#you ever scream or ramble into the void and feel like you may regret it? because fuck regrets this is tumblr we're all dumbasses here

[thelurk3r]

we need more weird were-animals. Heck maybe not even just animals. Guy who turns into a fucked up plant humanoid at night.

werewolves are cool but like. We need more variety.

werehuman. They turn into a human but one that looks different enough to not look like them.

[beauenfer]

True Happiness

ﾟ: *✧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫: @beauenfer ﾟ: *✧𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4,651

ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*: .: ⋆*･ﾟ: ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

•‎𐩐 ༘ ✦* FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

•‎𐩐 ༘ ✦* PAIRING: Angel x fem!Reader

•‎𐩐 ༘ ✦* WARNING: 18+, not very explicit but there’s sexual content, some language

•‎𐩐 ༘ ✦* SUMMARY: After an argument with Angel, reader doesn’t think he loves her. He shows up to her room that night to prove her wrong. But all actions have consequences, as the old saying goes

ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*: .: ⋆*･ﾟ: ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“YOU THINK I WANTED THIS?” You cried, whipping around to look at the man you loved. But he was no more of a man than you were. He was a vampire, a killer. He’s hurt innocent people to fulfill his own boredom and pleasure, he had two hundred years on you, and he was considered a monster, yet you couldn’t help but fall in love. You must’ve looked crazy, at least to him. With your frizzy hair, red cheeks, quivering chin, and swollen, bloodshot eyes. You’d been fighting for over an hour, at least, over something you regret even admitting.

Angel looked at you with a simple frown, wearing the white tank top he always wore when it was just the two of you. He clenched his jaw, looking at the floor. And for some reason, that made you angrier. It made you think he couldn’t even look at you.

You quickly walked up to him, and shoved his chest in a fury you’ve never felt before. You felt like your skin was burning, a kind of rage that had you thinking dangerously. You couldn’t see due to your tears blurring your vision. They were relentless, falling down your cheeks, to your neck, down to your shirt in wet patches around the collar.

“What? You can’t even look at me?! Am I that repulsing to you?!” You exclaimed, wiping your tears with your palms to give yourself some dignity.

Suddenly, Angel’s face had morphed into his vampire one with a growl. He reached you in one big step and grabbed your wrists, forcing you to look at him. You sobbed as he jerked your arms, hovering over you as your legs seemed to have gotten weak.

“Do you love this, huh? You may think you love me but do you love this? The monster? Don’t stand there and tell me you love me when you don’t! I’ve killed people far more innocent than you and liked it! I loved to hear them scream, make them beg for mercy!” He hissed, his fangs poking out from behind his lips as he spoke with fervor. He was trying to give you all the reasons you shouldn’t love someone like him, trying to convince you he wasn’t worth loving. But you knew better than that.

“That wasn’t you! That wasn’t you!” You could barely breathe, closing your eyes because you couldn’t look at him. You were just rambling and sobbing all at once. Your chest felt like it was going to explode and your heart was hurting. You told him you loved him, you told him you didn’t care that he was a vampire, you put your heart of glass out in the open and it felt like he had crushed it. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle this rejection.

“It was me! I’m a killer! I’m a monster! Monster’s don’t love!” He growled, jerking you in his arms one last time before you fell to the ground, sobbing on the floor. Angel just turned around, clenching his fists.

You looked at the tattoo on the back of his shoulder, feeling something spark inside you that had your shaky legs standing you up. You closed your eyes for a few moments to calm your tears, a sudden realization that all this yelling was getting you nowhere.

You inhaled shakily, giving Angel your final words.

“I know what you are, perfectly well. You were a killer, you were a monster. But you’re not anymore. So stop trying to make me hate you.” You paused to see if he would react, he stayed turned away. Another tear fell down at the silence, but you continued.

“I love you, Angel. And I am so sorry for that. I didn’t mean to, it just happened. Shit happens. But it’s your decision whether or not you want to do anything about it.” You spoke through your teeth, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your flannel. When you still didn’t get a response, you scoffed to make one last jab at him.

