#tw main character death

[waywardsunlight]

Sometimes I get sad and remember King’s pretty much immortal.

#the owl house #toh #toh fanart #the owl house fanart #waywardsunlight #toh art #toh comic #luz noceda #king clawthorne #eda clawthorne #tw main character death #main character death #the owl house comic

[toxicanonymity]

The Worst 

1.3k, Tom “Redfly” Davis x DARK f!Reader 

SUMMARY: You make Tom pay for Frankie's death.

WARNINGS: I8+ DARK FIC, DEAD DOVE noncon or very dubcon p in v, implied murder, roofie, forced gun sucking, restraints, degradation, praise kink?, Dom reader. Tom survives / Frankie dies AU.

Dedicated to @romanarose who is hosting a write a thon for the @triplefrontier-anniversary.

Happy 5 years to Tom ruining everything. He's the worst, but I'm sorry to say he's also packing.

-------------

You pretended to take comfort in him during your grief. Your flirtations over the past weeks had all been a ruse, as were your advances tonight. You always had one goal – to get Tom tied up in your basement.

Finally, you had him sitting at your kitchen table drinking a night cap. You rubbed his thigh and he looked at you like he wanted to eat you alive, if only he could muster the energy.  His eyelids were heavy with lust and a roofie.

“Maybe we could, uh, get more comfortable,” Tom slurred, nodding toward the living room. 

You downed the rest of your drink, set the glass down, and lowered yourself onto his lap, side saddle. 

“Ohh,” he muttered with his mouth barely open. “Hello.” 

“I was thinking we could go downstairs,” you purred. 

He swallowed, raised his eyebrows, and nodded, “Sure.” 

“Frankie ever tell ya ‘bout our hobbies? Lotta fun stuff down there.”

His face gave him away. “Uhh,” he stalled, “Sounds-” You ran your hand through his hair. “-Sounds good,” Tom muttered at a horny pitch. His eyes lingered on your lips, then he cleared his throat. 

“I'm gonna need ya to trust me though, Tom. Can ya do that?” 

Tom nodded. 

“Yes ma’am,” you whispered. 

“Yes ma’am,” he confirmed, clearly enjoying this. Your dominance was a perfect fit for his being a lazy sack of shit. 

“Good.”

—----------

In the basement–more of a sex dungeon, as it were–you sat Tom down in a metal chair. He let you tie him up and barely objected when you zip tied his hands behind his back. 

“Mmm,” he hummed as you did it. 

“Good boy,” you told him, making him blush. His eyes lazily danced across your face in bemusement.  “Now I'm gonna go change,”  you said. 

-

You returned in a black lingerie set – a lacy top over a strappy, crotchless bottom. You had tucked Frankie’s old pistol into the back of the bottom piece. The cool metal made your skin tighten with goosebumps all over. 

You slowly approached Tom and watched his eyes consume you. Without sitting down, you straddled him so you were standing with your tits in his face. You let him play. He nuzzled his head into your breasts, then nosed at a nipple. 

“Fuck me,” he whispered, then took one into his mouth, through the lace. 

“God, you worthless shit,” you laughed with faux affection. 

“Heh,” Tom chuckled sadly against your tit.

He didn’t notice you reach for the gun. You used the barrel to massage yourself through your underwear. He glanced down, then his eyes snapped back up to you. “Whoa, careful with that,” he laughed nervously with the barrel pointing right at his dick as you slid the cool metal against the lace covering your mound. 

“This is Frankie’s,” you said wistfully and raised the gun to admire it. You used the barrel to nudge his chin so he looked at you. He froze. “You’re gonna suck Frankie’s dick now,” you nodded and slid the barrel up his jaw, then nudged his lips with the muzzle. 

His breathing was heavier and faster. His eyes were less sleepy. 

He maneuvered to dodge the barrel. “Listen, sweetie,” he started. “Are you okay? Maybe we’ll just  — maybe. . .  watch a movie tonight,” his voice trailed off as your face made it clear you were not fucking around. 

“Open.” You grabbed his jaw. “It’s the least you can do, Tom.” 

Tom swallowed. “Okay,” he whispered. “You’re right.” He let the muzzle into his mouth. 

“Good,” you whispered. “Go on.”

You pushed the barrel further into his mouth. “Suck it, Tom. Suck Frankie’s cock.” 

His face whitened as he began to hesitantly bob his head. 

“If it weren’t for you, I’d be sucking Frankie’s real cock right now,” you reminded him and watched dread fall over his face. He hardly moved at all. 

“You can do better than that.” You pushed the gun further into his mouth and his teeth hit the metal. “Good,” you whispered as he took as much of the pistol as he could. You held the back of his head and fucked his mouth with the gun. He looked up at you pleadingly and whined incoherently. You mercifully let the barrel out of his mouth, a string of drool falling down his chin. 

“Look,” his face was serious and his tone was more sober. “I know you’re devastated. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. We can–” 

“Shut up.” You crossed your wrists behind his head and lowered yourself onto his lap. Your most sensitive area met his semi-hard bulge and you let out a moan. 

“Oh, Tom,” you sighed, impressed. 

As it turned out, there was one area where Tom didn't fall short, and your body wouldn't let you ignore it.  “Fuck,” you whispered as he hardened beneath you. You were throbbing against him. The adrenaline already had your blood flowing, and now it was flowing south. His cock twitched against you. His breath was shallow.

He watched your face carefully. He was as quiet and still as a mouse. 

“Got him killed, and now you wanna fuck his girl, don’t ya?”

Tom nodded hesitantly. 

You scoffed. “With friends like you,” you started. “Pathetic.”  A subtle lift of his hips took all your thoughts away as his warm, hard package rubbed against your front. You had never hate fucked someone before. . . With the gun still behind his head, you nudged the nape of his neck with the muzzle and he flinched. “You’re not gonna say a word,” you warned. Then you reached down between you and feverishly unbuttoned his cargo pants. 

You reached into his boxers and gasped at the smooth heat of his naked girth against your palm. “Jesus,” you whispered as you took it out. A hint of cockiness tugged at the corner of his mouth before he appeared to remember his imminent doom.

With your gun hand, you braced yourself using the back of his neck for leverage. You took your thong to the side, then spit on  your hand and wiped it on his dick. God how you hated this man. You lined yourself up, then sank down with a rush of pleasure to your chest as your cunt slowly swallowed his thick length. You closed your eyes and thought of Frankie as you began to roll your hips. Your heart was racing. 

He moaned nearly silently as you fucked yourself on his massive cock. You got wetter and wetter. You could feel Frankie’s presence. You could practically smell his scent wafting off of Tom. You could feel the ghost of Frankie’s hands on your ass and practically hear his whispers in your ear. Should’ve ridden his face, he said in your head and you breathed out a laugh as you rode him.

You let out a sigh and Tom shuddered. You imagined Frankie’s brown eyes looking deep into yours, and your walls twitched around Tom’s cock. You whimpered as you came. 

“Fuck,” Tom murmured through gritted teeth as you choked his cock.Then he erupted inside you. You groaned as his warm spend flooded your core. 

-

When you were finished, you sat there on his cock and you both read each other’s faces. He knew his time was up. You took the safety off the gun. 

“What a way to go,” Tom muttered in resignation. He winced as you squeezed him with an aftershock.

“You took him from me, Tom.” 

“I know, honey,” he agreed. “It’s okay. Kid's better off with the life insurance.” 

The next few seconds felt like minutes. Your heart raced and you could see Tom’s heartbeat in his neck. 

Tom took a deep breath. “Just put it in my mouth.” He nodded. “And pull the trigger,” he whispered. 

His gaze was apologetic as the muzzle once again nudged his lips. He closed his eyes with his softening cock still sheathed in your warmth.  You didn’t feel a thing as the hammer clicked under your thumb.

-----

-----

Thank you for reading!

my main masterlist

#triple frontier fanfiction #Tom Davis x reader #triple frontier smut #triple frontier write a thon #triple frontier anniversary #Tom “Redfly” Davis x reader #female reader #tw noncon #tw rape #tw violence #tw main character death #tw suicidal adjacent thinking #toxicanonymity ☠️ #dark reader #triplefrontier #triplefrontier2019 #dark!reader

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[moodymisty]

little lorgar angst

lorgar mortal lover who manages to give him peace and love. who helps him to heal from the shit kor phareon did to him. Who acts as a positive influence on both him and the legion to the point she's beloved by even his own sons. Who manages to stir him down a path that will see monarchia and all the tradgidy born from that event never happen. And because all that will ruin the plans of Erebus and Kor, they have her killed. Thinking they will get away with this assassination. only Lorgar knows. somehow he knows it was them. So does the entire legion. And for the first time, he feels such ahtred and anger for his father... How dare they take away that which gave him such comfort? And gods help them once the rest of the legion learns their beloved mother was taken from them... Just this utter sense of quiet cold rage...

