#better yet is when I try to get myself killed because suicide isn't good enough.... great reasoning (disappointed)

[anarcho-masochist]

Okay, I thought this was universal but maybe my last three therapists were right that it is not:

Is it normal for boredom to be truly unbearable?

As in, worse than anything else, would rather get eviscerated while fully conscious, will do anything to escape it which might actually include suicide if no satisfactory options are available?

#it's bad #and no it's not 'when you aren't distracted you're forced to experience existing pain' #I'm not generally suicidal. There are a lot of things I enjoy and want to do. I have plenty of problems but I tend not to care about them. #I do have things to do. Usually even if I don't want to do anything I can entertain myself since I can't switch my brain off anyways. #Literally infinite things to think about #The problem is when none of it feels interesting or exciting enough. Which doesn't make any sense at all. #If I'm unbearably bored and a friend makes the mistake of talking to me I get really toxic. It is a problem. #Usually I have great self control when it comes to destructive or toxic behaviors but not so when I want to end it all because nothing is #interesting enough. #It's like 'if I do something really extreme I'll stop because bored' #Bad things happen... #Or I try to overdose or slit my wrists #better yet is when I try to get myself killed because suicide isn't good enough.... great reasoning (disappointed) #I met three of my ex boyfriends that way #Note to self to stop fucking men i get in knife fights with PLEASE #it is ALWAYS a bad idea. Has never turned out well. #Invariably they always either have anger management/impulse control issues or they're just arrogant jerks who want to be tougher than you #sometimes both #Man really rambling in the tags here. Should probably delete that. Oh well. POST

[merge-conflict]

thinking about Goro ever leaving Arasaka is such a fun but heartbreaking thing to think about because like– what would truly make him leave? what would destroy his faith and his loyalty so utterly that he'd walk away from his identity? because it's not just a job, being a soldier is who he is, and he's specifically an Arasaka soldier. when he expresses any doubt about the life he's had or what he really wants it's always with an air of inevitability that Arasaka will exist and continue to exist. what's the alternative? he asks V, because he truly doesn't believe there can be one. he can't believe it, or if he does he has to believe it's not worth the cost, because otherwise what has his life been in service of?

but while he's stubborn and loyal, he isn't stupid. he'll deflect v or get angry when they dismiss corporations entirely not because he thinks they're shining forces of good but because he sees fighting against them as naivety. the world is hard, but that's how it is, and fighting against it will only cause more suffering.

and yet. and yet. he is blind in a particular way, that I think comes from his success and the reward for his hard work. certainly there are plenty of people like him, who were smart and worked hard and came from nothing but were never rewarded for that because they didn't do it in quite the right way, or they weren't liked, or they were simply one among hundreds and thousands, just a number on a spreadsheet– they were never someone noticed personally by Saburo Arasaka. he's absolutely conditioned to believe that the system works because it worked for him.

so to come back around to the question– what could shake his faith in that so entirely that he can start to see the lie he's pledged himself to? that this empire, this corporation is truly no better than any other, and is just as disgustingly hypocritical and pathetic when threatened as any other power?

I can see a lot of possible answers to the question, and though I'm a romantic I can't say the answer is just love– he could deny himself that, I'm sure, and any personal sort of happiness. he could tell himself anyone he loved deserves someone who can give their full attention (and how could he ever give Arasaka less than everything he has? even for his suicidal revenge he means it as a warning, a rallying cry, for Arasaka to save itself from those who would destroy it).

but! the thing about corporations is that they will tell you the rules, and their ideals, and they will enforce them. and you at some point will become a representative of that corp and make promises according to those ideals, and the corp will make a liar of you. whatever trust you've built, whatever standards you hold yourself to in order to maintain your reputation? meaningless. and that more than anything is something I think that Goro would be unable to accept, that something that was his responsibility and his promise was broken without remorse or even consultation. perhaps he could counsel himself through that doubt, and remain in the fold, but it would be one of those moments where he is truly vulnerable to break away, and certainly a reason to shake his faith.

even then– even then I don't think he could see it all at once. he's in too deep, and he wants to believe that Arasaka can work so badly, that he's blind to the reality of its existence. so even if he does break free, then what? and I think the answer to that is that he will always want to believe that if juuust a few things were fixed Arasaka would be on the right path, or would be redeemed.

and that deprogramming will take forever to undo, if he ever lived long enough to try it.

anyway I started writing this post because I'm writing that initial break from his pov where he's struggling with it and internally he's just thinking: Maybe if I kill myself righting this wrong Saburo will understand and Arasaka will go back to being something I can feel proud of! and I want to chew through the drywall why doesn't he get it (I know why)

#goro takemura #this is a VERY long ramble under the cut please be warned #the one question every goromancer must ask: what about his obligation? #you can take the soldier out of Arasaka but you just can't take the Arasaka out of the soldier #anyway not to make another parallel between him and Johnny but they are both Believing so hard it gives them brain worms

[cherrycola27]

Last Hurrah

Warnings: GUYS this is a heavy fic. I'm serious Minors DNI, 18+. Language, drinking. Mentions of head injury. Trigger Warning! Suicidal thoughts and actions

Pairing Rooster x Reader (Call Sign Juliet)

...................................................................................................

Part 1: In fair Fightertown where we lay our scene

For most people, when their life comes crashing down, they never saw it coming. They are the lucky ones. But for me, the whole thing played out infront of me in a series of scenes straight out a Shakespearean tragedy. How ironic really.

The first act came when watched my fiancée Rooster Bradshaw eject from his plane before it crashed into the side of a mountain.

The second came with the news that he had a head injury.

And the third, the final nail in my coffin, the dagger through the heart, was that when he woke up, he had no memory of who I was or our relationship over the past eighteen months. How very Nicholas Sparks.

All that happened six months and seventeen days ago. And for those six months and seventeen days, I, as well as every other member of the Dagger Squad family had been desperately trying to get him to remember me, to remember us, to remember the love we had, but nothing worked.

About a month ago I realized that there was little chance of Rooster ever remembering who I was, so I started making calls.

Do you know what it's like to have to explain to a baker, a venue owner, a photographer, a wedding coordinator, as well as sixty of you closest friends and family that you had to cancel your wedding because partner doesn't remember who you are? Because I do, and let me tell you, it sucks.

What might be worse is that for the past six months and seventeen days I have spent every night, crying myself to sleep, alone in the bed that we once shared.

For the past half a year I've felt as if I'm watching my life go by in slow motion. The world is moving forward without me. Rooster has gotten better for the most part, but he still doesn't know who I am. It kills me to see him happy, smiling, laughing, living without me.

And every time I see a girl flirt with him, the knife pushes futher into my chest. It isn't fair. I should be happy for him, happy that he is alive. But I'm not. Maybe it's horrible of me to think that way, but it's cruel that he is living carefree and smiling, while I'm a shell of the woman I once was.

Everyone has tried to help, but they know it's useless. Rooster and I are... friends... at best. But how can you be just friends with the person who six months ago promised you forever.

He is the one who almost died, yet I'm the one who did.

I'm not really living anymore, I'm just going through the motions. I get up, go to work, fly my plane, get a drink at the Hard Deck, go home, cry myself to sleep, and do it all again the next day.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. Rooster was the Romeo to my Juliet... a running joke with my call sign after we started dating.

Maybe it's karma for having Juliet as a call sign or maybe God has a sick sense of humor. Either way... I'm starting to think she was right... if you can't have the person you love in your life, is it really worth living?

"Hi there." A male voice snaps me out of my spiral. "You're Juliet right? I'm Dodger. I've seen you here a couple times, and I noticed you're glass is empty. Can I get you another drink?" He asks. I look him over. Dodger, I've seen him a few times. He is a bit younger than me and I probably out rank him. He is bad to look at, but he isn't Rooster. He hasn't been around long enough to know our history, and it's not like I wore your engagement ring anymore.

It felt wrong having a man give you attention, but Rooster got plenty from the girls...

I spent about an hour talking to Dodger. He flirted with me relentlessly, and honestly it felt good to have someone pay me attention, then before I even realized it, I had invited him home.

I made it as far as the couch before I stopped him. It felt wrong to let another man touch me, kiss me, let alone try to fuck me on the very couch Rooster had taken meu many times.

I mentally kicked myself that night after he left. I wasn't doing anything wrong— or was I? Everything seemed so unclear. I hadn't slept with anyone since Rooster's accident, I wondered if he had.

As the days drug on you found yourself slipping away more. You were short, angry, mean, bitter to those around you. You spent your days going through the motions and your nights crying or drinking away the pain.

And then, one Wednesday morning for no reason in particular the perfect plan hit you. That morning, you were asked to come in Friday night for some test flights. And that's when the realization hit you.

You were much happier the rest of the day. Thursday you smiled for the first time in ages, and we Friday came around, you were more than excited to go out.

Everyone commented how you seemed like your old self again.

You had a couple drinks at the Hard Deck but not too many because you did have to fly later that evening. You sang karaoke with Phoenix, danced without a care in the world, and even beat Hangman in a game of darts.

After a while you got hot and decided to step out on the deck for some air. You smiled knowing your friends would have a happy moment to remember you by.

You must have been out there longer than you thought because Jake came to check on you.

"Hey Jules, you okay?" He asked.

"I'm great Jake. You know I've been so lucky to have had you and everyone as friends. Rooster has been too. Make sure you watch out for him for me." You smiled as you hugged him.

"Well, I'm off to do a test flight. Goodbye Jake." You smiled with a tear in your eye.

You said your goodbyes to everyone else, save for Rooster. It hurt too much. Then you made your way to your car. You looked back at the Hard Deck one final time before putting it in gear and driving away.

You were gone for maybe five minutes before the wheels turned in Jake's head. He quickly found Phoenix. "Nat, I know I sound crazy but I think Juliet is going to hurt herself." He told her.

"What do you mean? She was fine when she left." Nat looked confused.

"That's the thing. She was a mess two days ago then all of a sudden she flips. They say that happens a lot when people decide to— and when were on deck she said she was lucky to have had us as friends and she asked me to watch out for Rooster for her. I know I sound crazy but Nat, I'm worried about her... she's supposed to do some test flying tonight... what if she..." Jake trailed off.

"You don't think she would? Do you?" Phoenix asked stunned.

"Phoenix her whole life fell apart. The person she is in love with doesn't know who she is. That's enough go make even the most sane person do something crazy." Jake said.

"Oh my God we have to do something." Phoenix said.

She and Jake quickly gathered everyone and explained the situation. Jake desperately tried to literally smack the memories back into Rooster with no success. Leaving them no other options the crew piled into the Bronco and Coyote's Jeep and raced to the air field.

Juliet took her time with her preflight checks, if it was going to be her last, she wanted to savor it.

Once she deemed everything perfect she placed her helmet on her head and climbed in the cockpit ready for take off.

"Mav you have to stop the training Juliet is going to hurt herself or worse!" Bob screamed into the phone while Jake drove. Phoenix was still trying to explain to Rooster what was going on but he was clueless.

There is no telling how many traffic laws Jake broke as he drove, but he didn't care.

Without warning, he hit a pot whole and a photo fell from the visor into Rooster's lap, and like lightning, every came back to him.

"Jake, where's Juliet, and why are you driving my car?" He asked.

"You know who Juliet is?" Phoenix asked leaning forward.

"Yes why wouldn't I?" Rooster asked. There was a collective sigh of relief, but then panic set in. Phoenix and Bob explained to him what happened and Rooster was in a panic.

Minutes later they pulled into base and jumped from the car, running to range control.

Mav had informed them that he couldn't get ahold of them. It was a race against the clock.

Juliet took a deep breath as she flew, she admired the sunset over the mountain peaks.

She took in the beautiful colors all around her, up here her problems seemed so small. She looked on her dash at the photo of her and Rooster. She grabbed her chain that held her dog tags and her engagement ring. She gripped them tight in her hand as she pulled the nose of her plane into a steep climb. Her goal was to send herself into GLOC so she wouldn't feel any pain.

She ignored the calls of the range control officers telling her to level out. She didn't hear the sounds of her friends bursting in the room yelling for her.

She tried to keep her breath even as she felt the g-forces pressing on her body, and then right before the blackness took over, she heard Rooster's voice calling out to her.

"JULIET!" He screamed over the comms. "Juliet, it's me Rooster, it's Bradley, please come in." He and the other range officers desperately tried to reach her, but there was no response.

The group looked out the tower window to see if the could spot her in the fleeting evening light.

They looked out just in time to see the ball of fire erupt from her plane as it collided with the side of the mountain.

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme

Let me know if you want to be tagged in any other parts

#top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #lt. bradley bradshaw #top gun rooster #tgm fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader

[caffeinatedopossum]

Tw suicide

A rant about being "suicidal" for 8 years

Why is suicidal in quotation marks? Let's ask the voice in my head.

(Enter voice) voice: "no one is *really* suicidal for that long. If you really wanted to do it, you would have by now"

Challenger: "but I tried!"

Voice: "when? 6 years ago? You can't keep saying you want to die when you don't"

And so I don't say it. As much as I can, I try not to say it because I feel like a liar.

And when I do say it, I get the same responses. People talk to me as if I'm just having a bad day. They say it'll get better. They say it's not permanent. But what they don't understand is that I haven't outlived this yet. I needed it to get better 8 years ago, and it hasn't yet - sure, I've had good days. I've probably had the sum of a few months' worth of good days where I didn't want to die in the span of the last 8 years. And I still appreciate the sentiments of every person who loves me and wants me here, but I have to say that I'm afraid you're making a mistake.

With my thoughts, with my feelings, I'm spitting in your face. Telling you that all your love and wanting is not enough. It just isn't. And I wish I could tell you it was. I wish that it was, that I could make it work.

But I'm not suicidal. I'm not going to kill myself. I would have done so already if I truly wanted to- so says the voice in my head at least. So you have nothing to fear- except maybe you do. Because I'm always wishing that I really wanted to. And I'm sorry beyond words. I'm sorry that there's nothing you can say or do.

I've been on both sides of this conversation, felt the helplessness from both ends. And it hurts like hell.

[thediaryofs0nic]

I have a problem... well... several. I'd say I needed professional help but no thats not it even. I need to go back in time and be taught proper self control as a young kid, I need to be loved by my father, and I need to be taught not to resort to anger in frustration. I dont think people can be perfect but I do think they can be better. I know my mother tried her damndest to be the best mother she could and she achieved it in my eyes. My father on the other hand, to his admittance, was a manipulative, avoidant, asshole who didnt care to watch his mouth or behavior. He thought he was worthy of attempting to control my view on him and the world and he thinks he's succeeded. He is so lost on his narcissistic, egotistical, high horse that he can't see how he's harmed people. He can not see that he is the problem and refuses to feel any important emotions. He suppresses the important ones and expresses the rest in anger. Boys don't cry or at least they do in private because crying is shameful and a sign of weakness. Two genders but you can be whatever you want. I love you yet I'll call you a clown when you finally seem happy. You're brilliant and important but you're not trying hard enough. I've watched you scare away countless people and the only ones you still have are internet trolls or people that need to be around you why tf do you think you don't have friends. My cousin hangs out with you because he likes laughing at your shit takes plus its not like your moral "lessons" are getting through to him he literally has 4 kids all to different women. He isn't too bright.

My parents have also lost themselves into their political ideologies. My mother thinks Ben Shapiro is brilliant and my father wishes death on all Democrats. From the blatant sexism to the upfront racism (all from father) I don't feel safe around him all the time. There are times I remember being in fear of my father drinking a little too much and attempting to kill me. There are times where my father has inadvertently called me useless and said my life wasn't worth anything. ((Context: He said suicidal people/people who commit suicide don't care about anyone and shouldn't have been born to begin with)I was in therapy for my depression and had been sh for a few months at that point) Really racking up the great father points there. When I said I wanted a nose ring he angerly asked if I wanted to be a cow (I just thought they looked cool and I got one the second I turned 18). I was fighting with him about something at the dinner table (I was summoned even when I didn't want to eat with them) and got into a fight over whatever with him and then he interrupted me and started talking to my mother who was crying (because of him) and I responded (because he was only gonna make her feel worse) he didn't let me finish and in a cross, angry, pointed tone through clenched teeth said "not everything is about you" LIKE A FUCKING 4TH GRADER. It made me highly angry so I went up to my room and fumed in my notes app so I could tell my therapist. I hate my father. He also mentioned to me that he wondered what id be like if they didn't give me all the hormones in the milk because he thinks I act the way that I do (feminine and like men) because of the food. He genuinely thought that was a good talking point with me, the queer in the household, his only child, the one person with mental health and identity issues in this house... GO FUCK YOURSELF. God fucking damn it I don't like him at all. He implied my existence wasn't valid or real, that I am not the person I couldve been. I DONT GIVE ANY FUCKING SHITS WHAT I "cOuLDvE BeEn" YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS APPROPRIATE. GO. FUCK. YOUR. SELF. He also told me genderfluid wasn't real for no reason when I had literally thought of going by that. The thing is I NEVER mentioned that anywhere near him, when I said the word and that it made me comfortable to my friends I wasn't even on the same floor level. He wants me to kill myself at this point. I could probably think of more but im too angry now and it's 3 am so maybe ill stop.

