#Characterdeath

[ironpersondreamgoop]

What Was I Made For? (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/364744075-what-was-i-made-for?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=KittyCatalyst2021  Alastor stood at the precipice, where reality seemed to fracture and the very essence of Hell itself was laid bare before him. The void gaped-a monstrous maw of oblivion that defied comprehension. It was the thing of whispers in the dark corners of taverns, where even the hardened sinners dared not speak its name with anything but reverence and dread. It was a chasm so profound, so impossibly vast, that it drank in the light and substance around it, rendering the world pallid and insubstantial by comparison. Here was the end of all ends, the finality reserved for those who perished yet again within the infernal depths. To know of its existence was one matter; to witness its unyielding hunger was an affliction on the soul.

#abuse #alastor #angeldust #asexualscanhavehealthysexualrelationships #axsexual #blood #characterdeath #charlastor #drugs #evil #good #gore #heaven #hell #horror #huskerdust #notaromantic #phycological #pregnancy #radiodemon #religion #romance #rootofallevil #trauma #violence #books #wattpad #amwriting

[ereri-fics]

Hi, I lost a fic and can't seem to find it, so I was wondering if you could help me out.

It's set in the Underground. Eren's living in a house and growing a bunch of plants. Levi's trying to lose the people chasing after him when he either gets injured in the process, or is already injured prior to the chase, and crashes down onto one of Eren's flower patches. And Eren doesn't give him his name until later on in the fic after he helped him. (First, an alias, and then I think his real name some time after.)

Repeating History by RosyLilac

Levi had always been a sucker for those gem-like eyes. Those eyes beseeched him to do their bidding; from smuggling literal horseshit for fertilizing his precious garden, to adopting three kids and a teenager without Levi putting the ring on him let alone growing the balls to confess yet ("It's been 18 years, Levi," Farlan reminded him, the long-suffering witness). And the effect didn’t lessen when those eyes were as big as double his head and the owner now a fifteen meter of bone-white, bare-assed, hammer-swinging juggernaut currently begging to be allowed to cross the sodding ocean to meet up with his psycho older nephew and conduct a peace summit with delegations from all over the world.

a.k.a How Eren Jaeger channeled Ymir Fritz, got thrown backward in time, stuffed himself into his aunt’s dead body while stealing a titan, and proceed to save (almost) everybody’s life. And somehow, no matter how many things Eren redid right, Levi still ended up suffering from dealing with his antics. [MAJOR SPOILERS FROM THE ANIME AND MANGA UP TO THE LATEST CHAPTER]

Warnings: violence, minor character death, amputation.

R.

#ereri #riren #canondivergence #timetravel #transeren #violence #characterdeath #ftol #over250 #ongoing #multichapter #childhoodfriends #pining

[fierypen37]

moodboard by @libradoodle1​

#daenerys targaryen #jon snow #jonerys fic #vampire!Dany #bartender!Jon #angst #no really angst #characterdeath

[simiansmoke]

[ SACRIFICE ]

Settling Dust Prompts

[ SACRIFICE ]:     knowing that the circumstances only allow one of them to survive, the sender sacrifices their life in order to guarantee the receiver’s survival and safety.

----------

It was apparent to both Mario and DK that Bowser decorated with too much lava. The two of them were like kids playing floor is lava - but for real this time, hopping between blocks and powerups to proceed. Despite the danger, there was a relatively jovial mood between them as one could not pass up the opportunity to 1UP one another with each display of parkour growing ever fancier.

He had been laughing moments earlier before they reached what looked like a fun maze of sorts built of blocks that didn't even require you to jump between them. Seemed like the dungeon decorator ran out of ideas or something.

"Bet I pick the right path first ~ "Mario boasted, getting into a starting position.

"Uh-huh ~ BET YOU DON'T!" And with that DK stole the right path right away, galloping along it quickly with a grin as Mario complained behind him and took the other route.

Interestingly enough...the blocks began to explode one by one some time after they'd been touched. DK didn't notice it quite at first because he'd been racing along full speed ahead, but when he slowed down to check over his shoulder and see how the competition was going, he noticed all the blocks behind him were gone. Well...no going back now!

The routes criss-crossed each other a number of times - some with Mario overhead, and some with him below. Each time they passed one another, each had something snarky to impart about the other's progress so far.

DK could see the edge of the lava pit ahead of him, but the sudden drop-off from his route was abrupt. He had to grab the side of the block and hoist himself back up when he almost ran full force into the air. A quick glance around the now single block showed he was just above a small stretch of block road that connected to exit platform. One hop down and he'd be good! Just then Mario zoomed around the corner of the path, and laughed as he noticed DK wiggling in place to get ready and hop down to his level. Guess he'd gotten the right path all along...

As DK joined him on the lower level, the block they were both on decided it didn't want to wait to crumble and instead - under the weight of two, disintegrated instantly. "Ack!" DK was quick to grab the side of the unbroken road and pull himself up and was relieved to see that Mario had done the same to the other side. Seemed the blocks had a timer for singles only. "Hey!" He gestured for Mario to jump over to him. "Hurry up, you already touched that one and-"

Why was Mario just...standing there? His gaze was pinned to the little bit of road left that would lead them onto stable land, but...if the first block they touched together instantly sent them down, then the one DK wanted Mario to jump to would as well, and without the luxury of the yet to split block behind them...only one of them would have the chance of pulling themselves up to the other block. Only one of them could, actually. If they held on together, they'd both drop into the pit.

"Mario!?" DK yelled louder this time, kneading his knuckles against the block anxiously as the one beneath Mario splintered and cracked. "C'mon, you can make that jump!"

"No..." Mario sighed, giving DK a smile. They'd had a fun run-through, but. "I picked the wrong side of the block to climb. It's game-over for me."

"We can make it work-cmon! I'll...I'll get you up on the side here and you can run it instead. It was your path! Mine was the dead-end!" He doesn't want to move, but his instincts tell him to back up as he feels the block under him rumbling.

"You're gonna do fine. Go and get'im- for me."

The block breaks. Player 2 becomes Player 1.