I personally always write that the main sticking point as to why someone doesn't just kill their beloved at any point is simply that, you're going to have a primarch on a rampage coming right for you. And including a legion that liked her too? The carnage that takes place would make other events pale in comparison.

I would imagine that they manage to do it while Lorgar is off planet. Either they manage to overpower the defenses he has protecting her, or they hire an assassin more than capable of sneaking by. Perhaps Erebus does it himself, he's the type.

Lorgar ends up finding out via vox, when he's light years away from Colchis. Whatever was being done is left in the hands of one of his commanders and a small fleet of marines, and he turns the Fidelitas Lex back towards Colchis. The ship is basically silent the entire time. the legion had actually begun warming up to her quite a bit, and to see their Primarch in shambles (held together for now but he's clearly cracking at the seams), it turns them all into angry, vengeful, mourning astartes; Ones eager to act upon their Primarch's orders for retribution.

When he gets back, Kor Phaeron or Erebus, perhaps both, would find it key to quickly redirect Lorgar to whoever the 'murderer' is. If they can't and Lorgar figures out it was them, I imagine it would take quite a bit for them to convince him to not wipe the floor with their heads. Though I doubt they'd be able to, given his extremely mercurial nature.

The Word Bearers end up in shames, and it's unknown if they'll ever truly recover. The other legions can only watch on and take heed.

#Misty's book club #tw main character death #technically? #primarch x reader #lorgar x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #The Lorgar Aurelian family drama plotline

[preyandhunter]

Hey Guys 👀… New AU time????

In a world of blood and shadows… the ghouls, man-eating monsters wearing the faces of humans prowl the night, wary of the white-clad humans, the Doves, who stalk the daylight. The fragile status quo is raptured when an ill timed murder of on innocent pro-ghoul human launches the city of Hermittopia into a bloodbath that rapidly spirals into a war front. The multi-fic series will explore the ways a number of individuals’ paths intersect with each other and weigh on the story, between parties pro-ghoul, anti-ghoul, and several shades of neutral alike.

ao3: Come Read!

———

We are proud to be presenting, “To Be The Prey, To Be The Hunter” au a.k.a “Prey&HunterAU” (see: tags) this was developed recently under the machinations of several users including

@evilrat-sabre !!!!

@monosminecraftmania !!!!

And @azzayofchaos !!!

If you want additional details for this au then please @evilrat-sabre for a link to their discord, for sneak peaks at the ghoul thread.

———

Warning:

Tokyo ghoul feature very dark themes, Hermitcraft is usually silly and light-hearted. We will have some dark and we will have some silly, but if it’s something you don't vibe with, it’s okay to look the other way. This entire au is just some friends having fun.

General TW for Cannibalism, main character death, blood, gore, and gray morality

———

^us making this au (drawing by mod Zay! (That’s me tee he))

Organization for this blog:

(Coming soon I hope…)

#prey&hunters #theghoulera #phau #<main tags #the ghoul era #hermitcraft ghoul #<additional tags #mod rat #mod box #mod zay #<who made which post #tw cannibalism #tw blood #tw gore #tw themes of death #tw themes of grief #tw main character death #tw death #<tw tags (specifics can be altered!) #Hemitcraft #Hemitcraft au #Tokyo ghoul

[ask-team-rainbow-gti]

A leaked video file… Watch it?

Everything was going to plan so far. Axel and Blitzle had completed their daily missions with aplomb, Axel had managed to subtly convince the zebra to come up onto the top of Post Town right as the sun was setting, and Petal had ensured that no one was there to ruin their little moment.

Despite that, however, Axel's heart couldn’t stop beating ever faster. Everytime he looked over to his partner, he felt another pang of nerves hit him right in the chest. Nerves alongside feelings of love and admiration, of course. Those feelings weren’t so bad. They were the reason he was even up here in the first place.

As the last rays of sunshine faded over the Great Glacier in the distance, Axel knew that it was time to stop stalling. Enough waiting. He just had to say it. Just tell Blitzle how he felt, right? Be honest. That’s what everyone had been telling him to do, right?

Right as Axel gathered the courage to break the tentative silence that had come to rest over the founding members of Team Rainbow, however, he managed to talk over Blitzle, who apparently also had something on their mind.

“So-” Axel tried to begin.

“Axel-” Blitzle said, as they accidentally interrupted each other. They broke eye contact hastily, a blush appearing on both of their cheeks. 

“You first.” Axel said, trying to recover. Blitzle probably just wanted to ask about tomorrow's mission, or future Paradise plans, or something.

“No, no, that’s ok. You can talk.” Blitzle said, a little too quickly. Axel wondered what that could be about. Still, if Blitzle insisted, then Axel supposed it was his turn to talk. He took a deep breath, and let it out.

“Blitzle,” he began quietly, hands trembling. This was hard. “It’s been really nice building Paradise with you. These last few weeks have been amazing. I can’t remember having so much fun in all my life. Going on missions with the team, building up Paradise to be really something special, and most of all, being around you.” 

Axel locked eyes with Blitzle. It was now or never. Too late to stop what was coming. The words had already formed on his lips by the time he realized what he was saying. 

“Blitzle, I’m in love with you.” 

…

A pause. 

It seemed unbearably long to Axel, despite only lasting a few seconds. 

Blitzle sat there next to Axel with a dumbfounded look on his face, which slowly broke into a wide grin. “Really?” They asked, eyes wide.

Axel didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t exactly been sure what he was supposed to expect here, but this wasn’t it. “Yeah, really.” He confirmed with an exaggerated nod of his head.

“I came up here to tell you the same thing!” Blitzle exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “I mean, I never expected that you’d feel the same, but I just needed to get it off my chest, and man, this is so cool, I thought maybe you being a human you wouldn’t want that, but I guess I was wrong, and I’m so happy that I was wrong about it, and man you’re just so cool and awesome and-” The electric zebra ranted, speaking so fast that Axel could hardly understand what was being said. Of course, Axel had stopped listening when Blitzle had admitted to feeling the same way.

“Blitzle...” Axel cut in, seeing that Blitzle was getting a little worked up again. 

Blitzle stopped talking immediately, focusing back in on Axel. The two seemed to have gotten shockingly close together. Their faces were almost touching now. When had that happened? Did either of them care? Certainly not right now. 

“Please. Call me Zephyr.” Zephyr said quietly, revealing a name that had remained so elusive to Axel. The ultimate sign of trust between pokemon.

“Zephyr…” Axel said, his eyes tearing up as he did so. This was everything he’d wanted and more. He felt like his heart was about to burst. Should he go for it? Go in for the kiss? Zephyr appeared to be contemplating the same thing, after all.

That’s when things went wrong. 

An unnatural chill filled the air, which made the cold sensitive Axew shiver. Shouldn’t it still be warm at this time of day? It wasn’t even winter yet. 

A cold mist shrouded the previously beautiful scene in a hazy fog, which made the two newfound lovers break away from each other, looking around in confusion. 

“Hey, Zephyr, what’s going on?” Axel asked, getting nervous once again. 

A different kind of nervousness than before. 

A terrified sort of nervous. Anxious, even. This wasn’t natural.

The shivering Axew and jumpy Blitzle looked to each other one more time, before whipping around to notice a large figure towering behind them. 

A piercing roar echoed over the scenic cliffside and throughout the town, sending waves of terror through Axel’s spine. 

Was this what he’d been sent here to stop? To defeat this creature? Kyurem? 

Axel knew then that he didn’t stand a chance. That he’d be gone soon enough. He'd been foolish to think he could live happily in this world.

The video abruptly cut as Kyurem launched a massive icicle spear directly towards Axel.

#tw main character death #tw implied death #//asjkhdasjh I am evil and so sorry #axel speaks #rotomblr #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #pokemon irl #pmd gti

[mixsethaddams]

Flinching

Day 2 for @febuwhump. (Yes I know I'm late I'm catching up. I'll add all these to ao3 soon too, I just have something fun I want to post on there before I do.)

Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson

Words: 1325.

Warnings for Eddie having abusive childhood and having PTSD from being beaten, general mentions of abuse, major character death

Being a drug dealer had its upsides, supposed Eddie. 

Everyone already expected you to be twitchy and if you overreacted to a sudden movement then it was easy to pass it off as just trying to get your stash back in your pocket. 

The day Eddie was dropped off at his uncle’s trailer, he had a panic attack. 

Wayne put a hand on the boy’s shoulder while they stood in the doorway, waving off the CPS worker who had driven him there. Eddie knew what a hand on the shoulder meant. He knew that the second anyone else was out of sight or earshot, the hand would grip tight like a claw and hold him in place while he was punished for whatever it was he had done wrong. Eddie was so sure that his uncle would be different. Wayne wouldn’t be anything like Momma, right? That’s what they told him.

