#death tw

[b0nez4may0r]

american highschools suck dude why do I have to be in constant fear of dying or being raped or both

[pantheonsays]

As the clock strikes midnight, the Atlantic coastline is set ablaze with bursts of red, blue, and white fireworks, their reflections dancing across the water; without warning, every phone screen lights up with the same unexpected message.

@selinagha, you thought a name change and a new city could bury your old life. Before the heels and the headlines, there was a show. You may not remember it because it was canceled prematurely after its leading actress didn't wake up one morning. The official story: a tragedy, Deniz all alone, no one around to help. Except someone was around. We'd like to introduce you to the woman who finally landed her first lead role; in a tragedy. The same one that supplied the party favors that inevitably led to Deniz's death. Selin, you built something new out of the wreckage of that night: a new name, a new city, a new continent. Impressive, really. But reinvention isn't the same as absence, and we know the difference even when you've spent years pretending not to. Was it guilt? You couldn't have been naive enough to think they'd give you the lead role if the actual one was out of the way, were you? You had one job, Selin. Now everyone gets to have one question: what else would you lie and kill for? -P

[endaether]

Clive is the type of protective where if he sees your character willingly doing something detrimental to their health (i.e. smoking, not eating well, self-destructive behaviour), he will visibly disapprove but won't stop them. Unless it's seriously life-threatening, but even then, it depends. He is a huge advocate for free will / making your own path, as long as it doesn't cause harm to others.

... aka Aerith being aware of her life ending and choosing to go forward with it... Clive, with immense heartbreak, would stand with her. Does he support it? No. He would want her to fight until an unspecified end, but he won't stop her. [This is a tough one because he also advocates that fate is bs.. anyways I was thinking about this.]

[egoiudico]

I have talked about UBCS and HUNK before, and after mentioning Jake and his mom, as well, I'm afraid it's time to take my family khanjar again and point it at the board.

While Edonia is called 'Eastern Europe' it's a mish-mash of architecture and visuals that represent both the European and Asian sides of post USSR climate. Jake, much like yours truly, had a bad luck of being born during several civil wars, an energy crisis, multiple on-going ethnic cleansings on multiple borders, and child kidnappings, because god hates us.

I guess this can be considered a bit of a trauma dump, since it is personal (?) But I primarily want to explain what time and place RE's world is representing when they talk about the mercs Umbrella hired in the 90s to be used as cannon fodder, and what Jake's life was like. (Also, I promise I'm fine)

Before I go to depress you further, there will be images - nothing graphic but just people struggling and some military dickheads.

So, 90s for us in West and Central Asia were pretty fucking wild. We had no electricity, water, or heating a lot of the time. In fact, when I was in school, for most of my life, I would see electricity for a couple of hours in the evening and not every evening. I remember I was prepping for uni when we consistently had electricity. And I was one of the lucky ones who did. There are still people living in less populated areas that don't have access to water and electricity daily.

These are from Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Armenia; there were lines for everything. Bread, meat, gasoline - anything you needed to survive. And there was never enough for everyone. Especially not meat. In fact, sometimes people would bid on meat, by themselves or team up with someone and split it, pulling money together. Which is what is happening in the first image. Transport was overcrowded as fuck and even if you had a car, chances were you couldn't afford to fill it or get it serviced. Also, a bunch of dudes could just take it from you and no one would do anything about it. Happened to my dad, actually. But then those guys got shot in our car, so, WHOSE LAUGHING NOW. Well, not us, cause the cops didn't let us have the car back.

Water, you often had to get from outside, especially if you lived outside of a few big cities. That was my first big boy job and I was very proud of carrying my little metal kettle. :)

The metal monstrosities that were these heaters, killed many, many people, because they were shoddily made, often by locals who had no training, and leaving them overnight was considered extremely dangerous. They smelled awful, just to be extra assholish. I think everyone I had ever met had one of these at one points, nothing else really existed as an alternative for a while and due to aforementioned civil wars, hey, plenty of random metal lying about.

Don't these look familiar? Minus the B.O.W.s. But you know, there's always next time.

A lot of these dudes were volunteer fighters or mercs. People just kinda became mercs cause they had no other choice. Many even volunteered just for food security. Kids were kidnapped, both as soldiers and as brides. We weren't allowed to play out of sight of a designated adult watching us at all times when we were outside of home or school.