(My mother rarely defended me when she was the only one I was comfortable talking to so she knew how I must've felt hearing a lot of those things)

Tldr: I hate my father

Overall conclusion: He will never enter my living space once I move out of this bitch.

[oligbia]

Guardian Angel

Izuku Midoriya X Guardian angel reader

Edit 7/22/21: This was previously for an event with a user I no longer would like to be associated with. I will be keeping this up because it is my work and I own it, but I am no longer associating myself with that event host

spoiler warnings: Recent manga spoilers starting from around volume 26-present events, essentially the war arc and current events.

massive trigger warnings: Death, Intrusive thoughts, suicidal thoughts. If you are struggling with these, please seek help. Your life is valuable and precious, and there are so many amazing things worth seeing in this world, I promise.

Life is very short. So short, in fact, that we rarely appreciate it while we have it. We get over 70 years of life, if we're lucky, and most of it isn't appreciated.

Izuku Midoriya knows better than anyone else in this world how precious a life is. He knows how important it is to make every moment count, to soak up every drop of emotion life has to offer. He only knows this in hindsight, of course. Because he had only 2 years with you before you died. And he didn't appreciate those 730 and some days enough.

You died because of him in some twisted away. There isn't a day he doesn't think about that. It plagues his mind in a twisted series of ideas. There was no real way he could have saved you, but he could have tried. If he could have traded your life for his, he would have in a heartbeat. You were all that was good in this world, all Midoriya did was cause problems.

If he was still at UA, he would do his morning jog to your grave to pay respects and eat breakfast with you like he used to. It was comforting, to think your spirit would be eating with him. He just missed you, really.

He just really missed you.

Of course, now nothing is normal. He isn't at UA. You would have chewed him out for dropping out. But, it was his fault you died so none of that mattered. It was his fault you and all of the class were in danger. Loosing you was the last straw. Loosing you was the thing that made Izuku Midoriya, the supposed "next number 1" become a run away hero. A vigilante. The kind of person society spits on. The kind of person you and him were supposed to protect everyone from. But, if he couldn't protect you, how could he protect anyone. He wasn't a hero, he was never supposed to be a hero anyways. He didn't deserve this fucking quirk anyways, not if he couldn't use it to save you.

He thought, maybe, just maybe, there was a way to fix it. Because, it was his fault you were dead, and you died because of the war started by All For One, and he is the one All For One is after in the end, so if he could kill All For One then he could fix it, and you could die in peace, and then all is well, he wouldn't be some stupid waste of a quirk.

But here he was, laying half dead in a street. He couldn't do it. He couldn't take down All For One. His eyes flickered shut, his body slipping in and out of consciousness. Parts of his life played over in his mind. He remembered the first time he saw All Might, playing with Kachan, when he received One for All, when he met you. God, that was comforting. There were so many good memories with you. The night you kissed him, the time you wore matching pajamas with him and his mom to watch an All Might documentary, the time you both fell asleep together in his dorm- the time he held your bleeding body as you took your final breaths, the time Iida had you pull him off your body because there was no time to grieve. There had never been time to grieve. He never would move on. Midoriya would always be stuck in denial. He would die here, never fulfilling his goal, never finding peace with your death.

And then it was white. He felt alive though, like he was in a white room. He looked around, wiggling his fingers in front of his eyes. He must have died, because this wasn't where he just was.

"You didn't die, 'zuku."

His head jolted up, knowing your voice anywhere. There you were in front of him, dressed beautifully in white.

"You just are stuck right now. But you didn't die."

"Its really you?" Midoriya scrambled to his feet, trying to run to you, but he couldn't move.

"I'm me, but I'm not real. I'm sorry."

"I miss you." tears brimmed in Midoriya's eyes. He always wondered what it would be like to see you again, what he would say. He had a whole monologue in his imagination, but in the moment he was speechless.

You smiled that same soft smile, the one that radiated more warmth than the sun could ever dream. "I miss you too, Izuku. We'll be together someday."

"Now. I want to be together now. Y/N, I can't stand living without you. I-I dont know what I'm doing anymore!"

You held his face in your hand. Your hands made his face feel warm, but you felt like nothing more than a warm breeze. "It's not your time yet. You'll find a reason to keep going without me."

Tears poured from his eyes, wetting his cheeks. "No, no, I want to die. I can't live anymore. There's no point in it. You aren't there and I'm never going to be a hero-"

"Shh, hush with all that." You brushed tears from his face. "You can't die, 'Zuku. I won't let you."

You leaned in closer to him, whispering into his ear. "I'm your guardian angel Izuku. I'm always with you, okay?"

Midoriya gasped for air, looking for the right words but falling short. You were his angel, his precious and beautiful angel.

"Keep on living, keep on saving people, okay?" You pulled back, looking into his eyes. He smiled, brushing past the last of his tears.

He nodded, "I promise."

The white walls around him started to fade, turning darker. Your glow started to dim. Midoriya grabbed at you hand in some attempt to pull you back, even if he knew it wasn't possible.

He called out your name one last time before it was black again, and he was back in a life without you. But now, he had a reason to keep going.

#oligbia original #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya angst #izuku midoriya fic #izuku midoriya x reader angst #izuku midoriya x you #[☁] SENT FROM ABOVE

[monstersqueen]

Wooden overcoats !!! S01E02 - Flowers for Chapman

2 things to say :

one, chapman started it;

two, ah, piffling vale. the bloodthirsty mob.

We’re working ourselves ragged trying to scrape together enough to pay those instalments on the new kettle

... i don't know if it's a commentary on the price of kettle or indication that even this early on the funns were already broke.

anyway i understand why customer would rather go to the one who doesn't scream bloody murder when you ask for a buffet.

ANTIGONE: We can’t go on like this, Rudyard! RUDYARD: We’re not going to. ANTIGONE: Cyanide pills? RUDYARD: Not yet.

ok im going to assume antigone is jumping to suicide and rudyard is jumping to murder, because if i assume they're both thinking about suicide i'm. not going to like it very much.

of course maybe they're BOTH jumping to murder. and rudyard is the one not yet there.

GEORGIE: I was talking to Agatha at the sweet shop and she said that Eric’s been going to the market every day and buying out the entire supply of flowers.

no seriously chapman started it.

RUDYARD: Twenty-one. Seek, seeks, wreck, wreckage, disturb, disrupt, destroy, sabotage, funeral, next, revenge, kill, beat, rival, must, go, room, only, for, one, indigo. GEORGIE: Any inspiration? RUDYARD: (BEAT) No. No, nothing at all. Perhaps another round – wait a minute. Wait... Yes. Yes! Of course! Words! GEORGIE: Wreck, wreckage, disrupt, destroy – yeah! RUDYARD: No, not these words, words! We write an advert and put it in the local paper!

and, seriously, putting an ad in the newspaper - after trying to get flowers - is still. really not over the top. it's even normal i'd say. especially contrasted with the inspiration in the words isn't it?

unlike the guy buying ALL the flowers for a publicity stunt (...*thinks about chapman's immediate past* - yeah ok i can see why he would want to honor every grave)

GEORGIE: I’m busy in the morning. If we’ve got a funeral tomorrow, I need to repair the transport. RUDYARD: I mean, we could walk? Like we used to? Strapping a coffin to the back of a moped does lack a certain finesse. GEORGIE: Speed and efficiency, sir.

question : are the funns trying not to spend money because they don't have any or because they're just mean petty little people ?

signs point to : they're broke.

RUDYARD: (BEAT) You? ANTIGONE: Yes. RUDYARD: Go outside? ANTIGONE: Yes!

episode 2 and chapman is already provoking positive change.

Antigone is going outside !

Antigone slipped into the all-over outdoor suit that she’d received as an eighteenth birthday present from her long deceased mother

dont mind me just keeping track of the funns parents.

ANTIGONE: Here we are then. Daytime. (BEAT) It’s not a bit like I remembered it. Still, this is what normal people experience. (BEAT) Antigone, you are a normal person. You are a perfectly ordinary, everyday person. (BEAT) Better put the helmet on.

antigone. antigone, darling. i've listened to all four seasons of wooden overcoats, and let me tell you : you're underselling yourself if you think you're a normal person. you are extraordinary and you have every right to take pride in it.

ANTIGONE: (D) Has Chapman bought them all? PETUNIA: Now I can’t disclose the confidential identity of my newest and most attractive client, can I?

chapman started it.

PETUNIA: I often forget myself. How ‘bout we discuss it over a glass of something tonight? Say eight o’clock? ERIC: Afraid I’ve already got something laid on for this evening. PETUNIA: What’s her name? (CACKLES) ERIC: (POLITE CHUCKLE) Very good. Right, what have we got here...

love how uncomfortable - and used to it - he obviously is.

ANTIGONE: (DEEP SMELL) Oh! They smell just like the old lady we’ve got lying in our mortuary! ERIC: Sure. ANTIGONE: That’s a good thing. ERIC: Is it? Right.

he's so confused by her. love it. she's a mortician dude. of course most of her references includes corpses !

ANTIGONE: “As Soon as Possible”. (BEAT) I mean, no, I shouldn’t be talking. Company secrets. I’ve said too much. ERIC: I won’t steal them. ANTIGONE: Why not, you’re the competition! Goodbye. ERIC: Antigone, wait – do you want to grab a coffee sometime? ANTIGONE: Caffeine makes my hair turn green. ERIC: You’ve got some great ideas; I’d just love to discuss the business with you. Friendly competition! How about it?

...kinda want to slap him for that.

ERIC: I look forward to it! I mean- MOPED SPEEDS AWAY. ... That was a silly thing to say.

no but the way you can see he DOES truly fancy georgie at the beginning by the way he's. clumsy about it.

(he'll be even worse with antigone it's wonderful)

(it's not that i ship it it's that. i like seeing erci embarrass himself.)

(yes i want you to imagine chapman beign THAT awkward over rudyard and rudyard not noticing and being STILL is unbearable self at chapman. it's even better)

RUDYARD: I just thought it was embalming, how difficult could it be? ANTIGONE: Very difficult indeed!!!

rudyard. rudyard why.

RUDYARD: Oh for – Antigone, these are gardenias, I expressly asked for lilies- ANTIGONE: GET OUT!!

yeah he deserves that.

MADELEINE: (V.O.) Rudyard left the office with a deserved sense of elation and confidence. He’d grabbed a bull by the horns, turned it round, and placed an advertisement into a local newspaper. Today nothing could stop him.

rudyard is so very relatable sometimes.

MADELEINE: (V.O.) The funeral of Mrs Coddrington was a thoroughly miserable affair and thus, Rudyard felt, an overwhelming success.

well yes. it's a funeral.

GEORGIE: Bloody ‘ell, Eric’s on every page. “Putting the fun in funerals.” Two, three, four, six-

EXCUSE ME CHAPMAN STARTED IT.

anyway now they've run out of rational options, time for the dark comedy of rudyard putting in places doomed schemes that always turned against him.

ANTIGONE: You can’t sabotage a funeral! RUDYARD: I’m not sabotaging a funeral, I’m sabotaging a cheap, tawdry promotion that tarnishes the very name of the funerary practice – it’d be a crime not to do it!

well i mean. he's not really wrong.

MADELEINE: (V.O.) I wasn’t eager to engage in sabotage but – after all – Rudyard did allow me to live in the skirting board rent free, so I owed him something. I sat in his top pocket as he hurried over to the funeral of old Colonel Kevin Hubbard, who had mistaken a grenade for a can of diet cola and had accidentally detonated himself.

indeed. also : what even is that cause of death.

RUDYARD: No, Madeleine, you can’t plug your new book! (BEAT) Wait, what new book-

*side eyes rudyard* wow, you really do forget things about other people as soon as you notice them, don't you.

this said he DOES understand madeleine, so.

JERRY: What an appalling man! TANYA: And not even wearing any trousers! RUDYARD: They’re just very short! I need to buy another pair!

oh eh the funns are broke by the way.

(ruining a funeral IS really awful, though, so i understand the outrage. on the otehr hand, here goes piffling, already kicking rudyard. it's sure going to be fun...)

#listening again to wooden overcoats #mq liveblogging

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Revelation

Rated PG-13 For mentions of abuse, trigger topics such as suicidal thoughts, torture, language, and kidnaping.

Masterlist

~I am not the only traveler

And then I can tell myself

I had all and then most of you

When the night was full of terrors

There aren't very many things worse than watching one's little brother die. I think the only thing worse than that is enduring it twice. I had already had to watch Jasper be slaughtered like a pig in front of me. Wasn't that torture enough for a lifetime? Was having to salt and burn my own brother the universe's twisted idea of a joke? This wasn't funny!

What kind of cruel world was I living in? Why did my last words to my precious little brother have to be empty promises? How was that okay? Jasper would spend the rest of eternity waiting for me to show up, tell him my stories, and tuck him into bed, but I never would. Because if I lived, I would be stuck down here on this awful planet, reliving the same day over and over and over again. And if the Winchester's decided to kill me when they found out what I was, then I wouldn't be going to heaven. I already knew where I would go. It wasn't anywhere good.

Well, if my life was a joke then I hoped at least somebody was getting a kick out of it.

I knew I wasn't.

From the top of the stairs, I heard Sam, Dean, and Cas open the sliding glass door and shuffle outside. Jack firmly insisted on staying here. He probably thought he should stay in case I ' needed him ' for comfort or something.

'Well, joke's on you, puppy, cause I don't need anyone.' I thought, bitterly. I traveled down the dark hallway to my room, the one with the plain white door all the way down on the end. The door opened with a soft click and squeaky hinges and I kicked it shut behind me.

My room was exactly how I had left it. Not a single thing was out of place. Of course, it was about as far away from immaculate as anything can get. There were pieces of paper strewn all over the desk, plenty of wadded-up sketches in the trash can and even more outside the trash, pencils were left in strange places, and mix-matched fairy-lights draped over  way  too many things. Miscellaneous articles of clothing were draped over a chair, clustered around the laundry basket, crumpled on the bed, and a few were even hanging from the doorframe of the closet. The bed wasn't made, the blankets and sheets hopelessly tangled together and there was an atrocious number of glow-in-the-dark stars glued to the roof. Oh, and let us not forget the rainbow-colored streamers hanging from the ceiling fan, so really everything was just an absolute mess.

But it was a comforting mess and that's how that girl who used to be me had lived. She had been a scatterbrained, messy-haired, and bright-eyed sort of girl, she'd had so much potential. That girl could have great. Her mess comforted me too. Maybe she wasn't as dead as I'd thought.

"Well, I'm just about done with this whole damn popsicle-stand of existence. You?" Isaac asked, sounding more dead than he looked.

"Done," I agreed. "So, so done."

I flopped down on my already messy bed, staring up at the tacky stars on the ceiling while I tried to come to terms with the fact that I'd never see my little brother again. I couldn't feel the prickling of tears forming in my eyes. I guess I'd run all out of tears to cry. Lucky me. I felt like throwing up.

"Should we go down fighting or give up and roll over? What say you?" Isaac collapsed at the foot of my bed.

"What's the point in fighting?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Dunno." He shrugged. "Frequent flyer miles?"

"So... Nothing?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Maybe I would just attack the Winchesters once I tore Felix to sheds. Maybe they wouldn't kill me fast. Maybe they'd make me suffer. Then maybe I could cry like I was supposed to.

I had hardly been debating those thoughts for a minute when I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Oh, joy. Five minutes of peace was all I'd asked for and apparently I couldn't even get that. Screw my life.

The door flew open with an overly dramatic bang but I didn't flinch. Jack stood in the doorway, eyes alight like molten gold. I turned my head lazily to face him, aware of my void expression but ultimately indifferent to it. I couldn't even bring myself to act like the fake version of myself I had made to fool the Winchesters. I felt oddly numb like nothing mattered. Because honestly, what did? Not even getting my revenge on Felix would change anything. Things wouldn't get better, my life would still suck to an astronomical degree, and this whole stupid world would just keep turning like it always did. Getting revenge was just self-indulgence, really. So what if Jack saw the real me for a couple of hours?

With luck, I'd be dead by morning.

With luck, he'd be the one to kill me.

I deserved it.

"Welcome to the year Nineteen-Thirty, puppy. What do you want?" I addressed him. My tone was clipped, calloused, and cold, but I didn't care.

Jack's eyes were glowing and the air was charged with his power; it made my hair stand on end and my ears hurt like when a plane takes off. Yet, oddly enough, if there and been one in my hand, I would have been swirling chocolate milk in a wine glass for all I'd cared.

Jack didn't answer me. His mouth opened and closed and opened and closed. There was something in his eyes, something akin to desperation. He knew what he wanted to say but the words died in his throat.

"You deaf, honey-bug?" I lifted an eyebrow and took an actual glance at his expression. He didn't look angry. He looked...

Terrified.

And shocked.

And torn.

And betrayed.

I did this. It was me. I had hurt him.

His hands clutched an object tightly between them with enough force to turn his knuckles white. It was a picture frame. I caught a glimpse of the picture within; it had been taken two weeks to the day I'd died. I looked back up to his eyes.

