#implied suicide reference

[faithfromanewperspective]

I grew up believing that if you have shit worth stealing while people need to eat, you don't really have a right to complain if you get robbed. I came to this position out of pure spite: my family were never rich, but as a kid with no autonomy over anything I owned who was sheltered from responsibility but saw poverty from a young age, I didn't know that. I just wished I had something worth stealing so that I could be free of the expectation to find happiness in material things I couldn't control the destination of, feel worthy because something I had made a difference in someone's life.

decades later, the option came to opt out of using my writing to train AI, and I chose not to take it. I tell myself it's because filling in any form often sends me into a meltdown it takes days for my nervous system to recover from (which is true) but there's also something narcissistic (morally neutral) within me that says. me? you think my stuff is good enough to train your bot on? I made anything good enough to steal? fuck yeah I wanna be stolen from. god knows I put so much out there into the universe and no one fucking cares. might be good to get some acknowledgement even if it's only in a turn of phrase I used that I see someone else catching onto: I've been there when I was a trendsetter in high school and felt on top of the world to think some of the shit that came out of my brain meant enough to someone that they started doing it too.

and I know a bot isn't the same and no one who is starving gets any benefit from it it's pure greed with a side of environmental destruction and you have every right to protest against them using your intellectual property and I fully support each and every one of you for doing that. but also, if you're me and you desperately want people to feel okay and you can't end exploitation fully but sometimes ending it for one person is enough, I'll voluntarily take the place of the exploited in a heartbeat. it's fucked up, I know that, but if it means I'm not dead yet from the frustration of it all it's a misplaced kind of coping mechanism but when I do it in little ways, I can say no to the big ways that cause me actual harm.

technically, this doesn't align with my beliefs at all but for some reason in my head, stealing is wrong when it's from anyone but me. I'm a stickler for intellectual property who has been known to rant about the injustices perpetuated by streaming services to both artists and users but when it's the thoughts coming out of my head I want them in the world by any means possible. I don't care if I get acknowledged. it's better than being completely unheard, invisible, to think it's going towards something--it's like I trust there's enough good in what I spew out to think that if it's getting used for evil, evil won't get very far with it. I don't care if it doesn't have a soul, I'm offering it mine bleeding out around the edges. don't take anyone else's. take mine. it's hurting me otherwise.

now I've admitted to enabling capitalism I ask myself: what am I but a part of the commons? am I a person and an artist on my own or am I simply creative commons? I need to get these thoughts out before they kill me. one day I'll make something I'm actually proud of and try get some cash for it. for now I'm overflowing and I don't give a fuck where any of it goes. take it, it's better than taking something that means a lot to someone else.

[sotogalmo]

3:00 am (4 days ago) — 12:34

“Come, my prince, kiss me in that forest...”

@alien-til-i-stage / @starry-skiez (small but lots of mentions of Ciaran) :

@solei-eclipse / @junebluues / @chokkito / @4listr / @aakaneeee / @rockwgooglyeyes / @teapotuser + @bluemoonscape

Before it all— continuing from my other post, which is the aftermath.

"now, let's get some rest. Tomorrow is a very special day, is it not?" Yume has said, a lot of the times after seeing the 'Sun' set while being in the garden.

It's something that he's cherished, but not outrightly stated that it's something he liked doing. It's more like a gift- that's what Yume has thought and called it

Sleep is a gift; and those who are able to sleep are given such a gift because it's necessary for them (not for me, they wanted to see if they can push me to the end)

And such a gift, is good for them.

And it's something he wanted to learn about; it's not that weird that he watches others, isn't it?

He's learning about it, and it's better to do it up close and personal- a hands-on type of experiment. So it's not weird of him to stare.

It's actually quite normal for him to stare at others.

Seeing others sleep, whether they sleep within seconds or take longer- it's all interesting to him.

They are also in weird and funny positions to sleep in... But it's nice that they trust him when they fall asleep next to him.

He, Yume Nagai -"the sleep potentate"- finds it's very nice of them to trust him with such dreams and how close he is to them (physically, he doesn't really know what happens in their dreams, but he hopes it's nothing but what they want)

But it seems whenever they sleep close to him, they have happy dreams!

That makes him.. feel... Nice about himself. And it gives him purpose.

To which, he couldn't help but let his mind wander thru his past as he stared at some of them sleeping.

His past before he met the ones in his class; before he met his class.

His past where he would indulge in his own choosing of hanging out with Ald, for as long as he can. That has him asking questions, and never getting a full straight answer— but the fact that he can hang out and hear his voice?

Ah, it's so wonderful that it just drives him wild.

Even if Ald later down the line forgot about him and then got a new pet, oh what was his name? Sebstian? Sebastion? No one cares.

Yume had loved him since they had their first meeting; when they first looked at each other and then a spark happened.

And he was helpful too! Since he could bring Ald to greatness and provide wealth for him; he was technically the son of a doctor.

And he didn't mind! He actually accepted it, outright. And if it means that the silly childhood promise they both made when they met, could be kept in like a secret; a place where he will compromise for Ald's forgetfulness—

Because as long as he has him, surely everything will be alright. Even if he forgets- as long as they are together physically; he can be safe and sweet.

...

To which, it connects to what he's been seeing and what he's seeing right now. Someone is having trouble sleeping- someone not close to him, so they're fine.

But some of them seem to be in a nightmare; granted, Sebastian always has nightmares or just plain black dreams. so it's not surprising when it comes to him—

But for the others. It's a bit of a surprise. But then again, this places does bring them so much anxiety- fear and relentless horror. Even if they don't know it.

At least the subtle-ness of such a place gets to them subconsciously. It always was like that for him, so most likely it's for the others too. It would make sense

And in a way, he has just the right thing for them that can soothe them and bring much happier dreams than the ones that they're having. Well- not really, and he doesn't feel up to it.

In a way, he's jealous because they can have this gift of being human and having a rest. It's a gift that many of them have shared with others since the very start of their birth.

But, also- he's helpful to them because he can lure them to sleep— he was helpful for Ald!

He thinks he's helpful for the others because of how he can help them with their sleeping habits. And it makes him happy that he can help them; which has turned into a thing he does for the sake of their health and overall happiness.

