#sam and self-harm

[spinningspencer]

a/n: I had an awful day today and needed some comfort, so I decided to write some hurt/comfort headcanons with my comfort character Spencer Reid.

cw: Self-harm (mentioned)(It's the 4th one if you want to skip it, stay safe ♡), just generally having a bad day

☆Spencer Reid, who immediately knows that something is wrong, not only because he's a profiler but also because he just knows you so well.

☆Spencer Reid, who wraps you in a tight embrace, letting you hide from the world in his arms.

☆Spencer Reid, who is always ready to listen to you complain about what's making you feel bad.

☆Spencer Reid, who doesn't judge you if he sees new self-inflicted wounds, the only thing he asks is: "Come to me next time you feel like this, please?" looking at you with his big brown puppy eyes.

☆Spencer Reid, who rambles about the benefits of oxytocin (the hug hormone) while you two lay cuddled up on the couch, knowing his voice helps you calm down and find yourself again in that hectic mind of yours.

☆Spencer Reid, who strokes your hair while you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

#i need (someone like) him #hard day #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds spencer reid #why cant he be real #i love him #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid comfort #tw sh implied #tw self h4rm #tw self destruction #tw s3lf harm #stay safe #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #sam creates #sam writes #sh

[acesammy]

Sam appreciation week... Sam + trauma. Just some thoughts on what sam might look like in the later seasons

#I did not go very hard with this one but i do like this drawing #sammy #spn #samweek2023 #sam winchester #implied self harm #looking at this now i am definitely implying that sam is left handed #oops skdjfnskjfn #my art

[ikamigami]

Okay.. so I might be the only one who thought about something like that.. yeah I know I have paranoia and I love angst too much...

Remember how Moon gave Sun as a Christmas present a voucher for a week vacation wherever Sun would want to go?

My immediate thought was that this will be where Sun will kill himself (or try to)...

And Moon would get an unheard voice message.. with Sun's last words to everyone...

That way I think showrunners will be able to avoid YouTube restrictions regarding suicide...

How do y'all like my idea? :3c

#sun and moon show #sams #sams sun #sun and moon show sun #fnaf sb #fnaf sun #sams moon #sun and moon show moon #fnaf moon #tw suicide #tw suicide plan #tw self harm

[kimodraw]

remembered i never posted the comic i did for the @horrornaturalevent zine! it was fun to make yipee for sammy tits

#sam winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanart #tw self harm #tw blood #i guess #many things i dislike abt this now but its like more than a year old atp so. normal #the zine was rlly nice i love a lot of the artists in it :))) like emily :))))))))))))

[elmhat]

// dsmp rp

@sam-and-dream-week day 5 — "lava"

TW: self-harm, abuse

“Sam!”

The lava wall was bright. Dream still felt his eyes burning, just a little, when he looked at it, but he had mostly gotten used to the pain. There wasn’t much else to look at in here.

“Sam!”

He imagined he could see him on the other side, standing tall and proud and unyielding. He was always standing like that. What would he look like without his armor? Dream genuinely couldn’t remember. He couldn’t really remember what anyone looked like besides Sam and Quackity, and Quackity hadn’t visited regularly in a long, long time.

“Sam! It’s serious, please!”

Lazily, Dream raised a hand in front of him, stopping just short of losing it to the light. It burned, being this close to it. It shimmered. Glowed, like the sun. It filled his soul with more warmth than most things could anymore. Slowly, carefully and slowly, he inched his hand forwards, until the edge of his palm was grazing the surface and he was hissing in pain, pulling back, but he forced himself to keep holding his hand near it anyway. It was warm. Dream wanted to feel warm.

A voice from beside him. “Stop! What are you—!”

Dream was grabbed, hauled backwards and thrown to the floor. He smiled up at Sam; he hadn’t seen him come through the wall of lava, but he had known that he would.

Sam seized Dream’s hand, taking one look before slapping it away again. “That’s it, that’s your emergency? How many times have I— You can’t just—”

“Sorry,” said Dream, automatic. Half of the words he said these days were sorry. But that was okay. Sam was still coming and going at the prisoner’s whim, like the loyal lapdog that he was. Dream still had him.

“This is the last time I’m coming in here because of your— issues,” said Sam, spitting the word like a curse. “Understand? This isn’t gonna be rewarded.”

“You said that last time,” Dream muttered.

“What was that?”

Dream knew that it wasn’t rhetorical, Sam wanted an answer. So fine. Dream answered. “I said, you said that last time,” he repeated.

Sam’s stare was piercing. There wasn’t much else to do when the fury was this blatant, so Dream smirked up at him, feeling pretty proud of himself. It was what he deserved. Sam, predictably, reached down, and he backhanded Dream hard across the face. He grabbed his chin before he could hit the floor.

“Do you want me to bring Quackity back here?” Sam asked him.

Dream searched his face for the sincerity of the threat, and he saw only the warden’s mask. He didn’t feel warm anymore. He felt very, very cold.

“Answer me.”

“No,” Dream said quietly. “No, warden.”

Sam remained silent. For a worrying few seconds, Dream feared that he had pushed it too far this time, but then Sam stood, releasing his face in a manner that ended up with Dream essentially thrown to the floor again.

“I’m not healing that for you,” said Sam over his shoulder.

Dream nodded. Good. He didn’t want to forget.

~

[ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 ]

#tw self-harm #tw abuse #dreblr #c!dream #c!sam #drabbles #elm fics #my writing

[sunnysideprincess]

Steve running until he can't anymore. Chest and feet burning. His lungs feeling like they'd collapse

Natasha dancing until her feet are bleeding, her arms are shaking and her vision is swimming

Clint shooting arrows after arrows until his fingers are cut on the strings or he just can't feel his skin anymore

Bucky wrecking punching bags until he thinks he can feel the phantom pain of his left arm getting chopped off

Sam doing the most dangerous free fall dives with the suits, trying to feel closer to Riley

Tony taking the suit to dangerous new heights (to space), or dangerous new lows (to ocean)

Thor letting himself feel the burn of thunder, getting struck one two three however times it takes to know the hurt

Bruce sinking down to the bottom of the pool and sitting there calmly until he feels the acidity of water entering his lungs, until Hulk bursts out and spends the next week hiding under the skin of Bruce Banner

Just—Avengers and their unhealthy coping mechanisms

#avengers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #clint barton #tony stark #sam wilson #thor odinson #bruce banner #tw: self harm #unhealthy coping mechanisms

[solbach-colbrock]

Balcony - Seth Borden x Reader

SUMMARY - Seth, your best friend and crush, learns about the state of your mental health when an investigation starts affecting you. His response isn't quite what you expected

WARNINGS - Ghost stuff, mentions of self-harm and suicide (reader is NOT okay), angst (fluffy ending)

WORDS - 6.6k

NOTES - first fic I’ve written in a while and it ended up very dialogue heavy. I also didn't expect it to be this long but here we are

~*~*~*~

Sometimes you weren’t sure why you trusted these boys so much. Sam had requested two things of you for this investigation: one, that you didn’t do any research beforehand so you’d learn the lore from the guide, and two, that you all arrive in the same car so you can have the drive up experience with everyone else. You had gotten into the habit of arriving to locations early to scope the place out before anyone else and doing research before investigations, and the boys started to get pouty about not sharing the experiences, so you complied. It had also been a while since you’d been on an investigation with Seth, so you were excited to see him again. 

You had met Seth after the Sallie House investigation. The boys had immediately FaceTimed you after both the Sallie House and Villisca investigations (and every investigation thereafter that you weren’t involved in) to tell you what they had experienced, and he caught your attention quite quickly. The excitement in his voice and energy about his experiences drew you in somehow more than the other three did, despite Nate practically jumping around the room when he was talking about the 8-ball. You’d been friends with him ever since and loved teaming up with him whenever possible. You had even been on his channel a few times.

To say you two were close was something of an understatement. He had started calling you after his own investigations, and even showed up to your house all hyped about some evidence he caught on numerous occasions. The two of you had grown comfortable with one another very quickly. You had shared beds when locations didn’t have enough for everyone, you constantly teased one another, and you were more than a little physically affectionate with each other. Josh often teased you for being so affectionate, but you were comfortable. 

