#for su*cide prevention month

[moonbeam-dragon]

Mourning Dove

Moonrise! So remember how Quackerjack sort of offs himself in the comics? Well I had an idea. AU where the rest of the Fearsome Four learn of it and how they react. This won't be entirely accurate but I haven't read all the comics. So here's my interpretation. Tw: Angst, swearing, mention of su!cide, giving Darkwing Duck a hard time, Megavolt crying, Bushroot crying, blood bending, Liquidator is angry af.

Megavolt sat alone in his cell. To prevent him from making any escape, they'd made a special cell for him. He was the only one to stay in St. Canard now. After the fight involving Taurus Bulba, they'd all been locked away. Quackerjack had been his cellmate for a while before he broke out. He'd promised to come back and release Megavolt, but he didn't have high hopes after months. Bushroot and Liquidator had been moved to remote prisons to keep them from being able to use their powers to escape. Megavolt was kept in the supervillain prison, with a new cell specially made. It was lined with rubber. No electricity. Just an insulated window. Even if he escaped through it, there was nothing but water underneath. But he'd kept his powers. He was laying on his back, letting small sparks fly between his thumb and index fingers. He'd be out soon. Quackerjack wouldn't really leave him here.

It was boring here without the others. All the times they'd been arrested together and thrown here. They'd had separate cells but spent the rest of their time together, in the gardens, and ate together. He hoped Quackerjack would abduct them again soon. He couldn't believe he missed them so much. He'd never used the word "friends" to describe the others. Only Bushroot and Quackerjack said it aloud. But it was true. And Megavolt missed his friends.

There was a dulled tapping sound on the wall of his cell. The bars were wrapped in rubber. There was no metal around the cell, to prevent him from electrifying or magnetizing anything. But he could talk to guards. There was no point eating in the cafeteria without his friends, so he had meals delivered here too. He looked up to see none other than Darkwing Duck standing there. Megavolt sat up, smirking. "Old pal, old enemy. Are you bailing me out or something?" he asked.

Darkwing solemnly shook his head. "Uh, no. I just came to talk to you." He rested a shoulder on the bars, crossing his arms. Megavolt noticed something white, like a piece of paper in his hand. "It's about your old cellmate."

Megavolt's ears perked up at the mention of his friend. He stood and went closer to the bars. "Did he finally get arrested? Is- Is he here?"

Darkwing sighed, shaking his head. "He's not. He's... Something happened during his most recent caper. He launched an attack on the Quackwerks company."

"Of course he did," Megavolt said, shaking his head.

"He turned the corporation into dolls," he explained.

"Yeah, he has an issue with authorities."

Darkwing sighed, biting his lip as he thought of how to explain the next part. "He did. Well he tried to do the same to everyone online the Whiffle Boy game."

Megavolt raised an eyebrow. "That's extreme."

"I stopped it. But... I didn't quite stop him," Darkwing told the rat. He sighed, taking off his hat and running his hand over his head. "I tried to talk him out of anything irrational. But it wasn't enough. He was upset and it didn't go over well."

Megavolt rolled his eyes. "Quackerjack's impossible to talk out of things. Why do you think I robbed a museum dressed as a pumpkin? He can be persuasive when he whines."

The hero groaned, shutting his eyes. "Just listen to me! Quackerjack was found on his ex's doorstep."

"He has an ex?" Megavolt asked.

"He did," the duck answered quickly. "He'd turned himself into a toy on her doorstep. But the ray he used to do it fell and was smashed. We can't really turn him back." Darkwing held the piece of paper he was holding to the bars, letting Megavolt take it. "This was next to him after he'd changed into a doll."

The rat forgot all about Quackerjack having a former lover when he took the paper. Megavolt looked at the note, seeing Quackerjack's handwriting. It wasn't written as a scribble like usual. It was slow, like he had seriously thought about his words. The words were written at the bottom of a fold.

THIS IS THE

BEST I'LL

EVER BE.

-JACKY

Megavolt stared at the note, uncomprehending for a moment. He was hit by shock and denial so fast, he didn't understand the meaning for a minute. Darkwing reached through the bars and slipped back the note. "I'm sorry, Megs."

That confirmed it. Megavolt felt his chest tighten and his eyes got hot. "What?""

I'm sorry. He's gone," Darkwing told him softly. He pulled back from the bars, pocketing the note. "The device he used was broken. The police can't save him."

Megavolt looked up at Darkwing, clenching his teeth. "And where were you when this happened?"

Darkwing looked him in the eye. "I was helping return the victims to normal."

"How?"

"There was a different ray that Quackerjack used on them-"

"Then turn him back with it, too."

"We tried. It worked differently and he-"

"Why didn't you stop him?!" Megavolt screamed, grabbing onto the bars and slamming himself into them. Darkwing had to step a few meters back to keep from being hit by the sparks of rage enveloping the villain. "Why didn't you help him?!"

Darkwing put up his hands. "I tried confronting and talking to him. It didn't work. He got upset with me and-"

"Bullshit!" Megavolt screamed. "Did you even try? Did you even-"

"I did everything I could, okay?!" Darkwing retorted. "That guy needed professional help and I wasn't it. There's only so much I could have done."

Megavolt groaned and teared up. "We all needed professional help. And did we get it? No. We got thrown in prison. At least we used to have each other but because of you, I don't anymore!"

Darkwing pointed a finger at Megavolt. "Don't blame me for splitting you up. Mayor Owlson chose to do that."

"I'm blaming you! I'm blaming you for Quackerjack dying!"

"That wasn't my fault," Darkwing informed him coldly. "I feel guilty enough for how my efforts failed. If I could go fix it-"

"You have his time top. Fix it," Megavolt demanded.Darkwing put his hands up. "I turned it in to S.H.U.S.H. and they dismantled it. They figured it was too dangerous to keep around. Quackerjack nearly unraveled St. Canard history with it."

"You've used it. I was there-"

"I shouldn't have," Darkwing told his enemy. "My best friend nearly lost his life using it."

Megavolt shook his hands on the bars. "And what about MY best friend? He IS dead!"

Darkwing watched and he hyperventilated, backing up. "I can't apologize enough-"

"Then get the fuck away from me!" the rodent shouted, sending a bolt through his fingers that Darkwing barely rolled out of the way of. "Get out! Unless you want me to fry you to a skeleton, just! Get! Out!!"

Darkwing obeyed, running out of the hallway and leaving the premises.

Several minutes passed of Megavolt just being silent and taking it in. His breathing slowed to a stop as the realization hit him again.

Quackerjack was gone.

Megavolt gripped the bars as tight as he could, the rubber absorbing all his energy as he blasted it with lightning. He doubled over, still holding onto them. "NOOO!!" He gasped, bringing his arms back and falling to his knees. He started sobbing, tears flooding his goggles. He tore off the goggles and threw them down so the tears could flow down his face. A burning, tingling sensation hit his face as miniature short-circuits hit the tears. The rat hugged himself, gasping for air and gripping his own arms. "NOO!!"Quackerjack was dead and gone. No more capers with him. No more creative ways to disguise themselves. No more designing machines together.

"Quackerjack..." Megavolt muttered to himself, shaking with a sob. Tears continued to stream down his face.

He remembered when the two had first met. Negaduck had them meet in his warehouse. He'd had his doubts when he first saw the jester. They shook hands as they agreed to cooperate on a task. When he'd static shocked Quackerjack, the other had just laughed it off. That night, as they'd placed the electro-slave device and fought Darkwing Duck, they just clicked. They'd been the two most dangerous criminals ever. They made an electrifying team. They did so much together. Both while working and just hanging out. They'd quickly gone from associates to partners. They were close friends. Best friends. Megavolt didn't care about people. He cared about electronics. He cared about his projects. But Quackerjack? He would've given his life for him. He wished he'd gotten a chance to do just that.

"Why? Quacky... Why?"

Quackerjack was almost too pure for this world. He may have lost his marbles ages ago. But he was happy and sweet. He was friendly and bubbly. The public only saw the vengeful, destructive side of him. And he was all those things. But it was a good thing for Megavolt. They were equally as nuts as the other. That's why they hit it off.

And Quackerjack was gone. Megavolt was left alone in the prison cell. Even if he ever got out, he didn't have his Quacky to return to. He had no idea how to get to Bushroot or Liquidator. His bulbs had likely been confiscated by the police. There were none down here. He was all alone in this world.

He was alone. Megavolt felt his breath return to him in a painful sob. "WHY!?" He hugged himself tightly again, leaning over and sobbing. His sides ached. His face had mild burns from his short-circuiting tears. It wasn't enough. He had so much pain now and no good way to get rid of it. So he just screamed and banged his fists on the rubberized floor. Every volt coming from him was absorbed harmlessly. Harmlessly. He hated being useless and harmless in here.

"AHH!!"

He'd kill the next guard that came to bring him a meal. Just to do something destructive.

Megavolt already missed his playmate.

___

Bushroot supposed this place wasn't awful.He told himself that every time the sun rose. At least he wasn't being starved. He was kept in a cell with a glass door on the outside. Everything else was stone and steel. Solid stone walls and floors. A solid steel door. And a solid glass wall. All of it was thick to ensure he wouldn't escape. He didn't enjoy it. But the guards that brought him water were friendly. He got a large water bottle every morning. It occurred to him that the guards didn't understand how he functioned. He shyly brought up his use for roots to one of the guards. At some point, she had just given him a metal dish to pour it into and left him to his own devices.

He'd forgotten what solitude was like. Even before his mutation, plants were his friends. He wasn't allowed near them anymore. The police station had decided he was too dangerous with flora. His greenhouse was being taken care of by a small organization in the city. His favorite guard, who he'd never gotten the name of, brought him news as often as he could. He just wanted to know that all his friends were well taken care off.

Bushroot was well taken care of, too. He'd been provided with books and other ways to entertain himself. He was never quite bored, except when his mind insisted he should be bored. But that wasn't as often as it could have been. His favorite guard always made sure to keep him from getting too stressed. Many guard let him sit and exist. She tried to keep him living.

He even got news on the criminal activity in St. Canard. Liquidator and Megavolt were still in prison. Megavolt and Quackerjack were the only ones still in the city. But Quackerjack had broken out again, working on some grand experiment. Bushroot was eager to hear how it turned out. He hoped it went well for him. Sure, Bushroot had strayed from villainy recently. He was planning to serve his life sentence and return to his greenhouse to turn over a new leaf.

Until then, he was left out in the desert. It was a solitary prison without many other inmates. He wasn't sure who else was here. He wasn't allowed to know that. He was sure it was just some F.O.W.L. agents. He didn't care. None of his friends were locked away here. It had been decided too risky to allow them to stay in the same prison. That was fair. They had a tendency to collaborate and break out. The first few times, they'd waited for Negaduck to break them out or rescue each other. But they didn't know where each other were, except for Quackerjack and Megavolt.

Bushroot's pondering was interrupted by the creaking of a door. He looked up at the steel door, seeing it opened. "Bushroot?" his favorite guard asked. She stood there, holding it. "You have a guest. May he come in?"

"A guest? This must be my lucky day. Though I don't see any four-leaf clovers growing in here," Bushroot joked with a smile. The guard gave him a solemn, saddened look. That must have been a really bad joke. No plants grew here. The groundskeepers made sure of that. He shook his head. "Forget I said that. Let him in."

The guard gave him another look before stepping out of the room. The door shut behind his visitor. "Hey, Reggie." A short duck in all purple stood there, smiling gently at him.

"Darkwing!" the plant-duck exclaimed, grinning. "Take a seat!" he offered his single bed to his guest, backing over to the window wall. He sat on the floor in the corner to bask in the sunlight. There was lots of it beating down on the sandy land. "What brings you here?"

Darkwing took the seat he was offered and sighed quietly. "What have you heard about St. Canard since you were taken here?" he asked to start.

Bushroot hummed in thought. "A lot of news about my greenhouse. Ammonia Pine's most recent attempt to wipe down the town. Mostly small crimes. And I heard Quackerjack was at it again." He chuckled. "Something having to do with Whiffle Boy again. Is he going to burn down a new store or something?"

Darkwing rubbed the back of his neck. "That's part of why I came to you. He already committed the crime and he did not get away with it," he said. He looked firmly at something outside the window. "You see, he tried turning people at the Quackwerks into stuffed dolls. And then he attempted to attack all the people playing Whiffle Boy online. I managed to prevent the worst of it. But that wasn't the end of it."

Bushroot raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? What did he do?"

Darkwing ducked his head to rub his eyes under the cover of his hat. "I- Well you see he paid a final visit to an ex of his."

"What? Quackerjack was dating someone?" Bushroot interrupted. "Who?"

Darkwing looked up, hands gripping the edge of the bed. "A woman he knew while everyone was working at the Quackwerks company. But that's not-"

"That's great for him. Do you know why it ended?" Bushroot asked, curious what had happened with his dear friend.

Darkwing groaned. "Personal issues. Look, I'm trying to tell you something and it's not easy. Just listen and stop asking questions."

Bushroot shut his beak, taken aback by the tense tone of the hero's voice. He stared at him for a moment. Darkwing took his hand off and wrung it in his hands to fidget. "That turning people into a doll thing I mentioned. Quackerjack had another version of the machine with him. He went to his ex girlfriend's house and turned himself into a doll on her doorstep. The device he used was smashed. And we can't figure out how to turn him back. He... he wrote something and left it by himself." Darkwing pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and stood to hand it to Bushroot.

