#tw attempted stabbing

[star-jagerman]

Video attachment:

Tw video glitching, violence, fighting, glass breaking, attempting stabbing, biting

[some how the camera angle has only seemed to have gotten better, the quality as well.

Sammy grabs one of the bottles on the ground and smashes it over Max’s head. The glass and what was left of the booze in the bottle rains down onto Max. Max rears up and Sammy takes this chance to kick Max in the chest, causing him to fall back.

The video glitches, for some reason certain spots in the frame glitch. Both Max’s and Sammy’s heads are glitched out as well as other background details. Words seem to flash by too quickly in these glitched spots.

Samual goes to stab Max with the now broken bottle. The place the bottle is glitches as well for a second it’s a rock then a bottle again. Max barely blocks being stabbed by it. He grabs Samual’s arms and shoved them away. The glitch on Max’s face seems to disappear just where his mouth is, so when Max bites down onto Samuel’s arm it’s visible.

“You stupid bitch!” Samuel’s voice is almost clear. It’s full of venom and there’s a slight glitch, like someone else’s voice says what he said at the same time.]

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

"If we cheated on you, would you kill us," a statement, not a question to be asked. He was demanding. Always.

"I'd kill you, yes", short and bare. The truth was so nice to hear.

"Good, kill us", he mentions it so carelessly as if it wouldn't rip your heart to tears when you rip his skin and scars apart.

"Kill us, my love. Please", always so demanding but you'd do anything for each other wouldn't you?

"Would you tell me?", his breath hitches when you ask. A shake of his head before many.

"No, I mean kill us now- I- please", he's spiraling. Shit shit shit. Erratic while he grabbed your hands, wrapping it around his neck and sobbing when he knew you couldn't. You were weak. You couldn't suffocate him like he wanted.

A knife was better, he'd grab the one in the drawer if you didn't throw it as far as you can.

No words said, nothing would have stopped him if not for you. He'd do so much for you. He doesn't want to live. He doesn't want to walk over and grab the knife.

He hears it clatter. Metal against ceramic where he can guess where it is. It's so close but he's so tired. He crawls back to bed with you. Tears escaping while he just breathes. He'll live for another day. Just another day.

[justaz]

once merlin puts arthur to rest, the world around him disappears and he’s in ealdor staring at his mother’s back. his sobs from the lake grow worse at the sight of his mother and he wails like he’s a child again, calling repeatedly for his ma. she spins around and finds him, without asking any questions she dashes forward and pulls him into a hug, holding his weight as he falls apart in her grasp, choking out nonsensical words and soaking her dress with tears, snot, and drool, his overwhelming grief causing him to ignore any sense of shame he might’ve felt at such a scene.

he doesn’t remember explaining anything to her, frankly he doesn’t remember much beyond the cries he pressed into her shoulder, but she says he’s been in ealdor for a week. she’s clearly worried and asks, no, begs him to eat or drink but he doesn’t feel the need or desire to, and even if he did, he simply doesn’t have the energy to bring the sustenance to his mouth. she cradles his head in her lap and runs her finger through his hair like she did when he had a nightmare when he was younger. it’s almost enough to make the entire thing seem like a horrible, horrible dream. but theres blood on his tunic where he held arthur’s body to his own so he knows it’s not true.

his mother doesn’t ask any questions, the look in her eyes telling him that she knows anyway. perhaps his nonsensical babble created a clear enough image for her to understand. maybe she just saw the broken look in his eyes and came to the conclusion on her own. she doesn’t mention him. merlin isn’t sure if he’s relieved about that or not. in the end, he brings it up, he asks how she was able to go on after balinor left. he asks how she was able to pick herself back up on her own two feet and carry on life as normal after receiving his letter informing her of his passing. she says sometimes she can’t, sometimes she lays in bed and listens to the birds sing and can’t help but hate them. she says she lives on for him anyway. she pushes herself up and makes food and works in the fields even when she hate the world around her.

