#tw: dying

[icycoldninja]

Dude I absolutely adore your Sephiroth angst fics, they're such good reads! I was wanting to request some angst with him around the Nibelheim Incident, his s/o accompanies him but ends up on the fire and he realises at the last second if thats a decent idea. Thank you again for all the quality fics :D

Thank you so much, it's always awesome to hear ppl lovin' them! I'm so psyched that people are finally requesting more Sephiroth 😁 Here you go and please enjoy.

Hold on (Sephiroth x Reader angst)

You had arrived at Nibelheim far later than Sephiroth and the others as Shinra, for some reason, had decided to put you in a separate truck and send you to join them at a later date. That, combined with the fact that the truck was overrun by monsters halfway through the trip, delayed you even furter, though that didn't stop you from coming up with a way to turn a disappointing situation into a happy one. You intended to surprise Sephiroth with your unexpected arrival, but unfortunately, you happened to set foot past Nibelheim's gate at the worst time imaginable.

You couldn't believe your eyes when you got there; the entire town and the woods surrounding it was on fire. Tall, bright orange and red flames shot up from the treeline, iluminating the sky with an ominous amber glow, meanwhile, terrified villagers ran out of their smoldering homes, scrambling for the path that led down to the road where they hoped they would be safe. Others were desperately trying to escape exhausted militiamen trying to guide them to safety, their terrified minds fixated on freeing a trapped or long dead family member crushed under the rubble.

As you beheld the scene, your mind grew frantic and began to spin with questions. What happened here? Where did this massive fire come from? Where were the SOLDIERS? Why weren't they helping the civilians? More importantly, what about Sephiroth, was he alright?

Panicking, you raced into town, ignoring the loud warnings of the rescue volunteers as they tried to keep you from rushing into your doom. You sped through the village, leaping over crackling logs and ducking falling planks of wood. The billowing gray smoke stung your eyes and burned your lungs, drying out your throat and making the simple act of breathing very difficult. Choking and hacking, you continued further into the blazing town square, soon arriving in the center of the smoldering village, where you were met with a collapsed water tower that burned just as brightly as the many crumbling homes around you.

"Sephiroth!" You screamed, voice hoarse and cracking. "Where are you?!" Shouting was a grave mistake. Your already irritated throat burned with the effort, causing you to double over, coughing so violently, you saw stars.

The flames were rising even higher now, to the point that the world seemed to be trapped in a cage of red and orange streaks. It would have been beautiful, had the smoke emanating from these flames not been choking you to death.

You were starting to feel lightheaded and dizzy and your knees were quivering fiercely, a sign you wouldn't last much longer. You were now faced with two choices: you could either stumble back out of town, and join the fleeing civilians, or continue onward in your search for Sephiroth.

Of course you chose the latter; how could you live with yourself if you didn't?

"Sephiroth!" You cried, again, still pushing forward despite your shaking knees. "Where are you?!" You suddenly tripped over a rock, hitting the dirt much harder than you expected. Your bones ached; they were probably badly bruised now, but that didn't stop you from continuing to claw at the dirt in a vain attempt to stand, key word being "attempt". Your limbs, which felt like wobbly twigs, gave out without much resistance. You crumbled to the ground once again and lay there as scorching hot walls of fire spiraled out of control all around you.

There was so much smoke now, it made your stomach churn and breathing painful. You knew you weren't going to last much longer, but what could you do to save yourself? You couldn't even move. Tears began to well up in your burning eyes and slide down your cheeks as fear and worry overwhelmed you. It didn't matter what happened to you; all you wanted was to know Sephiroth was safe.

As if the universe were answering your plea, you faintly caught sight of a pair of black combat boots slowly trooping across the scorched ground.

"Sephiroth?" You rasped, voice barely audible over the crackling of burning wood.

"This cannot be...Y/N?" The pair of black boots hurried towards you with speed you'd never witnessed before. In seconds, the silver-haired male was at your side, strong, gloved hands gently lifting you up and turning you over. Your hazy, smoke-clouded eyes blinked at him slowly as you struggled to focus on his worried face and those beautiful, yet strangely sad green eyes that were so intently focused on you.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The longer you looked at him the more you realized how different he seemed. There were dark shadows under his eyes; shadows you don't remember seeing. There was also a strange, almost insane gleam to his eyes, like a light shining at the end of a dark hallway.

