#my inner child is angry as fuck

[atimodeus]

Alright, ya gremlins: it's finally here.

After writing and rewriting this essay five or six times over the last month and a half, I've finally settled on a version I think I like — meaning I think I've finally figured out how to articulate what's been on my mind.

Katsuki Bakugou holds a very specific place in my heart. I reckon writing this long ass essay in earnest may be considered pretty "cringe" by some standards, but honestly, I found it very cathartic. Maybe I need to touch grass. Or maybe, fiction can sometimes just be another tool we use to understand ourselves.

Which is to say: looking at angry kids like Katsuki feels a lot like looking at myself.

[spookietrex]

A dysregulated adult cannot regulate a dysregulated child, but a regulated adult can regulate a dysregulated child.

Start by centering yourself.

[bittersweetsoxxx]

Trigger warning ⚠️ vent post ⚠️

/ child abuse // SA /

You beat every emotion out of this child, until she was an empty shell.

Don’t cry. Don’t laugh too loudly. Don’t get angry. Don’t get sad. Be quiet. Be still. Be seen not heard.

There is no space for her here.

Tell me what she did to deserve that because I will never understand.

“How did you survive?” My therapist asks me softly. “Where did you go in your mind to be safe when he was in one of his rages? Where did you go when they assaulted you?”

I pause before I answer her. “I didn’t go anywhere. I didn’t know there were better places I could be.”

“So you remember all of it?” She tried to contain her reaction. I sighed.

“Of course I remember all of it. It was what I was thought love was.”

The darkest parts of you, the ones you were afraid to look at were the first that I learned to love about myself. You see, I love my anger because she tells me when I have been wronged. When something is so wrong it requires anger.

My anger is how I learned I did not deserve the violence you force fed down my throat.

My fear taught me to be cautious. To recognize patterns. To look for the darkness in others and see how they dealt with it.

My insecurities showed me the pieces of myself that needed the most love. That needed to be held. And kisses. And worshipped. And cherished.

You let your monsters control you, I made mine my friends. You told me kindness was weakness. That I was too soft. Too fragile. That this world would chew me up and spit me out and I would never survive.

But here I am.

Showing myself kindness.

Loving the parts you said I shouldn’t.

Loving others.

Giving kindness to the people who are angry.

Who are cruel.

Who remind me so much of you.

I show them kindness.

And compassion.

And I watch them soften.

Because for some, kindness is enough

And others, it is not.

Like with you.

I cannot love you out of your darkness.

I cannot save you.

But I saved someone.

And now they’ve lived long enough to find better places.

[upgradebitch]

muddy thoughts

[venting-town]

You know your abandonment issues are bad when you talk to your mom but she doesn’t say anything back so you IMMEDIATELY start feeling like she’s mad at you so she might stop liking you again

[philosophicallie]

parentals came in with mail and even their faces just piss me off now

[talkfastcal]

Something

[autism-connoisseur]

ive been watching the winchesters and my thoughts so far is that i like literally anyone else more than i like mary and john <3

[cal-flakes]

╰┈➤ mean!rafe shouts at you

warnings: rafe being mean (still hot tho fr), swearing. again, my shitty writing cause it’s been a while.

summary: rafe comes home with bloodied knuckles, still super angry from a fight he got himself in, yells at you when you ask about it.

you giggle to yourself as your eyes follow the childish cartoon cat on the television. this pretty much sums up your night, sitting on the couch enjoying the shows that bring out your inner child. your boyfriend, rafe, had gone out a couple hours earlier saying very little about where he was going, apart from he needed to sort out some business, whatever that meant.

rafe cameron point blank refused to let his angel know anything about what he actually does, claiming he didn’t want to fill her pretty little head with worrisome thoughts.

within the first hour of his absence, you had managed to change positions about fourteen times, due to not being able to get comfortable. eventually settling for laying across the couch, your legs sprawled over the opposite arm rest.

just as you fell into a deep concentration a frighteningly loud clatter erupted from the porch, provoking a squeal from your lips. turning your head curiously, a dishevelled looking rafe stood with his back resting against the door, chest heaving.

“rafe? are you okay?” standing up, you made your way over to your boyfriend, worried he might be hurt.

justifying your anxious look, your eyes met his hands as they fell by his sides. dried blood and dark purple splotches patterned his knuckles. your eyes widen and turn to rafe’s face, where he avoids your gaze, knowing he’s done exactly what he said he wouldn’t. make you worry.

“hey baby, go sit back down, i’ll be through in a minute.” he orders softly, motioning with his hands for you to return to your spot on the couch. before you can say a word he rushes to the kitchen, depositing his jacket over the back of the unused armchair adjacent to the television.

unnerved by his ignorant attitude, you hesitantly choose to follow him to the kitchen, determined to make sure he’s okay.

“rafe please, tell me what happened” you spoke apprehensively, well aware that rafe doesn’t like you to ask these things, but sometimes you simply couldn’t help it.

letting out an irritated sigh, he rubs a palm across his face. “i told you to sit down y/n. i’ll be through in a minute” he almost growled through gritted teeth.

moving closer, you carefully reach to grab his hand in an attempt to help. sucking in a harsh breath, he hastily snatches his hand out of your grasp. “did you get in a fight again?” you whispered quietly, cautious of his answer.

