#cw : major characters death

[megahertzmaroon]

Fool’s Paradise /// Loop

Special thanks two my friends Carol (cowsaresushi) and hatch for helping out with this comic!

Here’s the song that partially inspired the thing.

[meruz]

i watched kore-eda's recent film Monster this past week and i truly.. cannot stop thinking about it. maybe my favorite kore-eda film yet

[ym523]

I had a render of this from a while ago, but decided to do a little animation instead. Inspired by this song/chorus ❤️

[lilybug-02]

Weird Route...

Spoilers for CT Weird Route below.

Please check tags for anything triggering ❤️

Afterlife...

........

This is not cannon, as the weird route is finished and it will not be added upon. But.......I often find myself wanting to draw for it. So here you are...

The weird route ends abruptly and without art for a reason. I wanted to make it painfully obvious that as YOU continue the route/story YOU stop getting anything out of it. You're only hurting the characters, and by the end, there's nothing left to do except start over.

I had thought of Asriel discovering Chara...well, dead. But I think that would have been too much for the scene. I didn't want to get any more depressing than it already was.

tbh I only hope that I can make an ending even half as good as this one. I still think about it often and I'm proud of the amount of work I put into it.

[pianokantzart]

Page 1 // ...... // Page 64 // Page 65 & 66 // Page 67 & 68 // …

[johnny-depplyloveyou]

“Do it, Gale.”

“Until we wake, my love.”

wip. I wish this ending had a different cinematic than when he does it alone, so here’s my vision of it

[dcartcorner]

My only friend was the man in the Moon And even, sometimes, he would go away, too (lost boy, ruth b)

[ominouspuff]

GUT. PUNCHER. PLEASE. Ö

(also I see the Plo Coon WIP and I’m in the microwave)

In an instant CC-2224 sees the blue on the other clone and recognizes his enemy — knows it is CT-7567 and knows the name he took and the color of his hair.

All that is in him that is screaming — was (always?) screaming — quietens. His finger does not depress upon the trigger. His hand does not twitch towards the backup blaster on his hip.

An instant, a moment, a breath, and a single thought—

I’m no soldier.

CT-7567’s finger is as quick as he knew it would be. Between one moment and the next, Cody is free.

———

Re: Plo Coon — huehue, yess get microwaved (affectionate) (I’m very excited to show you)

[anonymouslymadebydesign]

I am once again thinking about final moments Mountain

I think he'd meticulously give away his belongings to those he know would like them.

Rain, his fall hoodies he steals, because he knows how much the water ghoul loves them. Rain even steals them and Mountain simply lets him keep them. They never return.

He'd leave his books behind for both Aether and Phantom, the two quints always loving reading time with the earth ghoul

He'd ask Swiss to keep an eye on his plants because 'something feels wrong with them, like they're about to be sick, and i need to make a plan for whatever gets them'. Swiss feels so honored that Mount would ask for his help. Swiss even goes to the library to look for books on plant disease. 

He'd strategically break his drumsticks during practice, not at all uncommon, but tells Copia he has one last set in his room (he doesn't). This gets the other's attention and Dewdrop chirps that they should also restock on strings and drumstick, and there's a chorus of 'oh yeah, good thinking'

Not that he plans on using the replacements. Just another thing to get rid of.

He'd leave all his beauty products and art supplies to the ghoulettes. Aurora, his expensive paints and calligraphy set. Cumulus, all the hair bands and scrunchies and bath items he 'never uses'. Cirrus, his paintings he's made over the years because he knows she'll appreciate them the most.

He even remembers Sunshine, giving her the skulls and antlers of various kills he made in the Abbey Forest.

And for Papa Copia, well, Father Imperator. It may seem superficial but it was extremely sentimental and heartfelt. He timed it to when he had to shed his antlers, cleaning them as best as possible and placing them in a beautiful ornate box.

Of course, his true final gift is the various goodbye letters he clips to the doors of each of his pack members. He thought about sliding them under their doors, but you never know who will be awake, so he clips them to the outsides.

Maybe they'll see in the morning. Maybe they won't.

Either way, he'll be one with the soil again. 