"Sorry I'm a little late," You chuckled, coughing. "Surprise."

"You fool." Sephiroth mumbled, shaking his head at you. A few locks of his long, soft hair fell over his shoulder and cascaded onto the ground, the shimmering silver a stark contrast with the dark, scorched ground.

"Why did you come all this way? You should have remained at the entrance, or left. You know it isn't safe." You shook your head, smiling.

"I...wanted to...make sure....you're...ok..." You reached up and gripped his hand as tightly as you could; your head was getting lighter and lighter and you needed something to ground you.

"You...were concerned? For me?" Sephiroth sounded as if he couldn't believe you cared about him, which was odd because you always showed and told him you did.

"Of course..." You replied, realizing how hard speaking was growing. "I love you...why...wouldn't I be concerned?"

"Don't you know what I am?" Sephiroth asked, shaking you slightly. "Do you not understand with whom you are conversing?"

"You're...the love of....my life, Seph...that's...good enough...for me..." You punctuated your words with another series of violent coughs. Sephiroth could see your already labored breathing was worsening and could tell by the way you were squinting that your eyes burned so much you couldn't keep them open. When he felt your grip on his hand loosen, he felt true fear for the first time in his life.

"No, no, no, no, no, don't let go. Do not let go. Hold on to me. I...I will get you to safety." He was breathing heavily himself, his heart pounding in his hands. This wasn't supposed to happen. You shouldn't have come here. He couldn't lose you, not here, not anywhere. He refused to lose you. He was the Chosen One, come to reclaim the Planet, and you--you were to be his beloved bride. He couldn't lose you here, he refused to even consider the possibility!

"I can't hold on," You whispered, shaking your head weakly. "I...I'm slipping..." Your vision blurred, but you were vaguely aware of something warm and wet falling onto your face--tears, perhaps?

"Please...don't go...I need you," Sephiroth said, voice brittle, grip around your hand tightening. "Hold on. Please."

"I can't," You repeated, feeling consciousness starting to fading away; the sensation akin to falling asleep. "I'm sorry...I...just...want you to know...I love...you."

Your entire body had gone numb and cold now; you couldn't see and your throat hurt too much for you to even talk. It was a good thing your vision had left you, because it meant you couldn't see the horrified, pained expression plastered on Sephiroth's face as he desperately tried to keep you awake--but his efforts were in vain. You were gone.

[lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love]

may I request an Danny phantom x reader I’m not sure if u see that one episode of Danny phantom d-stabilized where the reader is half ghost like Danny but she unstable in her ghost form (like in the episode Dani was) and she trying to find Danny before Vlad catches her and maybe she gets capture and Danny has to save her maybe reader slowly dying .I hope this sense

Can u add a bit fluff angst to mix aslo this romantic fic since Danny like the reader anyways I love this show sm aslo take as much time as u need no worries

Notes: I’d like to thank @supernerdycookietrashblr for the request & I hope you enjoy it! This ain’t my best work and I’d like to apologize. I’m gonna make a part 2 of this if that’s okay.

I don’t own any of the gifs/pictures used.

Warnings: Half-ghost!r is unstable, some angst, possible romantic feelings, spelling/grammatical errors, anything else I failed to mention

Word Count: TBD (give or take)

Masterlist: Click Here & Here

You have heard all about the Fenton boy, Danny. The half-ghost kid who refused power and wealth for his family. The stubborn child who couldn’t see past Jack’s idiocy. And you had to wonder: Was Danny really in the wrong? This Jack Fenton guy was his father; why is Danny defending his father so bad? If anything, it should show what kind of person he is; good.

But your “father” didn’t see it that way.

Danny’s constant rejections had started to pile up. Your “father” was beginning to lose his patience. The continual reminder that Jack Fenton had a family with the woman of your “father’s” dreams had reached its boiling point.

Your “father” was desperate in his attempts for the perfect half-ghost son. Instead of using Danny’s DNA, your “father” opted to use his own. Round two turned into another string of failures. Even you were considered a failure. Not only were you a girl, but you couldn’t even maintain your ghost half for very long.