“i’ve told you not to ask fucking questions y/n! will you please go and sit your ass down before i fucking make you.” the sheer volume of his voice is enough to leave the hairs on your spine standing. deciding against pushing further, you scurry back through to the living room, trying to hold back tears as you go.

part two <3

[disruptivevoib]

Long Ramble about CCCC and my overall feelings on what the album means and such

Something I find important about CCCC is like.

The fact that all three of them are, in some way, trying.

Heart is emotion, he is prone to himself and being reactionary, in the moment. Prone to the past of learned behavior and trauma. Reactive and rapidly changing. He isn't going to make pure sense because he isn't based in logic or in societal ideals or views. He is an instinctual response to the environment and circumstances. His manipulation is not intentional. He has very little control of himself in the end. Its why Mind talks about claiming to relish entropy yet clearly needing help. But, Heart in earnest wants them to be okay and safe. He believes that Mind's control will drain the life from them. It will make things monotonous and the same. Too much order.

Mind in turn, believes Heart is manipulative with intention. He wants to control Soul or wants to just drag them all down with him into this depressive state. Mind is logic, he is the reasoning out of your emotional instinct. Your inner critique, and when unchecked, that inner critique goes from a guiding hand for your emotion to one that debates and bullies it. Invalidating its responses. Ultimately, though. Mind just believes he is helping. He is doing what must be done and telling the "hard truths" to Heart. And that Heart is being the petty child. Which- I mean. Sort of sure. But Mind is definitely fucking petty and childish. He's stubborn! Prideful! So ofc he is. Admitting you're wrong? No.. why would he EVER do that.. nuh uh.

Which is what makes Light so crucial. Mind asking Heart for help- but also. There is Soul.

Who while ambiguous in purpose, is mostly that background voice. Your inner narration. If Mind is Logic and Reason then Heart is Emotion and Instinct,, Soul is all that lives between it. And he is constantly silenced or spoken over or around. He does not get a word in edgewise until TSE. He may show up in the background occasionally but as much as Heart and Mind claim to want to keep him alive and help him, they also fail to actually acknowledge what he says.

Which is that they both are right and wrong. That this fighting is doing directly what they both feared it would. Soul is desperate by the end. He is angry and resentful because.. well. Self hatred due to intense self awareness and reflection is rather ig. Common. Im not a professional here but from personal experience, you get so tired of rehashing the same shit with yourself over and over. It all feels pointless.

The only out, by the end of it all to Soul is that if they cannot be Whole, whats the point? He is desperate. He does not want to die but he feels theres no other solution.

And. About Whole, Soul throughout the album seems to want that. At the beginning, to be Whole or Harmonious is to be mentally healthy, maybe even "normal" by society's standards. To be able to put a mask over your problems and be, again, "normal". It takes the entire album for Soul to realize that this:

1. isnt possible

And

2. There isn't anything evil or wrong with him for that.

Mental health is a struggle. But you are not evil and should not be othered because you struggle. You also do not need to be fixed for being a little different and people's opinion of you is not what matters most so long as you are happy (and not hurting others. Lol).

Thats what Two Wuv is entirely about as a song. Its a "fuck you. Fuck this! I thought I needed to be this! But I DON'T. Stop telling me who I am! How to be! I'm gonna be me!"

His entire arc is parallel to Heart and Mind's and is crucial in the culmination of becoming yourself again and accepting yourself.

But, as mental health will always be, this period of respite and self acceptance is not always forever. And as life continues or as you lapse back into a depressive episode.. you cannot help but forget what it is like when you're not this way- and hell! Vice versa too! Some people have this disconnect between the periods. Where the things from the depressive state seem dramatic or obtuse to you while you are doing better. And from the other end, you just want to be happy again.. but you get so lost in it all you can struggle to feel like you've ever been happy.

The album is about the human experience. It is about self-sabotage, mental illness, self-hatred and reflection and it is, maybe more importantly about self-acceptance and healing. Having a bit of mercy on yourself. Accepting that you are imperfect and that this is okay. And whatever flaws you may have that need to be mended or worked on, can be. And that who you are, for example, if you are queer, is okay. And no one has the right to take that identity from you! That the internalized ideas of how someone should be are not always correct or right. Not for you, at least. Stuff like that.

[reallyromealone]

Back to you part 2

Angst, omegaverse, male reader

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

(name) just stared at the blond man holding him close, this is what he wanted for years.

Its what he dreamt of.

But more than anything?

He was absolutely filled with a rage he didn't think was possible.

"Shit--" Mikey was pushed away from him as an angry omega glared at him "I lost my baby because of you" (name) spat out, body shaking not from fear but from everything Mikey's actions had put him through emotionally and physically. "(Name) it was for--" "I dont give a FUCK what it was about, all I know is one day my mate is there and the next hes dead! I HELD A FUNERAL FOR ALL OF YOU! I LOST MY BROTHERS! I THOUGHT MY ENTIRE FAMILY HAD DIED!" (Name) screamed as he pushed mikey back, the Alpha letting him do this because... He knew be deserved this.

"You promised Manjiro" (name) had fat tears rolling down his face "I was holding your grandfather's hand as he passed, did you know that? While you were off doing god knows what? Instead of seeing his last living grandchild he saw the broken grandchilds mate who he abandoned" (name)s voice was venemous as he looked at mikey dead in the eyes. "Those closest to my heart faked their deaths and abandoned me" (name) was now laughing and Mikey never felt fear in a long time but for once?

