#tw knives

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 swapmadhi/swapquill character concepts part 1 (or, I finally sat down to polish an extremely convol swapmadhi/swapquill character concepts part 1 (or, I finally sat down to polish an extremely convol swapmadhi/swapquill character concepts part 1 (or, I finally sat down to polish an extremely convol swapmadhi/swapquill character concepts part 1 (or, I finally sat down to polish an extremely convol

swapmadhi/swapquill character concepts part 1 (or, I finally sat down to polish an extremely convoluted au that’s been swimming in my head for months)

+ unimportant addition that I’m adding solely for my own amusement (blackmadhi square)


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TW: Needles

TW: Body Horror

The whumper leaves knives and needles stuck within the immortal, knowing the immortal’s body will over and around it

biggest-gaudiest-patronuses:

Someone who likes botany share some avocado fun facts with me

Well I’m not much into botany, but as a cook… literally everyone uses the WRONG technique to cut avocados. The thing where u stick the knife into the skin to cut them and then scoop them out w/ a spoon is a great way to stab yourself in the hand, not to mention wasteful. The spoon doesn’t get all the fruit out anyway, it always leaves behind some on the skin and avocados are too expensive for that bull.

The right way to do a ripe avocado is to cut it in half long-ways, (GENTLY) twist out the pit w/ the blade flat of the knife, then while the skin is still on SET THE HALVES DOWN ON THE BOARD AND CUT THEM INTO FOURTHS (this is where everyone goes wrong). Then you can peel the skin off of the fourths (if it’s properly ripe), set them back down on the cutting board, and cut them into slices from there. DON’T HOLD IT IN YOUR HAND WHILE YOU CUT!!!!! PLEASE IT MAKES ME SO ANXIOUS AND UPSET WHEN PEOPLE DO THAT, DON’T BE MERYL STREEP!

-love, someone who is really doesn’t want you to chop off a finger w/ a kitchen knife because you wanted avocado toast

As The Fire Dies

pairing:newt x reader

word count:1216

warnings:blood, injury, knives, fire, death/su*c*de, cranks/zombies, reader’s death

a/n:so, this is another from my wattpad book, which can be found here. it was two parts over there, so i’ve just stuck them together for easier reading :) also… i’m sorry!! 0_0

(Part 1)

The sound of the crackling fire calms you. You stare into it, then watch as the smoke rises up into the night sky. The stars are splattered like tiny, sparkling paint spots. While you watch them, you can think of nothing else. Not the Maze. Not hunger, nor thirst. Not the ache in your legs from running up and down sand dunes. Not even WKCD.

Your group is all sleeping around you. Aside from Thomas, of course. He either doesn’t sleep at all or is on high alert: waking up at the slightest sound.

Looking around at all of them, you smile. If there were anyone in the world you’d want to go through this hell with, it’s them. These people who you now consider friends. The people who have had your back ever since you arrived at the Glade a couple of years ago.

When your eyes land on him, though… your smile grows wider.

Newt.

The glue that holds your group together, especially during those times when things get tough. The one who always seems to know just what to say. The friend that motivates us and tries to keep us all on the same page- never taking sides. There isn’t anything wrong you can say or think about Newt. Except for one little thing: being that he is apparently oblivious to the fact that you are totally and undeniably in love with him.

*

You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. You watch Newt sleep. He snores softly, and the chilly breeze brushes his hair from his eyes. You wonder what he could be dreaming about as his lids twitch.

A sudden gust of wind disturbs your peace. It makes you shiver, so you wrap your arms tighter around your body.

You move your right hand up to your left shoulder when you feel a stinging sensation there. When you make contact with damp, raised skin, your mouth falls open. You quickly stand up and take three long strides before sitting again, farther away from your friends.

Closing your eyes, you remove your left arm from your t-shirt. You touch the skin again to feel it. The pain makes you wince, but curiosity makes you ignorant of it. Your fingers run over what feels like three jagged lines. Taking a deep breath, you pull your hand away and open your eyes.

“Oh, no.” You glance behind you upon realising you had said that out loud, but it seems that no one had heard.