merlin tries to relate, tries to understand, tries to imagine himself getting up every morning and living on in his name. he can’t. his parents loved each other, he knows that, but they were their own people and were able to stand the years apart. merlin…merlin is arthur’s, even in death. everything he is, everything he’s done, has been for arthur. he is half of merlin’s soul, the center of merlin’s world. how can anyone expect him to move on as if he’s capable of being alone? how can anyone expect him to function as if half of his soul, half of himself, isn’t dead in a lake? merlin can’t do it, he can’t imagine living a life without arthur. he barely got through the week and that’s only because he was passed out for a majority of it. how could he make it a year, much less another fifty?

he can’t. he can’t do it. he can’t breathe, he’s in agony, the world around him doesn’t exist anymore. not without arthur.

he’s back at the lake now, tears still streaming down his face despite the pounding headache from dehydration yet it doesn’t matter, not anymore. none of it does. he stumbles into the lake and sends his magic into the water to tug excalibur from the depths. he can feel freya pulling the sword back, but his magic overpowers hers easily and the sword springs from the lake, gleaming in the afternoon sun. freya’s face appears in the ripples of the water next to him, her expression pleading and sorrowful. merlin whispers an apology before turning back to the sword, staring at the sharp point of the blade. he brings it closer to hover just over his heart, the metal pressing against his skin but not enough to draw blood just yet.

peace washes over him. the sun warms his skin and the water cools him to keep it from being unbearable. the birds sing in the trees as the wind whistles through the leaves. merlin stares up at the brilliant blue sky and pure white clouds roll by, images of bunnies and birds and crowns and horses staring down at him. he wonders if avalon will be this peaceful, if he and arthur could lay out in a field for eternity, basking in the sun and laughing as they point out misshapen clouds that supposedly look like the other.

he plunges the sword into his chest, right through his heart, and falls back into the water. bubbles trail out of his mouth up towards the surface, blood spills from his wound and mixes with the water. he closes his eyes as he sinks further and further. he knows when he opens them, he’ll be with arthur once more. it’ll all be okay. he doesn’t feel his body hit the bottom before blackness fills his mind.

arthur awakens from his fitful slumber in a bed that is not his own. he squints at the room, or rather hut, around him and finds an old man hunched over a book in the corner. arthur tries to speak but all that comes out is a squeak of air, his throat too dry to speak. the man hears and whirls around to begin treating him once more, prattling on and on about how he found arthur in the woods outside his village donning shiny clothes which he discarded bc of the blood staining them yet he couldn’t find a wound. arthur’s hand reaches up to his side but there’s no stab wound there, not anymore, though he does sport the scar. he remembers how he got it, he remembers stumbling away from the battlefield, he remembers being found by merlin- merlin.

he asks the man about him but he seems confused and denies ever knowing someone by that name. arthur climbs out of the bed (the flash of golden eyes) and hastily pulls on his armor (“i’m a sorcerer. i have magic.”). he’s out the door before the old man can protest. he’s in a village he doesn’t recognize, they must not be anywhere near camelot (“i’m still the same person.”). he turns to the old man hobbling out of the hut and demands directs to camelot. the man stares at him oddly and scratches his ear before informing him that he’s never heard of a camelot before (“you’re my friend and i don’t want to lose you.”).

he instead asks for directions to the woods where he was found and sets off in that direction, the old man shuffling after him (“me, i was born to serve you, arthur.”). it doesn’t take long to reach where he was found. if the old man had carried him home it couldn’t’ve been much of a hike (“and i’m proud of that.”). he steps into a clearing where the man panted that he found him here (“and i wouldn’t change a thing.”). it’s no where near the lake where merlin held him as he took his last breath, it’s no where near camelot. the man didn’t even recognize the name of his kingdom (“it’s not why i do it.”).