He was terrified.

(Name)s face went serious as he stormed out and into what seemed to be a lounge "(name), its a pleasure to see you again" Ran said calmly, assuming the poor heartbroken omega would run into his alphas arms.

But he was dead wrong.

"Get the fuck away from me before I burn this god forsaken building to the ground" (name) said coldly as they looked to see Mikey looking disheveled but not in a post sex way, in a he got his ass beat way.

"(Name) we can explain" Kakucho tried to appease the half-feral omega who wanted nothing more tham to beat the ever living shit out of them "I dont need one" (name)s tone was cold "You guys wanted to play crime lord without an omega keeping the boss weak" (name) said simply, it was obvious despite his rage "you guys killed his heir by the way also this piss idea made him look like absolute shit"

"Watch --" Sanzu was cut off with a harsh glare "watch what Haruchiyo? Watch the fact my loved ones live their happiest lives as i deal with the loss of literally my entire family? The child I was going to tell my Mate about when he was supposed to get home? Only to find out he died with everyone else and THEN after years find out oh look theyre alive and living the life of luxury" (name) gave a cold cruel laugh "elaborate to me, what should I be watching?"

They remember how (name) was before they left, sweet and always deverted to Mikey no matter what.

This?

This was a stranger.

A changed person.

A person hurt beyond repair.

"I spent my life mourning a fucking lie" (name) said almost methodically.

"I wasted my life mourning a man who clearly didnt love me"

"I did love you" Mikey was forceful as he grabbed his mates shoulders and looked at him with a desperate expression, the face of a man who wasnt ready to lose his mate "dont you love me?"

"I always loved you" (name)s voice was empty "but I also know betrayal, you betrayed me... You all did"

"And didn't you teach me never negotiate with traitors?"

The room halted as mikey looked at him horrified "you cant leave " Mikey said almost begging "what like how you left me? At least im giving you a warning" (name) fired back and tried to escape mikeys hold but the alpha held him tight.

"Please..." He begged and (name) was cold.

"Where was my chance to plead for you to stay? Why do you always get the options?" (Name) snapped as he started struggling to get out of his hold, it seemed after all these years mikey got stronger somehow.

(Name)s inner Omega pleaded with him to accept their alpha but (name) absolutely refused.

What mikey did was beyond exuse.

(Name)s body went limp as he spoke "after this, I dont think I can look at you guys... At least for a very long time..."

The room was filled with so many negative emotions, it was almost suffocating.

(Name) eventually broke free and wandered to the elevator, the guards looking at Mikey for what to do and the alpha rushed to hold (name) "p-please..."

"Keeping me here wont fix things"

"Please let me fix this...please"

[bittersweetsoxxx]

I cannot stop the words from pouring from my lips like water bursting through rusted pipes

I love you

I say it over and over and I worry the words will become meaningless when they fall upon your ears

But I simply

Cannot

Stop them

From spilling.

Time and time again.

Like a desperate child

But maybe.

In a way

That is why.

I was a desperate child.

Who begged,

And pleaded,

And folded myself into the neat

Tiny space

So I would not be in the way

Would not take up space

I would have cut out my own tongue

To silence myself

If it meant that he would love me

Would hold me

Would tuck me into my bed

Kiss my forehead

And tell me goodnight.

I went days without food

I went years without love

Living on scraps and convincing myself that the scraps I got

The abuse, I received

Was not just, enough for me

But was

Love.

That the gnawing hunger in my bones

For more,

Was silly

Was a child’s fantasy

And yet

Here you are

Loving me

In this way I do not understand

You do not silence me

You do not shrink me

You watch me dance

You make me laugh

You reached into that dark cramped place and you pulled me into the light

You breathed life into these tired bones and suddenly the fires of my rage

Changed

Softened

And I realized it was never rage

It was grief

The love that you show me

The patience

The kindness

The encouragement

I am in mourning.

You tell me that I do not burden you when I need your love.

That loving me is not a chore.

It is easy.

It was never a silly child’s fantasy.

[avenging-fandoms]

also, i’ve never seen Mandalorian BUT imagine having a conversation with Pedro when he’s in the suit and getting all blushy and nervous cause,,, its hot

Pedro walked onto set, softly clinking as he came closer. You look up and took a deep breath, locking your phone and looking at him. You lean your elbow on your chair as you look him up and down slowly.

He was in his costume for Vanity Fair and he looked delicious. Something about Pedro in Din's armor just did something to you- and he knew it.

Pedro walked over to you and leaned down, kissing you softly and you were angry that other people were around because you couldn't jump on him with the armor on.

"Am I magazine ready?" He posed and you giggle, cheeks still red as you look at him. His hair was fluffy and he held his helmet at his side as he stood in front of you.

"Perfecto, Pedrito" You smile and grab the helmet, placing it on your head and Pedro laughed. "Am I magazine ready?"

"Absolutely, sweetheart" Pedro took his phone out and you posed for a few pictures, taking it off with a smile. "Now that is my new wallpaper" He mumbled to himself and you fix your hair, looking at the photo which he already put on his lockscreen.

"You are just the cutest thing ever" He sets his helmet on the table and you stand up, doing your best to get close to his body with the armor on as you kiss him.