He wasn’t very happy with that.

You’d escaped, but the longer you stayed as a ghost, flying from Wisconsin to Amity Park, the weaker you became. You saw ectoplasm starting to drip from your form; your body was destabilizing before your very eyes.

But you had to go a little further. If you didn’t, he’d find you and you’d be done for. You didn’t want to die; but if you stayed in your ghost form for too long you’d become a pile of ectoplasm. If you stopped even for a second to recuperate you’d be captured, dissected and melted down into a pile of ectoplasm. Either way, you’d be dead.

So you kept pushing, even when your vision blurred. Even when your body began to burn and your head started pounding.

And then everything went black.

When you woke up, you were lying on a bed in a room you didn’t recognize. You felt your heart drop. As desperately as you wanted to believe this was a good thing, you couldn’t for the life of you believe it. Slowly sitting up, you wince at the splitting pain going through your head.

You jumped at the sound of the bedroom door opening. The sound practically had you falling out of bed. You peered over and saw a dark-haired boy come in. He seemed about your age, with blue eyes and a leaner build. He seemed surprised and relieved to see you awake.

“Good, you’re awake,” he remarked.

“Where am I?” you stammered.

“My room.” He walked over and sat at the foot of the bed. You moved away from him. “I found you passed out just outside the city limits.”

The longer you looked at him, the more something began to click in your mind. Familiarity. But how? Why was he so familiar? You’ve never met him before—or have you? You chewed on the inside of your cheek, brows furrowing as you regarded him more closely.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I just—” Then it clicked. “You’re the ghost boy!”

He paled, eyes widening as he stood up from his bed, taking a step away as if you’d burnt him. “Who are you?” he asked shakily.

“I need your help,” you exclaimed, standing up. Your body ached, remnants of the pain you felt earlier. “Please—he’s going to kill me.”

“Who?” he asked, swallowing thickly. “Who’s going to kill you?”

“My father.” You felt a shiver run up your spine—mere thought of him making fear bubble in you. “He’s going to kill me. I didn’t turn out the way he wanted.”

His brows furrowed. You saw reluctance swirling his blue eyes, mixing with the curiosity and worry over your words.

“I’m half-ghost,” you stated. “He wanted a son but I—” You motioned to yourself. “He doesn’t want this.”

You see realization come across his face before it twists into anger.

“My father told me about you,” you added softly, “how he tried taking your morph DNA. There was another girl like me, but made from you. I’m made from him, but my ghost half is unstable. I’ll die if I stay in that form for too long.”

You see him eye you, looking for something—what it is you’re not sure. But you let him study you. You just hope whatever he finds is good, or at least lets him agree to help you.

After a long, almost drawn-out pause, he nods. “You’ll be safe here,” he states firmly. “Vlad won’t get you.”

You give him a soft smile and nod. You feel a warmth in your chest at the honesty of his words. But deep down you prepare yourself for the worst. Just as a precaution.

[scarefox]

[awfullybigwardrobe44]

I’m back with the prayer requests.

My grandma (her name is Joy) is dying. We don’t know how long she has, but she’s not really lucid anymore. I said my goodbyes two days ago, and it was incredibly hard, but she was still conscious then and I got to hear her talk, although it was very faint.

Fortunately, she has been a strong Christian for the vast majority of her life and I have full confidence in her faith. I am at peace (and let’s be real, a little jealous) that she gets to go Home soon.

if you could, please pray for my family, especially my grandpa. He has dementia and we don’t know how he’s going to cope with this or if he’ll even understand. Please pray for us as we care for both of them during this time.

[waywardwizzard]

The sky was grey and Mal swore it had been blue a few seconds ago.

Blood steadily dripped down his side at an alarming rate, staining the ground a greying-red, but he didn't have enough strength to try and stop the bleeding. Instead, the captain watched as colour slowly leeched out of the world, leaving everything a monochrome grey.

Mal was tired of fighting. All he's ever done was fight and he was sick of it. He deserved a break, he deserved to rest, gorram it.