His stomach dropped when he felt the hand rest on his shoulder. Maybe this was just how all the adults in his life would be. Eddie felt the beads of sweat start to roll down the back of his neck. He frantically scanned through his memory of the last two hours, arriving at the trailer, talking to the CPS lady, greeting Wayne. He had been polite. He didn’t spill his water. He said ‘Please’ when he asked if he could refill his glass. Oh fuck, he hadn’t said ‘Thank you’. That was it, that what he would be getting beat for. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, his mouth dry despite the two glasses of water that he should have fucking said thank you for. Wayne closed the door and his hand squeezed Eddie’s shoulder. It was softer than what Momma would have done but it sent the bile to the back of his throat regardless. His head was swimming. Wayne looked much stronger than his Momma and his hands were much bigger. Maybe he wouldn’t use his hands. He might use something else. Eddie’s eyes strayed to the big buckle on his uncle’s belt. His knees gave out and he fell to the floor.

Wayne dropped to the ground next to him and Eddie couldn’t hear anything over the sounds of his own voice, crying for mercy for whatever what about to come. The blood was rushing in his ears and he already had his arms over his head to protect himself. 

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I swear I’m sorry. 

Eddie felt himself being held tight and for a split second he thought he was being choked. It wasn’t until he heard Wayne’s voice directly in his ear that he stopped his stream of apologies. 

Shhh now, shhhh, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, you let that all out now, come on, you’ll feel better after you’re done

Eddie was sobbing so hard he was gagging. He couldn’t see through the tears in his eyes. Wayne manoeuvred him into a proper sitting position and stroked his back until he stopped retching. There was a migraine building right behind his eyes from crying. Wayne was still talking. Telling him how they could stay right here on the ground for as long as he needed to, they could open the door back up for some fresh air if Eddie wanted, that he was safe now.

The summer sky was streaked with pink and orange by the time Eddie calmed down enough to look at Wayne. True to his word, he had stayed right alongside his nephew on the ground the whole time. His hand’s rhythmic circling on his back never once stalled. Eddie’s breath was still jagged but he felt more grounded now. Wayne smiled when Eddie lifted his head, and slid a hand onto his shoulder. 

Eddie yelped and jumped back like a scalded dog. He held his knees to his chest and pressed his back into the chair behind him. Wayne’s brow furrowed, and quickly put the pieces together. He swore to never put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder again, if that’s what he needed. Eddie was too afraid to say yes, but he didn’t need to. Wayne nodded his head, gave a soft Promise you, boy, won’t happen again, and they both fell back into silence.

They stayed on the floor until the next morning. 

The first time Wayne was called to the school to collect Eddie was only six months later. He had gotten into a fight. Some other boy had clapped a hand on his shoulder and made fun of him when he flinched away. When they got back home, Wayne sighed and said that he couldn’t lie, he was disappointed, that Eddie should just run when he’s scared, there’s no shame in running, you hear me? Wayne made the mistake of moving towards him a little too quickly as he spoke. Eddie passed out. 

Eddie knew his uncle was nothing like his Momma. He was nothing like his Pops either, or what he could remember of him. Wayne didn’t slam doors so hard the windows cracked, or scream at him for crying when he was upset. Didn’t take Eddie out of his bed in the middle of the night to steal a car that they told him was for money to buy food, even though the fridge stayed empty anyway. He stayed scared for a long time but Wayne guided him through the fog as best he could. 

It took them a few years to figure out all of Eddie’s little triggers. Some were obvious. Eddie would wince if someone told Wayne to keep that boy in check after he played his music too loud. Some were more subtle. Beer cans left in the sink would bring a memory of saving cans to bring to the junk yard in exchange for pennies. That’s usually what Momma did buy food with. They learned together how to go through life with Eddie’s childhood hanging over them like a dark cloud. They talked a lot, spoke out loud when they were puttering around the house, narrating movements despite how small the trailer was. This way, Eddie wouldn’t be surprised when he turned around and saw Wayne behind him, and Wayne could make sure Eddie wouldn’t bump into him by accident. Even so, there was a day when Eddie was eighteen, he swung his school backpack off his shoulder without realising that Wayne was so close behind him. The action knocked a coffee cup out of his uncle’s hands. Eddie wet himself in terror. 

He was never fully free of it. Eddie leaned into the shaky drug dealer vibe as much as he could. It was easier than thinking up some other lie as to why he twitched like a cat at every sharp movement. He let himself flourish his hands and swing his hair to cover up little quivers when someone’s voice got too loud. Whenever he was scared, he ran, just like his uncle told him to. Right up until he didn’t.

The first time Wayne touched Eddie’s shoulder again since that first day was when he saw him in his coffin. Animal attack, they told him. Wayne knew better. He didn’t live all these years in Hawkins to think that a bearwas the biggest thing in those woods. Some kids came and told him that Eddie had saved their lives. They had insisted that the right people go collect his body from the site of the supposed animal attack so he could have the send-off he deserved. He needs to be treated like the hero that he was, they told him. Wayne fixed Eddie’s hair so it rested around his face in the way he knew he’d like. He reached down and put a hand on his boy’s shoulder and bent to kiss his forehead, feeling the cool skin against his lips. 

I’m proud of you, Eddie, I am so damn proud of you.

#febuwhump2023 #febuwhump #febuwhumpday2 #eddie munson #wayne munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things #tw childhood abuse #seth writes #tw mcd #tw main character death

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

GET HIM TO SWAP OUR PLACES

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Alt Ending | Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, major character death, bleeding, depression, ptsd, children, single parents, poor childhoods

Summary: after Eddie's death hits you like a shockwave, you aren't sure what to do that will make you feel whole again

Wordcount: 3.3k

You'd held him in your arms, screaming until your voice was sore. Your clothes were stained with his blood and your hand were soaked red. 

When Steve Nancy and Robin came over, they couldn't believe rhe sight in front of them. They hadn't expected ro see you sobbing and holding Eddie's lifeless body. 

Robin had knelt by your side and you looked up at her, your eyes red and puffy from crying and your whole body shaking. She placed a hand on your shoulder snd you just continued to cry. 

Steve had pulled Dustin up, the young boy sobbing into his shoulder. Steves eyes were still trained on Eddie's vacant face. He almost expected him to look up at him, a smirk on his face as he questioned why Steve would ever imagine him dead. He hated ro admit it, but he missed Eddie. 

Then the ground started ro shake and they remembered why they had came back in the first place. They had ro leave. They didnr know what was going to happen now that vecna was dead and they decided ro leave. 

"We've gotta go," Steve said, his voice choked up, almost like he hated ro say the words because he knew both you and Dustin were grieving. 

"I can't leave him here," you said through your sobs, your voice breaking as you looked down at eddie. 

You couldn't stop looking at him, the reality finally setting in that he wasn't coming home. 

"I've got him," Steve said as he pulled away from Dustin, coming down to your side as he placed his hand on your shoulder, "You've got to let him go,"

You sobbed, your hand going to reach for the guitar pick necklace he had grasped in his hand. 

You couldn't imagine letting him go, of ever taking your hands away from him. You reluctantly let Steve jail him up, the man, with the help of Nancy, dragging his body away from you. 

You couldn't hold in your sobs at the sight, the warm tears streaming down your face as you watched the two pull jom away from you and you reached out with one hand, almost like it was going to bring him back. 

"Come on, we've got to go," Robin said and that was the moment tou realised you were shaking and your legs felt like jelly, you were so in shock that you were sure you wouldn't be able to walk out.

Two days later you had to pretend that everything was normal, that you were okay. 

Your mum had died in the 'earthquakes'. She had visited Wayne, left Anna with him and then drove to the trailer park to stop you from doing whatever you wanted to do. 

She didn't make it and you only found out yesterday. You lost everything within 24 hours.  

You walked into the school hall, sucking in a deep breath as you looked around. Everything reminded you of him. The walls where he graffitied corroded coffins on when he didn't graduate - which the two of you were then forced to clean up over the weekend. The bleachers where you had snuck in during sophomore year to make out. 

You held in your tears as you looked around, feeling the emptiness of the room. Everyone seemed cheery, upset over the events, but they seemed like they were holding it together. They didn't know of the sacrifice your boyfriend had given to this town, they never would. 

Dustin stood by the door, holding Anna in a baby carrier next to him. You had wanted a second alone to take it all in and he had offered to look after her for a minute. 

It was almost like she knew her father wasn't here anymore. She was restless, unable to go to sleep and you wondered if it was because he wasn't there. Whenever she'd be unable to sleep, he would get up and just hold her and it wasn't the same anymore, you weren't able to comfort her in the same way. 

You were living with Dustin and his mother Claudia who you knew from when she babysat you as a child and then when you would babysit Dustin and Will when they were children. 

She had welcome you in and you were so glad she had given you a place to stay. Wayne had moved into a friend's house and you hadn't spoken to him since the accident, you could face him. 

You looked at your little girl. She had a smile on her face, the same dimples as her father and when you looked at her, you could almost see him. 

She had curly and unruly hair already growing on the top of her head, similar to her fathers that she always used to love. Sometimes you would gently run a finger over her hair, the texture just like Eddie. He always used to say that when she had enough hair, he was going to style it just like his and you would laugh and shake your head. 