You were hurt, taking his silence as your answer. You nodded your head wordlessly, snatching your bag off the couch and turning around to leave. In your departure, the flames from the fireplace roared, spitting out flames like it knew the pain you felt.

“Guess that’s it then.” You grimaced, walking towards the door.

Angel waited a few moments until he turned around, about to speak. He sighed when he saw an empty room staring back at him, mocking.

You were already gone.

ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*: .: ⋆*･ﾟ: ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“Wait, you told him you loved him and he didn’t say it back?” Willow asked in astonishment, and you could just imagine her expression. Sitting on the edge of the bed just like you, a toothbrush in her mouth with her blue pajamas. Her nightly ritual before she went to bed.

You clenched the phone in your hand, looking down at your lap as you remembered. Your jaw hurt from yelling, your eyes hurt from crying, and you still couldn’t control your sniffling. It may have happened a fews hours prior, but it still felt like you were there, standing in front of the emotionless man you thought would love you, you thought you would be with forever.

Looks like you were wrong.

“Basically, yeah. I’m sorry, Willow, I don’t want to talk about it right now. It’s still just so... fresh, you know? And I just really feel like going to sleep to see if today was just a dream… I’ll tell you tomorrow. Me, you, the gang. Buffy’s house, right?” You forced a smile, but quickly went back to frowning. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew you didn’t feel up to hanging out with the gang tomorrow. You wanted to sit in bed and relish in your last day of isolation before your parents came back, a bowl of your favorite icecream as you had a romance movie marathon for the rest of the night. But you owed it to them, having spent the last few weekends with Angel, talking about his past, snuggling on the couch, and just enjoying each other’s company before you had to leave that morning. And who knows, maybe the get together with the gang would be the best thing for you. You really did miss them.

You heard Willow let out a sigh, feeling your sadness through the phone.

“Hey, if you’re not feeling up for it, we don’t have to. We can just do it next weekend!” Willow suggested, understanding how badly it can feel when you thought someone didn’t reciprocate your feelings. She always did have a thing for Xander, after all.

You let out a pathetic laugh, rubbing your nose with the tissue in your hand. You sniffled, shaking your head.

“Oh Willow, I can’t do that. I’ve missed out on so many nights as it is... Trust me, I’ll be all bright and bushy-tailed in the morning. Promise.” You smiled, hoping you could believe your own lies.

“Okay. Are you sure you’re gonna be okay by yourself tonight? I can come over, cheer you up with some sugary goodies!” Willow exclaimed, concerned for your well-being. She knew you were feeling fragile right now, and maybe a friend is what you really needed.

“Willow!” You giggled, admitting that this conversation has made you feel a little better. And had your voice always been that scratchy?

“Alright, fine. Remember, there’s plenty of guys who want to go out with you! Like, um, you know, Lucas. Or-or Thomas. Angel’s an ass.” Willow stated, making you let out a genuine laugh. You loved Willow’s loyalty, and the fact she was already trying to hook you up with someone else.

“Thanks, Willow, but I haven’t even stopped crying much less thought about moving on. I’m going to go to sleep now, okay? I love you.” You brought the tissue up to your nose, tears glazing over your eyes. You hated the fact that you couldn’t stop crying.

Willow nodded her head, slumped over.

“Love you, too. Be careful and dream good things. Like puppies.” Willow barely smiled, hearing your goodbye on the other end before hanging up the phone.

You did the same, sniffling some more. The house felt deafening, big and empty. There hasn’t been noise for the last week, ever since your parents went to LA for some convention. They were both doctors, which meant they were away a lot. You were always scared of being home alone, the knowledge of what ghastly things that could break in had you make Angel stay the night with you so you felt safe. But not tonight. Angel wasn’t going to protect from the silence, much less anything ever again.

You got off your bed to put your phone back in its socket, the sound of your own footsteps obvious in the quietness of the house. You wanted to cry, cry and cry and cry until you couldn’t possibly cry anymore. You wanted to scream and throw things in some way to relieve the pressure on your chest. But at the same time you were just exhausted, void of anything. Is this what it felt like to break up with someone? You didn’t know. Angel was the first boyfriend you ever had, and you thought he would be the last. But maybe, just maybe, Angel was right. Maybe monster’s couldn’t love.

