Major Character Death - Blog Posts

When was I ever good enough for you?

Langst

(Sexual Inferences, manipulation, depression, suicidal thoughts, major character death, Lancelot, Klance)

It was silent in the castle and Lance is missing, and they had no lead on where Lotor had taken Lance nor what he was to do with him. They didn’t talk too much and none of them wanted to until they found Lance.

-meanwhile-

“Shit!”

The Blue Paladin was thrown onto the floor with no defenses other than his armor once again. Eventually hung left waiting to be questioned. Lotor thankfully chose to train Lance himself. No one tried to interfere with the ‘training’. Lotor rather took Lance to his room and put Lance on a collar and gave him beautiful golden chains and jewelry training him but it was all mental.

Manipulating his mind to feel intense hatred for Voltron and his place on the team. It was probably a week of torture till Lance finally let Lotor hold him and twirl his hair. Soon leading to long nights of warm baths and tending to wounds from physical training. Drowning in pits of water letting the burn slowly become craved sensations. Sleeping together became natural with tangled limbs on the covers and gold flakes everywhere.

The two had just gotten out of the shower from training, Lance throwing on a tight jumpsuit designed specifically for him to be an assistant during training. Lotor was sitting in his chair brushing out his long locks as Lance made his way over to braid his hair.

“Lotor guess what?”

“What Lance?”

“I can make things now!”

Lotor smiled as Lance sat on his lap hands linked around Lotor neck,” Look.”

Lance winked and a beautiful flower appeared in mid-air soon transforming into a flower crown placed on Lotor’s head.

-Meanwhile-

Team Voltron finally had tracked down a base with a lifeform matching Lance’s figure and Blue along with Red urged everyone he was there. The Blade good with stealth came along on the mission in case this was going to harder than it already seemed. Keith, Krolia, and Kolivan were sent. The 7 rushed in undetected Pidge tracking Lance’s location in the base. They passed and checked every room as they raced through the halls.

-Back with Lance and Lotor-

Lance got up gold dangling from his forehead and ears, his beautiful designs were gorgeous. Lotor got up from his seat lifting Lance holding him. Lance, who of course kissed the Prince holding him wrapped his legs around Lotor’s torso. Lotor supported Lance by holding his backside and twirled him around, singing the melody an old Altean tune.

“Bedtime.”

Lance quickly curled into Lotor as the lights dimmed. Within what seemed like a minute the ship alarms were set off.

Lotor immediately grabbed two weapons handing one to Lance, “Lay down if they come in we can catch them off guard.”

Laying down the gunshots rose along with the noises of grunting.

Within 3 minutes there was slamming on the door and with seconds the door was down. The Paladins walked in to see the two cuddling.

Lotor squeezed Lance's thigh alerting him to attack. Lance gets up holding his gun and shoots at Kolivan who takes the chest shot. Everyone froze.

“Lance, what the hell?”

“How do you know my name?!?”

That’s when everything spun. Krolia sent a bullet flying towards Lotor and a scream shocked everyone as the bullet froze along with everything else.

Another shot fired hitting Lance in the abdomen who didn’t even flinch yet Keith shouted.

“Lance!”

Rushing over he picked up Lance, “Hey look at me.”

“Keith?”

Keith smiled tears falling suddenly shocked when a hand came up and smacked him hard, “Get the hell out of here. Don’t be stupid. Now, please.”

The Paladins and Lotor were holding aim at one another and Lance pulled out his gun and shot everyone’s weapons out of their hands including Lotor.

Within seconds Lance flung his arms and sighed his gun right in his hand the backside of the gun resting on Lance’s forehead as he shook his head, “God fuck this stupid war! Like honestly what does ruling the world solve, no one is a slave and no one owes anyone anything. Lotor your parents fucked with shit they shouldn’t have which should’ve resulted in their death. And no the planet should’ve have been destroyed but it came down to it. Why can’t you find quintessence without killing?”

The room grew quiet again. Lance dropped his gun and gripping his wound while still holding his composure.

Everything happened in a flash, Pidge and Hunk teamed up Hunk grabbing Lance while Pidge shot Lotor and everyone else running. Lance screamed. Cried. Fought. The sound brought everyone to their own tears filling their eyes, and the atmosphere grew unbearably heavy. Lance refused to eat or speak, told to hate Voltron he was utterly bewildered finding out he was a Paladin.

Sitting in his observatory with a blanket wrapped around him he struggled to wrap his head around what had happened. How has Lotor wipes all memory of him being a Paladin?

Coran opened the door, “Hey my boy how are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling? I feel like shit. I’m recovering from being shot and almost dying while having to push through the fact I fell in love with a guy who got killed right in front of me. I gave him my first. And I’ve been manipulated for months and trained and brainwashed Coran. So you wanna know how am I fucking feeling?”

Coran quietly and quickly wrapped his arms around Lance holding him tight.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find you soon enough, you didn’t deserve any of this.”

Lance felt tears whelm up and he just sobbed holding Coran tightly the entire team hearing the conversation felt an overwhelming amount of shame and remorse for their teammate as well joining the hug all in a pile. The BOM isn’t happy with Lance but understands the circumstances of what occurred.

