#everyone dies

[blue-raeofsunshine]

Me and my partner had a conversation a few months ago about how if jordie hadn’t died, it’s possible that all of the crows would have.

the scenario is ‘what if jordie hadn’t died of plague?’

kaz and jordie probably would have gone back to lij or eventually figured out a way through ketterdam. but kaz wouldn’t have joined the dregs.

inej would have been stuck in the menagerie for life. she would have died there, unable to pay off her indenture.

matthias would probably have died in hellgate, unless nina figured out how to free him. but that definitely would have taken a while and he may have just killed her on sight.

wylan would have died in the tannery. that place was already killing him with fumes and he was barely making enough money. or alternatively, he would have died of exhaustion. or if not, his father’s men would have got him.

nina would have joined the dime lions. she only joined the dregs because inej was sent by kaz to employ her. it’s possible that she would have lived, but like. nina in the dime lions? who knows.

jesper joined the dregs because he got jumped in an alley, so that may have killed him. if not, well… he was so deep in debt that he’d probably end up in trouble anyway.

and kuwei would still be in the ice court, forced to give iver the formula for parem. because the crows were the only ones to ever break into the ice court.

in conclusion, jordie had to die for the rest of the crows to live. honestly, jordie and kaz might have died as well. either in the barrel or if they tried to get back to lij, then on the way back to lij. but if kaz doesn’t end up on reaper’s barge, none of the crows make it. and pekka still rules the barrel.

#everyone dies #beware #this isn’t a fun au #six of crows #jordie rietveld #kaz and jordie #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #matthias helvar #nina zenik

[pratchettquotes]

The wages of sin is death but so is the salary of virtue, and at least the evil get to go home early on Fridays.

Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

#nanny ogg #witches abroad #discworld #terry pratchett #morals #ethics #morality #wages of sin #good and evil #everyone dies #weekends #salary of virtue #fridays

[angelfishcake]

I wrote a Transformers Prime fic.

#transfomers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp soundwave #tfp lazerbeak #miko nakadai #jack darby #rafael esquivel #raf esquivel #transformers rumble #transformers frenzy #transformers ravage #everyone DIES #soundwave #shadow zone #shadowzone

[weirdtinkerbellversion]

October as a Marauders fan is like yaaayy kinky smut but also “remember how everyone died, went to prison, and ended up alone for 12 years?” Yepp!

#marauders #marauders fandom #october #kinktober #everyone dies #remus lupin #sirius black #lily evans #james potter

[unadulteratedbluebirdnightmare]

Cale but with angst as hell + regression

.

Cale failed to defeat white star, not actually, but his family died, his mom, dad, sons, brother, sister and everyone of his party.

He is alone now.

Without family, friends, happiness

Without anyone

Without reasons to continue living

So he kill himself

But he continues alive?

He is in his bed in the territory which was destroyed, his family is alive and he has a second chance

But he failed again

And again

And again

Again again and again

And no matter what he doesn't can keep everyone alive

He is getting tired

He lived so much more he pretends

And he just wants to die

But he can't.

#trash of the count's family #lcf #tcf #lout of the count’s family #lout of count’s family #lcf cale #tcf cale #kim rok soo #everyone dies #angst #AHHAHHAHAHSHHHA THE PROTAGONIST IS SUFFERING #poor cale he just deserve the better:(

[happyheidi]

My mothers dog, Clara, has passed away.. 💔

Darling Clara. ❤️ The Cavalier King Charles spaniel who turned 13. I was waiting for the third. Cus it usually happens in threes. People/animals passing away. Earlier this year I was scared it was gonna be Moffe but she’s been so good lately. So it’s been my grandfather, my good friend and now Clara.. I’m just in shock right now. Clara was the best dog and I feel so sad for my brother (who’s studying astronomy & physics) and I hope it doesn’t ruin his studying.. he loved her so much.. it’s so hard to hear your brother cry … it’s hard hearing anyone u love cry.. this hasn’t sinked in yet .. 😔

#text #everyone dies #i hate it so much #she was the only dog moffe liked

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

In The Next Life, My Love

A quick little bitter drabble that I didn’t have time to develop fully but needed to write.

TW: The ending is not open. Everyone’s dead yo. Angst.

It’s dark and cold, where they are, The King and his servant, and the end is coming. They know it’s coming, no point denying it, or fighting it; they’ve been locked up for so long that their wrists, once strong and thick and soft, rattle in their chains. The mould is getting to them, making their heads ache and their skin crawl, but they have each other, and in the darkness they each have a light in the form of the other’s exponentially bony fingers intertwined with their own:

“Merlin,-”

The King coughs, and this one word—this name that now means everything to him, and perhaps always had—quiet and rasping and so very very pained, saps almost all his remaining energy. His companion comforts him the only way he can, a cold, damp-wrinkled thumb scraping the back of his hand, and waits patiently until The King’s chest calms enough to allow him to continue:

“-in the next life,-”

Merlin interrupts him, his voice more quiet, more rasping, more pained, but far, far more determined:

“I’ll serve you. Always, Arthur.”

