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File: 1356940038070.jpg (245.55 KB, 800x602, SCREW SUPERMAN, I WANT PICTURE…)

Death Thread Hueco Mundo!MEOWKdWFcQ 118133

Death, it happens to everyone, it's the end of this path we call life.
It can be painful, it can open hearts and open minds. To some, it is the only absolute.
Death even applies to fictional characters, ones that are in books, movies, cartoons, anime, even comics; yes, even Superman can die, he did before as a matter of fact.
Even characters in RPs can die, whether in combat, a heroic sacrifice, or just unceremoniously killed by a explosion from a robot, they are open to death.
But what would pass through their minds, other than a bullet or piece of metal, what would they think, how would they feel, would they regret, what is their belief in after life?
In this thread, you can right about your character dying, their emotions, their life flashing before their eyes, just try to not make it too gruesome. Have fun and yes… Feels may ensue.

Dusty Page !Nzixts.png 118137

>Superman dying
 >Death permanently becomes impermanent in comic books
That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die.

That said I might write Sophia Scroll's scene later.

Hueco Mundo!MEOWKdWFcQ 118150

File: 1356941464582.png (246.16 KB, 370x360, 12-10-2012 4-42-42 PM.png)

>Hueco sits in a spacious white room, relaxing on a chair in the middle of nothingness.
>"Something happened…"
>He can't quite recall. He was in combat, fighting someone… His brother maybe? Everything's a blur. Was he knocked unconscious and taken here?
>he bows his head, staring at the gaping wound in his chest.
>A voice is heard from behind him, a voice belonging to a man in black, modern day clothing.
Well, Hueco? Ready to go?
>Hueco doesn't turn around, still staring at the wound he recieved.
I… I…
>he chokes up, unable to let out what he wants to say.
I died… Didn't I? This is it, isn't it?
Well… It isn't much… Did you expect St. Peter?
>the man smiles, not seeming to care of Hueco's predicament.
How'd it feel? Dying, do you recall it?
>Hueco thinks back, he can recall certain parts, the struggle to live, the sudden pain he felt as a blade punctured his heart, the surprise, choking on his own blood, and then then numb feeling of shedding his mortal coil. The only words he can get out are:
It hurt…
What a shame
>the man starts heading off.
Wait! Is this it?
>Hueco gets up and runs towards him.
Is this the afterlife…? All I have left…? Please… I don't want to live in this void forever…
>The angel raises a eye brow.
You're crying? Well, devil may cry…
>he points in the distance.
Go on… Mortals see a light when they die right? Then go for it…
>he opens up an umbrella, a door appears out of nowhere and he opens it.
I need to be-
But I'm-
A demon? So what? You made the right choices… Then go on… I'm already late for my meeting.
>with that, Lucifel closes the door, leaving the catboy alone.

>Hueco heads for the light.
Meh… I tried my best… I don't know what others will think, but I'm proud of it.

Matthew Williams (Canada)!QGMAPLEcOA 118155

File: 1356944049289.jpg (121.08 KB, 600x849, Canada.full.693405.jpg)

What am I even doing.
>It was dark
>No, no it was..was that smoke? It smelled like it
>It was so quiet..no, no it wasn't quiet either
>There was shouting, but he didn't recognize from who, hell, he didn't even recognize the language
>He tried to move, nothing budged
>He did realize, however, how much everything ached
>Where was he?
>His mind was so foggy, his memories jumbled
>He was…in a battle. With who he couldn't begin to guess, his head aching just as much as anything else
>He tried again to will himself to move, it was painful, but he managed to turn his head
>And he found the source of the shouts
> Soldiers, lots of them, he didn't recognize them either
>He did recognize the fallen though..
>The uniforms… those were his soldiers, weren't they?
>No way. He couldn't be beat up this badly.
>…Where was he?
>If there was a battle, America of course couldn't be far behind
>..Right? They had an alliance after all
>Not one soldier looked like his..Not even England?
>He was loyal, he was never rebellious like America
>After all, he even kept the Queen as his "boss", what more can he do?
>Were they busy fighting their own wars?
>…Did they forget?
>No way. He..They couldn't have.
>He tried willing his body to move again, to speak.
>His head hurt so much.
>He only managed to mutter and untangle a single phrase
>One noise seemed to pause in all the chaos
>A soldier..or well, as much as he could see from his position on the ground
>He stopped, right infront of him
>Why? He didn't recognize the uniform still. If he was his enemy, why?
>The soldier seemed to move, why he could not tell
>Why? Where was America? Was he really going to lose this?
>His only answer was the gunshot that rang out, the sharp pain, and the darkness
>He knew this wasn't smoke this time
>He'd lost his last battle
Aafasgk;a I didn't know how to end it, I'm so sorry ; A;


File: 1356981992445.jpg (46.75 KB, 600x525, judgementday.jpg)

>so this was how it'd end, huh.

>he couldn't see. his hands were bound. something was stuffed in his mouth. he couldn't talk. he could walk, but had to rely on the hand gripping his upper arm to guide him.

>he couldn't tell what language they were speaking in. he just knew the voices were too harsh to be his friends.
>he stumbled forward. somebody whapped him with the butt of a rifle, sending him into the dust and dirt. the blindfold slipped, letting him get a glance of his surroundings.
>he could see… nothing. it was too dark, and his glasses had been crushed long ago. he could still look down, and see his uniform. it was stained with dried mud and fresh blood.

>he knelt like that, in the dust, without a word. the voices continued, talking amongst themselves. there was the tell-tale clicking of a safety being flicked off.

>this… was definitely how it would end.

>he had chosen how it would end long ago, though, so it's not like he could act surprised.
>becoming the world's greatest military power… it just painted a target on your back.
>as time passed, his prowess faded, but the target only attracted more attention.
>friends came and went, allies became enemies, new countries rose, old ones fell… he didn't even know who was speaking at this point. too many countries spoke like that, and all of them hated him.

>cold metal was pressed to the back of his head. the voice spoke in barely intelligible English,

>"Any regrets, American?"

>he wished he had told Britain how much he meant to him.

>he wished he'd hugged Canada one last time.
>he wished he had returned Japan's video game.
>he wished he had made a bigger difference in the world.

>Alfred closed his eyes, and dredged up something a citizen had said long ago

I only regret that I have but one life to give for my country… bro.


Professor Stein!KHlaYR4iu2 118628

File: 1356983024083.jpg (52.37 KB, 240x200, Stein_FiveMoreMinutes.jpg)

>It seemed lately he felt more and more exhausted. He hadn't realized it then, but the answer slowly became apparent as the weeks went on. His personal research into the matter didn't help much aside confirm what he suspected.

>Simply put, he was dying. His brain was losing activity at an alarming rate, and was set to degrade at a steep pace until there would be nothing left.

>It might have been the screw, in retrospect. But wasn't that a good trade-off? He never held any illusions that he would live past forty years old; he wasn't like that.

>It was just a matter if he would live lucidly sane or lucidly mad. With sanity came his lifespan, cut drastically to compensate for his method of controlling a quiet dangerous madness.

>With the insanity he would have died a long time ago, likely. A soul on track to being a Kishin; Lord Death would have had no choice on the matter.

>He didn't tell anyone, naturally. They didn't have to worry. For all the cures in the world and all the things said and done…he supposed he was fine with how it all turned out. It wasn't bad by any stretch of the imagination; in fact lately it felt like his life was more enjoyable, more fulfilled.


>He sighs and settles down on his bed, his glasses sitting on the nightstand aside him and his eyes slowly shutting.

>He would die having people who would likely miss him, and, in a way, he was going to miss them too.

>…And not because he didn't manage to dissect them yet.

>And, strangely, that was just fine.

!7iNNPsLMuM 118648

File: 1356983802205.png (Spoiler Image,403.3 KB, 704x396, 101010101010.png)

>she never saw it coming; never saw the end as it stalked her this entire time
>she always figured, even if it all died, if the stack of cards was ever to crumble, that she would be unaffected; might paws and black wings, strange and unknowable metal mechanisms still existing, still crossing across time and space, keeping her alive, keeping her eternal
>somewhere, amidst her hate, amidst her pride, with all of her carefully woven plans, each piece as important as the one preceding it, she forgot the Universe always has a greater plan than anything she could ever imagine even in her most fevered dreams, even for the smallest of creatures
>she never saw it coming; never saw herself unraveling the very fabric of reality; never saw her shaky hand reaching for that castle of cards
>now, she lays there; alone
>she witnessed their beginnings, time and time again
>now, for the first and final time, she watches its end
>she lays in nothing, for there is nothing around her
>her eyes wide open, staring at nothing
>she lays alone; she lays scared
>for she knows she is the final card, standing upright against all laws of physics and the universe
>she lays alone, scared, for the moment she closes her eyes, she will enter a deep sleep, one's she doesn't know if she'll ever wake up, or even exist to wake up

Valerie Sutcliff!aLEJudith. 118656

File: 1356984181736.png (330.77 KB, 627x554, 133720575833.png)

>So this as it then.

>A fitting end to someone like her.

>All the killing and blood on her hands.
>The death she brought to others in silence.
>Those she had to betray…


>That was her name right?

>It had too long since she answered to any other.

You have committed countless acts of murder, plotted against those who lead us, and even sought to rob us of the many things in this world that would bring us to salvation. Too long have you been a thorn in our side. Too long you have keep us within the grasp of death and for what?!

….To save those who do not wish to life under the thumb of tyranny.

Lies! You care not for the people Assassin! What you do is for yourself alone! We could have had everything we both sought! Now we only have what little is left to show for our struggles.

>A sigh.

>Then Assassin is guided towards the light… no to the outside.
>She looks down at the ground far below her. The people.. the targets all looked like ants from up here…

We can not progress as long as you are here… So we must be rid of you.

….Others will come. We will stop the threat.

>the noose is placed around her neck as another sigh is heard.

There is no threat. They're all gone as is with your group as well. The world will be a better place without them.

>The were gone?


>Assassin smiles as she walks the plank of wood extending from the towers ledge.

>There is no need for her now.
>No targets to kill.
>No more blood to be spilt
>Only rest now.

….Is there anything you wish to say before you go?

>Was there something?