#//ofc you'd do this to me #//i won't be oK #death #characterdeath #alittledetermined #donkey kong #Mario #long post

[arieshasbrainrot57]

How more redacted bois would react if their listener died

Caelum:

- tries to stay cheerful for gavin and the others - works his hardest to keep everyone else feeling good and to take care of them - dodges the subject whenever anyone brings up how he's feeling - it gets to a point where when gavin asks him how he's doing again he just breaks down and everything comes pouring out - he can barely get any words out around all the sobs wracking his body - after the sobbing starts to fade, all he can do is curl into gavin's arms and whimper freelancer's name over and over again

- after that gavin keeps a close eye on him and comforts him whenever he needs

- he gives caelum one of the freelancer's hoodies and caelum refuses to take it off ever

Milo:

- comes home and breaks down - his days feel much heavier and harder to get through without sweetheart there - he got so used to them being there every day that when they're not, everything feels wrong - aggro follows him around the house all the time, since he can tell something's wrong - sometimes aggro will curl up on sweetheart's side of the bed and meow, as if he's asking where they are - whenever he does that milo just curls up next to him and cries

Elliot:

- spends most of his time asleep - stays at home a lot with all the curtains drawn - he tries to make a fake sunshine in his dreams but he always get upset and wakes up, since its just not the real them - when he wakes up he breaks down and wonders why they can't just still be there with him - he gets a dog when one of his friend suggests it and it helps him feel a little better - walking it helps him get out of the house

Avior:

- depends whether starlight dies after they get out of their own personal hell or not - if they're still trapped there, avior becomes almost kind of dissasociated, barely registering whats going on and just going through the motions - now that he's completely alone, everything feels like a dream - blames himself - spends his nights thinking of all the ways he could have prevented their death instead of sleeping

- if it happens after they get out, avior stops spending his time around humans, hardly even bothering to hide the fact that he's a demon - humans and the way they are just reminds him of starlight and he can't deal with it

Guy:

- takes a lot of vent showers - struggles with seeing couples around town bc all he can think about is honey - he wishes that he could be like them again and have honey with him - he feels sick whenever he thinks how lonely he feels - he goes on a lot of dates, hoping to find someone to fill the hole, only to go home and break down bc he feels guilty, like he's betraying honey

#redactedasmr #redactedverse #angst #characterdeath #grief #redacted caelum #redacted guy #redacted avior #redacted elliot #redacted milo

[justaltruix227]

||Not Your Fault - c!Philza & c!Wilbur||

Song: Little Lion Man - Mumford and Sons

Fandom: DSMP

[Philza joined the game]

he knew something was wrong, already knowing the downfall of the festival was to happen. He had to come online. However the room covered in writing was not what he was expecting. 

Standing cross-armed at the entrance, he leaned on the side of the wall, facing the back of his son. "Weep for yourself, my man you'll never be what is in your heart." He takes a step forward as Wilbur's hand grasped the top of the chair in front of him. "Weep, little lion man - You're not as brave as you were at the start." His hand firmly planting itself on the brunettes shoulder, he gazes into Wilbur's eyes. "Rate yourself and rake yourself - Take all the courage you have left." He sighs, knowing its useless, his son couldn't been seen in his eyes. 

He glances around at all the writing on the wall, wondering how long it took for him to write it all "And waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head." He looks at the button. 

The button...

"But it was not your fault but mine" He screamed, clinging onto his sons blood stained shirt.

"And it was your heart on the line." Wilburs lifeless eyes seemed to stick on Philza as he layed there. Head being held up by the blondes shaking hands. 

"I really fucked it up this time." The bloodied diamond sword laid next to them, as is if its done what it was made to do it now looked useless. "Didn't I, my dear?" The pain he felt physically could not comprehend the mental damage, as his now broken wings clutched to the lifeless body. 

"Didn't I, my-" Crows all around flocked together and flew across the sky, the l'manburg flag burned up and torn. 

Tremble for yourself, my man - You know that you have seen this all before. He stands there holding a bouquet of flowers as he remembers Wilbur and Techno growing up.

Tremble, little lion man there Wilbur was, on the grass with Technos cardboard sword at his throat. 

You'll never settle any of your scores Techno always seemed to win in their fights.

Your grace is wasted in your face as Techno offers Wilbur a hand up.

Your boldness stands alone among the wreck he gets up by himself instead.

Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck with a proud look on his face, taking that as a small victory. Wilbur smiles. As Tears formed, Philza closed his eyes. 

"But it was not your fault but mine," the two kids began to ran, Wilbur in the lead as they began to fade. 

"And it was your heart on the line," tears lead into a full sob as he could still hear his sons laughter.

"I really fucked it up this time," he began to shake, his wings folded in on themselves as he lowered down to place the bouquet. 

"Didn't I, my dear?" 'Wilbur - Friend - Brother - Son' the bouquets set down on the new gravestone."But it was not your fault but mine," a hand grasped the shaking blonde. 

"And it was your heart on the line." Techno slowly turning Philza so he was facing him

"I really fucked it up this time." Philza rested his head on the pig hybrids chest, hand clutching the tallers cape. 

"Didn't I, my dear?" He cried out, as tears began to soak into the pigs cape

"Didn't I, my dear." 

#c!philza #c!wilbur #dsmp #dsmplore #wilbur #philza #technoblade #sad #characterdeath #altf4work

[evangeline4003]

The Beast Under the House - Part 5 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1357462290-the-beast-under-the-house-part-5?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=evangeline40003&wp_originator=pQ1HWFM3e9oyVa%2FsHYxSwXGRJLzjFKaUgoq7BTS2T3%2FnZJ%2B%2BuVHWTlUrkuLppUqkrhSOibormFKc%2BYV1wPeJmNN8dKW%2Bj9vM59b6lOugkd6tMGS0LE97mkOJNkoPAvS4 Written by: Danni Lynn Commissioned by: Zeroth17 (on DeviantArt) Word Count: 8,500 words When a hired contractor working on preparing a mansion to go on the market finds a strange door in the basement, everything he knew about the house, job, and situation are turned upside down. Can he handle the strange discovery downstairs, or should he be more worried about the infestation of fur beetles in the kitchen? With only a few days until the open house, can he handle the stress and get everything done in time? This story is inspired by the Cellar Story episode in Are You Afraid of the Dark. Rating: Rated PG-13 for violence, scary moments, character death, and language. Nothing explicit.

