All Members, Murder HC

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im a simple girl. i have mental illness. i fantasize about being brutally murdered. is this problematic? 1000% yes. am i going to get canceled for this? 1000% yes. Have I been posting on borrowed time since that little caesars post? again, 1000% yes. Here's this anyways.

TW: murder, blood, gore, manipulation (Papa II, Papa III), stalking (copia), domestic abuse (Papa III), substance and drug abuse (Papa II), Suicide (Papa II and Dew), Sex crimes - all consensual (Dew) these are about how they would murder you so im sure you can imagine the types of bad things it will entail.

Papa I: For him, it's a fit of emotion that drives him to kill. One thing piles on top of the next, frustration turns to anger, anger turns to rage. He doesn't mean to hurt people, but when he gets so worked up, theres nothing that can stop him. All he can see is red until he's snapped back into reality and sees the red staining his hands and his favorite robe. With you, all you had to do was walk into his office after a few bads days in a row, more bad news in tow, and that's all it took. He loses his temper on you before your brain can even register that you should run. Before you can even scream. He's not particularly a weapon guy, he's more likely to choke you to death or anything he can do with his hands. If he feels so inclined, he'll grab the nearest solid object to crush you with. He feels remorse, in the end, but still covers it up and hushes the room when they speak about your disappearance. Decently classic case of homicide - its usually someone you know, crime of passion, unplanned.

Papa II: This one hurt me very deeply to write. His case was classic, when he was a kid. Everyone says that when an adult loses it, you could tell from the time they were a kid that they had cracks - too abnormal, or too perfect. Papa had odd behavior but Nihil never had him tested or even looked at for anything because his ego got in the way, and nothing could possibly be wrong with his son. And nothing was really wrong with him. Something just wasn't right. He felt things strongly: love, hate, depression, elation, anxieties. Sometimes it was too strong for him to cope. Sometimes he would turn to things that would help him deal with the emotional rollercoaster he couldn't get off of. Other people just got on with him. He started smoking weed in his twenties. That wasn't enough. He started drinking heavily at 25. By thirty that wasn't enough either. Stronger, more potent vices were what he needed. Cocaine. Heroin. Anything to make him feel okay - anything to make him feel. And you, you were the light of his life. The only good thing he'd ever known. You were the only person he had met who could keep up with him, but keep him safe at the same time. But eventually you got swept up in the parties and drugs and drinking too. Lost more control as the months and years passed. And one night he thought you were pussing out. Not being fun. That you were being boring and killing his mood. He pushed you until you did more lines, and kept pushing you and pushing you until your nose began to bleed. But he was so gone he didn't realize. He pushed you and you accepted it because it was the first time you had ever truly been afraid of him. When you overdosed and died on the couch in the living room of your shared apartment, Papa had already passed out in the bedroom. It was three days before he sobered up enough to wake, and when he found you, he called the police and said there'd been a murder. But he knew what happened. He knew what he did. Cocaine has a funny way of making things stick like that. He hung up the phone, and before the police could arrive, took his own life the same way he took yours.

Papa III: In the beginning, he has a silly little crush. He steals glances your way. He brushes up against you and makes you blush. As you two talk more, he falls deeper. You two become a couple, an item. You tell each other you love them. Years could pass. You move in together. You don't notice any cracks in him, but he sees them in the relationship. He saw you talking to the new guy at work today. What's that, you had lunch with him? That's interesting. He sees the way you look at the barista when he says your name, and hands you your coffee. You say he makes it the best. He sees the way your friends look at him. He goes through your phone once, when you're sleeping, and doesn't find anything. he kicks himself for months about invading your privacy and promises himself that he's going to stop digging. But he can't tear himself away. When youre in the other room, he'll go through your purse. The next time he sees you smile at another man in passing, when you get home he confronts you. you say he's being crazy. he says your crazy for cheating on him. he just loves you. cant you see? he loves you. when he finally chains you to the radiator in the bedroom so you won't leave him, you're shocked at how a man you once loved could be this way. When he finally kills you he's begging you, with his hands around your throat, to understand that he's not a bad person. He's not a bad person. He's not a bad person. He's not a bad person.

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