>Yes. Yes there was.

My mother and father…. tell them I never stopped loving them

>another sigh. The woman takes hold of the leaver that would drop her to her fate.

I love you too Valerie

>Then Assassin felt the wind on her face as the earth rushed to meet her.

Crona Makenshi!lM1NLFeAxs 118727

File: 1356985686176.png (125.16 KB, 597x345, It's Cool...Just Gonna Take A …)

…warm…it feels warm…underneath me…

Why does it feel warm…?

…I see…red…a red pond…beside me…

I don't like red…I used to…but I don't think I do anymore…

Hey, Ragnarok? Why is there red…?

…Ragnarok? …why are you so quiet…?

Hey…Ragnarok, come on…say something…


…oh…it's black underneath me. Is that why it's so warm…?

I like black…I'm not supposed to, I don't think…but I do anyway…

…it's so quiet…how did I get here…? I don't remember how…

…huh? There's something wet…on me…

It's…it's not black…and it's not red…it's clear…

Oh…it's rain. It's raining right now…

I like the rain…a lot of people don't, but I do…it makes me feel…clean…

…hey…is someone there…?

I can see someone…leaning over me…but I can't see their face…

…the rain's picking up…there's so much of it falling on me now…

Huh…? Did you say something…? I can't hear you, please speak up…

…I'm sorry, I still…can't hear you…

It's so warm here…I feel really tired…is it OK if I just sleep for a little bit…?

…don't worry…when I wake up, I'm sure I'll feel better…we can talk then, can't we?

…do you want to be friends? Is that why you're here…?

That's good…I like making friends…I didn't used to…I was scared of it. But now I like it a lot…

But just…let me sleep for a bit first, please…? I'll try not to be long…


Hueco Mundo!MEOWKdWFcQ 118796

File: 1356987013071.png (154.99 KB, 360x387, 12-10-2012 4-29-09 PM.png)

Doing a new one, since I felt like mine is the odd one out; his was during hte after life and everyone else's is while they are dying
>bloodied, battered, blinding pain surging through his being. The catboy… No… The demon was on his last limbs.
>he slowly gets up, one of his limbs is broken, making it hard to move. He only manages to utter a single word.
>he reaches out, reaching towards someone in front of him, barely able to see with his sight fading.
Please… I don't..
>the figure grabs him by the wrist and shakes his head "No." He doesn't speak, he knows that all he needs to do, is tell Hueco that it's over.
>he loosens his grip and Hueco collapses to the ground, falling under his broken leg.
>he looks up at the being in white.
Last words?
>Hueco thinks back, the figure in front of him… His brother… He had the chance, he could've finally proved himself stronger, but… How'd it end up like this? All he want… To be accepted by his father… No way he could get that now…
>But what about them? His friends… The ones that embraced him, brought him into the mansion. He was accepted.
>despite all the pain, Hueco smiles.
I'll miss my friends.
>Hueco closes his eyes for the last time.

Deadpony!DeadTIX9Kc 118817

File: 1356988346579.jpg (58.2 KB, 400x600, For whom the bell tolls.jpg)

>The elevator was small and damp. Clearly a lack of maintenance on the owners part. Loud thunks would go by as each floor was passed.
>Inside Deadpony stood making sure each of his guns were loaded and his blades were sharp as they could be.
For any other man this would be a one way trip.
>He cocks his shotgun and holds it firmly in his hands. Just then the elevator would begin to slow down as it came close to its stop.
For once I hope I'm not unique.
>The door would slowly open up and show a large group of shady looking men. Deadpony appears to have taken them by surprise as one shot seemed to blow one onto his ass.
>The shot would alert the others as they began to pull out their guns and begin to fire.
>He made no move to dodge as he ran forward and fired another shell.
>Another would fall gripping his arm. The others didn't seem to care.
Damn it he's here already? I Told you guys to break his legs three times!
>Deadpony was not his usual self. He should be having fun with this but he seemed to find no joy in this. Tossing his shotgun away he would pull out two of his rifles and begin firing them in two directions. Boxes would explode as they were shot, the splinters filling the air enough to cloud the area in chaos.
>Bullets would wiz by Deadpony in the confusion, some even managing to tear into him pretty good. Again he didn't care. One was lucky enough to shoot him in the arm, forcing him to drop one of his rifles.
>The rifle fell to the ground with a thud. Not even bothering about it he would keep firing with the other until it eventually ran out of ammo. This would not hinder him one bit as he would pull out his swords and begin charging them head on.
Damn it get out the heavy artillery!
>Two men would come out of a room on the other side of the building with grenade launchers. Each would fire two shells at Deadpony. The resulting explosions would blow him back and light his costume on fire.
>Standing up he would throw the ignited utility belt at the ones holding grenade launchers. The grenades and ammo inside would seem to all go off at once resulting in a devestating explosion that would almost empty the room.
>When the blast subdued the last of the men would lay on his chest injured.
Damn it…son of a bitch ruined months of work.
>As if on cue Deadpony would lift him up slam him against the wall.
Consider it the first payment.
>He held a sword against his neck as he pinned him to the wall. His costume almost completly destroyed in the blast and burns covering his body. His teeth would be visable as he held them close together in with rage.
You think this will work? You think killing up will bring-
>Not even letting him finish blood would fall to the ground. The body falling onto the floor as Deadpony dropped his swords and limped out of the room.
>Cut to hours later. His wounds not yet fully healed as he fell onto his knees in the snow.
I did it…I got the basterds who did this to you.
>He would get no response. The snow already beginning to build up on him. He reaches his hand forward to place a hand a smooth stone surface. As he ran his hand down it he would come to the lettering. As he did tears would fall from his eyes as he leaned his back against it, his head next to the letter "K".
Why god….why won't you let me join them?
>He looks up to the sky. The snow falling heavily. Soon his body would be covered fully. Maybe then he would be able to rest in peace.
If just for a moment… let me be with them again.
>He would close his eyes and his head would turn. The camera zoom out to reveal an apple engraved into the tombstone. Underneath read "Here lies Applejack and son".

Anemone!JEwlE6UPbo 118840

File: 1356988685501.png (268.69 KB, 577x510, an31.png)

>Body riddled with masses of cancer

To find love in…Death is a very confusing thing..

I mean i was betrayed by Dewy,and i was intended to be sacrificed…

>Traces one of the scars on her face.

But Dominic saved me,and he took my place..Despite how cruel i was to him. Even now while i breath my last breath i wonder if I'll be forgiven..i wonder if there god would let something like me in to heaven…just to see him one more time…This is rather silly for something like me to think about….Considering I'm not human.

>Her vision fades to black as the cold embrace of death snubs out her flame.

William T. Spears!KHlaYR4iu2 119004

File: 1356994889264.png (73.94 KB, 218x213, Will_ProddingTheGlasses.PNG)

>What happens when Death dies? Who remembers Death; who celebrates its passing? To a mortal, to triumph over Death is something to be proud of, something to gloat over, to celebrate.

>To a Reaper, the loss of one is more grave than the loss of a hundred mortal lives.

>Reapers are not mortal.

>They have no souls.

>And thus, when their existence is finished…nothing is left.

>Oh yes, there was a body. It was buried with decorum at a lovely and thoughtful funeral, serving its purpose to honor the fallen. But it is, ultimately, and empty gesture for those still alive.

> There always is a body.

>But bodies can degrade and fade into dust, then to nothing at all. The material is fleeting. No. The soul transcends that, it remains when all else is gone.

>Reapers do not have souls. At least, they do not. It was the ultimate sacrifice for attending the living, to transcend mortal death and remain alive for centuries, up to Doomsday if one were careful enough.

>he adjusts his glasses, standing before a grave that will, in time, disappear. Soon any mortal memory of this reaper will fade. And, ultimately, even the Reapers who mourned for them will fade too. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps on Doomsday.

>One thing is for certain.

>Death is eternal. Nonexistence as well.

For all the idiocy I had to endure around such an arrogant, flighty, unabashedly promiscuous individual such as yourself…it is still a shame we did not meet on Doomsday together.

>his expression smooths; his clippers come up to the side of his glasses, adjusting them to a more suitable position

>he turns and walks away from the headstone

>behind him, on the intricately carved marble sits a solitary red rose
>the remaining reaper walks onward, passing headstones worn with time, names obscured by tangling vines

>There is nothing for a Reaper after death.

Star Fall !MrCarnage2 460587


Judith Sutcliff(Master of the Cleavage-arts)!aLEJudith. 460824

File: 1372045713410.jpg (345.67 KB, 800x1000, f7a081967b71de551af2dfd3aa8be2…)

>And so this was the end was it? Well shit, could have gone better ways really. Well that's not true, I mean it would be a more fun way to go but no one else would really like it. And this way they can have that casket open during the funeral…

>Still I had to sit back watching everyone else fight for this place, had to get help from others to do anything any more… Bottom line old age sucks balls.

>Guess I don't need to complain about it any more now… my time is up after all. Gotta let my children and their kids take the touch now. A small part of my is sad about that though, this was burden I carried along with Him… a job to make sure everything was at least ok for everyone here. another part worries what will happen now that I'll be gone. Well this place still stand? Will everyone be ok? is there enough food in the fridge?

>What am I saying of course everything will be fine. This place went through more then anyone one of us dared to hope… Well with a few "renovations" through the years, but this place really did need to be remodel. No mater what, we Sutcliffs keep running the until the race is won and we pass our touch to the next runner…

>That was one of my favourite songs… I hope someone plays it at my funeral, I wonder if I can still tell them… Yeah I still can. I have more things to tell them.

>So I said.

Valerie, John, I want you two to know that not matter what you both did with your lives, I always have and always will be proud of both. Same goes for the grand kids. No matter what they do, grandma will be looking down at them with a smile on her face.

I've taught you all that I know and now it's time for you to pass it one and make the best of it yourselves. My time is up… and It's about time I go with the others, I've been keeping then waiting…

>Yeah that's right, I'm the last of us. The last of the first members of this mansion, the last of the first generation to pass on… As my vision fades and my heart preforms it's last beats, I am at peace. I know my kids will bring a bright future to this place… and I finally get to see my the rest of my family again.. and best of all…

…. I'm coming home Sweetie.
This post was edited by its author on .