arthur sits in the grass as he thinks on his next move and the man who watched over him sits next to him (“i’m not going to change now.”). he speaks lowly of a prophecy about a man from a time long forgotten sent on a journey, a quest, to retrieve what has been lost. he says how the prophecy led many to a sword lodged in stone (“i’m not going to lose you.”) but no one could pull it free. he points out arthur’s armor and calls it odd, he mentions camelot, a kingdom of which he’s never heard, and gestures around the clearing where he found the mystery man. he concludes that perhaps the prophecy spoke of him (“i can’t lose him.”).

arthur, with no other options, follows the man’s directions to a lake. not exactly lake avalon but close enough. theres a small island in the center that seems more like a hill. the sword, his sword, excalibur is buried in a stone covered in moss, misshaping it’s actual form. arthur wades across the water and climbs the hill. he wraps his hands around the hilt of excalibur and closes his eyes. he imagines merlin confident and reassuring expression as they and all his men stood in the woods around this damn sword in a different stone however long ago it was. he breathes in and out (“he’s my friend.”) and pulls.

excalibur comes free just as it did before. arthur watches the metal pull free and as it does, the moss on the stone falls away revealing its form. it looks like a collapsed figure, excalibur having been lodged in it’s chest, right where it’s heart would be. arthur squints at what looks like the head and feels a flash of familiarity. the stone slowly fades away from the hole where excalibur was all the way to the hill. as the stone fades, it leaves behind skin and clothes and hair and…merlin.

arthur drops excalibur and falls to his knees to hold up merlin’s limp form. he feels warm, as if he didn’t just spend however long with a sword in his chest as a stone. he’s not breathing. why isn’t he breathing? arthur grasps around, shifting his clothes out of the way to find the wound where excalibur had once been. the skin is stitching itself together with tiny golden threads. arthur looks back up at merlin’s lax face as the wound fully closes. he inhales sharply as his eyes fly open, glowing gold, and all around him it seemed the world finally inhaled after suffocating for millennia.

merlin exhales and golden sparks shoot from his lips to flurry around in the air. the grass under them grows longer and curls around both his and merlin’s body where they rest against the ground. the water around their island clears from the murky brown to a blindingly clear blue. the air is crisp and clean, the sun brighter and warmer, and one soul finally whole again.

[creativename87]

orv spoilers!!!

ok guys. guys. why aren't we spending every single fucking moment of our lives talking about the oldest dream & kim dokja scene?? like hello??? i'm not even talking about when kdj tries to stab himself no no i'm talking about the few, small moment leading up to that, when it's just them, staring at each other.

it's such an gut wrenching powerful scene in my opinion. like like like oh my god. so much has happened. and yet, and yet to them it's still about the same webnovel. kim dokja has aged thirteen years since he was this kid, but as he steps forward they still are both just kim dokja.

They both remember the cold rush of air when they leapt from their school balcony. They both remember the breathless laugh before they did it. They probably both remember the way it reminded them of when they were five, getting thrown into the air by their mother, her face not yet wrinkled with regret. They remember the way it burned as they hit the cold pavement and as blood seeped into the concrete. the way that whole thing was nothing more than a reminder that this time there was no one left to catch them.

They remember the flashes of cameras and they both remember typing three tiny words into the hospital computer.

They are both kim dokja: One is just the past and the other is the future.

They stare at each other when by all definitions they shouldn't be allowed to exist close to other. Kim Dokja hates him, he hates himself and he hates his past. and the oldest dream wishes he were him he wishes he could be someone stronger ,someone better, and that's why our kim dokja exists. They are trapped in this circle of resentment and remorse.

His companions stare, registering the scene in front of them. what this means. and it's this heartbreaking sort of realization that the god they came here to fight is not just a child, but the past of their leader. this world that has bruised them and hurt them and killed those they loved, was caused by one of the ones they loved.