[lexirosewrites]

My ADHD funk is hitting me hard😫

Omega Steve who is chosen at birth by the God of Protection and Story when he's born w a specific mark exclusive to this God

He's raised at the central temple for this God, devotes himself to learning the rights of a priestess, training in a weapon of his choice (bc come on this is the God of protection as well as story) he struggles with reading but has an uncanny memory for oral tradition

When he comes of age, after he's had his first heat, he must embark on a pilgrimage into the world, armed with his weapon, rank as a priestess, & his memory for stories

He travels for months, proving himself by lending his skills w his weapon to protect various small settlements from the forces of an evil God tht was banished from their world long ago, but who maintains power in the mortal world thru the monsters he created to terrorize ppl

On his journey he encounters a young omega priestess, a woman named Robin, she's a priestess to the Goddess of Love and Travel, Robin is on a pilgrimage of her own

The thing abt pilgrimages in this AU is tht its essentially wandering around with no destination in mind, following what the priestess/priest is able to interpret as signs from their God/Goddess

Steve & Robin encounter a gang of bandits specifically targeting travelers along an isolated stretch of road, working together they literally wipe out the bandits, & from there they interpret tht they must b meant to travel together

Eventually the pair of priestesses find themselves in a small farming community with a serious monster problem they work together with various key local figures, & the community barely wins, but Steve & Robin r injured beyond saving by mortal medicine

They lay together side by side in the decimated battlefield, bleeding out, holding the others hand, promising to find eachother in whatever life comes after death

Then at the same time they close their eyes, the last image behind their eyes the others face, & they breathe their last together

Suddenly they're opening their eyes & they're underneath a giant & ancient tree, still holding hands

When they look around they find tht they're in a forest, they have no wounds anymore, indeed they feel light & r without the lethargic feeling from traveling for many many moons

Soon they're laughing, hugging, and crying bc they truly thought they might b lost to eachother in the afterlife, together they wander through this forest till they find a beautiful building with glowing welcoming warm lights, when they approach the building two figures step out of the front entrance

It is the God of Protection & Story (Eddie) and the Goddess of Love & Travel (Chrissy)

It's explained to them tht they were chosen from birth not to just b a priestess but to become a beloved partner to their respective Deity

Everyone falls in love 🥰

ooohhh i was so sad for a minute there but their god(dess) chose them as a mate all along!!!

[jiveyuncle]

Keith never believed he'd have a long life. He always figured he'd die young and that his death would serve some purpose. He'd die taking a hit for a teammate. Or go up in the flames of a violent explosion while dragging a civilian out of a targeted building. Or crashing his ship at Naxzela to prevent an entire system from being incinerated.

Keith was going to die. He was going to die young. His death would mean something.

He thought these things were a given - facts inscribed on the essence of his being - as unavoidable as a dream, programmed into him the way sleep always eventually demanded dragging creatures to realities outside their own.

Keith was reckless, not because he didn't value his own life - that value could be measured by what he did with it and what he could achieve by risking it - but because he valued others’ more. He was reckless because he cared too much - about the success of the mission, about someone left behind, about everything and everyone else - and that caring was going to be what got him killed. His paladin teammates shouted it at him after every rash decision. His blade comrades acknowledged it with approving nods after each close call. He would easily give up his life if his death meant someone else was saved.

So, when he wakes inside Red, blinking his eyes open only to come face to face with himself in the pilot's chair, things don't click right away. It's not that Keith is dead - that part he accepts instantly, understands on some subconscious level in the same inexplicable way the astral plane connects minds and quintessence links paladins to their lions - but it's the how that his brain isn't processing. It's not that he is staring at his own slumped lifeless body, but it is the trusted Blade member he'd been tasked with transporting to a location to disclose the latest intel on Galran troop movements simply dislodging their blade from Keith's neck, tucking the knife away in their armor, walking to the exit, and leaving as if nothing had just happened. It’s Pidge joking into the comms of Keith's helmet, and Lance joking back, completely unaware of the fact that in a moment, without fight, without reason or warning, without some big sacrificial act, Keith just ceased to exist.

It takes them 15 seconds to write off Keith's lack of a response to the joke as him being peeved about being the butt of it.

It takes them 5 minutes before Lance starts offering lighthearted apologies in the form of backhanded compliments.

It takes them 15 minutes to discover that Keith isn't at the meetup location at the time they agreed on and to realize something is actually wrong.

They find Keith's body cold.

There's a lot of panic that feels much too sudden and extreme after drifting through space with his own corpse in the quiet cabin for so long - too many emotions in his friends faces, loud cracking voices, shaking hands.