Edward!ShrimpNSr6 460833

File: 1372046302256.jpg (387.3 KB, 600x888, Edward.Elric.full.1397091.jpg)

Blood stained the cold concrete floor as leaves swished down into the warehouse. The air was still abloom with dust and debris, and hate filled eyes stared down towards a group of figures. The figure with said eyes, was in terrible, terrible condition. His clothes laid ripped to shreds across the room- Leaving only half a sleeveless and a pair of shredded pants to block the warm air. His blonde hair was more of a brown now- The red blood and dust mixing to create a wretched mixture that turned his grand hair into a complete mess. Blood dripped down nearly every part of his body it could have, and to any other man, it seemed impossible- He shouldn't still be standing.

But Ed was to stubborn to give up and die like that.

"Is that all you got you bastards?!" He yelled, taking a few steps forward. The men raised their guns again. Ed simply smiled, and began running forward.

A spray of blood spewed in every direction as a shotgun went off. Well, there went his good arm. His shoulder was completely chunked, gore spewing backwards as what remained of his shirt fell to the floor. He collapsed to his metal arm, coughing up a spew of red syrup. That was his lungs going out on him.

"You think I'll die that easily!?"


Another hole in his lower back. He didn't care anymore- The pain numbed long ago. The blood that poured from his wounds only showed the pure determination that crossed the child- The determination of someone with nothing left to lose.

Ed struggled back up to his knees, and looked up at his killers. How did he get into this situation… He had long forgotten. How long was Al going to take to get here? That was another unknown. Well, at least he was safe. He should be able to handle these thugs, though… Whether or not he will be okay without Ed…

That was the real pain. Right there. It was sharp, through his body, and he did all he could to use his remaining metal hand to stay up. Oh god, Al… What would Al think? What would happen to him? Would he be okay? Ed had faith, but… He… He would never get to see his face again. No. He had to stay alive. He had to survive, for his brothers sake… He couldn't die here.

He struggled back to his knees, looking up at his hopeful killers. 6 against one, and they had the advantage of surprise… Not fair, not fair at all. He had put up a good struggle, and the men that littered the field were more then an example of that, but… There were just to many for one Alchemist to take alone…

From behind the men, he saw a figure- A suit of armor. A man in a suit of armor. No… His brother. A smile tried to reach Eds face, but before he could even cough up the blood in an attempt to yell out his brothers name, the men shot their guns once again.

Ed's body fell backwards, time slowing as he fell through the air. There it went. That was probably his heart. In a second or two, his body would give up, his brain would fail, and he would be dead. Not even a philosphers stone could save him here. He was really in the deep end, and he didn't know how to swim.

While he was falling, his life flashed before his eyes. All the friends, enemies he had made. All the people he had helped, and all those he had let down… They were souls. All of them. Crying out from the afterlife he would soon be joining them in. He thought about his goals with his brother- He would never get his arm back, or his leg… He would never get his brothers body back, either, and… And that hurt him more then any bullet wound could.

His brother was on his body now. He had already beaten the men to death. Guess his heart wasn't hit… Not that it mattered at this point. He was beyond the point of death- He was a dead man breathing. Well, trying to breath. He couldn't anymore. His brother was saying something illegible- Ed couldn't hear it. He couldn't hear anything. He could hardly see.

It was strange, though… Despite the fact that he was here, dying… Alone with his brother… It was the first time since his mother had died… That he had actually felt closer to his family, and more loved then he ever had before.

It was finally over. And he was still just some damn shorty.

Sheogorath!CyJ.Bc.Vtg 460857

File: 1372047411314.jpg (104.74 KB, 780x845, the_doomsday_by_chopsticks_84-…)

The Daedra have no rest, no escape. What they do, they live with. Sheogorath knows this the most. He looks up from the corpses before him at the barren wasteland. There had been a world here. Forests and creatures, people and villages, friends and enemies. Gone and dead. Replaced by grey and crystal. They were insects, tiny lifeforms unaware of so much, yet continued to worry about this and that as if it actually mattered. And now they were dead. But who had they been. Sheogorath scowled at the corpses. He knew pieces of them, but his mind shifted and twisted them every second, never agin to be remembered clearly.
The pink one…. had it been him that became a woman? Whose half demon daughter had returned from places unknown?
No No No, that was the red head child with the bleeding breast. The Half demon was the Lovely mercenary's wife. Quite the boring woman……
Sheogorath slumped on the crystal he sat upon. He looked to Haskill, twisted and broken like a puppet beaten to splinters. "Haskill? Haskill~"
Sheogorath waved his hand in fornt of the corpse.
"I did name you Haskill, right?"
Sheogorath asked fearfully.
"Or was it Flamburg? Or Alice? TELL ME!"
He shook the broken corpse. He dropped it and fell back weeping.
"Everything….. it was so nice before…."
He pounded his head.
He tried desperately to cling to the memories of the pleasant world before, but they twist in his grip, or slipped out like water. The Greymarch may have destroyed it all, but Sheogorath's own mind stripped it away forever. He couldn't restore this world, or even his realm, to the way it was before. Just a twisted fragment version.
A hand fell on his shoulder.
"Come on, pal."
Sanguine said.
"I'll help you plow your new land."
Sheogorath looked up at him.
"Besides isn't it boring looking at the same place for too long? Get some new mortals to hang out with. Not like there are new ones just around the corner."
Sanguine chuckled. Sheogorath frowned and looked that the corpses once more. How did these get here? Had he done this? Well if he had, they deserved it. He smiled and stood up. He snapped his finger and the all turned to dust.
"Bah, what a boring place. How did we end up here?"
He asked Sanguine. Sanguine shrugged.
"Beats me. You were the one out here in the first place."
The two walked off. One uncaring of the slaughter that had befallen this world, the other unknowingly grieving his part in the destruction of it all.
This post was edited by its author on .

Josuke Higashikata!clKq9xJoJo 460860

File: 1372047607858.png (105.18 KB, 489x750, tumblr_moqcvlMjgT1qip2llo1_r1_…)

>Meanwhile, somewhere in town, Josuke lies in the middle of the street on his back, fading in and out of consciousness, the whole world going quiet for a split second, silence drowning the screams.

>"Huh… Is this really how it ends… Can't say I expected it to end like this."

>heavy internal bleeding, cuts, bruises, broken bones. Oddly, his hair isn't harmed at all, other than appearing to have some blood on it.

>Figures, his whole family cursed. Anyone associated with the Joestar lineage, even those not related by blood like the Zepelli's, all cursed to be denied a peaceful death.

>"Crazy Diamond… Are you there…? Dad…? Mr. Jotaro…? Koichi and Okuyasu?"

>No reply

>"Everything is cold… I can't feel anything…"

>Josuke may be a strong boy, he's been through more in his 16th year of age then most people have gone through in their life time. But for the first time in a long long time, he cries. The difference between the tears of a child and the tears of a man, is that a man knows when tears are necessary.

>"No, I don't want to die… Not like this…"

>The last thing Josuke sees, is the faint image of his friend from Morioh, all of them, whether it was God telling him to stay strong or a hallucination from blood loss, isn't known to him. But upon seeing all his friends, including his dad and Jotaro, Josuke smiles.

>"Guess it isn't so bad… Ready Diamond?"

>Josuke feels a quick surge of pain all throughout his body as he is engulfed in a large explosion, killing him almost instantly. As the smoke clears, all that is left of him is his Love & Peace Medalliions.

>In front of the crime scene is a blonde haired man in a business suit, adjusting his tie and waving back his hair.

…Ah… Finally… My normal quiet life begins… Now…

>the man walks away, double taking at the scene to see a ghostly image in the sky… A young adult in a outlandish school uniform and a pompadour. The image fades as quickly as it appeared.


>the man finally walks away from the scene, leaving behind what was once left of Josuke Hgashikata.

Anghel Higure!angel9ap0o 460871

File: 1372048024562.png (396.68 KB, 500x698, shuunanakitogether5ever.png)

>he was in the clutches of the Dark Sorcerer Wallenstein.
>he was bound. shackled. to a rough wooden plank, within a room lit far too brightly to be a cell. he could only stare at that one patch of the ceiling, covered in mold and mildew. if he tried hard enough, he could turn his head to the right, and see the edges of strange machinations. turning his head to the left revealed nothing.
>his wings were raw. the bat-like one had been scraped so many times he'd lost count. the demonic sorcerer had blighted his one angelic wing, so he had to resort to the only viable option; plucking out all the feathers. that was when the sorcerer first decided to bind his limbs.
>breathing is hard. he's convinced the sorcerer cast some sort of spell on him to make that hard, too. each breath is made with great, wheezing difficulty, sometimes preceding a nasty cough. he's been coughing up his sins lately. sometimes somebody will come by, and wipe it off, but they rarely show their face. he dislikes their visage anyway; they lack mouths, but a voice still comes.
>he can't understand the voices, either. they say things. lots of things. sometimes they accompany gentle touches, caresses, warmth, but he's convinced it's another trick of Wallenstein. ever since he lashed out at him, the sorcerer made sure to bind him in place. now he could only sit there while the sick magician stroked him.
>sometimes he was hurt, too. pricked, poked, stabbed, all on purpose. it was by the sorcerer, he was certain. or… maybe one of his apprentices.

>there. he could still make noise. he regretted it almost instantly afterwards. his throat ached even more.
>it was Wallenstein's fault. all his fault, that his throat was sore, his wings raw, his chest aching, his vision reduced… all Wallenstein's fault.


>Doctor Iwamine stood out of the room in the hospital, clipboard in hand. this definitely was not his normal position. he was supposed to be back at Pigeonation's, attending the infirmary, as usual; but no, the aging partridge was here, in the Town.

>he was the only one that knew what was happening with Akagi Yoshio.
>really, he had no clue why the others couldn't tell. it was obvious enough.
>the "others" happened to include his coworker, Mister Nanaki. Nanaki Kazuaki peered through the window and its open blinds. the blond kept his eyes on his former student. they had broken out the restraints for this particular patient. that was on top of all the sedatives they gave him, too.
>that glassy stare he had… it was disturbing, to say the least.
>Iwamine raises an eyebrow at his coworker's discomfort.