You glance down at your hand. Your fingertips are red with blood. How did I not notice that I was bleeding?

*

You think back to the broken escalators you ran up a few hours ago. A Crank had grabbed you just below your neck, then Newt had kicked it back: pulling you up and running with your hand in his.

I’m infected.

You cover the scratches, glancing back at your friends once more. Tears start to form in your eyes. As they run down your cheeks, the wind picks up again. It makes them cold, causing goosebumps to rise along your arms and legs. You sniffle, rubbing the back of your hand under your nose.

The crackling fire isn’t so calming any more. It feels more like a ticking clock of your remaining life.

And as the fire dies, so do I.

(Part 2)

When you hear footsteps approaching, you quickly swipe at your eyes. “H-hey.” You don’t hear an answer, so you look up to see who it is. Newt stands above you. His hand flies up to cover his mouth.

“Y/N..” You squeeze your eyes shut. He must have seen the scratches. “How.. oh god- how long have you been there?” Newt falls down beside you. 

“Long enough.” You whisper, barely audible. “Shit. Newt- I- I just noticed them myself..”

“No.” His head falls onto your unmarked shoulder. “This isn’t happening.. not you.”

“Newt… I know- I know this is.. bad, but I don’t wanna become one of those.. things-”

Newt looks up with teary eyes and furrowed brows. “No- don’t ask me to do.. to do..”

“I’m not.” You look to your friends, pointing at them. “But you have to let me do it. Please. And I don’t… I don’t want them to know. At least.. until after. I can’t bear seeing them when-”

You watch Newt as his eyes wander all over your face. Never, ever had you seen him look this broken. “Y/N, I-”

His hand reaches for yours. You place your palms together. Slowly, your fingers slide between his, fitting together like a puzzle. You cover your joined hands with your free one and squeeze.

“I don’t wanna leave you either…any of you. And… I know.. I should have said this a long time ago.. but I-” You take a deep breath, gathering yourself. You look him in the eyes and smile. “I love you, Newt. I always have. Ever since you lifted me out of that box, I just had this.. feeling,” you lift a hand to cover your heart that is beating faster than ever, “right here.”

You watch a tear fall down his face, then wipe it away with your thumb. He shakes his head. “Love, how am I supposed to let you go when you say something like that?”

You giggle. You don’t mean to, but it just comes out. “I’m sorry. It’s the truth.”

*

You let an hour or two pass. You aren’t sure, as it passes by so slowly. You just sit and hold each other. Until you can’t anymore. Delaying what needs to happen won’t make it any better, and the pain worsens by the minute.

*

“Newt… It has to be now… I can already feel it spreading.”

His eyelids close for a few seconds. When they open again, he leans forward on his knees. Carefully, he puts his hands on either side of your face and then kisses your cheek. He rests his forehead against yours. “I do too, by the way… I love you.”

You pull your knife from the lowest pocket of your trousers. “Newt.. tell them I’m sorry. Please.. after.. tell them I love them all.” You nod against him before pulling away and turning around so as not to look at your love so broken.

Then you notice Thomas shifting. He sits up and looks around, and when his eyes land on the scene ahead, Thomas quickly rises. Before he can reach you to stop it, you lift the knife to your chest. You turn your head slightly in the direction of Newt and smile. “I love you… so much.” A single, final tear slides along your face as you close your eyes and clutch the knife tighter. “I’ll be looking over you.”

**

Newt catches your body and gently shuts your eyes. He chokes on a sob as he kisses both of your cheeks in turn and then whispers, “I’ll see you soon, love.”

**

He spends the rest of the night clinging to your body. He brushes hairs from your face and stares into the fire. Only small flames flicker now, the light only barely revealing the details of your face. Embers float around, rising up and then disappearing as they descend and disintegrate into nothingness.

-

Taglist:@jiaraendgame

an aesthetic for a very lonely keith who likes naps, knives and astronomy for anon!

an aesthetic for a very lonely keith who likes naps, knives and astronomy for anon!


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commissioned OC portrait

lumartical:

Art for @nartothelar​ ‘s possession au.