Ah, yes. There it was. The recognition. What a clever, clever boy.

He'd finally put all the pieces together.

'Well, good for him.'

"Uh, oh spaghetti-oh's; looks like the Nephil knows," Isaac droned from the foot of my bed.

"What are you?" Jack asked, his voice trembling. He blinked back tears, biting down on his lower lip to keep it from trembling.

I blinked, feeling sick. I didn't want to lose him, I realized. As much as the bitterness inside me tempted me to bite into him and taste his sweet blood or tell him the truth and watch him squirm just for a distraction from the pain, I couldn't. Because then I'd lose him. I didn't want to lose him. I'd already lost Jazzy today for the second time, I couldn't lose Jack too.

Isaac turned to me, his expression as empty as mine. "Ya gonna tell him?"

"I am Miss. Nidsbit," I answered, flatly. It was supposed to sound friendly like I was teasing, but it only came off as evasive. Jack glared at me. It was already happening; I was already losing him. I guess I deserved that much.

"Don't joke," He said.

"I thought it was hilarious," Isaac chimed.

"In that case, I'm bottled-depression." I flashed my teeth in a way that held no joy whatsoever. "Pint-sized for your convenience," I added, trying for a familiar joke about my height. It sounded empty.

"That was better," My brother snickered, leaning back and closing his eyes. He was probably just going to keep making sarcastic jabs in an attempt to vent his anger, so I ignored him.

"I asked you a question," Jack growled in a way that somehow managed to be threatening despite the whole baby-face puppy-eyed thing he had going on. It was actually kinda hot... Wait, what? When had that happened?

"And I answered you." I sat up. Why did I sound so bitter? Why couldn't I change it? My eyes flicked down to Jack's throat without my permission. His skin looked so soft and I realized I was suddenly famished. My throat burned and desire reared its ugly head inside me. Isaac's voice snapped my attention back to reality.

"Oh dear, Marty. You made the Nephil sniffle."

Jack clenched his teeth and hissed, seemingly bothered by the fact that I wasn't afraid of him. He wouldn't hurt me, right? No, he would. He would hurt me if he knew. If he knew what I wanted to do to him. I wanted him to hold me as he had a few days ago but I wanted to sink my teeth into him at the same time. I deserved to die.

"What are you?" He repeated, taking a step forward. He would hurt me. Good.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied, my voice inflectionless. Wandering towards my dresser I started fiddling with some meaningless piece of junk. Anything for a distraction from his soft throat and thrumming pulse. Jack's glowing eyes followed me.

"Y-you're lying," He said. He was trying to sound strong, but there was something broken in his tone.

"Ya think?" I deadpanned. Jack swallowed thickly; his hand shot out to grab my wrist, eyes fading back to their soft blue.

"This isn't funny, Marty. Stop." His eyes pleaded with me. I eyed his hand.

"Or what?" I challenged. What would he do to me? He looked me in the eyes, frowning and moving closer to me. He needed to step away. I caught my gaze drifting to his neck again but I couldn't stop.

"I really don't want to hurt you," He said.

'Then don't make me tell you.' I thought. His eyes searched my face for any glimpse of his friend, but that girl had never been real, not really anyway. I had made her up.

I wished I could go back in time. Back to the night we met. We could do it all over again and maybe, if I had another chance, he wouldn't figure it out. Maybe it would've been better if I'd never come with Jack in the first place. I wished we could go back to the night we met. Then I could have said no. If I hadn't come with him, I never would have hurt Jack like this. If he had never touched me then I would never have had to feel this pain. If I could just go back.

"And you won't," I said, taking a chance.

Jack huffed, his expression pained.

"This is freakin' five-star entertainment," Isaac mused, resting his chin on his fist, observing Jack and me.

"Please, Marty," Jack begged in a whisper. His sweet-smelling breath was warm as it washed over my face. His eyes flicked down to my lips but only for a split second. No, no. Anything but that. "Just tell me the truth."

'You already know it.'

"I have," I lied. Everything kept coming out wrong! I sounded emotionless like I didn't care but I did! Jack's soft expression melted into one of betrayal.

"So, you're just going to lie?" He asked. "Right to my face?"

I didn't have control over what slipped from my lips next.

"Says the Devil's kid."

"Ooh! One point to the Marty!" Isaac laughed.

Jack stared at me like he was heartbroken. Then his eyes narrowed into a glare, lighting with gold as he released my wrist and moved his hand to seize my throat. He whirled us around and slammed me into a wall with more force than I'm sure than he intended to use. Not that I couldn't take it. Without so much as a flinch, I tilted my head as much as I could with Jack cutting off my air supply.

"Tell me what you are!" He shouted. There was desperation there.

"That's quite the grip ya got there, puppy," I taunted, rasping. He loosened his grip but only slightly, holding the picture of my family up for me to see, the corner was dated January 8th, 2014.

"You said they died five years ago. This picture- it was taken five years ago! You said you were nine then! But y-you - you weren't!" Jack's eyes were wide, almost crazed as he glanced from the girl in the picture and back to me. He knew the truth; he just didn't want to believe it. His voice softened. "You haven't aged a day. Five years and you haven't aged a day."

My voice was soft and it wasn't just from the lack of air. "I aged about a month, actually."

Jack let go of my throat like I was burning him, shaking his head as he backed away like a frightened animal. As well he should. He was the prey here and I did want to kill him. But I wanted him to hold me again even more. "Y-you're one of them..." He whispered.

'Don't leave me. I'm sorry, just don't leave me!' I thought desperately, but that wasn't what came out. I felt trapped in my own skin, the monster inside me taking over, fed by my own bitterness.

"I'd say something along the lines of 'say it out loud' but I'm pretty sure that would have copywrite issues," I said, shrugging and moving back to sit on my bed. Jack watched me carefully.

"Felix - h-he turned you. He made you just like him - a vampire... You're a monster!" He spat the word like it was snake-venom.

And it hurt. It hurt so freaking bad. It was like I had lodged a knife in my own chest years ago and now Jack was twisting it.

'I know I am.' I wanted to say.

"Well that's a harsh way of putting it. But I've been called worse." I brushed it off like I didn't care like it wasn't that deep like I wasn't  bleeding  to tell him how sorry I was. I lowered my head in shame.

"I-I have to tell Sam and Dean," Jack said, shifting onto the balls of his feet, edging towards the door. He was going to make a run for it. Suddenly, I was in control of my body again.

I couldn't let him. I needed more time. I needed to beat Felix first and then they could all find out. I had to fix this. I could still fix this.

I had made Jack forget once.

I could do it again.

I would take us back in time. Before he knew. Make everything right. Take us back to the night we met.

He had to forget.

"I can't let you do that," I spoke softly, my gaze still focused on my feet.

"Are you going to try to kill me?" He asked accusingly.

"No." I shook my head. No, I could never kill him. I was too selfish for that. He deserved someone so much better than me. But I loved him.

"Then what are you going to do?" Jack shifted closer to the exit.

"Isaac," I glanced at my brother out of the corner of my eye. Jack stiffened, his eyes snapping to where mine went. "Get the door."

"On it!" Isaac said, overly eager. Jack bolted but he was too slow. My brother flicked his wrist and the door swung closed with a click. Jack swallowed thickly and glanced back to me, fear filling his features. I knew what he was going to try next.

'This is necessary. One day I'll be sorry.'

"His wings," I said to Isaac, my voice breaking. Isaac grinned widely and reached out, making a pinching motion. Jack froze in a panic, then he clenched his eyes shut groaning as Isaac twisted his hands just a bit.

"Can I rip 'em off?" He asked, basking in the Nephilim's pain.

"Isaac, no!"

"Oh, come on," He twisted his hands even more and Jack cried out, his innocent face twisting in agony. "Just a little?"

"Stop! Just-" I sighed. "Please, don't hurt him, Isaac. Just keep him still, please."

Isaac rolled his eyes. "Oh, fine!" He let go and Jack fell to the ground, panting and shaking. He did his best to get to his feet but Isaac flung him into a wall, pinning him there. "Go ahead and Obliviate the simp."

I stood and stepped towards Jack, slowly and carefully, trying not to scare him any more than I had. I could tell he was trying desperately to move but Isaac was too strong.

"What are you going to do?" Jack demanded, trying to hide the fear in his voice. "Are you going to drink my blood?!"

I froze.

Because I could. Then, I could make him forget.

I glanced at his throat. My fangs ached to come out - to bite.  I could imagine what it might feel like to bury my teeth in that soft, delicious-smelling skin. I could imagine what he might taste like. He'd be sweet like candy. I could be gentle! Maybe if he could somehow understand how badly I needed him then he'd let me. And he heals fast so he'd be okay.

But he wouldn't understand. And I wanted him to hold me again.

I just wanted Jack to hold me again.

"No," I said. I plucked the picture frame from his hands, gazing at the smiles of my family for a moment. I looked up, trying to smile despite the ache of grief and guilt in my chest. "I'm going to need you to forget this."

"I wish I could," Jack said, glaring at the floor. He couldn't even look at me. He couldn't even look.

I nodded. "You will."

"W-what?"

I sighed and moved over to the window. The crisp breeze blew in from the sea as I threw it open, the curtains billowing like vicious barking dogs on a leash. It was a long way down to the black rocks where the land met the ocean. I dropped the picture and watched it tumble until it smashed into the rocks, shattering that perfect picture frame, shattering my picture-perfect family into a million pieces.

"I can make you forget," I told him, over my shoulder. "Take us back to the night we met." The power inside me trilled with excitement; it wanted Jack, it craved him. Or maybe that was just the monster I was, begging to be unleashed. I turned away from the window, closing it as I did.

"What do you mean?" He asked cautiously. He was scared. He was  so  scared.

"I'm going to talk to you, and then you're going to forget, and everything will be back to the way it was." I would fix this. His arms would be around me as soon as I fixed this and everything would be okay. I hung my head and let the power inside me launch forward and wrap itself like chains around my Nephilim. I could feel his light, his grace, fighting back but it had nothing substantial to fight. My power wasn't physical, I just imagined it being so.

"No! W-wait!" Jack watched me with dread, beginning to feel the effects of what I was doing to him. I was locking his memories away, locking him up in his own head. But I had to. Because he wouldn't understand and I needed him.

"I have to do this," I whispered, digging my mental claws in deeper.

"Stop," He gasped, beginning to tremble with effort, "Whatever you're doing, just stop!"

"I can't stop, Jack. I'm sorry, but I just need a little more time," I said, gently. "Four moves and I win."

"Four moves..." He mumbled to himself, his brows furrowing, "Four moves? I-I've heard that before. Where have I heard that before?" Then he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut again.

"Please, just forget. I need you to forget."

'I need you to hold me again.'

"Get out of my head!" Jack's voice rose with panic. He flinched away from me as much as he could but Isaac kept him pinned and helpless.

"I'm gonna make everything okay again. I promise." I fought harder against him, willing my power to work faster. Jack moaned and I glanced up to see his face contorted with pain.

"Please!" He begged me, grimacing, "Please, stop! Marty, please. It hurts." I tried harder, and a choked sob escaped his throat. "Marty, please! It hurts! It hurts! You have to stop! Please!"

"I wish you hadn't found out, Jack, and one day I'll be sorry about this."

"Wait. Wait, no!"

I pushed my power harder than I ever had before.

A horrifying scream of pure agony ripped from Jack's throat. But the walls of this house were built to withstand hurricanes. I was the only one who could hear him. With one last burst of effort, I overpowered the walls of his grace and my power flooded his mind, wiping away any memories of what I was. His scream faltered into groans and those softened into whimpers and Jack's body went limp.

Isaac let go and the Nephilim collapsed but I caught him before his head hit the floor. Carding my fingers through his hair, I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Picking him up, I carried him to my bed and laid him there. He weighed more than I did, obviously, but he didn't feel very heavy to me. I laid down beside him, hugging him around the middle and pressing my face into his chest.

Then I finally cried.

"I hope you can forgive me before I'm sorry. Because I'm a liar and don't think I'll ever really regret this."

***

"You hear something?" Sam asked, perking up. Castiel sat dutifully on a large black bolder, watching the house. The angel flicked his eyes to Sam and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head before focusing back on the house.

"Hm? Uh, no." Dean hardly spared a glance. He was too busy drawing inappropriate words in the sand with his foot. Sam frowned.

"Weird." He shook his head, swallowing thickly as he paced back and forth across the moonlit sand.

"Martina threw a picture frame from her window and it shattered against the rocks approximately sixty-two feet south-east of where you are standing," Castiel informed him, "Perhaps that's what you heard."

Sam shook his head again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No, no. It, uh, it wasn't that. I just- I-I coulda' sworn I heard someone..." He trailed off. 'Scream,' He wanted to say. The sound had been like a phantom pain; intense yet insubstantial.

'Just like the visions...' Sam thought. But no. That wasn't possible. He hadn't had a vision or any manifestation of psychic abilities for going on twelve years! He was probably just imagining things. Sam pushed the thought away as soon as it had come. It was impossible... Right?

Yet still, his eyes wandered to the window on the upstairs floor of the dark house; the only window with a slim shaft of light peaking through the curtains. Because what if...

No .

No. Everything was fine, Jack would have alerted them if there was any danger - or at least - the brothers and their angel would've been able to see if Jack thought there was any danger. Judging by the lack of explosions, Sam could assume that everything was fine.

There was no trap here after all. Although, if he thought about it, that may have been the trap in itself. That monster called Felix had lured Marty back here to relive the most painful day of her life. There had been no vamps waiting to do her any physical harm, but Felix didn't need them to. He just wanted that poor, sweet, little girl to hurt.

And, boy was she hurting.

Sam knew how it felt to lose a brother. He knew how it felt to watch his brother die twice. Hell! Sam had watched Dean die more than one hundred times on the one hundred worst Tuesdays of his life. It had made him feel empty inside - hollow. Like somebody had scraped out everything inside of him, the good and the bad, and had left an utter nothingness in its place. And in the face of all that nothing, fear had gripped Sam's heart like a vice. Fear of that emptiness - of all the unspeakable things it made him willing to do. Sam had been willing - eager even - to do whatever it took if it meant filling that awful hole inside of him.

That was what scared him. It was that ruthlessness. It was that titanium will he'd always shied away from. It was when he'd looked into a mirror and seen John Winchester staring back at him. Deep down, that was what both Sam and Dean had always feared the most. Becoming their father. Becoming the shell of a man that had raised them.

Sam could see the beginnings of a similar shell-forming in Martina. He had seen it when they'd rescued her from that shed the week before. Her shell wasn't made of hate like John's had been - not completely at least. Marty's shell had come from grief and fear. She was just trying to hide; both from Felix and from the shell of a person that she was becoming. Jack had told Sam about Marty's memory gaps - about how she couldn't remember what had happened in the shed after she had left. Sam knew that traumatized people tend to blot things out, it was common. But things like the shed and her return to her childhood home could only serve to send Marty further into her shell.

And the last thing the world needed was another John Winchester.

"These kids were livin' a dream, aye Sammy?"

Sam frowned as Dean's mumbled words knocked him from his train of thought. "H-how do you mean?"

"I mean, look! They had everything!" He said, gesturing from the white sand of the beach to the black rocks to the brine woods. His tone and expression grew sober. "Just like a little fairy-tale. And, I mean, three psychics? Those kids - they had a lotta' potential. So smart and talented and now..." Dean trailed off with a frown.

"Yeah..." Sam quietly agreed. Dean turned to his brother with a pensive expression.

"Got me thinkin', maybe-" He sighed. It was hard for him to say and he didn't want to say it. Even though Dean knew that Marty was capable of more than she seemed and that she could affect his emotions, he didn't really care.

Well, he did  care . Dean hated people screwing with his head or his feelings, period. But somehow Marty was different. He didn't really care to admit it, but Dean had always wanted a daughter. A sweet soul he could love and care for but definitely, with a badass side, he could bestow his knowledge upon. Claire was a close as he had gotten but she had already grown up and she didn't want his help. To Claire, Dean was only a painful reminder of all she'd lost.

And, of course, there was Emma.

But Dean didn't like to think about her.

Thinking about Emma was too painful.

But Marty was still young, and she didn't see Dean the way Clair did. Marty looked at Dean with hope in her eyes and he desperately wanted to keep it that way.

Jack had used to look at him that way. Jack didn't look at him like that anymore.

Because Dean had messed up with Jack. He could admit that now. He'd messed up and he'd messed up bad. Things had gotten better between them; little by little over time. But Jack hadn't even been five days old when Dean had promised to take his life. After that, Jack had only watched Dean with fear. Not hope. Just sheer friggin' terror on his face whenever the elder Winchester walked into the room. And though things had gotten better, they'd always have that promise between them.