The first time the teasing bothered you happened only a few months ago. Josh, along with Sam and Colby, had been making jokes about you and Seth being practically married. You were about to respond with a bad joke about finishing paperwork, but Seth replied first. The laugh that broke up his words when he said he could never be with someone like you hurt.  The fact that he found the whole concept funny enough to laugh at shattered any shred of self-confidence you had left in you. He thought you were gross. You swallowed the pain and laughed along with him, but every interaction with him from then on made you feel guilty for bothering him so much.

Eventually, it got easier to act normal again, but the thought that maybe he was serious about what he said still lingered.

The majority of the hour-long drive to the location consisted of Sam and Colby quietly discussing their plans in the front seat, and you and Seth fighting over a bag of gummy worms in the back. Colby finally intervened when you managed to slap Seth in the shoulder with one. 

“Let’s film the intro before these two start a war in the back seat. Everyone ready?” Colby cut in, taking what felt like the 10th right turn the whole drive. Everyone settled, and Sam hit record. 

“What’s up guys, its Sam and Colby, and today we are bringing Seth and Y/N to the famous Haunted Miller House in Fredericktown, Missouri. We are currently… fifteen minutes away from the house. How’s everyone feeling?”

“I’m excited bro. I’ve been wanting to come here for like, almost two years,” Seth admitted as he leaned forward in his seat. You leaned in as well to be heard better by the camera.

“I’ve said this before, but the fact that it’s a house freaks me out just a bit. It screws with my sense of security when we do haunted houses, like, homes are where you’re supposed to feel safe and there’s fucking spirits here. No thank you.” 

“I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry,” Seth replied. You raised your eyebrow at him.

“Oh what, Ghost Bait’s gonna protect me? No thanks, I’ll just smoke the sage.”

“Ouch, damn, alright. Fuck me, I guess.”

“Damn, roasting him back here. Colby how do you feel about this place?” Sam turned the camera forward to the driver's seat, missing Seth’s pout and your finger heart to apologize for the joke. It was all in good fun and both of you knew that. It was funny to play it up for the camera.

Two minutes away from the house, Sam pulled out the camera again. It felt like you were almost out in the middle of nowhere, even though town was less than half an hour down the road. The property sat on 15 acres of land, which was mostly forest save for the few acres that were cleared out for the house and yard. What was once farmland on the south side of the property had overgrown and been reclaimed by nature, though it was still obviously used for farming at some point. As soon as the house was in sight, everyone let out their excitement for the camera.

The house was beautiful, even in its decaying state. Nobody had dared to actually live there since the 1890s, and it sat abandoned until the 1970s, when it was taken over for paranormal research. Many investigators had come through the place, and unfortunately in the early days of it being open to the public, many frauds had come through. It had been closed again in 1994, and only reopened by approved booking only since 2014. 

The house was three stories, in an almost Victorian style, with a white exterior and a deep green trim. Large windows covered a rounded section on the northeast corner of the house. Even with the peeling paint, it still held a certain elegance. Your jaw dropped at the sight.

“There’s a fucking wrap around porch are you shitting me?!” you exclaimed, admiring the architecture as Colby drove slowly closer. 

“This place is sick, dude. The architecture is amazing,” Seth commented.

“Haunted or not, I’d kill to live in a house like this. Let’s just move in and pretend there’s no ghosts,” you joked. Something clicked in Sam and Colby’s minds the longer they looked at it.

“Doesn’t it feel a bit like the Winchester Mystery house? Just a bit?”

“I was just thinking that, yea. A little bit, like just the style sorta…” 

As Sam and Colby continued talking to the camera, your eyes drifted up to a balcony on the third story, just barely visible from the front of the house. The railing matched the deep green trim of the house, and three large windows lined the wall behind it. You couldn’t figure out why it intrigued you so much. It was just a balcony, though you were sure the view over the north side of the property was amazing You hadn’t even noticed that the car had stopped until Colby opened the door to the back seat. 

“You comin’? We can take a minute here if you’re too nervous.”

“No I’m good, just spacing out a bit. I may need to crack open a RedBull already.”

“Don’t drink it all just yet. We’ve got a long night ahead of us. Come on, help me grab the equipment and we’ll head inside.”

Sam broke the news that the guide was running late, but they had told him where they kept a hidden key, so the four of you let yourselves in and decided where to set up home base for the night. Sunset wasn’t for another hour, so none of the rooms on the first floor felt very spooky just yet. You decided the living room felt the best, and everyone got to work checking batteries and equipment. 

“I’m gonna go wander around for a bit, see if I can find the bathrooms in this place,” you announced, having finished helping Sam sort out batteries and making sure your own camera was fully charged.

“Dpn’t fall in,” Seth joked as he messed with the settings on his camera. You flipped him off and wandered towards the staircase, shaking your head as the boys laughed behind you.

“Hey Y/N!” Sam called out.

“Yeah?”

“Guide should be here in about 20 minutes, make sure to get back down here by then!”

“I will!”

The house seemed fairly well preserved, though you assumed it had been at least a bit fixed up since the 90s. The winding staircase going up the entirety of the home seemed a bit too sturdy for its age. There was a large room on the second floor that looked to be a study or small library, with dust covered books lining the walls. There were two decent sized bedrooms on that floor as well, and two bathrooms, which you took a dutiful mental note of. 

The third floor was fairly similar, but with three bedrooms, and instead of a study there was a room that you presumed was a sort of living room area. There were gorgeous antique couches and rugs, mostly free of dust. Curtains, strangely, only lined two large windows on the east side of the room The windows on the north side were very bare, as was the door next to it. The door leading outside to the balcony. You walked towards the door, using a fair amount of force to nudge it open. It swung outwards, and the light breeze cooled your face as you stepped out. 

The view was beautiful, just as you had anticipated. You could smell the fresh air as it blew by you, feel the chill on your cheeks. You could almost imagine yourself laying in the large grass yard at night, listening to crickets and staring up at the stars. You told yourself you had to come back here once the sun went down, even for a five second glance at the cosmos. There was bound to be almost no light pollution, and you’d definitely need some pictures. 

The wood of the railing felt rough against your fingers, almost bumpy as you pulled yourself closer to it. You hadn’t quite realized how high up you were until you looked down. You stretched up to your toes to get a better feel for the height and then…something changed. Something felt different the moment you looked as far down as you could manage. Your hands gripped the railing, but somehow you felt oddly at peace. You couldn’t move your gaze from its downward position, but you didn’t want to anyways. You let your eyes unfocus, and you took a deep breath. Something about this view felt so… final. Your ears were ringing.

Normally you steered clear of heights, too afraid of your own thoughts and impulses to allow yourself near them. In this moment, it wasn’t the same. You welcomed it, whether by choice or not, you welcomed the feelings that were coming to the surface. You focused on the view. The changing view. It was changing…

A hand on your shoulder snapped you from your stupor, your head whipping in the direction of the sensation. Seth looked at you, wide eyed and confused. Your ears stopped ringing. 

“Are you good? I’ve been calling your name for a solid minute here. Did you see something?” You blinked, risking a glance back out over the trees.

“Uh, no, no. It’s just really pretty out here. Admittedly I did space out a bit, but I’ve just been looking,” you said, still unsure of what just happened. 

“I thought you were afraid of heights, why the hell were you looking down like that?”

“I don’t know, just… just looking around, honestly.”

“Well the guide got here ten minutes ago, I’ve been looking for you. Let’s head downstairs and get you an energy drink on the way.”

“Yea… you know what, I’ll meet you down there. I just want to get some pictures really quickly.”

“You left your camera downstairs. Are you positive you’re okay? You seem a bit out of it.”

“I’m fine Seth. I just want another minute.”

“Okay no, we’re going. You’re acting weird and I don’t want this to be some ‘call of the void’ shit. Let’s go.” His hand once again made its way to your arm, but you resisted his pull. You didn’t mean to, you fully intended to listen and go with him, but your body decided otherwise. “Y/N, you’re starting to freak me out.” Another arm planted itself around your waist, and you were brought inside. The moment you passed through the doorway, the pull you were feeling was gone. “You wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?”

“I don’t- I think I’m just nervous to be in here. You know how I am about houses.”

“We’re safe, we’re gonna sage as soon as the guide leaves. If anything goes sideways, we’ll leave, alright? Let’s get downstairs. They’re waiting for us.”

~*~*~*~

Marsha had a very captivating way of telling stories. You had heard plenty of guides tell their stories about their paranormal experiences and the lore of the locations, but she had done a good job of keeping your interest and making the stories seem just as scary as they actually were.