They had the same big brown eyes and it was just like looking in his eyes again. You used to joke that despite the fact that you carried this child, she looked nothing like you and he would just shake his head, muttering that she was nearly as beautiful as you were. 

You only had four months with the three of you and it wasn't enough time. There was not enough memory, not enough videos of him in the morning rocking her back to sleep or enough photos of the three of you. 

"He wouldn't shut up about you," Steve said, smiling to himself, "It was kind of annoying actually," 

"Really?" You asked, tears burning in the back of your eyes but you pushed the away, you had cried too much in the last two days. 

"He talked about you like you had hung the stars. He'd tell me that one day I'd find it too, a family," he explained. 

You couldn't speak, your throat too dry as you looked away from him. You didn't want everyone to think you're an emotional wreck. 

Steve could see how much you were hurting and he felt awful that he hadn't been able to save Eddie. He reached over, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

"He really loved the two of you and he made me promise that if he didn't make it out that I'd make sure you two were okay," Steve explained. 

"Thanks Steve," you said, upset. 

You looked over to Dustin who was sitting on the bench, playing peekaboo with Anna in her carrier. 

“I'm gonna go sort my stuff out, see what I can donate,” you said, a half hearted smile on your face as you picked up the two big boxes, waddling into an empty classroom. 

You recognised it instantly, Miss Clicks class. You had shared this room with Eddie and knew that he had been here ever since. You dropped the boxes off at her desk before walking over to his desk, sitting down. 

You looked down at the table, breath hitching in your throat as you saw a small heart carved into the corner, your initial and his drawn inside. You remember that was senior year and you had dared him to do that, you didnt realise it was still there. You choked out a laugh, tears welling in your eyes as your fingers traced the indent. 

You got back up again, walking over to the desk and beginning to sort out the boxes. 

You hadn't looked through the boxes yet, it had been too painful but you were beginning to think that you should have done that in a more private place because now, in the middle of your old high school classroom didn't feel right. 

This was some stuff from evidence that they had taken and stuff that you had managed to salvage from the wreckage of your trailer. Years of memories had been destroyed in a matter of seconds and this was all you had left, three boxes. 

You found miscellaneous polaroids that you were cherishing. Just looking at his face again made you feel warm, just looking at his smile made you feel that it was all okay. 

There was one of him getting his bat tattoo and you chuckled to yourself, thinking about how ironic it was seeing as that was what led to his fateful end. He had a wide grin on his face as he sat in the chair, pointing at the tattoo. 

You didn't want to relive all these memories because you kept thinking about the fact that there were going to be no more memories with the two of you. 

Then you pulled out his hellfire shirt, it was cold but as you looked at it, you could almost see him wearing it, coming home from a long campaign and throwing his bag to the side and just pulling you into his arms, whispering 

You could almost see him making it back in your junior year, holding up a sketch to you as you studied for midterms. You had laughed, throwing a muffin at him as you scolded him for not revising for this, ‘it was important’ you had said and he had just sighed, picking up a pile of flashcards as he rolled his eyes. 

You could almost see him in it the day you told him you were pregnant. He had stumbled in on you in the bathroom holding the test after he'd gotten back from school. He had fallen to his knees next to you and you had scrunched your hands into the shirt, both of you silent as you figured out what to do. 

You could almost see him on that fateful day last week as you sat in your car, him wearing that shirt, his leather jacket and denim jacket. You should have skipped school that day, you should have held him tighter, you should have kissed him once more before he walked through those doors. 

The regrets could go on forever on what you should have done. You could drown in your own thoughts of what you could have done instead that would have had a different outcome but it would just drive you mad. 

You sobbed, falling to the floor in the middle of an empty classroom, holding his hellfire shirt against your chest, it still smelt like him. 

One hand went up to grab the guitar pick necklace that was around your neck and you thought about him. The grief was overwhelming and you felt like you were drowning in it as you were surrounded by all that was left of him.

Dustin walked in and froze, feeling like he shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be the one who had to see you sobbing on the floor, your face buried into an old hellfire shirt. 

He felt like it was all his fault, that he should never have called you, that he never should have gone to find Eddie because maybe if he hadn't, you two would be standing here together, upset about the earthquake like everyone else but thankful that you are here. Maybe he would be alive. 

The regret and the guilt was weighing him down, making his heart feel heavy in his chest as he looked at a widow. He never understood what people meant when they talked about soulmates but thinking back to you and Eddie, he was the other half of you and now you were a broken shell of yourself. 

He knelt down next to you, wrapping his arms around you and you just kept sobbing, your voice broken and painful as you cried out for Eddie. He wasn't here and you were broken. 

You may have survived the upside down, but a piece of you died with Eddie, the biggest piece of you. You were never going to be the same person again. 

"I'm sorry," Dustin said because he was truly sorry. 

He wondered if he should have just left the two of you out of it because maybe if he had, Eddie would be here right now and the three of you would be okay. 

After you had managed to calm down, you walked back out with him to see Anna sitting next to Wayne, the older man smiling sadly at the baby. 

You knew you were going to have to talk to him but you were scared of what he was going to say. 

“Hi Wayne,” you said when you saw the man sitting alone, holding the missing poster in his hand. 

You didn't know how he had felt about all of this, you had been too afraid to talk to him but now that he knew Eddie was dead and that you had been there when he had died, you felt that you owed it to him. 

He looked up at you, tears in his eyes as he looked between you and the sleeping baby in the carrier next to you. He gave you a half hearted smile, neither of you knowing what to say as you sat down next to him. 

“I'm sorry I didn't come tell you, I just needed to wrap my head around it first,” you said and it was true, you weren't sure how you were going to tell him that his nephew is dead without exposing the upside down and putting him in danger. 

"It's okay kid," he said with a half hearted smile before looking down at Anna, "She looks just like him doesn't she?"

You nodded, words getting caught in your throat, "She does, she smiles just like him," You said, tears welling up in your eyes again but you pushed them down, knowing you can't break into sobs again. 

"I miss him so much," you said and he nodded.

"Me too kid, me too," he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, unsure how to comfort you. 

After your heart to heart with Wayne, you decided to head home, not ready to be around everyone again. 

You walked out, holding the baby carrier in your left hand and a box in the other, Dustin was behind you, holding two boxes as you approached your car. 

He put them in, pulling you into a hug before he walked off, promising to see you at home. You stood there, putting the last box in before you heard someone call your name. 

“Mrs Munson!’ they then called out and you froze. You had never legally been Mrs Munson but it always felt like you were, deep down. 

Eddie had always talked about marrying you. He was saving up money for a nice ring and you were going to get married in a nice open space. It was going to be only close friends and family and you didn't want a white dress, maybe a cream or ivory. Everyone that mattered was going to be there, his uncle, your mother, Dustin, Anna of course, some of his band mates, one or two of your friends. Now you didnt get any of that. 

You turned and saw Eleanor Carver, the older mother of Jason Carver. She was a tall blonde woman with streaks of grey through her perfectly done up hair and you sighed. 

“If you are here to call Eddie a satanist too, I don't want to hear it,” you said, buckling Anna into the car, not looking at the woman. 

“My son died,” she stated.

“And I’m sorry for that, but I’ve got to go,” you said as you turned back to her, putting on a forced smile as you walked towards the drivers side of the car.

“I don't think he killed that girl,” she said and you froze, turning on your heel hesitantly to look at the woman.

“You don't?” you questioned, eyes narrowed at her.

“No,” Eleanor said, taking a deep breath, “And I'm sorry that my son has been terrorising your family, had been,” she chuckled to herself, shaking her head as she looked back at you, “Its difficult talking about them in the past tense now isn't it,” 

“Thank you,” you said.

“I hope they find him,” Eleanor said and you froze, breath hitching in your throat. 

She didn't know that he was dead and that you had buried him in an unmarked grave in the middle of the god damn woods. That you didn't get to say a final goodbye as Steve Harrington dug a grave for the love of your life, the man crying the whole time but not letting anyone see. 

“I hope they find him too, cause he didn't do it and i've had enough of people verbally abusing me and my daughter about it,” you said almost bitterly, shaken due to the fact that you remembered they all thought your Eddie was still alive. 

“I can talk to the church about it, I’ve got some friends on the PTA who think he's a criminal, I'll tell them to stop,” she said and you looked at her, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Why are you being so nice to me Mrs Carver?” you questioned.

“Because I was young when i had my eldest whos long gone now in California, and I know how hard it can be,” she explained and you didn't know that she had another child that wasn't Jason, he must have left years ago.

You looked back at Anna who was sleeping soundly in the car and you remember the drive back from the hospital when you sat next to her the whole way back and Eddie drove so slow you were worried you were going to get a reverse speeding ticket. 

“Does it get any better? Losing them?” you asked, the words getting stuck in your throat. 

