Death Tw - Blog Posts

[ ELODIE YUNG, 35/249, CIS WOMAN, SHE/HER ] FRANCINE SEANG just walked down main street. They are a CEO who has been in Silverkeep for 1 MONTH. They are part of the OBSIDIAN clan and act as SECOND IN COMMAND. People know them as DEDICATED & LOYAL but also HEDONISTIC & BRUTAL. They are described as CRIMSON LIPS, PARTYING ALL NIGHT, A SNARL THAT CAN FREEZE YOUR BLOOD.

MURDER, MISCARRIAGE & DEATH TW

Francine’s story is a cautionary tale for the ages. Born in Paris in 1774 to a family that belonged to the aristocracy, she knew a lavish lifestyle from the moment she took her first breath. The only daughter in the Sean household, she was doted upon, something that angered her. While she liked the attention and endless possibilities that her family’s wealth gave her, she wanted more.

The Seang family were known as a legacy in the supernatural world, hunters and black magic objects with a reputation for being as ruthless as the monsters they were chasing. And Francine wanted in more than anything. And it was by showing on one of their hunts and taking down a vampire that she showed her family she was just as good as the others. From then on, she trained with her brothers and was allowed out after dark.

The family needed to keep the appearances, attending soirées, balls, and all sorts of events were required. And somehow, Francine always found a way to step out of line all while remaining charming. She became known as the life of the party, envied and hated by the other girls and sought out by the boys.

When the time came, Francine had to marry, an unmarried woman always being frowned upon. The match was one made by her family, a man who dealt in the same kind of things as the Seang. It was mostly a loveless marriage, one of convenience for both. There were moments of tenderness but they always seemed to be followed by screams from both. He wanted Francine to be a dutiful wife and stop hunting. And that was something she would never do. They seemed to be unable to bore children, something that did weight on Francine who dreamed of having a daughter who could follow in her footsteps. There were miscarriages, many of them, and the last one almost left her for dead. Maybe that was why she had been more careless that night.

Her father had recently killed a vampire’s mate, the one left behind was hell bent on revenge. And she wanted the Seang to pay, every single one of them. Death was too clement for what they did and only one thing would truly hurt them. And that’s how Francine became a vampire, taken by surprise and turned into what her family hated the most. The vampire who turned her thought that the Seang would forced to kill their only daughter, causing them great pain. But like it happened so often, someone was underestimating Francine.

When the Seang realized what Francine was, they tried to kill her and fought until their last breath, all of them. With an instinct for survival more powerful than anything, Francine was the only one to walk out of her family’s house that night. And by the time the bodies were discovered, she had fled France.

Francine traveled Europe, changing her name every time. When she left her life behind, she took every penny her family had, along with priceless artifacts and dark magic objects. Secured away, she let them become legends, things that no one alive ever saw. It wasn’t until the 1900′s that she took her name back and started to build her own fortune through the dealings her family once did. The value of the objects in her possession was unable to even put a price on, which attracted a lot of buyers.

Meeting the Obsidian coven was the end of her life on her own, family having found the family she always wanted. These days, she is a very powerful and rich CEO of a tech company, investing in the right places before most even thought to do so.

[ ADRIA ARJONA, 33, CIS WOMAN, SHE/HER ] BEATRIZ BURGOS just walked into the French Quarter. They are a HUNTER/BOOKSTORE CLERK who has been in New Orléans for 3 WEEKS. They are AWARE of the supernatural. People know them as INTELLIGENT & ADAPTABLE but also as ESCAPIST & DUPLICITOUS. They are described as SHARP EYES, AN ALWAYS WORKING MIND, FAINT AFTERTASTE OF COFFE.

DEATH & MURDER TW

From the moment she was born, Beatriz had only eyes for her father, something that made her mother laugh. She would take care of the infant all day long and the moments the baby heard the car stop in the driveway, the motherly care was long forgotten.

When her father started to travel for work, mother and daughter would get along well, spend time together, and forge memories that would last a lifetime, but all of that went out the door as soon as her father came back. It became a teasing point between the two parents and when Beatriz got older, something to tease her with too. Despite the favoritism, the Burgos were a tight-knit family.

Ten years ago, news of her father's passing hit Beatriz with the full force of grief. The fact that her mother became withdrawn and kept the details of her father's passing didn't help. Suddenly, Beatriz found herself fighting her mother, pushing against what was told.

Beatriz started to ask questions, too many of them, and it eventually got her in trouble, the kind she wasn't prepared for. Attacked by a vampire, and saved by a hunter, a world she never knew existed opened up in front of her. The hunter knew her father and was the one to tell her the truth; he was killed during a hunt. All the traveling she did for work was him going on hunts and Beatriz felt like her whole was a lie.

After that night, Beatriz started to train hard and became a hunter herself, with only one goal, finding her father's killer and avenging him. It lead her to New Orleans and she's not stopping at anything to get to the bottom of it.

"6,000,000,000 ways to die — pick a single one."