His gloved hands rub your sides and smiles into your kiss. "I love you, sweetheart. Thank you for being here"

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss the opportunity to see Ewan McGregor in person" You laugh and Pedro pulls away, pushing your shoulder softly. "Did I ever tell you how obsessed with you I am? Especially in this suit" your eyes get heavy and Pedro smirks.

"Hm, maybe once or twice" He winks and you let out a shaky breath. He touches your chin and heads to set, and you watch his every move. Rosario, Diego and Ewan joined him and you covered your mouth as you spotted Ewan.

You watched as they posed and talked, in awe of how proud you were of Pedro. Both his and Ewan’s heads turn towards yours and your stomach dropped. Pedro moved his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion and you stood up, wiping your hands on your pants as you walk onto the set.

“Yn, Ewan McGregor. Ewan, my wife, Yn” Ewan’s eyes met yours and he smiled, taking your hands.

“Oh my god this is not happening right now” you let go of one of his hands and covered your mouth and nose, tears forming in your eyes. “I literally grew up watching you, I fucking love Star Wars, you’re absolutely amazing”

“I fucking love Star Wars too” He replied and you all laugh, Ewan pulling you in for a hug and you look at Pedro with a surprised face, tears falling down your face.

He let you pull away first, and you cover your mouth, turning to Pedro and leaning into him. “Are you alright?”

“My inner child is screaming! I watched ‘Revenge of The Sith’ over and over as a kid” you picked your head up and Pedro wiped your eyes.

You hug Diego and Rosario as well, taking in this opportunity to meet such iconic actors. “Wow, this was fucking amazing” you laugh and so do they, not realizing you were being filmed and photographed.

You head back to your chair and you were given a water and tissues and you laugh thanking the person. You watch your husband as he posed himself, the others coming over to talk to you.

Pedro looked at you with your eyes shining as you talked to the others. His eyes became soft as he took off the helmet, and he winked when his eyes met yours.

[hamletshoeratio]

"But no new content 😭!!" that means jack shit. We have several literal decades worth of content we can watch or rewatch. The writers and now the actors too are not only fighting for their livelihoods but for the futures and the soul of their industries.

Fuck new content, fuck the executives and producers and powers that be who make millions upon millions while the people, who create the content that make them rich, can barely make ends meet.

Here's some suggestions to anyone who doesn't know what to watch;

Nostalgia rewatch; watch old favourites, shows and movies you haven't seen in years but that stayed with you, the ones that mattered to you.

Watch the shows your parents didn't let you watch growing up because they thought the show was "too mature" for you.

Watch the shows and movies people have recommended to you that you never found time for before.

Watch indie films!!!

Look at different genres than what you've watched before and give them a go.

Try films and shows from other countries and/or in other languages. There's dubs and subtitles available and these shows and movies can be just as good if not better than their American and/or English speaking counterpart.

And remember when watching shows, that you do not have to binge them all at once, you can have your own personal tv schedule and watch say an episode a week like you would've done when/if they aired before streaming

Look at some older films and shows, why does it matter if it's in black and white or the camera quality is lower than 4k and hd, so long as it's good? And so many of those shows and films, while not perfect, have aged better than shows that have come out in the last decade, like the golden girls for instance has aged so much better than say glee (ok many many many shows aged better than glee but let's be real for a second, music was better when artists were terrified of the Glee cast doing a better version of their song on the show. I do still wish it was a show my mom didn't let me watch tho, lmao glee was fine but no, her twelve year old being obsessed with Les mis and rewatching it religiously was cause for concern 😂😭 I was just as obsessed with glee for seasons 1-4 especially).

It's ok to indulge your inner child and rewatch the classics tm. The shows and movies you grew up with. Rewatch the shows that got you through sick days from school, the tv movies you remember watching premiere, the cartoons that MADE your Saturday mornings, etc.

On the topic of animation, that's literally an unlimited genre you can tap into, which rarely gets the recognition and respect it deserves.

Don't be afraid to watch the one season wonders, the shows that networks and streamers cancelled after one season in spite of strong reviews and good ratings. Or the shows that ended abruptly around the season 3 or 5 mark because networks and streamers cancelled them because they didn't want to negotiate contracts and have to pay the actors and writers more. Get angry, remember what the actors and writers are fighting for.

The privilege of older shows that either concluded naturally or that writers were given a heads up on might be on it's last season is that you get closure, unlike with the above. That might not mean an ending is good but a bad ending is better than a cliffhanger. There's always fix its fics for a bad ending. And if the ending is good, it's typically GOOD in my experience. The fear of a cliffhanger and zero closure has already turned many against watching new content until the show is renewed for another season or is fully wrapped (and fans don't hate the ending).

Watch the shows that were in their day or are popular or critically acclaimed, they usually hold up to the hype.

Watch the old shows and movies your favs were on/in before they were your favs.

Try a soap or a telenovela, they can be entertaining af (holby city my love, Tuesdays have never been the same since the BBC robbed me of you).

If you liked a reboot or a revival of a show, try the original (in certain cases, the og is even better, see boy meets world v girl meets world).

If you like period dramas, try shows and films from other countries based on their history. A lot of times when people are telling their own history it goes far better than when Hollywood tries it (see the many times Hollywood has actors brought in because producers think they're good for box office and they then go on to butcher the accent their character should have, see Cameron Diaz, Julia Roberts, Meryl Streep and so many others who have absolutely butchered the Irish accent over the years for instance. There's also many many instances even recently of just blatant whitewashing see Matt Damon as the last samurai...).