Everyone has worries that weigh them down from day to day, he knows that with perfect -unchained, unscorecard, and unrestrained- knowledge because he's always seen worry.

"mama" he would first think, and then- "or papa... I don't know which is more fitting for them, but mama gives me... makes me a tiny bit of.. happiness..."

But then he'll just continue this train of thought: "mama and every other person I was able to see.. I could see their worries plain as day. Even with their sleeplessness, it wasn't hard to find it. It's under their eyelids, they are called "eye bags" I've been told by ama." — "and that was why some of them have been so surprised when I went up to them, whenever I could. I think."

"But! Now! With this medicine I plan on making, with the tiny leaves I've gathered when I was out playing with Ciaran (ah, ciaran..), and the.. cuts I gave myself. Leaves and liquid are important for making a cure, right?"

Yume hums a small tone, nothing significant. Just something that he regularly hums whenever he's too deep into his mind— "repeated tasks in uninspiring daily life, deepest longings.. ah, you know. Only inside a dream, you can leave it all behind-"

He's thought of that, too many times.

To close his eyes, cast away anything - anyone - everyone and everything he's tired of because if-

Ah. You already know that though. I bet you do, it's the main reason why he was made!

Such irony.

That he, now also does the same for the same reason; to lose himseld in his mind inside of his realities, where it's all true! (oh, who needs reality when you can dream? It's very simple!)

.

. .

. . .

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.

.... . / .-- .- .-.. -.- . -.. / - --- / - .... . -- .-.-.- / --. .. ...- .. -. --. / - .... . -- / .- / --. .. ..-. - .-.-.- / .- / --. .. ..-. - / ..-. --- .-. / - .... . -- / - --- / -... . / ..-. .-. . . / ..-. .-. --- -- / - .... . / .-.. .. ..-. . / - .... .- - / .. ... / .- -. .- -.- - / --. .- .-. -.. . -. .-.-.- / .- / --. .. ..-. - --..-- / .- / -... .-.. ..- . / ...- .. .- .-.. .-.-.- / .- / ...- .. .- .-.. / .. -. / .... .. ... / .... .- -. -.. / - .... .- - / .. ... / -.. .- -- .- --. . -.. / -... . -.-- --- -. -.. / .-. . - ..- .-. -. --..-- / .- -. -.. / - .... .- - / -... .-.. ..- . / ...- .. .- .-.. / .-.. --- --- -.- ... / .-.. .. -.- . / .-- .- - . .-. .-.-.- / ... ..- .-. . .-.. -.-- / - .... .. ... / --. .. ..-. - / .. ... / -. --- / .--. --- .. ... --- -. -.-.-- / -... . -.-. .- ..- ... . / .-- .... -.-- / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / .. - / -... . ..--.. / .-- .... -.-- / .-- --- ..- .-.. -.. / .... . / --. .. ...- . / - .... . -- / ... ..- -.-. .... / .- / - .... .. -. --. ..--.. / .... . / -.-. .- .-. . ... / ..-. --- .-. / - .... . -- .-.-.- / - .... . ... . / .-.. --- .-- .-.. -.-- / .--. . - ... / --- -. .-.. -.-- / .-- .- -. - .. -. --. / .- -. -.. / .-- .- .. - .. -. --. / ..-. --- .-. / - .... . / --. .-. .. -- .-.-.- / - .... . / -- ..- .-. -.- -.-- / .-- .- - . .-. --..-- / - --- --- / -.. .- .-. -.- / -.-- . - / .. - .----. ... / ... - .. .-.. .-.. / .-..-. .-- .- - . .-. .-..-. .-.-.- / .- / --. .. ..-. - / - --- / .- .-.. .-.. / --- ..-. / - .... . -- .-.-.- / -. --- .-- / --- ..-. ..-. / .. -. - --- / .... .- .--. .--. -.-- / -.. .-. . .- -- ... --..-- / .- .-.. .-.. / - .... . / -.-. .... .. .-.. -.. .-. . -. / ... .... .- .-.. .-.. / -.. .-. .. ..-. - / - --- / - .... . .. .-. / ... .- ..-. . / .... .- ...- . -. .-.-.-

But now,

I can—

Be free.....

Yume hums a small tone, nothing significant. Just something that he regularly hums whenever he's too deep into his mind— He thinks he's helpful for the others because of how he can help them with their sleeping habits; he's shown that! His vial, his medicine- his "gift". And it makes him happy that he can help them; which has turned into a thing he does for the sake of their health and overall happiness.

For the sake of his—

CRASH. (Wink)

Oh?

Ah.

That rat— vermin, again.

Isn't it?

Roaming the halls, seems like he's not actually a heavy sleeper; but that's to be expected. He's always on the worry side of everything.

That's what Ald has been telling him, when he was first adopted he would make these small mistakes just like a new-born fawn! Ald found it funny, and so does Yume.

Hah, how can a faun- a deer survive in these conditions?

Ah.

But if he finds out; oh. He might tell the others— he seems to be that type of person, either way.

A scaredy cat that makes too many mistakes that it's funny, a mouse that tells on others, a rat that hears and whines, a vermin who's nothing but pest— nothing but oblivious to the idea that Yume has; that will set them both and many others free from this place.

So, yes. He has “"broken in"”. Not his fault that the aliens didn't trust him enough to watch the others...

.

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. . .

. . . .

. . . . .

. . . . . .

They met.

Face to face—

Once again. But this time with no "axe" behind Yume as to "disregard" his 'clone' (ahahah, ahahaha! funny- because he's the one and only Yume Nagai. Why would there be clones of him?)

They were standing near- so damn near- the entrance of the garden.

The ever-shifting colored box; the top of it open. They could see the stars- the other planets— everything.

. .

. . .

But that doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter to him; Yume. It doesn't matter.

It shouldn't, and it doesn't matter.

Why is Sebastian so resistant? Why does he hesitate (Drink up the vial. Take a breath; Suck out the poison, let it touch you) ? Why does he second guess, everything given to him?

This gift, why does he wake so easily from it?

This gift, why does he always worry it would never work?

This gift, why does he call it "nightmare"?

... Yume walks away; oh, he doesn't want to spend a MINUTE longer with this ginger!

He always makes him confused, questioning himself; but of course! What he thinks about Sebastian is nothing but rivalry!