-Weeks Later-

I still am trying to bond with the team but it’s difficult. I miss Lotor every day but Keith seems ten times better. Caring and deep down a good guy with a hard past who I can relate to.

Shiro helped me as well.

I’ve bonded with Hunk already and we are close once more.

Pidge and I are iffy we will talk but we’re nowhere near as close friends. She killed my first real love.

Allura didn’t talk to me the first two days but eventually, she hugged me and we sat down talking about everything that I went through.

Coran and I are as close as can be and I constantly go to him for guidance.

I feel better but still, I don’t think I’ll ever recover from something like this. Maybe I’ll kill myself, I know that’s something apparently I wanted to do back on Earth.

Blister & Blood

Event: Angstpril 2025 ; hosted by @chaos-company Prompt: Day 5 ALTERNATE—Major Injury Fandom: Arcane Ship: Silco x Vander | Vanco Rating: M Tags: MCD, anti-Vander. No, seriously. Bad guy Vander. Vulnerable Silco. Canon Divergence.

Silco looked at the drawing he made of him and Vander, smiling down softly at their colours melding into each other. It was one of their better days—coming up with their Blister & Bedrock mantra. A vow to create a safe space for all the children, and their children. But, those days started getting fewer in between.

When Felicia died, so did the goodness between him and Vander, until one day.

Vander was on something that Silco couldn’t identify, at the end, he could just have started hating Silco. As if it was only Silco’s job to keep Felicia safe. All he knew was that Vander blamed him. And one day. Silco decided to fight back.

He decided to stand up for himself, to say that it wasn’t only on Silco and that it wasn’t right for Vander to keep fucking blaming him and reminding Silco of everything that they had lost.

He very quickly realised he made the wrong choice when Vander pushed him up face first against the wall and ground his head into the jutting brick. He tried to close his eyes but he could feel the pricks of the brick against his face before he could fully manage it. He felt something wet roll down his face, but he knew he couldn’t be crying—the other option seemed too harrowing to accept.

Vander pressed his pelvis into Silco’s back, and he could feel his entire body get crushed against the wall. It stuck through his clothes, and tore the more sensitive fabrics, and Vander just pushed his head further into the wall before leaning closer.

“Where do you get off telling me it’s my fault? Telling ME that I had to do MORE? You’re just a sniveling goddamn brat that didn’t get enough attention in this godforsaken place. You’d be nothing without me.” Silco could hear the sneer in Vander’s voice, and it broke small parts of him that he wasn’t sure had existed anymore. The abandoned boy inside of him cried out in pain and fear.

“I…didn..I didn’t say. You..” He couldn’t find his voice. Couldn’t keep it even.

“YES YOU DID! My fault that Felicia died? God,” Vander’s chuckle was hollow, “I loved her. I would never have let anything happen to her.” There was a sick satisfaction in Silco’s chest. Confirmation on something that he had suspected for years. That Vander only started dating Silco to get closer to Felicia, and since she died. Vander didn’t care about him anymore. 

Silco knew that Vander’s temper was short, and that it snapped because the next moment his face was being crushed by the wall. Vander held Silco’s hair in a tight grip and started smashing his head against it. 

Silco couldn’t feel the pain anymore, but he felt a sharp burning in his abdomen, but he couldn’t place if it was a blade or not. He could start to see little orbs of light floating in his vision. Looking like specks of dust but in a rainbow of colours, and he almost gasped at the beauty.

All in all. He had an extremely good life. He had morals and he was at the forefront of a revolution. Two little girls who he could hold when they were sad, and sometimes help them to feel better. His vision went black, and he could feel his breathing shallow out while his body was being used like a ragdoll for frustration.

It’s enough that it’d been good.

It had to be enough.

When it all comes down

Event: Angstpril 2025 ; hosted by @chaos-company Prompt: Day 4—"I trusted you" Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Ship: Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku | BakuDeku Rating: M Tags: MCD

The fight was nothing that Bakugou had ever seen before. It took everything he had not to run into the fray, but he had strict orders to stay on the sidelines. The villain that they were apprehending had a multiplication quirk. Multiplying every attack thrown his way. And if Bakugou got involved, everyone in the surroundings would be in danger. His explosions would burn everything in the surroundings to the fucking ground, and it was driving him insane.

De—Izuku was there. In the middle of all of it. Their relationship wasn’t common knowledge, but it was something big and important enough for Bakugou to feel that his entire heart and soul was out there on the battlefield.

He was supposed to do recon and catch any flyaway villains, but his eyes were glued to the intense battle in the middle of the city block.

Izuku was chosen because his quirk wasn’t natural. He was chosen for his. And it was the one loophole they could find where the villain’s quirk wouldn’t work, but it didn’t help that the villain touched everyone he could to get to Izuku.

He was pacing, and he had enough of their friends watching him from the corner of their eyes, confused at his actions.

He couldn’t care about their questioning glances, or the theories running around in their minds, until… the villain threw Izuku with strength akin to Gigantomachia’s. 

He fell from the sky like a ragdoll, and Bakugou’s mind completely blanked. He didn’t think about the other Heroes, or the civilians, or even the fucking Villain that put them in that position to start. He used his explosions to fly to Izuku, but he wasn’t fast enough. He heard the sickening crack on the sidewalk and he faltered. That second of fear was enough for him to lose his momentum and fall close to where Izuku did.