Slowly, he closed his eyes against the greying sunlight -

Zoë and Wash holding each other as the ship around them blows up -

A plot of disturbed ground, the name 'Jayne' carved crudely into a stone marker -

Inara back at the Guild, smiling but never really smiling -

Kaylee working at her dad's workshop back home but looking more like a stormcloud than his little ball of sickly sweet sunshine -

Book on another ship, locking his door, gun in his belt, no Bible in sight -

Simon drugged and bound, alone in a small cell, the grey Alliance prison uniform hanging off his too thin frame -

River screaming, needles in her eyes, blood on her hands, chanting don't don't don't -

Mal screamed, the wound in his stomach burning like hellfire, the visions still flashing behind his eyelids everytime he closed his eyes.

Gorram it all.

With a pained hiss the Captain of Serenity dragged himself into a semi-conscious, semi-upright position, willing the tiredness away, a hand clamped over his wound, willing his blood to flow slower.

Damn his crew.

Malcolm Reynolds started to stumble back to his ship, his visions follow in the shadows, colour slowly seeping back into the world.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Author's note-

Ok, I'm not gonna lie, I love this one. A lot. It's up there with a few of my other favorites.

I'm sorry if it's not as good as some of the others but I really can't write whump to save my life😅

Anyway, thanks for reading! <3

[alphacrone]

i always thought death was a journey in itself, but maybe instead it's like coming home from a really long trip and finally putting down your bag and taking off your shoes and settling into your favorite chair to finally rest.

[timeguardians]

“there’s no need to close that door forever . ( violet or dawson from your choice! )

There's nothing SHALLOW about the FATHOMS Violet finds herself DROWNING in. Grief lay ravage to her heart, it's icy tendrils choking every aching beat. Bloodshot eyes linger upon her friend, before slowly drifting downwards.

She could NOT touch the food Evan's family sent. She hadn't even an inkling of appetite in days. In fact, Violet hadn't possessed a desire to do anything, even fuss with her hair. Defeat housed itself in her spine and would not so easily be dislodged. All she could see was him. Was that smile of acknowledgement on his face moments before he RUSHED in to save that man from the FIRE. Then, the building gave this SICKENING ROAR, a shivering grumble far worse than any she has EVER heard before. The building shuddered and collapsed over him like a tidal wave of concrete, plaster, and rebar. She VIVIDLY recollects the COLD terror, running through her veins in lieu of blood, as he was removed and that LOOK in his eyes --- He glanced at her that FINAL time; that terrible, terrible FINAL time as life vacated his CRUSHED form.

Evan's family requested that she pick up his belongings which is why she dared to enter the last place Evan had ever been. Belongings she NOW clutched, with the envy of a dragon protecting all of the king's GOLD. Numb fingers trace doting paths over the embroidered shoulder patch of his uniform. She can't help but remember how sturdy those shoulders were, and yet, somehow they managed to be the worlds most perfect pillow. He had become her EVERYTHING.

"How do you LIVE with that... HOLE in your heart, feeling that EVERY part of you is EMPTY?" She wants to walk away from being a paramedic. Everywhere she LOOKED, Violet saw him; saw Evan Hawkins. His presence loomed in every waking and sleeping moment. All Mikami's heart could do was FEEL the terrible void as it grew more tangible with passing moments. The fight is drained out of her. There's nothing she could give.

There's a quiet interlude before she speaks again, giving vocalization to words she thought she might NEVER say. "I'm scared to go back to work." Her eyes more sheepishly find his. "How do you EVER come back to this, when all you see is --him?" Right now all Violet wants to do is RUN. "Wouldn't it just be easier if I change careers. I could always be a chemistry teacher." Who was she trying to fool. Being a paramedic was her CALLING. While she could very easily fall into teaching, she loved this job.

[imagine-all-the-things]

[choices-binglebonkus]

ok I need more on the crown and the flame characters in the zombie apocalypse, who’d live and die GO

(also endless summer if you have time thanks <3)

Alright I’m just listing the main TC&TF characters plus one or two who also stand out in some way:

Kenna would live obviously. The worst thing that would happen to her is getting bitten and having to cut off her arm/leg to save herself, but she’s definitely strong enough, smart enough, and a good enough leader to survive.

Dom would also live, as would Sei, Anu, and the rest of the fire users. How could they not with fire magic at their disposal?