“It gets better dear, but it never goes away,” Eleanor said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I’ll be praying for you,”

She was about to turn away and you spoke up, “I'm not Mrs Munson you know,” you said and she looked back at you, “It's just Y/L/N, we never got the chance,”

“You don't need to be married to be his wife you know, I think he'd want you to have the name,” she said with an earnest smile before turning away and walking off. 

You knew Eddie always hated being connected to his father with the last name but he had learnt to love it because it was your daughter's name, his mother's name. 

His mother had been called Anna too. She had died when he was about five and now Anna was going to grow up without a parent as well. 

As you sat in the front seat of your car, your hands on the steering wheel as you looked at the sleeping Anna through the mirror, you thought that although you wanted to swap places with Eddie, you could learn to live in this life without him. 

It would hurt every single day and you were sure you'd never get used to the aching feeling in your chest but you hoped that you'd eventually learn to live again and you'd never forget the love you would always have for Eddie Munson

That you'd always remember the little moments with him like holding his hand in the supermarket or him holding Anna in his arms or your time at school together. 

You hoped you'd always remember details about him, like the way the sun would hit his face in the early mornings or the way he always tasted of cigarettes and mint gum or the distinct texture of his hair. 

You would never stop loving Eddie Munson but you were going to have to learn to live without him. 

A/N, I didn't like this chapter and the way i wrote it but I wanted to get the chapter out. There is going to be an alternate ending where eddie lives and I'll post that before the end of next week :) also thank you so much for reading. This was sort of a guilty pleasure write so it been great to see how many notes and how much reception I've gotten.

Taglist:

If you want to be added just message me or send me and ask or comment, I don't mind

@casteel4evr @plutoneu @0000-lover-girl @kik51199 @xx-hospitalforsouls-xx-blog @eddiesskittle @egobitch @ellathefriendlyalpacaaa @vintagemoss @n-slayaaaaa @ems-alexandra @nightless @heartyhope @jonkentsglasses @natashaashleymarvelromanoff @httpjiikook @xandrahowell

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things eddie #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #joseph quinn #joe quinn #eddie munson x fem!reader #fem!reader #tw pregnancy #tw main character death #eddie munson x wife!reader #mj writes nonsense #running up that hill series

[hopelesshawks]

Angst/Hurt no comfort idea:

When person A starts coughing up flowers they know what it means and who they’re coughing up flowers for. They also have no intention to fuck around and find out. When the choice is “definitely dying by way of slowly choking on flowers” or “maybe dying by way of slowly choking on flowers, but maybe not and actually getting true love or whatever instead” well that’s kind of a no brainer. So they resolve to tell person B about how they’re feeling pretty soon after.

Except they keep choking when the time comes (no pun intended)

Multiple times they work up the courage to tell person B how they feel and multiple times they end up chickening out at the last minute. So finally one day they resolve to really, truly do it for real. They’re gonna confess. No backing out.

But on their way over to person B, person A gets a call letting them know there’s been an accident or incident of some kind and person B has passed away.

And now not only has person A lost this person they love with their whole being, but they also are stuck with the knowledge there’s no way for them to cure their hanahaki without medical intervention. Which leaves them with an impossible choice:

Let the flowers grow until they die an excruciating death or allow a team of doctors to surgically remove the plant and in doing so remove every feeling they’ve ever had for person B, thus tainting the memories person A has left

#hanahaki #hawks talks #tw main character death #like it’s not like this is a fic but tagging you be safe

[raydiationpoisoning]

Patrick Anton Tollie 1899-1932

Standing Pat 1932-

#tw blood #tw crime scene #tw main character death #tw police #tw injury #tw death #oc #original character #oc art #digital art #standing pat #patrick tollie

[arthurtaylorlester]

asunder, a malevolent ficlet

crossposted on ao3

warnings: major character death, graphic depictions of torture, murder, just like. stabbing someone, across their whole body and like their bones from inside and stuff. you should be fine if you've listened to malevolent, i think.

inspired by this post

“Don’t you fucking dare die on me— stay with me, you fucking asshole—”

Everything was falling apart far too quickly. John knew they were doomed to suffer this fate, but he didn’t expect it to all come crashing down so quickly. His tears still stained Arthur’s face, who had fallen quiet, almost as if he were falling asleep to the melody of John’s incoherent babbling. 

“Arthur, no, wait please, don’t you fucking do this– you didn’t have to go through with it, you didn’t need to do this to yourself, to me–” John pleaded, “We can find some other way to get me a body, I never wanted this, just please listen.” 

Arthur giggles, reeling and raising a hand to wipe John's tears away. 

His face was stained red, redder than it had been previously from the blood rushing to his face. His hand had been clutching his ragged shirt, pressing desperately on the wound the King had opened again, attempting to stop the bleeding. 

Out of nowhere, blinding pain, again, and this time, John felt it too. 

His eyes went next. 

Multiple dagger-like fingers dug deep into their eye-sockets, reaching the roots of the eye and tugging, carelessly pulling to remove every single inch of the organ, depriving John of sight. 

“You fucking idiot, why did you agree to his deal, Arthur, why? Why would you do this to yourself, you don’t deserve this.”

“Shh, John, be quiet, ah, it’s ok, you’re gonna be fine, you can go back to Arkham with your new body, and– fuck," Arthur shushed him as though comforting a child being left at kindergarten for the first time. “You can live back at Arkham, no one will recognise you and you can go to the movies, ha, John, you can go to the movies whenever you want, just a few more moments.”

“Stop,” sobbed John, “stop talking, why are you doing this to me? why couldn’t you just stay?” 

Another stab, through the arm this time, John’s arm, pinning them to the top floor. 

The King laughed, but his words escaped the both of them. 

He was gasping now, worse than in pain, unable to keep any blood from flowing out and soaking his already stained shirt. 

Unable to wipe away John's tears. 

He was still talking, still begging Arthur to stop this madness, to tell the King he didn’t want this, even if he knew there was no stopping him now. 

He asked, not pleading, why? Why did you agree? why did you agree to kill yourself? Why are you doing this for me? I don't need a body, I never have, I need you.

“Shhh, shut up, John, just listen? listen, ok? I have to–“ he winced, “I have to tell you something, fuck, something important.”

He was struggling with every word now, the King piercing through his flesh faster and more often, and the blinding, searing, pain–

“What? what, Arthur, be quiet, stop talking, we can still get out of here, we can make it somewhere else, I can see an opening, a small covering–“

Arthur hushed John again, and for a second, the world stilled. 

The King was still tearing Arthur's body apart, breaking bones and tearing organs apart, twisting them, but keeping Arthur alive, to make him feel the pain of having a part of you ripped apart from his very being.

Arthur took a breath with what was left of his lungs. 

Breathing burned, or perhaps it always had. He couldn’t tell anymore. Had he always been blind, perhaps? Had John, had the madness of it all, always been there? Maybe it had been lurking, in the corners of his mind his eyes had never reached. Maybe it was all in his head, a dream,  and he would wake soon. 

No, Arthur thought, his (John’s) left arm having gotten free and reaching erratically to keep Arthur’s guts inside his (their) body, No, no, I’d miss him too much, he’s real, he’s real, he’s real, he’s real–

He could vaguely feel the King smashing his hands, his pianist's fingers, piercing through the thin flesh with impossibly sharp fangs. He felt the muscle of his legs loosely cling to his bones, his tibia being fractured, bent almost entirely bent the wrong way. 

At the same time, he felt multiple of his ribs crack, one by one. But not by any physical object, the King was using his mind to contort, snap, every single shard of Arthur’s body. 

He gathered John must have lost all vision, as his eye sockets felt empty, rendered useless cavities. 

He looked much like a rapidly decaying corpse, being feast for mycelium and bugs alike. But he felt like one too, he understood, slowly, why the King was doing all this. It wasn’t necessary, not in the slightest to mutilate, no mangle, someone’s body like this, to free them from a mere fragment of a god.

The King was doing this for wretched pleasure. 

But Arthur had agreed, with reckless bravery he’d agreed. Yes, consume me, if you must, to free John, he deserves this. 

Deserved what, to be exact? 

To witness his best friend be torn asunder by his former self, to weep and plead and beg for Arthur to do something, to stop it all, to pull through a last time. 

Arthur knew he was selfish, but he tried to chuckle, this was a bit much even for him. He couldn’t feel the pain anymore, perhaps the King was near to finished, bored now of playing with his food, it becomes a mess very quickly, after all. 

He was lying in a pool of his own blood, guts and gore, still pinned to the rock beneath him by John’s arm, but moving would’ve been unimaginable either way, he was shattered. 

He found himself far too numb to care. He felt like sand, threading loosely through the hands of what he dared to try and comprehend. He just let John know, let him know the truth, before he slipped away for good. 

“I love you. Now say it back.” 