It felt like the whole world was on fire, but Bakugou army-crawled through the debris to get closer. The villain was busy breaking everything down. Buildings were on fire, and crumbling, but Bakugou got to him.

The sight was one that Bakugou had seen all through their High School career. Izuku broken, in pain, and bleeding. But this time. Something was different. People were starting to crowd around them but Bakugou threw indiscriminate blasts all around them to keep the onlookers away. 

“Izuku? Baby, please…” He whispered, but. There was no reaction. Izuku didn’t suddenly start breathing, or open his pretty green eyes to stare at Bakugou and ask what he was on about.

Bakugou tried to do CPR, but he couldn’t focus long enough to do it properly. He just ended up punching at Izuku’s chest trying to get a reaction…any reaction. But nothing was working.

He couldn’t end this way. It.. couldn’t. Him and Izuku were still figuring out their lives, trying to get it on track. They. Wanted to work on their issues to the point where they could tell their friends about their relationship, but they couldn’t get it right..not yet.

He tore open Izuku’s stupidly complicated Hero costume, but even then, he had no idea where to go. He wasn’t a medical Hero. He wasn’t someone who knew what to do.

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME, IZUKU. YOU CAN’T… LEAVE.” Bakugou put his ear to Izuku’s chest as he pushed his fingers against the pulse point, but there was nothing. Just a straight line of zero activity. Bakugou also couldn’t feel any breath release from Izuku’s mouth or nose.

Everything around Bakugou was crumbling, just like the buildings in the city block. He was being pelted with debris, and when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he sent another blast. He heard a small yelp, and he was just glad that the person was moving away. Disappearing from his bubble.

“YOU FUCKING DEKU. YOU BETTER. JUST…” His throat was raw from the yelling and he was getting tired. He was… giving up.

He rolled onto his knees and held Izuku’s tattered costume in his hands.

He could feel his eyes welling up, but he looked into the sun to try and keep the tears at bay.

“I trusted you. I trusted you to stay. To build a life with me. To,” stay. He couldn’t say it out loud, because. Izuku was supposed to be different. He was…supposed to be the one.

Bakugou got pulled away from Izuku’s body and he was swarmed by other Heroes. Some were glaring at him, others just looked at him and he could see the questions in their eyes.

Izuku was taken away from Bakugou.

And the further away he got. The more Bakugou broke.

Everything…was gone.

Planning on writing a Slowburn fanfic, but i wanna make 1st Person POV & 3rd Person POV. Yet I also want to gain readers but I know some people don’t prefer the other

When the worst comes to pass (Part One: Johnny)

WARNINGS: Reader dies! YES, there will be written gore and YES, the boys will be very sad. (vomiting, bleeding, guts, choking, drowning, all of it) Hurt/no comfort.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Everything hurts. That's the first thing Johnny notices when he manages to open his eyes, flat on his back on a cobbled road, smeared with blood that isn't just his.

When his mind comes back to him, Johnny feels his stomach both drop and slingshot into the stratosphere.

Fuck. The building, the objective, this was bad.

He scrambles to his feet so fast that his head pounds that he nearly misses an incoming transmission on his radio. It's Ghost, roaring into hie ear as he runs somewhere.

"What the hell was that, MacTavish?! The rookie's in there!"

Everything in the world quiets for a dragging moment as those words finally make it to his (probably bruised) brain. The rookie. How could he have forgotten the rookie was in there? Oh god. The rookie was in there. He hadn't known that when he blew that shit sky-high to finally clear it out.

Still, when he looks to the steaming rubble, so hot that some of the glass is melting, he knows it's a hopeless endeavor.

He knows it's hopeless, but that doesn't stop him from screaming your name, callsign, anything, trying to get a response.

Even as Ghost yells his ears out over comms. Even as Price joins in. Even as Gaz reports that he's at exfil, injured but okay, shaky-voiced like he's barely holding it together.

His knees sizzle and burn when he's on all fours, hopelessly scraping at the concrete and steel, overturning everything he can in some prayer to a god deaf to this moment to find you.

You, who'd stumbled ass-backward into this team and managed to root yourself down like a dandelion, so tenacious that even the usual harsh treatment had been anything more than an obstacle, another checkpoint in the game-ified quest system that you used to organize your life.

You, who'd been the first person to grab Johnny by the collar and scream so loud his ear had popped when he had knowingly slighted you to look better at the end of your first op.

You, who made him work for your time, who hadn't been scared to tell him straight to his face that you hated his guts.

You, who warmed up slowly.

You, who had become Johnny's very closest confidant, because you weren't afraid to call him on his shit, but always tried to understand.

You.

And now, like always, Johnny has done something too fucking rash. Made the wrong call, blew the bomb too soon to keep himself safe and now you're under the rubble of his mistakes, being crushed under the weight.

But he'll fix it. It doesn't matter that his skin is peeling back and singing off in his hands, or that one of his nails was pulled all the way out from a burr in the steel getting caught on it. It doesn't matter that Johnny knows he smells too much burnt flesh for it to just be his own. It doesn't matter that he can't see your form yet, because he knows that if he digs long enough, you have to be in here. And you'll be hurt.