That promise from the night when if Dean had only been a better person he could have made things better and not worse like he always did. (Because he was always making things worse. Always too selfish. Always screwing things up. Always getting people hurt. It was always him, always his fault.) Dean could've snatched that knife from Jack's hands and told him it was going to be alright even if it didn't seem like it would be. And Dean could've given the kid the kind of hug he should've been given the day he was born; a father's hug, just like Castiel would have given him if he'd been alive to do it. Because that was Cas's son. That was Cas's kid! Oh, God... Cas... How could Dean have let his best friend down so horribly? Cas, who had given everything up for him and his brother. Cas had saved them time and time again at his own expense. Cas, who would bleed every drop of blood he had with a smile on his face, all in the name of the Winchesters. How could Dean have betrayed him like that? It wasn't enough for Dean to just let the angel die!  (It was Dean's fault, of course. It always was. How couldn't it be? He could have prevented it. If he'd just been a little faster or a little smarter.) No, he had to go and tear that innocent kid to pieces just cause he was sad. (So, selfish. How could he be so selfish? Why was he always so selfish?) Cas had trusted Dean with his son and Dean had repaid him with the promise to take Jack's life. No wonder Jack still could hardly bear to look Dean in the eyes. How could he? Dean wasn't meant to be a father to anyone. He was too frickin' selfish for that.

But this time, things would be different. This time around, Dean would be different - he would be better. For once in his life, he would be selfless and he'd do the right thing even if it possibly meant giving up his only chance to raise a little girl. Because, despite being tainted by darkness and tears, there was still so much good inside Martina Linville. She had so much potential, with the right chances, she could grow up to be great. But she would need those right chances and she wouldn't get them if she stayed with the Winchester's broken little family. All they brought to people was tears and death.

Dean didn't want that for her. She deserved better. Just like Dean himself and his brother had deserved better. She deserved to live a life free from all this pain - a good life, a happy life. Dean wanted that for her. Dean just wanted to help. That was all he'd ever wanted. The last thing Marty needed was more darkness in her life. She didn't need them in her life.

She didn't need him in her life.

So, Dean would be selfless and he would let her go and he would give her the chance to shine like the stars she loved so much. It was probably the most fatherly thing he could do for her. 'Cause Dean just wasn't cut out to be a Dad.

But, oh, did he wish he could be one. Even though he knew that Marty's empathic abilities were probably what was making him feel so strongly about her, Dean couldn't help but go along with it. It wasn't like she was stuffing thoughts in his head; his feelings may have been bolstered but Dean's mind was his own. Dean had always wanted a daughter, Marty hadn't made that up that wish, she'd just reminded him of it. He felt awful about how he had treated Jack and craved a chance at redemption for his mistakes; Dean had made those choices, all Marty had done was exist to give him a chance. Sure, she was rioting his emotions. But what did that matter? Because Dean wanted this and damn it! This felt real!

But he couldn't have it.

Because Dean, and his brother, and their angel, and - yes - even Jack -- it was all some sick, screwed up, god damn beautiful tragedy -- But they were the last thing Martina Linville needed.

So, Dean would be selfless.

"Thinkin' about what?" Sam's question shook Dean from his reverie and back to what he'd been meaning to say.

"Maybe we should put her into the system after all this," He said, thoughtfully, though there was regret in his tone also. Sam blinked twice, shaking his head.

"W-what? The system? You mean the foster system?" He asked, incredulously.

"Yeah? Something wrong with that?" Dean responded. Sam gaped at him.

"Is something wrong with that? Dean, everything is wrong with that!" He exclaimed. Dean opened his mouth to argue but Sam didn't let him. "We made Marty a promise! Just this morning you said she was part of the family. Was all that just talk?"

"No, but-"

"Then what the Hell was it, Dean? Because you can't just go back on something like that! We said we'd take care of her," Sam huffed, crossing his arms and glaring at his older brother.

"And that's exactly what we'd be doing," Dean argued, "Giving her a place that's safe."

"Who would take her in? She's fourteen and she's got more trauma than some war veterans, I don't-"

"Exactly!" Dean cut him off. "The kid's got issues! She needs help, the professional kind."

"Since when do you promote therapy? Sam scoffed.

"When it doesn't involve me," Dean grumbled. Sam shook his head, getting back to the point.

"Throwing her on a bunch of strangers with no clue what she's been through, and who couldn't possibly understand her even if they knew, isn't going to help her! She'd get tossed around or thrown into some group therapy home till she's eighteen and then they'd dump her back on the streets where we found her! How is that taking care of her?"

"It's getting her out of this life, Sam," Dean said firmly. Sam glared.

"You mean getting her out of your life," The younger brother spat lowly.

"What did you just say?" Dean asked dangerously.

"You heard me."

"You have somethin' ya wanna say to my face, Sammy?" Dean growled.

"Dean," Castiel said his name like a warning, his hand gripping Dean's shoulder, holding him back.

"Yeah, I do." Sam's nostrils flared and his mouth was pressed into a thin line. "I'm not gonna stand by and watch you do this again."

"Do what again?" Dean questioned, Cas' hand on his shoulder reminding him to keep calm.

"This thing you do. Anytime a kid comes along, you do this. You act all annoyed, then right as you start liking having 'em around something happens and you realize the responsibility and it freaks you out so you back off and you push 'em away."

"I don't do that," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah? 'Cause you did it with Kevin, you did it with Claire, you did it with Jack, and now you're doing it again right now with Marty. The second things get real, you get scared and you run away." Sam kept eye contact with Dean, challenging him to look away. Dean clenched his teeth, his pride preventing him from losing the contest of wills.

"Quit fooling yourself, Sam. Look at me!" Dean's voice broke just a little. But he cleared his throat, quick to cover his mistake. "Er, at us, I mean. We can't raise a kid!" He protested.

"We raised Jack," Sam countered.

"Because there were  literally no better alternatives!" Dean seethed. Sam opened his mouth but Dean wasn't done. Hyperaware of Castiel's presence just behind him, guilt ate at his heart. But Dean had never been very good at apologies. "And I even screwed that up! I'm not Dad material, Sam. I'm just not!"

His outburst of emotion made Sam blink, rendering him momentarily speechless. He could have spoken his next words gently but pride made them come out like acid.

"I don't think that's what Ben thought," He hissed. Sam knew it was a low-blow bringing up Ben. That wound was still sore.

"Yeah?" Dean laughed but there was no humor in it. "WELL LOOK HOW THAT TURNED OUT!" He yelled. Sam tensed but didn't back off.

"Something isn't real because it lasts, Dean," Sam said, speaking just a little bit gentler now. "For however short a time, Ben had a dad that loved and cared about him. For however short a time, you made him happy. You say you're not dad material, but that's not what I saw. If that's what you're so worried about, then don't be. 'Cause you made an pretty awesome dad, Dean, even if Ben doesn't remember."

Dean sighed in defeat. "We have nothing to give her, Sam."

"We have trust and understanding, a-and that's more than some random foster home could give her."

Dean shook his head. "It doesn't have to be random."

"What do mean?"

"Jody," He suggested, "I mean, she's already got Claire and Alex. What's one more?"

Sam sighed through his nose, shaking his head. "Yeah, she's got Claire and Alex-" He paused giving his older brother a pointed look. "-  And Patience and Kaia. What's one more? That's only five emotionally unstable teenage girls to take care of, on top of a full time job as a sheriff, and hunting to worry about too."

"I agree with Sam," Castiel spoke up, "We cannot simply dump yet another troubled youth onto the already burdened shoulders of Sheriff Mills." Sam gestured to the angel as if accentuate his point.

"But at least she'd be safe," Dean argued, pursing his lips into a thin line.

"From monsters, sure," Sam agreed, nodding. Dean could sense a ' but ' coming. "But not from herself."

"Jody could help Marty just as much as we could - probably more!" He said. Dean could hear Sam grind his teeth in frustration, but Cas held up a hand to speak.

"I don't think that's true, Dean."

"Why not?" Dean asked the angel.

"'Why not?' Haven't you been listening?" Sam exclaimed. Cas shot the younger Winchester a look and he fell silent.

"I am sure Sheriff Mills is a competent and kind woman; however, Martina does not know or trust her. Sending her to live there would only be marginally better than shipping her off to a stranger," The angel stated, evenly.

"What's that gotta do with what Sam said?" Dean asked. Cas gave him a long-suffering look but continued in perfect patience.

"As weary as I am of Martina's true motives and intentions, I think it is plenty clear the choice she faces after the termination of her family's killer. That is, if she has not made her decision already."

Dean's face scrunched with confusion. "What choice is that?"

"The choice of continuing to live free from the threat of Felix Monroe, or..." The angel trailed off, frowning. His tone made Dean feel like there was a knot in his chest.

"Or what?" He pressed, cautiously. Cas sighed.

"Or to end her life and return to her family," Cas finished, soberly.

Dean was stunned. He hadn't thought- He had never realized.

"Wait, whoa. Are you telling me Marty wants to commit suicide?" His eyes were wide with fear and alarm. She was too young for that. Too young to want to kill herself. No. She couldn't. Dean wouldn't let that happen. "Where's this coming from?" He demanded. Sam glared at him.

"She told her little brother she'd be with him soon. Combine that with the scars on her wrists, and it's really not that hard to figure out," He said, coolly.

Scars? Dean understood now. That was why she was always wearing long sleeves, even in the sweltering heat of Florida. Sam took advantage of his older brother's silence.

"Think about it, Dean," He pushed, "Sending her away from first people she's allowed herself to get attached to in five years? You think that will help?"

The thought made Dean reconsider but Sam had more to say.

"A-and think of Jack! You've seen how much he cares about her. I've seen him smile more in these last two and a half weeks than he did in the five months since we got him back from Apocalypse World. What do you think would happen if he found Marty laying in a pool of her own blood? What do you think that would do to him?"

"It would kill him." Dean sighed, nodding in agreement and Sam cracked a smile.

"I mean, we both know he loves her, Dean. And I-I don't mean like a sister," The younger brother said, fondly. Dean chuckled and the tension in the air cleared.

"Yeah, there's definitely a thing there." He shook his head, grinning. "I mean, it's totally weird but it's a thing." Sam nodded and shrugged.

"Well, I dated a demon. I don't think I can judge."

"You can say that again!" Dean laughed.

The sudden chime of a phone ringing cut through the cool nighttime air like a knife and Dean reached to answer. The smile dropped from his face as soon as he caught a glance at the screen.

"Who is it?" Castiel asked.

"Blocked," Dean answered, apprehension filling his voice, "Three guesses as to who." He mumbled, sliding a finger across the screen to pick up the call and putting it on speaker.

"This is Dean Winchester," He announced as the line connected.

There was no voice on the other side of the call.

"Hello?" He tried again.

Again nothing.

Dean could hear someone breathing but they didn't speak. The breaths sounded ragged and uneven like the person was out of breath. There was background noise as well, a deep rumbling that seemed to increase in volume as time wore on. Without warning, the sound of a deep bellowing horn blared from the phone's speaker. It was the sort of horn that typically accompanies a low rumbling noise. It was the sort of horn that accompanies a really, really big train. The sound of the horn grew louder but soon began to fade as the train passed by whoever had been holding the phone. Something told him this wasn't a simple case of a butt-dial. The situation unnerved for some reason he couldn't name. It was like a scene from a movie.

"Tell me who you are or I'm hanging up," Dean said, his voice demanding.

"I-I would'nt d-do that if I were y-you!"  A desperate, ragged voice called from the phone. Dean had gotten it wrong. The person on the phone wasn't Felix. The person on the phone was a little girl and she wasn't out of breath. She was terrified.

"Why not?" He asked, cautiously.

"B-because little Pamala o-only get's this one c-call." The voice on the other end sounded oddly robotic despite the words being broken into syllables by the girl's sobs.

"What do you mean?" He wondered.

"She-she's lu-ucky you picked u-up. If you hadn't I'd have t-old my friends to e-eat swe-eet Pammy here! Sh-she's seven, just so you know!"  The little girl choked out.

"Felix," Dean growled, "You're using the little girl to talk for you?"

"Pamala is a c-cute little pup-pet. But she's a-annoy-ing. If she d-doesn't stop s-stutter-ing, I'll tell one of my f-friends to t-ake a bite!"  The little girl whimpered and took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice for the sake of her life. " So, what shall I make Panama say next?"

Dean gritted his teeth together. To his right, Sam looked like he was going to be sick. But this wasn't just sick, this was downright  vile . On his left, Cas looked about ready to rip that monster apart with his bare hands.

"Why don't you talk to me with your own voice, Nessie? Ya scared?" Dean taunted.

"No. That would ruin the fun of the game." The girl spoke slowly, trying her best to stay calm.

"What game?" Castiel demanded, sounding a step away from livid.

"You hunters and your angel have thirty minutes to come and rescue poor, little Pamala. When time is up, I'll tell my friends to- to r-rip her in- into itty-bitty pieces!" The girl let out a panicked sob after finishing the monster's words.

"How are we supposed to do that?" Dean demanded, fuming. "She could be anywhere!"

"No, not anywhere, Dean. She's sitting all wrapped up in the attic of the Florida East Coast Railway Station at Fort Pierce. I might be there with her too, gives you a chance to catch me just to make things interesting. But you better hurry, I hear t-traffic can be a biatch."

"You're gonna pay for this, you son of a bitch!" Dean growled.

"Watch the language, Dean Winchester. There are children present. You don't wanna spoil little Pamala's innocence, do you?"

Dean was so enraged, he couldn't even speak. Luckily, Sam was thinking the same as he was.

"We're gonna kill you," Sam promised.

"Perhaps. But not before I show y-you the truth."

The truth? What truth?

"This call will end in...

Five...

Four..."

"Stay strong, sweetheart!" Dean called to the little girl on the other side of the phone. "We're gonna come help you!"

"Three...

Two...

One...

...

...

...

Please save me...

...

...

...

I don't wanna die..."

Then the line clicked and the call was over.

Dean clenched his jaw and put the phone away.

"Let's go gank that sick bastard."

~I am not the only traveler

And then I can tell myself

I had all and then most of you

When the night was full of terrors

Lyrics from: The Night We Met by Lord Huron

I had all and then most of you

#jack kline x oc #jack kline #jack kline fanfiction #jack kline x reader #spn #spn fanfiction #superntural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #alexander calvert #alex calvert #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #jack is baby #jack kline humor #jack kline fluff #fluff #my name is cas and i write stuff #fanfic #thanks for reading #have a nice day #misha collins

[lovelazarus]

rating: Mature

archive warning: graphic depictions of violence

words: 2645

tags: Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm (fairly graphic), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, graphic description of suicide attempt, Flashbacks, Trauma, Fluff, Fix-It of Sorts, Dean is alive, Castiel is alive, Hurt/Comfort, POV Dean Winchester, brief mention of John Winchester - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, Sad with a Happy Ending, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Past Abuse, Homophobic Language, 15x20 Fix-It

summary: (This fic starts out with a graphic dream/flashback of Dean's mid-20s.) Cas showed up to save Dean in 15x20 after he let himself get impaled on rebar, his attempt to stop living while thinking Cas was truly gone in the Empty. It's been a few months since that event in the Barn. Things have been calm since Chuck lost his power & Jack brought Castiel back to help rebuild heaven (although Jack isn't in this directly!). Even with things being okay, Dean's decades of trauma are still bubbling up and Dean has to face the reality of his actions (past & present).

PLEASE read all tags before reading!

The last thing Dean remembers is sitting down on the couch in the Deancave, waiting for Cas to come pick tonight's movie. He must’ve dozed off at some point because suddenly it's 2004 and he’s 25 years old again.

The two years Sammy was off at Stanford was one of Dean’s lowest points in life; including his trip to hell, being a demon & helping kick start the apocalypse. He was completely alone.

Sam was gone, John was irate and blamed Dean for Sam leaving, for not stopping him from leaving. Dean was hunting alone, without his family, for the first time in his life. His last hunt however was the first to deeply scar him irrevocably.

A father and 2 sons, roughly the same age apart as him and Sam. Both attacked by an extremely vengeful spirit, the father was gutted and the sons were supernaturally manipulated into hanging themselves. Dean walked into their house hoping to save the family after following trails of the case, but he walked into a gruesome scene that left him shaking and holding back from vomiting.

In Dean’s mind, it was a representation of his own torn apart family. He left the home, found the grave of the spirit, and put it to rest with unsteady hands and bleary eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to you in time… I could’ve saved you and I wasn’t there. I wasn’t good enough to help you. I’m so sorry.” Dean whispers, half to the victims and half to his younger brother, thousands of miles away and unable to hear his plea.

He gets to the motel room he rented with his duffle slung over his shoulder and stands outside the door with the key in his hand, almost afraid to enter, lest he finds another sick and twisted scene inside. He exhales roughly and shoves the key into the door and strides in.

All that's inside his cheap bottle of gas station whiskey and a pack of menthols.

He drops his duffle on the extra twin bed before scooping up his liquor and smokes. He wants to erase this entire hunt from his mind if he can.

Oh, how he wants to.

Three hours later his whole pack is gone, cigarette butts shoved into an old ashtray, and 3/4th the bottle of whiskey is sitting harshly in his stomach. Dean can’t stop picturing that family as his own. Thoughts of his father’s anger circle inside his mind like a tornado.

