#mentioned death

[mirrormurmur]

Drinking in the utter, devastating angst that is Whumpee watching the Caretaker that promised them “No one will ever hurt you for as long as I’m alive.” get killed by Whumper.

[periware]

Had some goddamn dream where a addict named Laura was charged with vehicular manslaughter 4 times and her conscience was Poppy Bros Jr 😭

This is a recreation of one of the parts

[final-bae-stination]

Thunder And The Rain (Ian McKinley)

Prompt: The reader is scared of the thunder and Ian tries to calm them down during a particularly heavy storm.

Author's Note: This does kind of go WAY out of the "Final Destination" universe, because I like to think, even though it was proven different, they could've beat Death at the end, and Wendy, Kevin, Julie, and Ian survived, so...we're going with that.

Third Person POV Ian hated life, or what passed for it. Somehow, Wendy did it. She beat Death, and in three years, nothing's happened to him, Wendy, Julie, or Kevin. Sure, they were all still extremely paranoid, but who wasn't anymore, after the shit they'd lived through, but barely? The truth was, he missed Erin, but Y/N took care of that.

After he left Build It after Erin's death, he'd been struggling for a job. Nothing seemed interesting. And then, surprisingly, he found one: the pound. He liked animals more than people, that was a fact. Sure, he tolerated Wendy and the others, but it wasn't a necessary kind of like. And, of course, he still hated Wendy for killing Erin (though he was sure that part was fading a little--he literally went shopping with her two weeks ago). He liked to work at the pound, which doubled as an animal rescue and vet clinic. And then he met you.

You were there, just starting a week after him, and he saw immediately that you were drawn to (favorite animal). He could see it: they were cute. Hard to resist. Made sense. What didn't make sense was you talking. To him. A lot. Alone, too. Like, okay, he knew he looked weird, all Gothic and whatnot, and that he was...weird, sure. But you didn't seem to notice that. You talked to him like a normal person, and try as he might not to, he liked that. You didn't treat him differently because he was different.

It was very, very slow, but you both started catching feelings, he'd asked you out, and one thing led to here: you, on your sofa in you and Ian's apartment, watching TV. You and Ian had gotten together four months ago, and he'd finally opened up, telling you everything, from his past to Erin, and things in between, the trauma dumping: the roller coaster accident, the near death experiences, losing Erin, watching the others die, the whole Death thing. You never once doubted he was serious or anything but crazy, because he had a look on his face, talking about it, that wasn't fake.

Now, you've not told him a lot, either, particularly your fear of storms, especially thunder. You felt it was childish, even though there were a million adults with the same fear. It's just...Ian seemed so fearless after everything, and you wanted to be that way for him, so you never told him your fears (you did admit spiders and snakes scared you, though).

As you're watching TV (Ian was at work), you heard the rain, and then the ominous rumble. You tensed, hand on the remote. Another boom, slow and heavy. Shit, you thought. Please not now, Ian's almost home! But the storm, obviously, did not listen, increasing the peals of thunder until you were shivering under your blanket, trying to turn the TV up to block it out. But then the lights flickered, and went out. You gasped, feeling panic clawing its way up your throat, through your veins. Is this how he felt? You ask yourself randomly. Is this what Ian felt, wondering when he'd die, and what from, and how? You shook your head. In the dark, that wasn't helping. Something slammed, and you jumped, heart pounding. You wanted to call out but were too scared. You flinched as thunder roared, lightning shooting across the sky.

"Babe?" A voice calls, and oh, you wanted to start bawling in relief. He finds you on the couch, under your blanket, shaking. "Shit, babe, what's wrong?!" He throws his coat, not even glancing at where it lands, and rushes over, kneeling at your side on the floor. "Babe. Hey." He says, his fingers under your chin as you hide. "Baby, what's wrong?" "It's nothing." You try to say, but he's not having it. Before he can speak, thunder booms, and you squeal, throwing yourself in his arms. He barely catches you, letting out a soft "oof" as he holds you in his lap, feeling you shake. "Baby...is it the thunder?" He asks, and your silence confirms it. "Oh, babe." He breathes, rubbing your back with one hand, the other in your hair.

"I know, it's dumb," You whisper into his red shirt. "No, no, it's not dumb, baby." He says soothingly. "There's a fuck ton of people that're scared, too." He tries to assure. You shake your head, "I feel like a child." You whine. He chuckles, "Well, that's why I'm here. 'Cuz I can protect you, right?" A pause. "Right. I love you, Ian." His breath catches. That was the first time you'd said that. "I love you, Y/N." He whispers. "Why don't we go to bed, yeah? I can throw on a movie or something on my computer." "I'd like that," You blush, and he carries you to the room, setting you on the bed. You pick out The Avengers, and you both curl up to watch it. Here and there, one of the peals of thunder makes you flinch, but with Ian beside you, it's really not that bad.