Why should he feel connected, and feel just the same when he was with Ald (with Ciaran)?

Sebastian is the total opposite of them, and that doesn't feel nice.

Yume is now back in his room. Not alone, but he's back in his room. In all honesty, that's better than being in the halls where the others could see them.

This is better, because he can now- revisit the way he did his cure. (Feelin' feelin' feelin' feelin' f e a r)

And maybe have someone taste it (Drink up the vial. Take a breath; Suck out the poison, let it touch you) out! To see if it's perfect for the others.. even if he already gave those said others (those nobodies) their peace!

Yume sits back down, close to the area where he was making his cure; his gift to them all. Before he heard Sebastian's voice;

Of course it wobbled, but only a slight bit before he 'yelled' (more like he whispered this out loud in a very hushed but loud voice)— "Stop this already!"

To which? Of course, Yume responded, in the same tone and everything. You don't want the others to catch you, right?

"Stop what?"

Sebastian's hands waved around in the air (With a slight fever,) as he tried to remember what Yume called that glass bottle- "this- that thing that you're creating!—

You can't keep making it-!" Such a ""hero"" (but he is here with a weapon.. no, it can't be.)

"Why not!? Why not!? What's so bad about finally having rest!?" (wink.) "I'm here to save you all!"

"To start the end of the beginning."

"......"

"So I can finally meet him again... I have to do this."

"How are you so sure that this will make you meet him?"

"you... you just want to die!"

"AND!?"

"if I DIE, then they'll surely ask you about me. And he- he'll ask you about me! He'll finally talk about me!"

"Also...." Yume stopped for a bit, lowering his hoarse voice.

"Are how you so sure, I'll die? I know I will, but I'll not stay dead for long. I know it for sure." Saying it with such childishly sweet reassurance.

Sebastian gripped his scissors. Wondering if that tone should've been comforting, or something. It sounds— wrong. Like it's not supposed, to be that childish. That sweet- that unbothered.

Yume held onto his box cutters, the ones he found and hid away from the aliens- so very well.

"Besides. You know what Ald eats."

Sebastian shudders at the memories of seeing.. three? Or possibly more, human bodies that sometimes look like him; with the same clothes and everything-! The same rat hats, same rat tail belts, and everything. (Even the same things that the other pets would hunt- everything was prey. He was prey. But he lived; why? What's so interesting about him? Why did Ald keep him alive?)

"I only hope to be helpful to him. To be his resource, to be his~."

Sebastian looked away as he slightly drew blood from his own hand holding onto his scissors too tightly. "I should've known it would be like this, for that reason.. because you are weird, and a freak... ..... but why.. just why Yume..."

"it's only natural, that I'll finally be useful to him. And that they'll never let me go... I'm too important to them."

"Why.."

"Isn't painful? Suffocating?

Do you just want to escape it all?"

He's being... He's being vulnerable.

"Too tired of it all?" (A woman is eavesdropping on them; she lightly shakes and then looks down while having her robe on. She understands what he's saying.....)

"But."

What do you mean "but"? (Drink up the vial

Take a breath

Wink

Suck out the poison

Let it touch you)

"That's alright. It's fine; it's just how- and the way humans are."

You're saying that like you're.. you, yourself aren't human.... (Save this game, Mr. A)

Yume brings his box cutters to a spot on his wrist, like he's an expert at such harm (he is, just look at how he needed a glove to hide his marks!)— he didn't even have to look at his arm; his hand.

He knew just the spot, and he knew how to finish his cure; his gift— the heaven's blessing.

Love's love.

.

. .

. . .

His own blood.

If he can't give it to Ald (not Ald, not Ald. It's Ciaran), then he can at least "accidentally" give it to him.

The leaves, his blood, the poppy lookalike flowers (they are called ANAKT flowers, but he doesn't buy it. Fake? Of course, but it's the best he can do)- along with one silvervine.

Sebastian looks around, continuing to draw blood from his sweaty palm that is holding onto his weapon (Still covering my right eye

I check the tears). ..... He's thinking of doing what he should do- as a way to stop this craziness (yes, he knows that Yume has already been crazy from the start since they met, but this— ....)

A cut; and the drip-drip-drip of fresh blood. The metal smell overwhelms Sebastian, as he dashes forwards to pull Yume away; getting some of it (the blood, the blood coming from Yume's already too far gone wrist) way from the small bottle that Yume has been working on for who knows how long..

To which?

Yume attacks.

How DARE he stop this!

He would've dragged him down with him later or earlier, but now it seems like he should drag him down with him; NOW.

If Sebastian is acting like this, then he must surely want to be dead with him right now— but he can't.. he doesn't have the strength for it. (The woman outside of their door, starts to leave. They don't pay attention- but surely the guards might've- should've heard of her steps. It seems to be close to morning? The time where they would put the place in "day mode"; pink hair in cat-ear like buns sways, leaving with a younger girl who has ear-length ginger brown hair)

So it was easy for Sebastian, the one who can hold an alien back by one hand, to hold him in place and to at least try and help— keyword; try.

He tries.

He doesn't succeeds.

Yume scratches at his arm's bicep.

Not necessarily with his nails, but also with his box cutter. It's easy to do that (he had to, switch? the placement of his box cutters onto the other hand because his hand is bleeding out. Slowly, but still).

He was giving something back; he was giving that pain back. Not to the actual one who caused it, but the one who caused confusion for him.

He lightly smirked again, a last time type of smirk; the same smirk he had when they first met (God, Sebastian thinks, this makes me sound cheesy as hell. As if I liked him- no, not that. As if I "loved" him.....)

But his smirk was hiding something. Sebastian just knows it; how can he smile like this? And use so much force to crave words into his biceps....

He's—

you had used me, and abused me, made me feel small. You had cast aside my feelings, treated me like a doll. Even long before the gift, you'd broken my heart.

It was all I could do to tear the damn place apart! (I'll scream until I rot away)

They are face to face again.

Sebastian is holding in his tears (he doesn't want to be seen as weak, or pathetic. He doesn't like tears because of that. He only wants to be helpful)

Yume is ever smiling back at him.

. . . This feels so weird...

it's a medicine, it brings sleep make no mistake. And the sleep's eternal, so you never shall wake.