The mutant stared at him in utter disbelief. Turned himself into a doll? He couldn't be turned back? Was he hearing all that right? Darkwing's eyes flickered to the paper, and Bushroot realized he'd just been staring at him the whole time. The villain looked down at the note, and the truth, which had been bubbling up, burst.

THIS IS THE

BEST I'LL

EVER BE.

-JACKY

Bushroot stared at the note for several minutes. The writing was legible. That was unexpected. He must have thought it out. "Sweet Gaia..." Bushroot muttered. This was a suicide note. From Quackerjack. Quackerjack-

"He killed himself?" the mutant asked, his words coming out in a sad whisper. It was broken, weak, and helpless.

Darkwing stumbled on his words. "No- Well- I... Not exactly. He just..." Darkwing never bothered to finish that sentence. He trailed off. Quackerjack wasn't quite dead. But he wasn't alive anymore either.

"Why?" Bushroot dropped the note by his feet, his leafy fingers trembling. His chest felt tight and his brain was swirling. "Why would he... What happened?"

Darkwing bent to pick up the note. He stayed knelt by the plant as he pocketed it. "I'm sure when you four united against Quackwerks, you noticed he was off."

Bushroot thought back, tucking his knees to his chest and hugging them. "I knew he was more easily provoked. He was more assertive. I thought it was weird. But he was always functioning with a few screws loose."

Darkwing sighed. "He experienced some things while working and kinda snapped. Between distrust, loneliness, and depression, he had a lot weighing on him."

"What about that girlfriend? What did she do to him?"

"She loved him," Darkwing assured the mutant. "She reached out to me to try and get me to help, okay? She was looking out for him. They broke up because he was struggling to cope. But she never stopped believing in him."

Bushroot felt tears start running down his face. "He- We- We didn't even realize. If we'd known he was, that he would... Megavolt, Liquidator, and I- Oh how did they take it?"

Darkwing sat against the wall and set his hat next to him. "Megavolt didn't take it well. He blamed me for not saving him."

"Why didn't you?" Bushroot spat bitterly. "Huh? How come?"

Darkwing put his hands up gently. "I tried. I tried talking to him. To his inner child or whatever. I don't know that it was so inner," he chuckled dryly. It didn't cheer up the villain. "It didn't go over well. He got mad. There was fighting. I wanted to-"

"Well, you didn't!" Bushroot retorted. "You didn't save him! I don't care if you 'tried!'" Tears ran down his face. He wiped them violently, rubbing at his face with unnecessary force. He sniffed loudly and turned his face to look out the window. "Maybe if you'd sent him to a mental hospital instead of arresting him, he'd be alive and well."

Darkwing groaned. "I don't need two of you blaming me for this."

"I'm not going to blame Tuskernini or something," Bushroot snipped. "When you tell Liquidator, you'll be lucky if you don't get a custom ass-kicking."

The short hero grabbed his hat and put it back on his head. "Trust me. I'm not looking forward to it. But I swore to tell each of you personally. It just seems wrong letting you find out through a literal grape vine."

"At least a grape vine has more empathy than you!" Bushroot shouted, standing up. He leaned against the wall. "Leave me alone! Just leave-"

"I have plenty of empathy, thank you very much," Darkwing said, standing with him. But he didn't nearly match the plant's height. "Look, Reggie. I'm sorry for your lo-"

Darkwing was slammed against the stone wall by a strong vine. The wind was knocked out of him. He fell on his hands and knees, trying to force his breath to work again. He was picked up by the throat, making this worse. He could feel the vines burning his skin and rubbing away feathers. "Don't call me Reggie! Never call me Reggie again!" Tears streamed down his face. "My friends get to call me that. That means Liquidator, Megavolt, and Quackerjack. NOT a pathetic excuse for a hero who couldn't save one person from himself!" He tightened his vine on Darkwing's neck. "You're no hero! One of my only friends is GONE because you couldn't save him! I had friends. Human friends. Good ones. And because of you, one of them is gone."

"Bushroot!" a female voice shouted. "Leaves off Darkwing and on the floor!"

Bushroot recognized his favorite guard and withdrew his appendages. He dropped to his knees obediently and held his hands behind his head. He didn't want to have to hurt his only companion out here. His companions were hurt as it was. Darkwing was pulled out of the cell, the guard asking questions about his condition. Bushroot heard as Darkwing started gasping again, muttering an assurance. The steel door slammed shut and Bushroot turned to look. The guard was locking him up. He couldn't even feel guilty for assaulting the hero. He deserved it.

As he heard the two leave the section, Bushroot broke down.

No more being pestered by that jester. No more getting his plants trampled by toys. No more zany laughter. No more animated antics. No more Fearsome Four. No more Quackerjack.

"Quackerjack..." Bushroot whispered the name like it was sacred. It was sacred to him. The mutant leaned against the window again and slid down it. He felt his heart twist. "NO!" He held his head in his hands, trying to block out the pain. Why couldn't it come on more slowly?? "I'M SORRY!" If only he would have noticed the signs. If only he would have helped him. If only he could have stopped him. If only he could have hugged him goodbye. The plant-duck dipped his head and whispered, "I'm so sorry!" Reggie just curled up in a shaft of sunlight and sobbed for his fallen playmate.

___

Liquidator knew he must be in a desert. There was no water around most of the time. Therefore, it would be harder for him to use his powers against his captors should he escape. But his cell was waterproof. No holes. No bars. The door was sealed glass that could only be opened from the outside. And it was extremely tolerable to temperature. He'd tried boiling and freezing himself to damage it, to no avail. He couldn't slip through the cracks. There was a sealed circle on the front that the guards used to give him food. But it didn't work from his side. Frustrating as it was, the villain appreciated the ingenuity of the patented product. Seeing as he couldn't escape, he was waiting.

Waiting for what? He wasn't sure. Bushroot, Megavolt, or Quackerjack to get him, he supposed. He missed them badly.

Bud Flud wasn't a kind person. He had few friends growing up, and none since he inherited his father's company. But working with the Fearsome Five was different. He'd expected a simple business partnership, with financial benefits and allies. Though they'd never enjoyed Negaduck's company, the others had found some comfort in each other. They were all a little lonely. They all needed support, and they all gave it. Liquidator hadn't been keen on hanging out after capers. It was Quackerjack's idea. He was always the one trying to make the team get along. Liquidator appreciated the effort.

He'd found it hard to empathize with the group. He had less in common with them. He was the one neurotypical friend. The others functioned so differently from him. And over time, he'd developed a strong protectiveness over them. They were kind to him in their own odd ways. And, being the only member that could not die, he felt that he had a duty to keep them safe.

He couldn't do that from here. The Liquidator was useless. And if he could find a way his container was imperfect, he would escape faster than you could say "Liquidator protection, 100% safety guarantee!"

His captors were not friendly. They never spoke to him. They gave him a bit of food every day. He'd eat in silence. Actually, he wasn't entirely certain what he did could be called "eating." He ate food, but it dissolved in his body rather fast. He wasn't even sure he needed to eat. But the food here wasn't awful. So he wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to eat. He knew he differed from Bushroot in that way. He rarely ate. Sometimes, when they were all free, they'd hold up a pizza joint, or steal takeout. Bushroot would eat if the rest of the group was. Liquidator, however, kept eating so regularly, he couldn't tell if he really needed it to survive.

As the canine was lost in his swirling thoughts, he heard a door open at the end of the hall. A few guards entered, escorting someone short down the hall. They stopped in front of his containment cell. Standing there, in front of the sealed door, was none other than-"

Darkwing Duck," Liquidator said. He'd been laying in a plastic tub, his body halfway in puddle form. He rose up, flowing over to the door and raising what would be an eyebrow. "To what do I owe this great displeasure?"

Darkwing sighed, twiddling his thumbs. His voice came through muffled from the thickness of the glass. "News. There's something you should know. I wish I could've told you this in private, but after my last meeting with a supervillain, I couldn't take the risks." He gestured to the guards on either side of him.

Liquidator didn't like the sound of it. A meeting with another supervillain? And it made him paranoid about having bodyguards? Liquidator burst into rude, deep laughter. "How about that? Darkwing Duck is suddenly afraid of a supervillain. One explanation is that he's losing his cool and his touch!"

Darkwing groaned, rubbing a hand down his bill. "Hoo, boy. I'm not in the mood for banter, buddy. This isn't going to be easy for you to hear. I'd rather get it over with."

Liquidator crossed his arms. "You come to my prison cell and refuse to entertain a conversation with me? That sounds like-"

"Please don't be difficult," Darkwing insisted. "You're the sane one. You are perfectly capable of shutting your snout and cooperating." He looked the villain in his bottomless eyes.

The Liquidator had to stop and think. Did he want to seek entertainment in upsetting Darkwing? Or did he want to know what this was about. He noticed how tired Darkwing was. What time was it? How had he gotten here from St. Canard? Why was he worried about security? What did he have to say? Why did he refer to Liquidator as "the sane one?" Did this have to do with the Fearsome Five?

"Hold on. Let me guess," he said jokingly. "You need my assistance to help defeat Negaduck?"

"Liquidator, please-"

"I'm not taking any part in the affairs of heroism in St. Canard," the canine said stubbornly. "I care nothing for you or what you have to say. The Liquidator inquires why he should listen to you after you locked him away from my team." He crossed his arms, a soft sloshing sound as he did so. "I owe you nothing."

"No, you don't," Darkwing said, starting to raise the volume of his voice. "But for pretty much killing you, I owe you something. So let me-"

"Oh, now you apologize for that," Liquidator said with an eye roll. "You should have apologized when you knocked me into a vat of toxic water and melted my body!"

Darkwing's pride overcame him. "Hey, hey, hey! The water was only toxic because you poisoned it!"

"It was supposed to be gross, not poisonous. If you hadn't startled me-"

"If you hadn't been committing a crime in the first- I didn't come here to talk about this!" Darkwing said, gripping his fists and holding them at his sides.

"Your exact words, I believe, were-" He shifted his form to be short and clothed like Darkwing. "'Cases are so much easier when the bad guy offs himself like that!'"

The guards gave weird looks to Darkwing, who pulled his collar and chuckled nervously. "Now, don't go mincing my words-"

"I'm not mincing them. That was a direct quote by Darkwing Duck in 1991," Liquidator mocked. "You enjoyed the thought that I'd personally jumped into the vat to off myself."

Darkwing's eyes widened. "No, I did not-"

"I bet you took credit for the defeat. As if you yourself had forced me to the point of suicide. Like that would be so heroic. Well I have a hot take for you, Darkwing Duck. It's not."

Darkwing groaned, rubbing between his eyes. "That's not what I meant. Would you believe I felt guilty for that and didn't know what else to say?"

"Of course."

Darkwing's face lit up a bit as he looked up. "Really?"

"Ha! No," Liquidator told him with a smirk. "You have no sense of empathy. And therefore, you do not posses the true qualities we're looking for in a superhero. Not to mention your lack of superpowers. Unfortunately-"

"Quackerjack is dead!"

Both of them fell to silence. The guards looked between Darkwing and Liquidator, frowning. Darkwing was breathing heavily, clearly distressed by the topic.

Liquidator felt himself go entirely still. Had he heard Darkwing right? Had he meant that? Quackerjack was dead? As if his throat had gone dry, Liquidator swallowed. "I may need you to repeat your previous statement due to a misunderstanding."

Darkwing took a deep breath. "Quackerjack. He's dead. He- He snapped and when his last caper failed, he... Well he actually..." The hero pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and offered it to the Liquidator. Since he couldn't take it, Liquidator just stared as it was pressed against the glass for him to read.

THIS IS THE

BEST I'LL

EVER BE.

-JACKY

Darkwing's voice wavered as he spoke. "He tried to hurt a lot of people in his last caper. I tried talking him out of it. I tried to calm him down and find a way to help, I did." He teared up. "It backfired horribly. I stopped him from hurting all but one person. He- He turned himself into a doll like he'd intended for..." The hero swallowed and looked up at the other. "I worked with the police department to change him back but it didn't work. He's as good as dead."

Liquidator felt his water run cold. In his horror, he didn't notice his legs frosting over. "So he offed himself?"

Darkwing nodded, withdrawing the note. Liquidator almost reached to grab it, but his hand just pressed against the glass. "Please believe me when I say I'm sorry for your loss. If only I could-"

"Save the pity," Liquidator said coldly. "And leave the premises immediately." He glared at the so-called "hero." Quackerjack was gone and no amount of apologizing would bring him back. The canine was glad he couldn't exactly cry. He refused to let Darkwing see him that way. "Congratulations on defeating another bad guy."

"Don't pull that crap on me," Darkwing said defensively. "I'm not proud of it. Despite what you and the others seem to think."

Liquidator's interest peaked. "Who else have you told this information to?"

"Megavolt and Bushroot-"

"How are you alive after facing them?" Liquidator asked. "Because if I wasn't behind this wall, I'd force my fist down your trachea and give you a patented death by drowning!" He pounded a hand against the glass, a loud thud echoing but no damage being done. His body went from frosting over to starting to boil. "You're a dead duck!"

A guard turned and nudged Darkwing to move out. As the group started leaving, Liquidator slammed his fist on the wall again. "I guarantee your doom once I get out of here, Darkwing!" he shouted. "Mark my words!!"

The door slammed shut and Liquidator only waited a moment before he broke down. "GAH!" He looked down. If he could breathe, he'd be gasping to keep himself together. But instead, he just pounded on the wall uselessly.