Lance presses a palm to the gash in Keith's neck and grabs a control arm with the other, begging Red to take them home. He can't feel how cold Keith's skin is through the climate-controlled gloves of his suit, but he has to recognize there is no pulse beneath his fingertips. “If you've ever loved Keith,��� he pleads anyway, as if he doesn't already know.

They rush his body out like getting him to a pod will be of any help.

Keith can’t feel his body, but he feels tears on the floor of the cockpit and the vibration of feet down Red's ramp. He doesn’t sense pain, but he tastes his own congealed blood in the chair and, later, the antiseptic Coran returns with.

This is how Keith dies. Quietly. Without purpose. Alive one moment, and then not - wiped away with a cleaning rag beneath clenched fists, secret shuddering breaths, and a mouth whispering his name for the first time alongside words of regret.

Dead Keith/Red Paladin Lance AU (Part 2/?)

The event that set things in motion.

I’ve always wanted a canon story where the main character dies in some anticlimactic way, but I don’t ever see it because I assume it would really anger a fanbase or just feel really dissatisfying. The big question of, “For what reason? What purpose did that death serve?” And the reality is, death doesn’t usually come in the form of sacrifice or to satisfy some narrative. I’m obsessed with the idea of someone so important, a character who has lived through so many close calls just dying in such a simple and unexpected fashion - of dying without anyone knowing. It has to really fuck with Keith’s teammates extra bad - suddenly not knowing who they can trust, wondering any time there’s silence on the comms if one of their other friends just died without them noticing. Them each picking up little habits to signal to the others that they’re okay - Lance humming, Pidge tapping her fingers near the mic, Shiro clearing his throat, Hunk popping his lips. Uhg.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

You can now read this on AO3 as:

Empty Spaces You Left Behind

[aslitheryprinx]

I couldn't help myself...

Drabble based on the most recent comic in @somerandomdudelmao's apocalypse au. (check the series out, it's incredible. Probably my favorite au despite how much it's emotionally destroying me rn..... or maybe because of that who knows.)

--------

The funeral was a small, private affair.

Not everyone was lucky enough to get to bury their loved ones in the apocalypse; hell, they hadn't been able to have a proper funeral when Raph's robot form had been lost.

It didn't make this any easier.

Draxum had taken the role of officiant, as he had at Splinter's funeral. None of them could have kept it together, and despite the occasionally strained relationship, Barry was still family.

They all took a turn to say something once Donnie's coffin had been lowered into the grave. Leo hoped his twin didn't mind the sentimentality. It wasn't like they knew what he would have preferred.

It was funny; Donnie had left so many instructions on his codes, his tech, his duties... everything but what he wanted his funeral to look like.

None of them cried at the actual funeral. There had been plenty of tears in the days leading up to his death, and in the direct aftermath. Leo was sure that once it sunk in, that he was truly gone, there would be plenty of tears to come.

But here, as they carefully brushed the dirt over the coffin- purple, because Donnie had designed his own coffin, and wasn't that a morbid thought?- no tears were shed.

It was somber. Quiet. ....Empty.

Leo had felt it before, the emptiness that came with loss. Now, with his twin, his other half gone, it was a void, a deep, yawning chasm.

Later that night, he held Donnie's mask in trembling hands. As he wrapped it carefully around his katana, he wondered how he could ever feel whole again.

[weeesi]

Nightmare - May Prompt (15)

+

cw: major character death

+

“S’alright.”

“Oh god, no. Please. Don’t do this.”

This cannot be happening. This is worse than the worst versions of his nightmares, the ones where he’s shot to death in Afghanistan, where he doesn’t hand Sherlock his phone, he doesn’t move into 221B, he doesn’t fall in love, the ones where Sherlock jumps and stays dead. 

This is Sherlock actually dying in John’s arms. 

“You’re Sherlock Holmes, you’re indestructible,” and the first tear leaks out of the corner of his eye as his voice breaks. His heart’s already done, a portent of things to come.

Through the pain Sherlock laughs, mostly a gurgling gasp now. Many injuries are survivable. This one is not. John knows they won’t be getting Chinese at the end of Baker Street tonight. 

“I wish,” is all Sherlock says. His eyes droop a little, anchored still on John. He’s tired.

John presses firmly over the wound until his fingers turn white, then stain a deep red.

“You’re not going to die. You can’t die.”

Sherlock breathes. Slowly smiles. 