“Wait, so Edwin, the father, cheated of Gwendolyn with six different women, and then when she found out, she shot him in the cellar, went upstairs, locked all four kids in one of the bedrooms, set them on fire, and then killed herself?” Colby attempted to recap the story that she had just told. He was in a chair next to her, Sam holding the camera standing across from Colby. You and Seth were spread on on a couch across from her, listening intently. Your legs were halfway across the couch, knees bent slightly so as not to jab Seth in the leg with your boot. He leaned forward as Colby spoke, elbows meeting his knees and hands coming up to cover his mouth in shock.

“Yea, you’ve got it just about right there,” Marsha replied nodding. Sam chimed in with his own question from behind the camera. 

“So, what would you say are the most active areas of the house?”

“Most people that come through here say that the cellar, the dining room, the room where the kids died, and the balcony up on the top floor are the most active. You get a lot of stuff happening there. Some people hear stuff, some even smell stuff, and your equipment should be pretty responsive in those areas as well.”

“What’s significant about the dining room and the balcony?” Seth asked.

“Well people have claimed to hear a number of things in the dining room, whether its parties or Edwin and Gwendolyn arguing and throwing things at each other. We’ve even come in to see some of the dinnerware smashed when nobody had been inside for three days. The balcony is where Gwendolyn jumped off and killed herself. Y’all should be careful up there.”

“Hold on, she jumped? I read that she shot herself or drank poison or something. I didn’t see anything about her jumping to her death.”

“People used to think it was something else because of a fake medium that came through here in the 70s or 80s, but we’ve learned the truth since. By the way, if any of you struggle with depression, if you self-harm or think about suicide at all, I'd advise you don’t set foot on that balcony. It affects people that have that kind of thing bad enough.”

“How does it affect people?” You finally speak up, trying your best to keep your voice and expression one of genuine curiosity. You didn’t want the dread to show. You hoped she would say anything but what she was about to say.

“Well nobody’s thrown themselves off or anything, but it definitely picks up on those feelings and seems to amplify them. We’ve had a few guests and mediums tell us that they felt what Gwendolyn probably felt before she jumped. They said they felt rooted to the spot staring off that balcony, like they couldn’t move. They didn’t say they were scared when it happened, but they felt like they needed to be there, and they thought about jumping even though they couldn’t move. It’s only ever been people that hurt themselves or are already thinking about suicide, as far as we’re aware. So now we warn everyone about that. No depressed people on the balcony, we don’t need any more ghosts,” she explained, adding a small laugh to her final sentence. 

You looked at the camera, feigning a surprised face. You could feel Seth’s eyes on you, but you couldn’t look at him. Your cheeks felt hotter than they had a moment before. He had connected dots that you had hoped he would never connect, and now you couldn’t look at your best friend. You all thanked her, and you tried to be casual about your goodbyes. The front door clicked shut behind her. Sam and Colby went to gather equipment for the first investigation, leaving you and Seth alone in the living room. 

“Tell me what happened on the balcony wasn’t what she was just talking about.” There was a faint shake in his voice, as if he was scared of what you might say. He stood behind the couch now, a few feet from where you were still seated, eyes boring a hole into the back of your neck. You tried to think of a quick lie. 

“It wasn’t. I genuinely went up there to get pictures,”. You claimed. You shifted sideways on the couch. You were still too nervous to look at him directly, but you wanted to acknowledge him.

“Without your camera? With the heights? Y/N, you’ve always asked me to get the pictures that are anywhere near any sort of drop, even with guardrails and shit. You understand why I don’t believe you, right?”

“I am begging you to believe me, Seth. When have I ever shown signs of being depressed? I’m fine!”

You weren’t fine, and up until this moment Seth believed you every time those words left your mouth. You had developed quite the skill for hiding your issues, even from the people closest to you. Your mental health had been getting worse and worse, finally devolving into its current tragic state only a few months ago. You were so scared at first that they would spot the wounds on your wrists and hips immediately, but you had no such fear anymore. You had been hiding too well to worry up until now. 

You never wanted him to know, never wanted any of them to know. You didn’t want to bother them with this when they had their own lives to live and personal stuff to deal with. You didn’t want to hear the anger in their voices if they ever found out, didn’t want them to think you were weak or pathetic, but you couldn’t hide it anymore. Not from him.

“Please just tell me the truth. You don’t have to tell me how bad it is, but you need to tell me if it is bad, because not only am I incredibly scared that you haven’t told anyone about this, but this is also about your safety right now. If you’re- fuck, Y/N/N, if you're hurting yourself or thinking about killing yourself, we can’t go anywhere near the third floor. I might just take you home because I don’t want to risk this. Please just tell me nothing's wrong because I don’t want to believe what I’m hearing.” His voice was clearly cracking now, and you felt a pain in your chest every time you heard it.

 As you finally turned to look at him, your hear shattered. Seth didn’t cry often, but the tear tracks lining both his cheeks were so obvious. More tears spilled from his eyes as you looked at him, the look in his eyes a silent plea for you to convince him that he doesn’t have to worry about you. You felt so guilty seeing him like this. 

“Whoa, what’s wrong? Seth, what happened?” Sam’s voice came from behind you. You sighed and shook your head at Seth, whose eyes still hadn’t looked away from you. It was bad enough he knew; you didn’t want to drag anyone else into this. A beat of silence passed before he spoke. 

“Y/N can’t go near the balcony,” Seth said simply, allowing the others to figure out what he meant.

“Actually? Like Y/N… fuck, really?”

You closed your eyes in defeat, resting your head in your hands. The couch cushion dipped next to you as a hand was gently placed on your shoulder. Your knees drew closer to your chest. You hoped that, somehow, if you curled up and closed your eyes, this would just go away. 

“Look, we’re not gonna make you do anything like that, especially if it’ll affect you negatively. Even if I’m assuming wrong here, which frankly I hope I am, and it’s just the heights that are freaking you out-“

“It’s not the fucking heights, Colby. It’s not- they were on that fucking balcony earlier before the guide showed up, staring at the fucking ground. I had to physically drag them inside because they wouldn’t come in when I asked. It only fucking affects people who- God damn it. It’s already affected them and I want to get them the fuck out of this house,” Seth interjected. He was pacing now, picking at the sleeves of his flannel. You had never seen him this freaked out by anything. Colby’s hand moved from your shoulder to your back. You still didn’t want to look anyone in the eye, opting to peek through the gap between your knees to look around the room. 

“I-… I don’t know how long you’ve been feeling like this, and I do think we should talk about it at some point because trust me, its really important to talk to people about this stuff, but I kinda agree with Seth that you should probably sit this one out.” You whipped your head up and jumped from the couch, moving yourself across the room from everyone.

“No, for god's sake I’m a grown adult. I can make these decisions for myself. Put me on a leash if it’ll make you feel safer but I’m not leaving. I’ve been wanting to come here for months. Can we talk about this after we investigate, please? I’m not missing out on an investigation because you guys are overprotective. I’ll be fine.”

The silence that followed your words was tense. Sam and Colby looked back and forth between everyone, but you and Seth just stared directly at each other. The gears were turning in both of your heads, deciding what to do or say from here. 

“The millisecond you feel like you want to go up there you tell someone. Immediately. You can’t go anywhere alone, no solos. I’m not even gonna give you the luxury of pissing by yourself while we’re here. Stick with us at all times, hold my hand, whatever you need to do to stay away from that balcony. I will handcuff us together, I swear to God. I hate this but if you stay in my sight I’ll deal,” Seth rambled, stepping closer to you. 

You knew damn well that he would absolutely physically attach himself to you if he thought it was necessary. You also knew that there was no escaping the inevitable conversation that you really didn’t want to have. The investigation gave you time to prepare, or more favorably, give them a chance to forget that you’re not okay. As much as you wanted to go back to the balcony, you knew that realistically, they wouldn’t let you, which was probably for the best. Your arms crossed themselves over your chest. 

“Fine, fine. As long as I get to stay. Where’s our first stop here?”

~*~*~*~

True to his word, Seth did not leave your side the entire night. Even when he went under for an Estes session, he kept a hand on your knee, and kept a tight grip on your ankle when you went under later in the night. The higher in the house you got, the more you could feel the pull. Your name had come up a few times during the night, usually followed by ‘follow’ or ‘up’, which didn’t sit well with any of the boys. If the cameras weren’t such a constant presence, he would’ve had a firm grip on your waist, but instead he opted for the bottom of your shirt and your belt loops so the cameras wouldn’t pick up so much of the constant touch. You wanted to be annoyed, but you couldn’t exactly complain about having him so close for hours at a time.