Quackerjack was gone. Megavolt and Bushroot must be crushed. Megavolt was the closest to the jester. Bushroot was so attached to him, all of them, really. And he could get so emotional. They were both probably so hurt. Liquidator was hurting, too. He hurt because he knew they were the only three people in the world who cared. Because he knew Darkwing wasn't capable of mourning a villain.

But Quackerjack was no villain to them. He was a teammate. He was a friend. He was company, a source of laughter, and the heart of the team. He always brought them together, up until a few months ago when he reunited them. He freed them from a living hell and they had fun together. Sure, they got arrested soon after, but oh, how Bud had missed the action. He'd missed them all so much. And now he was feeling that longing tenfold. He longed for Quackerjack to lighten the mood but he was gone! He longed to find Bushroot and Megavolt so he could hold them close and keep them safe.

He couldn't keep Quackerjack safe from here. He couldn't keep the others safe. Knowing how wildly unpredictable and unstable they were- Oh god, he had to get to them.

___

Liquidator stood and faced his guard. She was going to shove a tray of food through the sealed hole like normal. But Liquidator had other plans. He focused in on himself and then on her, feeling the movement of blood through her veins. He held his arms out and seized that movement. She cried out in shock and tried to pull her arms back. It didn't work. Liquidator bent his arms and started moving them both up and down. Her arms moved in sync with him.

"Ah!" She struggled against him but it didn't work. "What are you doing?"

Liquidator moved his legs and she walked to the seal of the door. He didn't answer, just struggling to grab onto it with the opposite movements. When he moved right, she moved left. He saw her fingers graze the lock and then reached to his hip. She pulled the keys off her belt and started meticulously using each one on the lock. The fourth one made the padlock click and fall. He dropped the keys and grabbed onto the latch.

"To answer your question," he said quietly. His voice was full of venom. "I am getting the hell out of here, and you shall be my unwilling accomplice."

Silent tears fell down the guards face as she felt her blood controlled by a supervillain. Once she'd undone the latch and swung the door open, he released her. The villain flowed out of the cell, swirling and spraying everywhere. "I apologize for any inconvenience. My intention was not to harm you, but unfortunately you came down to give me my rations while I was not at my best. I wish you well."

With that, he splashed down and out of the hall. The villain found a window and leapt out of it. He was right. He was in a desert. The alarm was raised as he sped from the prison.

Now to return to St. Canard and find the other two.

So that didn't go well on Darkwing's end. Now that the rest of the Fearsome Four know about the tragedy, what will they do? What is Liquidator planning? If you're interested, comment. I might continue this story if people show interest in it. Farewell, best of luck, avoid roasted cabbages, don't eat earwax, and look on the bright side of life! Moonset!

#darkwing duck #darkwing duck 1991 #mourning dove #megavolt #quackerjack #liquidator #bushroot #fearsome five #fearsome four #quackervolt #playthyme #bushjack #quackerroot #elmo sputterspark #reginald bushroot #bud flud #waterway #the poly four #dwd

[randomperson660]

As it is su¡cide prevention month

Here’s 100 reasons NOT to commit su¡cide

Feel free to comment/reblog with resources and more below, you matter, you’re loved

1. It's something your parents will never get over

2. It'll destroy your sibling(s)

3. It'll destroy your best friends

4. Everyone will miss you

5. Your pets will be lost without you

6. Publish your writing

7. Tell your story

8. Give it time to get better, because it will

9. Help other people

10. Travel

11. Art

12. Have a drink at 21

13. Get tattooed

14. Graduate High school

15. Graduate College

16. Get married

17. Have kids (if wanted)

18. Drive/learn how to

19. Live on your own one day

20. Concerts

21. Music

22. New movies

23. New music

24. Next album from your favourite artist

25. Next season of your favourite show

26. Sequel to your favourite movie

27. Learn a new instrument

28. Photography

29. Reading

30. New books

31. See a book your like become a movie

32. Meet your idols

33. Have a job, get a first paycheque

34. Go scuba diving

35. See a bunch of different animals in person

36. Go to museums

37. Go to haunted places

38. Learn a new language

39. Go in a hot air balloon

40. (Go to) New York City/Paris/Rome

41. Food!

42. See yourself recover

43. Be an inspiration

44. It’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem

45. You matter

46. You are important

47. You are not worthless

48. You make other people happy

49. You are never truly alone

50. Making new friends

51. People do care about you

52. There is only one you in the whole world!

53. You have so much potential!

54. You’re super smart

55. You can do great things

56. Treehouses!!!!

57. Hugs 🫂

58. Kisses

59. Stargazing

60. Dancing!

61. You could save someones life

62. You have so much more ahead of you

63. Beaches!

64. Listening to Rainstorms

65. Waking up to sunshine and birds chirping

66. Snow!

67. Holidays

68. Halloween!!!

69. Autumn/Fall!

70. Opening presents

71. Your next birthday!

72. You’re so talented

73. Laughing REALLY hard!

74. The world wouldn’t be the same :(

75. Flowers!!

76. Be your own hero!

77. Bubble baths and bath bombs!!!

78. Cuddling 🫂

79. Lying on the grass and watching the clouds

80. Drinking hot chocolate

81. Doing crazy shit with your best friend

82. Finally meeting your long distance friends/partners

83. Staying up all night and sleeping in

84. Your scars WILL heal!

85. Cute baby animals

86. Your life can only get better

87. You have a voice and a right to be heard

88. Experiencing life and all it has to offer

89. This feeling is only temporary

90. Going on that car ride somewhere nice

91. Watching broadway!

92. Singing your heart out

93. Eating your favourite meal

94. Discovering new places and things to do

95. Proving yourself WRONG!

96. Proving to yourself that you are capable!

97. Watching yourself grow!

98. Watching those your love grow

99. Giving someone else hope for the future

100. You deserve to be happy

If you made it this far, tell me something about yourself! Anything!What’s your birthday? Favourite song? Artist you like?

I wanna see em! Tell me! I wanna hear all of it!

You matter, you’re important and you’re going to heal

#suicide prevention month #you’re loved

[dracwife]

1, 3, and 7 for the s/i asks !! let's hear about that NCIS s/i 👀

1. What is your s/i's name & pronouns?

His full name is Mischa Aleksy Joysz! He got the nickname Mickey because he often went by Mimi as a child (it was a name he went by to avoid his deadname), and later after coming out, in school went by Micah or Michael as an 'Americanized' male name since his chosen name was super close to his deadname. When he got transferred to Gibbs' team though, the Americanized thing was tossed because"That's not your name."

From there, he just went by Mischa like he wanted, and Tony eventually gave him the nickname Mickey. He goes by that now, since it reminds him of his new family ❤️‍🩹

His pronouns are he/him! He's a transman, so he prefers only those :^]

7. Give us 3 random facts abt your s/i!

- Mickey got his scar from a dirtbike accident! It fades over time but there's a couple of cases where he gets hurt and busts it open again so it has to reheal 😔

- I'm pretty sure about 85% of his wardrobe is black. Black tshirts, black jeans, black pants, black shoes. I think about the only things that aren't black are some of his pjs and like...his ties

- His favorite game is MarioKart :^] he played it repeatedly in college and will absolutely shred anyone who tries to challenge him at it. On the other hand, he's terrible at Halo and Tim hands his ass to him every time they play

3. Does your s/i have a full backstory yet? Or is it still in the works? If it's done can we see it?

oh boy. putting a read more for tws, as well as length [ sobs ]

tw ahead for mentions of s/lfharm, su/cide, r/pe, and parental death. its a lot

so. mischa was born misha amelia joysz, to his polish mother and american father. growing up he never really got along with his parents, and at a young age deciphered that he "wanted to be a boy," which did not go over well with his parents at all. they got divorced when he was barely four years old, and since he lived with his mother in DC, while his father enlisted in the navy.

mischa got made fun of quite often at school for "acting like a boy" and it threw him quite early on into a depression, which continued through most of his life. he did super well in school, but never had many friends, and at age 18, his mother kicked him out after mischa attempted to come out to her. his scholarships paid for most of his college, the rest paid for with the many hours mickey worked during the week after classes.

he eventually got a boyfriend, and things seemed to be going well for him until he gained the confidence to come out publicly. sparing the details, his at the time boyfriend got the idea that he would "fix" mischa, which led to a long cycle of continued abuse ending in him taking advantage of mischa after a night of drinking. it absolutely destroyed mischa, and maybe a month or so later, his roommate (one of the few people who supported and cared for him at the time) found him, having overdosed on his medication. she was a nursing student, and ended up saving his life and convincing him to go to the police about the rape; his now-ex was never charged, the case being dismissed because of a lack of proof, and with mischa's recent suicide attempt it was easy to dismiss it as a depressed, lonely and confused student trying to get attention. from that point on, he decided he was going to not only live the way he wanted, but help prevent what happened to him from happening again.

he ended up graduating with honors from his college with a double major in criminal justice and forensics and interning with the FBI, and eventually getting hired on to work there. he did, for around two years before being transferred to the special tactics force and working there for a year or so before deciding he really wanted to go back to the investigative side of it. he was transferred to NCIS shortly after, and assigned to gibbs' team. he and gibbs were always super close, they bonded mostly over mischa's past troubles and of course gibbs' too. tony joined the team not long after mischa did -- they worked super well as a team from the start, and after so long, mischa became the mickey we all know and love after finding his place amongst his new family at NCIS, including getting his scar from a dirtbike accident (he thought he had to prove himself as "one of the boys") <3

there's a lot more to it, like mickey's ex coming back, and the team taking a case where mickey's dad is the victim, and y'know, all the mickey/tim slowburn buildup and all that, but thats more development than backstory so. yeah. that's the long short of it all. essentially mickey's been through a lot, but despite it all he tries his best to be the fun little ray of sunshine he is 😔

#dex.ask #dex.s/i #ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪs ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ | r. － t.m.

[frenchfryfreeloader]

andd its su*cide prevention month.. my post timing is always somewhat of a mystery, even to me

[pop-punklouis]

-

#pushed off writing something about grieving my internet friend #until the end of september bc it was hard to imagine i’d have the strength to write a piece about her su*cide #for su*cide prevention month #but i just got done with it and through the tears and heartache #i feel a sense of peace allowing her spirit to wash over me again as i wrote #i’m incredible sad and grieving is a pain in the ass #but i’d rather feel than not feel at all at this point #idk where this is going but #love to you all

[birches-and-hawks]

Alright I promised you guys a post about pride month so here it is, but its not going to be a lighthearted one.

So lets discuss LGBT people in Hungary right now

I've already talked about the oppression of queer people in Hungary but they took it a step further. You know the blatant homophobia in Russia? Yeah they're bringing that here so let's talk about it.

So far the government:

- made it illegal for unmarried couples to adopt, and because same-sex marriage is illegal, this prevents same-sex couples from adopting

- "a family is with a man and a woman"

- burnt a children's book about inclusivity that featured 1 story about a same-sex couple

- made it illegal for trans people to change their name or their sex on official government documents in the middle of the pandemic because they thought they are being sneaky about it

And let's see what's happening now:

- people on facebook campaigning for straight pride

- the Hungarian government is trying to pass a bill that would ban LGBT themed educational programs and public service advertisements

The tiktok that I attached above talks about it more in detail, here's the transcript:

"Hungarian government launches Russian-style attack on freedom of speech and children's rights. The Hungarian ruling party, Fidesz, introduced an amendment that would severely restrict freedom of speech and children's rights by banning LGBTQI- themed educational programs and public service advertisements. Out of Hungarian LGBTQI people, 42% have thought about su*cide and 30% have attempted it. This new amendment - which eerily mimics the Russian propaganda law would further poison public opinion.

Following in Russian footsteps, Fidesz has introduced a propaganda law unheard of in other European countries. They would ban the 'portrayal and promotion of homosexuality and trans identities' in schools and in public service advertisements for persons under 18.

This step endangers the mental health of LGBTQI youth by making it harder for them to receive preventive education and affirmative support in due time. They have a right to an education which helps them develop into healthy, fully rounded people, which means they should receive relevant and comprehensive information about their sexuality and family life.

The European Court of Human Rights has emphasised that legislations like this only strengthen prejudice and homophobia which is incompatible with democratic values. If the bill passes children will be even more vulnerable to bullying, even though the situation is already grave: according to a survey from 2020, half of the responding teachers experienced prejudice towards LGBTQI people among their students. The government trying to ban exactly those informative sensitivity trainings that could help fight these prejudices.

According to a study conducted by Háttér Society in 2017, more than half of LGBTQI youth have felt unsafe at school because of their sexual orientation, and 37% because of their gender expression. Nearly two-thirds of LGBTQI students were verbally harassed for their sexual orientation and more than half for their sexual expression. Lastly 13% of LGBTQI students were subject to physical abuse at school because of their sexual orientation and 10% because of their gender identity or gender expression, they were hit, kicked or wounded with some object.

Out of Hungarian LGBTQI people, 42% have thought about su*cide and 30% have attempted it. Research by ILGA-Europe has also shown that LGBTQI youth commit suicide mostly because they find their situation hopeless, the exclusion and harassment they experience within the family, in education, or in their peer or religious community is considered unbearable. The Hungarian state is now planning to intensify the suffering of LGBTQI youth, following in the footsteps of those autocratic states which the government has an increasingly friendly relationship with. We call on the government to withdraw the amendment and the opposition not to vote on the bill in this form"

I don't want to take away your joy and I'm not telling you to stop enjoying pride month, I'm just saying that if you are in a country where you can freely celebrate pride month appreciate it, because it is a privilege, a privilege that we don't have here. So if you are from a country like that, speak up on this, talk about it, do something with your privilege.