And then the oldest dream( he's just a fifteen-year-old kid. he doesn't even have a drivers license yet. he doesn't know anything in this world except for pain and the rush of joy that comes with another chapter) opens his mouth. He stares at his future. A future he has created for himself. and he whispers, in a slow voice, his face twisting

"M-monster…"

[glucosegaurdian]

I’m absolutely sane about him, it’s fine. No I’m not I’m actually feral right now

I just love having a blorbo and being able to sit back and watch others put him through the Situations™ for me instead of daydreaming them myself :)

A shoutout to my wonderful mutual @cemeteryguy!

[civilight-eterna]

project sekai doing the right thing of immediately removing songs from their game written by a predator in his 30's attempting murder-suicide on his teenage girlfriend

met with a not-unsubstantial amount of cries of "nooo poor Rui losing more songs!!"/"what's gonna happen to my title for getting full combos with that song in it"

shut the fuck up. shut up. shut the ffffffffffuck up. if you think mourning your full combo or the imagined feelings of a fictional character is more important than the girl who was stabbed in the chest in her sleep by her fucking coward of a groomer-actually, if you think it's at all appropriate to bring up given the circumstances, that's. yikes. extend that empathy towards an actual victim please. the band split up immediately and the singer has stated she will never sing those songs again. they are literally stained with the blood of an underage victim.

[cakemadeofbacon]

Im literally never getting over the revolutionary girl Utena finale btw (none of this is properly written):

Anthy trying to kill herself because she betrayed Utena, and then Utena crying and apologizing for betraying her and then Utena choosing to fight for Anthy, despite finding her prince, the thing shes dedicated her life for, and Utena winning but Anyby doesn’t believe in a life where she is happy. She doesn’t remember anything but suffering even with her times with Utena she has the pain of betraying the only person whos truly cared for her so she does the only thing she has ever known and betrays Utena. Because she is a girl. And girls are only princesses or witches. Girls are not princes. You cannot be my prince, Utena, because you are a girl. And despite sustaining a stab wound Utena stands up and walks over to the coffin. She opens it, without winning any stupid duel, without the power of Dios, without a sword. She opens it with her bare hands, with her own blood and sweat and tears. There lay Anthy - all of her. Without the school uniform or the bridal dress or Akio she is there wholly herself. And Utena smiles Himemiya… at last… we meet. And Anthy is scared for her Utena leave! except despite everything Utena reaches out her hand Himemiya and Anthy takes it… despite everything… she takes it.

However, it wasn’t meant to be. Anthy was right about one thing. Utena is not a prince. She isn’t a princess or a witch either. She never was.

And Anthy isn’t a witch or a princess or a bride. She never was.

Anthy never needed saving. She never needed a prince. She is just a girl. She is a human being who needed another human being to see her to love her.

And that was enough.

Reaching out was enough

Utena couldn’t do anything more for her.

Akio doesn’t understand this. So Anthy, finally realizing that she deserves love and that her pain was never eternal, only the thought of it was explains to Akio by all means if you wish to stay in your fake castle playing prince, i won’t stop you, Goodbye.

Anthy leaves. The power was in her all along. She never needed anyone to save her.

The school bells chime signifying the end of a duel and Anthy makes a vow im coming for you, no matter where you are. Wait for me, Utena

She looks straight ahead and walks away from Ohtori. The credits roll. And i cry.

I probably got all those quotes wrong please forgive me 😭

[thehappiestgolucky]

hey girl are you the eternal cycle because the land, skies and seas yearn for you~

i don’t you’re ruining my life please stop

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

h….hi boots

………..have fun with this one for your ask game…

(tw for suicide attempt)

The scream that tears through Donnie’s throat causes him to sit up awake in his bed. He breathes heavily and touches his face. There’s tears there that he quickly wipes away before getting out of bed as quickly as possible. His legs twist in the blankets, causing him to nearly face plant on his bedroom floor.

He catches himself at the last second and races to the dojo. The doors nearly break at the force he opens them with. It’s completely empty when he looks inside, and he does look thoroughly. He looks for even the tiniest hint that someone had been in there.

