As I woke up, I became aware of how much my head hurt. There was an awful pounding feeling in the back of my head and I groaned as I opened my eyes to the dim lights in my chambers.
“Leina?” I heard a familiar voice whisper as a hand squeezed mine.
“Robb?” I whispered. “Oh gods, what happened?”
“You and my mother were attacked…. he wanted to kill Bran,” he told me, brushing a strand of hair off her face. “How do you feel? You’ve been unconscious for two days now.”
“I’m fine,” I muttered, trying to sit up. “Where’s Bran? Is he okay?”
“Shhh, Leina. He’s alright,” he answered me, gently pushing me back down. “You have to rest now. You hit your head on the wall when he threw you and your arms are burned from the lantern being knocked over.”
“Where’s your mother? Is she alright?”
“Yes, she’s completely fine.”
“Well then where is she? Can I see her?”
“There’s actually something that I wanted to speak with you about,” Robb said hesitantly.
“Yes?” I asked warily.
“While you were unconscious, my mother went up to the tower that Bran fell off of…. and well, she found something.”
“What did she find?”
“She found a piece of long, blonde hair.”
“What?” I asked, knowing that there was only one person that this hair could belong to. “But…. why would my mother….?”
“We’re not sure, but my mother is riding to Kings Landing at this very moment to tell my father what she found. She wants to warn him…. just in case.”
I sat in silence. Why would my mother do this? Then again, she had been acting weird those few weeks that she was here when Bran was unconscious. How could she do this? To a child? What had she been doing in that tower anyways?
“I’m so sorry, Robb…. I-”
“It’s not in any way your fault, Leina,” he interrupted me.”
“No,” he said forcibly. “Do not blame yourself for this.”
He kissed me softly on the lips and it was then that I realized that I was falling in love with him. Yes, it had only been three months since I had arrived in Winterfell, but Robb Stark was someone that I could see myself with for the rest of my life.
A few days later, Bran had finally awoken from his coma. I wanted to go and see him, but Robb wouldn’t let me leave my chambers. He said that I was ‘too fragile’ after the attack.
Which was true, I guess. I could barely walk on my own. The first time that I had stood up, I had almost collapsed due to the pain in my ankle. We hadn’t known that I had sprained my ankle until I had tried to walk.
But I was determined to see Bran. I needed to make sure that he was alright, besides the fact that he was now paralyzed. I felt terrible for what my own mother had done to him. This was my family now and I had to go and see him.
I slowly stood up, wincing at the pain in my ankle. I limped my way out of the room, holding the wall for support.
Every step was torture. I gasped with every step and I had almost made it to Bran’s chambers when Robb found me.
“Leina!?” he boomed from across the hall. “I told you to stay in bed! You are unwell!”
“I’m sorry, Robb,” I winced. “I just need to see Bran. I need to see that he’s alright.”
He quickly walked down the hallway, lifting me up into his arms.
“You will be the death of me, my love,” he chuckled as he carried me over to Bran’s chambers.
He set me down right outside the door, letting me lean against him to avoid putting any weight on my bad ankle. Robb opened the door, interrupting Old Nan, who was telling Bran a story.
Robb helped me over to sit in the rocking chair that Old Nan had abandoned when she was dismissed from the room.
“How’re you feeling?” Robb asked Bran, going over to bring his blanket up farther to go up towards his chin.
“Aside from the fact that I can no longer walk?” he replied angrily.
“Yes, well, there is nothing we can do about that now, is there?”
“Bran?” I asked after a few moments of silence. “Do you….. remember anything from the day you fell?”
“….no,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I really am trying to remember.”
“It’s alright,” I mumbled. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I-”
“Leina, stop,” Robb said. “None of this is your fault, now stop blaming yourself.”
“Leina, with all due respect,” Bran interrupted me. “I don’t blame you for any of this. I should’ve listened to my mother and not have been climbing the walls of the castle.”
“I think it’s time that both of you get some rest,” Robb said, shaking his hand through Bran’s hair before coming over to me and picking me up from the chair.
“Robb, I can walk,” I insisted stubbornly as he walked out of Bran’s chambers and down the hall.
“Oh, really?” he scoffed. “Is that why you almost collapsed outside Bran’s chambers from trying to get here on your own.”
“Well you wouldn’t take me to see him,” I mumbled back at him.
“Well I’ve been slightly busier than usual with my mother being gone, but I promise that once you are better I will take you wherever you want to go.”
There was silence then, not awkward though. It was comforting. I snuggled my head further into Robb’s chest and his grip on me tightened slightly. I was exhausted from the walk to Bran’s chambers since I wasn’t supposed to be out of bed for another week at least.