“Sorry, John.” His fading moonlight eyes. “Human…human being.”

A love like theirs will live beyond the next moment, will transcend the singular second when one of them has to leave the other behind. 

Their love is not forever. 

What they have reaches far beyond a word like that.

+

Today is my birthday! For me, today, tell someone you love 'em.

Thank you to @calaisreno for the fun prompt series! Tags in replies. Thanks for reading! <3

[dreamwatch]

Home

Written for @steddieangstyaugust

Day #2 - Prompt: Ghosts | Word Count: 1626 | Rating: T | CW: Major Character Death, death of a parent, death of a spouse, grief | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Angst, future fic, adult children, older Eddie | AO3

Eddie kicks at another box trying to work out if it’s light enough for him to lift on his own, or whether it’s another one over filled with unread books that he should just donate. He grunts at the weight of it; books. He’ll leave it for Ryan. 

It doesn’t seem to matter how many times he dusts or cleans these rooms, the moment a box or piece of furniture is removed, another cloud of dust seems to fill the air, settling over everything. After today it’s not really his problem anymore.

He can hear the kids giggling upstairs, so he follows the sound to the attic. They’ve accumulated so much shit over the years, it doesn’t seem to matter how many boxes they remove, the moment you turn around there’s another in it’s place; it’s like playing whack-a-mole with their own possessions.

He pushes upwards to the top of the steps and pokes his head inside the attic, letting out a dramatic “Ahem” as he does so. He watches on amused as Hope scrambles to hide something behind her back.

“I seem to remember sending you guys up here hours ago to clear this shit out. We haven’t got all day.”

Ryan gets up off the box he’s sitting on, another one marked ‘BOOKS’ in Hope’s neat handwriting. “You’re not supposed to be up here. Where’s your cane?” He holds his hand out and helps Eddie in the rest of the way.

“Yeah, well, if you were up here working like I asked you to, I wouldn’t have to be up here, would I?”

Hope makes that sorrowful face at him, the one she uses when she’s trying to wrap him around his finger.

“Sorry, Daddy,” she says.

“Yeah, yeah, turn it off, it’s not working today.”

Ryan tuts, and mutters “It always works.”

He’s not wrong.

Ryan helps him climb over the last of the trash and finds him a box to sit on. 

“What were you laughing at, anyway?”

They throw guilty looks at each other, but eventually Hope reaches behind her and pulls out a piece of shabby once-white fabric. It’s funny, the things that throw Eddie off balance. He’s got used to seeing past things, the sentimental stuff; photographs, jewellery. Like he’s trained himself to cope with it. But then he’ll get a bolt from nowhere, stupid little things that shouldn’t mean anything. Finding a bar of Steve’s favourite soap at the back of the bathroom cabinet. 

A silly hat he had to wear to work when he was a teenager.

The kids (kids, they’re nineteen and twenty-one now, Jesus Christ) look unsure, like they’ve fucked up somehow, which won’t do at all.

“So are you gonna let me see?” he asks with a smile.

Hesitantly, Hope places the old Scoops Ahoy hat on her head, and Eddie feels his heart being pierced. She’s always looked liked Steve, from the moment she was born. Now with her hair shorter, above her shoulders, it’s even more striking.

“Are you okay, Daddy? I’m sorry if—”

“Uh uh, nope. Nothing to be sorry for.” He swipes at his eyes quickly. “I love that you look so much like Poppy.” He stands awkwardly, Ryan reaching out to help him up, which he honestly hates. He’s fifty-one, he shouldn’t feel this old when he’s this young. 

“Alright, you guys good to get this stuff downstairs?”

“Yeah, Dad, I’ll get these down. Once Hopeless is done with that box.”

“Oh fuck you.”

“Hey!” he claps. “No fighting. Thirty minutes then I’m locking up. You can be in the house when I do it, if you like. The new owners can have you.”

He gingerly makes his way down the attic steps, leaving his kids to their arguing. 

Forty five minutes later, Ryan and Hope drop the last of the contents of their home into the back of the truck. It was amazing how much they had accumulated over thirty years together, and how their possessions had mushroomed once babies entered their lives. 

Eddie stands in the middle of their old den, taking it in for the last time, until he hears a knock on the door behind him. He turns around and finds Ryan looking back at him, the worry etched in his face. He’s always been such a sensitive kid, kind of like Eddie but without the hard outer shell because he never needed it. He was loved from the second he entered the world, adored and cherished at every possible moment of his life. Eddie worries sometimes that they’ve made him too soft, can’t help but worry about both of them now they’re out there on their own, making their way in the world. 