#pride month #pride #lgbt #lgbt+ #lgbt rights #happy pride 🌈 #lgbtq #hungary #hungarian #politics #witch #witchy #witchblr #witchcraft #not witchy #but im adding the tags so more people can see it

[first-edition-dumpster-fire]

“Let me help you...”

Fandom: Twilight

Pairing: Jasper x Bella, mostly canon pairings

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI, f.masturbation, oral (f.receiving), somewhat cheating, thigh riding, cowgirl position, cream pie. Mentions of su!cide like once, inappropriate language, toxic relationships, too long

I paced the length of my room heatedly, frustration and irritation leaking out of my very pores. The rain slammed into the window violently and had been since he’d left. Again.

It wasn’t unusual for Edward and I to get into fights like these ever since we’d gotten home from Volterra. More often then not, he’d say his piece, ignore me, and take off in a fit of self-righteousness and self-hatred. A strange combination if I ever saw one.

When we got back, things were tense, awkward, and I didn’t know how to fix it. If I even wanted to at all. I was long tired of practically breaking my back and risking my life to make him happy only to get tossed aside like I didn’t matter. He made it clear what mattered most to him and what I wanted wasn’t even on the list. To make matters worse, his animosity only grew after the majority of his family sided in favor of turning me into one of them. It hurt that he’d rather hide me away and constantly risk my life along with the lives of his family just to keep me human without considering my thoughts or feelings on the matter.

What I wanted, all I’d ever wanted, was to be his equal. For him to see me as beautiful, strong and powerful as I saw him. I loved him with every fiber, cell, molecule of my being and he loved me. Loved me enough that he was going to kill himself to avoid living on without me. Enough to put himself through agony and constantly test his control just to be in the same room as me. He loved me. He lived for me.

At least, that’s what I thought, anyways. Our newest argument tested my resolve a lot more than our other ones. Like every other time, we were arguing about my change. While I just wanted to confirm the date for my change, he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that he’d lost the debate on whether or not I’d become like him. He insisted that he wouldn’t turn me, that he forbade anyone else from doing it, and that he didn’t want to hear me being up something so stupid and meaningless again.

It’s safe to say that his words hurt a bit. The oh-so-meaningless topic that he so desperately wanted to avoid was what gave him his family. It’s what allowed us to fall in love. It gave him unfathomable abilities that most could only dream about. And without it, the lives of all the people we cared about, and our own, would be in danger. I told him as much. Then it got worse.

Usually when we argued, Edward ignores what I have to say, insists that he’s in the right, and leaves when I don’t cave. He always returns and never insults me. Except this time, he did.

“You are so stupidly naive, Bella! I’m a vampire, I would know better then you, and I do! Its my job to take care of you, not that you make it easy. You never make it easy for me! You’re so selfish and you do it on purpose, it’s as if you enjoy being such a burden!”

I had stood there silently for a pause. Partially in shock but mostly in an embarrassed rage. Did he have any idea how guilty I’ve felt these last few months for making him and his family leave? How much I’ve hated myself for constantly being in danger and relying on the protection from him and the pack? And how dare he talk to me like that in my own home, when it was him who revealed my existence to the Volturi and put us all in danger?!

“Get out,” I hissed through gritted teeth, staying conscious of the fact that Charlie was asleep in the other room. It’s not like Edward couldn’t hear me perfectly anyway.

“Bella-“ I didn’t want to hear him lecture me or placate me or blame me. In fact, I didn’t want to hear his voice at all, not unless he came to his senses and agreed to the change.

“No, Edward! I want to be alone! Go away!” I raised my voice, a silent threat to wake Charlie and he knew it.

He glared at me bitterly. “I’m going to go hunt with Emmett, I’ll be here before you wake up.”

“Don’t bother. Just leave, Edward,” I whisper, exhausted by the argument and debating why I even bothered at all. I only vaguely remember why we started fighting in the first place.

A big thing that changed when the Cullens returned was my relationship with some members. With Esme gone, I’d realized how I missed having an actual mother and embraced her gratefully. Alice and I’s relationship grew strained after her encouragement of Edward’s unsavory behavior. Rosalie filled that spot as I spent more time with Emmett. Realizing our similar experiences, if opposing viewpoints, brought us closer together. Carlisle became wasn’t the same savior I thought he was, also allowing Edward to do what he wanted even though, as coven leader, he had the final say on major decisions. I knew he was mournful about our change in dynamics, but I couldn’t bring myself to forgive him, yet.

Jasper and I still didn’t talk too much, and it was made even more obvious that he tried to avoid me, even if it seemed like he didn’t want to. I constantly sought him out to explain that I didn’t blame him for my birthday and that I’d like to get closer to him. He just never gave me the chance. I knew he and Alice called it quits and it seemed like the divorce made him even more isolated that before. In the seven months I spent in my depression, I thought of Jasper often. I was distraught with guilt over my part in their leaving, I couldn’t imagine how he felt. Over time, the guilt turned into genuine feelings for him.

He consumed my thoughts, dreams and fantasies. Every time I closed my eyes, his blond hair and lopsided smirk greeted me. And when I was with Edward, I wanted Jasper. Like earlier tonight, when kissing Edward I pretended he was Jasper and got a bit too enthusiastic. Edward pulled himself away to prevent himself from “making a mistake”, the final straw.

Screw Edward.

Now I was without him again, and unlikely to take him back this time, and it wasn’t nearly so painful. I’d outgrown, out-matured Edward. And my thoughts about Jasper’s lips and body kept me from being truly upset about it. If anything, I was incredibly horny. A deep ache had settled into the pit of my stomach, neglected in favor of my Edward-induced rage. Now, it had risen to a fiery inferno of lust.

I thought back to a conversation I had with Angela while helping her with her graduation invites. We were gossiping about our relationships when she brought up sex. Though it embarrassed me to admit that I was still a virgin, Angela quickly assured me that sex wasn’t what it was all cracked up to be most of the time and that when her and Ben had sex for the first few times, she didn’t come at all. We got into the topic of masturbation and how to pleasure yourself. I left her home red faced and couldn’t look Edward in the eyes for a good while after that.

Feeling defeated and aroused, I climbed up on my bed and straddled one of my pillows. Shifting it to match Angela’s description, I lined the edge up with my slit and lowered my body onto it. The stimulation was a soothing balm to the ache of my neglected cunt, but it also wasn’t enough. I experimentally rolled my hips, the course material sliding along my clit in a way that made me gasp. I repeated the motion a few more times to get into a good rhythm before speeding up the pace. I had to drag my pillow back into place a couple of times because the force of my movements pushed it away. I slammed a palm onto the wall in front of me and leaned forward to hit a better angle. My hair fell in my face and stuck there due to built up sweat. I sunk my face into another pillow and let it muffle my whines and moans.

Leaning back, I changed the rhythm and tweaked my pebbled nipples, struggling to find the one thing that would push me over the edge. I was so close, the coil in my stomach building up but never peaking. Growing more and more helpless, I aggressively humped my pillow, needing to come. I paid little attention to the evidence of my arousal staining the pillowcase and focused entirely on how I could find release.

Letting my imagination run wild, I indulged in all of my secret fantasies that I’d never considered before. I imagined different positions and kinks, as well as foreplay. The thing that got me going was the dirty things I’d imagined Jasper saying as he wreaked my body. His voice in my fantasy was rough, deep, demanding and used to respect and obedience. Accent prominent as he bent me to his will. I felt my clit twitch the smallest bit and hurried to redirect my thoughts. Despite my feelings for him, getting off to my boyfriend’s recently-divorced brother’s voice was a new type of wrong. Especially since his ex-wife was my friend.

I couldn’t help it, though, and more thoughts about him invaded my mind. My fantasies took a different shape and went from focusing on me receiving pleasure to Jasper’s ministrations on my wanton body. In every fantasy, at every angle, I saw his handsome face and strong body maneuvering my own into bliss.

Feeling all types of wrong for how close I was, so so close, I opened my eyes with my head in the direction facing the window. I locked gaze with a pair of familiar golden eyes.

They very ones I’d been very close to orgasming to.

~*~

Running full speed to the Swan residence that was home to the family human and future vampire of our coven, I pondered all of the changes that have occurred over the past year to my family. It was the twentieth year of my abstinence of human blood in a row and the first time I’ve gone more than a decade without killing a human. There were few close calls as well, not including my almost attacking Bella, the aforementioned human. I had much to be grateful for, almost enough to match up to my regrets, both as a human and as a vampire. Lying about my age to join the C*nfederate army. Wanting to join that side of the war at all. My actions as the major in Maria’s army. The humans I slaughtered. Not killing Maria. Letting Carlisle pressure me into marrying Alice even though neither of us wanted it. Every single one of my slips. Most importantly, however, the only near slip that would scar me for life was almost murdering Isabella Swan on her eighteenth birthday.

Though I didn’t trust or like her much at first, she’d grown on me the same way she did the rest of our family, even Rose, though she’d never admit it to Bella’s face. We were ostracized even from other vampires for our way of life, not to mention the fearful humans, it was breath of fresh air to be so kindly accepted by someone like Bella. Not only did she accept us all for what we were, she praised the very thing that made us outcasts from everyone else. Her kindness and generosity for the undeserving was unwavering and magnetic.

Speaking of undeserving, I couldn’t believe that an angel such as herself could forgive us all so easily, especially Edward. On the night of the vote, as Esme swept up the shattered glass after our positions on Bella’s dilemma were decided, Bella had divulged her reasoning for accidentally breaking our window. The amount of mistrust and rage that flew off of me the second I heard about what Edward did and said to her before we left was palpable enough to affect Bella, a sense of betrayal lingering on her soft skin.

He never told us exactly what happened that afternoon, just that I had terrified her enough to break up with Edward and that he couldn’t stay in the place where he’d gotten his undead heart broken. He’d never mentioned that he was the one who shattered her heart and soul, nor the cruel words and harsh actions he’d used to do it. We acted as if her truth was the only one we’d known of and assured her that she was apart of this family, with or without her relationship with Edward. At a level she couldn’t understand, though, we took turns verbally harassing Edward for his actions and his part in hurting the poor girl.

And of course, Alice had known the whole time, before anyone else. She’d known months before that Edward was going to end things with Bella and how she’d end up as a result. She, Bella’s best friend, knew the agony she would experience and still let Edward destroy her.

Alice and I had already been separated at this point, our combined anger at my actions created a wedge in our already fractured relationship. When we’d met, we both instantly knew we weren’t right for one another in the long run. We didn’t fit correctly and didn’t want to change ourselves that much to try. Joining up with the Cullens put our arrangement with one another in jeopardy when Carlisle conditioned that in order for us to stay with them, I had to marry Alice. While I didn’t mind my pixie haired companion, and certainly enjoyed relieving stress with her, I knew neither he or myself wanted to be tied down to each other that way. But I caved in, I was grateful to her and did love her in a way, and definitely didn’t want to risk the alternative of leaving the Cullens when we’d gone through so much just to find them.

We only married once, with the Cullens present as witnesses, and only wore our rings for about a year. On all of our legal documents for when we changed locations, I put her down as my wife, but other than that I never brought up the fact that we were married and she didn’t, either.

I should’ve known our relationship was coming to a close when we’d stopped having sex. Right around the time she saw Bella enter our lives for the first time. Looking back, I should’ve been suspicious about why she no longer came to me in the dead of night the same night the police Chief’s daughter arrived. I was too blind about Edward’s odd behavior and subsequent obsession to actually question her about it. Living with the Cullens and their tamer lifestyle was making me soft.

When Bella entered our lives, Alice was ecstatic, happier than I’d ever seen her. Enthralled by her new playmate and best friend, I’d forgotten the shift in our dynamic in favor of my own interest in my brother’s young girlfriend. She was absolutely fascinating in just about every way. I felt as warm as a human experiencing what she felt when she was around us. So inviting, and curious, and sweet. I barely noticed her scent, only taking note when it heavily affected Edward.

Alice was their biggest supporter, drowning out any of their doubts or worries with a bright, knowing smile. God, I hated how much she knew. She knew everything and at the same time, nothing.

She saw far enough in the future to picture the things she wanted through rose-tinted glasses, and going through the motions to make they happened. She didn’t care of the consequences, why would she when everything would be fine anyways? This line of thinking, her thought process, and what happened to Bella because of it, is what spurred me to turn our separation into a formal divorce.

Esme was beside herself, terrified that I’d leave the family once my tie to them was gone. That was only slightly true. Initially yes, Alice was my only tie to the Cullens, an affiliation out of personal safety. And yes, my tie to them through her was gone forever, but my years spent with them tied me to them individually. Conditions, rules and ultimatums be damned, these outcasts and freaks were my family and I wouldn’t leave them. Especially now that Bella was finally going to be apart of the coven.

The reason I was headed to her house was because Alice had informed me that Emmett was going hunting. Emmett was the only make in our family I hunted with on our own, I usually preferred to hunt with the women. I’d always been protective over women and I couldn’t abandon that instinct, even though I knew they could handle themselves just fine without me. I figured that this would be a good chance to invite Edward along to clear the air between us.

Things had been tense between Edward and I, he’d always been a bit more distrustful of me then everyone else and my loss of control at Bella’s birthday party cemented this. Part of the reason he’d left after we made our leave with Forks was because he thought I’d wanted Bella for myself. I wasn’t going to lie, I am a man and human or not, she was an attractive girl, if a bit young. And her compassion towards me, that no one but Esme and Carlisle ever afforded me was invigorating. As his brother, though, Edward should’ve known I’d never let my feelings get in the way of his first chance at happiness.