You shuffled over to your nightstand, lighting up the candles there. They smelt like cherry blossom and rosewood, two sweet scents that gave life to your now dull senses. But as you lit the last candle, you felt that familiar gust of wind on your back, gently blowing your hair against your neck.

You heard the cars in the street below, the ruffling of the trees, and the buzzing of the wildlife outside your window. Your hand paused above the candles, hovering over the flame so that you could feel the heat on your palms.

“Can we talk?” His voice was also so quiet, so calm. It would have spooked you, the suddenness of it all, but you had gotten used to Angel showing up so unexpectedly.

You swallowed, closing your eyes so you didn’t cry. He didn’t deserve that satisfaction.

“I’ve already said what I wanted to say. You can leave.” You mumbled, ignoring him as you stayed turned around, trying to distract yourself with ruffling your pillows.

You didn’t hear him come closer, but you felt it.

“Please.” He sounded so pathetic, like you were the one who broke his heart. How dare he sound like you were the one to blame for the current situation. Even if he was trying to act like he gave a damn about your feelings, he was still acting like the gentlemen you knew him to be. With his please, his thank you’s, and his your welcome’s.

You felt uncomfortable; you really didn’t feel like having an even more heartbreaking discussion and having to act like it didn’t affect you. You didn’t have the strength not to cry.

Despite your bitterness, you couldn’t help but turn around at the sound of his voice, so sad. You had to breathe when you looked at him, the heavy atmosphere in your room making it seem stuffy. You had to breathe or else you’d choke on it. The candles flickered noisily behind you, and you could barely see Angel's face if it wasn’t for the moonlight.

He had on that same white tank top from earlier, his leather coat slung over it. He stood by the end of your bed instead of by the window, his fingers nervously fidgeting together. When you finally looked at his face, you didn’t have the strength to look him in the eye. Going by his features alone he looked broken. And you knew if you looked him in his maple-colored eyes you would see his sadness, and a million other sad things swirling in its depths. To be truthful, you knew if you looked into his eyes you wouldn’t have the strength to look away, and you would end up feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach only love could give someone. You knew you wouldn’t have the strength to say you hate him. Because in all reality you didn’t. You still loved him, and you always will.

You were a stubborn person though, known to hold grudges. So you crossed your arms and cocked out a hip, supporting your weight on one foot.

You cleared your throat, trying to give him the meanest look you could.

“Fine. Let’s start with why you’re here. Interrupting my alone time.” You gave him a sarcastic smile, not wanting him to think you were as affected by earlier as you actually were. You had suddenly gotten loud, the whispers voiced before forgotten. In your opinion, whispering would make it too intimate. And with your nerves, you just wanted to cover up the wobbliness in your voice.

Angel didn’t stop looking at you, perfectly statuesque.

“Like I said, we need to talk. And besides, I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know you don’t like being alone.” He still murmured, but that was usually how loud his voice got. One of the reasons you loved him. He was always your peace when you caused storms, the beast to your beauty and the cold to your hot. That was one thing Buffy always said. You two were just harmonious. You clicked.

You swallowed, but your throat was dry.

You felt a pull in your chest when he sounded like he cared, remembering your fear of your empty house. He wanted to make sure you were okay? You forced yourself not to focus on that.

“Well, I’m a big girl, Angel. I can handle myself against the big bad house.” You snipped, throwing your hands up impatiently. Truth was you wanted him to stay, stay and say he loved you. Stay and protect you like he’d been doing ever since you met him. But that inconsolable part of you wanted him to leave so he didn’t see you cry into your pillow.

He sighed.

“Listen, I think we both said things we shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean to get... physical with you. I never wanted you to see that part of me.” Angel looked down at the ground, ashamed. You just shook your head at the statement.

“What do you mean that part of you? Angel, you are aware that I knew you were a vampire, right? I looked past that because it doesn't define who you are.” You gave yourself the opportunity to drop the facade, but regretted it as soon as he looked up at you with those sad brown eyes.

