faced with it, it just makes no sense and it's driving me crazy. i thought about getting drunk, or taking too many pills, or cut some more, whatever. and then i burst into tears again and fell on my bed as i realized that it would take days, even weeks, before someone notices that i'm missing. they couldn't care less, everyone's busy with their own issues as it should be.

i keep telling myself that we all deal with some really fucked up shit, but i'm the weak one that just can't manage. the others are not breaking down like this, driving themselves crazy, or maybe they are but i can't see it. and i'm just a mess, i can't handle this. i hate this place, i'm scared of this creepy neighborhood, i'm failing all my classes, i'm not able to take care of myself - never been -, i've got no one to tell this to so i'm writing it on this dumb website and it's gonna be lost forever, i never had anyone by my side, i've been letting this loneliness kill me softly for years, the fact that no one's ever been interested in me confirms my thoughts about myself, whatever i bought to fill up this apartment is not me, my drawings are not art, they're just pieces of paper i covered to ask for help but it never fixed anything; just watch me give up and let go of this. it makes no sense anyway, i've only ever lived in my head but it's poisoned and i just can't keep going. i was never meant to be a part of this, nothing ever felt right - and what did just left me - and all of this just feels like i'll keep messing up again and again until the end.

i'm exhausted.

my english teacher just came up to my desk during the break to read the text i had written down and it starts with 'when my time comes..' and he just looked at me like 'wtf are you ok??'

i'm sorry sir i didn't mean to make you worried

i had a nightmare (i mean i think i was daydreaming or phasing out or idk) so i was on my way to the art class but as i reached it i saw him, he was waiting for me i immediately started running in the hallway and the staircase because i knew he had seen me and he was after me i reached the office and yelled 'let me hide here, please! i'll explain everything to you afterwards but please help me!' and the woman knew me so she allowed me to stay and showed me a seat behind a wall where he wouldn't be able to see me a few seconds later he came in and asked her about me, pretending to be worried she pretended to use the computer to know where i was supposed to be and then told him that she didn't know he eventually left and i told the woman everything i was crying and i couldn't take it anymore i left the building and once i was on the parking lot i decided to run again, to get hit by a car on the road the same end as all the other nightmares where he finds me again so when he finds me for real, i already have my way out.

Playing with a photo I took from an immersive production of Hamlet. Original tumblr thread here: https://catsnuggler.tumblr.com/post/131516403614/useless-swedenfacts-tsukino-png-i-just-saw-a

I feel like I’m a bit fucked in the head sometimes, but then again, I’m sure most people do. I love how I can read about a really gory crime scene and just be like “huh, ok.” But I’m afraid of touching content where people have to actually process their emotions and deal with consequences. I fear it while also hate when people in fiction don’t get affected after watching their families die.

Then there’s a piece of fanfiction that’s like, “this guy got skinned and had his organs removed while he was alive! The killer made his skin look like wings! The killer is also a religious cannibal with more than 26 murders in 6 months! His eldest son is a killer and cannibal that likes to decapitate his victims, who believes that bloodshed is honour. He’s also the protagonist’s coworker, they work for the FBI. The youngest son killed and ate his best friend’s stomach, because he believed the world wasn’t worthy of said best friends. He also force fed the protagonist his best friend’s lungs.” And I’m just like “oh lol ok”

Or sometimes when a I read gross out horror like body horror, I end up just appreciating it like an art piece in an art gallery. Which makes sense cuz I do enjoy body horror sculptures that could be found in art museums or smt. Like the one grease manga comic, the one where a family of people are obsessed with grease or whatever? I’m not sure if it’s the dialogue that’s scary because I read a version in a foreign language. But like, the images aren’t really bad, kinda just the type of stuff that makes you wanna go “ok, that’s was something. Anyways-“

It’s only ever like this when it’s gore in a podcast, book/articles/written work, or just things that don’t force you to look at the real thing or an attempt at making it look real. Or gross out in comic, manga, art work, written work, sculpture and, actually most gross out stuff is fine as long as it’s not the actual thing in front if me, (like if it’s body horror then I get grossed out when someone actually starts growing wings and antlers)

But the second a character feels guilty for killing their friend while either dissociating or sleep walking, I become too uncomfortable to keep reading it. People feel emotions, I feel emotions, I shouldn’t have such a problem with people feel negative emotions. Why do I feel like this?

25 years ago an unknown Chinese protester stood in front of a tank in defiance of the government. No one knows the identity of the man but he was given the nick name “Tank Man”. This is one of the most iconic photographs of the century.