But you'll be okay.

You'll be on his ass about this for years, and you'll chew him out when he patches you up, but you'll be okay.

He's not sure how long that frenzied state lasts. Not really, but he knows there's a hand on his shoulder when he tears a window from it's frame, cutting his hands.

It's Simon, standing over him. Johnny doesn't look back, but he knows, because it's too quiet.

"...Johnny. Exfil."

His voice is mercifully soft. Gruff, but soft, because Simon knows this stings Johnny far more than it does him. You'd been... good. He didn't let you close, but he knew he wouldn't have regretted it if he had.

You would have been a good soldier. Much better than him or Johnny. Fuck, maybe even better than Price if you really buckled down like you wanted to. You had been smart, just stubborn enough.

Kyle was already a mess in the helicopter, halfway to snapping as Nikolai talks him back down. Johnny was far more stubborn.

"No. M' gonna find 'em, Simon, m' gonnae fuckin' find 'em because they've gotta be in here somewhere an' I cannae just leave them behind-"

It's now that Johnny realizes he's been crying. The drops are fat and heavy, rolling down dirtied cheeks and cutting clean pathways, drawing lines of his own tanned skin.

He hears Ghost sigh, and a loud crack as the butt of a pistol is slammed into his head, and his thoughts are cut off.

I’m sorry. This is a spite piece for my instagram. Follow me @peanut_and_butter_artistry there.

Love and Nature

Osdea, the god of love, fell hopelessly in love with the god of nature, Ezella. Osdea tried everything she could to have the indifferent god acknowledge her, but Ezella never gave her the time of day. Osdea tried helping the flora and fauna, hoping to appeal to the god of nature through kindness. She tried befriending the different nature spirits, attempting to learn anything about Ezella. She tried just being in the same area as Ezella often, so maybe they'd take an interest in her, like she had in them.

Finally, when Osdea had given up hope in all else, she brought Ezella a small bouquet of flowers, ones she had seen them care for, and tried talking to the god. Ezella curtly turned Osdea down, but Osdea saw this as progress, for she had finally gotten Ezella to acknowledge her! And so Osdea brought another bouquet of flowers the next day, with the same result. She continued bringing flowers every day, each time with the same result.

On the fourth day, Ezella, growing steadily losing what little patience they had left from the frequent irritations said, "Every day you cut and bring me flowers that I have grown. Every day I turn you down, but that still does not seem to dissuade you. Your young naivety seems to know no bounds, so let me put this as plainly as possible. For as long as you continue bothering me and cutting the flowers I have grown and calling it a gift, I will never return your affections."

Osdea, stunned, watched as the god of nature swiftly turned and walked away, her eyes never lingering from their back, not even when her face grew warm or when the world in front of her clouded too an unrecognizable blur of colours. Only when Ezella was long out of sight was Osdea able to move, collapsing to her knees, and crushing the flowers.

She didn't even remember dropping them.

Hastily, she tried straightening the broken stems and rightening the misplaced petals, but the tears and her shaking hands only worsened the damage until her lap was covered in flower petals and leaves. She held the broken and baren flower stems to her chest, head in her lap and arms wrapped around her trembling body.

Gradually, slowly, her tears sprouted new flowers, wrapping first around the edges of her feet, then her dress and legs, her torso, her arms, her neck, her hair, her head. Oh so gradually, the suffocating pain in her chest took on a new shape; a shape that made more sense. Oh so slowly, her tears did dry, and the flowers clinging to her form began to bloom.

The forest nymphs were the first to find her. The rising sun painted her skin a brilliant golden colour through the shadows of towering trees and their vibrant green leaves. The delicate white of fresh blooms sparsely covering her form seemed to sing at their first sight of light. The god's chest rose and fell slowly as she laid sprawled across the forest floor, as if asleep. The nymphs, simply relieved that the poor god was no longer weeping, left her to sleep.

Osdea was not asleep. How could she sleep with the ceaseless, creeping pain inside her chest?

As the nymphs left, tears escaped and trickled down their familiar path over her skin and in between the delicate flowers.

The nymphs returned at sundown, the god's chest still steadily rising and falling, eyes closed to the world. The white flowers from before now more thoroughly covering her, and new flowers blooming at the edges of her face, there was very little of the god that was left untouched now. Small pin-pricks of blood scattered across her body where the flowers weaved their way through her skin.

Still, the nymphs left Osdea to her slumber. Still, Osdea was not asleep. She was paralyzed, as if the flowers had taken root in her muscles, rendering them completely useless. If nothing else, the whites and greens of the flowers and their stems, set against the dimming light of the falling sun brought some small glimmer of happiness to the sorrowful god.

'Perhaps,' thought the god 'this is the true nature of life; holding onto the smallest glimmer of hope and joy, no matter the cost.' Tears welled along her eyes once again, now hidden beneath a thin layer of foliage.

The petite white flowers weaving and sprouting through her skin were not what troubled Osdea. What troubled her was the feeling of small, sharp barbs being dragged through the inner linings of her being. Treacherously slowly, the talons clawed their way up her chest and into her throat. Every tentative rise and fall of her chest, every movement, no matter how small, pressed the stabbing blades in further.