You continued when all he did was look at you.

You took a step forward, everything you wanted to say earlier suddenly being poured out when you were supposed to be hating him. But now here you were about to expose your soul even more than you did before. See? You couldn’t be mean to Angel even if you tried.

“Angel, do you really think you being a vampire had anything to do with us? I knew you were a vampire long before I even met you. I didn’t care then and certainly didn’t care when we started dating. I didn’t fall in love with you because I wanted some fling with a guy who occasionally drunk blood so I can go around school and brag about how cool I am. I fell in love with you because... “ You couldn’t finish, getting distracted by the way he was looking at you. He looked at you like he’s always known you, like you were the only he would die for. He looked so intense, and your breathing had gotten a little heavier. You willed yourself to look into his eyes, stepping up to him.

“Because what?” Angel murmured, his breath fanning over your lips. You stood just below his chin, looking up at him with an undying devotion his eyes reflected.

You continued, your voice just as soft as his.

“I fell in love with you because you were always there when I didn’t even ask you to be, waiting to see who you’d had to kill whenever you’d see me cry. You’d always be the one asking if I’m okay, and you’d always make me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. I fell in love with the way you’d hold me when you’d sleep and make me feel safe. I love how you were always so supportive, honest, and caring. You always made me feel special. I fell in love with the man... “ You tentatively reached up and touched his face with your palms, slowly rubbing your thumb on his cheek as a fond smile cracked through your frown.

“...not the monster.” You whispered, glancing down at his lips when he leaned closer and his fingers hesitantly traced along your hips. The space around you seemed electric, and your body buzzed to be touched by him. You leaned towards him pathetically, forgetting about how you were supposed to be crying your night away at the thought of what you and Angel could’ve been.

Angel kept glancing between your eyes and lips, more confident as his hands gripped your hips and he pressed his forehead against yours.

You closed your eyes and swallowed, struggling to catch a breath in the heat you were feeling. You both knew what you wanted, but you needed to hear him say it.

“(y/n)...” You hummed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I love you, too. I love you more than life itself. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before I just didn’t know how.” Angel had his eyes closed, whispering his confession that had your heart swelling and smile growing. You felt something wet on your lips, a tear you didn’t realize had fallen. At this moment, nothing in this world mattered except you and Angel. Your love, your one and only. You were excited, excited for the future you were going to share with Angel. But you could barely focus on anything right now.

All you could focus on was how close Angel’s lips were to yours, how his hands gripped your hips like he couldn’t believe you were real, standing in front of him in your pink pajamas and fuzzy socks, the most beautiful he’d ever seen you. All that registered in your mind was how hot you were, the dim-lighting of your room and the crackling of the candles behind you, the smell of cherry blossom and rosewood getting you more worked up than you were.

Everything about this moment was perfect. The darkness, the moonlight, the candles.

But above all, the romance between two passionate lovers added to the ambiance.

You really couldn’t believe that Angel loved you.

“Angel.” You murmured, your nose bumping his.

“What?” He responded, his fingers digging into your skin.

“Kiss me already.” You breathed, already reaching up towards his lips.

It was with your permission did he finally do it, his arms quickly going around your waist and pushing you into his chest, kissing you with an intensity that made your heart swell. It was full of passion, and said the feelings the both of you were feeling but couldn’t put into words.

Your hands were in his hair, on his arms, anything you could grab as he bent down and picked you up. You jumped, seperating from him to wrap your legs around his waist, boosting you up to his height.

You couldn’t keep up with your own breaths, knowing your lips must’ve been puffy and pink just as his were. There was a moment where you both paused, equally as emotional and aroused as the other. You stared into each other's eyes, knowing what was about to happen but unsure how to go about it. You had never felt so vulnerable with another person and more loved than you did in that moment. Every word said earlier that day and every tear fallen was forgotten now, because all you could feel was happiness and love and every other emotion swelling in your chest.