Listen to recommendations, watch the shows and movies you know your family and friends loved but you never got around to watching.

[sourwolf-sterek32]

The Dirt (Your Version)

Summary: Meeting Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee was a coincidence. Being friends was a choice. But falling in love with them both was beyond your control.

Or

A rewrite of The Dirt with all the highs and lows of Mötley Crüe from your perspective.

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Tommy Lee x Reader, Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Trigger Warning- Suicidal thoughts, self-harm, child abuse, heavy mentions of cancer (you all know what's coming)

Previous Chapter

Chapter 18- A is for Angst

"Y/N..." Vince began to say but seemed to be in too much shock to finish the sentence.

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking, fuck.

Vince was never meant to see the cuts. Not again. Not while his daughter was dying in hospital.

"I-I gotta go. Sorry."

You were on your feet and out the room before Vince could say or do anything.

It was late at night, the only people walking around the floor were a few nurses with clipboards who didn't look twice in your direction. The hospital was quiet which you were grateful of because it didn't take long for the elevator door to open. However, just as you stepped inside and pressed the button for the ground floor, Vince slipped in between the closing doors.

Damnit.

"Show me." He ordered, his voice forcefully stern as he slammed the 'stop' button on the control panel forcing the lift to come to a stop between floors.

There was no getting out of this. It was too late to lie, and it was too late to escape the elevator. And Vince knew it too.

"No." You simply responded folding your arms across your chest defensively. "There's nothing to show."

Vince's expression hardened, his jaw clenched and unclenched as he stared at you with an unreadable look in his eye. For a few tense seconds, neither of you moved or said anything. The silence in the enclosed elevator was deafening. You could practically hear your heart thumping in your chest while your hands trembled a little by your sides in anticipation for what was to come.

Your brother never yelled or got angry when you were kids, but right now, he looked on the verge of snapping.

He didn't need to worry about this. His daughter was in hospital with cancer. He shouldn't have to worry about his little sister too. You didn't want him to worry or know about this in the first place, but now he did.

Suddenly, Vince stepped forward and grabbed your hand before forcefully yanking your sleeve up exposing the cuts on your inner arm. He stared down at your skin taking in the fresh angry red cuts mixed between the still healing scars. Tears were beginning to rise in your eyes, but you forced them back.

Vince let out a frustrated sigh dropping your hand and rubbed his face before his brown eyes met yours. And he did not look happy.

"Why?" He questioned.

You shook your head, "it doesn't matter."

"You're cutting yourself and you don't think it matters?!" Vince shouted, his voice raising an octave as he stared at you in utter disbelief. "At least tell me why?"

"I don't know."

"Bullshit!"

"I don't know!" You shouted back.

"Do you want to fucking die? Is that it?" Vince questioned bluntly, his voice rising along with his anger. "Is your life really that bad? My daughter has fucking cancer! And you're slitting your wrists, for what? Attention? Or are you trying to kill yourself?"

You averted your eyes and stared down at the ground. Vince could always read you like a book, and you did not want him to know how close to the mark those last few words actually were.

"Answer me!" Vince screamed taking a step closer causing you to flinch back on instinct.

Memories of your father's anger and wrath washed over you. Vince wasn't anything like your father. Sure, he had a bit of his bad temper, but Vince would never hurt you, not like your father used to.

"I- shit." Vince swore softly under his breath realising that he had scared you. "I'm not him, Y/N."

You took in a deep breath and met his gaze, "I know."

Vince remained silent for a moment his eyes filled with guilt and worry before he spoke, his tone now calm and levelled. "Please tell me why you're doing this to yourself."

"It helps." You admitted, your voice coming out a mere whisper.

"What?"

"It helps. I-I don't know, it just helps."

"Helps with what?" Vince asked, but he didn't sound angry anymore, he just sounded confused.

How were you meant to explain it to him though? Vince wouldn't understand, and you didn't want him to.

"You swore you'd never do this again." He whispered shaking his head. "You fucking promised!"

"Yeah? Well, you promised that it was me and you against the world, but then you fucking left! You abandoned me just like my mother did!"

Vince's body physically recoiled, his eyes widening, "is that why you did this? Did you cut yourself because I left?"

There was so much guilt and pain in his voice it broke your heart.

"No." You answered quickly but then paused because you couldn't tell him why. You couldn't tell him that the car accident and Razzle's death still haunted you. You couldn't tell him that seeing his daughter dying in hospital was bringing up old feelings about your miscarriage. You couldn't tell him that him leaving Mötley Crüe affected you on the scale that it did. You had no right to complain about those things and feelings especially not to Vince.

"I don't want to wake up one morning to find that you've killed yourself, Y/N." Vince suddenly said, snapping you out of your thoughts like a punch to the face.

"You won't." You insisted, shocked at his words.

It wasn't like you hadn't thought about it. Most days you thought about it, but you were too weak to pull the trigger. You'd never be able to go through with it which was why you silenced those suicidal thoughts with a blade to numb the pain.

"You don't need to worry about that." You answered, pulling the sleeve of your shirt down before meeting your brothers' sad eyes. "It's not about wanting to die. It's more about being able to live."

"I don't understand."

You smiled sadly, "I know. But you don't need to worry about me, okay? I'm fine. You have enough on your plate anyway. Just focus on Skylar, Vin."