Its haunting my dreams. Thank you so much for such quality angst, i want to kill a man. how long will Ingo be able to endure this? probably longer than me.

cringebunny:

I’m joining the war on autism on the side of autism!

♥️♥️♥️

♥️♥️♥️

♥️♥️♥️

hcneyteas:

by clicking the link in the source you will find 64 dash icons ! these were inspired by a friend’s roleplay ( @tartarusfm​ ) so they have a few themes including: crime, greek mythology, art, faceless + lux lifestyle. use them if ya like, edit them if ya want !this pack has a tw of body images, blood, guns, knives + possibly more so lmk if i missed a trigger.

the feeling of a knife going down your body while blindfolded, shaking so much because of how good it feels. knowing they could press harder at any moment and you wouldn’t know. them seeing how your body reacts when they cutdifferent places, feeling yourself getting wetter. both of you knowing how much you’re getting off on being used for their entertainment. how much you love being good for them and being their pretty toy. ugh <3333

really want someone to call me under an anonymous number n threaten me until i’m paralyzed with fear only to show up at my house to kidnap me at knifepoint and keep me as their little toy

yes i want someone to become the scream villain and let me be their victim

-what do you have?
-A KNIFE!!!!

image

DATE: April 28th

TIME: 10:48PM

LOCATION: Hotel Emelia Ballroom

TRIGGERS: guns, death, blood

They were in cages, like doves with broken wings. But their wings had been broken forcefully, brutally. They were in cages, like dogs made for fighting. Some of them cut, bruised, and bleeding. They were in cages, like animals – for only animals knew not the rules of reason. So, the witches thought it necessary to enforce respect, to make a spectacle of all who thought themselves above the laws and traditions that all in Verona abided by. The Spades were in cages, as the witches had wished. Their wishes were their desires, and their desires were not to be ignored. Which was why each member of Verona’s elite – and more – had come by to pay homage. Had come to pay tribute to the punishment that had been neglected for too long.

Which was why, when they sought to take vengeance they did so brutally. And with little reservation. 

In their cages, they turned about, spinning gently as the onlookers milled about below them. The chandeliers of the room refracted nicely off the silver of the cages, catching the light of the scarlet blood that spotted some of bars here and there. It was difficult for the audience to take their eyes – some of them gleeful, some of them solemn – from the faces of those who incurred the wrath of the witches. But they did, after much difficulty, to gaze on the prizes that were placed upon pedestals. Guns of the highest quality, butterfly knives, grenades, and an assortment of other weaponry for all to gaze upon and perhaps even buy. Sentries stood in front of them, guarding the goods that were placed behind velvet ropes. They were placed there to see, to gaze at, to bid on – but not to touch, never to touch. Just as the Spades were. A show of power and a show of ruthlessness, with the witches sitting on their thrones to watch it on. 

Cinead watched with their fingers in the shape of a steeple, lips resting gently against them as they watched the cages turn about slowly, eyes hardly blinking. In contrast, Mallory sat next to them, fingers tapping restlessly, eyes flitting about – occasionally their gaze staying too long on someone else’s, too long on something else. There, to the left of Cinead, sat Hea, their body as still as a lynx’s before it pounces on the prey, tensed with the barest of smiles upon their lips as they watched the crowd shiver beneath their gaze. They did not move, they did not speak, they simply observed as items were bid on and weapons were whisked away to be transported to wherever the client wished. Juliana made occasional bids here and there, only to have Tiberius whisper furiously in her ear, a scowl on his face. A frown would quickly follow on the young Capulet’s face as she would quietly wave off the bid, before quietly walking away to the next exhibit. The Capulet soldiers exchanged glances, their lips pressing together as they quietly walked on – the small exchange hardly ever going unnoticed. 

Roman bid here and there, somewhat distracted as he bent his ear to listen to this counsel and that. Ramona, Castora, and Valentina stood close at his side, as did Bellamy who would occasionally give his opinion on this weaponry or that. Many of the Montagues were loathe to leave his side, their shoulders tensed as they glanced at either the Capulets or the Spades above. Their losses had been heavy, of late, and they were not willing to lose anymore. It showed in their faces, in the darkness that pressed itself under their eyes and the way that their fingers ticked, shifting and waiting for the bullet to burst out of the gun that they did not carry. Yet, even in their suffering state they still seemed to have pity enough for the Capulets, whose leaders were not to be found and whose boss lay in his bed, wasting away. 