“I love you.” It felt unfamiliar on your tongue to say, but that was the only thing you could say. You gripped his face and kissed him once again. He only took one step forward as you started shoving his jacket off his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs as you landed on the bed, one of his hands going up towards your shoulder to support his weight on top of you. He fell between your thighs, his mouth going down towards your neck as he took his jacket off the rest of the way, throwing it to the floor behind him blindly. You let out a moan, opening your neck as your hands pulled at his hair.

You felt like crying, but not for the reasons you did earlier. You felt so loved, so cared for, so safe. Angel was the only one who made you feel like that, the only one that made you mad enough to care, the only one that could get you so emotional. You bit your lip when he nipped at your jaw, a smile breaking onto your face as your back arched into him.

In all the haze you were feeling, you didn’t acknowledge his hands languidly unbuttoning your pajama top. All you could feel was the coldness of his body and the coldness of his fingertips, but also the hotness of his mouth on your base of your neck.

You were letting out all kinds of desperate noises you never imagined you could make, leaning up and taking off your top Angel had unbuttoned. While you did that, your lustful gaze couldn’t leave Angel when he picked himself up on his hind legs and took off his tank top, just throwing to the side like he did with his jacket.

He stopped there, the candles illuminating both your faces in a flickering orange glow. He stared at you, at your white bra your heaving breasts were about to spill out of, the way you leaned back with heavy eyelids looking at him like you wanted to be devoured. He thought you looked so angelic, your hair laid out on the bed like a halo, but you were biting your lip and looking at him like you were nothing but sinful.

He felt the same way you did, pure love and devotion to you. It was then he realized, with you lying down beneath him and his fingers itching to touch you, that he would do anything for you. If you told him to leave, told him you never loved him in the first place, he would never feel the same. He loved you in a way that seemed to take control of his life. All he could think about was you, all he could see was you, and now all he wanted to do was feel you. Make you feel as good as you made him.

You grabbed the gold chain around his neck, pulling him down to your lips. As you moaned into his mouth, his hands were reaching up to grab at your breasts from above the material of your bra. You reached down and yanked your shorts off, but as quick a pace as it felt like, you were both going at a sweet pace, nothing but your breathy gasps and small moans filling the silence. He didn’t want to rush this. He wanted to touch you, feel you, be the only one to make you feel like this for the rest of your lives.

A few moments later, of confident strokes on your soft skin and you grabbing at everything you can, you both ended up fully exposed to the other, your clothes thrown all about the room as the soft fabric of the duvet helped you relax against the bed.

You grabbed at his shoulders as he thrust into you slowly, making sure you felt him inside you. Surely enough it made something pull in your stomach as you threw your head back against the mattress, your mouth wide open as you breathed a moan into Angel’s ear.

He had his head buried into your neck, letting out a few groans of his own when you would clench around him. Your nails dug into the griffin tattoo on his shoulder, beads of blood poking through but immediately being healed as quickly as they came.

You couldn’t stop from moaning directly into his ear, one of your hands holding the back of his head into your neck as he thrust into you some more. You felt so full and good, feeling every time he would slide out and back in because it would send another pleasurable pulse up into your core.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, Angel could feel it against his own from the way he held you to him so tightly. You felt another tear fall from your eyes as he continued on, making you feel things you knew no one else could ever make you feel. You felt like sobbing he felt so good, but that was not only from the tightness in your stomach and the hot pleasure in your core, but also because you loved this man with your whole being, and just thinking about the intimacy the two of you were sharing made you emotional.

Angel was holding you so tightly and driving into you so passionately it wasn’t long before you had reached your peak, crying his name out into your room as he growled in your ear, finishing the same time as you in one more thrust that you curling your toes and grabbing the blanket between your fingers.

When you were both done, he held you underneath the covers, you curled against his chest and sleeping soundly, a tingling still in between your legs.

He told you he loved you one last time before he went to sleep himself, a tender kiss on your forehead the last thing he did before closing his eyes.

ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*: .: ⋆*･ﾟ: ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Angel snapped his eyes open at the crack of thunder, a pain in his chest that had him gasping for air as he collapsed out of the bed, the heavy pounding of rain blocking out his cries as he crawled to the window.

You were still blissfully asleep, an absent smile on your face as you clutched the blanket up to your chin on the other side of the bed, the rain lulling you into a deeper sleep.