With what he can do for now, he reaches over to the glass bottle. Sebastian doesn't move, as he only tighten his grip onto him- trying so much.

"This is okay. This is okay." Yume said, what is he trying to achieve with saying that?

My Insomnia is transformed to a thing of the past.

Yume pushes them both away from each other. Sebastian brings his scissors to Yume's shoulder; close to his neck and collarbone (he wanted to stop this, in one way to another. Even if blood is made. He has to chase his heart) — to that, Yume somewhat whined. Only for a little bit

No longer the sleep princess, instead the sleeping beauty~—

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.

The same pink haired woman is lightly seen. She's with— no.

It can't be.

It must be a clone, at least!

[cubitodragon-moved]

We (the viewers) know Bad’s physical and mental state is in decline, highlighted especially by the head wound that continues expanding to a worrying degree.

And now he’s fixated on building a puzzle that will deliberately drive someone into an absolute rage, to the point they’d murder him. He’s really really fixated on that point. Like, he has doubled down on the emphasis.

He’s been vaguely referencing how he needs to keep going as long as he can (paraphrased) for a while. Is this a case where he cannot let himself fade away, to die at his own hand, but needs someone else to take him out - and if so, why? What additional purpose does death serve in this scenario? How does this tie in to memories, libraries and remembering?

I have to go sleep now. But thinking about this could well keep me up all night.

[lvminisciel]

You are a god, and i am your scales.

not even close to a compliance, 

i am but mere scales, flocked around

bits of me will soon fall into the abyss

as you soared with your grace

amidst grayish hue

dutifully, every single being within me

shall worship you with no argue, unquestioning, unyielding.

not even close to an envoy, 

i live on day by day

believing that i am covering you, safeguarding, protecting—

even when Your might is greater than all of us combined 

i am but a mere mortal devoting my insignificant existence to you, 

an omnipotent immortal who shall rule this bountiful land 

dutifully i tread my path

whatever appeal you shall i serve

i am more than grateful to be alive within your grasp

please do use me to your heart's desire

a being dedicated to you and only you

if it is death you adore,

my carcass shall be handed to you on a silver platter

if it is life you crave,

then i shall travel between realms

even if it meant trapping my soul in the process

if it is love you yearn

then i repent, my Lord,

for i have none to give

nor do a temporal frame such as i

deserving of such decorum 

please forgive my incompetence, your Highness

you may have my skull in exchange, if you wish

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

Winter Sounds — Campbell Bain x Reader

*This chapter has words with slashes. This is means you use the word that applies to where you live. Like GED in America means "General Educational Development Test" while there is no U.K. Equivalent (based off a thirty-second Google search) but I found A-Levels which is what Rose Tyler refers to when talking about school in the revival Pilot so... this is how I learn about things, I pick up what I've heard in TV shows. Obviously there are other countries but I’ve never heard of any other terms for these so comment if I missed some.*

Summary: It’s Campbell and Y/n’s last day together before he goes traveling for a Radio DJ competition, unfortunately Y/n can’t come with and Campbell has become a little clingy

Warnings: Mentions of the suicide of a good friend of theirs, Spoilers for Takin' Over the Aslyum, Winter activities, Skating, Implied Short Reader, Implied Non-Scottish Reader; Mention of Past Toxic Relationship; Referenced but not mentioned relationship involving rape.

Note: I had the perfect gif for this when it was on Wattpad but I have a new laptop now and they took down my account and I can't find the gif. It was a gif of a couple kssing on the ice and then they slipped and both fell down.

(Post-Asylum; May be connected to "Sweet Jane" or read alone; If you decided to include this in Sweet Jane, this takes place between the ending of the series and the epilogue written by me.)

"I want your love to consume me like an oversized winter coat. Hands clasped around my waist like buttons done up properly."

Early March, 1995 (Early Eight months since the events of Takin’ Over the Asylum)

They had known for nearly two months that Campbell would be leaving but Y/n was on her way to get her A-Levels/GED since she had dropped out of secondary school/high school to go to the asylum but now it seemed that it had hit Campbell as he was even more clingy than normal.

"Campbell." She groaned as he hugged her from behind as she was trying to make Scottish Lentil soup for the two.

"But... baaaabe, I'm leaving tomorrow. I won't be able to see you in three weeks." He whined, burying his head into her back. "I won't be able to touch you. I won't be able to snuggle you as we sleep. I won't' be able to hear your voice."

"We can still talk on the phone." She protested.

"It's not the same! I won't be able to kiss your back." He whined.

He kissed her back before trailing to her shoulder as he pulled her sleeve up to reveal her shoulder and kissed it, "I won't be able to kiss your shoulder." He moved to her neck, "I won't be able to kiss your neck." He grasped her hips and turned her around and kissed her cheek, moving to her jaw and chin. "I won't be able to kiss your cheeks, your chin, your jaw." He pulled away to ease her to the counter beside the stove before pressing her against it as she couldn't help but smile and giggle. He kissed up her face to her forehead. "I won't be able to kiss your face." He tilted her head up and he kissed her lips. "I won't be able to kiss your lips."

"Cam... we..." He kept quieting her with kisses before moving to her neck, though it seemed he was taking in her scent as he kissed her neck. She had leaned her head back so he could have access with he happily obliged with open-mouthed kisses. "Campbell, it's five. I, uh, I had some plans for a date tonight. But we need to eat first."

"What kind of date? Dinner? Movie?" He hummed.

"No, that's why we're eating now." She said.

"Wait a minute, it's nearly twelve in the morning. What date takes place after midnight?"

"It'll be outside. You'll need to dress in warm clothing. But I need to finish the soup first." 

He gave her a smile with a deep emotion in his eyes, she couldn't quite detect, "What?"

"I just love you so bloody much." He said, earnestly.

--

Campbell and Y/n walked through Glasgow with her being all vague which kept Campbell frustrated and all pouty.

"Be patient, Cam."

"I'm not a patient person!" He almost yelled.

"Oh, I know." She said, playing with her satchel that she refused to show Campbell what it contained. "Just wait and see."

"Just wait and see!? Do you have any idea how irritating that is!?" He whined.

She eventually led him to a park, it was a rather snowy March, so the pond at the park was frozen, she took a pair of ice skates out of her satchel.