Only once he is completely certain that there’s nobody, that there’s no blood to be seen, does he manage to take a real breath and leave the area. He closes the door behind him and makes his way to Leo’s room.

Logically he knows he should have went there first, but if what he saw was true then time would have been of the essence.

The door to Leo’s room opens slowly.

His brother is in his bed, blanket mostly off his body. Likely from tossing and turning brought on by insomnia.

Katanas are laying on the side.

Donnie carefully creeps over and picks them up. He thinks he’s successful as he’s about to walk back out of the door.

“Donnieeee?

“….Yesss?”

“Where are you going with those?”

“….Away.”

“Come back.”

Donnie thinks for a second about just leaving anyways but Leo would chase him and running with katanas is as dumb as it sounds. He sighs and slowly turns around, walking back to the bed.

Leo holds his hand out as he sits up.

Donnie can’t give them to him.

He can’t.

“Or you could just put them down.”

Donnie stares right at Leo as he slides the katanas as far under the bed as possible.

“Okay. Twin talk time. Get over here.” Leo grabs the soft shell and pulls him into the bed.

Donnie surprises him when he doesn’t resist in the slightest and even wraps his arms right around his brother.

“Was there nightmare that bad?” Leo hugs him just as tight.

“I never said-”

“Oh don’t even try to hide it. Just tell me.”

“……Can you show me your wrists?”

Leo is so heavily confused but let’s go of Donnie to show him both.

“Why??”

Donnie breathes a sigh of relief.

“Leo, as much as you duck and weave any actual emotional talks, please just consider my words right now.”

“Okay….?”

“…..Please don’t leave me. I care about you. I love you. You’re my brother and need you, so please-”

Leo goes back to hugging him tightly.

“I never would, are you kidding me? We’re twins. Someone has to keep you from going lethal.”

Donnie presses his face into Leo’s plastron.

No injuries.

No cracks.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong? As in, really wrong?”

“First person I’d go to. Always.”

“…..I can’t go back to sleep.”

“Yeah, me either. Steal Mikey and lay in Raph’s bed?”

Donnie nods.

They leave the bed together and carefully kidnap Mikey for the time being. The two crawl into Raph’s bed. Their oldest brother wraps around all of them and churrs.

Leo carefully takes Donnie’s hand into his own.

“Still here.”

Donnie squeezes it.

“Good.”

@theplacewhereidumpmyinterests

[chill-vibes-but-rainbow-panic]

Finally posted another Fanfiction, lads o7 Cult of the Lamb, my beloved <3

This one has been in the works for A While -_-'

(Lots of the violence is only talked about in the fic, but as always, do read the tags)

[plasmaapologist]

( It wasn't hard to find Colress' lab, really. It was basically the only room in this area left that still had a roof. And the only one with a door. Very subtle, Colgate. Tula took a deep breath, looking at her hand on the door knob; she was shaking like crazy. She bites her lip and opens the door. )

( The lab was... cozy. If you're into mad scientist labs, that is. There was at least something soothing about the soft hum of machinery, but the mega sized test tubes and screaming server towers were ominous at best. Colress stood at the other end of the room, back to the door, furiously typing something into what appears to be a modified laptop. )

"Colress."

( Clearly startled, the scientist shoots up straight before slowly turning twoards the door. For a split second, there's a look of concern on his face until he sees his visitor, and a shit-eating grin replaces it. )

"Oh, my. Now that's a face I haven't seen in a while."

( He throws his arms in the air as if greeting an old friend. There's a decently sized bruise on his hand, and maybe it's just the lab lighting, but he seems a bit paler than usual. )

"Oh dear, you seem confused. We didn't know each other long, but I never forget a name, Miss Gagnon."

( Tula winced, ever so slightly. It's clear that she wasn't a fan of him calling her that. Right hand firmly on her sword, she slowly approaches her former co-worker. )

"Listen here, Cockless, you can drop the act. I want to talk with you. The actual you, not your smarmy little soyboy front, understand?"