Angel looked up at the sky as he gripped at his chest, groaning in pain on your bedroom floor as the moonlight shone down onto his nude form, curled into himself at the agony. As his soul died inside of him, all he could think about was you. His love, his salvation, his true happiness.

You see, you loved Angel with all your heart, you would do anything for him, die for him, love him in a way he’d never been loved before. Angel was your calm in the storm, the only sane thing in your crazy, crazy world, you would be aimless if you didn’t have him by your side. You planned on waking up snuggled into the love of your life, a smile on your face and a new glow to your skin.

But Angel was no longer the man you loved. He had become the monster because you were his weakness, the only thing in this cruel world he truly cared about. It was because he loved you that he could no longer.

It was because you were his true happiness, did his curse get revoked, because the man you loved had turned into the monster he always was.

Angelus.

[anthonyed]

since i’m already hopeless, i thought i’ll wallow more in stevetony post cacw and try tp fix it. this is a sneak peak

Tony’s broken.

Sometime between Howard’s fist and Maria’s ignorance, he’d heard his heart crack for the first time and quick second then ever since, he’d stopped counting the number of fractures line running along there.

Sometime between the age of fourteen and an assault he felt a chunk drop out, separated from its whole and he remembers still, the way it had ached that night he’d curled to himself and vowed to stop paying attention to said frail organ.

On good days, Tony can hear the muted clanging and banging of the separated clunks of his heart in its cage, missing pivotal pieces that are supposed to glue them all together into something singular and whole.

On bad days, they wail.

He tries to play deaf then; obnoxious music blasting on stereo, sledgehammer rhythmically brought down on spare metals, whiskey, scotch and cocaine overloaded system. Keyword: try. Because nothing, nothing, can mute when the broken starts to scream. Nothing. At all.

The thing is, Pepper said, “You love too much, too hard and all at once, Tony.” But Tony had never known how ever to love otherwise.

Isn’t love supposed to be that way? Aren’t you supposed to make the one you love happy? Do everything to make them happy? Give everything to keep them happy? Even if it strips you off of your dignity, your rich and your own every fucking thing?

“Isn’t that the way to love?” He had asked Pepper then.

She didn’t have an answer for him then and the way she sometimes looks at him these days, when she thinks he’s too distracted to pay her any attention, tells him that she probably doesn’t have one even today.

Naturally, Tony thinks, it’s best if he stops loving.

For a man with an incredibly high IQ reading, he can be embarrassingly stupid. He forgets. Foolishly, he forgets to take into account that the heart wants what it wants and when it does, there is no way for anyone to dictate that choice. Even the great Tony Stark himself.

And boy, did his heart wanted. Stubbornly and longingly, it wanted Steve Rogers.

Rogers with a heart so big and shiny and good to a point of being faulty.

Rogers who’s unbelievable beautiful inside, out that Tony’s shattered, twisted, broken heart sang for him.

Rogers who’s good to everyone and everything but for Tony.

Rogers who didn’t even blink an eye before smashing the remaining pieces of Tony’s heart with his Vibranium shield. Hefted it, planted it and gave it one harsh shove with all of his super soldier strength, that the pitiful remains of Tony’s pathetic heart crumbled and bled void into his veins until Tony became nothing but an empty man.

So empty that when he sees Pepper, she cries because he can’t. And when he sees her eyes, red rimmed and sad, he remembers what she had said once. About the way he loved: too much, too hard and all at once, and he has no one to blame for the damage but himself.

Whether Steve deserves it or not, is not of importance because Tony’s beyond regretting his choices in life after seventeen. The real question is, if Tony deserves it or not.

Most days, when he’s on his back staring at the blue glow on the ceiling of his bedroom, he believes he’s warranted all the hurt he’d been through. Including his parents’ abandonment, the assault, Afghanistan and now, the void in his chest. It’s only fair for all those years he’d ignorantly played the part of Merchant of Death, robbing people of love and the world of its peace. But what terrifies him the most is the realisation that after everything he’d lost, he may have still not paid the full price yet. That there still maybe some more debt written under his name.