"You want to skate at one in the morning?" He laughed.

"Well, I'm a looney." She teased.

"Yes, you are." He grinned and kissed her, he cupped her face with both hands. "Yes, you are."

--

Ten minutes later, Y/n was teaching Campbell how to skate, though he was a bit clumsy but she kept him up by holding his hand.

At one point, she did an impressive spin, which made her hair spin around her head like a H/C halo as Campbell watched with a dropped jaw... drooling slightly.

"How'd you learn how to do this anyways?" He laughed, flailing his arms, trying to keep himself upright.

Y/n spun around and her smile faltered before turning bittersweet, "Uh, when I first arrived to Saint Jude's... Fergus took me." 

"Oh."

"He took me a few times, not even expecting me to talk. I picked this up quick and I even laughed. He considered that a victory." She said, sadly.

Campbell slid over to her and embraced her, which he originally intended to do but also to stop him from falling. "I miss him too." Campbell said in her ear, he pulled away.

She handed her hand out in front of her, offering it to him which he took and she skated with him, he... well, to say, he got the hang of it isn't right, but he wasn't completely fall-on-his-face-with-each-stroke terrible. 

At one point, she tripped and nearly fell but Campbell caught her through this threw him off balance and he fell with Y/n landing on top of him. 

They laughed at this and kissed, they decided they had had enough and put their shoes on that they had clipped to their belts and got up on the ice.

 Campbell brushed off some snow and then turned to his girlfriend who was looking at him with a sparkle in her eyes.

"What?" He laughed.

"I love you so bloody much too." She said.

He grinned... like a maniac... like a looney and he pulled her in by the waist for a slow, passionate kiss but slipped on the ice now wearing his normal shoes and he pulled Y/n closed which brought them both down with her, once again, landing on his chest.

"I just can't play it cool." He laughed.

"I don't know. Nineteen-year-old Radio DJ. Hyperactive, loud, energetic, passionate, enthuastic, charismatic, spontaneous, easy-going, creative, independent, brave, funny, sarcastic, sexy..." He clicked his tongue and winked at her.

"Mmm, do say more things you like about my personality." He hummed, playing with a short lock of hair of hers. 

"Impulsive, loud, hard to keep track off." She teased.

"Oh, you wound me." He groaned, dramatically.

"How about this? Sweet, loyal, handsome, romantic, hot..."

"Yeah. That's the ticket." He said, nodding, "But you forgot one thing. Totally, ridicouslously in love with you and definitely going to miss you for the next three weeks."

"Me too. You've been in my life for less than a year and already... I can't imagine my life without you. You're all the things I just said and more. You are the best guy I have ever dated though granted, given the last and only other one abused me for years on end and traumatized me into muteness, that wasn't a high bar." She looked down, averting eye contact with Campbell.

Campbell tucked the lock of her hair behind her ear, "He won't ever hurt you again, baby. Never ever."

She shivered a little and concerned appeared on his face, "Shite. Your nose is all red. You're freezing. Let's get ho... let's get you home." Once off the ice and pulled him back and he looked at her.

She stepped closer, raising herself on her tip-toes while weaving her hand through his hair on the back of his head and kissed him slowly when she pulled away, his eyes fluttered open and then shook his head.

“Sorry, you know, most girls, normal girls, always dream of having the perfect kiss with the perfect guy.” She said and then cringed, “Sorry, that was like the cheesiest thing ever.”

“Yeah, it was. So that’s super embarrassing for you.” He teased but then she sneezed. “Let’s get you home before I have to drop out of the DJ competition to take care of you. Come with me, Juliet. Follow your Romeo.” Then he immediately slipped and fell back down, face first in a pile of snow.

--

Campbell handed her a cup of freshly made hot chocolate with whipped cream after she got out of the shower when they got home.

"Oh, how thoughtful." Y/n said, cupping her boyfriend's cheek and stroking it with her thumb.

She took the mug and drank a big gulp, letting it warm her insides as she had already began to get cold from the shower.

Campbell grinned when he saw she had whipped cream on her nose, he leaned over and licked and kissed it off.

"Campbell!" She laughed.

"Mmm. Tastes only slightly more sweet than usual."

"The whipped cream?" She asked.

"No, you. Your taste. The taste of your skin." He teased.

"God, you're a dork." She drank some more hot chocolate and as soon as she swallowed he kissed her, allowing him to taste the hot chocolate on her lips and she giggled against his lips. "You're so weird, Bain."

"You are simply beautiful, L/n." He hummed.

--

Thirty minutes, later at like, two-thirty in the morning, they were both finally in bed.

"Promise me something?" She asked, laying on his chest.

"Hmm-mmm." He hummed, half-asleep.

"Campbell." She smacked his chest and he propped himself of his elbows to look at her, albeit, slightly sleep blurry-eyed.

"Hmm?" He asked but she didn't answer, he looked at her and saw her biting her lip, nervously. He sat up, wrapping his arms around his knees, "Babe, what is it?"

"Promise me you won't find some girl wherever this competition is going to to take you, someone who's willing to have sex with you..."

Campbell tilted her head up and kissed her before pulling back and looking her dead in the eye and saying, seriously, "One year ago, if someone were to ask me what my perfect dream girl would be, she wouldn't even come close to you." He kissed her gently again and then gave her a goofy smile, "That cheesy enough for you?"

"Yeah, and it was super embarrassing for you." She teased and he pulled her into his chest as they laid back down with him burying his face in the top of her head.

"I'm in this for the long run, Y/n. I promise. Your first time should've be special but it wasn't, I'm willing to wait until you're ready." He whispered. "God, I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too." She said and leaned up and kissed him.

He turned off the light and they drifted to sleep.

--

At the airport, the next afternoon, Eddie was saying goodbye to Francine while Campbell hugged Y/n, repeating how much he loved her and kissing her passionately.

"Call me? Every day. Even if it's the middle of the night for me." She requested.

He laughed, "You bet. I'll tell you about my day. Probably have to get another room from Eddie or else, I'll annoy him. You call me too. If you just want to talk, you call me. Even in the middle of the night."

"Babe, you'll be having a competition. I can't do that. You call me, I'll call you if you're awake. You call me every time you land and I'll look up the time zone differences and call you."