“No.-”

His dismissal, his order, is the loudest noise either of them have heard in days, and Merlin flinches, moaning quietly as the pounding in his head, which he had managed to forget about, magnifies significantly:

“-no, Merlin, no.-”

Arthur’s continuation is so quiet, so soft, Merlin has to think for a few seconds before he can process what he’s said:

“-In the next life, Merlin, I... I...-”

He sighs, or sighs as well as he can when every breath he takes in is as shallow as a puddle on cobblestones and painful as a knife to the chest; his eyes close, though he couldn’t really tell they were open before, his vision having become so blurred he couldn’t tell his thinning legs from the rotten floor. There’s a long pause, and the only evidence Merlin has that his King hasn’t passed on between one word and the next is the rattling breaths he hears from beside him. 

Breathing is what he focuses on, what he holds on to. It had been a cacophony before; an orchestra of inhalations and exhalations had surrounded them, before the candles they’d been left with had burned to nothing and the others had stopped breathing, one by one.

Merlin has always known his King well, so when he stops speaking—stutters, stutters, stops—he doesn’t worry, Merlin knows Arthur is just searching for the right words. Always, always searching for the right words, and never quite finding them. Always searching, always being too afraid of settling for something subpar, so never saying anything at all. Every time it happens, it breaks his heart a little, but every time Arthur tries again... it mends him.

He lets him think.

Think.

Think.

Think.

Another stroke along the back of his hand prompts Arthur to continue. He’s not sure he’s found the right words, but he thinks they’ll have to do:

“-In the next life, Merlin, you will not serve me for a second. Not for a second. In the next life, I’ll find you, you won’t have to find me, I’ll find you, and I’ll tell you that I... that I love you, and we’ll spend our lives together again, but... but better. I promise, Merlin, next time it will be better.”

His voice cracks and crumbles and falls apart as he whispers his secrets to the darkness. He wonders, for a moment, if Merlin were really alive. If perhaps he’d died days ago like the others and he was just imagining the squeezes, the strokes. The hand he’s holding is cold enough and stiff enough to be from a corpse. He thinks maybe the breathing and coughing were just echoes of his own, that maybe he is alone in the depths of the earth. The silence—other than the rasping rasping rasping breaths so similar to his own—stretches long enough that Arthur is halfway further to being mad when Merlin finally, really, replies:

“Ok. I... Ok. Just... promise me one thing?-”

Arthur hums, and the choking noise is something terrible, but it gets the point across, and he figures the clicking sound coming from his right is Merlin twisting his head, so he can at least pretend that they’re able to look at each other; Arthur follows his lead, and he likes to think that, when he opens his tired, dry eyes, and squints through the pitch blackness, that he can see something blue peering back at him:

“-Have better timing, next time?”

Arthur can hear the smirk in his voice, and he thinks, if he’d had enough energy, he could cry and wail and scream at the prospect of the next life not being promised, and even if it where, their meeting in it not being guaranteed. He can’t conceive of a world, or an unworld, whatever comes after he stops hurting so much, in which he doesn’t have Merlin’s smirk. As it is, the only reaction his starving mind can manage is a single, small tear slipping down his cheek as he tactically twitches his pinkie finger in Merlin’s grip, and mumbles back:

“Promise.”

The silence descends once more, and when Merlin speaks, or, more accurately, when Merlin forces his last breath to take the form of words, he realises, in his last spark of thought as his tongue collapses over the very last syllable, that his last remaining companion may not have remained long enough to hear him:

“I love you too, Arthur.”

~

The End.

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH.

Anyway.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Hope you enjoyed😅

#bbc merlin #merthur #merthur angst #merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur love confession #everyone dies nobody lives #everyone dies no one survives #they all die #everyone dies #bbc merlin angst #hurt arthur #hurt arthur pendragon #hurt merlin #no bamfness here #:( #ANYWAY #how's you?? #I promise I'm ok #just SUPER busy #and i figured when inspiration strikes #better take advantaged #even if the inspiration takes the form of a horrible little cackle #and gives me this ^ monstrosity #merlin angst

[siriusthirdcousin]

found family is great. we love the found family trope. BUT THE FAMILY HAS TO STAY FOUND!!! I HATE WHEN WE LOSE THE FAMILY!!!!!!!

#everyone dies #everyone always dies #slytherin skittles #harry potter #marauders #guardians of the galaxy #gotg vol 3 #dead poets society #the avengers #iron man and spiderman #xmen

[littledreamling]

★ - sad headcanon for Dream!