You leant over and pressed the button on the control panel causing the elevator to shift before it began to descend back down to the ground floor once again.

Vince didn't say anything after that, but you could feel his eyes watching you like he wanted to say more but seemed unable to.

After a few seconds the elevator came to a stop and dinged before the doors slid open exposing the empty lobby of the waiting room. You hesitated before taking a step towards the door but then a hand grabbed your shoulder.

"I can't lose you too." Vince said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him. His brown eyes were laced with tears which only made the tears you had been fighting back earlier resurface as you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from crying. You wanted to tell him that Skylar wasn't going to die. That she would get better and be out of the hospital soon. But you both knew the chances of her surviving weren't good. Skylar was dying and the doctors might not be able to help her.

Instead of saying anything, you stepped forward and pulled your brother into a hug. Vince's body was stiff in your arms for a moment, but he was soon wrapping his arms around your back and hugging you tightly.

-

After Vince finding out, you didn't dare add to the cuts on your skin in fear of him checking and seeing anything fresh. But you picked at the scabs of the older ones making them bleed and start the healing process again. It defeated the purpose but made it a little easier to breathe.

A week later, you were sitting beside your niece's bed reading one of her favourite princess books trying to distract her from everything that was happening.

"Can you read it again?" Skylar asked once you closed the book.

Her little voice sounded so weak, and you were instantly opening the book back up again, holding it out for her to see the bright colourful pictures.

"Absolutely." You smiled softly at her, hating how pale and frail she looked before you began to read the book from the start once again.

A few minutes later, Sharise walked back into the room after speaking to a doctor and by the look on her face, you knew whatever the doctor had said wasn't good. It never was.

"Skylar, sweetie." Sharise began to say sitting down on the edge of her bed and grabbing her daughter's small hand. "The doctors need to do another operation. It's only going to be small and after that, we can go home. Does that sound good?"

Another operation?

How many more times were they going to cut this little girl open? How much more could a four-year-old endure?

Skylar looked up at her mother and said in the weakest, saddest, most innocent voice you've ever heard; "mummy, I don't want to die."

You had to get up and leave the room right there and then. And once you were out in the corridor, you burst into tears.

Memories of that day in hospital with Nikki and Tommy after your miscarriage flooded over you. The pain and sadness of losing a baby hitting hard and now again at the possibility of losing your niece was killing you.

Skylar knew that what was happening to her wasn't normal. She knew that all the smiles and jokes coming from you adults were forced, that the relatives and friends who visited never used to cry when they saw her.

In four months, she had gone from a happy four-year-old to a sad wired-up dying child.

Then, one day, you were walking into the hospital with a new stuffed animal for Skylar when you were greeted by the doctors. They had that look, the look that said everything and nothing at all. You braced yourself and knew before a word was spoken that this was it.

Before the doctors could confirm your fears, Vince came running into the hospital shouting something about receiving a call from Sharise, but he came to a halt in the waiting room when he saw you standing by the doctors.

Vince was by your side instantly, frantically asking the doctors what was going on and if his daughter was okay. But then the doctors lowered their heads and looked between the two of you sadly.

Vince's eyes filled with water before they even spoke. The tears hung there suspended, covering his eyes like contact lenses, until the doctor said the dreaded words, "she's gone." And then the dam burst, and tears drenched your brothers face.

-

Skylar had passed away in her sleep. The doctors reassured you all that it was painless, but that was a lie. Skylar had been suffering and in pain for months. It was anything but painless.

Vince was a total mess. And after leaving the hospital that day, you stayed with him at his mansion. He was incapable of showering, changing his clothes or doing anything for himself. So, you stepped up.

He slept with the blanket Skylar had died in from the hospital. It was dirty and needed to be washed, but there was no way you would ever wash it. The blanket, although smelt like a hospital, also smelt like his daughter and it was the only thing he had left.

You had no idea how to help Vince. You couldn't even help yourself.

The cuts on your wrists that had finally healed were now fresh and bloodied under the bandage secured over them. Skylar's death hurt more than anything, but you hid your own feelings to be there for your brother.

Sharise's parents organised the funeral and you feared your brother wouldn't be able to get himself cleaned up and sober enough for his daughter's own funeral, but with your help, he did.

The funeral was held at the cemetery and was kept small and lowkey. It wasn't advertised, not wanting to risk paparazzi showing up and snapping photos. So, you had no idea how your father and stepmother found out about the funeral.

The last time you saw them was the day you and Vince had run away from home. You hadn't seen or heard from them since, until now.

Your stepmother looked the same as the day you had left. But your father had aged dramatically since that horrible day. The drugs and alcohol having finally caught up to him.

Vince didn't notice their appearance from where the two of you sat in the front row and to your relief, your parents didn't come over. They shifted to the back of the crowd and took their seats silently while the rest of the family and friends slowly wandered in and filled up the rows of chairs. You didn't tell Vince that they were there. He had enough to deal with.

You sat silently holding your brother's hand while staring at the pink casket. It was so little. She was so little.

By the end of the service, Vince had gone through all the tissues you had stashed in your pocket. He was a blubbering mess and through your own tears, you tried to be strong for him.

Eventually, everyone began to filter out the cemetery after giving their condolences to Vince and Sharise on their way out.