“I told you to watch out for Sammy, boy! Do you even use that brain other than to continuously disappoint me and fail your brother? To fail Mary?”

HIT

“I left you alone for two weeks! TWO WEEKS THAT'S ALL! Now Sam has run off and you’re going to pay for it.”

HIT

“So you blew through all the money I left you and now you’re turning tricks like some little faggot? You’re going to influence Sammy to that shit and I won’t allow my sons to be like that.”

HIT

With each memory of John rushing back into Dean’s mind, he can still feel the physical hits coming. His dad was right. This would never have happened if he hadn’t been more careful. If he had protected Sam like he was told to. If he had been a better son.

He finishes the last of the whiskey as the screams of his father’s voice start to fade back into the black void inside his mind. But the moment the last drop of liquor touches his tongue, he breaks. Every punch landed by his father that he took in order to protect Sam comes rushing back. Every harsh word and drunken fight he got into. Every argument with Sam over being too controlling, too much of a soldier.

Dean feels sick.

The toilet in that crappy motel room has certainly seen better days, but no matter how much Dean vomits, he stays just as drunk.

In a moment of blind anger, he destroys the kitchenette, the TV, and the nightstand. He chucks the empty whiskey bottle at the wall and watches the glass fly everywhere as it shatters.

He absent-mindedly picks up a large piece of glass.

This could kill me. One quick and easy slash to my neck or wrist and that’d be it. No more pain for Sam, and no more disappointment for dad.

He lets his hand drop to his side and allows the shard to fall to the floor. This isn’t the first time he’s had thoughts like this in moments of weakness, but it's certainly the first time there was a calm push behind it. He collapses to his knees with a broken sob. He doesn’t want to do this anymore. He's tired.

God, he is so tired.

Dean isn’t sure when he decided this was his only option to stop the deep visceral pain he’s feeling, but it's where he’s at now.

Swallow all the pills in the med bag? No, that's what bitches and girls do, plus… it's painful.

Slit his wrists in a nice warm bath? Even worse than pills! You really are some kind of faggot, aren’t you?

Shotgun to the face? Now that's the man’s way out.

He pauses, looking over to his favorite sawed-off. It’ll be an absolute mess if that’s the way he goes. He thinks again to the family he couldn’t save; how gory and horrific it was. He shudders and breathes in sharply. He can’t do that to someone else, especially not some innocent civilian.

“Of course,” he mutters under his breath “I have a rope in the trunk.” So that’s the plan.

He stuffs all his shit into his duffle, writes out an apology to Sam, Bobby, and John (it’s a suicide note, but it doesn’t explain anything), and then he ties a military-grade noose. He finds a chair that isn’t completely destroyed by his earlier rage and begins to tie the rope onto the ceiling fan.

He stands there for a moment, contemplating. “Am I really about to do this? I’ve fought monsters and demons and ghosts for twenty years and this is where it ends?”

He shakes his head and shrugs.

“Always knew I'd die before thirty.”

He raises the noose to his head and just as he is about to slide it around his throat… The chair breaks apart, and he's left lying on his back with the wind knocked out of him.

“FUCK!” he manages to yell out before his lungs and chest start burning again. Tears begin to pinprick at his eyes as he lays motionless (and probably concussed, he didn’t break his fall at all). “I can’t even kill myself right.” he thinks to himself.

Slowly, he gets himself off the floor, groaning at the pain in his skull and back as he does. Crawling over to his bed, he sees the glass shard he dropped earlier.

“I just want to stop this fucking FEELING” his mind screams. “Just do SOMETHING you worthless son of a bitch!”

He picks the glass back up.

Everything is hazy when his brain starts to come into focus again. His hands feel slick and wet, so he brings them to his face to see what he touched.

Blood.

His own blood.

Three long gashes across his forearm, roughly a quarter-inch deep and four inches long each. He needs to stitch himself up for sure.

30 minutes later and it just looks like a hunt gone bad, his arm is sewn up and all the motel towels are stained red.

For a fleeting moment, he feels at peace. The rush of discovering what he did in a fog of failing to kill himself and the overwhelming feeling of failing his family, he feels like this was something he deserved. Like he deserved to be punished.

After an hour of dissociating and staring at the wall, he passes out and sinks into a moment of silent nothingness. No nightmares, not yet.

Dean practically jumps out of his skin when he hears Cas’s voice from the doorway.

“Dean? You look pale. What's going on?” Castiel asks with his familiar cadence.

Dean wishes he knew what brought that memory back up. Instead, he plasters on a fake smile and shakes his head reassuringly the best he can.

“Nothing Cas, just thinking I guess. What took you so long? You burn the popcorn or somethin?” Dean knows he sounds insincere, he knows that Cas knows, too. He doesn't want Cas to worry any more than he already does, though.

“Dean, your heart rate sped up and you were on the verge of hyperventilating, what happened?”

Damn it. He should’ve known Cas could still do that weird x-ray angel shit. Instead of trying to hide it further, he sighs and motions for Castiel to sit beside him on the couch.

However, he blanches when Cas passes behind him and brushes his hand against Dean’s shoulder. Cas sits down carefully, not to overwhelm Dean. Castiel has seen him during a flashback before, especially after hell. Cas looks inviting, ready to listen to whatever Dean has to say. Cas was always trying to be open with him lately, Dean knows it’s because of the struggles the last six months.

Cas dying, if briefly. Dean ALMOST dying, because of it.

Wait…

That's when Dean realizes.

Every time he’s lost someone, it's been bad. Drunk passed out on the floor, let Baby be filthy, run into hunts without any concern for his safety, bad…

The two worst times were when he lost Sammy, and when he thought he lost Cas to the Empty.

Dean must’ve been sitting there with a strange look on his face for a while cause Cas reaches out gingerly to silently ask if he’s alright. Dean gives him a half-smile and lets out the breath he was apparently holding.

“Cas, did I ever tell you about what I did in 2004 when Sam was off at Stanford and I was hunting by myself?”

Cas tilts his head in that endearing way he always does, “Not that I recall. Is something from back then troubling you now still?”

Dean clenches his jaw and runs a hand over his mouth, a nervous tic he picked up from John decades ago. “I did something similar back then to what I did in that barn. I gave up.”

Castiel’s eyes widen a bit, starting to understand what Dean is trying to say, but staying silent, to let him get this out.

Dean cracks a wry chuckle, “y’know, when you pulled me outta hell and into my body again, I was surprised you wiped the slate and got rid of all my scars.” He glances at Castiel, just for a moment, to see his reaction. It's soft but a little confused.

“At the time, I thought you would like to come back whole. A fresh start after what you went through in hell. I know now that life is about the imperfections and that the littlest things have meaning and memories. I’m sorry if I took those from you, Dean.” Cas meets Dean’s eyes with apologetic fondness and sincerity.

“Cas, it's okay. Really. Sometimes… I don't know, there's some scars I just miss sometimes.” He runs his hand along his forearm, where the self-harm scars would’ve been. “The ones that were here… they gave me a constant reminder of what almost happened. What I almost did.” Dean can feel his face getting warm as he talks about it, eyes watering up but no tears slip down his face.

Cas seems to nod along, waiting for him to continue with concerned patience. “I tried to kill myself back in ‘04. Sam was gone and doing fine without me, he had Jess. Dad was pissed at me for not getting him to stay and hunt. I had no one. I hit a low point after finding a really fucked up case about a vengeful spirit that gutted a family, father, and two sons…” Dean chokes up, as he pictures the glazed eyes of the corpses he found. A shiver runs down his spine as he can still picture it like it was yesterday.

“You saw your father and Sam in them and it brought up a lot of emotions, that’s understandable.” Cas tries to reassure him but doesn’t quite understand what Dean’s trying to get at.

“I got drunk after I salt and burned the spirit's corpse. I felt empty inside and like nobody needed me. I couldn’t save those kids and I didn't see any point in saving myself…” tears are now flowing gently down Dean’s face as he tries to push out what he needs to say, what he needs Cas to understand about this. “When you, when you said all that stuff before you left… I felt that same exact way. Even though I had Sam and Jack and then the whole bullshit after with Chuck and Lucifer and Michael… I felt so damn alone. Like I’d failed you, cause I couldn’t even save someone I love the most.” Dean’s voice goes harsh as he full-on sobs at those last few words.

The past few months since Castiel has been back, they haven’t talked about Cas's confession before being taken by the Empty, and Dean hasn’t said it aloud (even though his mind is screaming those three words every time he looks at Cas). Dean feels Cas touch his hand gently, reverently. A sob violently racks his body as he looks up into blue eyes also filled with tears.

“I’m so sorry Dean. I’m sorry.” the last word catches in his throat as Dean grabs his hand fully, intertwining their fingers.

“I know Cas. You did it to save me. You seem to keep doing that, huh? From hell, saying yes to Michael, Billie, from myself…” Dean softly strokes his thumb against Cas’s hand while tear tracks continue to stain his face. “Cas, thank you. I know I’ll never be able to pay you back for all that you’ve done for me and for Sam but… thank you.”

They lock eyes for a moment, Dean knows Cas loves him and he knows he loves Cas. He can’t think of a goddamn thing standing in the way right now. Dean releases Cas’s hand, cups his face, and brings their lips together, finally.

It takes a moment for Castiel to understand what's happening, but he quickly catches up and kisses Dean back fervently.

Cas tastes like summer rain after a long drought, like lightning and thunder all at once, like earth and something ethereal Dean can’t quite place. Cas tastes like coming home, and he is.

“Me too, Cas. Son of a bitch, I love you too.” he whispers into Cas’s mouth as Cas lets out a sob-laugh.

They pull apart for a moment, hands still against each other's cheeks. Communicating with their eyes is something they’ve mastered after 12 years, but there's something unknown now. Something new, something hopeful. And dammit if Dean isn't going to latch on to that hope.

They decide on an old western, Dean’s seen it a hundred times before. They’re leaning into each other silently watching as Dean’s eyes begin to close. He can feel Cas running his fingers against his arm, where those scars would’ve been. It's then, in the comfort of his Angel, that Dean falls fast asleep.

For the first time in 40 years, he doesn’t have nightmares. Not of yellow eyes, not of losing Sammy; not of John’s anger, not of hell; the apocalypse, Michael, Chuck, losing Cas… it all feels distant and far behind him now. When Dean wakes again, Cas still has his arms around him, eyes closed, and is running his fingers through Dean’s hair.

Dean knows all his trauma won't just vanish, but in this moment with Cas...it feels possible.

#suicide tw #suicide for ts #self harm tw #self harm for ts #abuse tw #abuse for ts #homophobic language tw #f slur tw #dean fic #dean centric fic #sad with happy ending #deancas #destiel #15x20 fix it #fix it fic #h/c #h/c fic #2k fics #fics under 3k #ao3 #my writing #destiel fic #deancas fic #castielchrysthanthemum #jey writes shit

[justanotherlifeff]

Levi Ackerman × reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, matured themes, slowburn

Warning: There's mentions and descriptions of underage rape and suicidal themes and self harm. DETAILED SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER

(Y/N) POV

Levi and I were on horseback with the military police recruit on our way to the hospital. Everything from last night still felt like a dream. I realised how wrong I was about sexual matters. Dirty thoughts spread across my mind just as I was thinking about last night and I had to fight off a blush. "We should talk to Erwin about everything. Specially after that stunt you pulled in the bar last night." I heard Levi mutter to me as I looked at him to see that he brought his horse closer to mine. "Okay" I replied shortly. The fact that he wanted to say about us to uncle Erwin was getting me nervous. Heck, I wasn't even used to calling him just by his name yet. I knew that he had better judgement though.

We were the first ones to arrive at the hospital. Hanji and Moblit were late. "Erwin, I would've killed you in coma if you woke up any later. I'm tired of the extra paperwork." Levi stated sourly to uncle Erwin as we entered the room. Uncle Erwin smiled and said, "I knew you would Levi. I am grateful for your help. I assume you and Hanji managed everything well while I wasn't there?". When the military police cadet saluted and went off, he said blandly, " Yes we managed the meetings, Hanji is still questioning Eren as he can't remember much from when he got kidnapped, I chose my new squad from the 104 trainee corps recruits, Krista Lenz is Historia Reiss, an illegitimate child from the Reiss family, (Y/N) gained popularity as humanity's strongest woman, I promoted her as second in command and I'm in a relationship with her." He sat down on a chair to the right of Uncle Erwin as he said that.

I kept standing at the foot of the bed. Uncle Erwin looked at him and me with wide eyes and I looked down to hide the blush on my face. "Well, I won't have a problem with you being in a relationship with (Y/N) as long as it doesn't effect any of your performances. I would like to speak to you alone though, (Y/N)." Uncle Erwin said just before Commander Pixis entered the room with his second in command, a red haired girl. I saluted and stood beside her when commander Pixis motioned me to be at ease.

Hanji came in there a while later and explained that the titans in wall Rose were actually people from the Ragako village. Levi seemed troubled by the fact that he had been killing humans all these times. I felt troubled too because I didn't know how to take the news either. When everyone was done discussing the details on the current situation, Uncle Erwin asked me to stay behind in the room as everyone left. Levi tried to reason with Uncle Erwin about letting him stay as well but it didn't work.

When everyone was gone, he asked with a concerned voice, "Are you sure you made the right decision?". I looked at him confidently and said, " This probably was the best decision I ever took in my entire life." "Why is that? " Uncle Erwin asked. "Well, after I got myself into this, I found myself enjoying social activities like going on horse rides. I also found out that talking about things that bother you helps you deal with the problem more efficiently. I feel comfortable with sharing things from my past with Captain Levi because he had a similar past. I felt like my life or emotions didn't matter. Now that someone acknowledges them, living feels worth more than just trying to make my parents proud." I finished.

Uncle Erwin kept looking at me in a comforting gaze and said, "I am trusting your judgement. I know how loyal Levi can be when he wants to be but he never took any woman seriously before. However, since he talked to me about it, that must mean something." he sighed and then looked at me firmly and said, "(Y/N), if he ever tries to hurt you or force you into anything, just come to me. I'll kill him". I looked at Uncle Erwin's fatherly demeanour, smiled slightly and said, "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself". Uncle Erwin smiled at my reply and said, "It's strange to see how you have grown. I'm proud of you (Y/N). Second in command and having so much reputation at this age? Even Levi couldn't do that. And you're also fighting your fears. I'm glad that you're turning into a strong woman".

" Are you done with your emotional speeches? We need to go and you need to rest before you pass out on us again" I heard Levi's voice from the door. "I'll be going. Get well soon." I said to Uncle Erwin with a smile and walked out of the door to Levi. We reached the courtyard of the hospital to find three carriages waiting for us and Hanji squad. Hanji and Moblit were waiting for us while her other squad members were already inside one of the carriages. "(Y/N)! Get in my carriage this time!" Hanji said as she scooted towards me. She wasn't cheerful as usual and was kinda gloomy. "She's not going with you Hanji." Levi said to her calmly.

"Heichou, please don't mind but I think I should go with Hanji" I told Levi making eye contact with him. He took a look at Hanji and understood that something was wrong and so, let me go with her. When we were on the carriage, I asked her, "Is everything okay?". She looked at me gloomily and said, " No. I predicted that we will have enemies inside the wall but I didn't know how strong they will be. I'll let everyone know the details when we reach the safe house."

The ride was rather quiet which was unusual as Hanji usually talks a lot. I felt worried for her because after that shopping trip, I was certainly more friendly to her than before even if she was irritating. She seemed like a brilliant woman who seemed to not try to bring up my past like most people and talked about topics I wasn't uncomfortable with except her rambling about titans which I figured she couldn't stop even if she wanted to. Of course, I wasn't exactly best buddies with her or anything since that isn't something I do but I was nice to her. Watching her so gloomy made me uneasy.

As we reached, I went in the safe house to find a scared Eren and an intimidating Levi talking about their lax cleaning job. There was hot tea in a tea pot on the table with cups arranged together. We didn't have breakfast this morning so, even if it was afternoon, we decided to have some food. Hanji was clever enough to get the supply cart going to the safe house to send a message to the safe house about making tea and breakfast for us before she went to see Erwin this morning.

The squad, including myself sat at the table with Levi. Hanji and her squad was sitting on the sofa with their tea and breakfast. Levi was talking to everyone about our next move which was to seal wall Maria and asking Armin about his plan and Eren if he can seal the wall with hardening his body. After Eren said that he'll do his best, Levi told Hanji, "Hear that Hanji? He's for it and you're the one who chooses where our experiments will take place.".

To that, Hanji replied gloomily, "Yes, ofcourse, it's my duty. As long as I'm alive..." Levi raised his eyebrows at that and Hanji explained that as much as she wants to work on capturing wall Maria, things in the walls got more complicated and that she wants Eren to lay low for now. I knew this was related to what she told me this morning. When everyone arose questions to these, she broke the news that Minister Nick is dead. Apparently she managed a place for minister Nick in the military barracks so that he would be safe. However, people from the interior military police killed him making the military police our enemies for now.