[flame-izer]

DAY 11 BABY!!!!

PESKY BIRDD

This is another one of my fics on a schedule!!! Though I won't be able to check your comments, I will gladly read them on either the fourteenth or the fifteenth!!

FIC UNDER CUT PER USUAL!!

Grian loved his brothers, yes, but the two of them could get aggravating.

In fact, the two of them were carrying him over to his llama, fussing over him.

“Grian Solidarity! You need some rest, and I don’t care if we have to tie you down to this damn llama, you will be getting it!” Jimmy shouted, arms crossed. Joel was the one carrying him, which was the smarter option (for them). Jimmy could be persuaded, Joel couldn’t.

Grian opened his mouth to protest, but Joel cut him off. “Silence, Grian! You are a Bad Boy, and Bad Boys get sleep!”

“Since when!?!” Grian shot back, struggling in his brother’s hold. Jimmy snickered, but Joel shot him a sharp look and tightened his hold on Grian.

“Since now!”

Jimmy ran in front of the duo, putting a lead on Grian’s llama and pulling it over. He tied it to a nearby fencepost, before untucking the blanket from under his arm and unfolding it.

From then, Grian was manhandled.

Joel threw him onto the llama, to which Jimmy strangled him with the blanket, forcing him down until he passed out from lack of oxygen.

(In reality, Grian had given up his struggles, allowing Joel to place him onto the llama, where Jimmy placed the blanket over him. The two of them sat with Grian until he fell asleep, which wasn’t long after. Grian was very dramatic when he was tired.)

When the avian woke up, he was still on his llama.

He was also, surprisingly, in the mansion.

However, there was thing very, very different.

Instead of the peaceful, calm blood running through his veins, telling him he was a kind, sweet bird,

There was an.. Edge.. to it.

In other words, Grian realized he had been turned yellow.

Joel and Jimmy were in another room, yelling at someone for something. As quietly as Grian could, he got off of his llama, tip-toeing over to the source of the noise.

His brothers were yelling at the Mean Gills, Martyn and Scott.

“And you two KIDNAP our brother and almost GOT HIM KILLED-”

“You’re acting like Scar didn’t kill him first!” Martyn shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. Scott was leaning against him, rolling his eyes.

Joel did not like the reply.

“WE DON’T HAVE SCAR WITH US RIGHT NOW DO WE?!? I DON’T SEE HIM HERE WITH US RIGHT NOW!” He shouted, drawing his axe. While Jimmy was trying to hold him back, Scott saw this as an opportunity to annoy the taller man.

He stepped forward, pulling out his own axe. Martyn didn’t stop him. “No, I don’t see him! But are we him?” He taunted, tilting his head. “We aren’t, so stop taking your anger out on us.”

Martyn laughed, slinging an arm around Scott’s waist. The cyanette stiffened up a tad, but soon relaxed as he watched the anger he caused take form.

“YOU STILL KIDNAPPED HIM!!”

“JOEL!”

The two Bad Boys whipped around, seeing Grian standing there, wings folded behind him. Grian looked over at the Martyn and Scott, in which the blonde sighed and nudged Scott. The two of them left, leaving the brothers standing alone.

Grian looked between the two. Jimmy was obviously still angry, and his wings were flared up behind him. He was also yellow, as Grian could see from the timer on his arm. Joel, though he had just been shouting, seemed to be less angry, a little more guilty than anything. His antennae were slightly drooped, and he wasn’t meeting Grian’s eyes.

The middle child sighed, walking over to his brothers. “What happened?” He asked, stretching out his arms and wings. He felt as if he had been moving all day, although he had been sleeping.

Jimmy shot up at the opportunity to speak. “People overheard that you were asleep on your llama, so people kept coming here to try kidnapping you to make us angry! We got you back, of course, but you got killed twice.”

Joel nodded along, taking a deep breath. Grian sighed, nodding and walking over.

First, he wrapped his arms around his younger brother, squeezing him tightly while making sure not to brush his wings. Jimmy reciprocated his hug, placing his chin on top of his brother’s head.

Then, Grian pulled away, walking over and wrapping his arms around his older brother. Joel practically melted, holding Grian close and resting the side of his head against his brother’s.

When Grian pulled back, he smiled up at his two brothers.

“It’ll be fine. At least I’m awake now.”