Something bothering you, Kazuaki?

>the button quail sighs, flopping into one of the chairs just outside of the room. he hugs the pillow he brought with him.

You're sure there's no cure, Shuu?
>he'd asked this question at least ten times by now.

Certain. I've been researching Mister "Higure" as he calls himself since he enrolled in the academy on scholarship. There is absolutely no permanent cure for his hallucinations.
>he flips a paper in his clipboard, and scribbles something on the document beneath it.
I was certain of one thing from the start, that they would never cease growing, so this was all an eventuality.
>he takes the document out of the clipboard, examining it in the dim lights of the psych ward hallway.
… although I correctly predicted stabbing into his own breast, I was unable to predict Yoshio successfully clawing out his own eye.

>Nanaki huffs, burying his face into his fluffy pillow.

What now, then, Shuu?

>he glances sideways at the quail.
The laws of this land do not allow humane euthanization, Kazuaki, so there is really only one thing we can do.
>the chukar partridge looks through the blinds, at the sick young bird lying in bed, the one with bandages all over, raw wings covered in bloodied dressings, restraints holding his limbs down, one blue eye keeping a glassy gaze on the ceiling.
We wait for nature's mercy.

Lambda-11!aLEJudith. 460888

File: 1372048600110.jpg (93.48 KB, 500x284, tumblr_mfawn2Vb561ryd2pfo1_500…)

Warning… Warning… Damage levels at extreme levels… shutting down all systems to prevent further damage…

>"Hurt… It hurts so much… but I can be repaired right? Then everything will be back to normal… As if this never happened."

>Some time later what's left of Lambda floats in her regeneration tank. Her body once again disconnected from her mind. Through her still open eyes, she can see the professor looking up at her.

*Sigh* This damage is too much, her whole body is gonna have to be scrapped. Shit, if only I was sooner I could have prevented this…

>The woman shows emotions that Lambda had never seem before. Shame… regret… sorrow….

>"Why does she look like that? Yes I may need a new body now, but I'll still be me. Soon it'll be as if this never happened…"

Lambda… I'll be able to carry over all your programming and date over to your new body… but your memories… I… there's no way I'll be able to copy them. It won't have enough space for what you've learned and experienced. I'm sorry.

>While there was no outer reaction, Lambda was shaken to the core by this.

>"What!? What do you mean by that?! Y-you can't make me forget everything! Please please don't make me forget!! Just do something else! Anything else!!

You'll probably be like what you were before we got here, just another empty shell I made… You can hate me all you want for this Lambda, but it's the only way to save you… people want you to be saved. I want you to be saved.

>"WHAT IF I DON'T WANT TO BE!? What if I want to die! what if I want to hold on to everything that makes me what I am!? YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!!"

Once I press this Enter key it'll all be over. As if this never happened. Maybe one day you can be yourself again…

>"NO I WON'T!! YOU'RE TAKING EVERYTHING FROM ME YOU BITCH!! YOU'RE TAKING EVERYTHING!! Please please please please don't do this to me! I want to remember everyone! I don't care if I die! I just want to remember! PLEASE LET ME DIE AS ME!!

>the professor presses the key and Lambda screams silently as everything starts to fade away. The memories of the mansion. Of Crona and everyone else she met. No matter how she tried to claw at them, the sand slipped through her fingers. And soon… It was as if it never happened.

Loading… Loading… Loading complete… Imitation Murakumo Unit Lambda-11 functional and awaiting orders…

Empress Glimmer Snuggler!aLEJudith. 460965

File: 1372052347258.jpg (265.3 KB, 1200x1000, 48516 - artist solar-slash pin…)

>The pink pony looks into the mirror ready to start her day off her day. Mane and tail? Poofy. Coat? Pink and shiny. Smile and happy mood? Ever present.

>She smiles and hopes away from the mirror and out the the bathroom.

>but she takes one last look into the mirror as if to say goodbye before going back on her way.

>Her reflection had been more then that at one time. It was her own person with people she loved and cared for. Like herself for example, they both loved each other like sisters. Going out and doing things like eating sweets and buying new weapons…

>Then their was her lover. A handsome young man that loved her back just as much… she loved and missed him so much.

>But… there was someone she hated too. A woman that was stronger then her and would be able to do more for her own lover then she ever could. Or so she thought anyway. This thought though… it drove her to seek to be stronger and better then the other woman, So she pushed herself past her limits every chance she got. Always out the prove she was good enough to be someone. Not just another look-a-like.

>One day this drive to be the best, to prove to herself that she was number one, shatters her. Only then did the reality set in for her. She had been so blind… she sought something she did not have and saw almost nothing of the treasure she already had.. and now last. There was no peace for her now, only regret. On her way to the top she lost everything and gained nothing. Allen, Sparkly… even Ikaros.

>Now she's not even a reflection of a pony in the mirror. She no longer exists. Not in the this world or even in the minds of the people she knew…
This post was edited by its author on .

RED!sCuNT5RnV6 460987

File: 1372053480080.png (687.4 KB, 796x1083, tumblr_mkjbviHxsO1rc5y8xo2_128…)

>Capturing the Flag. He always hated this mission. It was a stalemate every time they were stationed in that spot. Sentries here, snipers there, underground nests of teleporters and dispensers, it was nothing too special. Except this time, they had to worry about one thing that he nor his teammates have ever thought about especially: Death.

>The respawn system went haywire. It was irreparable. Not even their team's Engineer could fix it. On the brighter side, it malfunctioned on the BLU team as well, so they are on equal terms. This doesn't save them from the fact that everyone on RED could eventually die, however.

>Heavy and Medic were talking to each other, making promises that one will protect the other.

>Soldier was giving a speech, as usual. No one really listened to them, but he didn't care. He told them anyways. Sometimes, Scout would listen to them, though. Before, they were full of encouragement and excitement. This speech, though… it had a slight sound of sadness to it.

>Pyro was mumbling to himself. No one really did understand that.. thing, but boy, was he a blast at parties. He'd make everyone laugh, whether or not they could hear him talking.

>Demoman was scrounging up the last of his bottles of poisonous alcohol, drinking like it's the last day of his life. Scout wouldn't be surprised if he died of alcohol poisoning right then and there.

>Engineer was polishing up his buildings. His sentry, dispenser, teleporters, everything. They were like a family to him. A family he didn't want to lose.

>Sniper was on the phone, calling his mom and dad again. It was hard for him to not talk through tears over the phone, but he managed to explain the situation and reassure that he'll be fine.

>Spy was standing nonchalantly. All calm and cool-like. He looked like he was unaffected by the situation, but we all knew that he, too, was worried.

>Scout himself, he tried to keep his cool. Saying things like he'll wipe out the team before they even know it. Encouraging himself that he and his team will all be alive and drinking in the end.

Start fighting now!

"To War!"

>Soldier was the first to go. He charged in, screaming his war cry and heading straight into the enemy's territory while getting rid of the replacement BLU Scout on the way to the intelligence room. He could not hear the sound of the sentry around the corner over his scream, unfortunately.

>Pyro had the worst death of all. It knew its job well, and took another route to flank the enemy. As soon as it turned the corner, it was greeted with a wound up Mini-gun and an opposing Heavy. He didn't go down without a fight, though. He lit the Heavy on fire and swung his axe as hard as he could, but he was riddled with bullets before he could get the last swing. Thankfully, his death was not in vain, for as soon as he died, the Heavy burnt to death, nearly taking a bite from his Sandvich.

>It seems that both of our Demoman had the same idea. They were both drunk off their asses, yelling profanities at each other and shooting sticky grenades and pipe grenades one-by-one. Eventually, our Demoman finally hit the trigger, and obliterated the BLU Demoman to Kingdom Come. What he was not able to see with his one eye, though, was a glowing blue pipe grenade at his feet.

>The Heavy and the Medic. An inseparable and dangerous pair that one would not want to see around the corner. They mowed down an enemy Medic that was charging in with his last life. A fool, that one. But just as soon as they were retreating to restock on ammunition, the Heavy was met with a fully charged bullet into his cranium. The Medic cried in both anguish and sadness. He pulled the Heavy away, desperately trying to heal and revive him from the death that has fallen upon his most trusted ally among the team.

>The Engineer was holed up in the intelligence room. Hiding behind his Sentry and his Dispenser with a Teleporter on the opposite end. He was too shaken up to worry about placement, or techniques either, to remember them. Fortunately, the Soldier on the BLU team was too stupid to remember that sentries were always in the Intelligence room. Soon, he hears a beeping from his monitor. His teleporter was being sapped, as usual. He runs over to it and does the worst mistake an Engineer could do: stand on his own teleporter. Before he knew it, he was torn apart by the disguised enemy Spy that was waiting for him to remove the sapper from his teleporter. One can only assumed what happened next to the last of the defense team.

>Medic was enraged. His ubercharge was full and he needed someone to help him kill as many people as he can to avenge his fallen comrade. Spy was no where to be seen and Scout was hiding somewhere, probably being the coward he is. The Sniper was the only competent one left. He found him up in the balcony, under a constant competition with the enemy's Sniper to see who could nab the other first. The Medic had no choice. As soon as he healed him, he made them both invincible. The Sniper was surprised, but could not waste the opportunity. He stood out in the open, invincible, and scoped in and took the shot at his rival. The competition was finally over. The celebration was short-lived, for as soon as the Uber wore off, the BLU Pyro swooped in and engulfed the both of them in flames. The Sniper's only last thoughts were apologies to both his mother and father, for not staying alive long enough to see them again, and for not being more than just an assassin.

The Medic was also burnt, but was alive long enough to kill his enemy. He was on the brink of death. All the experiments he could have done, all of the scientific studies that he could have improved, many of the vacations that he and his team could have taken were all burnt away from him. And soon, so did he.

>The Spy was a cunning one. He managed to sap the BLU Engineer's buildings and kill the Engineer all in one turn. After finishing the job, he disguised himself as an enemy Pyro and ran towards the Intelligence Room. He had the unfortunate view of seeing the death of RED's Pyro and Soldier, but focused more on the mission. He has not seen Scunt anywhere, though, but was relieved when he saw him crouching at the bottom of the stairs to the intel room. If he's there, then that means there is possibly some danger ahead.