The only place left was the balcony. The boys seem in consensus that Sam and Colby would investigate out there, and you and Seth would take one last crack at the dining room. You, however, had another idea.

“Can you give me the courtesy of hearing me out on an idea real quick? I know none of you like it, but I think we all know the best evidence we could get on that balcony is if I’m out there. It would- don’t look at me like that, I’m right. I’m not gonna jump or anything. Look, I was feeling something when I was out there earlier, I was seeing things, but Seth pulled me back before I could figure out what it was. I know my limits, just trust me,” you pleaded. 

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be out there. Even if there wasn’t a risk to your safety, this could trigger you or something. I just don’t think that’s worth the risk,” Colby argued. You looked to Sam for help, but you knew he agreed with Colby. “Besides, if people know the lore and then see you being affected by this, they’re gonna do the math. I mean, is that really something you want fans to know?”

“Fuck the fans and frankly, fuck the cameras. You know I rarely feel stuff like this during investigations. This is real, man. I was drawn to it before I even knew what happened out there. I wasn’t even trying to learn anything, I had zero intentions besides exploring the house, and it was that strong? We can't just ignore that. This will be good evidence and you know it, even if it’s just for ourselves.”

“I fucking hate this,” Seth mumbled, pulling you closer to him. “I’ll let you out there on two conditions. One, that I hold onto you the entire goddamn time we’re out there, and two, we have this conversation right after we finish, out in the yard. As much as I want to do it the second the cameras are off, I don’t want anything in this house feeding off of that energy.”

“You’ve been holding me this entire time, I wouldn’t expect any less right now. Yard would be smart… I just don’t want to talk about it at all. I’d rather pretend everything’s normal but you’re not gonna let that slide.”

“Well it isn’t normal, and we’re gonna address it. Now, do you want me to hold your hand or what? What’s the plan out there?”

“Estes? I can go under and hold the railing. I feel like that would be at least a decent trigger, give us some good results. If nothing else, I can just stand there for a bit and tell you what happens. It honestly felt like scrying just without the mirrors,” you suggested. 

“This is insane, I can’t believe you want to do this,” Sam said. He handed you the blindfold. 

“You spent the night in the conjuring basement Sam, you can’t say shit.”

“Fair.”

~*~*~*~

“Okay guys, we are about to do something… unusual for our last investigation tonight. This balcony is said to have a weird energy about it, and Y/N thinks they can tap into it. Now, even though our guide said there was no real safety issue up here, we’re still gonna be as careful as possible, so Seth is gonna hold onto Y/N while they go under for one final Estes session,” Sam explained to the camera. He pointed it towards you, already pressed up to the railing with Seth’s arms firmly around you. You slipped the blindfold and headphones over your ears, and focused on the static. The boys started with their questions.

“Gwendolyn, are you here with us?”

“Me. Hello.”

“Hi Gwendolyn. We just want to ask you a few questions. We mean you no harm, we just want to communicate and tell people your story. Can you tell us how you died?”

“Husband.”

“Husband… there is that theory that Edwin actually killed her and that he was the one that set the fires, and then killed himself in the cellar out of grief. Do you think-“

“No. No.”

“No, so you did kill yourself?”

“That’s correct.”

“Gwendolyn, why do you draw people to this spot? Do you want them to know how you felt when you died?”

“Feeling. It hurts. Can’t understand.”

“We’re so sorry that you had to go through that. You didn’t deserve for your husband to treat you like that.”

“Why did you kill your children, Gwendolyn?”

“Don’t talk about-… fuck you.”

“Damn, she does not want to talk about that.”

“Leave me alone. I’m going.”

“Where are you going?”

“Down. Down.”

“We want to ask you a few more questions, is that okay?”

“Deserve this. Nobody loves-… not worth anything.”

“That’s not true. You didn’t deserve wha happened to you. We’re so sorry you didn’t have a happier life.”

“Taking them with me.”

“Taking your kids with you?”

“Let go. Off. Borden. Go away.”

“Oh fuck no, We’re ending this.”

“Y/N. With me. Jump.”

Seth yanked you back from the railing as Colby pulled the headphones and spirit box away from you. You were drained all of the sudden, feeling a bit shaky and dizzy. Normally you needed to be under much longer for it to get to you, but this session really took it out of you, physically and emotionally. You didn’t even know what you had been talking about but you didn’t feel fantastic. He pulled the blindfold off your face when you didn’t move to take it off.

“That was fucked up. We’re never doing anything like that again.”

“What was the conversation? Did it make sense?”

“We’ll talk about it downstairs. I don’t want us to be up here anymore, but it made perfect sense. That was terrifying.”

~*~*~*~

The grass was soft, having benefitted from the recent week of rainfall. The stars littered the sky above you, giving you something to focus on other than the heavy silence between you and Seth. Sam and Colby were packing up the last of the equipment in the house, giving the two of you space to talk.

“It was like… the feelings weren’t mine. I fully felt them but it wasn’t coming from me? It’s hard to explain. It was intense.”

“We need to talk about your feelings. You keep dodging the issue and talking about Estes. You agreed we would talk.” You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to tamp down the nerves buzzing behind your rib cage. 

“I know, I know. Fuck, I never wanted anyone to know. I don’t even know how to talk about it. I don’t want to make this your problem.”

“You’re not making it my problem, it isn’t a problem in the first place. It is, however, my business when the people I love are hurting and I have the ability to do something about it. Just… don’t worry about phrasing it correctly, just say whatever comes to mind and we’ll make sense of it together. How long have you felt like this? How bad is it?”

“Since I was twelve, in one form or another. It got worse as I got older, and this is the worst its ever been. I uh… I do cut and I think about suicide a lot. It’s passive though, I don’t have a plan or anything. I just… I’ve tried so many things. Therapy has never helped, my medication does fuck all, all my coping mechanisms stop being effective eventually. It just feels so helpless, like I’m never gonna get better, so why would I put my energy into trying? Every therapist I’ve had has told me that it’s basically managing my symptoms and keeping afloat at this point anyways and I don’t want to fucking- I don’t want to spend the rest of my life keeping afloat. It’s fucking miserable.”

“Have you ever talked to anyone besides a therapist?”

“No, I hate bothering people with this shit. I feel like I’m needy enough without it.”

“You’re not needy, and this doesn’t classify as bothering anyone. It’s using your support system. We’re your friends. We love you. We’re here for you, so let us be here for you.”

“You shouldn’t have to fucking babysit someone that you think is pathetic! You deserve better than putting up with my bullshit! Fuck, I should’ve never come here! This conversation is over until you can get it through your thick fucking skull-“

“Whoa, hey! Y/N, stop!” Seth grabbed your shoulders, stopping your attempt to walk away from him. “What the fuck are you talking about? I never said you were pathetic, and you aren’t. Is this just the depression talking or has someone actually made you feel like you’re pathetic for feeling like this because I swear to fucking god-“

“Do you actually love me? Do you enjoy being friends with me or are you just tolerating me because I work with Sam and Colby? Please just fucking be honest with me. I’d rather have my feelings hurt now than have you put up with me out of obligation. I know I’m not worth the attention or energy most of the time. I know I’m annoying and add nothing to investigations. I add nothing to anyone’s lives and I’m just sort of here, but I just need someone to fucking say it to my face because I’ll happily leave if it’ll make your lives easier.”

You were almost shaking now, hot tears spilling down both of your faces. The heartbroken look on his face sent a pain shooting through your chest. You had made him feel like this and you hated yourself all the more for it.

“I have never, ever felt that way about you. You have no idea the amount of times I turn to say something to you during investigations and get sad when you’re not there. You’re the first person I run to when I have something cool to say. I choose to use my attention and energy on you because I do love you. I wouldn’t crave your presence all the damn time if I didn’t love the fuck out of you. You are not pathetic. You are my favorite person on this god damn planet and I’d give my left leg if it meant you would stop hurting yourself.”

“…Seth?”

“Yeah?”

“You… can you promise me that nothing I do bothers you? I just feel like sometimes I ask for too much attention or I’m too touchy or something. The fans are gonna be all weird and shippy after this video comes out and if you’d rather they didn’t see that sort of thing it doesn’t have to go in the video. We can even stop all touches altogether if you’re uncomfortable with them thinking-“

“I’d rather get possessed than not be able to show you affection anymore. I don’t care what the fans think. They can mind their own damn business. We’ve always been touchy.”