But, who felt pity for the beaten birds with broken wings, wasting away in their cages? No one. 

Save for the Americans, the three who kept to themselves, but for the moments when they placed their money on this item or that. Typically, the more enviable ones. The new concoction that the witches had liberated from the Spades – the drugs that had been the ones to start the mess of this all. A shipment of M16A4s that had been taken from the American army itself. Bulletproof suits that would save more than one soul after the night was over. They mingled with the Veronans selectively, their conversation warm, but their eyes cold. Looking down their noses at these simpleton affairs of mobsters whose beliefs were antiquated, whose systems were outdated. Time was passing them by, yet they remained oblivious to it. It was something that the Americans found distasteful – and it was apparent by the way that they carried themselves, with a facade of amicability and gratitude. However, distaste could be easily swallowed when liberal amounts of money were thrown into the game. 

The money was there, evident in the fine silver cages that held the antagonists in their place. It was there, in the weaponry that glittered so temptingly for all to wield about. It was there, under the thumb of the three witches that ruled the town as gods of justice once ruled Rome. “You would think that they would have seen the money that could be gained from the dark web,” the one American muttered to the other. “The money that could be made off of the tourists…” said one. “Easy pickings,” sighed the other. They saw the glamour that the witches put on – and the purpose of the show – yet what would it come to but another century of warring between two families that should have killed themselves off long ago? “What a waste.” The three Americans sighed in unison, their gazes casting themselves in different directions, only to meet upon the prettiest bird of them all: Faron Vasiliev. 

His reputation of misdeeds and antagonism had preceded him with the Americans, who were now glad that justice had caught up to him. If one were to look, they would see the slight smirk that ghosted across Faron’s face as he looked down on them all. The satisfaction in the men’s featured seemed to be shared, seemed to be similar. As if there was a joke that only those four men knew, but would never really be privy to. But the satisfaction was also there for another reason, for ones that would not be revealed until –

A runner, a street urchin turned soldier, burst into the room, cheeks red from her running, eyes tearing up slightly. Before she could step much further, Theodora had their hand on the small girl’s shoulder, eyes narrowed as they crouched to talk to her. There were a few moments of murmuring between the two, the Capulet’s head canting to the side thoughtfully as they tucked their bottom lip carefully between their teeth. Catherine quickly came to their side, the few words that Theodora said to them clearly having an affect on the other. It seemed as if the Daly woman’s breath caught, the blood suddenly missing from her cheeks. Her fingers pressed to her lips, and it was because of this that Cinead slowly stood from their throne. Mallory’s eyes grew wide, their pupils dilating as they, too, followed – Hea, not even bothering to rise. Instead, the one witch remained where they sat, sinking into their seat even further, one hand on Mallory’s and the other grasping the arm of their throne. 

A soft humming came from above, Calina’s lips peeling into a rather disconcerting smile as one of the broken, damned birds suddenly decided to sing. 

Catherine ran to Juliana and – in a few words – had her collapsed in a sobbing heap. Catherine looked from Juliana to Tiberius uncertainly, Tiberius whispering a few words to Priam, who stood close at hand. The young Capulet woman seemed as if she were trying to collect herself from the mess she had become, but to little avail. Her fist was pressed to her lips, heaving cries shaking her chest. In contrast, Tiberius glanced about the room, eyes meeting every Capulets in a silent call to rally around him. And they did, one following the other. Catherine met his eyes – her lip trembling for a half a second before she nodded at him – and grabbed Juliana by the arm, half-dragging, half-carrying her out of the room. But, before she could, she was stopped by the quiet laughter that echoed in the room, acting like a ripple as the crowd began to still, began to listen to it in silence. 

“Care to tell us what you find so amusing, Faron?” Cinead asked, their voice half-tainted by the tremor. 

A bark of laughter escaped Grace. The goading in it was answer enough for Faron.