(playing to the strengths of the angst king, perhaps >:) )

Ohohoho you picked a good one for me lmao

I could reiterate the headcanon I sent in the server a few days ago (about Dream having trauma from being watched and never being able to feel like he's really alone, even in the Dreaming) but you've already heard that, so I'll pick a new (ish) one. Adding a cut and warning for graphic depictions of violence, major character death, heavy angst, comic spoilers, and my late-night attempt to make the comics worse than they already were in terms of... well, everything lmao. Proceed with caution!

Sad Headcanon:

This isn’t a sad headcanon about Dream specifically, more of a Dreamling sad headcanon, and I’ve made a post about this specific idea before (which can be found here!) so you’ll have to forgive me for bending the rules slightly but here goes:

There is something off, Dream thinks, walking next to his sister. Her usually cheery demeanor is subdued slightly, as if viewing her through a screen door; the outline of her is there, but the details feel fuzzy. When he asks her how she is keeping, he means it. He is concerned. She assures him that she is keeping well, or as well as she can, given her function, and he accepts it. He expects the conversation to be dropped. Or, at the very least, he expects the conversation to move on, and her odd mood with it. Sunlight and humanity have always cheered her up and he does not think today will be any different.

And then he asks about his pet project, Hob Gadling. He is curious, after all, to see how Hob is keeping, especially after their missed meeting. Have you seen him? He asks, and does not miss the way Death has tensed beside him, nor the way her step falters, a minute and monumental waver. He feels his brow crease.

I have, she says, and there is something in her voice that does not sit well, in a way even a century of imprisonment could not match. He can feel his fingers twitch at his sides, the full extent of human reaction he will allow himself, and waits for elaboration.

He asked to see me, she says, and Dream stops short. In the middle of the street, bright sun glaring down through overarching leaves, surrounded and untouched by humanity, the meaning of her words dawn on him like a waxing moon. Dream stops short. His breath, unnecessary and painful, comes in short bursts and Death's mournful eyes scrape like twin razors against his raw heart.

It was my fault, he says, somehow. He forces the words from between numb lips, somehow. Death's eyes soften, somehow. Somehow, it is worse. Just another thing he has lost while imprisoned. Just another thing crumbling in his hands, crushed under the weight of his pride and stupidity.

It wasn't just you, she says, and he does not believe her. Had he asked for help, had he plucked up the courage to be able to trust again, this would not have happened. If he had been able to place faith in Death, or in Alex, or in Burgess, Hob would still be alive. The thought almost sends him to his knees and he realizes that the keening noise in his ears is escaping from behind his own teeth.

Oh, Dream, I'm so sorry, she says, and he believes her. It does not help. How could she? How could she do that to him, knowing their history? How could she have submitted so easily to the whims of a simple, stupid human? He does not realize he is speaking aloud until she answers.

I am as bound to my function as you are, brother, she says, and her voice is soft, understanding. I could no more deny him my gift than you could deny him yours. Nor any human. She is nicer than he is. He has always known that. He suddenly wishes, selfishly, that she were not. If she had been as cruel as some had accused Dream of being, Hob would still be alive. The thought is no less agonizing the second time.

A raven, he gasps, desperation coloring his essence. He should've become my raven. They were mortals, once. Tell me you left him in my realm. He was mine in life, surely you have bestowed him upon me in death as well. He knows it is hopeless even as he says it. The ache in her eyes is answer enough. The anguish infused in every line of her body as she sinks down in front of him (when had he collapsed? He cannot remember) is a needless confirmation.

You are the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is you, she says, and he wishes he could close his ears, wishes he could block out the words he knows to be true, wishes he could stop her from speaking the truth he knows she will speak, she will always speak. With you gone, there was no realm to leave him in. He has crossed to the Sunless Lands, Dream. I'm sorry.

If she suddenly finds herself kneeling next to a pile of sand, she is kind enough not to mention it the next time she sees him. Indeed, the next time they find each other, she simply sits by his side, a comforting presence in the middle of one of the Dreaming's most comforting dreams. Fiddler's Green, newly restored, seems to tremble at the sight of her, of them, sitting together, nearly touching. Dream's gaze is held by his hands, bloody up to the elbows. It would make him sick to his stomach if he could feel anything, but he can't. There is only a numbness, deep in his soul, an exhaustion that all the rest in the world would not be able to touch.

What happened, Dream? She asks, without a shred of judgement. As if she does not know. As if she wants to hear it from his lips. They sit in silence; he does not know for how long. Too long, perhaps, but she has always indulged him. She has always made special exceptions for him.

I killed her, he says, quiet and sullen. I spilled family blood. Even when Lucienne tried to stop me, even when Unity revealed her bloodline. It did not matter. Or perhaps it did. I killed her anyway.