And that scares him to death.

So much so that he decides to fuck it and embrace the spiral down. Booze, drugs, girls and lads. Self-destructiveness easily reclaims its residence in the now empty vault of his chest and sings him to hell.

Rhodey looks at him like he’s sixteen and disappointing and Tony doesn’t mind, because he feels as if he’s sixteen and a disappointment. Wearing riches on his skin and pretty faces in each arm. Every. Other. Night. Days stretching into a long and winding blankness - thank you drugs, thank you alcohol - just like the space behind his brittle ribs.

“You’re forty fucking six, Tony!” Rhodey yells at him one afternoon. After he’d recovered from the shock of finding Tony, passed out on a puddle of his own vomit, the floor littered with shards of glasses and broken furniture; aftermath of yet another outrageously reckless night of partying with all the pretties in Cali. “Act like one.”

Tony thinks, memories drawing blank, head aching and palm sticky from half dried streak of blood that may or may not be his. He doesn’t know. His back aches, all the way from his rear that sears in blinding hot pain when he tries to move – that maybe from sex, most likely non-consensual – but, who the fuck cares. Right?

Tony thinks, I’m tired. I don’t want to live anymore and I’m searching for death. Waiting for the day when I don’t have to open my eyes and face another day because all I want is to die. I want to die and all I can think about is dying and god forbid, honeybear, I hope when I do, there is not after world. I just want to stay dead. Blank. Empty. Like this thing inside me, but without the pain.

Tony says, “Relax, Rhodey. I can take care of myself.”

Rhodey looks at him in a particularly disappointed way that day. His dark eyes glowering mad as he punches his fists into his pants’ pocket and strides out of Tony’s mansion.

It’s Pepper he’s wakes up to, two nights later (or so he thinks), surrounded by sterile white walls and antiseptic smell.

“Billionaire Tony Stark found overdosed in his California mansion. Stark Industries stock is predicted to take the biggest dip of the decade.” She reads the headline of New York Times with a deceitfully serene expression on her face.

Tony turns away, unable to look at her with the amount of damage he’d inevitably caused her on his selfish attempt to seek death.

She never visited him again after that. He never saw the way she struggled to keep her tears from spilling before she left that one time.

Happy drives him to the tower; “Miss Potts order, boss,” and Tony’s too gone to even fucking care.

Pepper’s painfully optimistic. Tony is too. It’s part of being a futurist and what not. But he’s specifically pessimistic when it comes to himself. Unlike Pepper.

She puts him on R&D duty. Calls Nick Fury on him.

She makes Rhodey visit him.

All of which breezes past Tony’s apathy as he sprawls over whichever piece of furniture he’d made to and stares emptily at a distance while whoever Pepper had recruited in her mission to make Tony better rambles on and on about something he really doesn’t give a fuck about.

It nearly snaps Rhodey’s final string.  

“You know I love you, Tony. But, it hurts to see you like this. I hate this, man. I can’t do this anymore.”

Nearly, because Pepper arrives that night. Takes one look at him and sighs, “He’ll be fine after some time.”

Tony tolerates her and her attempts. He doesn’t really appreciate them. Doesn’t say sorry because, why? Why should he, when he no longer cares?

What’s the point?

Pepper can exit his life and it wouldn’t matter. That’s how bad it is. That’s how low he’d landed and frankly, he doesn’t care or want to get up from there. Because, once again. What is the fucking point?

And then one day, he walks into the kitchen and finds Steve Rogers in there.

[mechanicallyrecoveredmeat]

This is a rambling cathartic mess.

For a minute I felt like this was it, this was the year. Normalness was becoming more apart of my life at the start of the year. I could go to work, exercise, see friends and enjoy social spaces without too many issues or feeling exhausted. Dating still felt impossible then but maybe possible at some point in the future as I was on track to receive some kind of therapy beyond the standard CBT they offer everyone.

My life still felt on hold before this and has for a long time. Ive made steps towards moments and periods of progress but anytime things get too much I'd slip back into isolation, the regret, the guilt creep back up from wherever I hid them. At the moment this isolation is far too comfortable in some ways and mind clawingly frustrating in others. A real life pergatory.