“Well?” Mallory asked, their soft voice carrying in the pin-drop silence of the room. 

Well is something Cosimo Capulet will never be.” The Spade boss answered, after a time. “Because he is quite dead.” 

  • At that Theodora grabbed Juliana by the arm as an inhuman wail escaped the girl, who was half-fighting against the underboss (for how long?) because she was loathe to be dragged away from her cousin. But it was in vain as Theodora shoved their way through the crowd, only to be almost killed by a falling cage. Out of it rolled Faron himself, who brushed himself off as if it were nothing, taking the time to mime a gun at both woman. He fired two shots at the woman, only to have Theodora shove Juliana aside to land vengeful blows on the weakened Vasiliev. 
  • The next cage came careening down and from it came Calina, her steps slightly shaky as she picked herself up. Alexander came barreling at her, but before he could, Orion stepped in his way. The bullet flew before Alexander could reconsider, hitting Orion in the stomach. Down he went, only to have Hector fly to his side as Calina made her escape. 
  • But, before she could make her way to Faron, Priam had her in his grasp. Who could count how many blows he landed on her before Lillian tore him away. Taking Calina’s hand in hers, the two woman ran to Faron, pulling Theodora off of him. 
  • The cages kept on dropping – Alva and Grace the last to fall. Grace saw Hector run to Orion’s side, grabbed a butterfly knife, then threw it into the Montague’s side. He barely made it to Orion and she was already have to wreak havoc on those she considered blood. Before she could grab another, Kai had grasped her hand and the two began to exchange blows, one as thirsty for blood as the other. 
  • Alva only wanted to escape with their fellow Spades, but before they could go to help Faron, they were stopped by Valentina standing in the doorway. They began to back away, but the Montague captain lunged at them, throwing punch after punch. Alva was about to throw up their hands to fend off the brutal blows, but Faron was at their side, grabbing the woman by the hair and knocking her out cold. 
  • Castora was about to come to Valentina’s aid, when Calina confronted her, having been reassured that Faron and Alva were fine – as ready for blood as an animal that has been cornered. Ramona spotted her friend and cousin in trouble and quickly made her way to Castora’s side. It was an unfair fight, two against one, when Pavel decided to throw his dice into the fray. Grabbing Castora’s attention, he began to toy with her as Calina fought tooth and nail against Ramona, although it quickly turned vicious. 
  • As Alva and Faron turned, they found their path blocked by Lucrecia, her pistol aimed steadily at the Spades boss. Alva quickly moved in front of Faron, and Lucrecia adjusted her aim - but the sound of a gun cocking right next to her ear had her dropping her weapon. Pavel had broken away from his fray. Faron saluted him, and Pavel spat at him in response - he’d kill him in an instant if it was worth the trouble. Priam, spotting Lucrecia, storms over and wrestles the gun from Pavel’s hand - the two have at it.
  • Odessa had been about to run to Alexander’s side when she was stopped by Lillian, who wished to stop the woman from getting caught in the gunfire more than anything. But Odessa certainly did not see it that way. She came after Lillian ready to draw blood – and Lillian only sought to defend herself as well as strike the woman down to stop her from fighting anymore. Nikolai watched and waited to see which way this fight would go. When Lillian seemed to be gaining the upper hand, he wanted to tip the scales. 
  • But Tiberius was not about to let him do that. It only took but a couple of minutes before Tiberius had Nikolai at his feet, then made his way over to Faron. But, just as he did, he saw Roman with the same intention in mind: to remove this man before he could create anymore problems. However, one wanted to rid the world of the evil while the other wanted blood for blood. Tiberius was not about to let Roman take the only bit of honor the Capulets were likely to have left. 
  • Tiberius had been about to put a bullet Roman’s head when Bellamy stopped him, the two fighting with Tiberius clearly having the upper hand. It was not until Regina pulled Tiberius back that he stopped beating the Montague boy senseless, but she had not done so without putting herself in danger. She had been able to remain out of the sight of her sister until now. 
  • Grace had left Kai bleeding upon the floor and now had her knife at the ready to draw family blood. Just as the knife left her hand, Catherine stepped in the way to defend her Regina – catching the knife in her shoulder. Just as Catherine cried out, Regina flew to engage her sister. Cain had killed Abel, so couldn’t Regina kill Grace? 
  • But before that question could be answered, the witches had moved to the doors, impeding anyone from leaving. Their sentries had long ran away from the fray and Faron had just made his way to the door. Faron stood, looking Hea in the eye, Calina looked Cinead in the eye, teeth bared as she had just bested the Montague woman. The frays were slowly dying down, each Spade making their way to stand behind their boss as they waited for the witches to move. Hea whipped out a gun, pointing the barrel at his head –