Unfortunately, he’d never let go of his grudge, even now that he was reunited with Bella. I’d resolved that whatever problems they were currently having in their relationship were none of my business and respected his wish to keep my distance. I’ll admit, though, it was hard and uncomfortable, seeing as Bella was always around and sought me out often. It only worsened Edward’s ire. Maybe a good hunt, and a fair tussle would straighten us out and he’d relax a little.

Nearing the line of trees on the edge of the Swan property, I smelled the aged scent of Edward, showing he was no longer here and hadn’t been for at least half an hour. He’d already left with Emmett, I realized. Alice probably knew and set me up for some reason.

I focused on the human residents of the household, one deeply asleep and the other...energetic?

Bella’s emotions were all over the place. Anger, guilt, love, attraction, insecurity. All at the same time. The two most dominant feelings, however, were arousal and desperation. I’d never felt such aching lust such as hers. It seeped into the marble granite of my skin, making me feel a bit perverted.

Curiosity overthrowing rationality had me silently climbing the tree just outside her window onto a branch with a perfect vantage point of her on her bed. Masturbating.

I wasn’t new to the concept of pleasuring oneself. It was natural for lack of an external outlet for lust. I just never imagined Bella being the type of person to do so. While I definitely knew well that she wasn’t a prude, unlike my brother, I figured she was unfamiliar with the action. I figured wrong.

Watching her frenzied movements as she humped her pillow in search of release, I swallowed back at just how wrong I was. A sheen of sweat made her bare form glow in the dull light of her room. The hair that wasn’t pasted to her forehead and wound around her neck tumbled down the curve of her back, the curls swaying frantically in time with the thrusts of her hips. Her breaths came rapidly, harsh exhales with occasional soft moans. She was actually speaking, but didn’t seem to be aware of the fact.

“Yessss.”

“Oh!”

“Like that. Just like-ah!”

“Fuck! Oh please, please, please!”

“Such a whore, yeah! I’m your the filthy whore. Use my cunt however you want.”

“Want it inside. Cum inside me. Want it.”

“Ooh, sir, fuck me hard!”

Each phrase that passed her pouted lips stirred me up further, coupled with her emotions, a single twitch could have me barreling through the window and fucking her into next week or falling out of the tree. I’d never been so hard in my life.

I never knew Bella had a thing for dirty talk. Is this what she dreamed about? Or was it something her and my saint like brother did in private? If so, why wasn’t he hear now. If I was her boyfriend, I’d never let either of us leave the bed. We’d be worse then Emmett and Rosalie.

Except she wasn’t my girlfriend. I wasn’t her boyfriend.

She was with my brother.

And I was watching her trying to get off like a pervert.

No, I wasn’t like a pervert. I was one.

Shamed, I turned to drop from the tree, race home, and pretend I’d never come here. Hell, I’d pretend to not even know where she lived.

Then I heard it.

“Jasper...” Was she talking about me? Maybe I misheard or she misspoke?

“Oh, fuck, Jasper, yeah! I wanna come so bad. Make me come! Let me come!”

“Jasper! Jasper! Jasper!” Each repetition of my name was punctuated by a roll of her hips and a whine.

I felt my eyes turn black as I dug my fingers into the tree, splintering the dark bark. I didn’t mishear a damn thing. And she was saying it on purpose. Whatever fantasy she was having, I was the star. I was the one who was giving her an orgasm. That thought left a possessive feeling in my gut as my cock threatened to tear out of my pants.

“Bella,” I whispered, palming my dick, debating on whether I should leave or stay to witness her expression when she came.

As if she heard me, she turn her face towards the window and opened her eyes, immediately finding my own gaze which was trained on her.

A moment of silence passed before she suddenly fell off her bed. A small thud signaled a hard landing and I dosed Charlie with another layer of tranquility and exhaustion to keep him from coming in here.

Sliding up the window of her room, I pounced on her bed to make sure she was alright. A pair of bewildered, wide brown eyes locked with mine as she lie sprawled on the hardwood floor.

“Are you okay?” It’s official, this is now the last place I want to be.

“Jasper? What are you doing here?” Great question. Answer mine so I can leave.

“Not an answer. I came for Edward. He wasn’t here. I thought you were distressed about something. You are not,” I rush out, her humiliation making me both turned on and uncomfortable.

Her face told me how stupid she thought my last statement was and I was glad her sole emotion wasn’t one of embarrassment anymore.

“Well, Edward isn’t here and if he knows any better, he won’t come back,” she says bitterly, anger clouding her features. Did she dump him?

“And you’re okay?” The thud I heard sounded pretty rough.

“Obviously.”

Do I leave? I almost don’t want to anymore. She’s treating me more normally than anyone has since we got back. But she was still naked and that was distracting for both of us. I look around the room and grab a lump of fabric off the floor and offer it to her to cover up.

The cloth turns out to be an unflattering and oversized sweatshirt in a shade of deep blue. It wasn’t hard to guess who gave it to her.

“Not that I mind, but what are you still doing here?” Bella brings her knees to her chest, slightly exposing her bare pussy to my excellent eyesight but I don’t point it out. The embarrassment has finally left her system and I want to keep it gone and myself here as long as possible.

“I don’t really know,” I answer her honestly, getting comfortable on her bed and shifting so she could join me.

Climbing on the bed and sitting as far from me as possible, Bella let’s out a sigh and continues to stare at me.

“So you and Edward are quarreling again?” Oh you’ve got to fucking kidding me, Whitlock. You have a gorgeous, semi nude girl who you caught moaning your name while fucking her pillow and you bring up her fucking boyfriend?!

Bella looks mildly irritated at my question, obviously still upset with my brother, but opens her mouth to answer anyways.

“It’s not just a fight this time. Actually I feel like all of our recent arguments have been leading up to this. It’s so tiring trying to argue with a wall. When he left, I just told him not to come back and I meant it. I’ve never done that before. But I can’t be with someone who constantly invalidates my feelings and risks our relationship for his own selfish reasons,” she bemoans, her misery at trying so hard for her relationship only to fail hitting her hard. As much as I thought she deserved better, Edward was who she wanted and she didn’t have him anymore.

“Well, either way, the whole family is in your corner, no matter what. Truth is, we had no idea what Edward had done to end things with you, he’d painted it make it seem like you’d ended things because I’d scared you,” I said sheepishly.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh no, that wasn’t it at all. I kinda figured he would’ve embellished the truth, but not to that extent. You have to know Jasper that I never once blamed you for that night. It wasn’t your fault, or anyone’s. It was just an unfortunate incident.”

Could this girl be anymore wonderful? Not only did she forgive me, but she was never upset with me in the first place? God, how did Edward not give her whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it. If she were mine, I’d be her loyal slave, and happy about it. I’d spend every moment bending to her every whim.

I wanted her to be mine. I just wanted her, period.

“Bella, you couldn’t possibly understand how much that means to me. I’ve been torturing myself with the thought that you feared me and didn’t want me around. So, I couldn’t be happier that you’ve said that,” I thank her, feeling as if I could cry if I had the ability.

Compassion and heartache cloud her face and she hurriedly rushes to my side, placing a hand in my thigh and the other cupping my jaw. How distracting! How did Edward resist her, I wonder for the umpteenth time tonight.

“Of course, not! I couldn’t ever fear you, Jasper! I should’ve come to you sooner and told you. I’m glad that now we’ll have the opportunity to spend more time together. Given my upcoming change and my relationship with Edward ending,” she added, looking at me through her lashes, fearing rejection.

Not only did Edward resist her but he rejected her as well? What the hell was wrong with that boy?

“I’m very relieved your joining our family for good. It’s been made abundantly clear that we can no longer function without you,” I tell her. I know what she’s trying to tell me but I’m done with her implications. I want the girl who was desperately fucking herself with a pillow like a little bitch in heat, I wanted her to acknowledge that only I could give her what she craved. I wanted her to beg.

Surprise is written all over her face. It’s clear that I understood what she was implying and she’s confused on my response. I’ll give her as long as she needs to figure it out.

Smirking, I stroke a gentle finger along her throat. As overjoyed as I was to find out she doesn’t fear me and never did, I was still dangerous to her as a human and she liked that.

“Um, I-uh, I’m glad too. No more of this fragile, clumsy human business anymore,” she stammered, her heartbeat racing under my fingertip.

“Durability is quite the advantage as a vampire. Though I will admit that I’ll miss the clumsiness,” I murmur boldly. It’s true, though. I quite like her fawn-like gait. Maybe it’ll transfer over as a vampire.

“Hmph, I sure won’t,” she bites out. Looks like I sparked a nerve. Interesting. Time to change the subject.

“What exactly about the durability entices you, Bella,” I drawl out, emphasizing her name with my now thicker accent. I see her throat struggle to swallow before she answers.

“Besides the fact that it’ll be harder for our supernatural enemies to hurt me or use me to hurt you?” Her bravado is clearly false but I applaud her for trying to fool me.

“Tut. Tut. Tut. I can tell you’re lying, Bella,” I admonish mockingly. She shifts her body to be leaning towards me and I notice that I’ve done the same.

“Um,” she begins nervously, unsure if whether she should say so. She continues anyway. “It would’ve been easier to be more physically affectionate with Edward as a vampire. Not that I want that anymore.”

While it made me upset that that was her reasoning, I can’t truly fault her either. She was truly in love with him before he’d fucked it up. It was clear that her ignored advances had made her insecure about her looks and I seethed at that.

“Who said Edward is the only one who wants you? And trust me, you don’t need to be a vampire to fuck one, I promise, sugar,” I coo, throwing her a bone to ease her esteem. She wants to be wanted, and I’ve long decided to give her exactly what she wants.

She gasps. “Really? I thought it was impossible.” Her confusion was so cute. Her furrowed eyebrows were so adorable that o though about the other ways I could make them do that.

“It is impossible, for a virginal prude like Edward. A boy who knows nothing of sex or how to pleasure a woman,” I declare, making the clear distinction between her and Edward. Their problem was that when he left her broken, he gave her the opportunity to mend her self into someone who outgrew and matured past him. An opportunity which she took.

“What you need,” I continue, leaning into her warm body and she leans upward to kneel above me, “is a man to treat you and that delectable body the way you deserve.”

By the end of my sentence, I have one hand resting in her thigh, just above her knee, and the other high on her waist, my hand having found it’s way under that horrible sweatshirt and my thumb skirting under her breast. Her hand had shifted from my thigh to my hip, fingers curving around my belt, and the one cupping my face now wound into my hair.

Breathing once again heavy, she again tries to seek in control. “And you’re the man for the job?”

“Fuck, yes,” I hum, meeting her challenge and slotting my lips against hers.

So soft and sweet, the flavor and feeling were addictive. I could see why Edward struggled, but I wouldn’t.

She kept mostly still while I kissed her and I angrily realized that this was a condition of affection with Edward. I egged her into kissing me back and ran my cool tongue along her bottom lip as encouragement. Falling into it easily, Bella moaned into my mouth and eagerly allowed my tongue into her mouth. Exploring, I slowly massaged her tongue with my own, a silent urging to slow down. I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and I wanted her to enjoy this for as long as possible.

But I guess months of pent up sexual repression took its toll because she ignored me and used her grip on my hair and hip to pull herself closer to me. Going at her pace, l pulled her by her leg to straddle my thigh. The same position I’d found her in when I’d arrived. She pushed her entire weight on me, wanting to get as close as possible, and I welcomed her happily. My thumb was no longer stroking her ribs, but clutching her tits and lightly tugging her nipples as I’d seen her do to herself. She moaned and ground her hips onto my flexing thigh, wetness seeping through the fabric quickly. Her pace was rough, choppy, so I grabbed her hips myself and symmetric her at a much smoother pace. Once she got the hang of it and was moving on her own, my hands returned to her torso to remove the one piece of clothing she had on and allowed me full access to her body.

She seemed slightly embarrassed to be fully naked while I was fully clothed and her hips stuttered. I once again got her going but I didn’t let go this time. Bouncing my thigh, I dragged her greedy pussy as she cried out my name and yanked my hair. By now, my leg was soaked and I pulled my lips from hers as she arched her back so I could give her neglected tits some well-deserved attention. Pulling a pert nipple into my mouth, I rolled the pink bud in my mouth and tugged gently. Non-stop moans poured from her mouth loudly as she neared her first orgasm.

Forcing her hips harder, faster, I helped her chase her release. With a final yelp, she let go and came all over my thigh, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open. As she calmed down a little, I checked to make sure Charlie was still sleeping and luckily he hadn’t stirred in the slightest bit. Good. I’d need him like that until morning.

Leaning away from her, I surveyed my work. Her legs were twitching slightly, pussy swollen, chest heaving with small marks around her breasts from my mouth, lips swollen and eyes scanning over me.

“Is something wrong?” She seemed to be perfectly enjoying herself but if she wanted to stop there was nothing to do than what she wanted.

“No,” she drew out, exaggerating the ‘oh’ sound. A small smile tugged at her lips.

“Then what?” Even now, she confused me.

“You’re wearing too many clothes. I want them off,” she commanded. How cute. She thought being a brat would get her anywhere. For now it would, this was clearly her first time and we quite literally had all the time in the world. Besides, it’d be more fun to let her think she was in charge for now.

I’d indulge her for now. “Whatever you say, Princess.” I felt her shiver at the nickname as I shrugged out of my shirt and mentally catalogued that response for later.