Osdea learned what she could and could not do quite quicky. Movement was strictly forbidden. The god was still allowed to breathe, but gradually even that privileged had been restricted until her breaths were slow and shallow and her head grew light. She was not allowed to speak. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't be able to croak out even a single word. But she was fine with that. She had no one to listen to her words anyways.

The stars above shone so brightly. Somehow, they seemed brighter than usual, almost as if they wept for the god, their small lights ever so slightly growing before trembling and shrinking again. The stars and their weeping slowly began to fade away as dawn drew near, and clouds covered the sky like a heavy blanket. Osdea could feel the plants blanketing her body still in anticipation. The world around her seemed to hold it's breath as she swam in and out of consciousness. She could still breathe. She didn't know why she was struggling. Her head felt so heavy.

The clouds were painted a brilliant ruby red, painting the forest in hues of pink. Osdea had never seen a sky quite like that, and she knew she never would again. A faint smile spread across her lips. This much she was still allowed.

She couldn't breathe.

The world fluttered in and out of existence, as if a butterfly were sat on her nose.

She was okay.

The sun began to crest its head over the horizon, vibrant scarlet to match the clouds above. The birds did not sing, nor did the deer begin to stir. The nymphs would not visit this morning.

She would be okay.

In and out, the world faded and re-ignited repeatedly. Dark crimson shadows fell over the forest. White flowers were painted pink.

It would be okay.

The world of reds and dark shadows swam in front of Osdea's eyes. From the darkness, her eyes landed on one figure, slowly approaching. The darkness encroached and consumed her vision. She pried her eyelids open, even if only once more. She would not let herself be robbed of her sight. Not yet.

She was out of time. She was not okay. She didn't want to die.

Light returned to the god. A soft face filled with love and sorrow stared down at her. For a moment, Osdea forgot about the tearing thorns in her chest, about the flowers covering her body, about the air missing from her lungs. For a moment, Osdea felt like she was dancing through the forest again, wanting nothing more than for Ezella to turn their attention to her.

Osdea watched as Ezella's lips moved, but no sound ever reached her ears. Why couldn't she hear the god? Why couldn't she hear the one person who's voice had rung through her head for days now?

Osdea opened her mouth, but the words she wanted to say were torn apart by the thorns within before they ever knew the breath of life. The scene before her clouded to a blur of reds again with only Ezella remaining in focus.

Ezella leaned down, filling Osdea's vision. Soft lips found her forehead, as if the flowers had parted specially for them. A drop of water rolled down her temple. It was warm. It was cold.

The clouds faded from her vision, and the thorns in her lungs disappeared. The god of love no longer felt the pinpricks of flowers weaving through her skin.

The god of nature rose with the rising sun, and began their daily care for the earth and its creatures.

The sun rose on the second morning. Where had previously laid Osdea, the god of love, now laid a beautiful flower bed, alive with dusty blues and pure whites. Sat in the center of the bed was a bush of roses, petals and thorns dyed the same blood-red colour.

good omens hunger games

Oneshot -Killing Butterflies

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Ships: Aether x reader ; Childe x reader ; Childe x Zhongli

TW: Aether x reader ; reader x Tartaglia ; Tartaglia x Zhongli (if you squint) ; Major angst ; character death ; hurt no comfort ; Aether loves reader, reader loves Tartaglia, Tartaglia loves Zhongli ; reader dies ; implied death ; gn reader-no gender is given to reader

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This is a whole bucket full of angst so have fun lol. Also, for context i would recommend reading this post of mine. Anyways enjoy reading! (*^▽^*)

Aether couldn't bear to see you like this. To watch you through yourself at him when he no longer loved you. It was pitiful really. How you begged for him to stay. You were attached to him while he moved on. Tartaglia didn't hate you, he simply didn't love you anymore. Tartaglia moved on and fell in love with someone else; his best friend. You couldn't do anything about it but simply accept what had happened. Though you could never move on from him as he had done.  

And so Aether watched as you fell deeper into despair. He tried to lift you up, to show you how much you were loved and that you didn't need Tartaglia to feel loved, that there was someone else who loved you dearly. You were too blinded by your sorrow to notice how Aether thought of you.  

As much as Aether wanted to do more for you he couldn't and so he let himself be a shoulder to cry on for you. Hoping. Praying. That one day you would see how much he cared for you. 

You had been going to Aether nearly every day for about a week just to cry. He was your dearest friend after all.  Until one day you stopped.  

Aether thought you simply needed a bit of space to get over your heartache.  

That was a week ago though. 

It had been two weeks since he last saw you, and he was getting worried.  

He stood outside your home, knocked, telling you it was only him and that he was worried because he hadn't saw you in two weeks. 

Silence 

He knocked again. 

Nothing 

He wasn't fond of entering without your permission but he had to make sure you were alright. He needed to make sure. 

He went to open the door to find it was unlocked already, though it wasn't uncommon for you, it seemed to unnerve him for some reason. Your home was dark, the curtains were all closed and no light was on. The lack of light only made him worry more. You always had light in your home whether from open curtains or candles lit at night so for your house to be so dark in the middle of the day was worrisome. He walked around your house looking for you until he came to your room. 