It was decided that Eren will train with Hanji. After the whole meeting was over, I had to go to my room in here, take a bath and finish Levi's paperworks as he was planning how to train Eren discretely with Hanji. I spent the whole day in my room only getting out for lunch and dinner. In the middle, Levi came to my room, we exchanged a kiss and he took most of the stacks of paperwork back to his room to help me out. Apparently I'm too slow at writing, he remarked. When I was done, it was pretty late at night. I went to bed but I couldn't sleep.

After tossing and turning for a while, I decided to try out the finger actions Levi did on me last night. Rubbing my clitoris felt good but not as much as when Levi did that. I was getting impatient and I needed that tingly feeling that I got last night before passing out. I tried fingering myself which ofcourse felt much better but got me no close to the tingly feeling. I was frustrated and without thinking, I marched off to Levi's door in my nightgown and knocked. When he opened the door and invited me in, I realised that I felt too embarrassed to ask for his help.

"What are you doing here so late? Do you want to say something important?" Levi asked me. "Uh... No it's nothing important. Sorry for bothering you." I blurted out and tried to escape the room but Levi caught me and said, "I know you (Y/N). You wont just go to someone for no reason. Say what you came to say". I blushed hard and looked down at the floor. He came closer and held my hand and said in a soft voice, "Don't be shy (Y/N). I can clearly see you blush. Don't hold it in like having constipation." "I was trying to finger myself but I wasn't getting that tingly feeling that I got before passing out. I need your help." I blurted out. "I see. So, you want me to make you cum." he replied. "That's cumming?" I asked with shock. The books, again, weren't wrong.

Levi POV

"That's cumming?" she asked me with a shocked face. Her obliviousness was so cute that it made me smile. "Yes, that's cumming" I replied. "I want you to do that again" she told me as she was blushing like crazy. I looked at her and sighed. She needed to know that I wanted to experiment more when it came to sex. Last night, I did absolutely nothing with her so that she won't be scared of the idea of sex again.

"(Y/N), what you saw the last time isn’t all there is to sex. There are a lot of things that I want to try with you if you allow me to Things I will do may hurt you just a little bit but I promise you, you will feel good. You have to trust me" I told her as I pulled her close with my hands on her waist. She hesitated a bit before saying, "Okay. I trust you". " You'll have to learn some basics before." I said as I moved away from her towards my bed and signalled her to follow me. I sat down on the bed with my legs down and said, "(Y/N), kneel down and sit between my legs.". She did what I asked her to and I took her chin in my hand and pulled it up so that she would face me to say, " (Y/N), don't ever be embarrassed to talk about sex with me. It's a normal thing that couples do and we already did it once. Don't be shy."

"I'll try" she whispered as I unbuckled my belt and pulled my dick out infront of her. "Now, suck on it. Use your tongue to lick the spot just beneath my foreskin and the top of my dick too." I instructed her. She did exactly what I asked for with really good precision and I was impressed at how good she was. She got me rock hard in no time. The way her mouth felt on me made me want to shove myself deep in her throat. I pulled her hair gently to remove her face from my dick and she looked at me as I did this.

"I'll gag you with my dick. You have to stay calm because you'll be hurt if you panic and cough. Just trust me okay? Take a deep breath" She nodded to let me know she’s ready as she had her mouth on me again. I grabbed her hair and pushed her head along my length. She was calm but I could feel the muscle spasms of her neck. I stayed there for a few seconds and then pulled her back up. She gasped for breath and when her breathing was back to normal, I repeated the process. I did this for a while till I felt like I needed to fuck her properly. I let her go and undressed her. I didn't want any foreplay because she was dripping wet and I was impatient.

I opened my own shirt off before impaling her with my dick. She hugged me tightly with a soft moan as I did that. Without giving her any time to settle to my size, I moved inside her vigorously. I felt her vagina squishing me, i felt the slimy warmth with the small bumps inside her which released volts of pleasure from my dick to all over my body. "Levi... Levi... Levi..." I heard her gasping my name, holding me tight, getting ready for an orgasm. Before she came, I pulled out. I had other plans for her. She groaned in frustration. I sat back on the bed and said, "(Y/N), sit on my lap and spread your legs". She did exactly as I said. She rested her head on my chest and I fingered her. Her soft moans turned into her gasping my name again and I removed my finger as she was reaching an orgasm again.

"NO! DON'T STOP!" she whined in frustration as I pinned her down on the bed and said while kissing her neck, "I won't let you cum if you don't trust me.". She became quiet after that and let me kiss her and bite her neck giving her hickeys. After a while, I positioned myself and got inside her again. She wasn't expecting the quick change in actions and gasped loudly. I pounded into her fast making her orgasm as she shouted my name out digging into my back. I reached my orgasm by watching her lewd expressions.

When I was done, I slumped down beside her on the bed. She was still breathing heavily from the orgasm still recovering from it. I realized that I forgot to pull out because she looked so darn good. I got up to get a handkerchief so that I could clean her down there. She laid down and watched me clean her up. When I was done, I told her that we need to take a bath. She got up and followed me to the bathroom. She snuggled close to me in the bathtub because the water wasn't warm. After we were done, she proceeded to wear her clothes. " Why are you wearing those?" I asked her. "I need to go back to my room right?" she asked with slight confusion on her face. "Stay here" I told her in a demanding voice. "Won't there be a problem if someone goes in my room and doesn't find me?" she asked. "If that happens, we will manage something. You're staying here every night from now on. It helps me sleep." I told her in a matter of fact tone.

She looked at me for a while trying to process the fact that I asked her to stay with me every night out of nowhere and then she just headed to the bed leaving her nightgown on the floor. I folded it and folded my own clothes which were on the floor too and got on the bed beside her, put an arm around her and drifted off to sleep after a few minutes

(Y/N) POV

I woke up the next morning to find a lightly snoring Levi spooning me. I enjoyed his warmth for a few moments before getting up and going to his bathroom to wash my face. When I came back, Levi was sitting on the bed waiting for me to come out. "Did you sleep properly?" I asked him. He said "Yeah I did" with an yawn. He was naked like myself and I really had to admire the view I got. His pale skin glistened in the sunlight coming out from the window beside his bed.

"Come here" he demanded while sitting on the bed. I walked to him and he motioned me to sit on his lap. I did what he asked and he pulled me close and kissed me on the lips. We made out for a while till I pushed away from him with a chuckle and mentioned, "I need to make breakfast. We really should stop now" with a smile. "Okay" he answered with a grin and slapped my ass slightly when I got up. I was shocked by his action for a moment but I realized that I kinda liked it. I wore my nightgown and went back to my room to take a bath and wear new clothes.

When I was done bathing, I wore a casual shirt with a long skirt and used a scarf to cover up the hickeys that Levi gave me last night. I went downstairs and took out some bread and got jam on it and made tea. Levi was the second person to come down and he poured his tea from the tea pot and took some bread and jam for himself. I did the same and sat on the chair closest to him. He always sat on the head of the table. Hanji and her squad, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Connie, potato girl and the guy who always used to fight with Eren came down after a while.

Hanji just took her tea and bread and commanded her team to do the same and ran off outside to "prepare for training" looking very excited. Potato girl looked excited as she saw all the bread on the table and tried to eat all of it and I had to tackle her. "Oi potato girl! I'll break your neck if you take one extra bread!" I gritted my teeth as I struggled to keep her away from the bread. "I thought everyone forgot about that!" she gave an exasperated groan. "No one forgot that, Sasha", Connie answered with a sigh. " I didn't know you had a name expect potato girl before now" I added. She stopped struggling and looked embarrassed about her alias.

As we were eating, Eren and that guy, who's name apparently was Jean, got into a fight again. Levi motioned me to stop them and I just walked between them and held both of their punches with both my hand. "Stop acting like uncivilized baboons. I expected you to be a bit more matured than this, Eren. You are in the special operations squad so act like it." I glared at both of them and Eren just stormed off from the room with Mikasa running after him. Jean on the other hand sat back on the table giving occasional glances on my way.

"(Y/N), meet me in the clearing in 10 minutes. I need to see if your hand to hand combat is as good as before. And I think you need to learn how to use a knife. As second in command, you need to know all sorts of self defence techniques as possible specially in a situation like this. And say Eren that Hanji is itching to do experiments on him." Levi told me as he got up from his chair. "Yes Heichou! I'll be there in 10 minutes!" I answered standing up as Levi left the room without a word.

When I was going to get Eren, I heard Jean shout out, "(Y/N)! Wait!" I stopped and looked back at him as he stumbled towards me, "Uh, well, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for being so immature back then. It was stupid" he mumbled with a nervous smile. "It's okay." I replied shortly before turning back again. Again, he shouted, "Wait!" I turned to him, looking uninterested. "Uh, I just wanted to say that your hair looks nice" he chuckled nervously after saying that. "Okay. Anything else?" I told him looking absolutely uninterested by whatever he had to say. "Uh, no. Good luck while training" he said as I was marching away exactly when he mentioned that he had nothing more to say.

I went to Eren, who was sitting outside with Mikasa and said him that Hanji is waiting for him in the clearing and went there with them as Levi instructed me to go there too. Levi took me a bit far from there and gave me a pocket knife. "You need to be able to kill people with this without a scratch. If you can bring me down once, I'll consider you to be ready. I learnt some techniques from Kenny and I'll teach those to you. You remember what I said about him right? You still won't be able to bring him down if he’s given a pocket knife and you’re given a sword. Then again, you won't ever see him" he said as he proceeded to show me everything he knows.

It was evening when I was done with training. I went to take a bath and after bathing I had to go to the watch towers as it was my turn to keep a watch. I took a bath, washed the bruises from my training session with Levi. I lost some hold on how good I was because I didn't practice hand to hand combat for a while. The fact that he had a knife didn't help either. I had a few minor cuts on my hands and legs too. When I was done, I went to the watch tower and climbed up there. Jean was sitting there and he stood up as I came.

"That shorty really hurt you didn't he? I hope he gets eaten by titans someday." he grunted. "Well, it was required. You can't learn things by being completely unscratched... And, I hope he never gets eaten by titans. We need a leader like him." I answered earnestly and kinda pissed by his comment. However, I hoped that he wouldn't get eaten by titans for other reasons too. Jean definitely didn't expect this reply. "How do you not hate him?" he asked with a surprised tone. "I just don't. He does what needs to be done. I don't see anything to hate in him" I replied calmly.

"So, you can like someone who beats the shit out of you?" he scoffed a bit angrily. I didn't understand why he was angry though. "I can like someone who can teach me things to become stronger and not die. He makes us do these because he doesn't want us to die. I think it's a nice thing to do." I answered to that trying to continue being calm. "We kill titans! You're humanity's strongest woman! Why would you need extra training for beating humans?" he questioned with an exasperated groan. "Because humans are worse! The worst thing a titan can do is kill you but humans can do things that makes you wish you were dead all your life!" I lashed out with frustration because of his nagging.

He became quiet after I said that. He probably understood that the last thing I wanted was him to be there and so he got away. I didn't feel bad about lashing out on him because he was being completely unreasonable and I didn't like the way he talked about Levi. The sky was getting darker by the minute. It was a cloudy night. I heard someone getting up to the tower and noticed that it was Mikasa. "Hey" she said as she sat beside me. "Hey" I sighed. I was in a bad mood because of Jean.

"Who gave you the hickeys?" she asked. My mood shifted from angry to sheer panic as I looked at her and said, "What are you talking about?". "Well, I could see something black underneath that scarf." she said in a matter of fact tone. I didn't know how to reply to that. "Was it Eren?" she asked me with a cold stare. "Eren is like my younger brother" I replied with a disgusted look. She calmed down as I said that. "Well, if it wasn't Eren, I don't really care who it was." she answered with a smile. "You really love Eren don't you?" I asked her with a sympathetic smile. She sighed, "I wish he understood..." I didn't know how to console her.

"So, now that you got out of your 'not getting emotionally attached' ban, why are you still so cold to everyone? I heard you shouted at Jean for looking out for you?" she asked me. "It's just how I always was. I never really cared about what others felt because of my attitude. You heard about that Jacob incident from the newspapers right? My parents were scared of me after that. It hurt me because I cared about them so I decided to stop caring. Now I'm making the same mistake again and I just can't stop myself because he just doesn't judge me for what I am" I sighed to her.

"Well, I'm living to protect Eren and Armin. I'm not a strong willed person like you but I can say one thing. These people in the special operations squad, they mean a lot to me. I'll try my best to save all of them if their lives are in danger and I don't regret it. They care back too. You should know how good it feels when someone cares about your life right?" she asked. "Yeah I know." I muttered trying to weigh the depth of her words.

She was right. Now that I conquered my fears about caring, why should I still keep myself separated? It's true that I'm not particularly friendly but that doesn't mean I couldn't care. Isn't that what Levi does? Isn't that why he is so strong? He wants to protect everyone too and that makes him stronger. Wouldn't that make me stronger too? I remembered the promise I made to myself years back. "I'll avoid being hurt". To avoid being hurt, you have to be strong. To be strong, you need to be hurt in the first place. I made my decision. "I guess I'll try to care" I told Mikasa with a small smile. She nodded at me and said, "It's for your own good.". I replied, "I know".

Levi POV

I heard the conversation between (Y/N) and the gloomy brat. I had to agree with her. Caring about my teammates got me where I am. After Mikasa left, I went up the watch tower to sit with (Y/N). "I'm getting a lot of visitors today" she stated as I sat down beside her. "Well, I was here when you were talking to that gloomy brat. I decided not to interrupt because she was right. You do have to create a bond with the team. When you care, you want to fight harder for them and that makes you more efficient" I told her. "I figured that's how you do it." she replied. The sky was clearing and there were stars filling the sky. It reminded me of my last night with Farlan and Isabelle.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just imagine the music from that scene in the No Regrets anime when Levi was looking at the sky with Farlan and Isabelle.]

"The sky looks beautiful" (Y/N) said, her face showing her admiration. She looked beautiful in the moonlight. I put an arm around her and answered "Yeah it does". "I cried with I saw the sky for the first time after coming up from the underground." she whispered. "I smiled when I saw the sky for the first time" I told her as I was reliving the memory. I wasn't gonna let her die too.

To be continued...

Taglist:@reality-is-often-disappointing, @kingtamakimurder

#levi smut #levi aot #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #levi x fem!reader #levi×reader #levi ackerman #captain levi

[msladyrosa]

I'm here to tell a story that my heart is screaming at me to tell.

This is me. I fucking hate myself, just as much as I fake loving me. I don't think I've ever been this contempt as I was in these photos. I'm awkward and I fake confidence by throwing sarcastic and snarky comments. My coping mechanism consists of lying and just hiding behind my fake me. I've created a confident, pretty and delusional front that isn't me, but it's just as real as the raw version. My raw is ugly and disgusting and I hate it. I hid it and for the love of the non existent God there is, I wish I didn't have the raw side. I write in my skin, because if I went back to cutting, then I would no longer have pretty skin that people can love. I love eating, but I don't do it, because of the fear of losing my 36,28,42 measurements. I'm suicidal, but heavens forgive if I make a joke about it in order to cope with my insane itch to make my skin purple. My arm hair is soft and the last time I shaved I was scared that someone might see the thin, white lines that are underneath. My body is sexy as fuck, but Heavens forgive me if I actually feel comfortable in it. Thoughts of "they'll be fine without me" or "it's better if I'm not here" are drowned by the words I told someone who was a suicidal as me, "killing yourself would not make the pain disappear, you're just passing it on to someone else". I'm such a fucking hypocrite, or is it just a twisted way of actual introspection? What is wrong with the way I walk funny because I'm dizzy for the lack of food is that people notice. Oh great deity in the sky, please allow them to notice, but forgive them is they dare to ask what's wrong. I look happy and relaxed in the photos, hell yes, but not I'm an anxious mess that's writing this in the middle of a mental breakdown. Parents are never the one's to blame, no forgive them for not validating their children's emotions and struggles. No, strict parenthood creates strong-willed, rightful and successful people that think of themselves as worthless, weak, pathetic excuses. Oh we lie, and we lie good. Ask actors if they had strict parents... You'll find none, why? Because strict parents will inforce you an internalized fear of failure outside of social norms and acting is "a waste of time" to their standards. Support doesn't come from the right sized bra, but it sure as fucking hell is welcoming to be held and somehow relived from a burden you didn't fucking asked for. I was so happy ya'll. I was in cloud nine. That day I had a date with a guy I like that I thought was way out of my league, I lied my way through his pseudo intellectual remarks and he believed it.

We know how to lie so good and so true that eventually you lose track of your actual motive to do it in the first place. Society wants you perky and pretty, fuck yeah they do. How do I get all perky and pretty when I only see disgusting, overdosed surroundings? It's easy to get worried when you finally realize somethings not right. It wasn't right to be kneeling at someone's feet screaming a nasty and raspy wail of pain. 10 years it took me to fucking do that and yet nothing really changed. Now I'm just looked at with pity and the quizzical look that can only mean "when is this one gonna blow up again?" Oh, honey, I won't, you're just worried that you're just realizing this now. It's easy to be outside and just stay that way.