As she marveled at my physique, I pondered how I’d get out of my pants and shoes without having to move her off of me. The smell of her cum reached my nose as I got lost in thought while rubbing her thighs. God, she smelled good. Probably tasted even better.

Even better.

Focusing on her face and she waited impatiently for me to continue, I leaned back so my head hit her pillows, coincidentally finding myself on the pillow she was humping. Before she could question me, I yanked her forward to kneel above my face.

Panic set into her features as she registered my intentions. Doubts were intercepting her lust.

“I don’t want to hear it, Bella. I don’t need to breath and I have super strength. I’ll be fine. Get down here and fuck my face, now!”

Although the lust had set back in, she was still unsure.

“I don’t know why you’re so shy when you just made a mess all over my lap. And not to mention the pillow. Just do that again,” I ordered, taking note of a fresh wave of her arousal at my words and the fact that I was admitting to watching her. It seems my new lover have a thing for degradation and exhibitionism.

She slowly started lowering herself down, angling so that she was lined up with my mouth. She was going a little too slow but I wanted her to want this as much as I did. Still, as soon as she got within reach, I lifted my neck to plunge my tongue into her dripping cunt. Instantly, I started thrusting in and out while lapping up her juices and making sure my nose was hitting her clit. Her hands immediately yanked my hair even though she tried to pull her hips away from my insistent mouth.

Soon she was grinding against me and her little whimpers and whines reached my ears. Her thighs closed around my head as she dragged her slit up and down. I lazily whirled my tongue and moaned and the vibration caused shudders along her body, her legs starting to shake. She was losing energy but still wanted to come. I quickly removed my remaining clothes and wrapped my hands around her thighs and renew vigorously tongue-fucking that sweet pussy. Shoving my face between her legs fully, I felt like all I could see, taste, smell and feel was Bella’s cunt. All I could hear were her angelic moans as she again neared her second orgasm. I thought it couldn’t get any better for me. By far the best moment in my long life.

Then I felt a small, warm hand wrap around my hard cock.

Holy fuck, it got better.

Sure she was inexperienced and was clueless on what to do, but it felt fucking amazing. She pumped me in time to each of my thrusts into her. I started rocking my hips into her hand, keeping in mind that I had to reign in my strength as to not hurt her.

We were both moaning loudly, both so close and I wanted to come so badly but I couldn’t. I needed her to come at least three times before I did once and I needed to come inside her. As far as I was concerned, Bella’s pussy was my happy place. Truly magical.

Removing my hands from her thighs, I guided her free hand to her nipples and got her to start tugging on ‘em to her leisure. With that same hand, I entered two fingers inside her and began pumping those alongside my tongue. With my other free hand, I wrapped my fingers around the ones on my dick, showing her how to do it correctly and how I liked it. For future reference, of course. I was still holding out right now.

She came within seconds after that and collapsed backwards, head landing on my thigh. Again, I rubbed her thigh soothingly, wanting to give her some time to adjust. I wondered if she’d even last for another orgasm. I was surprised she could take, too. Still. One of these days, I was going to bury myself between her legs and not come up for hours. I wanted her to be crying, begging and constantly coming. We’d have to establish a safe word for a lot of the things I wanted to do.

As I was wondering if I should give her a break for the night, she suddenly turned around so her stomach was flat against my body, wrapped her hands around my still erect cock and began kitten licked. It took all of my strength, control and resistance training from over the years to hold back from grabbing the back of her head and fucking her beautiful face. That would definitely have to wait til she’s a vampire.

“Shit, baby, mmmm...” I groaned, ducking my chin to lap up the rest of her orgasm. She moaned against the head which she’d begun sucking on and I almost came all over her face. The thought alone was tempting. “So good. Fuckkk.”

I felt her satisfaction and elation at my praise and catalogued that one for later, too.

“Does it feel good, sir?” She tried taking me deeper but wanted my input first. What a good girl.

“So good, Princess, you’ve got no idea. Mmmm,” I purposely hummed into her lips and she mewled, lightly thrusting her hips into my all-too-willing mouth. “I thought you’d be too tired to continue. Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

This set her off into a panic, shocking me. “No! I don’t wanna stop, yet! I want more!”

“What a greedy little pussy you have!” I suck her lip and clit into my mouth and she sits up to try to get a better angle before pulling off completely.

I would’ve protested and tried to pull her back but she turned around completely to face me again and sat back onto my lap. So beautiful.

“You haven’t come. I want to make you feel good, too,” she explains shyly, glancing down at my bobbing erection.

“You’re so sweet, you deserve to be rewarded! Do you want my cock in you, doll? Want me to fuck you with it? Come in that tight, little cunt of yours?” Her eyes light up at the thought before a slight look of fear enters her eyes. Fuck, her hymen. I hope she’s not too scared because I can handle it just fine.

“What if it doesn’t fit? You’re big,” she frets. I try not to preen at her observation since it’s bothering her but I’m quick to reassure her.

“Don’t worry, it’ll fit. And don’t worry about me tearing your hymen, my control is much better,” I soothe, intertwining our fingers.

At my words, she giggles softly and then full on laughs at my face. “Oh, I accidentally tore my hymen years ago! Clumsy, remember?”

Leave it to the beautiful klutz seated in my lap to be the one calming my nerves. I could easily fall for her. I probably already was, but I’ll give her all the time she needs to heal from my brother.

I lie there, just staring at her, taking her in, before my little brat becomes impatient with me again. I’m going to have to train her about that. Oh, I couldn’t wait to punish her one day soon.

She grabs my cock and pulls it towards her pussy, running it up and down her slit, moaning lightly. Or maybe she was moaning really loudly, I can’t tell over my own moans and the ringing in my ears.

I sit up and pull her with me. I slowly began easing her down my dick before bottoming out. I wait til the look of discomfort leaves her face and start guiding her hips until she was bouncing on her own. I pulled her into a kiss as she struggled to find purchase on my shoulders, pulling her bottom lip into my mouth and her tongue tracing my lips.

She wraps her arms around my shoulders and move my mouth from hers down to her neck and shoulders and chest. She sobbing at all the stimulation she’s getting and I reach a hand down to start rubbing her clit. My other hand he’s to her tut to hold it in place for my mouth. I start whispering dirty things in her ears, all of the things I planned on doing, as well as sweet nothings, also things I planned on doing.

“Fuckin’ take my cock, greedy little whore!”

“Doing so well, baby, yeah, ride it. Use me.”

“Gonna to fill this cunny up all the way! Won’t be walkin’ for weeks!”

“Oh, you feel so good, sugar, the best! Wanna make you feel good!”

“Can’t wait to turn ya. Gonna fuck you on everythin’, everywhere. Bend you over. Fuck that dirty little mouth, show you who you belong to! You’re fuckin’ mine! This pussy? Mine! Ain’t nobody fuckin’ you this good! Ain’t nobody gonna! Ain’t that right! Don’t you dare fuckin’ come! Not til I say so! Beg! Now!”

Tears were streaking her face, legs shaking, hips stuttering and pace uneven. I almost felt sorry for her. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was still fucking me, holding herself as close to me as possible. Chanting my name like a prayer.

“Come on, darlin’, all’s you gotta do is beg a little. Say it, baby. Tell me how much you want it,” I huff, encouraging her. I was so close but I needed her to come one last time before I let go.

“Need it,” she shrieked, trying to find her words. “I need it, Jasper! I need to come. Want it more then anything! Love you so much! Make me come all over your fat cock! Make me yours, please! Please please please!”

“Let go, baby,” I amended, grabbing her hips so I could come right after her. She loved me. I was gonna spoil my baby rotten for the rest of forever.

She screamed as she came rutting frantically and clenching down on me hard. I started fucking up into her hard, thrusts going deep inside her. At the same time I was yanking her down the same moment my hips went up.

“Ooh, fuck fuck fuck Bella fuck fuck fuck fuck,” I growled, sending myself over the edge and she cried from the overstimulation. “Fuck! Bellaaaaa!”

I collapsed onto the bed taking her with me. Her hot cheeks being soothed by my cool chest as I played with her now tangled hair. She ran her fingers up and down my abdomen, feeling the contours of my body, trying to memorize it.

“Jasper?” Her voice was sleepy.

“Hmm?” I’d clean her up when she fell asleep and watch over her

“That was a bit intense for my first time.” Oh, shit! Did she not like it?

“I’m sorry,” I apologize, rubbing her back. She tenses up, suddenly rejuvenated.

“No! No! Not in a bad way! I can’t wait for the next time, actually. What you’ll do next,” she insists, smiling softly.

“Well, in that case,” I mutter as I flip her onto her back for round two.

Enjoy this, folks! It’s unrelated to my multi-chapter fic, though they share a similar plot

#jasper whitlock #bella swan #jasper/bella #twilight renaissance #fandom #fanfic #twilight

[kpop-cakepops]

Help// Johnny Seo

Anonymous asked:

“heyyy! can i make a request? Since i love suffering can i ask for some heavy angst with Johnny but with a happy ending since my heart is still weak? I'll love you forever if you make it possible💕”

(I had to repost this this way because for some reason the post couldn’t be found when I searched it on the search bar.)

word count: 2,864

WARNINGS: Toxic relationship (mental/emotional a*use), mentions of drug and alcohol a*use, attempted su*cide.

SPECIAL NOTE: If you are someone that is in need of instant help or that is battling su*cidal thoughts or abuse, here are some resources that might be of help. You are loved.(( Domestic violence crisis hotlines  Su*cide prevention Crisis Centers ))

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was complicated, to say the least.

Whatever type of bond you'd managed to concoct with Johnny Seo was twisted and cryptic and muddy and unlabeled. You found yourself often spending nights tangled in a spiral of lust, sweat and limbs with him, only to wake up the next morning and find him gone.

Uncertain.

If you had to describe Johnny with one word only, you'd choose uncertain. One moment he was by your side, the other he was gone. One moment he wanted to hold you and tell you about his dreams of making it big, the other he was in your face yelling and screaming rabid hell your way... just as he was doing right at that moment.

"MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T WHORING YOURSELF OUT TO JUST ANY DUDE THAT LOOKS YOUR WAY, MAYBE I WOULDN'T BE THIS MAD!" he screamed.

You, however, only walked past him. A numb expression plastered on your face.

Used to it.

"He offered to buy me a drink and I accepted. Get the fuck over yourself." You grumbled as you flopped on your couch and started to work at the strap of your heels.

"I don't think you're understanding here. I don't  like it when people look at or touch what's mine." He fumed. His volume was lower, but the anger and bite were still there, almost like he wanted to hurt you with his words.

He did.

"You're so unfair." You let out as you stood up, your height now dwarfed by his due to your lack of heels. "Do you have any fucking idea how I felt when  I saw you dancing with all those girls?! ON MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY, JOHNNY."

He held onto your wrist stopping you from stomping away from him. "Why, were you jealous?" He asked with a raised brow looking down at you provokingly.

"No... no I wasn't jealous but I did wonder why I had to put up with someone like you on my fucking birthday. I wondered why I keep wasting my time here when I could be with someone that will take me seriously. Someone that only has eyes for ME and who would be okay with just laying in bed with me and hold me-" you choked up unable to continue.

It was always the same. He'd yell, you'd yell back, he'd poke and prod at you until you cried. A cycle.

You shoved past him and stomped into your bathroom ready to shower and praying he'd be gone by the time you got out. You weren't exactly lucky....

By the time you stepped out of the bathroom you found Johnny sat on the ground, his back pressed to the side of your bed. "I'm sorry..." he mumbled barely audibly.

You ignored him and stepped up to your dresser. Your reflection only causing a tear to roll down your cheek as you untangled your hair. You really wondered when your reflection had become something you hated.

Warm hands wrapped around you from behind. Johnny's chin now resting on your shoulder. "I'm sorry... I really am sorry that I'm this fucked up. I'm sorry."

You remained silent as you stared at both of you in your mirror. It seemed that the 2 people you'd been when you met 2 years before had disappeared. "Johnny... what are we going to do?" You finally ask.

His eyes meet yours on the mirror and you could tell he's confused. "What?"

"In the future. What do you want? Who do you want to be?" You pried his hands from your body and turned so you were facing him with your arms crossed.

He was scared.

"I don't  know." He admitted. "What do you want?"

"I want to fall in love" you admitted looking at the ground. "I want to fall in love, I want to get married... I want to have a family."

Something in your words caused Johnny to lose his breath. "What does that mean?" He asked.

"It means that I'm scared, John. I'm scared that I'm gonna be stuck being in love with you all by myself for the rest of my life. I'm scared that I'm gonna be stuck chasing after you all my life. I don't want that." You finally let out.

Johnny didn't like it when you talked that way. It scared the daylights out of him to hear you talk about commitment and a family. Why couldn't life be simple? Why couldn't love be easy?

"I..." he couldn't bring himself to say it. He knew he loved you. He knew he wanted you to be with him forever. You were, after all, the reason he was sane and sober. Yet to you, his lack of words meant he didn't.

"You understand that I can't do this forever right?" You finally asked. He wasn't looking at you, his hands were clasped to his sides and his eyes locked on the ground. You waited for him to say something, anything to stop you from doing what you were about to.

"Johnny?" You asked almost pleading him to speak.

He didn't.

"I think you should go." You spoke again. He visibly flinched at that. His eyes finally snapping up to meet your teary ones. "This isn't going to work. I don't have the strength nor the patience to do this anymore. You can pick up your things some other day, but for now please just go"

"Y/N-"

"Go." You groaned not wanting to give in. You knew that if you let him talk he'd somehow convince you to not end things the way you were.