Privileged as fuck too as I'm all too aware. I have plenty to do, with little to worry about in terms of essentials for living and people are out there really on the edge of survival. I’ll probably always have a roof over my head and survive.

My mind still falls into the same patterns it has for the last few years. How could anyone ever love me again, why would anyone ever take a chance on me. I don't think I'm even capable of love again. Is my life worthwhile. With so many others out there not this screwed up why take the gamble. Let alone my own self isolation basically means no one would know I exist. I'm not good looking, rich, charismatic or special enough for anyone to be expected to take me with this much baggage.

Like some writer or artist who dies before their work is recognise I feel I might die before whatever small worth I do/may have is recognised. People have seen something in me in the past. But I've destroyed so many chances of happiness I think life is done with trying with me. Ive sometimes felt like I've not had much agency to control the flow of my life. I've likened it to feeling like a stick drifting in a river and I just hit things along the way or the river forks and I'll be sent down one or the other. Sometimes into great things sometimes bads things. Sometimes I've got control, sometimes I make the right call mostly I just fuck everything up.

I'll never not have depression but Im capable of managing it but I can't imagine having the energy beyond that to really try again with someone new. I want to but I just can't picture it, can't picture myself as a physical/sexual/social being. New people feel like danger, vessels of future pain or problems. It feels like a fundamental part of being alive that is shut off to me.

The new friends I have made have been few but cherished and are people that click right away. There's too much keeping me here for this to end with me taking my life, so I feel trapped, in a way its like I'm waiting out my time. Life shouldn't feel like serving a term but the amount of work I've put in already and I'm still feeling these things and the as mount of work still to do before I'm any where near OK is so daunting at this point as I'm so tired.

Is it worth if it cost me my late 20s and what feels like it could cost most of my 30s? I feel like I'm ruined, beyond repair at this point, In the most invisible of ways. If I went full on bat shit insane, manic bi polar schizophrenic delusional there'd be a quick solution and place for me to go. The comfort in that fantasy being I may not know I'd gone mad.

I've never noticed much of a change in myself over the years. I think of 18 yo me when I was 24 and feel fine, I was older now I've changed but in ways I expected. But the older I get the more maybe I don't like those changes or I'm realising more and more how I don't have it figured out. Right now I really don't recognise the guy in the mirror anymore or maybe I do but I cant reconcile that person with the person in my memories.

The me that could love and could accept live from someone else, the me that could leave the house without too much thought, the me that only thought like this when things were bad not everyday. I don't feel that was ever me, I don't know if it was the one event or a building things but something happened and it feels like I woke up one day after those memories as who I am now and that person feels abruptly seperate from those old memories. If it was as simple as that it'd be fine but I know I'm that person that's my past my path through life I'm looking back on. This complete dissonance from knowing that's my reality and the feeling of disconnection from it feels so hugely impossible to ever reconcile. I fear it will only get worse.

Like how they say when your young you feel invincible and that you know it all but as you become older your own mortality becomes more apparent and wisdom brings the knowledge of the more you learn the more you know just how much you don't know.

Before the quarantine I even said to someone close that I don't know if I want to die but I do want everything to stop. I got my wish, the normal flow of society has stopped to a degree however I should've been more clear in my monkey claw's wish that I want the swirling mess in my brain to stop and that I could sleep and dream forever. In my dreams I'm never worried about these things, I just get on a deal with whatever happens and really feel the nowness of what weirdness is going on. Its truly completely blissful and a huge relief most days. It's getting about that time today too. I'm running out of energy and hope tomorrow's a better day.

I right this as therapy, catharsism, if anybody wants to talk about it, wants to help, I'm open to it.

But I'm happy with the feeling of screaming this into the void as I don't really ever let myself dump like this onto anyone that I know personally. I don't expect anyone to read this or make sense of it cus it really is a train of thought extended stream of verbal throw up.

A lot of people have it far worse than me and no one appreciates that fact more than me, I'm just trying to make sense/reconsile what's goin on in my head.