The door was closed and at first it seemed deadly silent from within your room as it was in the rest of your house. He stood there silently until he heard what sounded like a sob come from within your room. He opened the door to find you curled in on yourself in the corner of the room on your bed.  

"Y/n are you-" 

However you were surrounded by butterflies. 

Red butterflies. 

Blood Red butterflies 

"Aether?" 

He knew what was happening. He had seen this before. A friend from another world had died the exact same way, but he hadn't heard of it happening on Teyvat. He didn’t think it was possible here. He didn't want to believe it.  

"How long has this been going on for y/n?" Aether inquired while walking over to your side. 

"A-about two weeks now," you paused, taking a breath. "Aether do you know what's wrong with me?" 

The look in Aether's eyes told you the answer to your question. It hurt Aether to see you like this, to hear you sound broken. It seemed that at the very least the disease wasn't well known in Teyvat if at all. 

You didn't have much longer. It was obvious with how pale you were and the number of butterflies around you. Most people barely survived a month with the disease. Typically the victim died within three to four weeks of obtaining it. So it was easy to tell you would be dead soon. 

He stayed by your side, tending to you as you slowly grew weaker and couldn't perform simple tasks let alone even walk. The only time he left your side was to inform Tartaglia of your condition and what was going to happen as well as ask Albedo if he knew anything of the disease. 

Aether was told that while it did exist in Teyvat, it was extremely rare. 

The moment Aether got back he was immediately by your side again. 

You died in his arms five days later. 

He laid you down on your bed as the butterflies landed on and around you to rest peacefully alongside with you.  

Aether sat on the ground next to your bed, closing his eyes only to start coughing. He looked at his hand only to be met with flowers. 

Red flowers. 

Blood Red flowers. 

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I've come to realize that while I'm not the biggest fan of reading angst, I sure do love writing it.

I know that 3rd life's already been over for a long time, but I couldn't resist drawing heavy angst of my two favorite boys :)

Spin this wheel of ~300 AO3 tags three times.

loss of mein liebe | könig x f!reader angst (lowercase intended)

TW: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, severe angst, torture, blood, weapons, mentions of sexual assault (does NOT actually occur), NOT CANON AT ALL, NOT EDITED VERY MUCH, written at 3 am so probably incoherant at some points :p

2,000 ish words

it had been two weeks since she had been taken. kidnapped by the russians after a failed mission. neither kortac nor the 141 (who ironically were working together on this mission) had any idea where she could've been. that was until they had received a small parcel (addressed to konig). inside were her bloodied dog tags. konig immediately threw the items across the room and began researching where the package came from until finally, he was zeroed in on the location. somewhere in liski, russia. immediately, he called an order to drop everything to go save his little liebe.

a few days later, he now found himself alone in the basement of the warehouse, while the 141 scouted the rest of the building. konig walked around the dark, dingy spaces, looking for anywhere his little prinzessin could be. the building was suspiciously empty, the 141 reported, but konig was too focused on finding her to notice how strange it was. after stumbling upon a multitude of empty rooms, he finally came to the last room at the end of the basement hallway. peering inside the small window, he spied his liebe.

bloodied. beaten. unconscious.

he kicked the door open, forgetting all protocol. his liebe was more important. not that it was important anyway. other than konig and his princess, the room was empty.

her wrists are bound by rope and tied to the ceiling, caked in blood as they were too tight. a fresh scar dragged from her eyebrow to her cheek, caked with blood. her feet were an inch off the ground as she dangled from her wrists. her clothes were torn and bloody and her hair matted and dirty. she was hardly breathing. a dirty, bloody cloth was stuffed in her mouth, gagging her, perhaps to muffle her screams while she was tortured. a small, broken camera was attached to the corner of the ceiling.

“nicht schlafen, meine prinzessin…” könig murmured softly in german, softly patting her cheek. he felt his whole body tense up as he came near her--but then, he relaxed. noticing her ragged breathing, he cut off the rope with his combat knife.

placing her onto her feet, he held her steady and gently wiped her scars with his gloved hand. “please. open your eyes…” he whispered.

she stirred gently, opening her eyes and seeing konig. but she didn't see konig. she saw another man - coming to torture her. perhaps kill her. from behind the gag in her mouth, she began screaming and crying, the salty tears stinging the scar on her cheek. she kicked at konig, trying to save herself from more pain.

“schatz! it’s me!” könig cried, pulling her into a comforting embrace. “it’s me! i’m here to save you!” könig loosened her gag and gently pulled it from her mouth as her screams continued. “it’s your könig, your darling, your love… I’ve come to save you--” but her screams continued.

“i’m getting you out of here,” he assured, carefully picking her up and cradling her in his arms. “we have to go, my love. we have to go now.” but she still was in hysterics. flailing, screaming, kicking, crying. so hard that an old stab wound on her stomach began bleeding again. so much that her wrists began to drip blood onto the cold concrete floor.

