.marvel character and actor parent preferences.

Before You Go; C.Evans

-Warnings; SUICIDE ATTEMPT!!! Self Harm, Self- doubt, Depression, swearing, absent parent, Chris is kinda a shitty dad ig (OUT OF CHARACTER AS FUCK)-

I fell by the wayside like everyone else

You had found that the worst part of mental illness, was trying to talk to someone about it. You had tried talking to your dad, but before you could get the most important part of the talk out, he had been back on set and filming for another few weeks. You felt like you couldn't talk to anyone, no one was feeling what you were, how could they understand that? How could they say they know what you're going through when they don't. You were raised by an actor though, so all you had to do was make it look like you were happy and not hurting, you were doing a good job, no one suspected anything, just how you wanted. You didn't exactly want to worry people about your stupid teenage problems, problems that they would tell you to get on with. You knew you didn't matter to them, you never did. You told yourself, that was the reason that your dad was always away because you simply didn't matter to him anymore. You were 16, he only had to wait 2 more years then he could get rid of you. There was a point where you thought things could get better, but it wasn't true. Things got worse.

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, but I was just kidding myself

There were always the nights where you would cry yourself to sleep and wonder why you weren't good enough. Why you weren't good enough to be loved by your own mother, and probably now your father. Convincing yourself that you hated your mother, not for leaving you, but for dumping you with your dad and leaving him to deal with you. But how could you hate her, she was your mom. As hard as you tried, and you tried hard, you just couldn't bring yourself to hate her, and that's what hurt. You were nice, almost too nice. You gave people chance after chance, and they hurt you with every chance you gave them. It was that reason that you had little to no friends, you were almost scared to make them. They would fuck you over, and then make you out to be a bad guy. But could you hate them? No, you didn't have it in you to hate anyone, it made you feel like a failure, you couldn't even hate someone. 

Our every moment, I start to replace

On the occasion that your dad was here, you never saw him much. You would be with him, but you wouldn't speak to him, and him to you. You understood though. He would always be playing with his nieces and nephews, again, you understood. They were young, they were cute. They were perfect, the kind of kids you knew your dad probably wanted. Then he got stuck with you, born from a one night stand and riddled with depression and anxiety. It hurt to watch, the man supposed to be your father act more like a father towards his sister's children than his own daughter. You sat on the couch, watching as he sat on the floor with the two children, explaining the game of football to one, and promising to watch a movie with another later. A movie would have been nice, you could have explained what was going on to him, and you could get the help you wanted, the help you needed. But you couldn't say anything, no matter how hard you wanted to. Depression had you in its vice-like grip, and you couldn't get out. It had you pulled down to deep in the depths of it and keeps you screaming for help and it doesn't matter how loud you scream no one can hear you. Times you had spent with your dad became cherished memories, times when you went to the beach, when he took you to the school dances, they all became sacred. You looked back over to your dad and saw that the two children had been taken up to bed for a nap and that your dad was coming over to sit by you.

"Are you okay, Y/N? You're being suspiciously quiet," He mused. You smiled and shook your head.

"I'm fine, dad. I'm just a little tired," You convinced him. He hummed and nodded.