#areyouafraidofthedark #characterdeath #creepyhouse #creepypasta #darkthemes #death #fear #haunted #helpless #horrifying #horror #horrorstories #horrorstory #isolation #oldhouse #scary #scarystories #scarystory #supernatural #survival #suspense #thriller #thrillerhorror #thrillerstory #trapped #books #wattpad #amreading

[willyoustillloveme1]

So I’ve been trying to write a book lol

I don’t really have an idea for the plot but I do know that both the main characters will *slit neck hand motion*

And it won’t be in the end

And yeah

Any ideas ?

#writing #characterdeath #idontknowhatimdoinginlife #plotcreation #fictionalworlds #theybothdieinthend

[saramackenzie1982]

And there are many worlds inside an author. 😊 That's it for today. I'm fried from a day at the beach. #WriterWorld #ManyWorlds #VictorHugo #TryMe #IllWriteYouInABook #CharacterDeath #HintHint #InsideOfMe #LocalAuthor #NewBritain https://www.instagram.com/p/ChTMSTasKgK/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#writerworld #manyworlds #victorhugo #tryme #illwriteyouinabook #characterdeath #hinthint #insideofme #localauthor #newbritain

[suguruslut]

Been posting DC/TEEN TITAN edits on TikTok for a few weeks now, keep forgetting to upload them anywhere else...here's some angsty Dick Grayson/Batfam 😭

#richard grayson #nightwing #batfam #bruce wayne #nightwing edit #richard grayson edit #batfamily #batfam edit #angst #batfam angst #hope #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #dc comics #dc universe #character death #song edit #batman #batman comics #teen titans #teen titan edits

[brunchable]

Devotion or Delusion (Part 1) || Doctor Strange x Reader

Word count: 3.4K WARNINGS: DS:MoM and Endgame References. HeavyAngst. CharacterDeath, Loss/Grief. A/N: First of all, sorry but I just love Angst so much, I can't get enough of it so I had to get this out of my head. I hope you guys enjoy <3 I still need to make a tag list (I'm still a tumblr noob) Please let me know if you want to be tagged every time I post a story! ^_^ ***Strictly do not: claim, repost, copy, translate my stories anywhere else***

Tags: @simp4fictional @praetorrara @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @elicheel @vintageroses10 @sillyfreakfanparty @sherlux @padmesgreene @brucewaynescock @peachyrogerss @wow-life-love4 @geeky-politics-46 @hueanhdang @graniairish @lucywrites02 I hope you guys don't mind me tagging ya'll.

In partial darkness, you lay on the dirt and rubble trying to stay conscious as much as possible. The air was thick with dust, yet it wasn't clear whether the dust was causing your eyesight to blur or if it was actually your vision that’s affected. Despite the fact that Barton was in front of you, you couldn't make out where the person was even though you could hear a muffled voice calling your name. Because of your ringing ears, Clint's voice was difficult to hear; he was cautious about shaking you and was trying to keep you awake, but clearly, because of the concussion you sustained to the back of your head, you were seeing stars. Shortly after Banner snapped his fingers to restore everyone to life, Thanos' ship came from the past and blasted the Avengers compound. The building got completely blown to bits, and you are one of the people who suffered in the aftermath of it.

In the midst of attempts to contact the rest of the team, Barton repeatedly raised his voice, dread and desperation evident in his tone, asking, "Can anyone copy? (Y/N)'s in critical condition, she needs medical assistance NOW." He watched your vitals like a hawk to make sure you're still breathing, your neck still pulsating. Despite searching for a way out multiple times, Barton was unable to find one, so he had no choice but to blast through the cement. Before deciding where he would shoot the explosive arrows, Barton surveyed the area thoroughly to determine the best distance from which to fire them.

“Come on kid, stay with us please, we just got everybody back!” Clint kept on talking to you still, but in the end he ended up yelling out of distress and a desperate effort to keep you alive as long as possible.

He has already lost someone very dear to him and could not do anything about it; and he doesn't know how he would deal with losing another friend on the same day, especially when you've still got a chance to live.

He carefully picked you up from the ground, your body partially limp from your injuries; he immobilised your head to prevent further injury that may cause paralysis. Barton placed you undercover before he blasts a way out of the rubble. He grabbed one of his explosive arrows, gently connecting the arrow to its nocking points, his muscles shaking from fatigue as he pulled the bowstring back while he aimed at the safest place to shoot. Even when under pressure, Clint's skills did not betray him, he quickly dropped down and shielded you with his body as cement flew from all directions.

As soon as you heard another explosion, you felt that suddenly your surroundings were becoming brighter. You felt yourself being lifted off the ground once more by Clint, you could guess that he was shouting for help as both of you emerged from the ground. 

The expression in your eyes looked empty as you stared towards the darkened skies which were tainted orange by the fires that burned the earth. Ashes danced in the air as they rained down towards the area, which had once been a place of peace but now was turned into a battlefield. 

Pepper who was in her armoured suit landed gracefully a few metres away from Clint who was looking hopeless with your upper body cradled in his arms. Pepper urgently ran towards the both of you. Concern filled her eyes seeing the severity of your injuries, "F.R.I.D.A.Y, scan (Y/N)'s vitals please." 

"Scanning," The A.I. scanned your through her helmet, "Fortunately no major damage to her spinal cords but she is suffering traumatic brain injury, oxygen saturation dropping, blood pressure and heart rate dropping at an alarming rate, sending S.U.M.A (Stark Urgent Medical Assistant) to your location, ETA approximately five minutes." The A.I. spoke with Pepper, as both her and Clint comforted and reassured each other through their eyes.