If you want to write characters from these areas and that era, as someone that lived through it, I 1000% encourage you to. You can ask me, you can look things up yourself and educate yourself. Funny enough, RE does a fairly good job at portraying vastly different mindsets of people who come from there backgrounds. Some of them are totally broken down by it, while others have become predatory in order to survive. I can honestly say I have met all of them, at some point.

[mrcyfall]

╰────── ( charlie rowe,  cismale,  he/him )  ⎯ layton “lay” blackwell has  been  a  resident  of  roseton  for  his whole life .  around  the  town ,  the  twenty-eight  year  old  residency doctor  has  been  given  the  nickname,  mr medic .  i  think  it's  because  they  are  empathetic ,  but  also  self destructive  . 

❝  last night — it’s hard to explain to you — last night i dreamed that i was dreaming. could it be like that after death? t͟h͟e͟ d͟r͟e͟a͟m͟ o͟f͟ a͟ d͟r͟e͟a͟m͟ o͟f͟ a͟ d͟r͟e͟a͟m͟ o͟f͟ a͟ d͟r͟e͟a͟m͟.  ❞

— 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁

full name  :  layton henry blackwell. aliases  :  lay, mr. blackwell, doc, mr. medic. gender & pronouns :  cismale, he / him. date of birth :  27 June, 1998. age  :  twenty-eight. orientation  :  pansexual. occupation  :  residency doctor @ roseton hospital. 

— 𝓅𝒽𝓎𝓈𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁

hair  :  brown. eyes  :  brown; seemingly golden in the sunlight. height  :  5'9. markings (  birthmarks,  tattoos,  scars,  etcs  )  :  he has a few tattoos he got in college such as a heartbeat line tattoo on his wrist ( which looks a little wonky after his wrist surgery ) , a small cluster of forget-me-nots on the side of his right rib cage, and two swallows on his back right shoulder. he also has a couple scars from his car accident; surgical scars on his left leg and right wrist, a thin scar through his eyebrow and on his chin. tinier white scars on his hands and a few on his arms. faceclaim : charlie rowe.

— 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓁

positive : kind, empathetic, gentle, ambitious, hard-working, loyal, passionate, studious, driven, helpful. negative : self-destructive, reckless, messy, workaholic, impulsive, guilt complex, melancholic, distant, tired. mbti :  infp. enneagram  :  type 2 ( the helper ) . alignment  :  neutral good. temperament  :  phlegmatic-melancholic. zodiac :  cancer. hobbies :  reading, listening to spotify, bicycling, puzzles, napping, doom-scrolling his phone ( when he actually knows where it is ), drugs drugs drugs, dancing, late night walks, collecting fancy watches, swimming, hiking. habits : mumbling to self, taps pens on desks, leaves lights on, forgets to take off gloves, will leave in the middle of a conversation, constantly loses his phone, always carries water, drugs drugs drugs. secret : has been stealing narcotics from roseton hospital; where he currently is working out his residency and is owned by his family.

— 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎

tw: child abuse, drug use, car accident, death.

A family legacy can be hard to live up to; especially in Layton's case. A son born into the Blackwell family there was only one path forward for him. His life seemingly decided by the time he took his first breath. Layton's childhood was full of studying, of trying-to-hard, strict schedules and suffocating rules. Father was merciless and Mother was picture perfect silence. His life was not his own, it was Father's to mold and shape for the legacy that was the Blackwell legacy. He would be a doctor like his father before him, and his father before, and his father before.

He grew up with constant pressure, perfectionism beat into him, disappointment dripping from every word. The Blackwell Manor was a lonely one, no love or even like found in any corner of the house. Days spent waiting for Father at the hospital; Roseton hospital that had been in the family for generations. Layton never lived up to Father's expectations most of the time and his siblings constantly fought and antagonized each other. Father was their keeper and he watched them and surveilled them, but they worked tirelessly to have him be proud.

Years of torment and hostility within his family but outside of it? He was quiet smiles and helpful gestures. He got along well with most people as he was people-pleaser but never let anyone get too close ( Father was always watching ). Through school he was in many different friend circles, many cliques, many activities and sports but there wasn't many people who actually knew Layton in Roseton.