                                                          BANG. BANG. BANG.


Ding dong – the witches are…dead? Cinead clutched their middle, Hea clutched their hand, Mallory cried out as they clung to their side. The “Americans” shoved through the crowd, stepped over the grimacing witches, then opened the doors, holding them open for the Spades. No one moved, too stunned by their gods having been cast to the ground, to do much else except watch in shock and fury as the Spades walked out of the room, worse for wear yet having all the cards in their hand. Calina was the last to leave the room, her eyes casting about with dark satisfaction as she cleared her hoarse throat. When her gaze landed on Juliana, she spoke – partially to the broken woman, partially to the whole entire room. 

“The Spades have ceased the Capulet assets. We control your goods, your funds, and what remains of your mob. You will be cast out within three days’ time – and you can either take up with the Montagues or do as you see fit. Either way, since we now have your assets, as well as our own, we more or less control the city. We, more or less, control you all.” To punctuate her sentence, she glanced down at the bleeding bodies of the witches, whose hearts beat less with each minute that passed. She closed the doors behind her, leaving them as spectacles. 

She had been a caged bird, but these were ones that had been broken and knew not how to recover. To cage them would be senseless – cages were meant for the living, not the dead. 

And, when the door closed, it seemed as if a spell had been broken. The Capulets and the Montagues picked up their beaten and their battered, calling for the aid of medics who had just arrived. Tiberius and Roman sat on the steps of the thrones that had been once occupied by those whom they had considered invincible. As everyone milled about like soldiers, half-dead after a battle, they looked at one another – a silent exchange as they sat in the wreckage of their common enemy. The blood of the Montagues and the blood of the Capulets mingled upon the hallowed floor of the Hotel Emelia, the ichor of the gods mixed in there with them. Both their hands were stained with it since the two men had done what they could to keep the witches from bleeding out more. 

Its fate was sealed as Tiberius Capulet and Roman Montague shook bloodied hands upon the steps of a throne that would know its final war. 


OVERVIEW: Cosimo Capulet is dead. The Capulets and Montagues have called a momentary peace and alliance as the Spades have taken over Verona. The Capulets are removed from their place of honor in Verona, their home is taken from them by the Spades – both literally and figuratively. The Spades are able to implement their authority through the police force, who they have in their pocket since they have their revenue as well as the Capulet’s – who have made much more what with their deals with the Koreans, thanks to Juliana Capulet. The Spades, reigning supreme, have the people of Verona under their thumb due to the fact that the witches are incapacitated as well. Both Cosimo Capulet and Damian Montague are dead. The crowns that the mobsters once wore are broken and their kingdom is being run by a tryant. The people of Verona have forsaken the Capulets and Montagues because of this and the two mobs are shunned. Anyone affiliated with them is now treated as a common person, or less than that. Italians do not look kindly upon the fallen. Things are getting shaken, Verona, you walk on unsteady ground. Take care. 

OOC: As always, feel free to play these interactions out on the dash. You may now date your interactions between the dates of APRIL 30TH and MAY 20TH. Keep in mind your character’s injuries and recovery time. The Montague and Capulet alliance is not likely to begin smoothly and we expect character interactions to follow as such. The Spades will likely hunt them down – if not to kill them, then to goad them into a fight. Things are going to be tense, bloody, and painful for the next couple of weeks in Verona. How will your character react to these new changes? Who else is going to die before the city pieces itself together once more? Again, tag your interactions within this event as event:reckoning. If you have any questions, feel free to drop an ask in the main’s inbox!

cg29fics:

Gone

If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other update please let me know. @janetm74@drileyf@katblu42@ak47stylegirl@psychoseal@dragonoffantasyandreality@weirdburketeer@alexthefly@misstb2


Previous: Chapter 7 - RestlessAlternatively you can read the entire fic on Ao3 or FFNet


Chapter 8: Nightmare

Virgil knew he was dreaming, but the nightmare world the Hood had promised him still seemed so real. He and his family hadn’t been here in 15 years, not since that day that had taken their mother from them, and now here he was, experiencing that day again.