I felt myself fall asleep as he carried me to my room, setting me down on my soft bed of furs. I still hadn’t gotten used to the cold weather of the North.
After he tucked the furs around my sleeping body I felt him kiss my forehead, pushing some hair behind my ear before he quietly left the room.
“Get down!” Sam yelled at me, his voice commanding and firm. I
immediately did as he asked as rock salt went flying over my head and
the all too familiar sound of a ghost dissipating struck my ears.
“Thanks,” I let out the words in relief.
Sam nodded his head quickly before raising his gun back up to eye
level and moving expertly through into the next room. Dean poked his
head around the corner, his eyebrows rigid and pensive. “Ghosts?
Really?! How did we miss that?” All traces of humor and flirtatious
sarcasm were gone now, allowing the muscles in my neck and back to
“Looks like,” I said, heading back the way we came, ready for
the next spirit to show it’s face. I didn’t have to wait long before
a sinister ghoulish face appeared before me, a twisted scream
plastered on its face as it reached for me. The greeting he received
was the warm pop of a shot gun shell’s worth of rock salt directly to
his ghostly silhouette.
* * *
The sun was just beginning to crest over the horizon when we
finally unlocked the back door, ushering out the exhausted hotel
patrons to their cars. A steady hum of whispered Thank yous rang in
the air along with the confusion typically followed. Dozens of
questions that were better left unanswered, all of which usually
began with “What was that? Was that really a ghost?”
Sam and Dean held open car doors and answered what questions they
could. Giving the “Monsters are real” speech had never been
something I excelled at. Taking advantage of my opening, I stowed my
shotgun in the trunk of the car, quietly closing it as I walked down
the road, shoving my hands in my pockets and flipping the hood of my
jacket up and over my head.
A short couple of blocks and I found myself in an Irish Pub, a cold
Guiness in front of me, and a respectable tumbler of American Honey
in my hand. I sipped slowly, eager to warm my bones, and took a deep
breath, attempting to relax and let the early morning’s events roll
off my shoulders.
“Get you something to eat?” A waitress came up to me, her
green apron matching the décor. I smiled politely.
“Monte Cristo would be great.” I handed her the unopened menu
that sat on the table in front of me and didn’t miss her eyes
glancing quickly at my drinks.
“American Honey?” she asked, indicating the tumbler of liquid
that was within grasping range of my fingers. I nodded in response
as I watched her make her way back to the bar. The rim of the glass
touched my lips and my eyes fluttered closed as my drink cooled my
skin and warmed my chest.
“It’s barely eleven in the morning,” a calm baritone voice
observed from across the table. I cringed before opening my eyes and
found that Sam had joined me.
Looking back down at the drink still in my hand, I couldn’t help
but smile and stifle a laugh. Setting the glass down on the table, I
sighed. “There was this one winter back home that it snowed like
no other. Two feet of snow overnight, it was insane. No weatherman
had even come close to predicting how bad it was going to be. And
here I was, sick out of my skull with pneumonia, fever skyrocketing,
barely able to breathe let alone sleep. When Ben comes up with this
brilliant idea to try to snowboard off of the roof.” I chuckled at
the memory. “I said no. Not enough snow on the ground, we’d end
up breaking every bone in our bodies, full of caution and fear. But
not Ben. Not even for a second. He jumped right into the snowbank
from the roof. Shattered four bones in his foot. I pulled myself
outside into the bitter cold and had to carry him back inside. So of
course, I could barely breathe and any sort of medicine required a
drive to the pharmacy which wasn’t going to happen after I
suffocated. And then Ben points over to the counter to a bottle of
American Honey. Tells me to just do a shot. Warm my bones.” I
brought the glass back up to my mouth and took a sip, reveling in the
“Did it work?” Sam asked. I shook my head in the
“And what about Ben?” He inquired further. I winced, drawing
all of my pain back into me as my mind flooded with even more
memories. I tipped the glass all the way back, pouring every last
drop down and into my eagerly awaiting mouth. Grabbing a fifty
dollar bill from my wallet, I threw the payment down at the table and
lifted myself quickly off of my seat. The waitress was just walking
over, Monte Cristo in hand, and looked at me puzzled. “Lunch got
cut short,” I attempted another polite smile and gestured to the
cash on the table as I reached for the door.
But Sam was right on my heels. “You spend so much time pushing
people away from you. What are you so afraid of? What would be so
wrong with letting someone in?” His eyes were aching, pleading for
something that I wasn’t going to give him. Everything
I thought to myself. I left the sentiment unsaid, opting instead to
slam the door behind me and begin my walk back to my car.