“Are you ready to go?” Ryan asks, gently. 

He’s not. Selling up was a decision made for him, between his kids and an ailing Wayne. The house was too big for him to manage on his own, according to the kids, though he thinks a tumble on the stairs was actually what made them push for him to sell up. He’s moving into a small single storey house, close to Ryan.

Wayne, though, the contrary fucker that he was, had a different take.

“All houses are haunted, Ed. Every last one of them. We just can’t always see the ghosts.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Some people can stay in a place they made special, can live in a home that was filled with life and love for so long. They can draw on it, you know. Take comfort from it. But you’re letting it consume you, son. You’re not taking from it, it’s taking from you. I’m not going to be here for too much longer—”

“Don’t.”

“Come on, kiddo. I’m eighty-five in a couple of months. Let’s not do that, okay? I’m worried about you, Ed. The kids are worried about you. It’s time to move on, Bub.”

Eddie missed him so much. It wasn’t fair to lose them both so close to one another.

A home being haunted by it’s memories, by the people that had lived there and imprinted themselves on it, never seemed like a bad thing to Eddie. It had been packed to the rafters with love and happiness. 

He doesn’t bother stopping the tears, just wipes them away so that he can see more clearly. Ryan crosses the room and hugs him tight.

“I’ll move in. If you want to stay, I’ll move back.”

God, this kid. His throat tightens, takes his voice away from him for a moment, so Eddie can only shake his head in response. He wants them to have fun after the last couple of years of hurt, go back to college and enjoy it, not be at home looking after him because he’s a lonely old man. 

They stand in their family den, squeezing each other tightly, until they hear the horn of the car sounding repeatedly.

“God, your fucking sister, so like your Pop.”

Ryan laughs and runs his fingers under Eddie’s eyes, brushing away the last of his tears. 

“You’re a good kid, you know that? Go tell your sister I’m coming, just need five minutes.”

He kisses his boy on the top of his head, the way Wayne did to him all the way into adult hood. He used to think it was embarrassing, but he longed for it the older he got, cherished those little kisses. Misses them so much now. So Ryan doesn’t escape them. He never will.

He starts in the bedrooms, Hope’s first, double checking the closets even though he knows they’re empty. Smiling at the wallpaper Steve had picked out, the sunflower design replacing the Barbie pink that had been there for years. 

Ryan’s room looks so odd without the floors covered in clothes and magazines, and pretty much everything else he owned. Steve’s voice echoes in his head. “I don’t understand why we bought you a dresser if you’re just going to throw all your shit on the floor. You’re like your goddamn father.” Eddie blows out a breath and closes the door behind him.

Their room was a sanctuary, their place of peace. They made love here; lay under the covers holding hands, cuddling, giggling. Acting like disgusting teenagers is how Robin had described it. They had, all the way to the very end.

Eddie hadn’t been able to sleep in this room for the first couple of months after Steve died. The thought that he had been lying next to him when he went, that Steve might have needed him, that Eddie might have been able to save him if he’d just been awake, ate him raw. It took a while for everything he was being told to sink in, to accept it. The years of head trauma had finally caught up with Steve. He’d had a headache that night and gone to bed early, but that wasn’t unusual for him. They could never have known. It didn’t make it any easier.

He prods the wonky floorboard outside their room, smiling as it creaks. Steve always stepped on it even though he knew it annoyed the shit out of Eddie, would come into bed laughing as Eddie swore at him. He’s missed that noise so much.

When he gets downstairs he opens the front door and sees his kids sitting in the truck, Hope on her phone, Ryan trying to hide that he’s watching Eddie. He steps out onto the porch, and takes a last look down the hallway.

“Come with me,” he whispers. “If you’re still here, come with me. Please.”

A warm breeze whips around him, blowing some loose hairs out of his face. Eddie sighs, smiling to himself before he closes the door for the last time.

I did NOT plan to write for this but I was waiting for Deadpool and Wolverine to start and this popped in my head from somewhere... go figure!

Title is from Home by Foo Fighters, which is just perfect for this song and hurts my heart everytime I listen to it.

[hajihiko]

[pianokantzart]

Page 1 // ...... // Page 63 // Page 64 // Page 65 & 66 // …