I was so happy, all the time. I was forced to lie in order to move forward. You love me? Yeah, as long as you earn it. Are you proud? Sure, as long as you don't fail. Am I okay because I feel like this? Well, it's fine as long as you keep it in. It's beautiful. "As long as..." my reality had always been subjected to a condition, and clause, a fucking constant reminder that I have to earn my happiness. I have to earn my own idea of self worth that is diluted through your standards. I have to earn reassurance from the people I surround myself. I must assume the best case scenario but I can't be surprised when it's the worst outcome.

Having loved a mad human made me realize how flawed I am. I was happy. So, so happy I forgot I wasn't. I tortured myself through endless nights of doubt, starvation with a full kitchen. Sleepless nights contemplating self harm and then decided against it because I had work and the cute client at work would see how damaged I was. I tortured myself with the idea of loneliness in a see of people, only to realize I've been in that see long enough that I grew a tail and fins. I was plagued my guilt because I didn't love them, but when exactly did it go from happy to uttermost bullshit? I was so happy I forgot what sadness was.

I was so happy it started hurting. Hurting when I failed to do something. It was excruciating when I was not able to buy a car because I had noticed I had spent my money of pleasing those who swore they'd provide for me. I was in pain when I showered and instead of singing, I just blasted music loud enough so that nobody heard my hyperventilating bitch ass. I was in so much pain that I welcomed it as my way of happiness. I loved my pain, because I've had it my whole life.

I had it when I was in forth grade and in order to fit in I had to go a sneak around to kiss a boy, and I didn't want to. It was there when I was accused of fighting other girls, but in reality I was trying to establish my self worth, so I was punished. In fifth grade I loved a boy so much I had written beautiful words to describe how much I loved his smile, and so he said I was stalking him and he got scared; 2 months later I was in a shrinks chair talking about it; fast-forward to last night, that same boy explained to me how much he wanted to fuck me now that he had lost weight. Middle school was terrible. Seventh grade, I was constantly degrading myself because another pretty blonde chick was only my friend when she could laugh through me. I insulted a perfectly great teacher because she noticed my self destructive behavior. Eighth grade came and I was lost with a blonde boy. He was beautiful and I was not. He was friends with the girl that swore fielty to me and he chose someone else and because he chose the pretty pale skin on someone else, I settled for the kid that wantedto finger me in the bleachers during recess. Ninth grade came and I was failing classes, parents were strict and hurtful, but they aren't to blame for my shortcomings. That's when I found myself in the arms of the pretty blonde thing I had fallen for. The pretty girl had him in public, I could only have him when we snuck around and he would hold me and kiss me like holding on to his life line. I was letting him touch me, but my self hatred didn't know no boundaries so I suck to my knees and gave my first blowjob at the top of staircase wearing only a lazy purple bra and the school uniform and the shame I'll forever wear because I did it without wanting to, but because I was expected to.

I was so happy to be out of there, that I ended up sinking deeper into my lie. I was smart, new and vulnerable. That's how I met the wholesome boy I called my first boyfriend who was nice and respectful, but he was as ugly as they come. I was a queen to him, but he was looking more like the ogre on the fairy tale and there came my vanity, my ego, my selfishness. I was brutal and I couldn't care less. High school started with a bang with the boy I played with, and when he got to close to my actual raw person, I kicked him out with a bang and he cried. I just stood there not knowing how to react, so I just went on to the next person I could lead on and play. Junior year I knew was difficult, and a black boy with a nice boy and a promising basketball future came around, I once again craved approval and degraded myself to it. That's how I ended up sneaking around 10 minutes before my parents picked me up. In the second floor, I'd found myself again on my knees, and expected to give a blowjob in exchange for attention, and like before, I was hidden, and I expected to be I had tears in my eyes, but because of my shame. Senior year came in, and the black boy with the attractive body was replaced with another, but this one only had pretty eyes and the promise of spoiling me with his family's money. Once again, I said yes when he said he wanted me to be his girlfriend, at least this time I was not hidden, but I was back in the cycle and I ditched my best friend in a movie theater so that I would be in the backseat on a Dodge, sucking my pseudo boyfriend's dick with tears on my eyes, not becauseofhis size, but becausethe disgust towards myself. Like before, I was expected to do so, and so I did.

Heavens above forgive the religion to blame women for sin and lust, but instead punish us for the boys who couldn't keep their dicks to themselves. The end of senior year came, and I was relieved, but then I fell for the guy my parents liked. Humble background, similar interests, and a promise of stability. I was ditched because for him I was a whore and his friends told him so, I accepted the insults and insinuations.

I was so happy, I forgot the rest. College was great and a religious nut job, a platonic love, a semi smart dipshit with the complex of being over everyone in experience, a quiet mature man that treated me with decency, the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #1 and the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #2, later, here I am.

I was so happy in these pictures, I had no idea was contemplating my own disappearance. I write this with migrane, blue ink from a ballpoint in my thighs, with nostalgic memories of moments where my mind wasn't this crowded. I was so happy it hurt. I guess that my logic dictates that happiness is painful and that my pain can bring me joy, but fuck I was so happy.

I had everything. I was pretty, I was smart, I was important. I'm still all those things, but right this very second, I'm happy, and painful so. Heavens above forgive for I have sinned...

I dared to fail... I sinned

I dared to fall into lust... I sinned

I dared to judge... I sinned

I fucking dared to wake up every miserable day... I had sinned.

I dared to be painfully happy... I sinned

I lied... and so that's my greatest sin of all.

[obsessionsposts]

Deadly Thorns

Warnings: Violence/mention of tortures/angst /yandere/ kidnapping etc...

Finally, the day has come to escape this wretched place where monsters lurked to swallow the light or in this case, you.

The monster was one of your allies until the darkness consumed him and turn him against you.

' Don't look at me like that,подсолнух. You know I did that to protect you from outside world you know how cruel it could be,Da'

Remembering the first day or more likely kidnapped all the way to Moscow,Russia.

Teeth gritting together,eyes burning with rage, your mind itching to make the man ,who used to be a dear friend of yours, to suffer and pay for the heinous tortures he made you partake in just because he loves you.

Dedication?

Obsession?

Disease?

Or maybe all of three above,you couldn't help but want to snap at Ivan for ruining your life as he killed everyone you truly cared for in front of you as punishment for trying to escape on earlier months.

' That's what happens when you don't listen to me,возлюбленная. Why won't you listen and love me like I do, you ungrateful brat', as he knocked you out cold and locked you down in the basements for days without food,water,and clothes to warm your self up.

At some point you contemplated suicide to see the monster of a human being suffer,cry, and be damned to loneliness for all eternity without someone to love and care for him.

Here you are, years after being the captive of Ivan today is the day you will end his tyrannical regime against you and escape him to gain access to the world and get help from other nation.

It's been six months appeasing to Russia's delusions.

Unsurprisingly, he began to treat you nicely,start to coddle, and melted at every superficial signs of affection you display.

'Oh, you want to cuddle?, come closer let me give you the biggest hug of the century', Ivan enveloped you in a bone-crushing hug,but it was warm and full of love.

Little did that poor fool knew that you were using to escape him.

Frankly, you felt bad for him for he used to be your friend and ally,but then again he took everything from you.

Freedom?

Loved ones?

Innocent lives at your expense?

Not today,Not tomorrow,Never again.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

You found yourself for the first time in years to be outside in the snowy field.

Watching the snowflake landed on your hand is a nice experience; but you don't have much time til Ivan discover you're not there and god knows what will happen when he will catch you.

You will not let that happen.

Years of strive,

Years of misery,

Won't lead to nothing.

Afterwards, you contacted the best person who could get you out of this sticky situation America,known as Alfred to you.

For odd reason, you get the feeling you're not alone and someone was there with you, but you couldn't pinpoint who is it.

'Please whatever deity there is,don't let it be Ivan,or that crazy sister of his', you mused as the silhouette of Russia's mansion begins to disappear as you fared away from it hastily and cautiously unaware of the deadly eyes of the sliverette.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

"What do you mean......they're gone, you three were told to keep a watch on them while I deal with that pesky capitalist,but what do you do? You let them escape under your sight",

Ivan response was cold,collected,and even calm.

But the baltics knew better than that.

He was angry,furious,and enraged to the point that smoke were appearing from his body orifices.

What did he do?

Smile at them.

"I'll be going to get them back,you three look after the house,also tonight I'll be speaking with you,do you understand? or do you need me to bash your miserable skulls to let you understand", Came to be his response which made them shiver in their own boots as they obeyed him.

Unaware of thier actions, the Baltic let you escape to get back at Russia for a centuries of mistreatment and they hope the best for you.

Sighing they all went back to work.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

"Okay so that's where you were all this time, I knew it that commie was behind this all the time,but did anyone belive me? Nooope. But worry not,for the hero will come and help you,also stay put as I come pick you up Okie?", buzzed the phone with the all familiar jovial voice of Alfred.

"Don't worry,alfred, I could hold my grounds against Russia this time ,unlike what happend the first time, for I know his weak points and brought weapons for extra-caution"

"Atta my friend,and good luck you need it especially with that basterd commie", as your phone charger went off.

You groaned as you stayed at some cheap motel to avoid any recognition.

Laying back at the bed you begin to think about Ivan.

God, Ivan. You know I would've loved you if loved me normally.

But Instead, What did you do?

Kidnap me.

Kill anyone who interacted with me.

Torture me in different methods of tortures each time ,yet you call it a punishment cause I didn't reciprocated your feelings,or for disobeying you.

Once you were great Ivan, but what did happen to you

Unaware as tears began to roll down your cheeks as you realize you lost once a great friend to the darkness that seems to feed of your agony.

Nonetheless,you must keep determined to escape this cold hell.

Suddenly you heard a thud downstairs of the motel.

How did he ? No matter,I must leave. Good case scenario is I leave that damn motel in one piece. Worst case scenario is I shoot myself to never let him touch me again.

" (Y/n),(Y/n). I know you're here, come to me and everything would be forgiven I know you're scared,but if you come now there is no reason to be afraid. Otherwise I'll give you a reason to be afraid,Da?", the all to familiar voice of a mad man resonated through the motel.

Never again...

You jumped through the windows and landed on the ground with a few scraps on your feet.

No phone....

No food.....

A manic tailing me.... things couldn't get any better for me.

You looked back to see Russia hurling at you.

But he forgets one things you are always one step ahead as you aim your Magnum Research BFR [a gift from America before the kiddnaping fiasco].

"You've angered me plenty today First,you run away from your husband then you dare point a gun infront of me do tell me who poisoned your mind with lies against me? Is it the baltics?Or the capitalist pig? Maybe even the English basterd?", ivan replied huskily as he watched you with a wicked smile comparable to of that of the Cheshire cat.

"No one did,but you. You have killed the old me with your love only to give birth to the new me who won't be bound by your lies as well as tricks and by no means I am going to go back with you again,so you could treat me as a personal pet for pleasure. I had enough,come any closer and I don't hesitate to shoot", you spat all your pent up rage coming back to bite your tormentor.

It did effectively making him more than enraged.

Good. The more reason to take advantage of him in such state whereas he can't think a straight.

"It's adorable how you think you can fight me I'll have to fix this attitude of yours when I get you back,plus here meet an old acquaintance of yours the metal pipe of pain you remember him don't you", as soon as he was about to knock you out with his pipe ; you shot his right arm and left leg which elicited a grunt of pain and he fell down which gave you a few minutes to run away in which you did.

Ivan looked at you madly as he watched your shadow fade away from his view as he punched his fist toward the ground.

"черт возьми, Soon enough you will be one with mother Russia and we together for all eternity argh", Ivan smile thoroughly at the thought as he held his scarf against his wounds.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

"Is that really you (N/n)? I can't really believe it", Alfred brought close to him and held you tight.

"Long time no see, tell me how are you and the others are fairing",you replied raspy drained of all energy reasonably after what occurred today.

"Good, you don't know how long we have searched for you we thought you're dead but thank god it isn't the case and gotta say you handled the commie pretty well nothing less to expect from you,now let's go", he offered his hand to get on his copter.

Which you accepted the offer and let him leas you to the copter.

It was all worth it in the end,

Despite the damaged psyche you are finally free from your cage,

From the darkness that kept you there,

From the monster you once called a friend.

Your tyranny has ended, Ivan.

It's a shame how things ended like this.

In another reality, we could've been friends or maybe lovers and soon to be wed.

But you made your decision, to be a monster.

And I made mine, to be a flying bird nothing would hold me down.

Goodbye,Ivan.

Til death bring us together.

A/N: For your patience, you deserved a one-shot instead of a short story or a headcanon. Hope I delivered well and thank you for requesting. Till next time 😊

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere fandoms #yandere hetalia #yandere russia

[orangeautumnalwind]

Tw; suicide

When animals are suffering and in pain and we have no way of healing them and they won't get better on their own we normally consider the humane thing to do to be to kill them in order to end their suffering because they can't.

Some people also make the jump to *and why won't we let humans choose this when they are physically suffering and in immense physical pain for which they have tried every cure and none have worked*.

And yet, we talk all the time about how we should talk about and care about mental pain and suffering in the same way we talk about and care about physical pain and suffering.

And yet, no one ever considers suicide a valid option for people who are undergoing immense mental pain and suffering. It is never seen as a good enough reason. We talk so much about how *it might get better* and of course it might, but it also might not. And I really don't see why society has so much of a problem with people who have been suffering for years or decades saying *I'm not going to keep looking for a cure that so far has not worked, I just want to end my suffering* like that in and of itself is the bad thing. The suffering of someone with a mental illness is so much worse than their suicide.

There is a good chance I will end up dying by suicide, simply because this world really isn't for me and it doesn't want me here. I was born too early to have a worthwhile life as a trans woman. I am not a confident or strong enough person to enjoy the world as an openly trans woman. It's not even that I can't be confident or strong, I can be, but I don't enjoy being it. It's work, conscious effort day after day, and it's a mask, pretty much the same mask I had to wear when masquerading as a cis guy, and I've had enough of that mask. I have one more option I want to try before I will finally opt out of all future suffering, which is finishing every surgery I need to go stealth, and then moving somewhere no one knows me, and restarting my life as a cis woman who doesn't want to talk about her past. Doing this would obviously involve lying to everyone I will ever meet. If it works I might even get married, adopt kids with someone, and raise them together, and never, not even in my death bed, talk honestly about my life before I moved there, or tell them I am trans.

But I don't want to live my life as a lie either, so I don't think that is gonna work out. And when it doesn't I don't want people to cry because I killed myself, or feel like they should have done something to prevent me from ending it, to call me to persuade or convince or guilt trip me into staying alive. I'm not expecting none of them to be sad, but the sadness should be a *I'm sad that she couldn't find happiness* not a sadness that I am now gone. Because if I do end it it will only be because gone was a happier option for me than here.

[slytherdor-life]

TW: venting about my whole ass panic attack. So yeah

So I'm literally in tears rn. My acne flared up really bad. My nose is to big. My lips are too small. My hair just won't work with me. I may be skinny isn't good when your face looks like God hit you 1000000000000000000000x with the ugly stick.

My brother decided to say, "It's not that bad. Why are you upset?"

Easy to say when you have every female in the world falling at your feet.

Like all my siblings got the attractive gene & my genes decided I'd be the ugly one.

My teeth are messed up to. Not lined up, under bite. Got scars lining my body so that's another flaw to add.

Why would anyone decide to date me.

The guy I was dating kill himself. I would to if I was dating me.

He didn't even leave my ugly ass a note. Such a shame ig.

Got ADHD, Bipolar, ODD, Generalized Anxiety, Depression, PTSD, & now possibly falling on the Autism spectrum.

Ugly af

Annoying af

Always fall in everyone's shadows. Only this person's younger sister or this persons older sister maybe this other person's daughter.

Can't even make a name for myself. Sometimes I wish I'd disappear. I was suppose to have a twin. If she made it maybe it'd be better.

School is stressing me out. I somehow passed last year. Kind of tired.

I'm just tired.

No matter how hard I try or how hard I work. Nothing will ever be enough.

Not for me, my mum, my siblings, my friends, my teachers, no one. I'm never enough.

I have a panic attack my mum decides the cry.

What gives her the right. She looks great. She's witty, kind, independent, knows what she wants. So why is she crying. Literally nothing happened.

You're crying cause I'm upset & making everyone else upset. Literally not my fault I'm having a panic attack while looking in the mirror.

Hell now I've started starving myself. Afraid of weight gain ig

I lie. Say how cool my family is. How I don't care whether I am skinny or not. Lie that I'm not ugly or pretty. I lie. Straight through my teeth.

I pretend my life is so great.

No.

I never have been close with my mum. I've always wanted to. Seems everytime I start to I get pushed back.

My mother is proud of all my other siblings.

I gave up on art. I was like 12 or 13. I went to show my mother a drawing.

My mother told me to shut up as my older brother & sister were gonna sing. She couldn't even wait one second to take a glance.

When she decided to look. After praising her oh so talented children. She just said my drawing was cool.

I flushed that drawing down the toilet.

I've decided that I'll just not try.

I'm 16 atm. I try to impress my mother. Be a oh so good kid.

Never one glance.

Where did I go wrong.

