|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Her Reality She gets these thoughts; dark and lonely thoughts.
She get stuck; a maze inside her mind.
It's there she silently screams; crying these dry tears.
It's no one's fault.
Though some events in her life haven't helped.
It's her depression and anxiety.
She tries to fight, but they do tend to consume her.
Nothing has gone right for her; three maybe four months of constant pain.
She has people in her life who care, she knows that.
But she can't help but to think "why?"
She's a fuck up; a little girl who can't get her feet back on the ground.
She knows there are people who have it worse.
She knows she should just stop talking about it all.
But something inside her won't allow it.
This may just seem like a rant; a small
My OutcastsI look at the picture on my computer screen
A mixture of people, each with their own personal hell, filled with their own demons. Each of them, putting a smile on their face, ready to fight the next battle the world has for them; knowing they'll never have to truly fight alone. Everyone of them, different than every other person on Earth.
All of them will fall, but will be pulled back to their feet by the others. Some of them will have battle scars that will be known by others- maybe judged by the ignorant people who know nothing about the warriors fighting- but never judged for their scars by the ones closed to them.
All of them, feeling things so deeply it seems like they'll never see the sunlight again. But one day they will, and the people by their side will be the ones to be with them every step of the way. They'll hold each other and stand by their sides through thick and thin.
Writers, actors, musicians, artists, mathematicians, scientists, every one of them having their o
Supernatural part 2 "Come on, Cas!" Sam yelled.
"Noooooooooooooooooo!" Cas wailed loudly. "I DON'T WANNA!" Dean could hear this all from the kitchen downstairs. He looked at Bobby for help, but he just shook his head.
"Cas, come on, buddy, you need sleep!" He heard Sam say loudly. It was obvious that he was getting fed up with small Cas.
"Any clues yet as to what did this?" Dean asked Bobby.
"None. But what ever it is we better find out how to reverse it before your brother murders him." Dean couldn't help but smile slightly at this. He looked towards the stairs that led to where Sam and Cas were. It was going to be a long night if Sam couldn't get him to calm down.
"BOBBY!" Sam shrieked. Bobby sighed and put down the book he was looking at. Slowly he got up and walked to the stairs. "BOBBY, HELP ME!" Sam yelled.
"I'm comin'!" Bobby called. He turned to Dean and said, "That brother of yours, he can fight all
Supernatural fanfic part 1 "Cas?" Dean called into the dark house. When no one answered he called his friend's name again. "Dude, where the hell are you?" Still no one answered.
"Dean?" Sam whispered. Dean looked at his brother and could see the worry in his eyes, but it didn't compare to the worry Dean was feeling. "What if we're-"
"We're not," Dean interrupted. "Cas?" he called again but still no one answered. He nodded towards his brother and the two of them slowly made their way through the house.
"Dean, what did he say on the phone?" Bobby asked in a ruff whisper.
"He said that he needed help," Dean replied. He checked the small kitchen sweeping his gun and flashlight around to make sure no one or any thing was there. "Clear."
"Help with what?" Sam asked coming in.
"I don't know." He was getting tired of them asking him these questions when they should be looking. He quickly moved to the dinning room. "Castiel?
Always and CompletelyWARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR "THE NAME OF THE DOCTOR"!!!!!!!!!!!!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
He leaned against the wall of the TARDIS, arms crossed, head down, and eyes blurring from the tears welling up. He heard the door close and felt all of his friends’ eyes on him. Slowly, he stood up straight, walked over to the controls, and turned the TARDIS engines on.
He typed in Vastra’s address and took them home glad none of them even tried to talk to him.
When they were gone, he felt Clara staring at him. He knew she was shaken from being in his time stream, and she had no idea about why he was so upset; she had no idea that he had lost her, he had lost River. He gripped the handle bar in front of him so tight he started to lose feeling in his fingers. He fought back the lump that was building in his throat. Slowly she walked towards him obviously not sure what to do.
“Doctor?” she finally asked, her voice quiet and soft. “What happened?”
“Just . . .
Doctor Who-Mels's PastSPOILERS FOR "A GOOD MAN GOES TO WAR" AND "LET'S KILL HITLER"!!!!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!!!
“I’ll see you later, Amy,” I tell my best friend as I grab my coat.