Grian’s smile widened into a smirk as he added:

“And we’ll make their lives hell for this.”

[ask-2k-cccc]

Fun 2K Fact of the Day!

Did you know that there were 4 routes you guys could have gone to during the "Fake Ray" arc?

Two of those routes have Cyrus literally died/reseted as an AI after Ray comes back, counting it as "Ray's victory".

One of them has Cyrus successfully replaced Ray and deleted/killed Ray off :D

[strange-slenderverse-aus]

Fucked up angsty au:

So you know how in EMH the rake likes to taunt Alex?

And you know how in whisperedfaith the rake is like- a God that wants to destroy the world with a cult full of brainwashed followers and you can literally get addicted to listening to the point of really major withdrawals?

What if for whatever reason the speaker saw potential in Alex the same way it did in Sean, what if it tried to manipulate and / or recruit him.

Idk if it would work, I just think it would be super scary to be dealing with that alone as a teenager, also having the family be involved would just add another layer to the horrors the EMH crew have to deal with.

Extra angst option: @whosthatredguy 's headcanon about the speaker using his victim's voices. Imagine hearing your dead dog barking in the middle of the woods. Also I know their parents probably died in a car accident but it would be especially fucked up for the speaker to use their voices too since Alex was already talking to recordings of their voice.

[apricitywinterswrites]

With no Light of my Own (I Shine Only With The Light You Gave Me) - Whumpuary D19

With no Light of my Own (I Shine Only With The Light You Gave Me)

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 1,303

Summary

"You're overworking yourself too." "That's a lie." Ponyboy felt annoyed enough to push off Steve, no matter how heavy everything felt. He turned and glared at Steve, feeling himself falter internally when he saw just how tired the other looked. "Is it?" Steve asked. Ponyboy glared at him, but he knew that the facade wouldn't be held up for very long. He was tired. He wouldn't go as far as to say he was overworking himself, but… Ponyboy looked away, a glare on his face pointed towards the ground.

Or, or, Ponyboy is struggling to accept that two of his friends are gone. Darry and Sodapop have tried everything to try pull him from the depression that he'd fallen into. Surprisingly, it's Steve that manages to pull him out. Title from | The Moon Will Sing | by | The Crane Wives |

Day 19 of Whumpuary2025 (@whumpuary) || "Let them go." | Overworked | Head Injury

You can also read | With no Light of my Own (I Shine Only With The Light You Gave Me) | on Ao3!

Warnings Include: Mentions Death of Minors, Mentions of Neglect (From the City), Mentions of Death, Mentions of Dead Characters

……… ……… ……… ……… ……… ……… ……… ……… ………

"Get up. Let's go." Ponyboy flinched in surprise as Steve dropped a jacket onto his head. Ponyboy pushed the jacket off of his head, glaring up at the other who was staring down at him unimpressed.

"Why should I?" Ponyboy muttered, pushing the jacket onto the ground beside him as he glared almost petulantly at the other.

"Because I said so, twerp." Steve responded, crossing his arms with a glare on his face. Ponyboy made another face at him, pulling his knees to his chest just a little more. Steve rolled his eyes as he reached down and grabbed Ponyboy's arm, pulling him up and snagging the jacket off the ground in one quick motion.

"What the fuck?" Ponyboy's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Soda! I'm taking your brother out for a walk!" Ponyboy baulked at the other.

"I'm not a damn dog, Steve." Ponyboy huffed, but he let Steve shove his shoes at him, along with the jacket that Ponyboy had initially shoved away. He did listen to the silent command to put his shoes on, although he still refused to put on the damn jacket.

"Alright, you guys will be back soon right? Darry will be home soon, and I need Pony's help with dinner." Sodapop's head popped out from the kitchen. The smell of chocolate cake batter sticking to him when he stepped out.

"We can try, but you might want to start on that yourself, and he can help with whatever after we get back." Steve told him, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway.

Sodapop hummed as he pulled Ponyboy into a brief hug. The scent of Chocolate Cake batter was stronger on Sodapop, and Ponyboy let his brother hug him before pulling back. He still wasn't entirely comfortable with too much physical contact.

"It may be colorful," Sodapop smiled brightly. Ponyboy and Steve both rolled their eyes, both having their own forms of a smile on their faces. "Now get. Get, get, get." Sodapop shoved at Ponyboy's shoulder and patted Steve's shoulder when Steve pushed off the doorway.

Ponyboy made a face as Steve turned and pointed towards the door as Sodapop made his way back towards the kitchen. He was probably assuming, correctly, that Ponyboy would make a run for it should Steve go ahead of him.

Didn't mean that he wasn't going to complain the entire time.