Despite all the chaos and destruction going on around you, you were feeling calm and your muscles were relaxed as though you were floating on a calm ocean. Memories that you held close to your heart flashes before your eyes, it felt like a compilation film your brain had prepared for this moment, the moment where your life was slipping away— then all faded to black just like every beginning.

•••

The reason why Stephen asked Wong, "Is that everyone?" After they exited through the portal, was because he couldn’t find you. He was aware that they've been gone for five years, but to them it only felt like five seconds. He was expecting to fight alongside you, it would've been the fight of your lives, he expected you to brag about your kill count to prove that you were the better sorcerer— what he didn’t expect was this; you in an ICU bed, unconscious, intubated and your life depending on a machine.

Trying so very hard not to give in to his frustration, Stephen demanded, "Tell me what they've done to her." His voice was trembling in discontent, and he was trying so hard not to raise his voice either.

Christine and Stephen were having this conversation which felt like a dejavu. He did not want you to hear him pressuring her for information, so he went out into the hallway with them. 

"Stephen, you are not her next of kin, I can't just disclose confidential information about the patient," Christine explained in a calm voice, "You're a doctor, you know this."

Suddenly Stephen groans, losing just a little more of his patience, "She has no next of kin Christine, just in case you have forgotten. She works with me. So I'm asking, as a friend, can you tell me what they did to her?" His voice quaked in the air. 

It was evident by his appearance, the man had been deprived of sleep for a few nights, which may be affecting his ability to reason. With each passing day, his bloodshot eyes became more obvious, and the circles under his eyes became more prominently darker. 

Christine stared at him as she contemplated and began feeling sorry for him, "By the time she arrived here, she had severe intracranial hypertension and decreased cerebral perfusion. They had to perform an emergency decompressive craniectomy, you know how the rest goes."

"Christ..." he muttered, squeezing the bridge of his nose, profanely dismissing their intervention as laughable, "I usually recommend craniectomy as a last resort, couldn't they punch a hole in her skull before, I don’t know? taking large chunks out?!" He said sarcastically, unable to contain his emotions this time and raised his voice, agitated.

The woman sighed deeply, her sentiments changing towards Stephen while his arrogant side was grinding the gears in his mind, "This is why I didn’t want to tell you Stephen, because you always think you could've done better." 

"I COULD... have done better." Stephen kept his voice raised till Christine flinched at his words, then he was forced to lower the volume of his voice, "I don't think, I can do better. I know, I could have done better." His voice was stiff as he pronounced the word 'better', his facial muscles twitching. 

She snapped, pressing her lips together and rolling her eyes inward, "I believe the treating team did the best they could under the pressure of the situation. Why can't you just be thankful she is still alive?" She asked.

As Stephen pointed out to you through the window, he let out a dry laugh, "You call that living?" He asked Christine.

The woman shook her head, no way would she be able to make her way past this man's thick skull, "You answer that question yourself Stephen, because nothing in the world will ever be good enough for you-"

"She fucking was!" Stephen exploded from exasperation, "And she still is, I can't lose her now." Suddenly, he was overcome with tears as he finally confessed his inner feelings. As soon as those tears spilled, he was able to wipe them off and suppress them as quickly as he had let them out. 

"Then you’re going to have to allow us to do our jobs and don't interfere." Christine calmly, yet firmly insisted on Stephen.

•••

The Sanctum felt cold and dark without your presence, so quiet that Stephen could almost hear the memories of you bothering him with questions about certain spells as you advanced with your magic. 

You were born for the mystic arts and you always bragged about it to Stephen, threatening him to take the title of Sorcerer Supreme. 

You tripped Stephen onto the ground and while he tried to get up, you leapt into the air, creating an illusion of steps to rise higher and fly through the air, landing a flying punch on Stephen's cheek. "Remember the first rule? Never underestimate your enemy?" You asked Stephen when you had his arm in a twist while your knees pinned him down, facing the ground.

“I don’t know who taught you how to fight but there usually isn’t this much talking.” Stephen retorted and headbutted your chin before effortlessly flipping you over on top of his body and locking you in a joint-lock; his legs around your waist, and his arms holding your head in a choke hold, “If you don’t want to be underestimated then start by practising strengthening your grip.”

You clenched your jaw around his strong arms, which were close to cutting off your air supply, you hit his arm as a sign of surrender, and he let go instantly, leaving you gasping for breath and coughing for air. You clutched onto your chest and glowered at him as he walked around you, “What the hell Strange? Are you trying to kill me?” It was your intention to shout, but the words came out raspy.

“Trying to give you a realistic lesson was all I was doing.” Stephen shrugged and tilted his head mockingly, still watching you catch your breath, “Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t you say you’d rather have me choke you than have Wong teach you magic?”

‘Oh he heard that?’ You thought to yourself and turned your gaze away from him, biting the inside of your cheek in an effort to hide your embarrassed smile. As Stephen noticed your cheeks turning red he became aware that you were expressing a different meaning.

Stephen blinks awkwardly, “Ah...” He let out a breathy laugh in an effort to release the weird tension in the air.

The feeling of being extremely flustered made it difficult for you to stand up to your feet. The situation made you feel so embarrassed that you wished the ground would just eat you up and make you disappear. After such an effort, you finally stood your ground, "I guess my training is over, so I plan to leave now." You said almost robotically, your figure turning around stiffly before bolting away.

This particular memory of you made Stephen chuckle, it was so obvious to him that you liked him even though you tried so hard to lie to him about it. Deep inside he knew he felt the same way about you but never acted on it because he was scared of a lot of things; scared of losing something he can’t replace. Now, he regrets not making a move on you when he should have, his mood turning bitter and sour the more he thinks about the matter. 

•••

4 days later.

It was four in the morning and Stephen sat near your bed, his upper body lying at the edge of it, waiting for you to squeeze his hand that never left yours. Even though he wasn't supposed to be there, who could stop him when he was so easily capable of opening a portal to you? He would sneak into your room every night to sit by your side and catch up on the hours he had missed being with you over the last five years.

During the course of the morning rounds, a nurse came in to see you and was startled by Stephen’s silhouette. Stephen had fallen asleep, clinging onto your hand as he lay at the edge of your bed. The staff member didn't even question how your visitor was able to enter, knowing that you were an Avenger. She quietly did her morning rounds before leaving the man to be alone with you in the room again. 