It wasn't until college that Layton began to open up to those around him. Being so far from Father's watchful eye, the pressure eased just enough for him to breathe. The expectation of becoming a doctor and carrying on the family legacy never disappeared, but for the first time in his life, he felt somewhat free. He found lifelong friends, stayed up too late studying and laughing over cheap takeout, and discovered that becoming a doctor wasn't just his family legacy but also quietly became his own dream too.

All his efforts paid off once he graduated and started his residency. He felt proud of himself and his father congratulated him for his years of study and success but tried to convince him to come back home to Roseton to do his residency at their family hospital there. He would not be swayed; Layton loved the city and he was going to stay. And stay he did for around two years before getting into a car accident that derailed most of his plans and took the life of one of his friends.

He went back home to recover from the incident; broken leg, broken wrist and a few ribs. Months and months of rehab and pain-relieving drugs and having to live in the same house as his family again and the overbearing weight of grief. It was hell on Earth; and it didn't take long for Layton to begin abusing narcotics. It helped with the pain, helped numb his emotions, and even when he recovered he still couldn't stop. When he resumed his residency at Roseton hospital, it was only that much easier acquiring drugs. A little here, a little forgery there; and he found an easy access stash. Sooner or later his bad choices would catch up to him.

— 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓃𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

DARLING YOU’RE WITH ME FOREVER & ALWAYS                         The sound of footfalls over root and rock, they would tear through the woods and climb the tallest trees. Their laughter grew saplings, belly-aching and completely contagious. Friends till the end, they’d say, hearts connected like roots, deep and dense. Comfortable silences, shoulders to cry on, the tightest hugs. To these people, who for whatever reason, stay by our sides. 

                         WHO: closest friend ( 0 ) . 

OH IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE OR NOT?                          It used to be fun, used to be lovely, used to be giggles and sweet kisses and the gentlest of touches. They had something wonderful, but all things wither and die. A lingering gaze set elsewhere, an uncomfortable feeling of settling. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, or end up like it did. He tried, at first, but there sneaking suspicion of there being someone else always bubbled up. 

                         WHO: ex ( 0 ) .

I’D WEAR YOUR HEART OUT LIKE A SYMBOL                         Loneliness that creeps up like a monstrous beast, ready to drown you and rip you to shreds. Hearts that scream for someone to love them, to hold them, to whisper affections, anything. Hands that reach out for another, in hopes that this beast of intense and dark feelings could be abated if just for another night. Keep them at bay, our tattered and lonely hearts. 

                            WHO: booty call ( 0 ) .

WE GOT SOME BRAND NEW TABLES ALL GLASS AND ITS FOUR FEET WIDE BUT ITS A MUST TO GET US TEN FEET HIGH                         Weekends of bad ideas and time misremembered. Smoke filling a room, coughing and hacking and laughing. The “just one more” and the “chug, chug, chug!” ringing off the walls. Never sober, stumbling into each other, leaving the world behind. Nothing matters except the high, the buzz, the black out. Forget anything else, just take another hit. 

                            WHO: bad influence ( 0 ) . 

OTHER IDEAS : co-workers, rivals, patients, first love, a crush, someone who is suspicious of him still using perhaps, other familial bonds, etc, etc, etc.

*these are just some ideas, i am always up to plot for any type of connection for layton!*

[kdramamilfs]

went onto my old middle/highschool's homepage to look what theyd written about a former teacher of mine who died recently and was immediately met with another, different obituary 🫩

[probablealiens]

general information.

full name judah isaac fisher

nicknames fish / little fish / jude / judy

age 32

date of birth november 22nd

place of birth roswell, new mexico

zodiac scorpio-sagittarius cusp sun - taurus moon - aries rising

gender cis man

nationality american

religion reform judaism / casually faithful, observes major holidays

orientation bisexual

physical attributes.

face claim aaron taylor johnson

height 5’11

weight 184 lbs

build athletic

exercise habits at the gym four or five days a week

allergies hay fever / red wine

hair color dark brown

hairstyle long and curly until it's too much and he chops it short

eye color blue

glasses/contacts twenty-twenty vision, baby

dominant hand right

tattoos several on his arms, chest, and back

scars too many to count, most from doing something stupid

piercings ears - multiple, self pierced + tongue + a secret third thing

jewelry/accessories tree of life necklace

background information.

hometown roswell, new mexico

current residence intercept, new mexico

spoken languages english / hebrew

driver’s license yes

occupation ride technician at astroland / mechanic at orion's garage

familial information.

relationship status it's complicated with dixie duvall

mother sylvia fisher

father mark fisher

siblings jonah fisher ( twin, older by seven minutes )

other javier muñoz ( honorary fisher triplet )

children none

pets none

personality.

positive traits charismatic + persuasive + logical + hardworking + smart

negative traits cocksure + obtrusive + manipulative + argumentative + crude

likes carhartt coveralls + a cold beer and a joint after work + a shady afternoon nap + the smell of gasoline

dislikes egotism ( unless it's his own ) + head highs + science fiction + performative kindness

moral alignment chaotic neutral

mbti estp

background.