"Scout, tell me what am I to expect if I were to go in." He demanded.

"There was a Pyro ahead! He nearly burnt me to a crisp!"

>With that information, he went ahead, being careful of the flames that could have ensued. Before he could move, though, a sharp stinging pain struck his spine. He fell over and looked back at who could have done it, only to see the grinning face of the RED Scout… no… the BLU Spy.

>Scout was in the sewers of the area by himself. He knew it as soon as the announcements stated it.

Your friends are all dead! Do not disappoint me!

>Tears were in his eyes. He cried then and there, his gun to his side, his head on his knees, he was vulnerable. He had to get over it quickly and go for the intelligence. He needed to avenge his team. He took his gun and ran all the way to the intelligence room. Blurred by his tears, he reached the room that could end this terrible battle. Before he could grab the suitcase of papers, two shots from a Revolver were sounded into the room and the last RED was on one knee. The last enemy appeared, the BLU Spy. He wanted to enjoy killing the last member of the RED team, for he grudged over the many dominations and deaths that this fool of a mercenary could ever do to him. Before he could get the last shot on the downed Scout, he was shot once in his arm by the Scout's pistol and again in the abdomen. He looked up from his wounds and saw the gun pointed at him.

"Dominated, ya shapeshiftin' rat!"

>and the BLU Spy dropped dead onto the floor. With that final death, he took the BLU intelligence and dragged it all the way back to his base. Going past the lifeless corpse of the Spy, the mangled bodies of the Soldier and Pyro, the remnants of the Demoman, the large, unmoving body of the Heavy, the charred and burnt Medic and Sniper, and finally, the torn Engineer and his beloved buildings. At least, he was in the intelligence room, ready to finally capture the flag. He moved closer and closer to the end zone, feeling triumphant in his duty. Then, he hears the sound of a Dead Ringer being deactivated.

>A gunshot. The Intelligence was shot off of his hands. Another one. Both of his legs were shot and he was down on the floor. He looks up in pain to see the BLU Spy he assumed was dead. Fully healed and grinning down at him, with his gun pointed at his head.

"Any last words before I finish you off?"

>Scout ignored his question. He was acting on his own as he said his final statement.

"Sorry, Wade. Looks like you'll be losing another pal. This time, for good."

>The final gunshot was given. The entire RED team has been killed and BLU team has won by default.

"Here lies Scout. He ran fast, and died a virgin."

Rip Van Winkle!.ZzGrellBs 461032

File: 1372055632822.jpg (210.92 KB, 559x841, Hellfire_Dark Fire.jpg)

>It was a land of Death. She didn't know why she was subjected to such hellish torment, but every moment that passed she wished she could die. Of course, she was already dead, she had died on that rooftop trying in vain to avenge him. What a failure she had been, in those moments, knowing she had failed yet again in her assigned duty. She doubted her one successful kill even was hers really.


>Not that it mattered anymore. Vampires didn't go to Heaven.

Die Wölfe … sie sind für mich kommen!

>She always ran. She never slept, never ate. Her deaths were always different because she learned. The first was a horribly slow death, caught before she could gain a sense of where she was. Wolves tore through her, shredding teeth and snapping jowls rending her apart in seconds.

>The second went only marginally longer. When she gained awareness, she took to her feet and ran as fast as she could. The howls followed after her, the thudding of paws drumming against blood-red dirt and spiny bramble of a burning landscape. A gorge of fire blazed before her. She thought she could make the jump.

>Over time she learned the landscape, always hoping to evade the wolves, to escape. The pain of being torn apart was agonizing. At most she survived for a week before being caught, but even then life was hell. She was running, jumping, hiding. The times where she would try sleeping, a wolf's growl would start her like an electrical charge, and off she would go once more.

>It's been three days. She's done better, her energy is better, her regeneration not far away enough for her fatigue to let in. She was hungry, but not starving. Blood would never sustain her; there were only wolves around, and they would tear her to shreds before she could manage to draw a single drop of blood.

>She hears the wolves approach and lets out a breath. There's once shot with this new attempt to escape the island surrounded by fire, and a charred log was her only means of escape. The paws thumping the ground grow louder, and with a loud cry, she shoves the log as hard as she can.

>It rolls down the slope. She listens on edge, and hears the collective cry of many wolves caught by surprise. After a moment, she peers over the rock she hid behind, her scratched glasses sliding down her nose.

>the log stretches across the gap of the gorge of fire, smashed wolves crushed on the ground, and fires roaring up from the sounds of agonized howls.

Ich bin frei…!

>She trembles in shock. The hellbeasts were dead…she was free! Her heart swells, red dust kicking up as she runs down the slope. The log is crumbling from the fire, but she'd make it!

Ja! Freiheit!

>She jumps onto the log and leaps across, the flames licking her clothes and her hair, but orange ground meets her as the log crumbles into the gorge below.

>She trembles, her eyes welling with tears from the ash and her own feelings. She did it! She could still hear the howls of the wolves, but in the fiery pit they would be burning to death, and they deserved it the damn dirty dogs-

>Something closes around her throat and lifts her into the air with ease. Her eyes widen as her glasses fly onto the ground, a foot coming down onto the lenses with a short crunch. She kicks and flails with a choking gasp as her airway constricts, her eyes still streaming from the ash. She blinks rapidly, only able to see a dark figure looming before her.

>She hears a voice; a terrifyingly familiar baritone with a cruel crooning tone.

I've finally caught you…Rip. Van. Winkle.

>Her eyes bulge, her kicks growing more frantic. She manages one choking gasp of complete fear, her fingers grasping in vain around an unyielding clenching hand.


>She hears a heartless chuckle. The howls of the wolves echo in her head. She feels him pull her closer, then with a sudden thrust, throw her back into the pit of flames and burning wolves.

Anna And Glorya!aLEJudith. 461045

File: 1372056489983.jpg (443.97 KB, 849x677, sample_67ded93553cb4fb6ddc9213…)

>Fuck it can't end like this… Not with how everything had been going for her. She had all that she could ask for now. A man that loved her.. two beautiful babies to take care of and watch grow.. so many things that she had to look forward to.

>She can see them looking down at the both of them. Everyone the two cared about… She tried her best to reform, do anything to remain stable and alive. But it in the end, she could do nothing. This time, she couldn't cheat death.

>So she takes one long last look at the people she cared about.

>Matilda who would grow up without someone to guide her, just like herself.
>Appleslice who she promised to never leave. A promise she was breaking now.
>Wade… Oh god Wade. She was killing him… In her mind she begged him to be strong, strong enough to go one with out her strong enough to make sure the children are taken care of.

>It was all she could do to hope. She was no longer able to remain here. So her body melts into a black puddle of goo and soon that too was gone having become dust in the wind now… She left everything she had behind.

>It was finally over. Nothing much left for her anyway. Unlike her sister, she had now kids no love on her life… No that wasn't ture, she was losing just as much as Glorya was… maybe more.

>Two godkids, a handful of good buddies… a home to call her own again.

>But there was a lot of stuff she left behind in her old home as well. A husband and kid.. things she didn't want taken from her in the first place..

>Everything was down hill from then. For all she had, she was still the home wrecker, the angel bitch, some one few people wanted anything to do with… perhaps it was better this way, she could have everything she wanted back with her again. Though… Glorya shouldn't have had to go with her. She's going to suffer the same fate as she had; torn from what she cared for most.

>But there was nothing Anna could do about that, so she too faded away just like her sister. Dust in the wind, finally reunited with what she had been taken from so long ago.

Hueco Mundo!MEOWKdWFcQ 461074

File: 1372064946422.jpg (48.43 KB, 500x359, tumblr_mkx2b37DT11s7pwv2o1_500…)

This isn't really a death post, it's more of a reaction to linked death post. It's not great, but I have insomnia and a need something to make me sleepy.

>So what do you do when the one thing you care most about in this world is taken from you so suddenly, without even the chance to say good bye or make amends for every mistake you've made with them? For Hueco.. The only answer is to give in.

>Only one person has ever accepted him as a true friend… More than just a mere friend even. That person has the only one to ever bring Hueco hope for life and gave him the strength to keep on moving.

>All of it, just memories, nights with the birds head rested against his chest, teaching Anghel how to cook or play menial games, sleepless nights staying up late and drawing… All forever out of reach.

>It's just as Anghel told him, birdies live forever, demons don't…

>The demon sits on the roof tops, over looking the skies. Everyone Hueco once knew had died of old age years ago or had died in combat… As the saying goes, the brightest flame burns quickest.

>People who visit the mansion see him up there on the roof, even if someone throws a rock near or at him, the most response made out of him is a grunt of pain or something similar. No one knows the story of him, all he ever does, is look out at the horizon, day and night, only going inside the mansion to eat or relieve himself.

>All he does, is sit out there and stare out into space, as if waiting for someone to arrive at his side.

>Someone to dry his tears after a hard day or to tell him about how the publication of his manga is going.

>Someone like Anghel

>But we all know that will never happen… Not again.. For without a soul, Anghel is forever out of reach.

Deadpony!DeadTIX9Kc 461228

File: 1372100337486.png (1.44 MB, 892x918, tumblr_m6q3p4rSMZ1rwlp6jo1_128…)

How long have I been…since I last told a joke?

>Truly this was a question that demanded an answer. Wondering through the desert landscape walked a man dressed in red. Other the the unitard on his frame he showed no signs of desiring protection from the sun's harsh rays.

How long as it been since I met anyone worth telling a joke to?

>This man had left the manor he once called home long ago. He like the many others before him had moved on from the constant dangers of living under that roof and tried to find greener pastures. However like most of his exploits, this one was also doomed from the start. For unlike most of the residents that dwell their now this one had been at it for well over a millenia, time in which the ones he called friends couldn't follow. All those he dared to call friends had long departed this world, his beloved taken before her time before his very eyes, his children long gone and so many generations passed his pressance didn't seem to matter anymore. For so long he wondered the world seeking something even he had forgotten what life back then was like.

Guess it…doesn't really matter.

>His thoughts were now his only source of companionship as he continued his aimless journey across the planet's vast landscape. Through all the changes in politics, technology, even relationships across the stars he has yet to find one who could truly end his life. In the end the merc with the mouth had lived and suffered through his greatest fear, being alone.