This was my first artwork of this year. It ended up being kind of muddy and not all that interesting or good, but I still like the idea.

//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.

bear with me

i was left in this dark place

alone and scared, crying, looking for a way out, for some light somewhere

but the only light i can find is showing me the faces of the monsters that put me here, tortured me

abused me

they live within me

i’m left here again, in the dark

i tried to run away but they always come back

they always find their way back to me, i can feel them getting closer to get me

i should be running away, find an escape

an escape?

but it’s all in my head

no, no.. it can’t be

they destroyed everything here and left their demons

they won’t leave me

it’s dark, i can’t get out

an escape?

there’s no escape

please, bear with me

or else i might find my way out, out of my head

and it’ll be too late

but you’ll be safe

the demons’ll be dead

i’ll keep you safe

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.

If you ever feel like this my inbox is forever open ! ❤️

A gun

A quick escape

To exit this thing called life

My Brain can’t take no more

Every day I force a smile

For what?

For fuck all

My head can’t think no more

I don’t want be on this place called earth

I want be dug deep in the ground

Out of this crazy life

Where there is no escape

From my self .

It’s a mess.

I give up fighting the urge everyday

To just end this shit.

For real.

If I had trigger

I wouldn’t hestatie

To know it would be over within a blink

It’s the perfect escape .

It’s lucky I don’t owe one

Or I would be in a place I call home .

Heaven .

Away from this nightmare

I can’t escape.

Please lord give me strength not

To put a end to my own light.

I don’t know why you placed me upon this life

And have me air to breathe

Every night

I ask why ?

What is my purpose to you under this dark light

Maybe the easy way out

People will say

But there don’t know the state of my mind .

It’s hard to cooperate

When all I see around me is snakes

I’m done with life .

Even the ones who claim to love me

Can’t see what is doing to the insides of me.

Life is a joke

No one gives a flying fuck

That my brain is turning into sticky glue

With words I can’t relate to .

Just tired of the pain my mind plays daily

I would rather live in a zoo

Then play this game of 2.

Hate is a strong word

But belive me when I say I hate this earth.

It’s full of devils

Ain’t no angels here

Just a fuckin game of tug .

I ain’t got the strentgh to pull

The fucker to my side no more.

Years of fighting with my own

To now just want be put in a hole.

I’ve learnt to accept it’s the only place

Im going be at rest

With my crazy soul.

I’m close to admit

The fucker has won .

@trueemotions91

Don’t put out the light out on me

I asked

Ever so silently .

He turned ever so slightly

With a grin upon upon his cheek

Blew the light

And I was gone within a blink .

@trueemotions91

You better not have skipped over reading a single name on that list

Never thought that BabyNames.com would make me cry like this.

Say their names!

black.

black for miles. a single speck of it for eternity and no more than the size of an atom.

white - but just a flash. 

as soon as it disappeared, she found herself remembering it, holding the memory steady in her mind’s eye like a precious gem. white in a stitch. the gleaming curve of a coffee mug. pristine starched polyester blend. ceiling.

the inside of her eyes.

red.

it’s everywhere, it’s coming to choke her and she’s screaming, she’s screaming, she’s  ————

breathing.

the air was unnaturally thick and the moment it touched her throat she felt the pull of her abdomen, the revolt of her lungs. what she vomited out was all but discernible and only fractionally thicker than the very air that choked her.  

ropey growths were receding from splayed out limbs, almost hissing in their eagerness to withdraw and disappear. quicker than a startled snake, the vines were there and gone. but by then there was no time to notice that nothing remained to keep her upright. before she knew it, the charcoal ground was racing toward her at breakneck speed. 

the thud of her knees and meat of her palms colliding against the solid surface below rang agonizingly through dead air, knocking any hopeful gasps clean from her lungs. on all sides, the wash of blood-tinged rage surrounded chrissy in a bubble of fear. something like a gunshot tore through claggy air to rattle her eardrums to the point of pain. whatever she had fallen upon shook to the rhythm of each shot.

all chrissy could do was count one pang after another that rippled through her muscles. she could unmistakably sense herself gagging between every breath, but nothing came out. 

more shots. 

heat. strong, aggressive heat, like someone had thrown a lit match into spilt gasoline.

a roar, brimming with not just shock and pain, but fury. chrissy’s whole body shook fearfully, though it didn’t get much time to do much of it. after what seemed like only a few seconds of half-consciousness, the world once again emptied to void.

forever passed, all in a sliver of a second. 

then she split her lids to a deep shade of navy. 

opening her eyes fully right away seemed a feat too ambitious. chrissy cunningham (that was her name, wasn’t it?) trembled on what she could only hope was brittle grass. fingers hungry for something recognizable wove unsteadily through strands dryer than even the hawkins football field in summer. one mississippi, two mississippi, you can do this. four mississippi, five mississippi, you can do this, come on. you’re supposed to be tougher than a few bumps. 

