#fake kill scare

[whumpetywhump]

Squid Game - 3x01

[tabbytabbytabby]

The Long Way Around

Word Count: 11,528

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Stranger Things, Teen Wolf

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Dustin Henderson & Eddie Munson

Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Time Travel, Presumed Dead, Eddie Munson Lives, Time Travel Fix-It, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Older Steve Harrington, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Getting Together, Soft Steve Harrington, Post-Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Flirting, Bickering, Minor Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Magical Stiles Stilinski

Summary: Eddie's sure he's dying. He's bleeding out in the Upside Down with Henderson crying over him, and there's not a damn thing he can do about it. Until a bright light surrounds him, and he wakes up alone in the middle of a forest in California in the year 2015.

Read on AO3

For the Fake Kill Scare space for @badthingshappenbingo. Card under the cut.

[temporaryuniverse-writing]

Amaranthine

For the Whumptober day 8 prompt “Back from the dead” and the BTHB prompt “Fake kill scare”

Pairings: None CW: temporary major character death, graphic death/mentions of death, violence, angst, implied/referenced suicide attempt Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Grievous, Cody, Fixit (OC), Nora (OC) Summary: Obi-Wan dies. And then he lives. The only problem? He hasn't told any of the 212th about his immortality.

read on ao3...

--

Snippet:

Dying was nothing like falling asleep. Whoever said it was had obviously never died before. Dying was painful and terrifying, and sometimes it was over in an instant, and sometimes it was drawn out like it was now. Obi-Wan should know.

The saber twisted deeper in his chest and Obi-Wan coughed, blood spattering his lips and beard.

“General!” Someone screamed.

Grievous laughed and pulled his saber free, letting Obi-Wan drop to the floor. His clawed foot came down on Obi-Wan's chest, crushing him beneath the weight of motors and metal, and Obi-Wan felt several of his ribs splinter under the pressure.

He coughed again and there was more blood this time, the metallic taste flooding his mouth. He blinked up at the blank, white mask and the burning, hateful, yellow eyes, but his vision was already going dim and the body that he could barely feel over the pain was too weak to move. His lungs weren’t working right.

Grievous said something, a taunt of some kind mostly likely, but Obi-Wan couldn’t comprehend it over the ringing in his ears. The cyborg pressed down harder, caving his chest in and he gave a pathetic cry, white sparks bursting behind his eyes.

Then the darkness came and swallowed him whole.

--

[itsawhumpderfullife]

Whump Prompt #237

“Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they?”

“Ugh. What are you on about?”

“Whumpee A there you are! I thought, there was- there was blood on the floor- I-”

“Whoa! Hey don’t- I’m right here. I am not going anywhere, alright?”

“I just- it felt like- I was- a-lone again.”

“Hush Whumpee A. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

[isabelofwraithmarsh]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marie Antoinette - Levay/Kunze Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Margrid Arnaud/Philippe Égalité Characters: Margrid Arnaud, Philippe Égalité Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Fake Kill Scare, Angst, Missing Scene, Denial, Hurt/Comfort, Trust Issues, Abandonment Issues Summary:

In the days leading up to the Storming of the Bastille, Margrid can't find Orléans. Which is fine, because she doesn't like the man.

He wouldn’t die that easily, not when-  

She would know, goddamit. You don’t fuck someone for five years and then not know when they died on you.  

She would know. 

Completed for the @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt “Fake Kill Scare.” 

Attached is my card: 

[icypantherwrites]

New Fic: Feel Me, See Me (Or Please, Please Don’t)

A fitting fic for the Halloween season :) If you enjoy it please do leave a comment on the fic (fyi, you don’t have to have an account on AO3; you can leave a comment as a guest <3). I appreciate you taking the time to do so.

Summary: When an attack goes wrong Lance ends up trapped in a dimensional plane separated from his team. But he’s not alone. The Druid they’d been fighting is there too. Lance’s bond with his fellow Paladins is the key to getting home, but the Druid isn’t going to let Lance so easily escape and leave him behind. He needs to subdue Lance, to use him as his own ticket back. And when you pit a Druid capable of teleporting and summoning magic against an injured, near defenseless human? Let the hunt begin.

Story snippet: 

“Um, did somebody die?” Lance asked the kitchen at large as no one took notice of him, too caught up in their grief.

No one responded.

As though they hadn’t heard him.

Lance ignored the cold prickle that struck him at that.

No.

That…

That was impossible.

“Hey!” his tone was sharper, bordering on the edge of panic.

Still nothing.

He crossed the room, beelining for Shiro who always had the answers and reached a hand out to the broad shoulder, which closer inspection revealed was trembling.

Lance tried not to feel even more unnerved by that.

“Shiro, man, what is--?”

His hand went through Shiro’s shoulder.

Lance choked on his breath as he yanked the appendage back to his chest, gripping the wrist with his own hand.

What?

What the…?

“Sh-Shiro?”

He was too scared to reach out again.

Nothing.

“Pidge? Ah-Allura?”

Pidge let out a gasping sob.

“Hunk? Coran? Keith? Someone? Pl-please, I…”

Lance might have thought it was a joke except that none of them were that cruel and the small matter that his hand had phased through Shiro.

Was he…

A ghost?

Had he died?

“Guys?” he pleaded. “Guys, please. Answer m-me.”