"I'll keep my mobile on me at all times."  He promised and kissed her.

"Campbell, we've got to go." Eddie said, irriatedly.

Campbell groaned, "Bye, babe. I love you." He said and pecked her lips before going with Eddie to board the plane.

“Wait!” Y/n shouted, running at him, he turned and felt her attack him with a hug. "Two years ago, when I was still talking, if you asked me to describe my perfect dream guy, he wouldn't even come close to you either." She said into his ear.

He chuckled, “You stole my line.”

“Campbell!” Eddie shouted.

“IN A MINUTE! I have to go. Love you.” He kissed her again and ran off with Eddie.

[sparrowsage]

The Warehouse: Digging Up Old Memories

Buckle up, because this piece is something. I really enjoyed writing this piece, even if it is a giant emotional show lol. A huge shoutout and thanks to @flowersarefreetherapy for giving me the general idea for this piece! I hope I did it justice! And thank you to @darkthingshappen, @oddsconvert, and @whumpcereal for cheering me on as always!

HEED THE WARNINGS FOR THIS ONE!!!

TW: Minor whump (Jayden is 14), head injury, threatened noncon drugging, implied noncon (off screen), threatened noncon, mentions of past noncon and torture, implied future noncon, character death (off screen), suicidal thoughts, adult character referred to as 'boy', adult language, heavy grieving ((If I missed anything, please tell me and I'll add it!))

“No, I’m sick of doing this shit!” Jayden yelled, stepping back from Logan as the Keeper moved in closer, towering over the teen. “You never stay true to your word! I can’t let you stand by and hurt Sparrow after I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do!” 

Sparrow stared at the two of them, wide-eyed as fear grabbed hold of him. Sure, Sparrow’s challenged the Keeper’s here plenty of times, but that was because whatever ended up happening would happen to him. Jayden fighting back like this? All for his sake? It was thoughtful, but he couldn’t handle the wrath of the Keepers. 

Logan backed Jayden up against the wall, his hand shooting forward to the kid’s neck, taking hold of his throat in a tight grip just shy of suffocating him. 

“I’d be real careful about your choice here, boy. That piece of shit over there doesn’t deserve a hero, let alone a scrawny one such as yourself. Everyone always comes to the realization that they can’t escape this fate, one way or another. It’s easier for the both of you if you just follow my orders. So what’ll it be, pretty boy? Are you going to show me and the bastard here how much of a good listener you are and suck me off or are you going to continue your little defiant act thinking you can best me?” 

Jayden’s hands were around the Keeper’s wrist, doing his best to try and scratch Logan in an attempt to get the hand off his neck, but it wasn’t working. He was too weak. At the question, Jayden stared right back at Logan, his expression sharp enough to cut diamonds. 

“Jayden, please-,” Sparrow tried, on the verge of getting up from his spot against the wall by the door. Logan had told him to stay put and that if he moved, he’d force Sparrow to watch the worst Showing he’d ever put Jayden through. 

“Shut up, runt,” Logan growled, his head turning slightly in Sparrow’s direction. “He has to make this decision on his own.” 

There was silence for a couple seconds and Sparrow could feel the anger rolling off the both of them in waves. 

“You and this whole place can go rot in hell. I’m not following another one of your stupid orders just because you think you deserve respect,” Jayden finally spat, bracing himself against the wall before kicking his foot out, his heel landing a direct hit to Logan’s crotch. 

The Keeper could hardly brace himself before Jayden’s foot connected with his crotch, Logan doubling over for a moment, his hand never leaving Jayden’s throat, before a loud, angry scream erupted out of his mouth. 

In a fluid motion, Logan used all the strength he could muster and lifted Jayden by his neck and threw him to the left over by his desk. Sparrow watched on in horror as he saw the fear and terror flash across Jayden’s eyes as he went flying before the back of the teen’s head connected with the sharp corner of Logan’s desk. He crumpled to the floor as Logan doubled over again, letting out small groans of pain. 

“Jayden!” Sparrow shouted, his body jerking momentarily as he went to get up, but remembered Logan’s threat from earlier, causing him to stay in place. 

He wasn’t getting up and there was blood leaking out onto the floor. Sparrow couldn’t tell if he was breathing. 

“Jayden, get up!” he cried out, Sparrow’s whole body frozen in fear. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Logan yelled, his head turning sharply to look at Sparrow. 

“No, please, he’s not getting up!” Sparrow pleaded, his fists white with how tight they were balled up. “Please, I’ll do whatever the fuck you want, just take him to the medical ward, please!” 

Logan chuckled slightly as he was finally able to stand up straight again. “Oh, you think a bit of pleading will convince me to get him treated? As if. The little shit deserved it, thinking he could fight back like that. Besides, you stupid mutts always seem to recover. He’ll be fine come tomorrow.” 

Instead of continuing on with what he had planned, Logan gave one last look to Jayden and Sparrow before deciding to leave his office. There’d be time to do things with them later. 

Sparrow let out a snarl as Logan passed him to leave, waiting for the door to shut before he rushed over to Jayden, his hands hovering over his body, afraid that a single touch would make his friend crumble into dust. 

#####

“No, you have to let me stay with him!” Sparrow shouted, desperately trying to fight his way out of Josh’s grip on him. “Let me go!” 

“You’re scheduled for a Showing and there’s no way you’re missing it,” Josh growled, his grip seeming to get tighter the more Sparrow fought. “He’ll be fine and you’ll get to go back to the main room and see him once the Showing is over.” 

“No, he needs me to stay with him since you fuckers won’t take him to the medical ward! Let go of me!” 

Josh stopped trying to drag Sparrow forward and out of Logan’s office, instead pulling him in close with an iron tight grip on both his wrists. Their faces were mere inches apart and Sparrow could feel the warmth of his breath. “I won’t hesitate to inject you full of muscle relaxers, boy. You know as much as I do that you’ll do anything to fight back during these things, so do you really want to give up being able to move all because you want to sit by your little friend?” 

Sparrow’s body froze at the threat, his eyes going wide for a moment. Josh was right, he couldn’t go through a Showing drugged up like that. He’d have no control (not that he did during Showings) over anything. He couldn’t get injected with that stuff. 