“So… the fact that they’re gonna think we’re dating doesn’t bother you?” His hand drifted up from your shoulder to your cheek, somehow colder than the air around you. You leaned into the touch gratefully.

“Not the worst idea they could have. Actually I kinda don’t mind the thought of it. Our friends are always teasing us for being a married couple. I don’t see how us dating would be much different than things are now. We’re almost there, we just haven’t managed to kiss yet,” he laughed. You we’re hoping, with every fiber of your being, that his laugh was more nervous than joking. You gently placed your hands on his chest and pulled lightly at the edges of his flannel.

“We haven’t kissed because you’d probably regret it,” you mumbled. The buttons on his shirt suddenly became very interesting to you. 

“Why the fuck would I regret it?”

“I’m not exactly worth bragging about. Besides, now that you know that I’m all kinds of fu-“

His lips were warm on yours. The taste of tears lingered in the corners of your mouths. Your grip on his shirt tightened in a desperate attempt to pull him closer. You almost wanted to push him away for his own sake, but the hand that gripped your waist and pulled you flush against him erased that thought entirely. As soft and cautious as it started, the years of both of you wanting exactly this came rushing forth and pushed you both into desperation for one another. The kiss got deeper, fingers pressed harder and wandered further, any care for breathing went out the window. You were the first to pull away, dizzy and overwhelmed.

“There’s no shot in hell I’ll ever regret that,” Seth breathed, smile creeping across his lips as he looked at your breathless state. The butterflies in your stomach hit full force when his thumb brushed across your kiss bruised lips. 

“You just… would it be weird to admit I’ve wanted to do that for a while?” You laughed. He laughed with you, taking your hand in his. 

“So have I. You’re extra stuck with me now because I definitely want to do that a lot more.” He pressed his lips softly to your palm, right above your wrist. “And your issues aren’t gonna scare me away. We’re in this together whether you like it or not. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Tears welled in your eyes once again. The small gesture made your heart flutter, even more so when he kissed your wrist again, holding it longer this time. 

“It’s bad, Seth. It’s really bad and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Then I’ll make it my first official duty as your boyfriend to at least distract you from it, maybe with more kissing.” You laughed at that, pawing the tears from your eyes. He wiped at hem as well, catching the stray ones that you missed. You pulled him closer to you, hugging him as tight as your arms would allow. 

“You guys good out here?” Colby’s voice carried over from the front of the house. He and Sam were lugging bags of equipment, finally ready to leave the location. Seth turned towards them with his arms still firmly around you.

“Yea we’re chilin’. We fuckin’ kissed, bro!” He shouted. You laughed and buried your face in his chest, smacking him lightly.

“Fucking finally! Ready to head out then?”

“Totally, we’ll be right there!”

Two fingers pushed your chin up so your eyes met his. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and another quick one on your lips. You wanted it to continue but you knew you had a long drive ahead of you, so you took his hand and walked with him to the car.

“Before we head out, do you want to talk about the self-harm because I’m still worried,” Sam asked. He leaned against the driver’s side door, keys dangling from his hand. Seth spoke before you could figure out what to say.

“I think they’ll be okay. We’re gonna work on it together, right?”

“Yea… yea we are. Together.”

#Seth Borden x reader #tw suicide #suicide tw #tw self-harm #self harm tw #sam and Colby x reader #this was kinda self indulgent not even gonna lie #Seth Borden

[runawaydr3amerao3]

Fic Rec: 'An Anchor' by @themegalosaurus (SPN, Dean/Sam, Explicit)

I had a sudden urge to read fics based on episode 12x09 First Blood (the one with the solitary confinement) because there is so much angst fruit to be plucked from that whump tree. I didn't find a whole lot (devvo), but there were some. This is the first one I read. It doesn't refer to the ep too specifically, but holy shit it's a good fic. Highly recommend.

TW for self-harm. Please read the tags. Don't forget to show your love to the author with a comment. 💖

#supernatural #sam and dean #spn #fanfic #samdean #sam winchester #dean winchester #wincest #fic rec #supernatural 12x09 first blood #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #deansam #dean and sam #read the AO3 tags #tw self harm #other peoples fic #my recs

[iheardyourprayer]

And I am still learning that I can be the hope

Burn Victims by The Color Morale

For Sam Week Day Five (April 30th): Favourite Sam Relationships

#sam edit #jack kline #ems creation tag #sam winchester #samweek2023 #tw self harm #sam n jack

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 6 - 27

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: themes of self-harm, harm reduction, imperfect recovery, PTSD, tattooing, piercings, themes on nonconsensual tattoos and branding, angst

~

“Come into town with me,” Sam said, looking right at Isaac over the breakfast table.

Isaac’s hand tightened in a fist around his cereal spoon. “Um…” He glanced at Gavin, who sat next to him. Gray had already eaten breakfast hours ago and was out on a walk.

Isaac’s scars stung. He was going to… not use his knife, he wasn’t going to do that after breakfast, he told himself he wasn’t. But his skin itched and he needed to do something. He had been planning on holding an ice cube after breakfast until it disappeared into water, dripping off his fingers.

He cleared his throat and tried again. “What’s in town?”

A faint flush warmed Sam’s cheeks, and a smile tugged at their lips. “Zachariah did some asking around, and it turns out one of the guys who lives in town used to be a tattoo artist, back down south. Zachariah is going in today to, uh… get his tattoo covered up.”

“Oh,” Isaac said softly. He chewed his lip and kept his gaze from flicking to Gavin with sheer will alone. “His…” He motioned at his own shoulder with the spoon in his hand.

Sam nodded solemnly. “His Stormbeck crest, yeah.”

Isaac’s brow furrowed. “How would they cover that up? It’s… huge. And dark black.”

“I don’t know,” Sam said with a shrug. “But apparently the guy said he could do it. And I wanted to go, to support Zachariah. I figured you might come with me.” Their gaze shifted to Gavin’s. “Both of you?”

“That sounds nice, Isaac,” Gavin said gently, sliding his hand into Isaac’s free one. “But if you, um… need a break after last night—”

“No,” Isaac snapped. The embarrassment of Vera’s gaze and words hadn’t faded, but he was fucking sick of being the one having to be babied. Not after what Gavin had been through. Not after what Gavin had survived – after what he nearly hadn’t survived. Isaac wasn’t going to be the reason Gavin stayed inside, away from the sun and air and grass, because he was fucking embarrassed.

He shuddered and carefully put his spoon down. When he looked up at Gavin and Sam in turn, they were looking up at him in concern – or perhaps something deeper than concern. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he ground his teeth against the shame that prickled where their gazes touched him. His throat worked and he made his shoulders relax.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I hate being this on edge.”

“We know,” Sam responded without hesitation – but without judgement, too.

Isaac offered them a tentative smile. He squeezed Gavin’s fingers and glanced between him and Sam. “I appreciate you being concerned. Both of you. But… I’ll be okay. I think it would be better, actually, if… if you both believe I’ll be okay. And…” He returned his gaze to Gavin’s, and his smile grew warmer. “And we should get you outside as much as possible. Get some color in those cheeks before winter comes.”

Gavin laughed and drew his hand through his short-cropped hair. “Vera did say I look so white now I may as well be a ghost.”

“Damn, Vera,” Isaac muttered.

“She meant it as a joke,” Gavin said, still smiling. “I wasn’t hurt by it.”

“I know,” Isaac replied. But maybe she could wait until I stop seeing you dead in my nightmares before she starts joking about it? He pulled Gavin’s thin hand to his lips and kissed the bony knuckles.

“So… yes?” Sam said, giving them both a thumbs up. “Tattoo guy? Zachariah? Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” Isaac said with a nod. “Gavin?”

“You know I’m always interested in going into town,” Gavin said with a grin, and in that moment, Isaac’s heart swelled to bursting. There was Gavin, his old self – perhaps not his old self, but his true self, the way Isaac had seen him in the few months they had had together before Gavin had been taken – radiant and mischievous and sweet. In that wide, contented grin, the pain and fear had fallen away from Gavin’s face, the circles under his eyes faded, and the scars stretched until they were pale again. Isaac’s throat tightened and he drank in the sight of the thing he hadn’t truly believed he would ever see again: Gavin safe, home, and happy.

The intensity of Isaac’s attention made Gavin blush. “What?” he said, his smile growing wider.