Val would probably survive because she’s tough as hell, brave as hell, and she never took any shit from anyone in the series. However, I could also see her getting herself killed by pissing off the wrong people because she’s also really aggressive and brash at times.

Annelyse would definitely die. She gets stronger and braver by the end of the series but she still isn’t a fighter and ultimately can’t hold her own. I’d say she’d probably die about a week or so into the apocalypse trying to protect Aurelia and her people before it falls to the undead and she succumbs to the hordes.

Raydan would also probably die. Not because he’s weak or anything, but because he’s a spymaster and is risky by nature. And in zombie media, everyone’s luck runs out eventually. He’d probably survive a good year or so before he takes a risk that’s too dangerous and ends up costing him his life.

Tevan would probably die too because even though he, like Annelyse, has grown stronger over the series, he’s still ultimately only a fighter out of necessity. I could see him lasting about a month.

Diavolos would 100% make it through the zombie apocalypse. He tells Kenna he trained in combat and strategy since he was a child and fought in his first battle at 13. He’s basically a human weapon.

Zenobia, however, would die pretty early on. Even though she’s a Nevrakis, Zenobia is all talk. We never see her fighting except in one of the last chapters when she’s desperately swinging a fire poker at Iron Empire soldiers and we have to swoop in and save her. She would probably last about two or three weeks only because she’d be one of those characters in zombie media who’s only alive because they’re being protected by people stronger than them.

Whitlock would be one of the very first casualties. He’s a Technocrat, and the minute he and the rest of the Technocrats caught wind of a zombie outbreak, they’d do their best to contain and cure it. Whitlock would last about three days before the outbreak becomes too big and too deadly to contain. Just think: there’s a real life phenomenon where doctors and scientists are often the first exposed in outbreaks and epidemics. This is also very much a thing in zombie media.

Helene, Rowan, and Lia would also all survive because Helene and Rowan are powerful, and in Lia’s case, she has lightning powers and an entire legion of highly-trained soldiers willing to defend her to their last breath.

The only one I’m unsure of is Jackson. I think he could go either way in terms of living or dying. If he died, however, I know for a fact it would be in direct defense of Kenna because even before he becomes her official crown guardian, he’s fiercely loyal and protective of her.

As for Endless Summer…

I honestly don’t think any of them would make it. The two with the best chance of survival are Estela and Jake, who were both in the military. And in Estela’s case, she had trained as an assassin.

But no, I truly don’t think the ES characters would survive. I mean, The Endless says they’ve all died 2,139 times, a lot of times on the very first day on La Huerta.

So instead of listing who would live and die, I’ll list who would last how long.

Quinn, Diego, Raj, Grace, and Aleister would all last roughly two or three days. None of them are particularly strong or athletic characters and would easily fall in the chaos of the first few days.

Craig would probably die about a week or so in. He’s strong for sure, but he’s also really reckless, and that’s what gets you killed quick in the zombie apocalypse.

Sean would die probably three months in. I don’t know for sure that’s how long he’d survive, but I know he would die before Michelle. The two have had their drama and history, but still really care for one another. Plus, Michelle is knowledgeable in the medical field and Sean wants to do what’s best for the group, so I know he would risk life and limb to keep her safe.

Michelle would die sometime after Sean. Weeks? Months? Who knows. But the group is very thin at this point and her downfall would be because she got herself into danger she couldn’t get out of.

Zahra would survive a year before dying. She’s unique though in that she would probably take off soon after Craig dies and survive on her own. She actually managed this pretty well in the actual series: she determinantly abandons the group at the end of book one when the Vaanti attack The Celestial and returns unharmed, and she survives (and THRIVES) for months on her own in book three. Zahra would do really well for herself until she gets into trouble and there’s no one else there to back her up and she dies.

Jake and Estela would die at the same time, probably a year and a half in. I could see them surrounded by a massive horde of zombies, no escape, supplies running low, and a silent, unspoken agreement passing between them to take as many with them as they can.

[kiyokokaguya]

Not here! Not now! || @shisui-uchiha-anon

"I was gonna come nosing anyway. You know that! Hang in there and I'll get help." Lyn felt his hand on her cheek. A frown on her face, not wanting to see her friend here dying. The woman lacked any skill with medical jutsu so all she could do was keep pressure on wounds and try patching him up. So much blood, it was hard to keep up.