His fingers slipped into the
crook of my elbow, gently attempting to slow my progress. “We
definitely are not done,” his voice demanded.
I had fully expected to walk back
to the hotel, when a cherry red Ford caught my eye. I clenched my
jaw, trying in vain to keep my voice cool.
“You drove my car?” I
snapped at him as I stopped in my tracks. His hand slowly dropped
from my arm as his eyes focused on anything but my face. I could see
the embarrassment and shame written in his features.
“You want to talk to me about
boundaries? You hot wired my car!” All attempts to keep calm were
now forgotten as I pulled the driver’s side door open. The panel
beneath the steering wheel still hung open. Wires hung loose,
stripped and twisted. Slamming the panel shut, I turned the ignition
and flicked my eyes to the rear-view mirror. Sam had adjusted it to
suit his stature and now I returned it to its rightful setting.
Dean’s bright green eyes greeted me in the mirror as I gasped in
anger and surprise.
“Told him you’d be pissed,”
he crooned as he lounged in the back seat and closed his eyes. The
passenger side door opened and Sam slowly sat himself in the
passenger seat, wary and timid. “Get out,” I hissed through my
“You’re pissed?” he asked.
“You think?!” I half screamed back at him.
I shook my head, attempting to
clear my thoughts and drain even a modicum of my building rage. “I
need some sleep.”
“There’s a motel just a few
miles away down the highway.” Dean chimed in.
I pointed the car in the right
direction and drove the rest of the way in perfect and complete
silence. By the time we had checked in and walked into the room,
exhaustion had fully taken over and it became a struggle to force my
eyes to stay open. The bed closest to the door became mine as I
flopped onto the comforter without even washing my face.
I’m sorry I can’t understand just like everyone else. I’m sorry I’m not like them, though I try so hard to be. I’m sorry I’m not clever like them, I’m just not. I’m sorry I’m not really that good at anything, I wish I was. I’m sorry I’m not whole. I’m sorry I let them break me. I’m sorry I’ve ruined it all, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry I can’t kill the voices in my head, that I taint everything I touch. I’m sorry I can’t believe soft words. I’m sorry I can’t fight like I’m supposed to. I’m sorry I’m not enough. I’m sorry.
The Soldier never enjoyed arguing with Christian, but it was over something Dmitri held close to his heart. “Chris, I told you one and I’ll tell you again..I won’t just give up my religion. I’m sorry. But we’ve managed already for so many years, it won’t kill you to keep managing. We can try to get you…a tolerance built up with the prayers. Something!” Dmitri shook his head rubbing his forehead.
They’d been arguing for hours now, and the Soldier’s nerves were shot. “Bloody hell Christian what’s gotten into you? This isn’t you you wouldn’t continue to argue over my life choices!” He raised his voice just slightly at the other, standing and walking over to him.
Grabbing Christian by his shoulders he looked the boy in the face and shook his head. “Stop arguging with me over my religion! I never complain about you and your half demon self, do i!?”
“Shit, oh my God. Kill me. Justin, kill me right now.” You said, keeping your voice low.
Your best friend looked back at you, amused as he spoke through a laugh, “What?”
“Don’t look now, but Kyle just walked.” You explained, your eyes widening when your douchebag of an ex-boyfriend made eye contact with you. “Oh, God. He just saw me, shit. What the hell is he doing here? In this restaurant, of all the places in the goddamn world? Justin, kill me. Kill me, please!”
“Kyle, your ex-boyfriend, Kyle?” Justin asked, trying to clarify as you ducked your head behind a menu in an attempt to get out of Kyle’s sight.
“Yes, ex-boyfriend Kyle! Oh, no…” You breathed, feeling your lungs starting to deflate when you realized Kyle was walking towards you. You couldn’t think of anything else to do that would stop him from approaching, “Kiss me.”
Justin looked back at you, utterly confused and freaked out by your words, “Kiss you?”
“Yes, kiss me right now before I stab myself with this butter knife.” You ordered, picking up the knife sitting on the table. “He’s coming over here, Justin, kiss me!”
Before you could even prepare yourself, Justin’s lips were crashing into yours, his hands resting on both your cheeks as your eyes fluttered shut. Damn, why the hell haven’t you kissed Justin before? He really knew what he was doing.
An empty feeling fell in the pit of your stomach once he pulled away, his face still inches from yours.
“Is he still walking over here?” Justin asked, his breath fanning out against your lips. Good God…
You focused your attention on where Kyle was standing, but your eyes narrowed when you couldn’t find him. You looked around, not seeming to find your ex anywhere near here anymore. He must’ve left after seeing you and Justin.