Just a few paces away, the body of Rose Walker is sprawled on the grass, staining the blades underneath her a tacky, child's-mind red. Where her chest had been now sits a cavity, caved in and empty, her very heart torn, still beating, from her breast. Her blood stains his fingernails because he lets it. He does not care to clean himself. He does not care to tidy his realm. He does not care.

You know what the Kindly Ones will do, Death says. It is a statement of fact. It is as immutable as Destiny's own book. He knows this. He had known this. He had not cared. He still does not.

Yes, he says, because he thinks he should respond. There is nothing more to be said. They sit in silence, listening to the last somber notes of his realm ring out, the easy swish of leaves, the gentle rushing of water, the birdsong from the trees. The air is still around them; he is not sure he could stand, or walk, or even move, even if he tried. He does not try. He simply sits. He simply waits.

Dream? Give me your hand, she says, and with a minute and monumental waver, he does. The last thing he feels in the warmth of her skin against his, a familiar presence at his side, and a warm smile. The very gifts that had been offered to Hob Gadling a decade before. Gifts given, gifts accepted. And with a flash of light, Dream of the Endless accepts.

#major character death #angst #heavy angst #graphic depictions of violence #the absence of hope #everyone dies #the comics were tragic #this is worse #proceed with caution #i'm so sorry #this still feels incomplete but i already know people are going to be mad at me #i really don't need to make it any worse #to be fair... you asked for this lmao #i'm sorry aquila #dream of the endless #morpheus #hob gadling #dreamling #sandman netflix #the sandman #sandman comics spoilers #sandman spoilers

[nartml]

BAHAHAHAHAHA SO FUNNY they make me sick. They make me violently ill.

#the poppy war #tpw #fang runin #nezha #everyone dies #im not having a good time #ms rf kuang you are brilliant btw

[dizzeycheizzy]

#sky children of the light #sky cotl #sky children fanart #everyone dies #lmaooo

[tymianox]

we don't have much time

#dark aesthetic #dark academia #dark academic aesthetic #gothic poetry #weeping angels #everyone dies #whats the point

[hang-on-lil-tomato]

Killing Beloved Characters

Joss Whedon:

“His penchant to kill off characters has been widely acknowledged.[293][294] Whedon has admitted extreme tiredness to the criticism,[176][295] explaining, "The percentage of people who die... is a lot. I think it's pretty near everybody. The percentage of people that I kill—not so many. I think the reason that my rep is so nasty is that I tend to do it... unexpectedly, or to someone people are recently invested in, and that is a real mission statement for me, because, death doesn't leave a card. Death doesn't take Hitler. It doesn't work according to story plans, and when a death feels like a loss, gives you grief... then you have told a story that involves death."[296] Dramatic effect is used to convey the sense of realism and shock value that comes from fatal circumstances.[294]”

source:

I’ve seen a lot of Whedon’s influence in OMFD,

character walking shots

joss Whedon two step (super dramatic moment followed by joke, rinse repeat)

hang in there my loves! We’ll be ok.

Con may simply have another offer and may need to be back in the UK or Hollywood.

#Hang in there my loves #izzy hands #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd s2 #izzy #ofmd season 2 #joss whedon #david jenkins #ofmd spoilers #Death of a character #grief #everyone dies #😭❤️💔❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹💔

[wangxianficrecs]

Proud Author of a New Work

~*~

Ok, so I posted something! This story is for anyone who needs that spicy kick of angst in the morning. Lan Zhan followed Wei Ying to the Burial Mounds and lived with him for two years, and if this were a fairy tale, then that would have solved everything. If only, right? XD @amynchan

What Love Could Not Save

by AmyNChan

T, 1k, Wangxian

Summary: Once upon a time, Lan Zhan made a choice to follow Wei Ying with the Wen. He stood beside his love in his pursuit of justice. In a fairy tale, this act of love could make all the difference between survival and slaughter. This is not a fairy tale.

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

#Author boost #Proud Author of a New Work #New Work by a Proud Author #Wangxian Fic Recs #Wangxian #I have read this one and it broke my heart and I loved it #Very realistic! #POV Lan Wangji #not a fix-it #everyone dies #yiling laozu wei wuxian #lan wangji stays at the burial mounds #first siege of the burial mounds #What Love Could Not Save #AmyNChan #short fic <15k #Teen

[arasakas-ronin]

Among trees, the cherry blossom. Among men, the warrior.

Where in this proverb does it speak of thieves — of petals barely flowered?

#original content #cyberhanami23 #screenshots #V/Takemura #Vee #Takemura Goro #kintsugi #everyone dies #but there is a life to live #first

[mclannok]

Can we just discuss for a minute that yes, presumably these are the same guns at the ends of Predator 2 and Prey, which means at some point it ends up in the hands of a Yautja. By implication this would mean one of them came back, hunted again, and took it as a trophy. There’s no happy ending here in Prey.

#predator #predator 2 #prey 2022 #prey movie #no happy ending #everyone dies