“stop,” he said calmly in german, attempting to silence her by hushing her into his chest. “sweetheart, calm down. i’m here to save you, and you know it. i know it. but i can’t get you out of here unless you keep quiet.” he took his white handkerchief and carefully covered the wound on her stomach, trying to slow the bleeding. “you have to be quiet for me, my beloved, okay? i know you’re scared, i know i’m the last person you’d ever expect to see right now.”

she tries to talk from behind the gag in her mouth but all that can be heard are muffled cries.

“shh,” he repeated in german, shushing her into his chest once more. “my love, you know i’m the only person who could rescue you. you trust me, don’t you? trust that i’ll keep us both safe and that no harm will come to you while i’m here.” könig gently traced her face with his gloved hand. he carefully removed the gag from her mouth. “i need you to be quiet,” he said one last time.

"please… please don't hurt me." she whimpered.

“shh…” he gently shushed her again, using a finger to silence her. “i haven’t come to hurt you--you know that. i would never hurt you, not on purpose. i just need you to stay quiet while i get us out of here, okay, liebeling?” könig glanced to the door of the dingy, dark, dirty cell, and began planning their exit.

"who… who are you. please i want to go home. please i dont know anything" she begged, still not in her right mind.

“ich bin könig,” he said softly in german, placing a protective arm around her as he spoke softly to reassure her of his presence. “i know you’re confused, my love. i know you’re scared, and that you want to go home. and I’m going to take you home to your safe, warm bed, i promise. i just need you to help me out and stay quiet, okay?”

könig gently caressed her cheek, running his hand through her hair before kissing the top of her forehead.

her eyebrows furrowed. no torturer would kiss her forehead. finally, she looks into his eyes.

"k-konig?" she asked, tears streaming down her face as she remembered her beloved. "how did you find me? you have to go! they'll kill you! please! leave me!"

“no,” he whispered firmly, “i’m not leaving you here. you know i’d never leave you here. ich liebe dich. i love you too much to let anything bad happen to you. and you know that.” he stroked her dirty hair. “we’re leaving together,” he continued, “just please stay quiet. i promise you— you’ll be okay.”

and suddenly, an alarm rings out. they know he's here. they knew konig would try to save her.

it was a trap all along. konig's eyes fill with fear. his little liebe begins to cry again.

“scheiße,” könig swore under his breath, hearing the alarm ring out and the clanging of men’s feet as boots rushed towards the door.

he quickly pulled her into a protective embrace, holding her close to him, trying to think of a way out. there was only one exit in the room and only one way out of the dingy basement hallway. in an attempt to quiet her sobs, he put a gentle hand around her mouth.

“just stay silent, princess,” he murmured in her ear while the soldiers rummaged around. “it’s fine… we’ll be fine.” he promised as the sound of kicked-in doors began to grow ever closer.

even with his hand silencing her, another sob rings out.

“Nnein, nein, meine liebe… du tust mir so leid,” he whispered in german. he sighed and hugged her tighter, burying his face into her shoulder. “alles wird gut sein, nur halt ruhig.” he urged, trying to calm her.

könig held her close to him, trying to reassure her that it would be okay, even if it was a lie.

"well, well, well." a voice rang out. they had been found. the leader of the russian military walked in, a smirk on his face. "we knew you'd come for your little liebe konig." he explained as eight men raised their guns towards konig and the love of his life, who was still bleeding and crying in his arms. her tears doubled after realizing they had been caught. they were gonna die. she knew it.

“tch.” könig narrowed his eyes at the smug bastard standing in his way, clutching the love of his life tightly. he wasn’t about to die here, not when so close to his princess. not when she needed him. and he damn well wasn't going to let her die. that was never an option.

“i don’t care how many men you have, you’re going to have to pry my princess from my cold, dead hands,” he sneered, standing tall and pulling the knife from his belt. Two can play that game.

"hm. so be it! MEN! bring me the girl!" he called. four huge men with even bigger guns rushed forward, ripping the girl from konigs arms, pointing their guns at him to make sure he didnt move. konig raised his arms in defeat. one man escorted her back to the russian leader.

"well. it seems you have lost again, konig. it's a shame i have to kill your little princess in front of you. she is quite delicious" the russian man says, sniffing her neck creepily. she lets out another cry. "shut up!" the russian yells and slaps her across the face, splitting her lip and causing her to fall to the floor. he drags her up and holds a knife to her throat. "any last words, konig?"

"nein! nicht meine prinzessin! take me instead!" he snarled, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. he had to get the girl out of this alive. even if he had to die in her place. the russian man simply laughed.

"oh too late, my boy. i might even keep this one for myself. she's so young and easy to break" he licked her neck, causing her to flinch. "i think i want to make this slow and painful. for both of you," he says cockily.

"nein! ich tue alles was du willst! schatz, lass mich die nehmen, bitte!" könig begged in german, looking around at the four men holding guns to him with a pleading expression. he wouldn't die for nothing, not without trying to save her. he had to try.

"maybe i'll make you watch as i take her. and then i'll make you watch as each of my men take her. only when i'm finished, will i make you watch as i slit her pretty throat and watch her bleed out like the swine she is." he spits.