“Just… looking at you,” Isaac murmured. His own face flushed and he looked away. “Sorry.” He glanced at Sam. They stared at him, grinning too. “What?”

“Nothing,” Sam said with a chuckle. “It’s really nice to see you two back together, is all.”

Isaac flushed deeper and snatched his spoon up off the table. “Yeah,” he said, and scooped up a bite of cereal. “Let’s finish up breakfast so we can head into town.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam said. “I can’t wait to see what Zachariah is gonna get.”

∴

Isaac didn’t know what he found more intriguing: the man’s tattoos, or his piercings. Isaac had seen all kinds of piercings before on the team’s missions – rings all over the ears, in nostrils, in lips, in eyebrows, in nipples – but he had never seen, or at least noticed, anyone who had pieces of metal seemingly embedded in their skin like the tattoo artist did. And he had them all over his face – on his dimples, cheekbones, and above his eyebrows. Isaac couldn’t stop staring.

The man seemed to notice. He gave Isaac a long glance, which had him shifting his gaze down sheepishly. When the man turned his attention to Zachariah, Isaac used the distraction to look at his tattoos.

They covered his skin – or at least, his left forearm and hand, with some stretching up his neck to wind across his jaws as well. His right forearm was almost completely bare, and the half-rolled sleeves of his shirt and pants obscured the rest of him from view. But across his left arm twisted the impossibly complicated shapes of skulls, birds, and geometric shapes, all in a gritty swirl of black and gray and red. The designs shifted with his muscles as slid his hands into his pockets. He stood only a little taller than Sam, and was even more slight in stature.

The shop itself was actually just a glorified shed attached to the feed store, but it looked like it had been completely made over to accommodate an array of tattoo supplies – plus a chair in the center of the large shed that looked like it could be unfolded to be like a bed. A few stools lined the walls as well.

“So,” the man said with a thin shrug. His dark, baggy clothes seemed to hang off him. “You said shoulder, right?”

“Um… that’s, that’s right,” Zachariah said softly. He rolled up his short sleeve and stared at the floor as he revealed his Stormbeck tattoo. Sam reached out and put a hand on his arm.

Isaac’s throat tightened. It’s bigger than I remember.

Still, the man nodded, seemingly unbothered, his eyes moving over the tattoo. He tilted his head. “Any ideas for what you wanted instead?”

“Oh… no,” Zachariah mumbled. “Just whatever works. I know it’s… it’s bad.”

The man snorted. “Definitely not the worst I’ve seen. You ever try to cover one of these up on the face?”

Gavin gasped. “Who the fuck tattoos on the face?” he breathed.

“The Torrs,” the man said with a dry chuckle. “When they’re feeling particularly shitty. A bull in the most god-awful blocky style, right here on the cheek.” He motioned to his own cheek, bare except for a dot of metal. “Or on the neck. Still, I think I’d prefer that over the Stormbecks.”

Gavin went rigid beside Isaac. Isaac could hear his throat click as he swallowed, watched his lips tremble as he opened his mouth and asked, “Why… would you prefer a face tattoo over the Stormbecks?”

With an easy shrug, the tattoo artist pulled up the sleeve on his right arm and exposed the brand over his bicep: the head of a raven, surrounded by vines. By the look of the scar, it was a decade old at least.

“R-right,” Gavin whispered. “Stormbecks brand.”

“Hurts like a bitch, too,” the man said with a chuckle.

“So you were owned by my— by Benjamin Stormbeck?” Gavin croaked. His eyes swam with tears.

“Yup,” the man said. When he didn’t continue, Isaac’s gaze shifted from Gavin and pinned the artist where he stood.

“You know who he is.” Isaac’s mouth was dry. His hand inched toward his gun.

“I suspected,” the man said gently. He shrugged again. “No hard feelings, though. I mean. I heard some of the story, so I know that’s not even your real name anymore. And I heard you were in town. So it wasn’t hard to guess. But like I said. No hard feelings. You think I haven’t done shit? I wasn’t branded for no fuckin’ reason. It was because I got caught selling Stormbeck playthings to a higher bidder. So.”

Gavin went pale. “You sold—”

Isaac fell back a step, pulling Gavin and Sam with him. “Let’s—”

The man raised his hands. “Holy shit, here’s a good first impression. I did it so I could feed my little sister and her kid. And I didn’t exactly enjoy it. And once I escaped, I didn’t start again. Fuck, I…” He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to Zachariah. “Well, I might have entirely fucked this up. Sorry. But I would like to help you out, still.”

Zachariah stood frozen, his eyes darting between the man and Sam. “I… um…”

“Start over, maybe? My name’s Brandon.” Brandon held out a hand and shook Zachariah’s. “Good to meet you, man.”

Zachariah’s hand swallowed Brandon’s, but his was shaking. He squeezed Brandon’s hand in a quick handshake. “You too, Brandon,” he said, shuffling his feet.

“And you guys, too,” Brandon said, his relaxed demeanor slightly giving way. He held out his hand for Gavin to shake.

“Gavin Uriah,” Gavin said, his eyes still downcast.

“Yup,” Brandon said with a nod. He held out his hand to Sam.

“Sam,” they said, their mouth turning down at the corners. They kept their arms folded awkwardly across their chest.

“Sweet.” Brandon didn’t skip a beat. He reached out to shake Isaac’s hand.

“Isaac Moore,” Isaac said flatly. He only barely held himself back from grinding Brandon’s knuckles together in his grip. Instead, he released his hand quickly, so he would be able to reach for his gun if it turned out he needed it.

“Okay, cool,” Brandon said, rubbing his hands together and glancing at the four of them. “It really is my bad for bringing up the plaything… thing. Not exactly something I’m proud of and it’s honestly not something I bring up a lot. If you don’t feel good about moving forward, totally cool. But…” He peered at Zachariah’s tattoo again, taking a step to the side as if to look at it from a different angle. “I think this is totally doable, depending on what you go with.”

Anger and distrust churned in Isaac’s gut. The door called to him, but more than that; this entire town felt absolutely crawling with people he couldn’t – or shouldn’t – trust. Just being in the same room with someone who had sold stolen playthings made him sick to his stomach, and to know that this same man had also brought up the Stormbecks knowing who it was that stood in front of him…

After everything Gavin has been through, after having that history carved into his fucking arm…

“What do you think, Zachariah? It’s up to you,” came Sam’s voice, winding through his distrust – and below the distrust, as there always was, was fear.

Zachariah wrung his hands and looked to each of them in turn. “Um… I would… really like to have it covered,” he said weakly.

“Then let’s stay and have it covered,” Sam said with a nod. They glanced at Isaac, and he felt their gaze like an admonishment.

He forced himself to nod back, forced his shoulders to relax.

“Okay,” Brandon said with a gusty exhale. “Sounds good. Um. I do a lot of my designs freehand as long as they’re simple, but I have the stuff to do a stencil too. So. If you don’t have any ideas, um…” He pulled up a stool and sat down. Everyone else remained standing. Brandon didn’t seem to notice. “What kind of things do you do? What do you enjoy?”

“Um…” Zachariah spread his hands. “I don’t… really know. I uh… I played soccer with my siblings, but that was more for them.”

“Hm. Okay. What else?”

Zachariah glanced at Sam and blushed a furious red. “I like… Sam,” he said, almost too quietly to be heard.

“No go. I don’t do couple’s tattoos.” Brandon waved the idea away. “Used to be bad luck in case you broke up. Now I don’t do it in case one of you dies.”

Isaac let out a sound like he’d been punched.

“Way less likely up here, but a superstition is a superstition,” Brandon said with a shrug. “Let’s think of something else.”

“Um…” Zachariah twisted his hands together. “Finn and Ellis have… a cat that’s really friendly, and I like him…?”

“Mm, could be promising,” Brandon said. “What are the main colors?”

“Oh, he’s all black,” Sam said with a grin.

Brandon leapt up from the stool. “Bingo,” he said, and went to his table of supplies. He paused and glanced back at Zachariah and lifted his eyebrows. “Does that work? Black cat tattoo?”

“You… can really make this work?” Zachariah murmured, glancing to the others hopefully and back to Brandon.

“Sure thing,” Brandon said. He pulled on some gloves and began preparing the tattoo gun. “Only thing to settle is payment.”