The dream began with Virgil standing on the slopes, he was watching the families, who were all oblivious to him, skiing joyfully, without a care in the world. As he continued to glance around Virgil caught sight of three boys, helping their mom and dad teach their two youngest brothers how to ski. Although, the younger two both seemed more satisfied with throwing snow at each other than the actual skiing. The family all looked so content, unaware that tragedy was about to strike.


Virgil looked up at the top of the mountain, he could see someone standing up there, with their eyes transfixed on the young boys playing happily with their parents. Virgil realised immediately who the man was and what was about to happen. He turned towards the family, his family, and yelled at them to run but they couldn’t hear him, no one did. He was merely a spectator, unable to help, unable to stop the tragic events from occurring.


As the avalanche began, Virgil watched in horror as he saw his mother and father look up and see the snow beginning to fall. He saw his dad dart for the youngest two, swooping them into his arms and running for safety. He saw Scott and John heading in the same direction. Then he saw something he had forgotten in the trauma, something he had wiped from his memory, now that memory was being forced back to the surface and he was being made to relive it once more.


He saw his younger self running next to his older brothers, but then he slipped and fell forwards, he then saw his mother and Scott stop, turn and yell his name. He heard his mother tell Scott to keep running, while she ran back towards him and pulled him up into her arms. She started to run once more but it was too late. Virgil saw the look of fear and shock in his dad and his brother’s eyes as the snow hit his mother and his younger self, and the others who had been unfortunate to be caught in the avalanche’s grasp.


Virgil began to feel the fear of his mother, he could feel the snow and the freezing cold ice cutting through her body like a knife. He could feel her body shudder with the coldness as she tried desperately to protect her child’s life.


Virgil felt the tears coming to his eyes as he saw people digging for any survivors. Then he heard a woman shout for help saying that she had found someone. He saw other people rush over and pull his younger self from the snow, he saw someone wrap a blanket around him and then pass him carefully to a waiting medic. He saw his dad and his brothers run over to him in relief that all he had sustained was a concussion and some possible side effects from the cold.


He then saw them turn to their mother, who had been placed on a stretcher, she was being attended to by another medic. Virgil then saw his father rush to his wife’s side and grasp her hand, begging her to keep fighting, begging her to live, and then finally he saw his mother look up into his dad’s eyes before taking her final breath, as she left their world forever.


Virgil backed away from the scene that was unfolding, unable to take the pain anymore. As he moved away everything began spinning around him. He then found himself once again standing on the slopes, the families all around him skiing happily without a care in the world.


“No, no, no, no!” Virgil cried. “Not again!”


He looked up and he could see the Hood looking towards him laughing. Virgil dropped down onto his knees and buried his head in his hands.


“Oh God… Please stop!” The tears were now falling freely down Virgil’s face, as the Hood continued his menacing laugh.


“Scott! Please. Please Scott! Help me!”


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I’m speechless.

Emotional Baggage

Under the cut due to potential triggers which are tagged. If any of the tags are your triggers, please refrain from looking under the cut.

bold whatever applies to your muse. italicize the things that only happen in other verses. REPOST , DON’T REBLOG.