My ex boyfriend gave me hope. Maybe someone could love me. Someone could find a way to look past all my flaws & see some beauty that I just couldn't see.

But the rope he hung from could say different.

No goodbye, no letter. Nothing.

Last words were him breaking up with me in a group chat without notifying me .

Having to find out through someone he hates.

Someone who he despises knew.

Then when I joined. He just ridiculed me. Put me down. Kept saying cruel words. Just to break up. Then leave this world.

I know I wasn't the cause. That his world came to an end. But why?

I've only ever looked at the bright side. Wanted to help others. Sit by those who hurt. Helping others gave me purpose. Hope that maybe I one day could.

My mother's name is Hope though. Even she couldn't believe in me. How ironic. The woman who gave birth to me is named Hope. Yet any hope she could've had in me never met my eyes.

I would leave the world as well. I guess I just like the challenge. Tried to leave a couple times. Each one a fail. For 6 minutes & few seconds. My heart stopped. I was at peace. Then my heart decides to beat again. Body decides to work again.

October 23rd 2018. Was my near death experience. Was great honestly. Sadly death just won't take me. No matter how much I've tried. Even death doesn't want me.

How ironic. Death takes everyone. Yet not me.

Take people I care about. Not me though.

I gave up on attempting suicide. Never leads me to death.

I just kind of exist now.

Mother won't let me get a job. Won't let me pierce even my ears.

She says she cares yet victim cards Trump all.

I weirdly love my family though.

My mother saved me from going to foster care. Plus my father was abusive. The memories that'll never leave haven't grown because of her.

Yet it seems I really was just part of the package.

To care for any of the others. I was just the con.

She showed up to my football practice in 8th grade.

She looked so proud & congratulated me on knocking guys 10x my height down. For once she was proud.

One of my matches she showed up to. I was knocked down by a kid. Are team lost. Any hope she had in me. I could see disappear.

She lectured me after. Saying how I could've done better.

I quit the team. Coach said that I shouldn't. It just wasn't as full filing when the person who gives birth to you. Well the one you spend all your time trying to make proud. Look at you with cold eyes.

I had a choir concert not even a year ago. I did the whole thing. Hoping maybe she walk in. See that I was overcoming my fear of singing on stage.

She texted me once I was done. She waited outside the entire time.

Didn't take the time to come in. I thought maybe she was doing something. Shopping or riding around. No. She just sat in the parking lot.

It hurts. I lost my childhood. Lost someone I loved. Lost any hope of my mum being proud. Lost my pride. Lost any love for myself. Lost any meaning for my life.

I've given up. Won't kill myself.

Wouldn't give myself the satisfaction. Plus I've tried to many times. Shot my shot. Missed everyone besides one that I rimmed & missed.

Guess I'll live just to survive. Then die peacefully in life.

Maybe I'll die saving someone. That'd be good to. Be remembered as someone who saved someone .

Well thx for reading ig

#abuse tw #suicide tw #tw cursing #tw swearing #death tw #tw eating disorder #tw mentions of death #tw mental breakdown #tw mental trauma #tw mental hospital #tw mental illness #tw mental health #tw ptsd #tw panic attack #tw wrists #tw relapse #tw rant #tw vent #tw unhealthy coping mechanisms #tw near death #tw implied noncon #tw illness #tw angst #tw death #tw depressing stuff #tw depression #tw family #tw hate #csa tw #tw negative thoughts

[imxenelle]

Farewell Kim Jonghyun

To be honest, I don't know how to start this blog but I will try my best to make my point clear. And I hope people will take their time to read this. This might be a bit long but please.. Bare with me. Thank you.

I am someone at the age of 19 years old. Eversince I was a child, I had depression. What triggered my depression was watching my family breaking apart and losing a family member because of depression. I was at the age of 4, an age where I shouldn't understand yet what was going on. I should've focused on playing with kids or do stuff like a normal kid should do, but I did not. Instead, I was by my mothers side as I watched her cry every night. I took care of her whenever I could as I wiped away her tears and brought her tissues and a glass of water. I was also always alert when she was about to collapse. I kept her cellphone ready in order to call for help or was ready to run out to our neighbors eventhough it was in the middle of the night. To make it short, I did not acknowledge my depression until I was in elementary. I went to a psychiatrist almost 2 times a week.

Now that I am 19, I've recently realized as to why my depression comes back every now and then. It is not because of my past. I accepted years ago that my family wouldn't be the way it used to be. So I do know that this is not the main reason for my mental issue today.

It was around the first week of September 2017 when I realized, after all these years, that I was the reason behind my depression. I'm the main cause. I am pressured by my own self. I exhaust my own self without noticing it all those years.

After I realized this, the whole reason behind my anxiety and depression, I couldn't stop myself from hurting myself anymore. I was tired of myself once again. On the 23rd September, I tried to overdose myself. 7-8grams, but nothing happened to me, not even after I fell asleep. I got mad. I was annoyed. I couldn't understand why I was still breathing and alive. But I eventually moved on and well, went on with my life.

I'm doing well today.

The point about this blog is, Jonghyun and I have the same reason as to why we're suicidal and have depression. Please, I am not claiming that we have the exact reason nor do I try to claim something else. We are both different people with different feelings and emotions.

I've read an article where Jonghyun's letter was posted and I was extremely shocked hearing about him being depressed about himself. I don't know how to express myself nor do I know if I'm even saying this right. I felt like I understood where he was coming from when he said that people should not judge ones' depression, mostly if you have no clue what he or she is going through. Also when a person was questioning the reason of Jonghyuns' depression. You cannot tell a person what was triggering his mental issues when he himself knew it already.

Having depression myself, I know what a struggle it can be. So I am very thankful to the people who are there for me and never giving up on me. So I hope people out there has at least someone they can trust and depend on whenever they need someone. If you think you don't have anyone, you can always message me. I'm always ready to make friends and be there for someone who needs a shoulder to lean and cry on.

And before I end this blog, I would like to copy paste something I wrote on my IG. I wrote it into 3 parts.

1. "It's all in your mind" "Don't let it go to your head" "Think positive" "Those feelings aren't permanent" "Others have it worse than you"

Please, please stop using those words when someone opens up to you about their problems. About their loud cries in their head. Their silent tears that scream for help. Stop. Please stop promising to a person who has anxiety/depression that you're there for them when you just end up leaving them with their thoughts. With their killing thoughts that no one hears but them. Please stop offer help if you refuse to listen but just put your own words into our mouths. You may reflect upon our situation but please do not talk for us. We may have the same situation but we do not have the same feelings. Please do not compare us with others as we are all different from each other. We do know that people out there may have it worse than us but we do not need it to be rubbed under our noses. We know. Please understand that we are troubling with ourselves. We do not mean to bother others so we keep it to ourselves. But the more we keep it to ourselves, the more people get affected, isn't it? I apologize for that. But please know that I am trying my best to do better, to be okay, to be happy. Please do understand as I try to help myself to be okay because I know no one can help me except myself. But the problem is, I do not know how to help myself anymore. Please do understand that talking may be tiring for us by now as we try to explain over and over again. It's not like we refuse to talk. It's not like that. Please don't force us to talk. It's just really tiring now that we just shut down and stay quiet and just cry. Please understand that anxiety and depression isn't just a feeling of being scared and sadness. It's not. It's something we cannot explain once it hits you. Please do not tell us to think of something positive. It is not like we do not want to. We do try to think positive. But once it hits us, our mind goes blank. It shuts off. Yes, sometimes we do not think but just feel. So please stop saying it is all up in our mind. We do not feel the pain in our mind but in our heart.

2."Try harder" "Your 'trying' isn't enough" "Don't try, do it" "Trying won't hurt"

It ain't easy the way it sound like. Please do not tell us that we should do something in order to make ourselves busy. To make our mind busy. It's because it'll make sound like we aren't trying. But we do. We do know that you mean only good but at the back of our mind it'll still bother us to the point that our mind starts to think "I am trying!" God damn it, we are trying. I am trying. Putting these words into my own mind and mouth is like adding salt to a fresh wound. I take the salt from you and pour it unto my own open flesh so it'll hurt less, but it doesn't. Please do know that we are trying our best to be okay. We try our best to stay happy. Because who doesn't wants happiness in their life? We want it too. We want it to last, even if it would be for a single day. So we try our best to do all the things we love to do, even if it'll takes a risk and a step beyond the line we're scared to cross. Taking the risks in life gave us sometimes the taste of happiness but coming at the end of the day, the same feeling comes back, even if we do not want to welcome it back. It's because IT welcomes us back.

So please, do not tell us to try harder because we do not try. We DO our best.

3. "You're being too dramatic" "Attention seeker" "It'll be okay"

Please stop saying that we're being too dramatic and that we're attention seekers. It hurts. Emotions and feelings aren't something to joke about. Please understand that we rather choose to keep it to ourselves instead of telling it to others. Keep it away even from our friends and loved ones. Sometimes they do not understand us either. Please understand that it hurts the most as we cry in our own 4 walls as we try not to make a sound in order for people not to hear us. It hurts. It hurts when loved ones don't understand. But it hurts the most when they blame themselves because we feel this way. We do not want to blame anyone but ourselves. Our own mind. Please do not talk down on us as you say "it'll be okay". People like I hold unto your words in hope you are saying the truth but cry in pain as these were words were filled with no sincerity but air. We do not blame you for these words that slip from your lips but our idiotic selves for trusting and holding unto something that can't promise us anything. Please do not tell us it'll be okay when you can't see your own tomorrow. Please do not tell us it'll be okay when we've been told this now since years. We are still not okay. Please stop giving us false hope that were meant to be unintentional.

ㅡㅡㅡ

I am done. I'm sorry if this was a long blog but I would like to give my sincerest thank you if you read it till here!

Please message me if you like to talk to me! You can open up to me about anything. I'm happy to make friends! And please remember to spread love. I love you peeps so much! Always take care of yourself! ❤

Lastly, I would like to end this blog with a short message to our Jonghyun.

.

Dear Jonghyun,

How are you? Are you doing well? I do hope you're well and safe. I believe that you're in a place now where you can rest your tired soul. I would like to thank you for being my very first ultimate bias. Thank you and SHINee for bringing me in into the Kpop world. Thanks to you, I found something I can hold unto whenever I feel down and happy of course. Thank you for being my joy and inspiration and motivation. Thank you for sharing your blessings with us. Your beautiful voice with your sweet and kind heart. Thank you for being you Jonghyun. I am sorry if I'm still crying as I write this but please know that I love you so much and that I miss you. I am sorry if I tried to run away from my own sadness and reality. I tried to run and build a wall from the reality that was right in front of me. I was scared to face it. I couldn't believe it and refused to accept it. It was too painful for me to let you go just yet. But knowing that you're in a safe place now, I try to let go. I'm slowly letting go of you. But it doesn't mean I will forget you. I will never forget you Jonghyun. You will always have a place in my mind and heart. You did well.

Rest in Peace Kim Jonghyun.

#kim jonghyun #kim kibum #choi minho #lee taemin #lee onew #lee jinki #jonghyun #rip jonghyun #shinee jonghyun #kpop #depression #shawol #shinee world #key #kibum #taemin #onew #minho #jinki

[gaydemiboy]

I can't sleep and I just found the need to rant

Alrighty so, I'm pretty sure I suffer from anxiety for a very long time. I mean, years. Have I tried to tell my parents? Oh yeah, multiple times. My dad's always like "Back in my day we didn't have depression and anxiety" or "It's like the school system is telling you to be depressed". Honestly, he isn't too wrong about the latter, but sometimes depression starts at home. I even told him that and he gave me this look, like, "Are you tryna blame me?" And honestly, I kinda can. I mean, whenever I told my dad and mom back in sixth grade that I had attempted suicide over 5 times in multiple ways, they shrugged it off and were like "It's a phase". Literally, I wanted to kill myself and came closer because I wanted to get a point across. Then I got my prescription for glasses, and hoooo boy, that was one hell of a ride. Now, I knew that I needed glasses for a very VERY long time. Like, my school would send letters asking my parents to let me see an optometrist of some sort. But I finally got my prescription for glasses and. My. Parents. Flipped.

Literally lost all their shit, like. They say that if I wear glasses I "don't look normal" and that "my kids are gonna have to wear glasses and they're gonna hate me for tbe rest of my life". And honestly? That fucking broke me into a million pieces, because basically my parents were calling me a freak for something I didn't have control over.

Then I try to come out to my mom ad bisexual (I used to be bi) and she was like "Oh you're just confused" and "It's a phase, it'll pass" So yeah, I just love getting my feelings rejected by my own mother. Woop woop.

Seventh grade, I got sexually harrassed by a childhood friend. When I told my mom, she was like "oh im sorry" And hugged me and was kinda awkward about it. So then she told me dad and older brother and they told me to tell the principal. I just, i just needed someone to hug me and tell me everything was gonna be okay. I needed someone else to do the talking because i didnt feel brave enough to tell me principal. So, they send me to school like any normal day as if nothing happened. Externally i looked dead and numb, while internally i was screaming in pain, betrayal, and just. Many more more bad emotions. I told my vice principal (who was my gym teacher) and she promised to help me. And she did, the boy got in school suspension. I remember the day i told her, i didnt cry. But my voice was dead and my eyes were lifeless. Mostly because i hadnt gotten a wink of sleep that night. My family moved on as if nothing happened meanwhile i was left to deal with all that emotional shit by myself because i didnt know anyone who had been through someone like that. And my parents didnt know what to do either so they were like "eh she can deal with it herself".

Then enter eighth grade. I finally told my ELA teacher (whom I love very much and I am forever thankful to) that i was suffering through depression. I had started cutting in eighth grade, i used scissors. I basically told her everything that happened up above and some other stuff. My hands started shaking and i started crying because i never realized how much that had really hurt me until i said it out loud. I will never forget the look on her face. She looked really sad and shocked. You see, im a pretty decent student. I keep my grades up, am a good athlete, im pretty smart, and i stay outta trouble. And im also known as a quiet kid since i dont speak much except to my friends. So i kinds guess thats why she was shocked. After i finished, she hugged me really tight and said, "Sh, everything's gonna be alright. I'm so glad you told me this" And i cannot express how that made me feel. It made me feel heard, it made me feel loved. And i hugged back and kept crying. She then took me to the counslers and was there with me and helped me talk to her. I haf basketball so we walked down to the girls locker room and she hugged me one last time, "im so glad you told me this Jenny" And i hugged back them went to change. It was empty with other girl's stuff because practice had began like 30 minutes ago. I remember i started crying, but not because i was sad, i was happy. I was, extremely happy. I finally told someone and they listened and they are helping me. I quickly wiped away my tears and got changed and sprinted to the gym for practice.

Time skip, i see a therapist and my parents are finally understanding a bit better. But they mostly still think it's all in my head. My dad had the audacity of telling me, "Hey the therapist isnt cheap so like. Could you try to have less anxiety?" And honestly? That felt like a slap to the face. In my head i was like "bitch what. Did i hear right??? DID HE JUST ASK ME TO HAVE LESS ANXIETY????" and externally i was like, "um, its pretty hard to have less anxiety when ive bern dealing with it for years" And he kinda gave me this glare and turned away. I felt hurt (yet again) and so i didnt say anything else. My teacher was the only one who truly understood me. Somedays, i would skip classes to go to the counslers office because i wasnt emotionally or mentally good. ELA was my last core class of the day, so one day i go back to class. That day i had skipped my first, second, and fourth period (i had gym my third period). Then when i entered class her face seemed to light up. She was walking around, tslking about the lesson of the day. She was writing something down, then when she passed my desk she left a sticky note. I discretely grabbed it and when i looked at what it said i felt like crying. She wrote on it, "I'm so glad you're here today! ❤" And drew a heart.

This gets better.

Okay, so its the end of the year and i finally had figured out i was genderfluid. I really really really wanted to tell my ELA teacher because she is basically the only adult i trust enough. So, we went to the library one day to return our books. I was known as a bookworm and i came to the library often during the week so the librarian knew me well enough. My teacher was at the desk typing some stuff in, then i came up to her with my school agenda and pencil in hand. I told her i needed to talk to her. Then i wrote down, "I'm pansexual, demisexual, and genderfluid" She read it and gave me the biggest smile, "that's amazing to hear! You're part of such a great and beautiful community." My teacher has a part time job in the weekend as photographer. She told me she was a photographer for a gay wedding (one of the groom's later came out as trans) and i felt so happy and proud. I couldnt erase my smile off my face and like, ahhhhhhhhhh.

So, moral of this rant, please dont commit suicide. Dont think that life doesnt get better, because it does. I went from suicidal everyday to being constantly and truly happy. I am forever thankful to my teacher, Mrs. Davenport, for showing me that i dont have to go through everything alone and that someone cares. I love you, Mrs. Davenport ❤

Anywho, if anyone ever needs to talk about something, im always here and ready to listen

I hope you sll have a great day/night/afternoon

Signing off,

Jack

#you will be found #depression #depression survivor #anxiety #family #love #lgbt #love yourself #i am strong #i am loved #i am not alone #you are not alone #you are loved #you are strong