Stephen woke up when he heard the sounds of the door sliding closed just before the nurse left the room. He immediately jumped up when he realised he had fallen asleep, and rubbed his puffy tired eyes. His initial hopes that he would wake up to you having regained consciousness was crushed. He glanced at the monitor displaying your vital signs and was relieved that everything was at least somewhat stable.

From behind Strange, a portal appeared, and Wong, who was now the Sorcerer Supreme, appeared from Kamar-Taj. Stephen took a quick glance at his friend, but he didn't say a word to him. On the bench by the window, Wong sat contemplatively, looking at the ground as he quietly gathers the words to say from his mind, his heart breaking for you, one of the most talented sorcerers. 

“In spite of searching in the astral plane, I was unable to find her.” Stephen muttered in a hoarse voice after having just gotten up from his sleep. Wong remained quiet, his eyes stuck to the ground. Stephen snapped his head towards Wong, anticipating him to say something, however, Wong didn't.

Wong glanced at Stephen who looked at him with wary eyes, “Perhaps her soul never left her body.” Wong finally spoke.

"Perhaps." Stephen repeated, his attention now once again focused on you, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand, “But that’s not all there is, is there?” Stephen asked, noticing that Wong seems to know something he does not know. 

Suddenly Wong's eyeline glistened with salty water as he found it extremely difficult to find the words to say what was in his mind; what he and Christine discussed a few hours before over the phone. 

After being silent for a longer period of time than he'd like, Stephen looked at Wong again. Wong's reaction to Stephen's question left no words needed to be said. Stephen felt an unpleasant, heavy, sinking sensation in his chest and stomach, he had seen that look so many times before.

“No,” Stephen shook his head in denial, “No, no, no, no.” Stephen scooted closer, bringing your hand against his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks as he closed his eyes, whispering, “(Y/N) wake up, please I’m begging you, wake up.” Stephen’s voice came out cracked and broken against the cool palm of your hand. 

“Stephen,” Wong called him, his voice trying to remain strong, “Christine gave me an unexpected call last night,” Wong paused to ease Stephen into it, “Christine said that her brain activity has been declining over the course of a few days... I won't explain to you the meaning since you are the best person to understand.”

Wong was correct, Stephen knew well of what’s to come next. You were entering the vegetative state and it would only be a matter of days or even hours before you become brain dead which would eventually lead to your passing.

Stephen suddenly felt like he was running out of time, “You threatened me that you’ll be Sorcerer Supreme when I come back remember? So why does Wong have that title? I know you can hear me, I'm right here, I'm back and I'm never leaving your side again. Please–you can’t leave me like this, I h-have so much I want to say to you-" Stephen uttered while sounding incoherent to Wong, his words getting caught in his throat as his breathing became irregular, his face flushed a deep shade of red, and his features scrunched up as he tries to embrace the pain he was feeling at the centre of his chest. He couldn’t care less about how he looks right now.

“I don’t know if this will give you comfort but know that she always loved you, Stephen.” Wong, having to see Strange give in to his emotions like this for the first time, placed his hand over Stephen's shoulders giving it a firm squeeze before leaving through the portal teary eyed.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there to protect you.  This is exactly what I had feared, and that's why I kept my feelings hidden from you but deep inside I was praying that you and I might end up together, but now I feel as though I have wasted the love you had for me and it’s all my fault. I should’ve told you what you meant to me but I guess this is the cross I have to bear for my pride. 

So before you go, I want you to know that I love you. I will miss the warmth of your smile, I’ll miss the way you get flustered in my presence, the way your eyes shine when you look at me; and when I look up at the stars I will remember you.” He swallows hard as he leaned over you to plant a long kiss on your forehead, savoring your scent. He sat back staring at you, trying to take in your visage in person as much as he can, your hands still under his hold, not wanting to let go.

•••

Many of those who knew you came to pay their respects to you after you left this world about two and a half months ago. The majority of those who were present, were now trying to put their lives back together, it was understandable that they all have issues they need to handle. Stephen, however, wasn't one of them.

Stephen wore his grief all too well and it showed in his appearance. With his face so long out of the sun, it seems almost as if it has been leached, which accentuated the dark shadows under his sunken eyes. A shadow is cast over his cheeks by his protruding cheekbones, making his features look gaunt and thin along with his long and unkempt facial hair. Too broken to move on, he became frozen in time, his heart becoming colder and bitter while the world around him forgot that you ever existed. 

But how could he move on when everything that surrounded him reminded him of you. You had left your mark in every spell book and every corner of this Sanctum which now felt lonely and eerie, he didn’t dare look into your favourite areas to hang around in, scared to face the reality of you not being there, smiling at him. Every night he dreamt of you, waking up each day leaving him emptier, the hole in his chest bigger; a void that nothing can seem to fill.

Everyone around him seemed to be finding the happiness they were looking for and when Christine got married, she hoped Stephen would be able to find happiness. That night when he came home and had an epiphany; he would find his happiness even if it meant travelling to a different world where it had you in it.

Until he had memorised every page of the Darkhold like the back of his hand, Stephen did not rest. He doesn't care if it takes months, years or decades, only when he finds you in another world then will be able to find peace. He will not stop and he won’t let anyone get in the way.

Due to the intensity of grief that he felt for you, he was blinded to what was happening inside him, as the Darkhold used his vulnerability to fuel his desire to dreamwalk in search of you in another universe. To his dismay, he only found more of himself doing the same mistakes as he did; universe by universe the same mistake again and again and again. The more he dreamwalks the more his self-loathe grows out of control— so he did his own variants a favour and saved them from their future suffering and he called this, mercy.

The sky cracks and rumbles as dark clouds roll over the city of New York, Wong rushed outside of the Sanctum after failing to find Strange inside it. Panic and mania drove people to run and drive wherever they can, matter was melting all around him, the fabric of reality was breaking all because of Stephen’s recklessness. Wong ran back inside to find Stephen at the third floor, peering out the window, watching the world around him pay for his arrogance.