“You sure you don’t want to stay?” she asks.
“Yeah, I actually have someplace I need to be.”
“Well let me take you,” Rory offers.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Mels, it’s pouring out there. You’ll catch a cold in that weather!”
“I like a short walk in the rain. I’m not going far, I’ll be fine.”
“Fine, just don’t blame me if you get a cold.”
“Oh believe me, Rory, I’ll blame you completely,” I tease. He glares at me but I can see the smile he’s hiding. “I’ll see you guys later,” I tell them. They walk me to the door and I flip my black hood up on top of my head and run out onto the pavements outside. I run until I hear the door close then I start to slow do
My MusicI love my music.
It's helped me through a lot of emotional crap.
It's helped some of my closest friends through even worse shit.
My music is the "Outcast" music.
It's the "Emo" music.
The "Sad" music.
It's the rock,
You may not like it at all.
A lot of people don't.
But a lot of people love it.
This is the music that saves lives.
The music that stops people from self-harm,
That makes them feel like they belong.
Most of it is not the "Devil Worshiping" music like lots of people think.
Just look at the lyrics of bands like Flyleaf and Black Veil Brides.
If you look close enough, you'll find they are mostly pure.
They are about standing up for yourself, for your beliefs.
About pushing through the hardships in life, about ignoring the haters,
And loving yourself.
So go ahead and hate it if you want.
Just don't say crap about it to me or it's fans.
Because you don't know their stories, or what this music has done for them.
You can like your music.
I can like mine.
Yes, This Is MeI'm a weirdo, an actress.
I'm an Emo/Goth.
I'm an outcast, pretty low on the food chain of society.
Yes, this is me.
I wear black.
I don't like pink.
I would choose anything dark over anything bright.
Yes, this is me.
I support equal rights.
I support parts of gun rights.
I support anti bullying.
Yes, this is me.
I do wear makeup.
No, I don't put on buckets and buckets of it.
I do feel at least a little pretty with it on.
Yes, this is me.
I'm not comfortable in my skin.
I'm extremely self-conscious of my talents.
But slowly I am getting better.
Yes, this is me.
I love rock/screamo/metal music.
I do not like rap or country or pop music.
I'll sing at the top of my lungs to show tunes.
Yes, this is me.
I don't care what you think about me.
If you like me, fine.
If you don't, fine.
Yes, this is me.
I am a girl who is sweet and caring.
A girl who is loving and will put her friends/family before her.
But I am not the smartest, skinniest, or prettiest girl.
Yes, this is me.
Ganith for TanzaniSPOILERS FOR MOST OF THE BOOKS
Ghastly Bespoke walked down the long corridor of the Irish Sanctuary to his office. It had been a long day full of frantic mages, glass shattering, and angry ferrets and he was glad he could finally go home. He grabbed the key to his office out of his pocket and stuck it in the lock. He twisted it and opened the door.
The room was dark like normal. There were no windows, and shadows of the furniture all around. He stepped inside and immediately tensed up. Something wasn’t right. He slowly closed the door and turned on the poor lighting. The overhead light above flickered on. He turned around slowly. He was prepared to fight, prepared to die but he was not prepared to see the person that was in the room with him.
Tanith Low sat on the big oak desk looking at him with her lips twisted into a malevolent smile.
“Hello, Ghastly,” she said softly. Ghastly stared at her. Every night for two years he laid in bed imagining about what the moment h
confession you are all i ever wish,i ever dream
you are all I ever desire,from my passion flames
you can create and start a fire...but will turn you in cold
and my heart is still " in hold"...
I wish you will be still mine,i make mistakes
if you are not by my side...
I could not breath-feeling the past-my heart is on hold
but my love will ever last,and if tomorrow strarts without me...
Can you feel the lost...can you even see?...
with the sadness-I change my mind- that the love i need
I will never fin
PainUnbearable down to the last bone,
This body I don't want to call home,
I am not feeling alright this way,
I am not happy or feeling okay,
I am in pain and always feeling under,
I feel like my body is torn asunder,
So tired, I want to open my eyes,
My muscles feel bound by weights and ties,
So sick, in pain, and tired aside,
I want so badly to erase this I cried,
All I want to do is sleep my days away,
To keep my feelings left at bay,
Not just the mental but the physical state,
This body of mine, I am starting to hate,
The way I feel is becoming a stain,
I feel I will forever be in pain.