Isaac’s stomach dropped. “We don’t have any—”

“Yeah, I know, nobody does,” Brandon said with a good-natured wave of his hand. “But I have a small tree that’s been about to fall over in my yard for a few months. I don’t have a car to pull it over and I don’t have the strength or… frankly, the fuckin’ time to chop it into firewood when it does go. Help me pull it over, then give me like four hours of chopping? Whatever amount of wood that makes?”

“Th-that’s it?” Zachariah said softly. “That’s… all you want?”

“Yeah, dude,” Brandon said with a snort. “Believe me, it’s worth it to me.”

“I can start tomorrow,” Zachariah breathed.

“You’ll start once this is healed,” Brandon laughed. “You don’t want a tattoo this big getting infected. Especially not up here where I don’t have a lot of the stuff I would need to treat it.”

“Thank…” Zachariah swallowed hard and sank into the tattoo chair. “Thank you.”

Brandon turned around and rolled his tray of supplies closer to the tray. “Oh yup, just make yourself comfortable. I already wiped the chair down before you got here.” He gestured to the stools along the wall. “The rest of you want to have a seat?”

“Thanks,” Sam said, and gave Zachariah a reassuring squeeze on his arm. They and Gavin each went to a stool and sat down.

“I’ll stand,” Isaac said coldly.

Brandon shrugged. “Suit yourself. Sit down if you feel woozy.” He poured disinfectant over a cloth and smoothed it over Zachariah’s exposed shoulder. “Did the old tattoo heal okay?”

“Um, yeah,” Zachariah mumbled. “Just a little itching. The Storm— um. They gave me a good tattoo cream for the healing process.”

“At least there’s that,” Brandon said with a one-shoulder shrug, peering at the tattoo again. “Let me just…” He uncapped a black marker and drew a few swooping lines across Zachariah’s shoulder. “There. That’ll be the general idea. Like I said, I can add more detail if you want, but…” He stripped off his gloves and passed Zachariah a mirror. “Take a look. Do you—”

“How did you do that?” Zachariah whispered, eyes wide, staring in awe at the mirror in his hand.

Sam jumped up off their stool. “They me see,” they said, grinning. They stared at the drawing on Zachariah’s shoulder. “I… wow. I didn’t… so you’ll fill in that part and that part?” They held out their left hand to point.

“Okay, now I have to see,” Gavin said as he slid off his stool, too. His eyes widened as he looked at Zachariah’s shoulder. “It’ll be…” He wet his lips. “It’ll be like it was never there.”

Isaac ground his teeth and stepped around Zachariah, unable to contain his curiosity. The drawing was simple, but the lines were clear; once they were filled in, the image of Nata curled on Zachariah’s shoulder would fully cover the black Stormbeck crest that marred it now. Peeks of Zachariah’s skin would even show through to show the cat’s eyes, nose, and whiskers, and his tail curled around Zachariah’s bicep.

“I love it,” Zachariah rasped. “Seriously, I… I love it. Let’s do it.”

Brandon clapped his hands together. “Awesome. Let’s do it.” He pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and switched on the tattoo gun, dipping the tip of it into the small pot of jet-black ink beside him. “We’ll take this at your pace, okay? Shouldn’t take too too long, but if you need me to slow down or if you need to just tap out, no problem. We can always go again another time.”

Isaac’s eyebrows pulled together. Tap out?

Zachariah nodded vigorously and pushed out a slow breath. Sam pulled their stool forward and reached out, taking his other hand. Isaac watched in confusion. They’re acting like he’s about to give birth, what—

The needle touched Zachariah’s skin and he let out a hiss.

Isaac fell a step forward, his eyes fixed on the needle in Brandon’s hand. “Does that hurt?” he said, before he could stop himself.

“It’s…” Zachariah’s eyes went wide and he stared up at Isaac. “N-no,” he stammered. “No. It doesn’t. I… it’s not that bad, I promise it’s—”

“But it hurts,” Isaac said weakly. “Right? Like, does it always hurt?” He could feel Sam’s gaze on his face, but he ignored it.

Brandon wiped his mouth on his shoulder. “Depends on the person, and on the body part getting tattooed. And on what’s being done. But yeah, tattooing hurts, man. It’s needles going into your skin at like 10,000 times a second.” He chuckled and glanced up at Isaac. He immediately sobered when he saw the expression on Isaac’s face.

“Do you…” Isaac swallowed dryly. “Do you tattoo over scars?”

“Hell yeah, man,” Brandon said, and turned back to his work. “I work in the North. If I didn’t work with scars, I wouldn’t have a job.”

“I mean… do you…” Isaac’s hand shook as he fumbled for his sleeve. He wordlessly pulled his sleeve up to reveal the scars at his wrist and forearm.

Brandon paused his tattooing and looked at Isaac’s arm. He looked for a long time, so long that Isaac flushed with embarrassment and yanked his sleeve back down. Then, Brandon drew in a deep breath and said, “Of course I do work over those kinds of scars, man. But I can’t tattoo over broken skin. You’re gonna have to stop doing that if you want any work done by me.” Without another word, he turned back to Zachariah. He switched on the machine again and deftly moved it over Zachariah’s skin, wiping, tattooing, wiping, tattooing.

Isaac fell a step back and sank onto the stool next to Gavin. His scars prickled where the air had touched them. Still, as he watched Brandon work, he imagined how it might feel to have a needle slide into his skin 10,000 times per minute leaving ink in its wake, making designs instead of scars. He shivered as Gavin slid his fingertips against his palm and laced their fingers together.

“You doing okay?” Sam said gently.

“Yeah,” Zachariah said with a tight smile. “Really, it’s not bad at all.”

“Damn,” Brandon murmured, as if to himself. “This is gonna be a really cool piece.”

@womping-grounds ​, @free-2bmee ​, @quirkykayleetam ​, @walkingchemicalfire ​, @inpainandsuffering ​, @redwingedwhump ​, @burtlederp ​, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog ​ , @whatwhumpcomments ​, @whumpywhumper ​, @stxck-fxck ​, @whumps-the-word ​, @justplainwhump ​, @finder-of-rings ​, @inky-whump ​, @orchidscript ​, @inkyinsanity ​, @this-mightaswell-happen ​, @newandfiguringitout ​, @whumpkitty ​, @pretty-face-breaker ​, @pebbledriscoll ​, @im-just-here-for-the-whump ​, @endless-whump ​, @grizzlie70 ​, @oops-its-whump ​, @kixngiggles​, @1phoenixfeather ​ , @butwhatifyouwrite ​, @carnagecardinal , @whumpifi , @squishablesunbeam

#honor bound 6 #hurt/comfort #whump #angst #self-harm #harm reduction #Isaac/Gavin #Sam/Zachariah #imperfect recovery #PTSD #branding

[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

Captive bloodmoon started to chew on their wrist as a way to satiate their blood need a bit. The taste of oil doesn’t do nearly as much for them as blood does, but it makes the pain go from a stabbing pain to a dull pain. At first the younger one protested doing this but eventually agreed with his brother that it was the best way to satiate their hunger given their position.

#sams au #trapped forever au #tw self harm #captive bloodmoon au

[o-i-w-u]

CW: eyestrain, self harm (not shown)

#aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh why was this so fun to draw #eyestrain is so fun #art #cw eyestrain #eyestrain #tw self harm #tw sh implied #prince of thorns #sams #tsams #sams eclipse #tsams eclipse #lord kc au #the sun and moon show

[ikamigami]

I have my own reasons called personal experiences to not believe Sun that he's mental state was great till Eclipse's return..

I call bullshit when I see it lol

Sun is just like me fr fr nah he's better actually

Also I want for Sun's suicide plot to happen because it would be so cathartic to me

Ofc I'm not saying that I want Sun to succeed, no..

The best scenario would be Sun trying to kill himself or harming himself badly and someone sees that and stops him from doing more damage to himself or from killing himself

Or scenario where someone finds out about Sun being suicidal while talking to him is also a good one

But if showrunners go for Sun attempting suicide - like I said in this post - I'm all for it.. Sun doesn't have to even die, he can end up being in a coma or just being severely damaged or have a near death experience

But I want for this plot to happen.. I need this to happen..

If you don't understand what I'm saying then.. that's great ✨ I mean it.. Go, be yourself and enjoy your life <3

#sun and moon show #sams #sams sun #sun and moon show sun #fnaf sb #fnaf sun #tw suicide #tw self harm #tw suicide attempt #tw character death #tw personal

[hamsamwich23]

Shattered Glass (Unreality Au)

Content warnings: blood, implied physically harming another person, semi-graphic death scene, verbal and emotional abuse and manipulation, subtly implied self harm.