TRIGGER WARNING : pregnancy; childbirth; death

When Sylvia and Mark Fisher discovered that they were expecting twins, it was an unanticipated but wholly welcome surprise. They were in love, after all, and Sylvia was thrilled at the thought of settling into their cozy little home in Roswell and putting down roots, building a family, even if the thought of twins did come as a shock to her unsuspecting husband. He quickly acclimated to the idea, but his sense of security was ripped from beneath his feet just as swiftly when a tragic complication during the cesarean left Mark a widow and a single father of two infant boys, Jonah and Judah. Long hours at the fire station and a dedication to his community meant that Mark relied heavily on his sister in Intercept to help raise his sons, frequently looking after them alongside her own brood of children. They didn’t necessarily have a bad childhood; Judah wasn’t ignorant enough to be blind to the fact that they had more than many, able to boast a father that tried to raise them right, a handful of close family, and a consistent roof over their heads. It never stopped them from staying out of trouble, but it was enough to keep them in check. 

Although he’d never felt in any way that he had to compete with his twin, it was almost as if being the younger of the two—even if only by seven minutes—had instilled in Judah an innate drive to compensate. Or maybe that was just growing up in a house with so many heads between them and his cousins that it became easy to slip through the cracks. Their father did their best to raise him, but Judah still hungered for attention from the start. This inherent yearning encouraged his mind and his mouth in equal part as he grew up, carving out a sharp wit and holding his tongue—he caught the attention and accolades of his teachers when he was young, even if he did grow into something more of a beacon for wasted potential by the time he reached high school. A warning.

Whether he had the aptitude for it or not, he was never meant to succeed within the confines of conventional higher education. The world had bigger plans for the Fisher twins, Judah was convinced of it, even if he didn’t know for certain the specifics when he was burning college acceptance letters over the sink and workshopping possible futures involving the pair of them from the counter of their aunt’s kitchen. They’d figure it out. For a while, Judah was convinced that his future involved The Fishery—the junkyard in town that his uncle owned. One day it would be theirs—his uncle told him so, promised when he was just a boy—and he’d turn it into a proper garage, something that could rival Orion’s if they really wanted it to. But then the Vipers moved into Intercept, and though his uncle might have been retired from the MC in his older age, once you’re in, you never really hang up your cut. They swooped in when his uncle got sick like vultures at the first whiff of carrion. The Fishers didn’t so much as see the keys to the junkyard that carried their name. 

He is good with cars, though. He’d better be—he’s been working with them since he was old enough to hold a wrench. Judah always had a knack for mechanics and engineering; he’s smart, even if you’d never guess it to look at him. It wasn’t difficult to secure a gig at the garage. No, what was difficult was trying to figure out how to live on what he made there alone. He and Jonah live together so the bills weren’t awful, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stay shit broke forever. Folks weren’t coming through Intercept like they used to, and it seemed only locals—several of whom already knew how to do their own repairs to save money—were coming through to get work done. His brother already had a job at Astroland to supplement the tattoo shop he was running out of the basement of their uncle’s old place and to help fund his zine, so it only seemed logical for Judah to snag a job there, too. His knowledge of cars translated well to ride mechanics, and he quickly landed a position at the park.

Judah knows he should be satisfied. He’s got two reliable jobs that pay decent enough that he’s never got to worry about struggling from check to check, he and his brother have a roof over their heads that belongs to them, and there’s still plenty of good in his life to counteract all the bullshit he puts up with on a daily basis. But he’s not satisfied. He still wants the Fishery back, even if he knows he’d probably die trying. He knows better than to pick a war with a gang as a solitary man—even if he does think Jonah would back him up—but if any of those Viper assholes step too close or start running their mouths around him? It’s on sight.