Dammit why…

>He stops in the middle of the desert he clinches his fists and shouts to the heavens.


>No answer came to him. His pleas fell upon death ears as it seems even the gods themselves had abandoned him. His entire body trembling, he falls to his knees and slams his fist into the ground.

Just please…after all this time… give me what I want damn it.

>He sits in silence as he longfuly awaits the answer. It was hear in the middle of the desert was where he had finally given up searching for death. It had eluded him for far to long. For it was only now that he sits here, and waits for death to find him. And so he sits, the sand piling up around him eventually covering his entire body. He makes no effort to escape, neigh any words to comment of it. He hoped with all his heart that it would finally be here in the desert, the sand filling up his lungs, tearing at his flesh, the sun cooking him alive, that this would finally be his end.

Matilda Wilson!aLEJudith. 461250

File: 1372106702656.png (90.47 KB, 400x225, 400px-Homura_M26_1.png)

>Now was not the time to be afraid, for a secret agent no time was a time to be afraid. She had been captured by the enemy alive, unlike the rest. Maybe they thought they could make her talk cause she was "still a kid."

>That's where they made there mistake, thinking she was just playing pretend and they could crack her with enough time. Make her tell them where the rest were… She wasn't going to say a word. She swore to herself that where the rest that had escaped would be a secret that died with her.

>And she still had what she needed to make good on that oath. These people were stupid, got complacent cause of how easy it was to capture her. They took the weapons she had on her at the time, and her ability to open portals to get more… but there were two things they missed. A combat knife and a grenade, both of which she kept right where her heart would be if she was born with one.

>She waited for her moment, the chance to put her plan into motion. While she did, she took everything in. On here way to the room they were going to interrogate her in, she saw plenty of gas lines in the halls. Surly one spark would be all this placed needed to get blown sky high…

>Then her chance came, one of the people taking her to the room stopped to talk to a guard. She took the knife out of her chest and slit his throat in one swift motion. Then she took out the other guy with a well placed stab right into the eye. The guard was still stunned be the turn of events and the sudden brutality the girl had shown. He begged her to let him live, said he had a family back home and he was just here to make ends meet.

Yeah? Well guess what, I had a family too.

>She took a hand gun from one of the bodies and put a bullet into the guard's head before he had the sense to pull the alarm. But someone was going to soon anyway. Time was not on her side after all. So she took what she could from the three bodies around her; some ammo, a low lever security key card, some string from a tear in the guards uniform, and a stick of bubble gum. All she needed.

>She pops the gum in her mouth and starts chewing as opens the security door before her and dashes down the hall. She had to get in deep as possible lure as many of them in as she could. Once she turns the corner, the alarm goes off and she knows it won't be long before they corner her. She follows the pipes to their source taking out any of the guards that crossed her path.

>They may have been good shots and well armed, but they weren't taught be her father and were all too human. Those were the factors that let her come out alive every time. Soon she made it to her destination. The room where all the gas in the facility was monitored and and controlled.

>She quickly went to work first taking the gum she has been chewing and placing a wad on each side of the door then using the string and gun to rig a trap for them when they came rushing in. Now for the next part, increasing the pressure in the lines so they were ready to were ready to burst and disable the pressure release valves to ensure the job was done. By the time she was ready the pipes were cracked and leaking gas all over and the trap had fired, but it wasn't enough of a speak apparently, telling her they where here.

…. Humo Humo.

>She she glances back at them. now there were taking her seriously, ready to kill her at any moment. Too bad for them it was too little to late. They told her to turn around with her hands up… so she did, but not before taking the pin out of her grenade and dropping to the floor next to her.

See you in hell fuckers.

>And so the Wilson family met it's end there. but Matilda was happy to know she went out with a bang.

>One that would have made her father proud.

Sasuun Vongola!daStoRmSRg 461830

File: 1372131416185.jpg (83.47 KB, 1920x1080, Dead.jpg)

>So this is it, huh? This is the end?
>I never thought it would happen like this, but here we are.
>He looks up, seeing a tall figure with black wings towering over him, then around him, at the black silhouettes of what seemed to be all his friends, family; everyone he knew, fighting for their lives.
>I have to help them, I can't leave without making sure they're safe!
>..But, what can I do? I try to move my arm, I try to pick myself up, but nothing happens.
>He sees one of the black silhouettes rushing over to him.
>Who is that? Why would they try and save me? This is the end, right?
>The person bends down, and puts a hand to his cheek.
>Who is this? This hand.. feels so warm.. so familiar..
>He can feel little drops falling onto his face.
>Are those.. tears..? Is someone crying..?
>He tries to think, but all he gets is black nothingness.
>He once again tries to move, open his eyes; anything to tell this person it'll be alright.
>..But he knows it's useless.
>Suddenly, he feels a weight on his chest, as if someone is laying their head on him.
>He looks down to see the same silhouette, still not being able to tell who it is, but can at least tell it's.. a girl?
>Who is this..? Are they crying because of me..?
>He once again sees the figure with wings begin to come closer, and he knows he's met his end.
>In one last, desperate struggle, he reaches his hand up to the cheek of the crying girl, and rubs it gently.
>He could feel tears roll down her face and onto his hands.
>They felt.. good somehow
>The black figure then closes in, and suddenly everything goes black.
>It's over now. Nothing matters anymore.

>For this, is the end.


File: 1372325314354.jpg (105.16 KB, 900x1273, 1366605087750.jpg)

>Monello wasn't sure who or what exactly the things that attacked were…and she really didn't care…

>…But they were strong…way too strong even for the people here.

>They got Josuke early on, so he wasn't around to keep people in the fight with Crazy Diamond.

>A lot of other people fell, one by one, some of them took some of the enemies with them when they fell, others were just cut down before they had a chance to do anything.

>A lot of them, Monello didn't even know and had never seen before.

>Styx….no…Rocks fought well, at least during the part of the fight she was able to see him, but even he fell.

>"Terry" led the cavalry charge to try and save those at the front line, but it wasn't long before he too was overwhelmed, along with the others that charged with him.

>So many bodies…those she recognized, those she didn't.

>The guy she liked so much at the Tournament….ripped to shreds, in as many patches as his patched coat once was, his blades strewn around his body or still sticking out of the bodies of those he faced. He fought well, when death came for him he never gave up until the last.

>Even the Deadpool looking guy ended up dying…his head several feet from his body.

>The ones that hit her worst though, were Jojo and Fio. Fio had shoved her out of the way of a killing blow meant for her, and then Jojo was cut down trying to protect her as well.

>Smoke and flames filling the air, the attackers didn't even give her of any of the others a moment to grieve…and anyone who took that moment had been cut down without remorse…

>Still she fought on…the numbers dwindling on both side, sometimes one by one, sometimes two by two, sometimes a resident would take out multiple before falling, other times the residents were cut down like blades of grass.

>One by one they fell…

>Neither ally nor foe was given reprieve.

>Not even death was spared…

>One by one they fell…

>Sometimes two by two..

>Like the drops from her own wounds…

>Everything kept falling down…

>But still she kept fighting…trying to survive…

>Even if she couldn't dodge every blow, she could at least move enough to make them less severe.

>Her head fuzzy, her sight fading…all she could see was one last enemy…the fighting seemed to be dying down…or was it just that she couldn't hear it very well.

>Everyone she cared about…and all these others, dead…

>She has no reason to continue fighting…no reason to keep living…

>No…wait…there was one…maybe more than one…

>…If she gave up now…Fio would laugh at her…If she stopped now…Jojo would probably pat her on the head, but he'd disapprove of her not avenging him…she hurts all over…she's having trouble standing…she can barely see or hear anything…but…if she just lay down now…she'd never forgive herself.



"…I…can't…come with you yet…"

"…I'm…gonna be…a bit…longer…"

>To her side, she sees her Stand, as exhausted and battered as her…and he seems unable to even get back to his feet…almost unmoving, though as she glances at him he tries to get up…and fails.

"…Sorry Eye….lend me…all of your power…just one more time…okay?"

>She takes a deep breath…

"Eye…of…the…Tiger….Requiem. …I can see…everything."

>And then she pounces and lets loose a battle cry as she rains blows upon her foe.




>Did she beat it?…Is it over?…The strain of that last use of her Requiem Stand upon her body has stripped her of her sight…everything is just black.

>Her ears are clogged with blood…but she's not sure she'd be able to hear in any case. If there's anything even to hear anymore.

>She can taste blood in her mouth…but whose is it? Hers? Her enemies? She can't tell.

>She hurts all over….she can't even tell where she hurts cause it all just blends into one mass of pain.

>She staggers to her feet…is she still alive?…Did she somehow survive…thanks to others dying in her stead?

>…Have her families left her behind again…to let her live on another day?…

>…As she fully to her feet, she wobbles a bit…and then her head falls forwards….and she doesn't move from that position ever again. Standing…even in death. Her story ends here, her soul drifting off to rejoin her loved ones, not knowing whether her foe lived or died.

>To her, things like that have already ceased to matter, and so, I will leave it up to the reader to decide for themselves, after all, it is for those who live on to tell the stories of those who have passed.

Leeroy!RpQzSCoUts 467172

File: 1372392247244.jpg (Spoiler Image,75.08 KB, 1600x900, 2013-06-26_00001.jpg)


Bad End: Despair

The first strike was learning that he’d hopped dimensions.

The reasons all came back to him as he took his death march through the night to his chosen spot on the hill. Leeroy hadn't been quite the same since he learned that he was no longer in his birth dimension. Whenever you talked to him, it’d seem like something was bothering him, but you could never get him to say what that was. Part of the problem was that if he went to the Ponyville here, there would be no Gallowglass family; none of his old friends, no smell of his mother’s forge creating a new bladed masterpiece, nothing that made his town home. With the loss of his hometown, Leeroy was alone. Well, there were his friends and associates in this world, but nobody could ever fill the void that the loss of his family and old, stable, calm life had left.

He soaked in the sights, sounds, and sensations of The Town at night as he passed through. The usual helpings of violence and general insanity reminded him of the second strike.

He simply couldn't withstand the sheer lunacy that was life in this world.