"Shisui, I'm bad at listening to directions." There was a smirk on her face. "You ain't dying here." Truth be told, she had NO idea how to get him any help here. There were too many others out there that she would have to deal with. Escaping while carrying him wasn't going to work out very well.

She absolutely hated admitting when she was in a corner, reaching up she'd touch his hand. "I ain't leavin' your side okay?" This wasn't fair, why a coup? It's not like she really understood anyway. Lyn did originate from Kiri after all.

[tomboyjessie13-artblog]

Sorry for taking so long, it wasn't easy recreating Xehanort's keyblade. Anyways, I know the drawing is violent looking and I do apologies for freaking people out but hear me out: 

At first glance, you may think: "Oh Neashi must've found out who Luxu is, kicked his ass, and got him to apologize to her for all the hurt he's caused her and Braig." But there's a plot twist to this drawing: Neashi was the one apologizing here, not Xigbar. Why? Notice the gold hue in her eyes? Notice how she's holding a Keyblade despite not being a wielder? And notice how Xigbar isn't even wearing his black cloak? Luxu isn't the one laying dead here, Luxu IS Neashi herself. That's right, Luxu bodyswapped again because he needed a younger and fresher body, and that body was Braig's closet friend from childhood. 

Afterwards he had no choice but to kill Neashi while she's in Braig's body just to keep her quiet, but not before apologizing to her saying: "I'm really sorry, Princess...you were like a daughter to me..." This was the second terrible thought I had the other day regarding Neashi, only instead of being Norted, she becomes Luxu's new identity. Besides, who says that Luxu has to take male bodies? What if he took on female identities to change things up a little?

Neashi Tamiki belongs to me

[timeguardiansarchive]

[flo55i]

trigger warnings; dying, anorexia/eating disorders. Martian 5 sentence fic thingy.

“So, how do I look?”

Mark laughs at his own joke, choking on the breath he doesn’t have to spare anymore and Seb cannot see the humour in his limp hair and sunken eyes, on the skin dripping from the skeletal frame lying in the hospital bed.

He swallows down the tears and the guilt of not seeing sooner that what Mark was fighting ran deeper than just his desire to win and the punishing weight limits afforded to him by his height and says, “You are how you have always looked to me.”

Mindful of the oxygen mask over Mark’s face, Seb’s fingers stroke over the clavicle that is protruding out of the paper thin gown instead, trying to soothe both of their pain, voice cracking on the admission he was too cowardly to ever admit, “You are beautiful.”

Now it might be too late.

[the-good-the-bad-the-old]

60 years ago, June 1962, a massacre committed by the Soviet army and KGB officials against unarmed civilians rallying on 2 June 1962 in Soviet Union city of Novocherkassk occurred.

A few weeks prior to the massacre workers of the Novocherkassk Electromotive Building Factory (NEBF) had organized a peaceful labor strike which later resulted in a bloodshed and killing of about 26 people. The soviet troops had killed 26 and wounded 87, including children. Major suspects among the highest ranking Soviet officials such as Khrushchev, Mikoyan and several others who were deemed responsible for the massacre were never held accountable due to their deaths by the time the investigation had started.

“They shot at demonstrators; children, women, men. People struck by explosive bullets were falling and dying on the pavement; at the foot of the Lenin monument, on the huge central square, and on the neighboring streets”.

June 3-4: Overnight about 240 people were arrested.

The first photos of the demonstration became public in 1991. The images published in newspapers are photocopies of (a smaller part of) the originals taken by the KGB, which had been used to identify and arrest protesters Some of the protesters were sentenced to ten years in prison.

One might ask the very same question Novocherkassk dwellers— imprisoned and sent to camps—have been asking for nearly sixty years; paying tribute to the victims, how do we guarantee the proper flow of information on what happened? How do we hold the state accountable? How do we prevent it from shooting its own people?

Tombstone to the victims of the massacre, also known as "Stone on Blood". The writing reads: "2 June 1962".

[doyouknowwhoyouare13]

okay I just changed the quote to champagne problems and now I want to die

[mechanicalinfection]

ANIMAL