You looked back at your best friend, faking the distress you were in just a few moments ago, “He’s not walking over here, but he’s watching. Kiss me again.”
Alright, I love me some void!Stiles, and I just thought this was cute :D Does anyone want me to do like a smut? I’ve never posted one on here before because I never really thought I was that good at it, seeing as I’ve never experienced sht like that :P Anyway, let me know if you want me to do one :)
“Ok Y/N, you’re fine, you’re okay. No one’s going to kill you,” I muttered to myself, my grip tightening around the knife in my hand. I let out a shaky breath, peeking my head around the corner of the hospital hallway, silently cheering when I saw it was empty. I tiptoed down the hall, constantly looking over my shoulder and into the seemingly empty rooms, just incase someone popped up.
“Looking for me?” a sinister voice asked, making me whip around in fright, holding the blade up in front of me. I stared straight at ‘Stiles’, trying to stop the shaking in my hands. “You really shouldn’t be holding a dangerous weapon. You could hurt yourself.”
“Have you been following me?” I asked, stepping back slowly to put more distance between myself and the unpredictable fox.
“I always look out for my girl,” he smirked, stepping forward every step I took backwards.
“I’m not your girl!” I shouted, pointing the knife straight at him. “I’m Stile’s girlfriend, not yours!”
“Oh but darling, I am Stiles now,” he chuckled darkly, lunging forward and grabbing the knife, throwing it to the side. I began to panic, immediately turning around and sprinting down the hall, throwing open the doors. I continued to run through the hospital, wincing every time I heard his sinister laugh.
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” I screamed, falling to the floor and clutching my head, tears streaming down my face.
“What if I don’t want to?” he appeared crouched in front of me, placing a cold but somewhat comforting hand on my shoulder. I flinched away from his touch, closing my eyes in fright.
“Please,” I sobbed, wrapping my arms around my torso in an attempt to comfort myself.
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, making me look up in shock. “I would never hurt you Y/N. Never in a million years.”
“Why not? You’ve hurt everyone else, you’ve killed people! So what’s so special about me?” I asked, wiping the tears away with the sleeve of my sweater.
“You’re unbelievably perfect Y/N, and everything I’ve done, is to protect you,” he sighed, sitting down in front of me and taking my hands in his, thumbs rubbing over my knuckles.
“I don’t really appreciate you killing people for me,” I scoffed, relaxing slightly.
“If you don’t want me to kill anymore, then I won’t,” he smiled.
“Really?” I raised a brow. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he nodded, standing up suddenly, holding his hands out to help me up.
“Y/N!” a sudden yell made me jump, ‘Stiles’ immediately pushing me behind him.
“Scott?” I asked, peeking around ‘Stiles’ arm.
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Scott asked.
“She’s here because she wants to be,” ‘Stiles’ answered, his hand reaching for mine.
“Being here is dangerous Y/N,” Derek growled, appearing from around the corner. ‘Stiles’ tilted his head slightly, pulling me closer.
“Are you threatening us?” he asked, a warning tone evident in his question.
1. You laugh when you call me crazy
I know it is a joke
But all I can feel when the words escape your lips is the weight of the pill bottle in my purse and the voice in my head reminding me of my therapy appointment next tuesday
2. I killed another plant
This time I did not even add water
I just placed the jar on my nightstand and watched it wither away while I stayed in bed for a week
I look at the bones in my wrist and wonder if I will one day look as beautiful as the dried up blooms look right now
3.I’ve been trying to figure out a way to make sleeping alone feel less lonely
But so far the only solution i’ve found is not sleeping at all
And drinking wine from the bottle I keep in my dresser
I’m so sorry to do this, I just wanted to see you so much.” he said, tears threatening to brim his eyes. “I know you don’t want to see me but I can’t stand being away from you for so long. this distance between us is killing me.” I nod in agreement. “I thought you’d never tell me to come over again.” I said, my voice wavering. “I wanted to since the day things went bad between us.” he wiped a tear away from his cheek. not knowing what to say, I say the only thing I can think of “I’m so sorry.” pondering for a minute, he replies “can we please try again? please. I can’t stand being away from you anymore.” I nod my head in agreement. “I don’t want you to go again.” he says, taking my hand in his. “I know. I didn’t want to have to go, believe me. I didn’t. im sorry I did, that was the worst thing I have ever done.” I reply, squeezing his hand and looking into his cloudy eyes. “the worst thing I’ve ever done is let you go without begging you to stay. I’m sorry.” he says, inhaling a deep shaky breath. “so beg me to stay.” I say. “okay. will you stay? please?” he says. I nod and smile “of course I will. I wasn’t planning on leaving again.” a wave of relief washes over his face as he replies with a simple “thank you.” and I smile “okay. I’m here.