So he left and didn't return. Johnny had gotten the message very clearly. You didn't want to see or hear from him and he tried to understand.... but why was his heart hurting as much as it did. Why were people asking him if he was okay? Why was it that whenever he fucked some random girl in a bathroom stall of whatever musty club he'd stumbled into, all he could think of was you?

Why would he cry?

It would stop at some point, right? He'd stop hurting and crying over you someday, right?

Right. He stopped.

He wasn't sure what scared him most, the previous pain of not seeing you or the fact that he was no longer feeling anything at all. The fact that he was numb all the time and every single emotion he showed was a half-assed reflection of what his friends and the people around him were feeling... yet none of that was real, none of those feelings were his. Johnny couldn't even pinpoint the last time he'd genuinely laughed in the past 4 months... the 4 months he'd spent away from you.

Falling down a spiral of old bad habits is exactly what Johnny found himself doing. Medicating and drinking until he was hallucinating about you, it was the only way he could feel what he used to feel. It was the only way he could see you.

It's also how he found himself calling you in the middle of the night.

"Hello?" You groaned.

"Why do we have to have a label?" He asked, voice slurred. "Why can't we just continue to say we're just friends? Why do we have to complicate shit so much? No one labels shit nowadays, why do we have to be different?"

"Johnny?" You asked. The sleep was gone out of your voice as soon as you realized the state he was in.

"If you want to hear it so bad, then yes. I love you. I fucking love you" he exclaimed into the phone. "At first I just wanted us to fuck but-"

"John, you're drunk. Where are you?" You snapped already putting on pants to go look for him.

"Let me fucking finish!" He yelled causing you to freeze on the other end of the line. "At first I just wanted us to fuck. You were hot and you were fine with it... but then suddenly, I stopped medicating and you gave me the spare key to your house, I was spending nights at your place talking to you about my stupid fucking dreams..."

He stopped talking and only then did you realize you were crying. You were already on your way to his apartment which was only 2 blocks from your complex. "Johnny?"

No answer.

A sense of panic invaded your senses and you started to run the rest of the way to his place hanging up the phone you found his spare key almost immediately above the door frame. Your panicked form stumbled into the dark apartment and towards his bedroom. The stench of alcohol took over the entire place, almost as if he'd purposely filled every crevice of his apartment with liquor.

"John?!" You called.

There was no answer but the soft sniffles coming from his bedroom had you instantly running his way. Sure enough, there he was, resting against a corner of the dim lit room. His knees were up to his chin and his arms were splayed to his sides with his phone laying  several feet away from him.

"Shit" you mumbled and walked up to him. "Johnny. Hey, can you hear me?" You asked as you took his face into your hands. He was running a fever.

"Y/N. You have to run away. Love isn't shit. Everyone leaves in the end, Y/N you need to run before you end up like everyone else" he sobs.

A tight knot forms in your throat as you hear him cry. It was a first and you hated it. You hated it to no end. "Johnny, you're running a fever. How much did you drink?" You ask trying your best not to cry. If you cried you'd lose it and what Johnny needed was help, not another reason to feel bad.

The intoxicated man pointed at the splay of bottles across from him and you cursed internally when you spotted what seemed like an empty xanax bottle next to the many bottles of liquor. "Oh god... oh my god. Oh God, did you take that?! Johnny did you take the xanax with the alcohol?" You wanted to scream.

You needed to take him to the hospital.. Your shaky hands reached for your phone and you instantly called 911 to get an ambulance to his place as soon as possible.

Everything that followed happened as if in slow motion. There were paramedics and an ambulance, people asking you questions, but you were too shaken up to even form a proper sentence.

When you got to the hospital you called Taeyong, Johnny's best friend. "Y/N!!-"

You cut him off instantly, "Tae, Johnny was medicated and drunk. I don't know how much he took but he's running a fever. I'm freaking out please come to the hospital. Taeyong I'm scared." you cried.

"What do you-"

"ASK QUESTIONS LATER TAEYONG, I NEED YOU TO PLEASE COME TO THE HOSPITAL!" you yelled still on the brink of having a mental breakdown.

Almost two hours had passed and you found yourself still sat in the emergency waiting room, your hair unmade as you waited next to Taeyong for the doctor to come out and tell you what room Johnny would be moved to. You had cried yourself dry by then, Taeyong's hand rubbing up and down your back to calm you down until you were both silent.

"Why did you go see him?" He asked.

"He called me... he didn't sound okay"

"When has Johnny ever been okay?" Taeyong countered.

You didn't answer because you knew he was right, Johnny had never been okay. Not before you, not with you and most definitely not after you. You used to think that you were doing him good by letting him depend on you for his well-being... and yet there you were waiting for him to finish getting his stomach pumped or suctioned whatever they did in cases like this.

"I thought I was helping him" you mumbled.

"Johnny needs professional help, Y/N. We can't help him alone, you can't help him alone. Look where we are. What would have happened had he not called you?" Taeyong snapped.

You could feel his angry gaze on you and you knew he had every right to be angry. Everyone around you both had warned you, everyone had asked you to be careful... but you both chose to go your own toxic way. You called it 'loving intensely' when in reality you were both so in love that you didn't know how to properly show it, instead playing a game of cat and mouse. Chasing, capturing, yelling, fucking, apologizing, never truly valuing the feelings you two really felt for each other... why? Because it wasn't cool? Because other people told you that love wasn't a real thing? Because labels were fucking stupid and both your parents were divorced and bitter?

"I know." You whimpered.

"John Seo?"

You almost sprinted towards the nurse as he called out Johnny's name. "That's us."

"The patient is stable. Had you come in an hour later we wouldn't have run into the luck we did today. He's going to be moved to an observation unit shortly. Just go to the lobby and they'll give you the number." The nurse looked at you sternly as he spoke. "And miss... if you and your boyfriend are seeking help, we have many programs we can recommend. We wouldn't ever want to see a young man like that lost to an addiction."

You looked over at Taeyong who was staring back at you knowingly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Johnny woke up only a few hours later, you were seated right beside his bed. Your head resting on the edge of the soft bedding, eyes closed and breath shallow. You were asleep.

Johnny's eyes took in his surroundings. His daze dissipating and final realization coming to him upon hearing the light beeping of the heart monitor beside him as well as the slight tightness of the IV stuck to his arm. His head fell back into his pillow and he wanted to scream.

Your eyes opened instinctively at the slight movement. "John?"

He looked down at you and met your eyes for the first time in 4 months. To say he felt suddenly disarmed would be an understatement. He wanted to rip that IV out of his arm and drop to his knees in front of you. Beg for your forgiveness. Tell you that he... loves you.

"You almost..." you trailed off. How were you supposed to bring it up? There was a tight knot in your throat and a horrible twisting of your stomach.

"I know" he rasped out, taking you by surprise. Your worried eyes moved to meet his teary ones. "I know because I was planning to go"

It was like all air had been suddenly knocked from you. "y-you mean... that was supposed to be goodbye?" you asked.

He stayed silent for a few seconds. "It was. Then I heard you screaming my name and I realized that I didn't want it to be. I realized I didn't want to die."

You weren't breathing. How could he... how could he want to end it all? How could he be so willing to throw his life away. Your throat was so tight as you bit back sobs. How could you have failed him this bad? "Johnny, I love you," you murmured as you felt his large hand take yours. "I'm so sorry, Johnny. I don't want you to die. I want you to live. I want you to be okay. I want us to be okay."

"Can we be okay? Haven't we done too much?" he asked shutting his eyes. He wasn't sure if he was tired, or if he just couldn't bear to look at the dark circles under your eyes. Probably caused by him.

"We've done too much of the wrong things and not enough of the right ones, Johnny... I want us to get better. We need help." You uttered. "Let's get help. You and me, professional help. They have so many programs, so many rehab centers to help people like us."

He didn't say anything to that. Johnny knew he needed the help, but he wasn't sure his ego would ever allow him to get the help he needed, especially if it meant being away from you again... Yet one look at your tired form did it for him. One look at you triggered the dark memories of the previous night. The way you cried by his drugged up, almost dead body. He remembered how much he wanted to live. He remembered the future he saw slipping through his fingers when he thought he'd be gone.

"Okay"

You looked up at him, he was avoiding your gaze, but something deep inside told you he was being serious.

"Let's get help... let's get better... and when we do, let's properly meet again, and give that future you want- no, that future we want a shot," he answered giving your hand a squeeze.

Relief invaded your entire being, a sigh of relief leaving your lips unconsciously. "Okay... we'll give it as many shots as you want."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SPECIAL NOTE: If you are someone that is in need of instant help or that is battling su*cidal thoughts or abuse, here are some resources that might be of help. You are loved.(( Domestic violence crisis hotlines  Su*cide prevention Crisis Centers ))

#Johnny suh #john suh #johnny suh au #johnny suh scenarios #johnny seo scenarios #johnny nct #johnny suh nct #nct one shot #nct 17 #nct #nct u #angst #johnny angst #johnny suh angst #johnny suh one shot #johnny seo one shot #johnny suh fanfic #nct fanfic #fanfic #nct angst

[cinnamon-grump]

This pride month got me thinking... seeing nearly everything that’s saying it’ll donate to a cause being like “a portion of proceeds will go toward the Trevor Project!”

Like... appreciate the thought for sure, but the fact that this is the ONLY thing i see, it really just highlights the fact that people don’t generally care a whole lot about LGBTQ+ people.... UNLESS we’re su*cidal......

Like you COULD be giving that same money to organizations fighting for lgbtq+ rights and whatnot, rather than.. only trevor project. But y’all don’t care enough to do the research to find any other org’s... i see.....

Like i said, i definitely appreciate the genuine concern and support... but there ARE other organizations and causes WITHIN the community. And while su*cide prevention is VERY IMPORTANT... it’s equally important to even just acknowledge the fact that advocating for and gaining rights for the LBGTQ+ community, and actually working toward making things better for everyone (like idk.. combating all the nasty bigoted laws being passed all the time..) would automatically reduce the number of people who want to un-alive in the first place!!! Like fck!! It’s not that hard of a concept to grasp in my oppinion and it just makes it clear how lazy so many of these businesses really are.

#shut up ash #pride month always makes me feel.... a certain way these days #tbd probably... im just tipsy and angry #bc i keep getting emails from things i follow being like uwu buy our stuff and SOME of ur momey will go to trevor project uwu #we such good allies uwu #like thanks but also shut the fuck up unless u wanna put any effort into this more than just doing what everyone else is doing #take two minutes even to find another cause to support #by all means yes support trevor project its not BAD #but fuck man... we matter when we WANT to live too damn it #and im obviously not talking about the companies th at just change a logo to rainbow n cqll it a day... they can suck my entire as s #im saying if any of these other ppl/oeganizations REALLY care.. at least a few of them could consider supporting us in other ways too

[nico-idc]

random vent because i'm numb rn and feel like it

This is a vent post, ill probably talk about su!cide, self h*rm, eating disorders and depression. I’ll also cuss a lot, and things will not be censored. Also, this may seem insensitive to people experiencing any of this, sorry about that.  Dont read this if youre triggered by that.

Also, this is my experience with mental health. Everyone deals with it differently. 

So, If anyone doesnt know, I have depression and anxiety. And right now, I’m feeling numb as it’s often described by people with depression. But, numb isn’t a very good description. I can still feel. I’ll still smile if you tell me a joke, or if something funny is on a video. I’ll still cry if there’s something super sad. Emotion is just watered down. I feel it, but not as much as I should. Me and my boyfriend were talking, and i couldnt tell him I loved him. It’s not becuase I dont love him, but I just cant feel much of anything, so I dont want to tell him I loved him. Becuase If i did that, I felt as though I was lying. The funniest thing is, I randomly started crying. Still felt nothing, but hey, I had tears streaming down my face. Who fucking knows why. 

I havent been doing to great for a while now, but this is the worst i’ve ever gotten. Ive never felt numb before. I mean, I’ve felt myself starting to go through the motions, but i’ve never gone completely numb before. And before this i’ve had a few mental breakdowns. Hell, I’ve sat in a corner twice in the past month or so doing nothing but sobbing and begging myself not to move so I dont grab something sharp and cut myself. (I did not relapse, don’t worry). and recently I completely broke down over simply eating a cereal bar, got through it, ate it. I’m good now. 

Figures. That does seem to be my experience. Oh no, big bad issue one time, then magically I just talk myself out of my bullshit, and im fixed. Ha ha, yet I act like I have all these issues. I mean, I didnt even attempt to starve myself, just thought “oh, friends and family wont let me” and didnt. Had a breakdown about a year later, been fine since. Cut for a few months, went to therapy for a few months, stopped cutting. had a few breakdowns about a year or two later, then was fine. was suicidal for a while, went to therapy for a bit, was happy for months. Had breakdowns every now and then, fine now.

ha ha, first time I say alot of this is online. Figures. I’ve done that a lot too. My boyfriend has found out a bit about my depression through this site. Becuase I cant talk to my boyfriend about my shit, but hey random people on the internet! hear about my problems.

So on another note, I recently found a song that describes part of depression pretty well. It’s called “i’m not dead” by boyinaband. it’s linked below, I’ll copy paste the lyrics, and explain how I relate, and what the lyrics mean to me, becuase why not? (lyrics will be in bold)

I'm not dead

I'm not fixed, but I'm not giving up yet

Basically, this means that im still here, im still depressed, but I’m still trying to fight depression. 

I'm sick of saying that I still don't have anything done

I hate telling friends I'm trying something just to give it up

I never commit to anything, I just say I’ll do something, then decide I dont want to.

