#i feel like my mental health has gotten even worse over the last few weeks

[seafoamgreen]

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#i've had so much going on between family stuff and my own personal stuff #and i've taken the last few weeks off work which my boss has been super understanding about #every time i think about going back to work i get so so anxious #i feel like my mental health has gotten even worse over the last few weeks #so earlier this evening i sent my boss an email telling him i don't think i'll be able to come back any time soon #and i feel so guilty about it #like he's been so kind to me and idk i just feel like a failure #i'm scared to see what his reply will be tomorrow #like i kind of want to turn off my phone so i don't have to see it #god i just hate everything about my situation rn #i feel so stuck and idk what to do #like i'm trying my best and going to therapy and everything and it's still not enough #ugh #i have a couple appointments this week so maybe things will get a little better soon? idk i guess i can only hope #okay i think that's it for now #did anyone read this? probably not #but i feel better having written it out #shut up j.c. no one cares #depression sucks

[onestepbackwards]

Love That Bites Pt. 6

Hello! Welcome to the next installment of my Dracula x Belmont!Reader series! It’s been a while, but its finally here! Reading so many kind comments really helped me push through writing this 💚

It took forever to get this finished. My health has not been doing well with how the weather has been flip flopping the past few weeks. Going from a drought, to rain and heat on and off was not good for me. The rains backed off a bit, so now its just the humid heat i have to deal with ^-^’

I hope you guys enjoy though! To makeup for it, I made this chapter over 6000 words! If you wish to officially be on the tag list, please let me know!

Summary: After waking up and making a chilling discovery, you make the decision to head back home. You try to get into a routine of things, but slowly, you feel as if your life is crumbling apart. For some reason, your only solace seems to be Dracula’s statue and his castle. Dracula meanwhile observes as you seem to be growing worse for wear, a gnawing feeling of dread growing in his gut with each visit.

CW: Toxic and abusive family, mentions of repeating illness, anxiety, mentions of injury, nihilistic thinking.

Word Count: 6196 Words!

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You weren’t entirely sure when you began to regain consciousness.

All you really knew was how stiff your body had become, and how tired you still were.

That wasn’t completely it, either. You may still have been tired, but for once in your life? You felt rested.

It had been years since you felt like you had gotten any decent sleep. The fact you actually felt rested, even after the odd dreams you had, was quite the achievement.

Speaking of dreams, you tried desperately to cling to what you remembered as you began to wake.

You didn’t remember much, like what you saw. All you could really remember was what you felt.

A strange warmth, and the feeling of being held. Like someone holding you gently, but unwilling to let go. A warmth you so desperately craved to crawl back to.

Faintly, you could also remember a voice. However, you couldn’t remember what was said. All you could make out was that the person, a man, was trying to get your attention.

It was odd. The more you tried to pay attention, the farther the voice seemed to get. At that moment, it was like everything was slipping through your fingers like water.

You wanted more, but alas, you found yourself waking up against your will.

The carpet was the first thing you noticed, besides how stiff you were. It was fluffy under your touch, and still somehow comfortable. Your fingers curled into the light fuzz as you slowly woke.

Face scrunching up, you let out a groan as a flash of light blipped behind your eyelids, followed by a low rumble of thunder.

Rain? Where were you again?

Mentally, you went through everything in your head, when you suddenly remembered exactly where you were.

You almost sat up when your heart rate spiked, but calmed down as you blinked your eyes open.

Considering you were still alive, and still on the carpet in the main hall, you were most likely fine.

“Ugh… how long was I out…?” You mumbled, and pushed yourself up, trying to blink the fog away in your vision.

“Still, that was one of the best naps I’ve had in- HOLY-“

You couldn’t help but shriek as you scrambled back, falling right back on your ass as you scurried away from the statue.

Said statue had moved.

Dracula no longer had been reaching towards the middle of the room.

Instead, he had been reaching out towards you.

His head had been tilted downward towards you as well. The vampire’s head was looking in your direction, facing the ground where you had been laying.

“What the fuck.” You whispered, your heart hammering in your chest. It was as if you couldn’t move, could hardly breath-

How? How had he moved?

Standing up in a mild panic, you made sure to keep your distance as you eyed the statue warily.

Curious, and a bit frightened, you circled the statue, noting the differences while your hand hovered above your whip.

After examining him for a few minutes, you hesitantly relaxed a bit.

It seemed whatever had happened, Dracula was still cursed. He just somehow managed to move slightly while you were sleeping.