“Please— stop talking, save it till we get you help—” 

“Say it back—”

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much, please don’t leave me—”

#malevolent #malevolent podcast #unhinged aromantics #arthur lester #arthur lester malevolent #arthur malevolent #malevolent arthur #john doe #john doe malevolent #john malevolent #malevolent john #fic #malevolent fic #tw main character death #tw violent imagery #tw graphic description #i've never written anything like this to post so lmk how to tag this better !!! #tumblr fic

[sankta-starkova]

BURN IT DOWN

029; THE END

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

summary: the one where harlow kaz realised that the world was going to end but she decided to try and save it with the people that she cared about, no matter what it takes

wordcount: 2.4k

The second that Jyn and Harlow reached the roof platform, the latter collapsed onto her knees, her hands shaking as she tried to comprehend what had just happened.

But she didn't have time to grieve Cassians' death and instead shook off her terror and took a deep breath, standing on her feet and walking over to the console.

Harlow chuckled to herself when she saw the ships fighting in the sky, trying to save them on Scarif, and for the first time since they landed, she had hope that they'd make it home.

"I knew the Rebellion would come through for us," Jyn said, a smile on her face as she stood next to Harlow at the controls.

Jyn inserted the data pack and it locked on. Then Harlow put the key fob into the system and they both took a deep breath, waiting for it to start transmitting but it never did. 

"Reset antenna alignment," the machine said to the in a robotic voice and Harlow swore under her breath.

She couldn't believe that after everything that they had done, the antenna being in the wrong place was going to ruin it.

Harlow shook her head, tapping furiously on the keyboard and when it alerted her of needing a manual reset, she shook her head, unbuttoning her shirt to reveal her tank top and rolling her sleeves up.

"What are you doing?" Jyn asked, looking at the girl.

"I'm climbing that thing," Harlow said and Jyn knew her enough to recognise that determined look in her eyes. She wasn't going to be able to stop her.

Jyn nodded and Harlow began climbing. She had to keep climbing and climbing because if they didn't get this set back into place then Cassians death meant nothing.

When she reached the top, she took a second, letting the wind rush through her hair before she kicked it back onto place.

"It's locked in," Jyn called up to her and Harlow nodded, beginning her descent back down the antenna.

But as she stated to climb down, she watched the bridge that Jyn was on get blown up by a blast from a tie-fightwr, leaving her hanging on the ledge.

Harlow tried to climb down faster fo help Jyn but she couldn't due to the small footholds on the antenna - she couldn't risk it not aligning again.

"You okay down there?" She called out when she noticed that Jyn had managed ro climb back up.

Over the last week, she had become fast friends with jyn. The two shared a skeptic view of the rebellion but still trusted it wholeheartedly.

"Yeah, I'm plugging it in now," Jyn said and Harlow could hear the machine whirring.

She took a breather, standing at the top of the antenna ladder as she prepared to go back down. They had won, and somehow, she had lost everything. She couldn't help but think about Cassian lying on the floor of the tower.

Harlow was so preoccupied with her daydream that she didn't hear the door opening or the footsteps coming out of it.

But when she did realise, she saw Krennik standing there, "Who are you?" He asked.

As she looked at him, anger boiled in her veins. That was the man who had killed her Cassian. Her future. She wasn't going to let him get away with it.

"You know who I am," Jyn said, looking at him "I'm Jyn Erso, daughter of Galen and Lera, you've lost,"

Harlow began to quicken her climb down and prepared for a sneak attack, knowing that she was going to be coming down on the other side of the antenna.

"Have I?" Krennik questioned, clearly cocky about his invention.

He was like every other person who worked for the empire. They thought they were holier than though, always trying to control a situation and take credit.

But Jyn wasn't going to let him take any credit. Her father had saved the galaxy by building a flaw in the death star and right now, they were the only two who had proof.

"My father's revenge, he built a flaw in the death star and put a flaw in the middle of your machine, and I just told the entire galaxy how to light it," she said.

Jyn smirked when she saw the shock in his eyes even though he didn't change his demeanour at all. She wasn't going to let her father's death be in vain.

Harlow came round the corner, reaching down for her gun before realising that she had left it on the platform when she had climbed up.

"The shield is up, your signal will never reach the base, all your ships in the air will be destroyed," Krennik said, gun aimed at Jyn, "You die with the rebellion,"

Harlow had to think fast, grabbing her knife and throwing it at Krennik but she was roo slow. By th time that it had lodged itself in his chest, he had already shot Jyn.

The confusing thing wasn't that though, there was another blaster hole in his lower abdomen and Harlow turned around, eyes wide when she saw where th shot came from.

Her heart stalled as she looked at him. He had an obvious limp, and she could see the cuts and bruises on his body, but all that she cared about was the fact that he was standing there.

As his gun clattered to the floor, she ran over with all the strength that she could muster and pulled him into a hug, unable to let go as she held him tight.

She had tears in her eyes as she held him, taking a deep breath and imhaling the now fading smell of Cassian. The smell of home.

He winced and she pulled away, hand going up to his face to make sure that he was really there.

"You're alive, you're alive, you're a-" he kept repeating but she froze when she remembered what had happened.

Harlows head whipped around and she rushed over to Jyns body as she lay there, a blaster wound in her stomach.

"Don't die on me Jyn, don't," she said, pressing her hand on the wound even though she knew it wouldn't save her.

Jyns eyes fluttered open and she spluttered slightly, "We saved them," the dying girl said and Harlow looked around.

Just before she had confronted Krennik, she had pressed th button and sent the plans to the entire galaxy. The empire had lost.

"You saved them. Without you, we would have nothing," she said, tears spilling over her cheeks as she looked at the film

"My father saved them," Jyn said, her eyes fluttering open and closed as she took heavy breaths.

Cassian came over, falling to his knees as he sat next to her. Despite the fact that she had annoyed him msor of the time she'd been there, he knew she was a hero to everyone.

"We will make sure they know what the Erso family has done for the galaxy," He said, a smile on her face.

Jyns eyes closed, "My father," she whispered, her voice weak and strained and on the next second. She was dead.

"Jyn, Jyn, shit," Harlow said and Cassian pulled her in for a hug, ignoring the fact that it hurt him. She needed him right no.

They had lost so much on this battle and now Jyn had died too. Harlow didn't know how much mourning one person could take in a life bit she was getting close.

"Lets go," Harlow said, unable to even look at Kyns body anymore.

She stood up, helping Cassian up as well and there was this sinking feeling in her stomach as she realised that she was going to have to leave Jyn here.

She had lost so many people who didn't have proper funerals, who didn't have anyone to mourn them and it was a frightening concept, to know nobody would remember your name.

They started to walk away when she noticed just how much pain he was really in. He might not make it out.

When he had fallen down, he had been dazed for a little while. He had heard her cries for him and her sobs as she kept climbing. He never doubted that she would stop climbing.

When he managed to muster up the strength to follow after her and Jyn, he knew that he had to protect them both from Krennik who had left after he had killed Cassian.

He had ignored the shooting pain through his body as he climbed up, rung by rung, to the top.

He had never been so close to death before. He had gotten himself into scrapes ever since he was young but never had he contemplated just staying there and letting it all go.

All Cassian could think about was Harlow up there and if he could save her and save the world from tyranny, then he would.

"Are you okay?" Harlow asked, breaking him out of his thoughts from his near death experience.

"Everything hurts but I'm not dead so," he said, trying to clear the air.

She looked at him, eyes trailing over his face as she double checked if he was okay. She knew that they would be able to help him when they got back to the rebellion.

"Do you think anybody listening?" He asked.

She smild to herself, she had never heard him say something like that, "I do, someone's out there," she said.

They walked to the elevator and Cassian leant against the wall of it, taking a breath and taking the pressure off of his leg.

He turned his head, eyes fluttering open as she looked at her in the flickering lights; the power had been broken on Scarif by the rebels.

She had always been beautiful to him, from the moment she took her hood off in that warehouse and to now as they stood there, potentially awaiting their deaths.

As Cassian looked at her, studying her face like he would never see her again, he accepted the idea of death for the first time in his life.

He leand over, ignoring the aching in his body as he placed a hand on her cheek, wiping the dirt away.

Cassian kissed her in that elevator as the lights flickered on and off, eyes closed as he took in the moment. It was sweet snd tender as they both relished in the fact that they had each other.

They had both lost everything for the rebellion but as they stood in that elevator, the rest of the world silent, it was just the two of them.

The door opened and he pulled away, her eyelashes fluttering opening against his cheeks. The light flooded into the elevator and they looked out to see it was completely empty.

Harlow let out a breath that she hadn't realised that she had been holding - she had ben horrified that the empire would be waiting for them outside the door, ready to kill them.

But she had been ready for it anyway, to die holding Cassian, with his lips on hers. She had never felt that at peace before.

They started to walk out, ready to find rhe ship and try to find a way out of this planet. With his limp and potentially broken leg, she didn't know how far they'd make it but they'd try.

That's what Nemik had said 5 years ago in his manifesto. That they just needed to try and shed kept that idea ever since. When she'd been stabbed, she tried ro make it out. She always tried.