“du verdammte arschgeige!” König swore in a growl, anger flashing across his face. he wouldn’t be powerless against a man who would harm an innocent girl. with his free hand, he threw his knife at the leader, aiming for the throat. the man simply sidesteps and the knife hits the concrete wall instead, clattering to the floor.

the leader laughs at konig's futile attempt. "well, have it your way. men! restrain him! he's going to watch as the life drains from her eyes." the eight men tie konig up, the same way he had found his princess. hands in the air, feet barely touching the ground. no matter how much konig tried, he could not escape.

"bitte, ich bitte dich! ich will sie nicht sterben sehen! ich liebe sie!" in his panic, könig forgot all of his english lessons and reverted back to his mother language in a desperate and emotional tone. He wouldn't let his girl die! könig struggled as the eight men tied him up, gritting his teeth and letting out frustrated growling noises as he tried to escape.

the russian leader only laughs. konig's princess lets a tear drip down her face.

"konig." she calls. he looks at her, his cerulean eyes full of tears. "it's okay konig. it'll be okay." she says with a knife against her throat. she smiles sadly. "i love you. i loev you so much. never forget that." she said trembling.

könig roared, desperately straining against the ropes that tied him up. tears streaked down his face as he watched helplessly.

“don’t talk like that!” könig cried, his voice cracking. "im going to get ou out of here!"

“ws ist nicht zu spät, schatz, ich liebe dich!” he pleaded, shaking violently and pulling desperately at the ropes. “don’t say it’s okay… ich liebe dich noch mehr!”

"say goodbye to your little liebe, konig!" the russian yells. his eight soldiers all release a booming laugh at konig's desperation.

“du verdammter arschgeige!”

könig threw his head back and thrashed wildly against his bonds, his voice growing hoarse and desperate as he yelled at the leader in a fit of rage.

“ich werde dich ficken, und deine verdammte arschgeige!” he roared, spitting as he shouted at the leader.

the russian man only laughs as he presses the blade into her throat harder and drags it swiftly across, cutting into the girl's jugular. he laughs as she holds her throat and blood spills out. he laughs as she drops to the floor, gurgling on her blood. he laughs as the life begins to drain out of her eyes. through all the blood, she looks to konig and lets out a gurgling "i love you." before she stills.

“nein! nein, meine liebe!” König pleaded desperately. "bleib bitte bei mir! ohne dich kann ich das nicht schaffen!"

but it's too late. konig's libeling is gone. the russian men laugh and walk out of the cell, locking it behind them. leaving konig alone with her lifeless body.

a dark, ominous feeling flooded the air and enveloped the room like a fog as if it were the embodiment of the very hopelessness that hung heavy in the air.

könig fell silent, tears freely flowing from his eyes as he looked down at his princess.

his mind went blank as he stood, bound and helpless, next to the body of his love. her dark brown eyes were still open and her blood ran from her mouth, filling the crevice the scar in her cheek had left.

finally, the ropes gave under konig's constant thrashing. immediately, he ran over to his little liebe.

könig held the body of his princess close to him, weeping silently as he cradled her lifeless body in his arms. the loss of his love felt like a stab to the heart, piercing his chest with such an unbearable pain that he thought he was never going to feel anything again. könig's sobbing continued, drowning in grief and sorrow that was as deep as the very oceans.

suddenly, ghost and the rest of the 141 kicked the door down, guns raised only to be met with the scene in front of them. they were too late.

ghost stood in the doorway, his heart dropping at the sight in front of him. "könig." he said, stunned and hurt. könig looked over at ghost with pained, tear-filled eyes, his arms wrapped tightly around the body of his princess, who lay lifeless in his arms.

"she's gone…." konig said, a tear dripping off his chin and landing on her cheek.

ghost walked over quietly , kneeled down next to konig and reached his hand towards her face. konig, thinking he was going to hurt her, pulls out a gun and holds it to ghost's face. "mate…" ghost says sadly. ghost reaches over to the girls face and closes her gentle brown eyes. "look. now she's sleeping." he said softly. the rest of the 141 boys were quiet, faces downcast, unspeaking.

tears filled könig’s eyes as they watched ghost close the girl’s eyes.

“she looks so peaceful…” könig whispered. He continued to hold the body close to him, a part of him not wanting to let go.

“thank you….” he muttered, lowering the gun.

"mates.. we have to go," soap said to ghost and konig. "we don't want to be here when they come back to find konig."

a dark silence filled the air, the only sounds being the soft crying and sobbing of könig.

könig looked up at ghost, his face contorted with anguish and pain as he sniffled, wiping away tear trails with the sleeve of his shirt.

a nod was the only reply könig could give, and he allowed ghost and soap to lead him to the exit.

konig looked back, hoping that maybe the world was playing some cruel joke on him. hoping that his little liebe would put on her perfect smile and jump up saying "just kidding." pull another one of her silly jokes that konig rarely found funny. but she never did. and she never would.

with the weight of a mountain on his shoulders and pit the size of an ocean in his chest, könig followed ghost and soap as they walked out the door and into the night.

the weight of the world felt like it was pushing down on him, threatening to tear him apart. but the weight of the ring box in his pocket seemed infinitely heavier.

könig's world had been shattered by the loss of his princess, and a piece of him died with her. a piece he would never get back.

i am

so sorry?

for my bad writing

for the scenario :)