( Colress frowns, but in a dramatic, exaggerated fashion. He sighs, twirling a pen in his left hand. )

"My! I know we have our differences, but I expected a far warmer welcome from a nurse! Can't you see I'm beaten and bruised here?"

"Please."

( He scowls, much more genuinely this time. )

"...Say your piece."

"You're a fucking genius, Colress. Plasma, I understand. Ghetsis was filthy rich and throwing money at you. But, this..." ( She gestures at the door ) "Why this? What's the point? What's the end goal? Are you, like, trying to make the ultimate Pokésona costume or some shit?"

( The tall man shook his head, laughing, his plasticine smile returning. )

"I should have expected that you wouldn't understand. It seems that no one here comprehends my vision. Sad, is it not?"

( He shakes his head again, genuinely upset at this revelation. Was he really just now figuring that out...? )

"Call me a skeptic, but I have a gnawing sensation you're not interested in actually hearing me out. A shame, truly. I'm sure my subject would love having such a close friend around."

"I have no interest in helping yo-"

"Tragic. You know, I simply do what must be done. And this must be done."

( He grabs a Pokéball, and with a flash and the grinding of metal, his Klinklang appears between the two Ex-Plasma members. The male lifted his arm, pointing toward his counterpart. )

"Klinklang. Giga Impact."

( From that point, everything happens in a blur. Seconds feel like minutes. Klinklang is slow, slow enough for Tula to just barely sidestep it, taking only a cut to the leg. Painful, but not debilitating. Not with that level of adrenaline. )

"Motherfucker-"

( In a flash, Tula unsheaths her sword. It would be easy, a single lunge, right through the heart. It would be a kill shot. It's just self-defense... but damnit, she didn't go to high school, and it seems she forgot what inertia is. )

( Tula launches herself the scientist, but she stumbles, knocking them both to the ground, the momentum pushing her blade straight through Colress' shoulder. He shouts, though whether it's from the fall or the pain is unclear; the Masterball on his waist shatters under the weight of two adults. Somehow, she removes her sword, preparing to hit the kill shot, and all either of them can see is... prussian blue? )

"Dreaaaaa~"

( The previously hidden Misdreavus flys out from between the two brawlers, eyes glowing, speaking words that neither of them can understand. For a second, theres a sense of neutrality, as they make eye contact, as if confirming that the other is also seeing this shit. But Colress recovers first; and with six inches more than his foe, he easily leverages his height to throw her off. Tula just seems stunned, perhaps by the ghost, perhaps by the weight of what she did. )

( Colress stands, panting, gripping his bleeding shoulder. His left arm now hanging limp and useless to his side, he manages to reach over to his desk, smashing a large button. )

"Hah... Wonderful reflexes you've got... I'd love to study that, but... It seems it's time for me to... clock out. Eugh..."

( The machine behind them screams to life, a bright, swirling portal - no, a wormhole, appearing between the beams. The sound drowns out another; Rune busting down the door, presumably having heard Magic's cry. )

"The fuck's going on in hereeeee.....? That ain't good.

"Ha....! A visitor....! Perhaps you cou-"

( SCHICK! A knife flies past, grazing the injured man's leg. Rune groans.)

"Fuck. Whiffed it."

( He smiles weakly, but there's fear in his eyes. Real, palpable fear. Is he crying a bit? Is it frustration or pain? Who knows! )

"It seems... I am no longer welcome in... my own lab. Farewell."

( Moments before it closes, he stumbles through the wormhole to Arc knows where? leaving no time for chase. And then, silence. Terrifying silence. Rune turns, now looking at Tula, pathetically sprawled on her ass, blood splattered across her face, obviously still in shock. She only manages a single word. )

"Arcfuckingdamnit."

[stillebesat]

"He just wanted to fly" for the WIP ask game? thanks for the tag! ^.^

You're welcome!! ^^;;

"He just wanted to fly" is a Soulmate AU with Janus/Roman/Virgil where when you meet your soulmate you grow wings.