Word count: 1,188

[This one shot was based off of a Goretober/Angstober prompt: Shattered Glass]

Scout's Brother never liked her....

He was very avoidant and dismissive around her. He would get annoyed easily and snap at her for anything he found to be annoying or bothersome. He was angry, all the time, worse than Riley's anger when she had a bad day. he would call her names and belittle her whenever he saw her. Whenever she did anything.

It was clear to Scout that her brother did not like her and wanted nothing to do with her. So she would simply avoid him. Deciding that if he wanted to talk to her, he would come to her himself.

And one day it happened.

her brother came up to her one day while she was watching the old TV that Riley had allowed her to keep after she found it. He had a calm smile on his face. He never smiled around her. It was almost...unnerving to witness.

He told Scout that he wanted to surprise Riley. Today was her birthday, and he wanted to make it special. Which confused Scout. Her brother hated Riley. He couldn't care less about anyone's birthday either. Her ninth birthday was just last month and he didn't want anything to do with her. So why did he change all of a sudden?

Regardless of how odd it was, she decided to help. Even if she was hesitant, he never asked for help, so she wasn't going to just turn him away.

Her brother told her that he was planning a small party for her, and she needed to be completely distracted so she wouldn't find out.

"that's why I need you" He said. "She cares about you way more than she really should"

That was always his argument

"She cares about both of us, she's just overprotective of me.."

"Whatever you say, number one"

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Don't worry about it, this isn't about you anyways."

"...okay...what do you want me to do? How do I distract her?"

"Don't worry, I know what will cause a big enough disturbance that will take up all of her attention. I'm going to help you by setting the bait"

He smiled, holding his hand out"

"just give me your hand..."

........

"Are you SURE that's what happened?"

Riley hadn't been doing anything too important. She was sitting at her private desk reading some sort of newspaper, catching up on the outside worlds scientific discoveries, when her daughter came in. She was sniffling, holding onto her arm. Blood was dripping down onto her shirt and onto the floor. there was a long and decent sized cut going over her elbow.

Riley immediately rushed her to the medical section of her lab and sat her down. She then began to clean, stich and bandage the wound.

"Y....yes... yeah. I was running, but I wasn't paying attention... and then I tripped and fell on some glass and it got stuck in my arm, I pulled it out but it left a scar.."

"Uh huh, Okay."

She finished bandaging the injury, but she didn't move from her spot.

"I know you're lying to me"

Of course she did. But Scout wasn't supposed to let her find that out. "I'm not..it was just an accident-"

"Scout, there's no way this was an accident. The cut is a perfect straight line, there was no stuffing removed or anything, it looks like someone cut you"

Scout went silent. Riley sighed and gently held her daughters hands.

"What happened?"

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

As it turned out, Scouts brother lied about everything.

Riley's birthday was back in October, she and her siblings all had the same birthday. October thirty first, and it was currently the sixth of January.

Riley was absolutely LIVID. And rightfully so. Her son just slashed her daughters arm, just to use her as a distraction. And she needed to find him, now.

She took Scout with her as she began searching for her son. Why did he dare to hurt Scout to distract her? Why was he trying to distract her in the first place?

A loud crack caught her attention. She rushed towards what sounded like the source of the noise...and there he was. Slamming a chair into the window.

"Axe"

"Mom" Axe hissed, taking another swing at the already cracking window. Scout flinched and covered her ears upon hearing the awful sound of glass breaking. The warehouse windows were rather strong, but they weren't invincible... if broke, they would lead to outside...

Was he trying to escape?

Riley had a rule in place when it came to outside. Neither of the two were allowed to go out. Not until they were thirteen, then she would go with them. her brother was four months away from being able to go outside. Why was he trying to escape like this? Was there another reason? Was it Riley? Was it the warehouse conditions? Was it...her?

Scout didn't attempt to question him and his reasoning. Riley and her brother were now fighting. yelling. shouting over one another. Riley yelling at her son for hurting his sister and Axe yelling at both Riley and Scout.

They kept shouting, as Riley tried to take the folded metal chair away from him...but when she got close Axe raised the chair above his own head...and slammed it down on hers.

Riley fell to the ground and stopped moving. Trembling, Scout knelt down beside her, leaning her head against her chest. Her heart was still beating, and she was still breathing...but she was unconscious and her head was bleeding. But she was still alive.

She glared up at her brother. "You almost KILLED HER!" she snarled, her ears standing up on end.

Her brother raised the chair again, ready to swing once more. He returned the glare. His eyes were cold and full of hate.

"You should have stayed dead"

He swung the chair, and the window finally broke. Shattered glass was thrown everywhere. Scout covered her face with her hands as glass hit, scratching into her palms.

When it was safe, she ran over to the window and looked out of the damaged remains. Watching as her brother ran through the snow. Watching as he ran...and ran...

She watched as he ran right into death itself. And she watched in horror, as death tore her brother to shreds

she watched it devour him while he was still alive.

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

"So...that's what happened to your brother, then?"

"Yeah..its a messy story, I know. But that's how I remember it..I watched something horrifying tear him apart...it came out of nowhere and fucking ate him. I told Riley everything that happened after she recovered. She says its not my fault, but I just....I don't know."

"I'm sorry to hear that. He was not a good brother to you, but you still seemed to care a lot about him"

"yeah..I used to. But he was an asshole..He's dead anyways."

Scout sighed, running her hands over her bandaged arms.

"it's not like anything he said stuck to me that badly anyways."

[thank you for reading!! My work is also on SquidgeWorld (Crying_God_tm) and Wattpad (judgment23)]

#hello puppets #unreality au #sams writing #morts writing #tw self harm #tw implied sh #tw implied self harm #hello puppets scout #hello puppets au

[the-gray-ghosty]

Tattoos that i think Sam should've had in Spn;

A rose on his lower back that covers the knife scar from Cold Oak

Lillies and Carnations on his right shoulder for Mary and Jess (their favorite flowers)

The letters "D E A N" across his left hand's knuckles (and a small pentagram on his thumb's knuckle instead of a letter)

"Bitch" on the inner wrist of his right hand (Dean has "jerk" on his)

New (powerful) angel and demon warding sigils on his ribs; in Enochian and Latin (nothing is ever possessing him again)

A small dragon sitting on a stack of books on his left forearm to remember Kevin and Charlie

A semicolon on his left wrist and feathers on his right wrist that cover up scars

#hbo spn #sam winchester #tattooos #sam winchester deserves tattoos #spn #supernatural #hc #au #mentions of self harm #tw mentions of self harm #tw brif mentions of suicide attempt #semi colin tattoo #mine

[saltbind]

happy ww will!!!

so as seen in the first episode with the ghostfacers, what the show shows us isn't necessarily entirely in line with the full "roughness" of how sam and dean are (referring to the swearing scene), what headcanons do you have for other "unacceptable" things sam and dean do that the show didn't "let us see"?

oh man. well first of all they are way, way weirder with their closeness that we see even prior to actual fucking. of course they are. sam’s wandering in to brush his teeth while deans jerking off in the shower and it’s normal. dean’s fucking someone in the backseat while sam reads on the hood. that kind of thing.

constant swearing. no crap or friggin’ here dean swears like someone raised in truck stops and shittu motels. sam is more of a precision f strike kind of guy, except during sex where he slips back into his natural dialect (that he learned from dean).

sam and dean both smoked when they were younger. dean still does, sam only smokes when stressed. they both use pot occasionally when they can get it and they have the spare cash and they like to shotgun because it’s not technically kissing.

sam did poppers, ecstasy and coke during college. he didn’t really like the coke on account of how intensely paranoid it made him.

dean has sampled pretty much everything but he largely doesn’t use after he gets back from hell because they don’t affect him much anymore on account of that Big Empty in him.

sam almost definitely self harmed either preseries or during canon and his sex is way kinkier than shown on screen. even in cw spn he was drinking blood while he fucked a demon. that man’s a freak and i love it.

the both of them occasionally (post-we-fucked-for-the-first-time and pre-talking-about-our-feelings) initiated no kissing no talking no eye contact no strings incestuous sex with each other. ala @applecrumbledore’s incredible Yesterday, Minnesota.

post-getting-together-for-reals it’s just all incest all the time with occasional party guests.

#sam winchester #dean winchester #samdean #drugs #self harm