been cheated on  |  been bullied  |  had your heart broken  |  broken someone’s heart  |  told a horrible lie |  been betrayed  |  been framed / set-up |  stolen something of value |  overdosed on drugs  |  been drunk |  cheated  |  bullied  |  been publicly humiliated  |  punched someone in the face  |  been beaten up  |  broken a bone  |  been admitted to a hospital  |  put someone in the hospital |  had a near - death experience | been drugged  |  done drugs  |  smoked  |  been arrested | been homeless  |  been forced to commit a crime  |  died and come back to life  |  kissed someone you weren’t attracted to  |  bled severely |  killed someone  |  been forced to kill someone |  had an attempt on your life | lost someone  | loved someone  |  watched a loved one die  |  failed to save / help a loved one |felt helpless  |  watched your world die / disappear  |  had your life’s work stolen / destroyed  |  gone without food for over three days  |  gone without sleep for over three days | been tortured  |  been shot  |  been stabbed  |  been poisoned  |  been held prisoner |  been trapped  |  been buried alive  |  been held hostage |  held someone hostage  |  been stuck in a different world / universe / time  |  been slapped / punched by a parent or higher up  |  been abused by someone who should have loved / appreciated / valued you  |  had a panic attack  | had night terrors  |  been in a car accident  |  lost your job  |  lost a fight  |  had sex with a stranger  |  been divorced  |  been abandoned |  passed out from pain   |  cried yourself to sleep  |  spent a whole day in bed | taken your anger out on yourself  |  taken your anger out on someone you love  | been used  |  been manipulated  |  felt used  |  manipulated someone else |  had your memories / mind wiped / stolen or tampered with  |  been taken over by a hostile force  |   been terrified |  played a cruel game on someone  |  been forced to smile | felt too many things at once  |  laughed when you felt like crying  |  been in denial  |  been denied  |faced your demons

tagged by: @stingslikeabee [Thank you!!]

tagging:@shadowxcetra@ancientblxde@pinkvanna@legendaryturk @iosonostanco@lickmysparkstick@turkoftheslums@turkanvivia@ofgeneticperfection@lovelessblade @volunteeredturk and everyone who wants to do this~

selfsaving:

AGGRESSION   //   SEXUAL  TENSION .

acts  that  could  be  aggressive   //   or  a  little  bit  sexy   //   or  both.
                    send  a  symbol  from  your  muse  to  mine.  feel  free  to  combine  actions  or  add  specifics  even  when  it  doesn’t  ask  for  it   !     can  send  non - sexually  as  well.

THREATENING

  •    //   put  a  knife  to  my  muse’s  throat .
  • ️   //   put  a  hand  around  my  muse’s  throat .
  •    //   slide  a  weapon  up  under  my  muse’s  shirt     (   can  specify   ) .
  •    //   grab  my  muse  by  the  collar   &   pull  them  closer .
  •    //   lock  my  muse  in  a  room  alone  with  your  muse .
  •    //   verbally  threaten  my  muse     (   please  specify   ) .

PINNING

  •    //   push  my  muse  against  a  wall .
  •    //   pin  my  muse’s  wrists  above  their  head .
  •    //   grab  my  muse  hard  enough  to  leave  a  bruise .
  •    //   handcuff  my  muse .
  • ➰   //   tie  my  muse  to  a  chair .
  • ⭕   //   restrain  my  muse  with  an  item  of  clothing     (   please  specify   ) .
  •    //   push  my  muse  to  the  ground   &   straddle  them .
  •    //   tell  my  muse   ‘  stop  squirming   ! ’ .
  •    //   otherwise  restrain  my  muse     (   please  specify   ) .

LIGHTER

  •    //   grab  my  muse’s  jaw   &   direct  their  gaze  towards  yours .
  • ⚡   //   tug  my  muse’s  hair .
  • ⚠️   //   bite  my  muse     (   can  specify  where   ) .
  •    //   give  my  muse  a  hickey .
  • ✂️   //   run  fingernails  over  my  muse’s  skin   &   scratch  them .
  •    //   cover  my  muse’s  mouth .

DARKER

  •    //   give  my  muse  a  kiss  that  draws  blood .
  • ️   //   cut  my  muse  with  a  knife     (   can  specify  where   ) .
  •    //   kidnap  my  muse .
  •    //   put  a  hand  over  my  muse’s  nose   &   mouth .
  •    //   tighten  something  around  my  muse’s  throat  that  restricts  their  blood - flow  /  oxygen  supply     (   please  specify   ) .
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