This was a fic I started back in 2020 and I ended up struggling with how exactly I wanted the story to go (where to start it) and had no idea where I would end it sooo it just kinda fizzled out. Though I look at it from time to time wondering if I could get the concept to a 'finished' point. ^^;;

Snippet from the wip:

Janus just wanted to fly.

For as long as he could remember, that had been his dream. 

Since he’d seen his first feather. Seen his first wing. Seen the first person flying in the sky overhead as he hid out in the tallest tree he could find in his backyard so that he wouldn’t be punished for crying over the cut on his finger still dripping blood.

He just wanted to fly.

To feel that constant comforting weight on his back. Feel those extra limbs curling around him like a huge fluffy blanket, hiding him from the world or taking him up and up out of range of all the hurt and hatred and lies he had to face every day.

He’d cried the day he found out he couldn’t get wings until he met his soulmate. 

That they couldn’t appear until you and the name that appeared on your wrist on your fifteenth birthday shared---well. Janus had never gotten what that shared ‘thing’ was. Everyone was just expected to know. 

He strongly suspected it was a kiss. Because he never saw his parents kiss and they didn’t have wings. But perhaps it was some other sort of touch. Like holding hands. Or stroking the other person’s cheek, or booping their nose. He’d seen plenty of winged people doing those things along with kissing.

Janus let out a slow breath, the only action that he would allow himself to take to express his--his--nerves as he took his spot on the set of a half destroyed city street, his bare fingers twitching with the urge to brush the scars that marred the names on his wrist and moved up his arm to his face.

Yes names. 

Plural.

Because he had to be the broken one. The cursed one who got two names instead of one on his fifteenth birthday to make his journey to obtaining wings to fly just that much harder. 

It was like the universe had heard the cry of his heart out for flight and promptly said “NO.”

Why else would he have a family that treated him worse than a dog because he’d been born with the ‘devil’s eyes’ where one iris was a bright malevolent yellow while the other was a cold icy blue.

Why else would the universe allow his higher than a kite poor excuses for parents to beat him every time they decided whatever he was doing was the wrong thing to do. 

Why else would the universe allow his so called parents to snap one night a week before his fifteenth birthday and stab and slice him forty-six times before the neighbor broke down the door and saved his life. 

Why else would the universe then decide to have his soulmate’s names appear on that same LEFT WRIST that was so cut up and scarred that doctors had worried he’d never be able to use it again instead of in the traditional spot on the right wrist?

It was simple. 

He was never meant to fly.

He would never get his long dreamt for wings.

No. All he’d been left with on his fifteenth birthday, had been the faint lettering of the two people he could have connected with. The soft lilac of R-il. The pale rose of O-an. 

[serickswrites]

Distress

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, stabbing, blood, physical violence, escape attempt, drugging

Something was different, Whumpee could feel it. They weren’t as hazy as Whumper had been keeping them. Whumpee was still bound, but at their wrists and ankles. And not to anything. 

“I’ve got something new and exciting for our agenda today, Whumpee,” Whumper purred as they walked into the room. “I think you will like it.”

“Th-Th-Thank you,” Whumpee whispered back. If I can just keep them happy, maybe they won’t hurt me. 

“I stopped some of the medicine so you could fully enjoy this.” Whumper carded their fingers through Whumpee’s hair. And then Whumper stabbed Whumpee. Once. twice. Five times in their gut all spread out. Whumpee screamed, the pain clearer than any other Whumper had inflicted on them. They could feel the blood running out of them. 

“Don’t worry,” Whumper smiled as they put a bloodied hand to Whumpee’s cheek, stroking it gently, “this won’t kill you.” They held up the blade. “It will leave some beautiful scars. But it won’t kill you. I won’t let you die, Whumpee.”