After seeing your nieces pink casket get lowered six feet down, you had completely forgotten that your father and stepmother were even here. And it wasn't until you thought everyone had left and you stood up about to lead your brother to the car when they approached you.

"Your mother and I are so sorry for your loss, son."

Your entire body became impossibly still hearing your fathers voice for the first time after all these years. Vince's own body had turned tense as he lifted his head and looked passed you to where your parents were standing.

Slowly, you turned around and came face to face with your father while your stepmother hovered in the background silently.

"What are you doing here?" You questioned, glaring at your father through your sunglasses.

"We don't want any trouble. We heard the news and wish we could have met Skylar before she passed." Your stepmother spoke up softly.

Vince was on his feet beside you in an instant. He hadn't moved an inch since the funeral started, but his body was now practically vibrating with sudden rage.

"I was never going to let you meet her!" Your brother sneered, pointing at your father and ignoring his mother. "I was never going to let you fuck up her life like you tried to do to ours!"

Your fathers' nostrils flared, a predatory expression shifting over his face and even though you weren't a weak child anymore, that look still had you flinching back a step, your heart hammering in your chest. But Vince didn't back away, instead he stood up straighter ready for a fight.

"I didn't fuck up your life. Look at you now. You're famous, son. You're welcome."

"I did this!" Vince growled. "Y/N and I did this ourselves with no help from you!"

Your father shook his head, "I made you who you are. You owe me."

Oh, hell no.

"Get the fuck out of here!" You ordered, marching forward and planting yourself between him and Vince. "You're nothing but a poor, fat, old man trying to use his sons grieving state to his own advantage. So, get the hell out of here!"

Your father stared down at you, a mixture of surprise and anger washing over him at your words and courage. 10-year-old you would have been terrified right now, but you were done dealing with your father's abuse. You were done with everything.

"I wish your mother never dumped you on our doorstep." He snarled.

"I wish you weren't my fucking father!" You snapped back, but that only made your fathers face break out into a sickening grin and your blood turned to ice.

What were you missing? Why the fuck was he smiling?

"I'm not your father, Y/N."

You blinked, thinking you had heard him wrong, "what?"

"Your mother was a whore. I knew her well, but I never had sex with her. You're not mine, but she dumped you on our doorstep and then blew her brains out the next day."

Your mouth opened but no words came out. Your brain seemed to be short circuiting, unable to process the bombshell your father had just dropped.

He wasn't your real father? All this time... all these years, you thought your mother might've been out there somewhere, but she was dead. She killed herself after giving birth to you.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Vince questioned from behind you.

"She's not your sister, Vincent. You two aren't even related."

No.

That wasn't possible.

Vince was your brother. You were siblings. You were related. You had to be related.

"Get out." You whispered, shaking your head at him as hot tears filled your eyes. "Get out of here! Get the fuck out!"

You stepped forward and shoved your father's chest roughly causing him to stumble back a step.

"Get the fuck out of here!" You screamed at him, the tears in your eyes falling down your cheeks.

Although your father was older now, he was still fast.

His hand was suddenly around your neck. Not hard enough to be strangling, but not not hard enough to be painful. Your father was yelling, if his red angry eyes and moving lips were anything to go by. But you couldn't make out his words, it was like you were underwater, everything muffled and just white noise.

The fingers tightened around your neck like a vice.

You choked, gasping for breath as you tried to pry away his fingers, but he only squeezed harder blocking the air from getting to your lungs.

The pain pulled you out from under the make-believe water, and the first words you heard were-

"I kept a roof over your head and food on the table! You're not even my fucking child but I took you in and gave you everything! I kept you alive! I kept you both alive! You little shits owe me!"

"Honey, stop!" Your stepmother shouted in the background somewhere.

If you weren't being strangled to death, you would have commented on how it only took her 20 something years to speak up against your father. Usually, she'd just turn her head away and pretend the abuse never happened. Guess she finally grew a backbone after all this time.

Your father ignored her but didn't get a chance to say anything else before Vince suddenly yanked him off you and threw him backwards. Your father stumbled back a few steps, unable to keep his footing before falling on his ass in the dirt.

You doubled over grabbing your neck, coughing and struggling to breathe. You sucked in shallow shaky breaths trying to get air back into your lungs.

Vince now had your father pinned on his back throwing punch after punch and there was nothing the old man could do to stop it. His mother was crying for him to stop, but all Vince could see was red. All the rage and anger that had been simmering inside of your brother after losing his daughter had erupted out of him. He needed to let out his emotions, so you didn't try and stop him straight away.

"Don't you ever touch her again! Don't you ever show your fucking face here again! Do I make myself clear?!" Vince screamed slamming his fist down against your fathers bloodied face and showed no signs of stopping.

"Vince. Come on." You said, your voice sounding weaker than expected as you reached over and grabbed his elbow stopping him from laying out another punch. "He's not worth it. Let's go."

To your relief, Vince simply nodded breathing heavily through his nose as he staggered up to his feet allowing you to guide him away. His mother rushed over and dropped to her knees beside your father not saying anything to either of you as you walked away.

Once you returned home, Vince's anger had subsided, and he switched back into a protective big brother while he inspected the damage your father had caused. He hadn't mentioned Skylar since the funeral. He was trying to distract himself from thinking about his daughter, so he focused on you instead. Vince had fractured his hand from the punching, but all he cared about was the darkening finger shaped bruises around your neck.