I'm still unsure of my emotional state

I'm still incapable of focusing lately

I don't feel like creating

I'm tired of asking Google how to find motivation

I’ve been on break from writing for months now. tried to get back to it, lost concentration. I think this is self explanatory. 

I don't think I've ever made

Something that's as good as I'm capable of

Ha, I dont put in enough effort and commitment to make something as good as possible.

I hate not having a reason to look my best

I only ever take care of myself with the intent to show the internet

I mean, I dont try to show the internet, but I only take care of myself when other people will see me.

If what made me successful was an imposed sense of stress then

I am so so glad that I hated myself

The only thing that makes me do things is extreme stress.

I didn't luck into this position

I struggle with decisions

I mean, im not in any high position, but I do struggle with decisions. 

I wouldn't be my own friend

I'm too inconsistent

I’m inconsistent as hell. I’m in like 10 group chats, don't talk in any of them for months, then just show up like “hi, havent talked to you all in ages, but hi”. 

Without immense pressure nothing ever gets finished

If these words make it to your ears it'll be a fucking miracle.

Yep. I went on  whole rant about this on wattpad. Without pressure to do something, I don’t do it.

I'm fortunate to know more good people than most do

I wish I had more friends I could be physically close to

I dont personally have a lot of friends that dont live in my city, so the last line isnt an issue, but I do know a lot of good people”

I'm pretty good at like 20 different skill sets

At the expense of never being great at any one of them

I’m good at quite a few things. Drawing, math, even writing. But im not great at it. I’m average.

I wish this beat hit harder

I wish more syllables rhymed

I know 99 percent of people really don't mind

I dont personally relate to this, seeing as I dont make music.

I think collaborating forced me to finish things

'Cause I was terrified of wasting famous people's time

Oh yeah. Group projects would not get done if i wasnt scared of wasting my partner’s time.

I wish I could focus on what I define priority

I wish I was as grateful as I want to be

Dont really relate to these things

I wish I knew more people who were mentally stable

But if I did,

I wouldn't let them waste their time on me while I'm disabled

Oh yeah. Id love to have a friend who isnt depressed, but I wouldnt let them see that im fucked up becuase i dont wanna drag them down.

I feel alone

I know I'm not

I have a lot of friends, but I still fell alone in this world

I used to talk to lots of people.

Lately I've stopped

They didn't deserve it,

I've been a terrible friend.

But I couldn't bear to let myself become boring to them

I ignore group chats all the time. no reason. Probably shouldnt. 

I don't let myself get my hopes up.

I love people who do.

Something good happens? what could go wrong? that is my thought precess.

I never know if what I say I feel is the truth

I have no damn Idea what I think, so its so hard to know what the truth in my head is.

I wish I didn't instinctively try to be less specific

So more people could relate, when they read along with the lyrics.

Not lyrics, but if i write/explain something, I immediately generalize things so its relateable.

I can be happy in the moment

I am not when I reflect

I smile watching youtube, but then I look back and think about how I wasted time.

I distract myself with gaming, waiting to get better

I hate it

Youtube will cure depression right? /s

I wanna do the most good, and prevent the most hurt

But I've gotta put on my own oxygen mask first

This is just an important phrase I try to remember when I’m down. for people who dont do well with metaphors, he’s saying that if you want to help people, you need to help yourself first. 

I can't predict what I'll do.

I can never be sure

I am terrified of making promises any more

I can't face my work,

I feel sick from the word

I genuinely believe I'm capable of changing the world

Don’t relate much here, except for the more positive, upbeat tone the song takes on, and i feel that this part, the part above and everything below is dave fighting his depression.

I still think I can get better

I’m holding onto hope.

I still think I can create and get pleasure from it

I hope so, I want my art and writing to improve.

I'll keep aiming to make my emotion and my logic agree

The eternal stuggle. I always try to get the two to line up, it rarely works. I try to use logic more often though.

And become the best version of me

Always trying to improve myself.

I don't want to stop!

I don't want to stop!

I don't want to stop!

I don't want to stop!

There’s alot this could mean. I dont want to stop creating. I dont want to stop fighting. I dont want to stop getting better. I dont want to stop living. I relate to all these things.

I’ll expand on this more later, it’s too late now for me to continue this

#cussing tw #swearing tw #tw suicide mention #tw self harm #tw eating disorder #vent post

[eepy-swag]

As you're all probably aware of, September was Su*cide Prevention Month. As we go into October, I want to look as you'd imagine it. Depressed people can seem fine, laugh, go out, remind all of you that every month is su*cide prevention month. Check on your friends if you know or think they're struggling, and know that depression doesn't always but it doesn't change how they actually feel. Depression is a scary enemy to stand against and I'm proud of everyone who's doing it. To whoever might need it, know that if no one else cares about you, I do. Don't be afraid to reach out to me if you're struggling.

#suicide mention #depression mention

[cassandradodds]

4 Children Die from Pesticide Poisoning, Cleanup Produced Toxic Gas

Spraying Water on Pesticide Produced Toxic Phosphine Gas

In Amarillo, Texas, four minors died and at least five other people were hospitalized due to pesticide poisoning. Officials say that the pesticide, aluminum phosphide, had been applied under the mobile home. The brand name of the pesticide is Weevil-Cide. Attempting to wash away the pesticide, someone sprayed water, producing toxic phosphine gas. The victims who died ranged in age from 7 to 17. One child died at the scene and the other three died after being hospitalized.

The personal injury attorneys at Parker Waichman LLP have decades of experience representing clients in lawsuits involving alleged environmental hazards, including pesticides. The firm continues to offer free legal consultations to individuals with questions about filing a pesticide lawsuit.

KVII, a CNN affiliate, reports that first responders on the scene were also hospitalized for possible exposure to phosphine gas. There were 10 people inside the mobile home, officials say. Aluminum phosphide is used to kill insects and burrowing rodents. Combining this pesticide with water creates hazardous phosphine gas. The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) lists aluminum phosphide in the Toxicity Category I, the most serious designation. The agency notes that the pesticide has “acute effects via the inhalation route.” Breathing in phosphine gas causes pulmonary edema and extreme respiratory distress.

The victims who died were ages 7, 9, 11 and 17 years old. KVII reports that the mother is alive, but in serious condition. The father is reportedly in stable condition in intensive care. Four other children living in the mobile home are reported to be in stable condition in the ICU. The Amarillo Fire Department, evidence suggests that the mobile home residents had been inhaling the gas for up to two days.

Pesticide Deaths and Safety Precautions

According to the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, an estimated 1 million to 5 million people suffer from pesticide poisoning annually. These cases lead to “several thousand fatalities among agricultural workers,” the group says. FAO notes that “Most of these poisonings occur in the developing world where safe health standards can be inadequate or non-existent,”

However, pesticide deaths also occur in developed countries, CNN reports. In February 2015, an eight-month old Canadian baby died from a pesticide illegally brought in from Pakistan. The mother reportedly placed phosphine tablets to combat a bedbug infestation. University of Alberta pharmacy professor James Kehrer noted that pesticides such as this are particularly dangerous in children. “Children tend to be more vulnerable to agents like this,” he said, according to CBC. “They have a higher metabolic rate, their nerves fire in a little different way, and they don’t have necessarily as good a way to eliminate the chemical from the body once it gets in.”

There have been other high-profile pesticide poisoning cases as well. The pest control company Terminix was sued after using sulfuryl fluoride to fumigate a family’s home. The family filed a lawsuit alleging that exposure to the pesticide caused brain damage in their 10-year-old child. Terminix also agreed to a $10 million pesticide settlement, resolving allegations that it used a pesticide containing an illegal chemical in the US Virgin Islands. A family of four became ill while vacationing in the Virgin Islands after the unit below them was fumigated. “Terminix companies knowingly failed to properly manage their pest control operations in the U.S. Virgin Islands, allowing pesticides containing methyl bromide to be applied illegally and exposing a family of four to profoundly debilitating injuries,” said U.S. Assistant Attorney General John C. Cruden in a statement.

The National Pesticide Information Center advises several precautions for preventing pesticide poisoning. Users should follow the product instructions exactly as listed on the label, and mix any pesticides outside or in well-ventilated areas. When mixing or applying pesticides, children and pets should not be in the vicinity ad personal items should also be removed to avoid contamination. The organization also advises mixing only the amount immediately necessary; do not store or dispose of excess pesticide. Additionally, users should have a plan of action in the event of a pesticide spill. For example, this may involve using paper towels, sawdust, cat litter, garbage bags and non-absorbent gloves to contain the spill. The group cautions against using large volumes of water, stating “Avoid using excessive amounts of water, as this may only spread the pesticide and could be harmful to the environment.”

Filing a Pesticide Lawsuit

Parker Waichman has spent years representing clients in lawsuits over alleged environmental health risks. If you or someone you know is interested in filing a pesticide lawsuit, speak with one of our environmental attorneys today. For more information, fill out our online form or call 1-800-YOURLAWYER (1-800-968-7529).

from Parker Waichman http://www.yourlawyer.com/blog/19613-2/

from WordPress https://parkerwaichman.wordpress.com/2017/01/04/4-children-die-from-pesticide-poisoning-cleanup-produced-toxic-gas/

#4 Children Die from Pesticide Poisoning #Cleanup Produced Toxic Gas

[parkerwaichmanlaw]

4 Children Die from Pesticide Poisoning, Cleanup Produced Toxic Gas

Spraying Water on Pesticide Produced Toxic Phosphine Gas

In Amarillo, Texas, four minors died and at least five other people were hospitalized due to pesticide poisoning. Officials say that the pesticide, aluminum phosphide, had been applied under the mobile home. The brand name of the pesticide is Weevil-Cide. Attempting to wash away the pesticide, someone sprayed water, producing toxic phosphine gas. The victims who died ranged in age from 7 to 17. One child died at the scene and the other three died after being hospitalized.

The personal injury attorneys at Parker Waichman LLP have decades of experience representing clients in lawsuits involving alleged environmental hazards, including pesticides. The firm continues to offer free legal consultations to individuals with questions about filing a pesticide lawsuit.

KVII, a CNN affiliate, reports that first responders on the scene were also hospitalized for possible exposure to phosphine gas. There were 10 people inside the mobile home, officials say. Aluminum phosphide is used to kill insects and burrowing rodents. Combining this pesticide with water creates hazardous phosphine gas. The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) lists aluminum phosphide in the Toxicity Category I, the most serious designation. The agency notes that the pesticide has “acute effects via the inhalation route.” Breathing in phosphine gas causes pulmonary edema and extreme respiratory distress.

The victims who died were ages 7, 9, 11 and 17 years old. KVII reports that the mother is alive, but in serious condition. The father is reportedly in stable condition in intensive care. Four other children living in the mobile home are reported to be in stable condition in the ICU. The Amarillo Fire Department, evidence suggests that the mobile home residents had been inhaling the gas for up to two days.

Pesticide Deaths and Safety Precautions

According to the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, an estimated 1 million to 5 million people suffer from pesticide poisoning annually. These cases lead to “several thousand fatalities among agricultural workers,” the group says. FAO notes that “Most of these poisonings occur in the developing world where safe health standards can be inadequate or non-existent,”

However, pesticide deaths also occur in developed countries, CNN reports. In February 2015, an eight-month old Canadian baby died from a pesticide illegally brought in from Pakistan. The mother reportedly placed phosphine tablets to combat a bedbug infestation. University of Alberta pharmacy professor James Kehrer noted that pesticides such as this are particularly dangerous in children. “Children tend to be more vulnerable to agents like this,” he said, according to CBC. “They have a higher metabolic rate, their nerves fire in a little different way, and they don’t have necessarily as good a way to eliminate the chemical from the body once it gets in.”

There have been other high-profile pesticide poisoning cases as well. The pest control company Terminix was sued after using sulfuryl fluoride to fumigate a family’s home. The family filed a lawsuit alleging that exposure to the pesticide caused brain damage in their 10-year-old child. Terminix also agreed to a $10 million pesticide settlement, resolving allegations that it used a pesticide containing an illegal chemical in the US Virgin Islands. A family of four became ill while vacationing in the Virgin Islands after the unit below them was fumigated. “Terminix companies knowingly failed to properly manage their pest control operations in the U.S. Virgin Islands, allowing pesticides containing methyl bromide to be applied illegally and exposing a family of four to profoundly debilitating injuries,” said U.S. Assistant Attorney General John C. Cruden in a statement.

The National Pesticide Information Center advises several precautions for preventing pesticide poisoning. Users should follow the product instructions exactly as listed on the label, and mix any pesticides outside or in well-ventilated areas. When mixing or applying pesticides, children and pets should not be in the vicinity ad personal items should also be removed to avoid contamination. The organization also advises mixing only the amount immediately necessary; do not store or dispose of excess pesticide. Additionally, users should have a plan of action in the event of a pesticide spill. For example, this may involve using paper towels, sawdust, cat litter, garbage bags and non-absorbent gloves to contain the spill. The group cautions against using large volumes of water, stating “Avoid using excessive amounts of water, as this may only spread the pesticide and could be harmful to the environment.”

Filing a Pesticide Lawsuit

Parker Waichman has spent years representing clients in lawsuits over alleged environmental health risks. If you or someone you know is interested in filing a pesticide lawsuit, speak with one of our environmental attorneys today. For more information, fill out our online form or call 1-800-YOURLAWYER (1-800-968-7529).

from Parker Waichman http://www.yourlawyer.com/blog/19613-2/

#4 Children Die from Pesticide Poisoning #Cleanup Produced Toxic Gas