AnankeI have come to confess
When I lay in darkness
I can't find any rest
For the pain in my chest
I still see you in chains
The blood boils in my veins
The lust shines in my eyes
Your Hell: my Paradise!
At the end of daylight
When I pray for delight
I watch in the fire
My only desire
All my senses aflame
At the thought of your name
Will soon drive me insane
I must meet you again!
See me down on my knees
I am begging you, please
Let me caress your skin
Taste the pleasure of sin
But your heart is so kind
And so dark is my mind
So cursed is my passion
My own self-destruction
And your eyes...
Tormenting my heart
And your cry...
Tearing me apart
And your voice...
Enchanting my ears
And your words...
Awaking my tears
And your face...
Corrupting my soul
And your fate...
Inciting my fall
My emotions seem all out of order
and it's like I'm on the border
of anger and sadness.
This is pure madness.
I can't control how I feel
when this pain is so real.
I can't seem to shake
the memories that keep me awake
all through the night.
I pray that things will be alright.
Maybe I'm just hormonal,
but this doesn't seem that normal.
I want to be able to smile
and stay joyful for a while.
Trust is also an issue for me;
loyalty seems like something I can't see.
In God I have faith
that my heart is safe
although it's not anywhere near whole
and loneliness is taking its tole.
Yet, despite these emotions,
God's love is wider than all oceans
and I know that one day I can feel love
like God's above.
UntitledVoices whisper softly in her ear,
"Everything will be alright."
Yet, still all she feels is fear
and she can't find the will to fight.
Why should she fight the pain
when life is filled with sorrow,
and it's hard to feel joy again
knowing there is anger for tomorrow.
"Why do I have to suffer so?
And why does peace always flee
from wherever I go
so the reason to live I cannot see?"
Land Of No LightHe cried out in utter pain as the crystals impaled his already weak body. His voice cracked as he was whipped yet again. Cheers and cries arose from the crown in front of him.
"Take Him Away!" They chanted. His cries were now muffled as the tight purple fabric that surrounded his neck was tied in his mouth like a make-shift gag.
(Should I continue?)
Harbor in a StormHe was not what I was expecting.
He is the safe harbor in the storm.
A still rock in an avalanche.
He said hello, it’s nice to meet you—
But not in near so many words.
His smile promised things I would not talk about,
His eyes brimming with old knowledge,
The sort of eyes you read about, but never find in a real face.
To break him, I gave him my game face,
To see those eyes turn away,
Out of my soul.
I gave him my I-don’t-need-anyone act,
My maybe-I’ll-keep-you-maybe-I-wont attitude,
And he stood there, next to me, patiently.
To shake him, I showed him my scars,
To see those eyes brim with pain,
So he can understand the path I’ve walked.
I showed him each one, and recited,
With perfect memory,
Just how each one damaged me.
And he took my hand, tightly, and I knew he had his own.
To surprise him, I showed him my joys,
To see those eyes turn confused,
As to how such pain can create such pleasure.
I showed him my work, and recited,
With perfect memory,
My SaviorsThey aren’t angels,
But they aren’t devils,
They have their drama
And they face their own problems
They go through sorrow,
Sometimes hide in the shadows
They are just humans
Who sometimes stand in what feels like ruins.
They are my friends
And they will be in my heart until the end.
So I thank you
For the people I can look to.
You have been my helpers.
You have been my saviors.
five.Five is the number of times you worry he’s stopped breathing, as the surgeons carve around his heart, twisting away the plaque ridden arteries, and pulling a vein out of his leg. Five is the number of heart wrenching hours you and your family were waiting in the hospital room, worried that your lives would crumble, that there would be five members of the family instead of six, that five days out of the week he would not come home for dinner, that five kisses from him would no longer be given to his wife and four children. Five was the amount of fingernails you bit off while watching people enter and exit the waiting room, and the amount of minutes your mother spent on the phone, explaining that something was wrong. Five is the critical difference between holding a father’s hand as your mother cries into his heart shaped pillow. The difference between rejoicing and smiling weakly because he’s okay or carrying your father’s American-flag-covered-casket and watchin
Keep in Touch!
Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More