That was a thought that sent chills down your spine.

Still, he hadn’t moved since you woke up, so that was a plus.

It was still incredibly freaky though.

Gathering your courage, you inched a little closer to the statue, and got a better look at his face.

It wasn’t such an angry snarl anymore, more like a look of… desperation? You weren’t entirely sure what to call it.

Thankfully, it at least didn’t look angry. You think.

There was also his hand, it was still outstretched, but…

The hand wasn’t tense, with his claws outstretched. It looked more like he was simply reaching toward you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say his body language suggested he wasn’t trying to attack you in your sleep.

Then again… you could be reading too much into it.

Regardless, you couldn’t stop the inkling thoughts that pressed in the back of your mind. As a hunter, you had to be observant, more so than the average person.

Which meant learning body language.

And this just screamed lack of aggression. Interest, but no signs of anger. Not like before.

It… unnerved you. Something that should have at least been a relief, made you incredibly wary.

Why?

Why would he move now? What did you do for him to suddenly do so? Could he move this whole time?

This at least more or less (hopefully) confirmed one thing. He had to be somewhat aware of his surroundings.

You had no idea to what extent he was aware of, but he had to at least be able to see you, given he had been reaching for your sleeping form.

That did raise another question. If he could see, could he hear? Could he feel things through the stone? Could he taste? Smell?

It brought about several questions, and only offered educated guesses at best.

Heaving your chest with a sigh, you pressed a hand against your face, trying to think.

“What am I going to do…?”

At least, a small part of you was somewhat comforted. Chances were, he probably could feel things, not just see things.

If you had attacked him, he would have been forced to watch, and feel as you tried to kill him.

Oh, if that thought didn’t make you feel a little nauseous-

If you had really struck down the statue, he very well could have been hurt, and had been aware and felt it.

Sure, you knew it was a possibility, but actually confronting that thought now that you knew he was somewhat alive? It made your palms feel clammy.

“So… you are alive… I’m… not crazy.” You mumbled at the statue. His face was still turned downward, but if this was true, he was hearing your every word.

Carefully, you lowered yourself to your knees, and looked at his face once more.

He… looked so… intense? Desperate?

You wouldn’t say that outloud, but it also felt odd to refer to him as such. The King of the Night, looking so determined while reaching for you.

Without thinking, you found yourself reaching forward to cup his face. Before you could even make contact, you froze, before pulling your hand away.

No. Bad idea. Why would you do that.

Last thing you needed was showing any affection and getting attached.

That was like a number one rule. Never get attached until you know damn sure whatever you want to get close to won’t hurt you.

With another sigh, you rubbed your temples.

What would you do now? Leave?

It wasn’t like you really had a choice. You had been here for who knows how long, and no doubt you’d have to deal with a pissed off step father the longer you stayed.

But could you just leave him here like this?

You wanted to curse. This was the same damn dilemma you had been dealing with ever since you first saw this stupid castle. You were getting tired of fighting yourself in your head over all of this.

Reluctantly, you stood up, catching yourself as you wobbled a bit on your feet.

“Seems I still have a lot of resting to do…” you mumbled as your vision spun just slightly.

Yeah, you were definitely still a little sick, but you were feeling leagues better than you were a few days ago.

“I… I gotta get home soon.” You muttered, holding your head in one of your hands.

Silently, you looked over at the statue again before turning to leave.

“I’ll… I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

It was weird. Everything was weird. Now that the statue seemingly was noticeably alive, you felt different on how to approach and act around it.

Though maybe you shouldn’t act different?

More and more thoughts swam in your head as you groaned. No, you did not need to do more mental gymnastics.

Carefully, you began to leave the throne room, noting how heavy the atmosphere had become. Depressing? Frustrated? You couldn’t place it, but you certainly related to the feeling.

You didn’t notice the eyes barely managing to tun upward to watch you leave.

As you made your slow descent through the castle, you fought back an ever growing headache as you thought about your situation.

Something that was becoming more common than you’d like to admit.

If Dracula really was somewhat alive, you couldn’t help but sympathize for the guy. It had been a few decades since he had been sealed, around 20 something years.

No doubt he was going mad. You were probably the most interesting thing he has seen in the past decade or two.

Even if you were his enemy.

But… were you? Now that you had not attacked him? He sure didn’t seem like he was trying to attack you in your sleep.

“Ugh. I need another nap.” You mumbled as you walked out of the castle and towards your cabin.

You had a lot of catching up to do.