“What have you done?” Wong asked in a sharp tone. 

With an evil glint in his eyes, he turned ever so slowly around, a grim sadistic smile spreading from the corners of his mouth,

“Things just got out of hand.”

#stephen strange #benedict cumberbatch imagine #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #marvel x you #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x you #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x you #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #dr strange x reader #dr strange x you #doctor strange fanfiction #sinister strange

[ao3feed-tf2ships]

The Beast Class

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/50828311

by Winged_Oblivion

Perfect. they had called him perfect. He was a beast. an abomiation that defied all sanity. a monster. so why did they call him perfect?

Words: 2365, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Team Fortress 2

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Other

Characters: Heavy (Team Fortress 2), Medic (Team Fortress 2), Scout (Team Fortress 2), Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Spy (Team Fortress 2), Engineer (Team Fortress 2), Pyro (Team Fortress 2), Demoman (Team Fortress 2), Soldier (Team Fortress 2), Miss Pauling (Team Fortress 2), Administrator (Team Fortress 2), Original Characters

Relationships: Heavy/Medic (Team Fortress 2), Sniper/Spy (Team Fortress 2)

Additional Tags: CharacterDeaths, noreallysomeonedies, Itsreallysad, Idkhowtagswork, Violence, Gore, psychological torment, Physical Torture, Smoking, Drinking, death(but they respawn), Major character death - Freeform, Body Horror, Hallucinations

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/50828311

#TF2 Heavy #TF2 Medic #HeavyMedic #Red Oktoberfest

[ereri-fics]

Zombie apocalypse with the pref to top Levi if smut?

Zombereri by Evil_Panda_Roar

Eren and his friends plan on heading to Canada after the zombie apocalypse hits the world in hopes that they will find a place they will be safe from zombies. Eren and his friends; Mikasa and Armin, get separated on their trip there however. Eren doesn't know where he is and meets a dark haired man named Levi.

Warning: graphic depictions of violence, minor character death.

R.

#riren #zombie #apocalypse #multchapter #complete #25to50 #angst #smut #fluff #toplevi #bottomeren #violence #characterdeath

[fierypen37]

Blue Roses in Winter

moodboard by @libradoodle1

Blue Roses in Winter

 Gerris took a ginger sip of his tea, hands wrapped around the mug to absorb every bit of warmth. It was a frigid day. A biting wet cold where heavy grey clouds loomed, but there was no snow. Just intermittent spates of sleet that slicked the roads in a sheen of ice. On such a day, few parishioners attended service. Far fewer mourners visited the small kirkyard. The tea slid warm down his throat, freshened with lemon. Boredom set in as the cold miserable day waned into night. Darkness crept in, only the wavering shelves of candles and one lone lamp kept it at bay. Sleet pinged off the windows. The quiet wasn’t grating to him. Peace could be found in solitude. And soon, he could rest. His relief would be here in the morning, Septon Walder. As fiery and energetic as his red hair would suggest. Ah, the zeal of youth.

Gerris checked his watch and sighed. Time for rounds again. He heaved up from the small table outside the sanctuary of the sept, donned his coat, scarf, gloves. The wind screamed through the parish as he opened the door. He limped through the small kirkyard, eyes watering into the wind. The air was a cold knife that sliced through his clothing to chill his skin. A miserable day. The rows of tombstones gleamed in the light of Gerris’ torch. He touched the names with gloved fingers and murmured prayers under his breath as he trudged, trying not to slip on sleet-slick grass. Glover, Nott, Fletcher, Cerwyn, Smith, Snow.

“Good evening, Maester,” a cool feminine voice said. Gerris cursed, pulling up short. He slipped on the wet grass and, flailing, he lost his torch. He braced himself for the hard fall when he was caught by strong, sure hands.

“Easy!” in the rain-spattered light of his torch, Gerris found himself eye to eye with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He found his feet, straightening his clothes to hide his embarrassment.

“Pardon me, miss. Pardon me,” he muttered.

“Apologies, Maester, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The woman’s brow puckered in concern. She had been in the kirkyard for some time, he now realized, judging by how soaked her clothing was. The ball cap, down jacket, jeans and boots held up all right, but still . . . Gerris glanced at the stone she stood vigil by. The date on the gravestone would suggest she was his granddaughter or caregiver. Then in the oblique light of the torch, he glimpsed her eyes. Gerris had seen that look in every widow or widower’s eyes. They looked . . . hollow. As if some vital part had been scraped out of them. Who was he to judge? Age differences didn’t matter when it came to grief.  

“It’s a miserable night to be out, miss. Come on back to the sept, I’ll fix you some coffee. Warm you up,” he said.

“Very well. Thank you, Maester,” she said.

“Gerris, please.”

“Gerris, my name is Daenerys.”

“A pleasure, Daenerys.”

The walk back was a quiet one. The howling wind and slick, uncertain footing made certain of that. The warm, dry air of the sept embraced them, and he breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Let me fetch you that coffee,” Gerris said, pouring a cup into his only mug. Daenerys shed her wet hat and shook a mane of silver-blond hair loose. The water made her hair glitter like she was one the Mother’s angels. Gods, she was lovely.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the cup. Gerris had learned in his long years of service that silence was the most effective tool for communication. Often, people just needed to order their thoughts, or, if they were anxious, they hurried to fill the silence and gave room to work on what they needed to. Daenerys had a self-contained air—almost regal—though she wore her grief as heavily as her sodden coat.

“I have a space heater in here. You can hang your coat, see if we can dry it a bit,” he said, grateful for the warbling heater returning some circulation to his old bones. He took his ease in his chair, kneading his thigh to ease the ache of an old injury. He poured a coffee for himself into a disposable water cup from the water cooler. The heat seared his palm, but he was grateful for it after the icy bluster outside.

“You are very kind, thank you,” Daenerys said, shrugging her coat off and draping it over Gerris’s desk chair. The fluid way she moved was like a dance all its own and Gerris admired her as one would admire a marble statue of a goddess. Daenerys idly stroked the barrier before the altar and its shelves of lit candles. The tinted glasses cast a rainbow of color over her face. Incense filled the air with its sweetness.