But when she saw the death star hovering in the distance, her breath caught in her throat. Cassian followed her gaze, letting out a sigh.

"We're too late," she said, her voice almost quiet as she tried to stop the tears from falling.

The ticking clock of death was beginning to chime in her mind, reminding her that she had less than an hour to live.

"I want to go to the beach," cassian said and she looked at him, nodding her heads.

They started walking, his leg almost getting better as he was determined ro make it the short distance to the sand.

She shielded his face from their fallen comrades on the floor as they both realised they may be the only ones tht survived the onslaught.

They both collapsed on the floor as soon as they got there. Harlow hadn't shed a tear since she thought Cassian had died and she wasn't going to now. She was ready to go.

He reached over, hand grabbing hers as he noticed her watching the green flash of lightning hit the horizon and she thought back to the destruction of Jedha.

Her heart was pounding in her chest but she kept her composure, knowing that there was nothing she could do now but die.

She turned to look at him, "Nemik, Cinta, my parents, your parents, Jyn, K2," she said, "They gave everything for this fight, how do we beat this?"

Cassian sat there for a second, thinking about what was going to happen before nodding his head, "The rebellion will find a way, my love," he said, and she nodded, fighting off the tears.

There's nothing else left to say as the horizon began to crumble, the ground pulling away from itself just like it had done in Jedha.

She looked at him one last time, studying the way his face looked because both of them knew tht they'd never see it again.

Harlow didn't regret a thing. She could have easily forgotten Cassian had existed and gone back to working in the senate but she chose him.

She would always choose him and now as she faced her death, she was still choosing him.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her tight against him, wanting to hold her when they died. That was such a surreal thought to Cassian, dying. But now it was inevitable.

She buried her head in his neck, "I love you Kassa," she mumbled, knowing it was the last thing she'd ever say.

"I love you too," he said, eyes going wide as the bright light came closer and closer until it engulfed them completely.

And then, it was just over.

#burn it down; cassian andor #cassian andor #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor fic #cassian andor x fem!oc #cassian andor x kaz!oc #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x reader #diego luna #star wars #cassian andor angst #tw death #tw main character death

[ask-the-royals]

mmmmmfuckTHAT

Dearil didn’t reply to the askers or the anons, too focused on running down the empty halls. No guards were in sight because they were most likely where Hubert’s supposed “body” was. Shadows snaked over Dearil’s body, allowing him to be more agile than his old body would probably allow otherwise.

Hubert couldn’t be dead- he couldn’t be! 

And then Dearil reached the entrance to the castle, his eyes befalling upon the search party.

Damien’s search party.

And speaking of the devil, Damien was standing there, a look of horror across his face. His body was tense and he even took a step back, unable to believe his eyes. He didn’t even have his sword on him, seeming to have run here hastily.

The leader of the search party was mostly hidden and obscured by her armor, including the facial helmet, though she had deep, dark blue eyes. Despite most of her face being obscured, her eyes shone with sympathy and sadness as she was knelt beside a limp body that had been taken out of the nearby carriage.

Dearil pushed his way through the crowd of guards and quickly knelt beside the body. It couldn’t be Hubert! 

No, no, no... 

...it was.

Dearil openly sobbed as he cradled the broken and bruised body of his son. Hubert’s clothes were torn across his chest as though vicious claws sliced through the man’s body like paper. The slash had partially exposed the man’s torso and pectorals. His leg had been torn at the knee, broken tendons and veins clearly evident. His once-perfect hair was so matted with blood that Dearil could hardly believe it was his son, and that wasn’t even counting the torn throat.

But it was him. This was his son.

The king just held Hubert closely as if he was just a baby once again. His heart pounded and tears streamed down his eyes as he cradled his child- his deceased child.

It was horrible to stare down at the body of his child, knowing full-well that kids are meant to outlive their parents... and Hubert never got that chance.

Dearil hardly realized that Dmitri was also there, keeping his distance from his father but staring in horror at his lover’s corpse. This couldn’t be real. This had to be a nightmare...!

“King Galeforce...” Damien spoke up, finally, having broken the silence. He took a wary step forward, his usual intimidating demeanor seeming to have vanished. He extended a hand out to the king but stumbled back when Dearil had slapped it away.

“You.” Dearil suddenly growled and ran a tender hand over his son’s chest wound. “You did this, didn’t you?”

There was a clear hint of venom dripping from his tone, one that Damien had hardly ever heard before. It was bone-chilling to the point that all of the nearby guards had stepped back, and Dmitri stared on in horror, stuck in place.

“I-I didn’t!” Damien sputtered, and for once, he sounded so... unsure. Scared. “I didn’t order them to do this... I had no idea! Please believe m-”

“SILENCE.” Dearil suddenly snapped. The shadows that swarmed his body shot outright, and while they didn’t hurt anyone directly, the streetlights around them were suddenly shattered, causing fragments of glass to clatter against the cobble roads.

Dearil tenderly lifted Hubert into his arm and up against his chest. With his other hand, he took hold of his sword, allowing shadows to swarm around the blade and snake up his arm from the hilt. “I’m going to kill you!”

“King Galeforce...!” Damien quickly whispered and took an uncertain step back. “There’s something wro-”

“I SAID SILENCE!” Dearil snapped again and stomped forward, his intimidating demeanor striking fear through Damien’s entire body.

Damien’s breath hitched and he was so close to panicking. He glanced around at the others, waiting, hoping that someone would calm Dearil enough to let Damien speak. But... nobody was standing up for him. What was he expecting? Why would they stand up for a tyrant? Even Pelia Galeforce and her daughters, off to the side, were glaring daggers at him through the tears in their eyes. Dmitri had joined their side, too.

What was going to happen now?

#au #ask blog #post #Dearil Galeforce #Damien Petrov #Dmitri Petrov #Pelia Galeforce #Mary Galeforce #Allie Galeforce #Hubert Galeforce #tw blood #blood tw #tw corpse #corpse tw #main character death #tw main character death #main character death tw

[clouds-fics]

Ink Stains

A/N: This is my first time posting a fanfic on here! I hope you all like it! It’s from the video game Bendy and the Ink Machine, and it’s something I wrote about two years ago.

{•}

It was obvious that Sammy and Wally had a bad relationship. Everyone in the studio could see it.

However, that was just simply not the case.

-—-

Sammy was in his sanctuary, annoyance creeping up his spine as he scribbled out notes of music.

It was like a language, he thought. A language that he couldn’t decipher. Or at least find it in himself to finish. He was missing something; an important puzzle piece in his symphony.

Then, in quick rasps, he heard thumps make a quick tattoo into his entrance. He blinked, taking a quick look at the small clock and noticed it was past work hours. He was almost tempted to ignore it, but it was so panicked and familiar that he quickly opened the door. What met his eyes made him shiver.

Wally was in front of him, shivering and drenched in ink. His eyes were wide, and his hands trembled like a leaf in the wind.

Sammy quickly let him in, taking care to grab the slightly stained towel that laid on his stained desk. He led Wally to his seat as he ignored the tug at his chest.

“ What happened?” He questioned softly as he wiped off some of the ink.

Wally shook as he said,” I-I... It hurts...” He whined as he tugged at his stained hair. His hat, which he usually took very good care of, slipped off of his head and landed on the inky ground.

“ What hurts?” Sammy questioned as he tried to gently rub off the ink.

Wally seemed to not hear him, and Sammy looked into his eyes only to freeze when he saw them.

Eyes that usually resembled melted caramel now was a pure black.

It was like a signal as Wally heaved over, loosing his lunch as he sagged against his friend. Sammy was chilled by this, and his heart filled with dread when he noticed a familiar black.

That tug became a burn and all he could do was look away as he questioned softly,” What happened?”

Wally just continued to tremble, and it took a few moments to realize that Wally was mumbling. Sammy held back a sob as he tried to wipe off the ink. Unfortunately, it seemed to have a mind of its own now. It weaved along the teenager’s body, making even the most persistent scrubbing useless as it evaded him.

Wally was dying, and there was only one way to fix it.

Sammy snatched the hat from the floor and after sticking it on the teen’s head, picked him up and ran out the door.

-—-

Heat spread across his skin like a tidal wave, but all he could do is shiver. Voices, amplified to the point of deafening him, wailed and screamed in his ears.

He felt bile rise up, but he managed to keep it down as he looked up to the man carrying him.

Sammy had a scared but determined face as he raced against the clock. Wally, even in his haze, managed to catch the quiver in his lips and the slight tremble in his lips.

In that second Wally knew he was in big trouble.

He elected to ignore this thought. With a slightly delirious mindset, he decided he needed to cheer up his unofficial big brother. With his shaky hands, he grabbed the hat off of his head as firmly as he could. With a small sweep he planted the hat on Sammy’s head and began to babble.

“I crave your affection, but I crave your silence even more– shut up.” Sammy shakily drawled, but Wally didn’t seem to notice as he continued his speech.