It terrified him, as it would most anyone in his situation. At any moment, some cyborg monster could come around and take his life. Some faction of power-hungry idiots could come along and start wrecking his new home. Some flying spaghetti monster could show up and start consuming the Town. Then all the scantly-clad teenage girls with magical sledgehammers or whatever would come out of the woodwork and beat those threats down.

As he came to the outskirts of The Town, he remembered the third strike. He wasn't one of the super powered magical folks who could actually stop threats. Sure, he could try to plan and organize his mansion comrades, but it fell on deaf ears. He could shoot at the perpetrators, but he was basically throwing rocks at them compared to the guy with the death ray. No matter what he did, there was always someone who could do it far better than him with half the effort and no amount of training or dedication could fix that.

Speaking of training, being back in the woods where he’d occasionally camp out reminded him of reason number four. His life had become a stagnant loop of training in vain, sitting behind a counter, and dodging whatever fuckery the world decided to throw at him next. Hell. He’d been lucky he hadn't gotten mauled when he came out to these woods for his few respites from the madness. He’d contemplated going back to the woods a few times as a less extreme measure, but he could only carry so much ammo, and his bug-out kit would only last him so long.

Looked like it was time to go to whatever “innawoods” existed to escape from reality.

By now, he’d reached the clearing on the hill he meant to do the deed upon. He drew his sidearm, the 1911 he’d put together from carefully selected parts, the 1911 that had served him so faithfully since he was first able to legally carry it, and now the 1911 that would set him free. He rested the barrel against his jugular, aiming up and back at his medulla oblongata. If the bullet didn't penetrate through to there, he’d bleed to death within the minute.

Everything was set for his demise.

If anyone wanted to know why he did this, they could listen to the audio note he’d left on a flash drive on his desk. Atop a paper with "Why" written on it.

Leeroy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No final thoughts, just the prospect of peace. No final words, for there was no one to hear them. He gently squeezed on the trigger, and…


>continued when I get to be in the mood.
This post was edited by its author on .

Leeroy!RpQzSCoUts 468543

File: 1372469166377.jpg (17.23 KB, 218x246, !TeenNash_yougotsplainintodo.j…)

Leeroy growled to himself as he ejected the ineffective round.

“Fuckin’ duds.” he muttered. “Now of all times!”

He took a moment to examine the bullet. The primer had dented, but it didn’t go off. A whole host of things could have gone wrong with this one, but that didn’t matter right now. He tossed the dud aside and went back to business.

The interruption had taken him out of the proper mindset. As much as he tried to remind himself of why he was here, the commitment just wouldn't come back to him. Grumbling and defeated, Leeroy made his way back to Wayne Manor. The underlying problems were still there, but he’d been distracted long enough to keep from going over the edge. Well, at least this time. He’d survived this attempt, but who was to say there wouldn't be others?

Janet !MrCarnage2 595709

File: 1382059155650.jpg (82.47 KB, 743x1000, Tears with a smile.jpg)

>A large room, full of people of all shapes, backgrounds and affiliations. All of which were sitting dining peacefully. Most of them remaining quiet, eyes turned downwards to their plates, unwilling to look at each other for anything longer then a polite smile and nod. All except for a small, fay-like red haired girl, who sat amidst them all on her small wooden chair.

>Looking around the table, she couldn’t help herself from smiling with pride and joy, tears unshed, shining brightly in the room’s candlelight. Here, were assembled her friends and companions, who were sorry to see her leave. And all the sweethearts whom she ever loved, they wished for her to stay but one more day.

>But alas it fell onto her lot, and so she rose while the others did not. Her smile shining brighter then all of the stars in the sky, she raised her voice and spoke out to the silent crowd.

Of all the time that I ever had, I spent it in good company.

And all the harm that I’ve ever done, it was only onto me.

And the things I’ve done, to fill the holes I thought had been missing in my life; I honestly cannot remember.

For all I could ever want, is now assembled right in front of me.

>Raising her glass high above the heads of those most precious to her, she softly called.

Goodnight and joy be to you all.

>And even as a dark figure, whose features where unknowable, laid a hand on her shoulder and gently guided her away from the table, she smiled and sighed knowingly, letting the smell of cigarettes gently guide her away from her pine box bed and into the night.

Goodnight and joy be to you all.

Ferina Spellward!4eri5KglYo 596547

Everyone has bad days. Sometimes you wish you never woke up. This is most certainly one of those days. So imagine my surprise when on a routine visit to the Plane of Magick I, Ferina Spellward High Sorceress of Jurellia,encountered something very, very bad. As in, destruction of all life bad. Now you should know that it is not possible to physically enter the Magick Plane. One sends their soul, conciousness, and magic. If you enter the plane, you must not close the rift until you exit, for the only way to breach the Plane of Magic is to open a gateway from the outside and hold it open. If the gate closes, you die. Your consciousness shatters and your soul is burned to nothing by the wild energies. To die in the Plane of Magic is to die wholly and with no chance of an afterlife. Now, I suppose you wonder what I found.
The form of a young woman, draped in ethereal purple and black robes floated in place. Her legs were together and her arms outstretched. Her hands were each clenched around a length of brightly glowing chain, the two strands stretching up and up, branching off into more stands, growing thicker and thicker. She groaned in pain as she was drug forward by the chains. She started to chant in an undecipherable language, the words thick and ugly yet smooth and beautiful at the same time. They were old words, ones that preceded time. So old that no one knows who first spoke them. They were words of power. Words of Magick.

As she spoke the words she opened her eyes and beheld the fantastical sight. She floated in the middle of an infinite expanse of light and color, hues and shades never before seen dancing among reds and blues. In front of her, held in place only by the two magic chains wrapped around her hands was a massive leviathan of fire and ice. It stood impossibly tall, the beast's head invisible to the Sorceress, it was so far up.

The beast was focused on getting to a rift in the distance. through the rift it could see the real world. It was furious that such a place could exist while it languished in this plane of light and magic. It had to, needed to destroy such a wondrous place.

Ferina howled in agony as the beast continued to drag her forward, only her vast magical power stopping the beast from rushing through. 'I can't let this thing breach the rift. If it gets into the physical world it will be unstoppable. I…I have to close the rift while we're both in here.' As the thought echoed in her head she closed her eyes, knowing what it meant. "So be it. If i must die so they can live…I go to oblivion knowing my people are safe from you." She spoke calmly, having accepted her fate. She began to shout, the Old Words harsh and loud, gentle and quiet. They flowed across her tongue like honey, yet burned and scratched at her throat.

As she shouted louder and louder, the sounds of Magick being called echoing across the infinite, The massive rift began to close. The beast roared with fury, straining against the unbreakable chains holding it back. It slowly inched forward, Ferina the only thing stopping his rampage. The beast only then seemed to notice Ferina holding it's chains. It turned slowly, reaching for her as the rift sealed with a flash.

Ferina smiled darkly, dropping the chains as she watched the massive hand reach for her. Her body began to crack, bright white light shining through. The beast grabbed her and lifted Her up, intending to eat her.

Fenrina felt nothing as the massive fist of fire squeezed her and lifted her to the beast's mouth faster then she thought possible. As her vision grew white, she saw herself being dropped into it's cavernous maw filled with jagged teeth each one twice her size. She closed her eyes and smiled one last time. 'I hope you choke' was the last thought she had.

The avatar of Ferina Spellward, filled with her soul and magic, exploded inside the beast's mouth with as much force as three atom bombs, obliterating the beast completely. After the 'dust' settled, the Plane of Magic continued on, the colorful energies swirling and dancing through the void.
Ferina's body was discovered the next day lying in her tower, in the center of a large rune circle. It was eventually agreed that Ferina was forced to close the rift on herself for some reason, and she was given a extravagant funeral to honor her life.

Michael Maravalle(Cameron) 714991

There's nothing, not any more, and not even infinity lasted infinitely, all the universes burning out eventually.
And yet, there were a great of somethings in the nothing, almost as infinite as the vanished universes.
Almost every single one of them was named Michael, and all of them were the sum of existence, living and dying evermore in the timeless nothing.
It was boring.
Then, eventually, there was another something not a Michael.
In their infinite, yet temporary cycle of death and rebirth, they saw it, all of them.
A speck of pure raw potential energy, enough to light innumerable trillions of stars.
Michael wept at it in shock and awe, as the light expands, dimming ever so slightly as a pure line began to trace it's way from the speck, branches splitting off at once, branches from those, some ending fast, some stretching so very far, as possibility was resurrected, Michael saw his other selves swallowed by timelines, finally ending, their atoms and molecules scattered irrevocably, even for their immortality.
And some of those infant universes had life ever so slightly sooner, the elements composing the Michaels dispersing, giving realities just the smallest of jump starts.
And the first, the original Michael smiles before a timeline overcomes him.
He has a feeling his friends, his lovers will end up with him again in whatever afterlife comes to exist in the new timelines.
He just has to wait, and he can do that.
And then the undying finally died.

Cameron 845087

File: 1414232620890.png (134.78 KB, 284x600, lilly_cane_sad.png)

>A spark in the shadows, artificial eyes flickering gently in the dark, providing the slightest glimmer of light on the rubble around and over her, almost pressing in on her, dust and dirt occasionally falling onto her tattered dress.
>A system alert pops up in her vision, not that it informed her of anything she didn't already know. Half her torso was ruined, all four of her legs were mangled, and the fact that she had any synthskin left at all on her face was miracle enough, considering the intensity of the bombardment from the-
>Damn, her memory was compromised. A minor annoyance, but still.

>...The worst part was being alone, really. Not that she could choose, but really.

I do believe I would be shaking with fear if I were human...
>She muttered wrly to herself, corner of her mouth curling up slightly.
Shut up, why don't you...
>A spark of power, as for whatever reason, her emotional processor finally reconnects to the rest of her failing systems.

>And it all hits her, one big wall of emotions instantly.