-

The day after you had gone back to your cabin, you decided to return back home. You dreaded doing so, but unfortunately you had very little choice in the matter.

The messages you received from your ‘family’ were, as usual, annoying and endless. It was only a matter of time before they started destroying your things again for staying away too long.

Thankfully, the stars were shining on you today, as no one was home when you returned. It was easy to sneak a bit of food and hide away in your room.

You wish you could say that they ignore you as usual after they all realized you were back.

Alas, things never seem to go your way.

Your step father had gotten somewhat physical with you again after he arrived home, your two step brothers watching from the doorway.

He had yelled, even gripping your hair and throwing you hard. You hit the edge of the bed frame, but thankfully had dealt with worse.

Though you’d admit, the concussion you had gotten from it was already a pain in the ass.

He wasn’t finished though, and made sure to yell at you some more. At that point though, you simply just let his angry words flow in one ear and out the other.

It ended with a sharp kick to your ribs, which genuinely took you off guard. Your step father never took it this far before outside of ‘training’, and he wasn’t holding back.

Thankfully, he seemed fed up enough with your presence to leave you be. He shoved past his sons, slamming the door behind him as you gasped for air.

You had managed to crawl to your drawers, and take care of the wound on your head. You also decided to count yourself lucky he didn’t seem to break your ribs, just bruise them.

After the pain subsided, you crawled onto your bed, shaking as you thought about everything.

What was your life turning into? Did your step father really not care about crossing that line? It certainly seemed so.

You weren’t looking forward to the future, if this is what was promised.

-

Unfortunately, your fears were turning out to be true when it came to your home life.

Your ‘sweet loving family’ were growing more and more violent, toeing that line with how far they can get away with their behavior until you snapped.

But you couldn’t.

The moment you fought back, was all the excuse they needed to kick you out, and take everything you owned. Everything that was rightfully yours, would fall right into their hands.

The perfect excuse to anyone related to you by blood why the family artifacts were no longer theirs.

Your legacy, your mother’s things, your family’s artifacts… all gone, to someone not even in the family by blood. That alone was dangerous, some artifacts only resonated kindly with your family’s blood.

Hell, your whip was one of those very artifacts. Its one reason you never parted from it, making sure they never had the chance to swipe it from under your nose.

Not to mention the weapons and powerful tomes hidden in the family vault. In the wrong hands? Your step family could rival vampire lords with how dangerous they could become.

What a nuisance.

You knew they would take advantage of it too. It’s the whole reason they were trying to get you to attack them, or ‘give’ them everything by your own free will.

They wanted everything. The power, the artifacts, the riches… they wanted all they could get their hands on. All while looking completely innocent so they’d have an excuse if anyone inquired about it

And it seemed they were willing to raise the stakes to get it.

Despite your step father seemingly growing more physical, he still seemed to prefer to hover and threaten you, rather than just straight up brawl with you.

He seemed irritated. Impatient. He was cracking, but still trying to remain in control.

It made you fear what reaching his breaking point would be. What would finally break the dam that was slowly showing its cracks?

At least when he tried to hurt you, it was brief. Like a warning and a threat.

It wasn’t as… rough as that first night you came back, either. More like purposeful shoves, the occasional hit to your back or stomach. Sometimes your arms. He never hit you again after an initial assault, but the threat was very much there.

If he didn’t hit you, he would slam tables and walls next to you. Slam doors in your face, toss chairs. He even threw some old plates, ruining a set your great grandmother had passed down.

That had been a rough night for you, realizing they were willing to destroy stuff from your family without thought.

Then there were the bouts of sickness you were experiencing.

Just like when you had been at the cabin, you were constantly falling ill.

It was random when it would happen, and the severity of each bout of sickness seemed to vary, but it was beginning to drive you insane.

Sometimes you would just get extreme migraines. Other times you were stuck in the bathroom for days nearly unable to move.

If it was a rough week, you were then banished to the car. No one in the house wanted to catch whatever was making you so violently ill, if by chance it was contagious.

Occasionally one of your brothers would take pity, and toss you some bread or a bottle of water and some gas station medicine. Most of the time though, you were on your own, trying not to puke your guts out for days on end.

It was beginning to affect your overall health. How could you go back to being in a healthy state of being if you were getting sick right after feeling better? How would you be able to keep up being a hunter if you were becoming a liability?

You were beginning to wonder if you were shutting down. The thought made you fear for yourself often when alone with your thoughts.