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[heiressofnerdiness]

For the bingo, how about fake kill scare? ^

((Ohh we love a classic fake kill scare~))

((Sorry If This sucks I wrote it while sneaking onto my phone during a family movie night))

“If you don’t tell me in the next five seconds-“

A gun to the kid’s head, wide, tear-filled eyes staring at him-

“I’ve told you, you morons-“ Tony’s voice was beyond hysteria at this point “-I don’t know where they are! They went off the radar days ago!”

“But you know where they could be!” The man said, pushing the gun harder against Peter’s head, who whimpered beneath the gag.

“I’ve already told you everything I know - why do you even need them-“

“Their enhanced blood is more valuable than any kind of gold or jewel you could imagine!”

“It’s not more valuable than his life!”

“Oh, but we have a high bidder on the blood of Steve Rogers and James Barnes coming in a few days, and we expect to be able to make a transaction!”

Tony snarled. “I told you they could be in Wakanda-“

“They are not, and you know it. There has been no radical change in the border that would necessary for an entrance.”

“Anywhere in Brooklyn-“

“We have scoured the entirety of New York City, you fool.” He clicked the safely off of the gun. “This is your last chance!”

“I don’t know, you-”

“Then I have no choice!”

“No-” Tony pulled at his chains, surely hard enough to break something that wasn’t metal, but he didn’t care - he met the kid’s eyes, wide and terrified and young- “Kid, I love-“

Crack.

There was blood. Blood on the walls, blood on the floor, blood on his shoes.

There was blood in his kid’s hair.

The man used his foot to move the kid’s head to the side-

“Don’t you dare even touch him,” Tony choked out. “Don’t you touch him, you hear me, don’t - don’t touch-“

That was as far as he could get without breaking down. He squeezed his eyes shut, an attempt to block everything out, but the man didn’t let him.

“Was he important, Stark?”

A tear down his cheek, but that was it. He wouldn’t show them anything else. “F*ck you.”

Peter couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t be. He needed to graduate, for heaven's sake - he needed to ask that MJ girl out, he needed to go to college - he needed to live his life, he needed to live-

Oh, God, he couldn’t do this-

“Well, you should think about that from here on out.”

Tony opened his eyes to glare wetly at the man before he croaked out an answer. “What are even talking ab-“

His heart stopped beating.

. . . what?

Peter’s eyes were blearily opening, like nothing had happened.

“Tranquilizer dart,” the man said as he threw the gun at Tony’s feet. “And fake blood. Why would I kill the only leverage I have?”

But he ignored. . . all of it. “Kid,” he breathed. “Peter.”

The gag made it hard to make out, but he heard three very distinct syllables, and it wasn’t hard to discern what he was trying to say.

“Mister Stark.”

The man, who had crossed the room without Tony noticing - how could he, when his kid was alive in front of him - walked up to where Peter was in the floor, a taser in his hand.

“Now, Mister Stark,” he said with a smirk. “Now that we’ve established the ‘bond’ between you two, I think it’s time we got some answers.”

[heytheredeann]

“Fake Kill Scare” fill for the Bad Things Happen Bingo, James/Thomas(+Miranda), pre-canon AU.

@badthingshappenbingo​

.

The news is brought by Admiral Hennessey himself. He shows up unannounced, well after dinner, which Thomas takes as anything but a good sign.

He is vaguely aware that both he and Miranda are not too presentable, certainly not dressed to receive guests, but it doesn’t seem to matter much, if at all, in the face of the admiral’s hardened expression.

The first thought that flashes through Thomas’ mind goes to James, because it is him that a member of the Royal Navy knocking at his door makes him think of. It brings to mind superior officers notifying the family of bad news.

(He hopes he is only being paranoid. After all, they are not James’ family, not officially, there would be no reason for such a visit.)

“Admiral Hennessey,” Miranda greets him, politely, when Thomas fails to say anything. She moves closer to him, her fingertips hovering around his wrist. “What brings you here? We were told it was urgent.”

Even in the face of Miranda’s smile and pleasant tone, Hennessey’s hard expression doesn’t shift, not at all. His eyes barely leave Thomas’ face, and that look is so icy that it makes it painfully clear that there are no friendly or nowhere nearly warm feelings to be found underneath.

(Thomas’ stomach keeps sinking and sinking, his bad feeling not seeming much like paranoia anymore.)

“I have received news from a merchant ship that left the port of Nassau,” Hennessey begins, almost in a snarl. “The governor, his wife and their son were butchered by a bunch of pirates, over a dispute for money. Everything fell into chaos soon afterwards, it seems. There is currently no law in Nassau.”

Thomas curses under his breath, his stomach shrinking at the thought of the governor and his family’s fate, their faces flashing through his memory, and at the realization of how this will be perceived in Whitehall, how this will affect all the pirates that he wanted to offer a chance at redemption to, not just those who decided to commit such an act. If he can separate the few from the mass, he knows that not many will be as generous.

It is a few seconds later that it comes to mind that there is an even more pressing concern, though.

“Pardon me,” he says, slowly, his knees weaker than they ought to be and a lump in his throat that he barely manages to work through. “But why is this news coming from you? Where is Lieutenant McGraw?” He supposes he could simply be too tired after a long journey, but Thomas knows him, and he knows that he’d take a carriage straight to them as soon as he’d set foot on English soil.

He has to wonder why he hasn’t.

[More on Ao3]