the tail end of the thought sounded suspiciously like her mother and that shouldn’t have been the voice that propelled her to all fours, but it did. height did not agree with her stomach at first, nor did her fluttering muscles react with enthusiasm to being strained. every movement shot lightning through through her limbs, forcing chrissy to grit her teeth against the discomfort.

part of the storm above her had gotten itself stuck inside her body. the dead girl swore she could hear identical thunder hiding in her head behind clouds of confusion.

confusion that did not abate when she at last managed to stand to her full height. 

everywhere, in every direction, wasteland. a half-hearted impression of hawkins. derelict rocket playground in view across the street and with woods to every side, chrissy gulped almost without realizing. that could only put her at one place in hawkins.

the murder house.

turn around, chrissy. you were dead a minute ago. just turn around. 

after another eternity of of shaky stalling, chrissy completed a heel rotation. and screamed. shock knocked her back a few stumbling feet until she’d collapsed on her back again, all of her hard work to get upright undone.

it wasn’t only the murder house. 

interrupting her view of what used to be a glamorous home were four trees that absolutely were not present in the real hawkins. two on each side of the creel’s front door, now smashed almost entirely off its hinges. at the bottom of the stairs spread a charred circle of earth burnt bald. smoke still faintly drifted from the spot as if chrissy was only just barely too late to arrive for all the action. adding insult to injury, the sight of the house was far from the worst part.

the tree closest to her boasted a hollow eerily in the shape of a small human body. a knowledge chrissy had no place for rustled in her chest, sinking to the base of her spine: if she stood again and spread her arms across the trunk, she would fit inside that hollow with an accuracy that belied a supernatural force almost too horrendous to consider for a moment longer. wood yawned in a frozen howl, sending her eyes frantically skipping to the next tree. and the next. where the bodies of fred benson and patrick mckinney hung as warped trophies to sadism and the kind of eternal grudge encountered only in fiction. 

this tableau was the farthest thing from fiction if the pounding in her head was any proof. here were preserved testaments that fear remained the ultimate weapon.

a girl’s helpless sobs rent the air. because that was all chrissy was: a helpless, weak, lost girl. nothing was making sense. chrissy collapsed against the pedestal that would have held her broken body akimbo had something  —  someone?  —  not broken apart his hold on the last of her very soul. a miracle, maybe. was that possible? even as she wearily succumbed to a tsunami of tears, a rebellious flare of hope ignited at the sight of the fourth, empty tree. patrick and fred hadn’t managed to run free, but someone else had. like her.

with that thought, she gasped for a square breath, determined to pull together enough to leave this horrible place. one proper step at a time.

much easier said than done. 

every step seemed to shoot fire directly through her bones to inflame her joints, the cause utterly mysterious until she looked down. the sight sent shaking hands flying to her cardigan to whip it off and investigate more thoroughly. elbows. shoulders. wrists. knees. ankles. hips. all of them bruised so deeply that her body seemed to halfway disappear into the sickly mauve landscape. the skin under her eyes, too, felt tender and puffed. when her hand withdrew from prodding them the tips were covered in rusty flakes. she flicked them away and they listlessly drifted away like ash. blood, long since dried.

a wet sigh slipped from lips edging closer to dried, mangled flesh than anything that could be mistaken for something alive. she really had been dead, hadn’t she? or something too close to death. chrissy certainly felt weary enough to have startled from a slumber she’d never been meant to wake from. and here she was, painfully awake and alive in a place fit for nothing but dead, quiet things. a living nightmare. 

somewhere she would rather die than remain in for much longer. again. 

well... freedom was no closer the longer she huddled here in terror. 

weak breaths came in quick succession as chrissy cunningham put her back to the ghost of the hawkins murder house, limped down the steps, scurried past the playground, and let the main road wind ahead of her and lead her anyplace else. 

hopefully home.

FowlFest 2023, day5, favourite scene

Heavy tlc spoilers

Artemis,

Help me.

We don't possibly talk enough about this scene. And theres no valid excuse for that!

We all, including Holly, know what he did was for the better; and he did not in fact let her die.

But imagine being stabbed through your heart with a fucking cursed sword, and you ask the one and only person you trust to save you in that situation for help, only to be watched to death before their very eyes.

And Holly had never asked for help. I don't remember her doing it after either. She does shit on her own. The agony, the pain, and oh boy the TRUST, for her to do that.

Its painful.

Yes, Artemis in fact didn't let holly die, but she is to forever have nightmares about that moment. And in her dreams, Artemis does indeed only care enough to glance her way briefly.

If you could be anyone in cemetery mary who would you be? Also I live your content🥰🥰🥰

Mary. Again.

I love her

I already relate to her alot

SPOILERS, DRUG, AND DEATH MENTIONS

3. All the other characters dont have great lives (Reginalds a serial killer, Crowven and Twyla have gangs, Theo dies, Zapara has a drug issue, etc) I think Marys life has the best circumstances of them all. Especially in the true end.