“Tell me about him.” The words hurt her. He saw her flinch and hurried to assuage his hasty words.

“You don’t have to, but sometimes it helps to talk. About the good and the bad,” Gerris said. Daenerys took a long drink of her coffee. She leveled him with steely gaze and Gerris wondered at the amethyst hue of her eyes. Her scrutiny was no mean thing, Gerris found himself straightening his posture like he was back in seminary.

“You’ve dedicated your life to your faith. You must believe in it with your whole heart,” she said. There’s a loaded statement! Gerris chose his words with care, aware that if he erred, he would spook her. Perhaps sour her questionings towards matters of faith forever. He wasn’t a man to take such conversations lightly.

“In my youth, I would have answered yes. Without question.” Daenerys’ eyes narrowed to violet slits. Something of her poise and stillness reminded him of a direwolf in the snow.

“And now?” she pressed. Gerris took a long draught of his coffee, relishing the rich, bitter taste. Clearing his throat, he gestured to the unoccupied chair for her to sit. Daenerys remained where she stood.

“As I’ve grown older, I’ve grown to understand that faith is simply one of many frameworks used make sense of the universe. Seven heavens, seven hells.  Nuance matters. Sincerity matters, in my opinion.” The diplomatic words seemed to mollify her. Some of the tension bled from her frame.

“I . . . wherever he is, I want to go there too. Is . . . is that possible?” the words held the vulnerability of a child and Gerris’ throat closed a little. She looked so forlorn and grief-stricken. A rudderless ship in the endless dark ocean with no hope of shore.

“Of course,” Gerris said around the hot lump in his throat. Daenerys looked unconvinced.

“I’ve done bad things.”

“No one is blameless. The Mother’s mercy awaits all of us.” Mercy, grace. That was all we needed in the end. Daenerys slid gracefully into the creaking chair.

“I’m not even sure he believed. His family followed the old gods,” she said.

“And yet you want to be where he is one day. In the next life,” Gerris asked. Daenerys gave a slow nod.

“If there is a chance I could be with him again, I will do what you ask.” There was steel ringing in the words, as if they were a sacred oath. Gerris sipped his coffee to buy time to think. Daenerys was not only grief-stricken and questioning, but desperate. He must be careful.

“I cannot speak for the old gods. I thought funeral rites prescribed cremation.” Daenerys recoiled.

“They did, they do. But I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t bear the thought of burning him. You must think that is foolish.”

Gerris risked laying his hand over hers. Father above, even warmed by the heater, her hands were like ice!

“You loved him. So much you would swear devotion to a god you don’t believe in on the off chance you could see him in heaven. That doesn’t sound foolish to me.”

“Tell me more,” Daenerys said.

The atmosphere relaxed after that. Over coffee and half-stale teacakes, he and Daenerys whiled away the small hours of the night talking about faith. Conversation ranged wider as Daenerys relaxed, onward to discuss mythology and science and politics. Gerris glanced out the window toward the lightening sky and rubbed his gritty eyes.

“Apologies, my dear, but I must get some rest. My relief is due soon. Shall I walk you to your car?”

Daenerys smile was so lovely it stole his breath, but there was little enough joy in it.

“I think not, Maester. Thank you for your kindness and conversation. I think I’ll stay at the marker a while longer.”

Gerris’ creaking knees scaled the stairs to his small room. From the tiny window, in the murky predawn light, he glimpsed Daenerys’ lonely figure among the gravestones. Find peace, my dear. At last the clouds were breaking and Gerris took heart in the brilliant gold of the rising sun. Septon Walder arrived promptly at seven fifteen. Gerris made a detour through the markers until he found the roses Daenerys had left. Gorgeous winter blooms, as blue as the heart of a sapphire. The marble stone. Jon Snow: Beloved Husband

Gerris murmured a prayer over the stone, hoping Jon had found peace—as well as Daenerys who loved him.  

#daenerys targaryen #jon snow #jonerys fic #vampire!Dany #bartender!Jon #angst #no really angst #characterdeath

[authorbettyadams]

Flying Sparks - Dragons, Aliens, A Book of First Contact

#FoundFamily #Scifi #ScienceFantasy #FluffandAngst #Shifters #AlternateHistory #FlyingSparks #ScienceFiction #Story #novel #book #Fluff #Angst #AlternateUniverse #Hurt/Comfort #Family #Friendship #love #Violence #Death #FluffandAngst #Parenthood #SupernaturalElements #CharacterDeath #ModernEra #Hurt #Trauma #Domestic #MythicalBeings&Creatures #DrakeMcCarty #AmaLove #Donny #Em #Bard #Bole #Aliens #Spaceships #Crystals #fireflies #NPS #NationalPark #Doctor #Sever #family #storm #writing #reading #drama #literature #author #BettyAdams #DyingEmbers #Dragons #ThingsThatGoBoomp #Indiegogo #CrowdFunding #Injury #Siblings #Enemies

#FoundFamily #Scifi #ScienceFantasy #FluffandAngst #Shifters #AlternateHistory #FlyingSparks #ScienceFiction #Story #novel #book #Fluff #Angst #AlternateUniverse #Hurt/Comfort #Family #Friendship #love #Violence #Death #Parenthood #SupernaturalElements #CharacterDeath #ModernEra #Hurt #Trauma #Domestic #MythicalBeings&Creatures #DrakeMcCarty #AmaLove

[justaltruix227]

||Under the Surface - c!Tubbo||

Song: Surface Pressure - Encanto

Fandom: DSMP

(Fanart by smackbear)

*Bang! Bang!*  echoed through the heated room as the forge burned through its fuel. In the middle was the sturdy figure, covered in heat protection gear as he handled the hot iron swords. 

A sigh left his body as he finally gives into his emotions, remembering everything. 

"I'm the strong one, I'm not nervous." Grinding out the sides of the sword to reduce the chips and make the sharp edge, now only in a sweater and heat protection gloves he works the fine blade.