Josh smirked as Sparrow stayed still, finally continuing towards the door to the office. “That’s what I thought. Once it’s over, you’ll be able to spend as much time with the little runt as you want.” 

#####

Sparrow wasn’t proud of the Showing he just went through. It had to have been the most compliant he’s ever been during one, but he didn’t want it to be dragged out. His only thought and priority was getting back to Jayden to make sure he was okay. 

Josh had been surprised with how compliant he had been, as was the audience that showed up to watch. It was utterly embarrassing, but he didn’t care enough to not do it. He would have been the most compliant pet in the entire facility if it had meant getting out of that Showroom faster. 

Once the Showing was done, Josh walked him back to the main hallway before leaving him there to do his own thing. The moment Josh left him, Sparrow started running to the main rooms, his heart rate picking up as he tried to get to the room as fast as he could. 

Sparrow was almost certain Logan would have moved him out of his office during the Showing, so the most logical place to put him would be one of the main rooms. That, or Jayden had woken up and Logan kicked him out of his office and he made his way to their spot in one of the main rooms. If Sparrow didn’t see him in there, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. 

When Sparrow finally made it to the doorway that led into the main room he and Jayden usually ended up in, he scanned the entire room, trying desperately to locate his friend. His anxiety was starting to climb with each face he saw, none of them being the young teen before his eyes landed on a figure in the corner where Jayden and him sat most of the time. 

He was there, sitting in his normal spot, looking completely fine. Jayden was waiting for him. 

Sparrow did his best to make it over to the back corner of the room, nearly tripping over several pets as they tried to sleep or just pass time, not even bothering to let out any kind of apology before making it over to his friend. 

“Jayden!” he called out, falling to his knees in front of his friend before embracing the teen in a tight hug. 

“You’re okay! You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” he said, his voice going quiet as he spoke, letting things sink in. His friend was okay, he was alive and that was all Sparrow cared about. 

“Of course I’m okay. Do you really think a bump on the head would keep me down?” Jayden joked, hugging Sparrow back. 

Sparrow pulled back slightly, his hands still on Jayden’s shoulders, afraid that if he let go, Jayden would disappear. “It’s just - you collapsed once your head hit the desk, a-and Logan refused to bring you to the medical ward, and then I was dragged off for a Showin-”

“Sparrow,” Jayden interrupted, his voice a bit firm, “I’m alright, I promise. I can’t die that easily. Besides, we promised each other we’d find a way to escape this place some day. I can’t go back on my word, now can I?” 

Sparrow wiped at his eyes, tears starting to form. “I’m just happy you’re okay. And you’re right, we are going to escape this place one day. Just please don’t go pissing off any more Keeper’s. Leave that to me, I can handle it.” 

Just then, the entire main room started to fade out, a black abyss surrounding the two of them. Sparrow didn’t even notice, his entire focus was on his friend. 

Jayden looked at Sparrow with a soft smile, his head slightly tilted to the side.

“I know you can. That fighting spirit is what’s giving me hope that you’ll be able to make it out of here alive. If you hold onto that, you’ll be able to escape. Just keep fighting. For the both of us.” 

Sparrow faltered a bit at that. “W-wait, what do you mean by that? We’re going to get out of here together.” 

Jayden didn’t answer, continuing to give Sparrow that soft, warm smile that he cherished so much as he slowly faded away. Before Jayden was completely gone, Sparrow reached forward, trying to grab hold of him before he fully disappeared, leaving Sparrow alone in the dark abyss.  

#####

Sparrow woke with a jump, jolting up from his spot on the floor of Damon’s office. Looking around the dark and empty room, Sparrow couldn’t see Jayden and was a bit confused, but mostly worried. 

Where was he? Jayden had just been in front of him a second ago. He wanted that back, he needed it back. 

The more he woke up though, the more things finally started to settle in. 

Four days ago, he had been brought back to the Warehouse from his two week stay at Volkov’s island, having gone through his ‘welcome home’ Showing yesterday. Two months ago, Damon had been put in charge of training him, starting up a brand new hell for him to navigate on his own. Five years ago, the Keeper’s gave up trying to train him because he was deemed a lost cause and couldn’t be trained, instead just using him as a free-for-all and overall enjoying causing him pain, discomfort and humiliation. Seven years ago was when he had watched Logan give his one and only friend a death blow and then later finding out that Jayden had died all alone while he was in a Showing Josh forced him to go through, unable to be with him in his final moments to make him feel safe and loved. 

As reality came crashing back, Sparrow couldn’t help the gut wrenching sob that erupted out of his throat, the pet clutching his hands close to his chest as he curled into himself. 

Ever since it happened, Sparrow had done all he could to repress that memory to the point that he couldn’t remember it at all. All he chose to remember was that Jayden died. Everything else, how it happened, the look of fear and terror right before his head connected with the desk, how much he tried to fight back as Josh dragged him off to the Showing, Logan’s fucking taunting once he finally told Sparrow what they did with Jayden after he died, he wanted to forget and never remember. 

He had no idea why the memory resurfaced. It had been so long ago, yet now he could remember every detail clearly, as if he were reliving it in full. It was the worst pain he has ever felt and would probably ever feel. And what made it worse was that his head went and twisted the events, giving him the false hope that Jayden was alive and fine. But Sparrow could never see him again. 

After a couple more minutes, Sparrow wiped the tears from his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control. It had to have been close to morning, if he had to guess, and Damon would be here soon to put him through another day of hell. If the Keeper walked in and saw him crying or saw the evidence that he had been crying, Sparrow would never hear the end of it. 

Before he could put a cap on his emotions, he felt another sob bubble up from his chest and before he could stop himself, he reared his fist back, sending it straight towards the wall beside him. The wall stayed intact but Sparrow let out a loud shout before biting his tongue, cradling his hand. 

Why couldn’t one of these guys have killed him too? Why couldn’t he have had the peace that his friend had? All he wanted was to be with Jayden again, because he was the only one that made this place bearable. His smile and laugh lifted his spirits no matter how he felt and his presence made Sparrow feel safe, even though there wasn’t a single thing either of them could do when the Keepers came for them. If he didn’t have that, if he didn’t have him here, there wasn’t much of a point to keep fighting. 