"We're not even related." You whispered, using all your strength to keep yourself from crying.

Vince's eyes shifted away from the bruises on your neck before meeting your gaze, "I don't care what that asshole said. We were raised together. We did everything together. Playing, fighting, surfing, singing, everything. You're my sister."

"Am I?" You asked, your voice a mere whisper as you thought back to what your brother had said in the studio.

'Vince, come on, I'm your sister.' 'Not anymore.'

Your brother's expression dropped, and he lowered his head with a heavy sigh remembering his own words all too well.

With everything that had happened in the last few months, neither of you have had a chance to really talk about that day in the studio. You never bought it up because there were bigger things to worry about and neither did Vince... until now.

"I didn't mean what I said that day." Vince admitted, lifting his head to meet your eyes. "I was angry. I was lashing out and I shouldn't have said what I did. But you and me? We're siblings. You're my little sister, don't you ever forget that."

-

Over the following week, you slept in Vince's spare bedroom upstairs. You didn't want to go back to your house alone and Vince didn't want you to leave because he didn't want to be alone either.

Neither of you knew what to do. You were both messes, but you tried to be strong for him.

Vince had gone back to drinking heavily and it broke your heart seeing him like that. If he kept going down that path, he was going to drink himself to death and that possibility scared you more than anything. A small part of you wondered if that was what Vince wanted.

Did he want to drink himself into an early grave? Could he not bare being on Earth without Skylar?

You were so scared of the answer that you didn't dare ask. It wasn't like you hadn't thought about it either. Just one deep slice of the knife and it would all be over. The pain, the grief, the sadness, everything. It would be so easy to just end it all, but you feared that if you did then Vince would do it too and that horrifying thought was enough to stop you.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Vin." You whispered, leaning against the doorframe watching Vince sitting on the porch steps already halfway through a bottle of vodka trying to drown his sorrows.

"Is that right?" He said, glancing over his shoulder. "Roll up your sleeves then."

Vince raised his eyebrows, challenging you to do it because he knew for a fact that you had been cutting again. He never saw you do it though. You always hid it from him, but he knew.

"That's what I thought." Vince turned away taking a sip from the bottle. "You don't understand how this feels... the pain of losing a child."

"I... I kind of do."

Vince lowered the bottle from his lips, "what?"

Ah, shit.

Were you really about to tell him?

You, Tommy and Nikki had agreed not to tell Vince. But that was back when you thought your brother didn't know about the three of you being together. Things had changed.

"I know how you feel because I felt it. And I feel it every day. So, when I say that I am sorry Vince. I really mean it."

His brows furrowed in confusion as he slowly turned to face you properly.

You smiled sadly at him through the tears now threatening to spill from your eyes. A dread of realisation washed over your brother, his face turning pale.

He figured it out.

"Were you..." He seemed unable to finish the sentence, so you simply nodded.

"I was pregnant. I had a miscarriage."

His eyes widened into saucers, jaw practically hitting the floor.

"What?!"

You slowly walked over and sat down on the porch step beside him taking the bottle of vodka and swallowing a few mouthfuls because if you were going to talk about this, you were not doing it sober.

"Why-why didn't you tell me?" Vince asked and his voice sounded so sad, so hurt that you had kept this to yourself, and it broke your heart.

"I couldn't." You whispered, blinking back tears.

"Was it after I left?" He asked, guilt heavy in his voice.

"No. It was before that."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"You would've killed the father."

A beat of silence passed between the two of you before horrible realisation hit him like a slap to the face.

"Nikki or Tommy?"

He didn't sound angry though. He just sounded sad.

"Honestly? I don't know." You admitted, staring out at the dark ocean in the distance.

"Jesus Christ." Vince swore softly under his breath before reaching up and wiping away the tears you hadn't realised were in his eyes too.

"I know it's not the same but... but I'm here for you, Vince. Let me help you."

"Fuck… I’m sorry." He whispered, glancing over at you sadly before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side while he cried silently. "I'm so sorry."

You weren't sure if he was apologising to you or to Skylar or both. It didn't matter though. You rested your head against your brother's shoulder and let him cry while overlooking the beach that had once been your safe haven as children.

-

The next day, Vince checked himself into rehab and committed to it.

With Vince gone, you didn't know what to do.

You couldn't stay at his house and the thought of going back home to your own empty cottage made you want to cry. You were happy Vince was getting help, but now you were left alone. No brother, no niece, no baby, nobody. You were alone... again.

If you went back to your house alone, you knew it would end badly. So, that afternoon you found yourself standing in front of a familiar wooden door knocking hesitantly. There was no answer for a couple of minutes, and just when you began to talk yourself out of it and turned to leave, the door suddenly opened.

Nikki Sixx stood in the doorway visibly shocked by your presence, but when he saw the bruise around your neck and tears in your eyes, he stepped forward and pulled you into his chest without a word.

Then, in the safety of his arms, you let your guard down and cried properly for the first time in a long time.

-

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[bpdohwhatajoy]

Everyone talks about inner child. Nah see that’s easy shit to deal with. My inner child is mostly really hurt and sad and lonely and vulnerable. But my inner teenager? Oh my fucking god. It’s just constant anger. Angry at everything. Angry at everyone. Angry at the world. It’s loneliness too but there’s once again an anger to it. There’s vulnerability but once again dipped in anger.