"I'm as tough as the crust of the Earth is." He removes the gloves after finally being done with the swords for the day. Easily lifting the heavy swords into their stands, the scarred figure turns to leave the large forge.

"I move mountains, I move churches." He grabs his winter coat to protect him from the coldness of Snowchester. "And I glow, 'cause I know what my worth is." The yellow radioactive symbol standing out  as it took most of the coats back. 

He opens the forges door to be met by the cold breeze. "I don't ask how hard the work is." He turns a corner, standing on top of the wall. "Got a rough indestructible surface."

"Diamonds and platinum, I find 'em, I flatten 'em." His feet lay tracks in the snow of where he once was, he turns to look out at the sea, knowing one or two of his mates are out there messing around. "I take what I'm handed, I break what's demanded, but-" A firework full of colours went off out at sea.

"Under the surface." He was still in his suit, standing behind Quackity and Jschlatt. "I feel berserk as a tightrope walker in a three-ring circus." Quackity leans in close to make the boy unsteady as Schlatt drops a large pile of paper work in his hands.

"Under the surface." Nervously the smaller ram crinkled the paper as Schlatt played with him like a cat toying with a mouse, "Was Hercules ever like, "Yo, I don't wanna fight Cerberus?""

"Under the surface." Tubbo hurrys down the hall with the papers that was given to him from Schlatt with 'TOP SECRET' on it, passing it to the man in front of him. "I'm pretty sure I'm worthless if I can't be of service." Wilbur took the papers with a smile.

"A flaw or a crack" He smiles back at Wilbur before panicking hearing the bigger rams voice, as if he's haunting the young ram. 

"The straw in the stack" Feeling as though the President has a grasp around him dragging him down, he struggles. 

"That breaks the camel's back." Jschlatt ushering Technoblade with the crossbow. Wilbur having his hands around Tommy's mouth so he doesn't scream out. Hands and body pressed against the box he was now in as the bow was steadied and aimed at him.

"What breaks the camel's back, it's-" 

[Tubbo_ went off with a bang due to a firework from [Subscribe to Technoblade] from Technoblade]

Blue, red and white filled the air.

"Pressure, like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa" The blood pouring from his face as the wounds stayed when he came back.

"Pressure that'll tip, tip, tip 'til you just go pop, whoa, oh, oh" Tears began to flow from his eyes, as he bandages himself.

"Give it to your sister, your sister's older." He shuffles to Tommy, the blonde beaming with joy as people cheered. Tubbo taking the pressure off Tommy he accepts the role. 

"Give her all the heavy things we can't shoulder." Becoming the President just like he was.  

"Who am I if I can't run with the ball?" He shakes his head before standing at the podium about to give his speech. 

"If I fall to" He whispers as he begins to change from his normal clothes back into a suit. 

"Pressure like a grip, grip, grip, and it won't let go, whoa." He turns to see Dream with Tommy, giving an ultimatum.

Feeling as though Dream has him tied like as puppet. "Pressure like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow, whoa, oh, oh." Tubbo cracks.

"Give it to your sister, your sister's stronger." He runs to Tommy, "see if she can hang on a little longer."

"Who am I if I can't carry it all?" He questions his choices and option as he turns to Dream. 

"If I falter" Dream turns away with a hard hand on Tommy's shoulder. 

"Under the surface." He paces around Fundy and Quackity, "I hide my nerves, and it worsens, I worry something is gonna hurt us." Paranoid Technoblade would come back. 

"Under the surface." He runs and runs trying to escape Dreams grasp but he never can. "The ship doesn't swerve as it heard how big the iceberg is." As Techno and Dream began to team up.

"Under the surface." He stumbles over only to see the obsidian grid above him, "I think about my purpose, can I somehow preserve this?"

"Line up the dominoes" The tnt becoming placed.

"A light wind blows" The sound of flint and steel igniting can be heard. 

"You try to stop it tumbling" He clutches his head.

The constantly igniting and falling of tnt, "but on and on it goes." Technoblade summoning the withers.

"But wait," Hes back at Snowchester. "If I could shake the crushing weight of expectations." Ranboos standing there with Micheal in his hands, waving at him. 

Micheal being let down. He runs straight for Tubbo, tackling the rams legs so he staggered and fell. "Would that free some room up for joy."

Ranboo follows suit and falls next to him in the snow. "Or relaxation, or simple pleasure?" Giggles and soft smiles coming from all three. 

"Instead, we measure this growing pressure." Tubbo turns to get up, hands clenching.

"Keeps growing, keep going," His short steps became longer and quicker 

"'Cause all we know is." Las Nevadas. He begins to make walls, creating Walltown. 

"Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa" The cookie outpost becoming heavily fortified. 

"Pressure that'll tip, tip, tip 'til you just go pop, whoa-oh-oh." Quackity and him discussing the outpost and agreeing to give it too him instead.

"Give it to your sister, it doesn't hurt, and" He turns to Ranboo expressing how he can help with anything. 

"See if she can handle every family burden" He flexes jokingly as he turns to the door with a large nuclear symbol on it.

He enters and quickly approaches the button. "Watch as she buckles and bends but never breaks." His hand just above the button, ready to push it.  His open palm closes into a fist. "No mistakes, just." He turns to leave. 

Standing outside the prison. "Pressure like a grip, grip, grip, and it won't let go, whoa." Sams sword going straight through the hybrids chest as red and green began to drip onto the grass below. A scream came from the young ram. 

"Pressure like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow, whoa, oh, oh." Tears feel heavily from the ram as the fight continued around him. 

"Give it to your sister and never wonder." He yells at Ghostboo, "If the same pressure would've pulled you under." Realising the tears flowing more from the ghost he pulls away, tugging at his own hair. 

"Who am I if I don't have what it takes?" He screams

"No cracks, no breaks"  Technoblade giving him the picture of Micheal Ranboo was holding before death. 

"No mistakes, no pressure." He readies himself to reek havoc on those who's wronged his family.

#c!tubbo #tubbo #characterdeath #dsmp #dsmplore #c!ranboo #ranboo #c!michael #altf4work