“Th-Th-Thank you,” Whumpee managed to get out between sobs. “I know how important it is for m-m-me to be beau-beautiful for you.” Keep them happy. Keep them happy. They won’t guess my plan. Keep them happy. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up then.” Whumper cut away the bindings on Whumpee’s legs. Whumpee could feel the blood pool beneath them. They felt nauseous. “Let’s see if you can stand.” They lifted Whumpee to their feet. 

Whumpee’s knees buckled and they leaned on Whumper. “I-I-I can’t.” 

Whumper scooped Whumpee into their arms. “I do love holding you close, Whumpee.”

Whumpee took a deep breath and headbutted Whumper while grabbing the knife with their bound hands. Whumper dropped Whumpee with a cry and stumbled back. Whumpee’s aching body protested as they landed in a heap on the ground, but they were ready. They plunged the knife into Whumper’s ankle. Whumper howled as Whumpee kicked out at Whumper’s opposite knee, hearing the distinct and satisfying crunch as Whumper dropped. Whumpee glanced around the room, looking for the other restraints Whumper used on them and found the restraints. They cuffed both of Whumper’s wrists to the bed. Whumper was screaming, raging, a wild beast roaring at Whumpee. But Whumpee couldn’t hear them. 

Whumpee found Whumper’s phone and called Caretaker. “C-C-Caretaker?” Whumpee tried not to cry when they heard Caretaker answer the phone. 

“Whumpee? Where are you? I’ve been looking everywhere for you. It’s been weeks. Whumpee?” Caretaker sounded terrified. 

“I-I-I don’t know where I am,” Whumpee sobbed. Please. Please find me. I need you. Help, please. “I th-th-think I’m at Whumper’s h-h-h-house.”

“I’ll find you. Don’t worry. I’m coming. Just stay on the line with me, please, Whumpee.”

Whumpee sighed as they slid down to the floor, absolutely spent. “Th-Thank you.” Whumpee’s body was finally letting go, adrenaline fueled state finally ending. Whumpee pressed a hand to their abdomen, unable to determine which stab wound was deeper. They could barely hear Caretaker. 

“Whumpee?” Caretaker’s voice was a little firmer.

“I-I-I n-n-need an amb-ambulance I-I-I thinkkkk.” Whumpee could feel themself sliding further down, sinking further into the dark that was threatening to consume them. Stay awake. I have to stay awake. I’m dying. No. No, I’m not going to die. Caretaker is coming. Stay awake. 

“Whumpee, stay with me. Please! I’m coming. Just hold on!” Caretaker begged Whumpee. 

“Whumpee! Whumpee!” Whumper was roaring in the background. “Caretaker won’t make it in time. Let me help you! Whumpee!”

But Whumpee could barely hear Caretaker and Whumper. The darkness’s call had become to strong to resist. As they sunk into the dark, they hoped that Caretaker wouldn’t be mad at them for not staying. For not being able to wait. 

“Whumpee, please say something, anything,” Caretaker begged. 

“S’ry,” Whumpee mumbled as the dark finally consumed them. 

[antiqsvchoticarchive]

@carp3diems liked for a starter from hae kim

hae  was  overwhelmed  in  the  crowd,  but  she  was  desperate.  pushing  through  until  she  eventually  got  to  the  front.  spotting  the  rockstar  that  she  has  never  met  in  her  life.  her  visions  were  coming  fast  and  as  if  in  a  flash,  she  cried  out,  "look  out!"  without  hesitation,  she  pushed  the  star  out  of  the  way  only  for  her  to  be  stapped  by  the  shifter  that  would  appear  in  her  vision. 

with  the  shifter  being  upset,  they  quickly  vanished  as  she  laid  there  while  the  crowd  screamed  in  a  panic  and  ran  all  over  the  place  while  the  security  tried  to  usher  jace  away  from  the  scene  to  protect  him from further threats.

[thisismycorneroftheinternet]

Boy do I hope Trump's failed assassination attempt doesn't boost his popularity on the polls and leads him to the office like a certain Bozo of Latin America.

[nightfallsystem]

hmm.. yeah im scared christmas/new years will be the death of me . /srs