Ponyboy grumbled as he walked out the door, still refusing to put on the jacket. Steve made his own sound of annoyance, though he didn't say anything.

"Why are we here." Ponyboy's voice was quiet when he spotted the entrance to the graveyard. He'd stopped in the middle of the half abandoned road that they had to walk down.

The graveyard was nothing special. Glory, it wasn't even officially recognized as a graveyard by the city. It was just something that the greasers used whenever one of their own fell and weren't cared about enough for an official gravestone.

Darry couldn't afford to attempt getting just one of them an official gravestone. So they made their own and held their own little funeral at the half abandoned clearing that most greaser's used for the fallen.

Ponyboy was always vividly aware that every single gravestone was for a kid.

"Keep walking." Steve told him. His voice was quieter, and there was some weird tone to it that Ponyboy hadn't heard before from Steve.

Ponyboy wasn't sure how, but he'd managed to get his legs to respond to his command again. Everything felt heavy as he walked. He wasn't even sure if he was truly seeing anything as he walked. His head was lowered and he knew they were filled with tears.

He knew where they were going. Steve wouldn't have them come here for any reason other than to visit them.

Ponyboy felt himself falter when he came to the well worn pathway. He hadn't been here since they were buried. Not really, at least.

He'd known exactly where they were buried, having chosen the spot they were buried specifically. He'd never officially managed to come visit them, though there had been a few attempts.

Ponyboy hadn't realized that he was just standing in front of both makeshift gravestones until Steve had put a hand on his shoulder.

"Sit down." Ponyboy's knees buckled, and he was slightly surprised when Steve caught him and gently lowered both of them. "Easy, Pony." Ponyboy sucked in a breath when he realized that he was beginning to hold it. A coping skill that he'd, unfortunately, picked up from Sodapop.

"Wh-" There was definitely a sob beginning to build up in his chest. He already couldn't see. Not that he was looking at anything but the ground. "Why are we here." Ponyboy tried to demand.

His voice was too weak.

"You need to let them go." Ponyboy jerked away from Steve. Or, he'd tried to. Steve was stronger than he was and Ponyboy felt like even lifting his head was too hard for him.

"The hell are you talking about Steve?" Ponyboy muttered, crossing his arms. Ponyboy liked not staring or having to look at the other. Especially for what he now knew was going to be an emotional conversation.

"I'm talking about the sleepless nights that are scaring the fuck outta Soda, and the scrapes and bruises you think you're hiding from Two-Bit and I at school. I'm talking about the countless drawings of Dallas and Johnny that are causing you to go through sketchbook after sketchbook and notebook after notebook." Steve responded.

Ponyboy crossed his arms, trying his best to ignore everything Steve was saying.

"You're overworking yourself too."

"That's a lie." Ponyboy felt annoyed enough to push off Steve, no matter how heavy everything felt. He turned and glared at Steve, feeling himself falter internally when he saw just how tired the other looked.

"Is it?" Steve asked. Ponyboy glared at him, but he knew that the facade wouldn't be held up for very long. He was tired. He wouldn't go as far as to say he was overworking himself, but…

Ponyboy looked away, a glare on his face pointed towards the ground.

"Come on, kid." Steve uttered quietly. "It's just the two of us out here." Ponyboy felt the tears welling up in his eyes, but he felt unwilling to break. Steve was asking for just a bit of trust… Was asking Ponyboy to trust him enough to be vulnerable.

At least, he had been unwilling to break before Steve pulled him back to lean against him. And then the dam broke.

Ponyboy hadn't known where the sob had come from, but it was nearly impossible to stop. He broke down into sobs, leaning against Steve who wrapped his arms a little tighter around Ponyboy.

"It's okay to miss them… It's okay to cry about it… Shout, yell, break something, I don't care. It's okay, right now." Steve uttered quietly. Ponyboy wasn't entirely sure he was hearing the other properly, but…

It was almost comforting, hearing the other just speak.

Ponyboy wasn't exactly sure how long they sat there in front of the graves of two of their friends. Dally and Johnny, both having gone out too soon and with too much action.

However, he knew at some point that Two-Bit had joined the two of them, just sitting with a bit of pressure against Ponyboy's side. The three of them where all leaning against each other.

It was probably the only time he'd ever seen the two greasers cry.

And when the three of them finally managed to pull themselves together, and made their way back home, Darry only took one look at them and put a little extra food on their plates before ushering them to the kitchen table so that they could sit down and eat.

[bespectacled-bookwyrm]

Angstpril 2026 - 22

https://archiveofourown.org/works/83595676

Summary: He wasn't afraid.