excerpt from a book I’ll never write // ig writingmyself
TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO THINK SCHIZOPHRENIA IS A ‘‘good/cool’‘ THING TO HAVE
I can tell you.. that Schizophrenia is really.. not funny… It’s not
everyone who has hallucinations, that are actually nice to them.. Or
hallucinations that are silly.. No, there are also people who have
violent, abusive, manipulative Hallucinations and voices inside of their
heads which tells some people to kill themselves and hurt themselves in worst possible ways, and also threatens.. Some feel like they are threatened by everyone around them,
some people can’t even talk to other people, because of voices or
halucinations telling them that they will try to kill them. Some
hallucinations actually hurt you.. Remind you of past mistakes and
events.. From my own experience, my hallucination is rather calm.. BUT..
he can get hostile without a warning.. and cause me to get nightmares and nausea.. Then
there are more of them, who keep me awake at night.. SO no.. you do NOT
want schizophrenia, and it is not a good or cool thing to have… And people will judge you.. people will think you
are not normal.. My mom is disgusted by me.. because I have
schizophrenia.. That is from own experiences.
last night my roommate Claudia went out for a jog. 20 minutes later while she was on her way home she was struck by a hit and run driver and killed one house away from ending her run.
I watched men stand over her trying to perform cpr for twenty minutes. I had her blood on my hands after my mom handed me the phone they found underneath her so that we could try and call her mother. I can’t get the image of her lying on the street or the voice of the emt who came up and told me he was so sorry out of my head.
Claudia was turning 30 in two weeks. Yesterday morning I sat on the kitchen floor with her as we played with our puppies. the medical examiner doesn’t think she suffered at all, and that’s the only grace that’s been given to us.
if you see something like this happen I am begging you to stop and help. numerous people just drove by Claudia’s body as she bleeding in the street and someone even tried to move her body out of the way. please do not drive by someone like that.
and guys please please please be careful if you go out jogging on public streets. if you can try not to jog with headphones in. be very careful and very aware of the cars around you.
this is so important please be aware of your surroundings. don’t go jogging at night, it’s so hard for others to see you. if you know people who jog at night PLEASE warn them about how dangerous it is and ask them to try and find a time during the day to do it.
my mother sat on the curb saying over and over “how could I let her go running at night?”
please be careful and please make sure you let others know because things like this can happen so fast.
A/N: Hey, babes, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything other than a psych analysis but here is a bit of something that struck me. I hope y'all enjoy and if you’re lost now just wait it gets better (or worse). I’ll let you guys be the judges! (tell me what you think dont hold back, remember give me love or give me hate I can take it) As always all the love! - L xx
i’ve been taking my medication religiously for 10 years now. Or is it 20? Don’t know The classic stuff, voices shouting in my head. “Kill her”, “kill them”, “kill yourself, you worthless piece of shit” They never whisper, they always shout. i wonder why The medication really helps. The voices get low. i can sleep. i eat more. i can look at people’s eyes. But then Then i don’t know what to do. They left me a message this time And i thought they were gone.. i was so happy to be safe. They left a note. It seems like my handwriting. a little bit, but no, not that much, It reads: “Stop trying to silence us, or we’ll kill everybody” The note was inside my severed cat’s head. The head was on my nightstand. it was placed next to my copy of Freud’s “The Interpretation of Dreams” i loved my cat. i loved Billy very much. i would never hurt him. Ever i guess it’s not my handwriting after all. The ’t’s, the ’t’s are not right. i don’t cross my ’t’s like that They are real. The wrote me a note in a piece of paper. They chopped Billy’s head off And i would never hurt him. i knew it, i guess. i’ve always doubted i was insane. What should i do
WHEN THE LIBERALS AND ZIONISTS ATTACK ME, AND CALL ME A NAZI, EVEN THOUGH IM FROM CALIFORNIA AND FROM A ADOPTED INTERRACIAL FAMILY, IM GOING TO CALL THEM A JEW NAZI!!!! BECAUSE JUST LIKE THE Nazi’s wanted to oppress and kill a peoples voice and lifes existence in every way, the jews are trying to kill us (non Nazi’s) by labeling us Nazi’s and skin heads and fascists, even when, we’re not!!!! Thanks FOR THE OPPRESSION AND DEATH THREATS !!!!! I CROWN THEE, JEW NAZI’S!!!!
PLEASE REPOST, AND GET EM LIT UP!!! LONG LIVE MY WHITE EUROPEAN HERITAGE, BROTHERS AND SISTERS!!!! 14 WORDS!!! SEE YOU IN VALHALLA !!!