The pain that now pulsed from his bleeding and possibly broken hand acted as an anchor to the real world for him and Sparrow was able to stop the tears from falling, taking in a couple deep breaths before he felt like himself again. Damon would probably point out his hand when he came in later, but right now, Sparrow didn’t care. If Damon was overly concerned about it, he’d get it looked at because unlike Logan, Damon wasn’t going to sit by and have a wound that looked serious enough unchecked. Sparrow had no doubt that the Keeper wouldn't let him die before he himself molded Sparrow into the perfect pet. 

Taglist: @mannerofwhump, @honey-is-mesi, @painful-pooch, @whumperfully, @hiding-in-the-shadows, @flowersarefreetherapy, @goronska, @blueyellow8green, @oddsconvert, @darkthingshappen, @whumpcereal (if you want to be added, let me know!)

[briar--rising]

My mom stopped doing therapy a few years ago and I wish that she hadn’t. I mean, a therapist isn’t going to help the fundamental issues, esp not at this point. Heck she was in therapy throughout my entire childhood and it’s not like that made her not abuse me. But her dad just died and she’s having lots of feelings about it and if she took those feelings to a therapist instead of me that would be great. But she flat out refuses every time my dad or I bring it up.

[peapodfics]

Useless

By: EverlastingFlowers

Thumbnail Art by @pillonemelody <333

Domestic skk, Dazai unable to admit that he's out of his depth, Chuuya snapping at him and they both make up for it <333

CUTE,HEARTY, WHOLESOME! SEND A TON OF KUDOS TO THE AUTHOR <33

Also, Big BIG thanks to Mely for the amazing art for the thumbnail <33 They did such an amazing job with it CHECK OUT THEIR PAGE TOO!!1!!1

[timefospookies]

the silly!!!!

[pochapal]

oh ok so genji's just straight up confirming these deranged things as truth. got it.

[savageowlnocturne]

1° drawing

Nagisa: I don't want to do this...

2° drawing

Korosensei: but what happened to you?!

(what the pictures say)

Just a few drawings of nagisa abused that I have for some time, maybe one day he can be happy, in a better place...

[minusgangtime]

(Erect MB lore...)

(TW: Implied suicide and death)

(Remember when I said in a fact that Erect MB's feathers weren't always purple and glowing? Yeah... Ó.Ò)

[haven-gum-rockrose]

Pet peeve: when people making reaction videos refer to Dazai's suicidal tendencies with the word "seppuku." which is absolutely not what seppuku is. Now, tetchou swearing to split his gut if he breaks his word about Lucy and the ADA? That's seppuku. It's a very specific thing that happens a very specific way for a specific reason, and while it is related and they do share overlap in result, they are very much not words that can be used interchangeably.

[cora0rr3m]

Trans sherwin hurt comfort angst

Ive been feeling stressed out lately and i rlly needed to draw this 😭

why cant i just quit living lmao 😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣⁉️⁉️⁉️

[mckiwi]

Stephen Strange was a doctor, a good one at that– a great one. He and Death had never been on good terms. She took his family from him, so he took his patients’ lives back from Her. He always stood outside of Death’s door, guarding it, keeping it locked away from others as best as he could. But Death comes for everyone, in the end.

He should be dead. By all means, that wreck was supposed to have killed him. As he hung there suspended by nothing but seat belts, with blood rushing to his head and the cold-water biting into his skin, he knew he would close his eyes and never open them again. And yet, he did. If it wasn’t the wreck that killed him, then surely it would be the sight of his mangled hands. Why is he here? Surely Death would’ve taken him when She had the chance. Years he’d spent, cheating Death out of lives She had worked hard for. Well, he wouldn’t be able to cheat Her anymore, not with this new life, anyway. Maybe he had died, after all. Isn’t having nothing to live for just as good as being dead?

Stephen Strange was a sorcerer– definitely not the best, or even close to it, but he was decent. He’d found peace at Kamar-Taj. He found peace in the ancient books he couldn’t yet read and the sound of rain in the courtyard. He could heal his hands here, start his life anew and save people again. Then came Kaecilius and Dormammu.

It was hard to remember his oath to do no harm while staring at a dead man. A man that was dead because of him, no less. Stephen offered up this man to the claws of Death so that his own might be spared another day. Soon followed The Ancient One, accepting Death’s invitation after centuries of denying it. Sometimes he’d wonder why she looked almost relieved.

Stephen Strange was the wielder of the Time Stone. He locked himself in a loop to save the Earth, and all the lives he’d reversed in the process. Life and Death had a certain balance, and he was sure to keep to it. That old man on the street making stir fry? Stephen took a spear through the gut. The woman watching funny cat videos on her phone? Stephen was blasted into atoms. His life, over and over, in exchange for theirs.

During one loop, as Stephen was choking on his own blood, taking his final breaths, he thought he heard Death speaking to him. You don’t have to do this, you know? I could end this. You could end this.

Stephen Strange was a human man– and a human man shouldn’t have been able to experience fourteen million different lives and still be able to function. With each life came a death, then the cycle repeated. Despite what your kind thinks, I’m not cruel. Some see me as a bringer of peace. I could give you that. No, he wasn’t allowed to die. Not yet. The brain is an organ, too. It can kill you just as easily as any other if not properly cared for.

Fourteen million times now he’d robbed Death of his soul. He stood at the door and waited. Taunting, never coming inside, never even indicating that he’d wanted to. Occasionally he’d end up giving Death a few sacrifices, such as the likes of Tony Stark or Natasha Romanoff. Giving up such sacrifices took a toll on Stephen, much more so than he probably even realized himself.

Stephen Strange was a Master of the Mystic Arts, a good one at that– a great one. He and Death had grown closer over the years. She’d cut things short when the pain became too much to bear in the loop with Dormammu. She’d save him the agony of having Thanos shred his soul with the Soul Stone. He often dreamt of Her, and all the ways he’d finally get to be taken into Her arms forever. He’d spent years ripping people away from Her embrace. Now he understood why they’d be so upset once they came back.

In the process of trying to save America Chavez, he’d have to visit an old friend. To dreamwalk into his dead variant’s body, he’d first have to do something. He knocked on Death’s door. She answered with a smile and held out Her hand. He took it.

[binch-i-might-be]

my hitherto temporary work contract has now become permanent. yaaaay.