With a shaky smile the man tousled his hair affectionately.

The janitor couldn’t help but lean into the warm touch, and all he could wonder was how his body was so hot but all he could feel was crippling cold.

-—-

They eventually arrived at the ink machine, and Sammy took care to lay the teenager softly on the ground. It still elicited a noise of pain from him, and it took everything in Sammy not to flinch and collapse on the floor. No- that was for later. For now he had to be the strong hero. Especially amongst his mistakes and sins.

He shakily darted out and sprinted to the offering room. He blessed his lucky stars that Joey had forced them to bring an offering, even if he did hate it. He wasn’t some crazed worshiper, but he’d be a liar if he’d said that wasn’t what Joey wanted him to be...

With a whimper he slammed the button and sprinted as fast as he could to the ink machine. He slipped and slid on inky black as he finally arrived at the ink machine.

He took no time in pulling the lever, making the machine rise into the air. He turned to Wally, heart gripping as he noticed the blackened blood that leaked from his mouth and his eyes. The only thing that managed to comfort the music director was the shivers that wracked his body. It meant that he was alive.

It meant that he had a chance.

Sammy reached down and picked him up, eliciting a startled groan from Wally. He merely rubbed a hand through his hair apolitically as he scampered over to the small tub that pumped out the ink.

With shaking hand he laid Wally on there and said,” It’s okay, I’ll make you feel better Wals.”

Wally groaned as he limply laid on his back, and the last thing Sammy did before he left him was kiss the top of his head and turn to the controls.

With shaking hands he began to pull the levers and push the buttons. He tried everything he could and eventually he was rewarded with a stream of ink gushing out of the machine. He slid onto the ground, shoulders shaking as his entire body was wracked with sobs that held no candle to the grief that consumed it.

-—-

It was hours later when Sammy awoke on the floor. He was confused for a slight moment, mind searching for an answer before the weight of what had happened hit him.

He collapsed again, body trying and failing to wrack in oxygen as his vision grew blurry with tears.

Wally was poisoned. Wally was dead. Wally was gone. Wally was gone gone gone.

He was gone.

-—-

He was swimming. That’s the only way he could describe it. Honestly, it was kind of nice. It would have even been almost peaceful if it weren’t for the shouting and the pitch black darkness.

The being, Wally, a voice in his head echoed, swam around aimlessly. He wasn’t sure where he was, and just as he was about to start yelling out too he heard sobs.

With his curiosity piqued he swam up. It was like moving through molasses. It felt thick and sticky against his... What was he again?

He couldn’t quite remember.

He ignored this in favor of following the cries; familiar and heart wrenching they drew him closer as he made his way up.

Then he breached the surface.

The air licked his skin, making him hiss in surprise as he blinked away the thick liquid in his eyes.

The lights were yellowed and made the walls appear a dark honey comb color. Black splattered the walls and noises seemed to create an odd symphony of ticks and grinding gears.

The thought sent a bittersweet feeling in his chest before it faded away; leaving him as quick as it came.

He would ponder this later, right after he got out of this ink pit.

With a grumble he padded forward in a doggy paddle. The ink seemed to drag him down, and it took everything in him to stay afloat.

Then he saw him.

The man was stained with ink he noted. He was crumpled on the ground and made worrying wheezing sounds- not unlike a broken squeaky toy.

Wally eventually made his way out of the ink and onto the balcony. His arrival, unnoticed to the music director, was a blessing to his aching muscles.

He dusted himself off, making a few splatters of black staining the soft wood. Wally winced, a sudden though reminding him that wood being soft wasn’t good. Especially for something that was suspending him about a giant pool of ink.

Shaking those thoughts away he started forward; paws miraculously not staining the wood as he asked the figure,” Hello? Are you okay?”

The figure was startled from his grief, turning to him with wide frightened eyes.

-—-

Sammy wasn’t sure what to do. He stared at the short cartoonish raccoon that was in front of him with a burning fear in his heart.

Would he hate him? Did he blame him for what happened?

... Did he even remember him?

Claws of anguish scratched at his chest and ripped at his insides; leaving a bloody mess of insecurity behind for him to deal with.

“ Do... Do you need help?”

Sammy let out a quiet whimper as he watched his every move.

The raccoon, Wally, didn’t seem to mind. In fact, only concern for his well being seemed to shine through two cartoon pie cut eyes.

If that wasn’t what started to flood gates, Sammy isn’t quite sure what did.

“ Oh no, did I do something wrong?!?” Wally fretted as he hovered anxiously over the sobbing music director.

Sammy paid no mind to his words. Instead he sobbed out,” I’m sorry! I’m so so sorry...”

Wally moved forward and gently took the man in his arms. Sammy wailed out as he clutched onto the inky raccoon as well as he could.

“ It’s okay, you’re forgiven...” Wally paused as he wracked his brain for his name.” Sammy.”

Sammy’s cries seemed to intensify and suddenly Wally felt memories flood his mind. With that came the realization that he needed to calm down his brother, and all he could think of is his song. The song that made him feel more human than anything else has.

“ I-It’s alright, it’s okay...” Wally sung rasping as he held him.

His grip tightened as he continued firmly,” It’s alright it’s okay. You’re not a monster... Just human, and you’ve made a few mistakes.”

Sammy cried out again and Wally burrowed his face into his hair.

“ It’s alright, it’s okay. It’s alright, it’s okay..”

Wally’s inky fur didn’t seem to stain his face. Instead it seemed to soak in his tears as he held onto his brother as he sung for him.

“ You’re not gruesome, just human, and you’ve made a few mistakes.”

Eventually with the help of Wally’s song and his love Sammy managed to calm down.

The music director scrubbed at his face mercilessly as he said,” I’m sorry...”

“ No more of that.” The raccoon countered as he brushed at the hair that was exposed from under the hat.” I’m not mad, and I can assure you no one else is either.”

Sammy remained unresponsive except for a quiet whimper.

Wally sighed as he picked him up. Much to the janitor’s surprise, he could almost compare Sammy to a feather as he held him in a bridal hold.

Wally elected to ignore that for now. No, he decided he needed to get him and Sammy out of there.

“ Alright.” Wally began as he trudged forward,” Is there anything you need from your... Sanctuary was it?”

Sammy just shook at the words, and all Wally could do was hold him tighter.

“ I guess that’s a no.”

Wally, after a moment, fished keys out of his pocket and started looking for the exit. To fill the void of silence, the younger man decided to converse with the shock victim.

“ You know, I think I look pretty cool. For a raccoon at least.” He shrugged as he made his way forward.” I’m going to have to hand in my resignation though. Or we could just say I died. Not sure how I could do that without you being a suspect or revealing I’m a furry. Literally.”

Wally snorted as he looked down at his black fur,” I’d say it’s pretty soft though, so fair deal I guess. Say, didn’t Disney offer you a job? You should take that. It’s better than here.”

Sammy started to doze off, and Wally shook him slightly as he said,” Nope, can’t have you dozing off just yet. You still need to listen to my Mickey Mouse impression after all.”

This finally got a soft huff of laughter out of him, and Wally couldn’t help but let a shaky one of him own escape him.

They would be fine, he realized.

Wally felt a few dark tears drip from his pie cut eyes as he said,” Yeah, and you never got around to watching those Disney movies with me. You still have to watch it with me, no getting out of it. Even if I am a giant fluffy raccoon.”

Finally Sammy began to calm down. His body became a limp noodle in his arms and Wally felt his own icy fear dissolve.

They would make it, Wally could feel it.

-—-

Sammy sighed as he drove up to his house, tired after a long day of work. Despite him being a musician, he often got sought after for help with the lyrical part of the songs. Adding that with his admittedly middle wage pay, he felt drained.

When he noticed the blue light that flooded out of his living room window, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. He unlocked the door, and entered the small hall.

He recognized the sound of Bippity Bobbity Boo almost immediately. Heaven knows that he’s heard it enough already. Oddly enough, instead of it annoying him it made him smile.

He quickly entered the living room to find Wally dozing off in a pillow fort. His snores drowned out the fairy godmother’s tune, and Sammy couldn’t help but smile down at his brother. With a click he turned off the tv and the lights. He undid his tie after that and made his way into the fort.

Maybe things weren’t exactly perfect, but as he curled up next to his brother, he knew there was nothing better than this.

#bendy and the ink machine #sammy lawrence #Wally Franks #tw transformation #tw grusome details #tw gore #kind of #Pre Loop #tw Death #tw main character death #but he gets better #Wally and Sammy kind of become brothers #it just happened #but they deserve it #Wally gets inked #spoiler: he becomes a raccoon

[highly-entertained]

Right here.

#Time for me to make you sad #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #cod mw3 #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #angst #tw blood #blood #tw main character death

[smokedarollofpennies]

If you know who you are don't read

#c!ponk #c!sam #tw domestic abuse #tw torture #tw main character death #YALL ITS THE CANON INCIDENT IF YOU AINT LIKE IT DONT READ