>She is shaking, crying without tears in seconds.
>She begs, pleads the universe for mercy, begs for someone to find her, to save her, because she does not want to die oh god please help me someone i don't want to die i don't want to die please help me father i'm so scared
>And as her eyes flickering, the dim illumination vanishing for longer and longer, her voice changes.
>It is no longer synthesized, it is no longer the voice of a young lady, dignified and pure.
>It's one of the most heartbreaking voices the world could ever hold.
>That of a scared little girl who knows she's dying.
>She freezes for a second, processors whirring noisily.
D-daddy. I need my daddy.
>She is only shaking harder now, sobbing silently.
>And she falls silent, blue eyes flickering slowly, once, twice...
>A scrap of code runs in the failing systems, running subroutines and programs hidden within her drives as fast as possible.
>And within that failing mind, one last message flickers before the weak awareness.
Everything's gonna be okay. I'm here.
>The dim blue lights vanish, the sparks die...
>And only darkness remains, buried deep in the rubble.

The old equipment never did work quite right...
>In another place, a young man opens his eyes, the screen in front of him showing a red error message.
>There are tears soaking his face, and messages are beginning to arrive in his inbox, questioning the signals put out into the Collective from his secure channels.
>He closes his eyes, more signals going out.
>Closing the link, he slumps over at his desk, fresh sobs wracking him.
>He was gonna find out exactly who killed his daughter...
>And they were gonna wish they could suffer her fate.


File: 1414258662284.gif (1006.17 KB, 500x271, whatt.gif)

>Emi had managed to find the way home, she found her Mother's notes, they'd finally explain all...this...all this human flesh and blood invading her circuits

>...wh...what was that?! That monster had a number embedded in its chest and then suddenly..time, time seemed to slow down around her

>There was only one real option her, even while moving in slow motion, Emi had to use it

>The memory announced as Emi activated it and summoned the Trial Gaia memory into her hand

>she used it to speed up her own body so she could transform and destroy the creature

>She sighed in relief...before realizing using the Zone memory alerted them

>Soon hordes of Foundation X vans covered the area around Emi's mother's house

>The other Memory Unit Androids and Gynoids surrounded her
>As Eternal she was able to fight most of them until both she and them had dehenshined

>Breathing heavily tired and exhausted she looks among her fellow Memory Units

Ha...ha that all you got?

>Her own transformation canceled...as her eyes widened in shock at the woman who was standing across from her

>More youthful...and pale.. looking than she'd ever been, but the long flowing brown hair, those hazel eyes...there was no mistaking who that was


>She...she couldn't fight her mother...she was the only person who took care of her before...

>Emi's seemingly revived Mother approached the gynoid slowly, before very abruptly shoving a metal spike into the girl's head

>Emi slowly fell down off of the spike as all bodily functions and mental capacities of her body shut down.

>The woman looked to one of the androids present

Call the heads, tell them we'll salvage what we can

Cameron 845184

File: 1414278414301.png (128.92 KB, 284x600, lilly_basic_weaksmile.png)

Alternate not-sad ending!
Everything's gonna be okay. I'm here.
>The dim blue lights vanish, the sparks die...
>And only darkness remains, buried deep in the rubble.

Heh, sometimes the old stuff surprises you.
>A young man paces outside the cloning tube, tense, nervous.
>Within, blonde hair slowly wafting in the tiny currents of the LCL within, a girl lies unconscious, a plasticky hospital gown preserving her modesty.
Check soul integration levels.
>He speaks, voice controlled carefully.
Soul integration at 99 percent. Soul integration at 100 percent.
>He freezes in midstep, turning on a dime, approaching the tube.
Soul integration complete.
Wake her up. Let's get her out of there.
>And as her eyes open for the first time, the LCL drains from around her, and the glass front of the tube slides open silently, and she collapses into the young man's arms as she blinks weakly, expression confused as if woken from a long sleep.
>Throwing her arms around him, she begins to cry, tears of joy streaming down her red-smeared cheeks, mixing with the traces of LCL clinging to her skin.
>Holding his daughter, he smiles softly.
It's okay. I've got you, you're safe now.
>His eyes narrow.
And we're gonna get the people who hurt you. I promise.
This post was edited by its author on .

Mami!TomoeP/Q/. 859172

File: 1416894296322.jpg (94.27 KB, 596x519, Mami84.jpg)

It was enough.

The girl smiled.

Despite the shouts of her friends and the shrieks of the monster, she didn't feel anything but calm.

It didn't hurt like she'd feared. It was a comforting feeling. A familiar feeling. Maybe it was enough for a peaceful end? A good one?

She hoped so.

He was yelling. He looked so angry. And yet so sad. Couldn't he see that this is what she'd wanted? She wanted to make up for her mistakes. She wanted to prove she was a good person.

She hoped her family would be waiting to welcome her. She hoped they forgave her for not saving them. She hoped they still loved her.

She really hoped so.

He looked like he was about to cry. Why was he sad? She didn't want him to be sad. She wanted him to be happy. That's all she'd ever wanted. She wanted her friends to be happy.

She was glad no one else had to die to let them be happy. She was happy now.

He was hugging her. He'd never hugged her like this before. Why did he have to do this when it was too late to matter?

It was funny how things seemed so different when you were dying.

She wanted to hug him back. She wanted him to not be sad when she was so happy.

She wished he'd be happy too.

Patches 887171

File: 1423685942421.png (641.11 KB, 1280x720, tumblr_n6xwbyB8FA1t3w37po1_128…)

Ya know, it's been 3 years since I made this thread and over 2 since I posted in it, but I have only now just noticed
>In this thread, you can right about your character dying,
>you can right about your

That typo

Rocks!bXgeUCIUnk 887180

File: 1423689268665.jpg (18.25 KB, 232x241, thinking moment.jpg)

Well, if that was worth bumping this thread back from the dead, might as well do something with it
>it was over
>he, maybe better than anyone else, would know when it was over
>he'd been shot, stabbed, blown up, and torn his soul apart throughout the course of his life
>he had danced with Death on so many occasions (even went go-karting with her once) that he knew the difference
>the difference between still being able to stand up and tell his story, or remain lying down forever
>he just wished that damned infirmary ceiling wasn't the last thing he would ever see
>he hated that ceiling, all 607 tiles of it, more than he even hated the lumpy cots he was put on
>why couldn't it have been someone?

>his Mother...

>she was a Reaper, why wasn't she there to take his soul and carry it to the afterlife?
>or was that a selfish thought, to want your own Mother to be there when her son dies before her, and tear away the soul from his dying body
>probably a little selfish

>his brothers?

>they were always difficult to read
>would they even cry, would they even care that he was gone?
>it wasn't wrong or even insulting to call them a hive of twisted sociopaths, because that's what most of them were
>but even for all their flaws, they were still his family, right?
>maybe they won't cry, they likely won't cry, hell, he wouldn't have cried if it was one of them in this situation
>but that's because they don't cry
>generally, they just get angry, and swear bloody murder against whoever had the balls to mess with their family
>that was their way
>the Sutcliff way


>that loyal little puppy...
>would he even understand what was going on, if he were there?
>would he understand that his owner wasn't just too tired to play?
>would he understand that, once his eyes were closed, they would never open again, and why?
>would it have been too much, to stare into those googly eyes one last time, and not even be able to say goodbye?

>maybe Monell-no!

>he would never wish that, consciously or subconsciously!



>his Boss was a strong man, so maybe...
>he could have seen him standing next him, cracking jokes and wise ass comments, lightening the situation as much as he could
>making him feel comfortable, as he always did, until it was finally time to go silent...



>oh, by the gods above, Raven

>another selfish wish, he knows it is
>just one final look at that beautiful face, even if it were drenched in tears, was all he could have wished for at that moment
>how will she react, how can she react when she finally founds out...
>at least if she were here, the reveal would be gradual, understanding slowly dawning on her that he wouldn't stand up with a toothy grin and a dumb joke again
>maybe that would have been less painful?
>maybe he would have been doing her a favor, rather than being told by someone else, or heaven's forbid, she just walked up to him as he laid there, unmoving


>there were so many things he never told her

>there were so many things he still wanted to tell her
>so many dumb jokes to crack
>so many ridiculous flattery to hand out
>so many kisses not given
>so many presents not gifted
>so many pictures, so many drawings, so many paintings
>so much... so, so much he could still give her...

>it's time now

>he feels that pale, cold yet warm hand on his shoulder, telling him it's time to go
>he looks at the woman in black, a woman he's still proud to call his friend
>and he says "No... not yet."
>it wasn't time

>he had to wait

>he had to stay there, by her side
>no matter where judgment lead him, be he just or sinful, it would always be hell for him
>that's why he had to wait, for he would not cross the horizon alone
>not without her...
>and wherever she was taken, he would be there by her side, for all eternity
>through peace
>through punishment
>he would stand and wait for years to come, awaiting eternity with his beloved

>only then will he be able to say "I do"

Princess Celestia!SuNbuTTSIA 888914

File: 1424880652786.png (1.33 MB, 1600x1200, 465405__safe_solo_princess+cel…)

Death is what makes me envious of you, simple mortals.
In the thousand years of my life I have seen wars, I have seen species going extinct.
I have witnessed the fall of empires, civilizations and their history, disappearing slowly.
I have always been haunted by death all around me.
I have seen my children dying, and those I loved and trained, those who have supported me for so long are all dead.
The cancerous amount of perpetually renewing cells that grants me eternity, the ghost I have become only allows my brain to keep with only a hundred years of my own past, the most ancient memories are blurred, amorphous, with strange feelings.
As things goes, I will remain, until the fall of this empire, the extinction of the pony kind. The escathon. The dusk of times.
Nature will rise again, taking over everything that have been built, time will do its job, erasing progressively all traces of intelligent life on this planet, leaving nothing but decaying carbon.

I will continue to watch Death doing her dirty cleaning up job, powerless, until she's done with the last bacteria.
If she still think we're not worth her attention, she will disappear, too, free, leaving us prisoners of life. That curse that just levels our magic powers insufficient to end our own lives.

This planet will be a desert, devoid of a breathable atmosphere, with frozen oceans of carbonic, acidic ice.
Nothing will remain there but me and Luna, observing the Sun turning red, and the Moon being just a dot far away.
I won't even be able to shed a tear as I observe this beautiful star that brought life on this world agonizing, its nuclear cycle slowing down.

Then there will be the eternal night.
Do you accept your fate better, or would you, too, embrace the curse of immortality?

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