It was beginning to remind you of your mother, how she had fallen ill…

This made you miserable.

More than once, you ended up silently crying into your pillow in your room. You hadn’t cried in so long, but now it was hard not to after dealing with so much shit.

The one saving grace you had was your laptop, and sneaking away to visit the cabin.

Watching the castle on your cameras late at night brought you solitude, it helped calm your mind when you were overwhelmed. Even if it was just scrubbing through hours of nothing, just watching the castle seemed to put you at an odd sort of ease.

If you weren’t terrified of your step brothers or step father destroying the laptop, or finding out about the castle, you’d probably even use it as white noise to sleep when at home.

An idea you would have laughed at if you told yourself a year earlier.

You? Enjoying the ambience outside Dracula’s castle? You would have attacked whoever told you so, thinking they were trying to mess with your mind.

Now though, it was an odd comfort.

When you did sneak off to the cabin, you would leave the laptop on to listen. The oddly quiet atmosphere with the occasional clap of thunder had you sleeping in minutes.

Something most hunters would scoff at. Most can’t sleep through thunder and lightning, but the atmosphere had put you at ease.

It should bug you how much you were growing comfortable with the Master of the Night and his ominous abode.

But you were beginning to care less and less.

So what if you liked the castle? Liked visiting the Lord of the Night? It’s not like he had moved from his place since you slept on the floor.

The only discernible difference was the occasional movement in his eyes. Something that freaked you out a bit at first whenever you noticed it, whenever it rarely happened.

You and him weren’t hurting anyone, and you were still able to keep an eye on him.

Though your increase in trips were becoming a slight problem.

It was a getaway, and it angered your step family horribly.

You weren’t sure why they cared so much. They always talked about how if you didn’t exist they would have been better off. Surely being out of the house would be a relief.

Yet, whenever you went on a trip and came home, they always seemed angry, and not because you came back. They were angry you left.

It was all getting overwhelming. You felt like you were losing your mind. Why would they care so much, when it was blatantly clear they couldn’t care less about your well being?

The bizarre behavior only served to push you away even more. Why bother with their behavior when you could just vanish for a few days, even if it restarted this stupid cycle?

It only drove it further in your head that you were feeling trapped.

But once again, you at least had your sanctuary. Even if your comfort with the place had shifted so much the past few weeks, it was growing back to what it originally had been.

A sanctuary. A safe place from home.

Your visits with the statue had also changed as a result.

At first, you were hesitant on how to act. Should you be more wary? Closed off?

But when you took a trip back again after that time you had been sick, you decided to just roll with the punches.

He already saw you sick, and sleeping. Did it really matter at this point? As long as you were polite, you didn’t see a reason to behave any differently. He was still technically your host, after all.

If anything, you were more relaxed than ever.

After you had thought about it, the idea that Dracula was aware had somewhat been a weight off your shoulders.

He had already seen you as a mess. You didn’t have to play up any pretenses.

You also found that he was easy to talk to. It wasn’t on purpose, you just started talking on your visits.

At first, it was to fill the awkward silence. You talked about little things that had happened. Some silly hunts you had, and world events that had happened since he had been sealed away.

Though you began to wonder just how close you were getting to your family’s immortal enemy, when you started sleeping on his throne room floor on purpose.

Sometimes you’d find you talked too long, and it was late in the night. You started making the decision to sleep there every so often.

You never slept as close as you did the first time, still wary to a fault.

The statue didn’t move like the first time, though you swore the eyes followed you sometimes when awake. They would be in different places every so often.

You knew they were when you slept. It was… stirring confusing feelings in you, so you tried not to think on it too much.

It would have made you nervous if you hadn’t already spent so much time with him. You just wrote it off as a little quirk.

How fitting. The Statue of the Lord of the Castle, being able to watch your every move like in a cartoon or horror movie. It would be creepy if you didn’t find some odd comfort in it.

You later on ended up even searching your family home a little, curious if you could break the curse yourself.

‘It’s just in case,’ You would tell yourself.

As much as you wanted to deny it though, you knew you were curious. How you wondered if you had a means of breaking the curse, even though your own family placed it on him.

Would you actually do so? Probably not, even if the thought made you a bit sad.

Something you were a bit unsure and uncomfortable about. Were you really that lonely that you briefly thought about what it would be like to talk to him while free?

Yes, yes you were.

But you had a duty to uphold. Setting Dracula free could have so many consequences.

You also didn’t want to misread this.

Just because you felt comfortable at the castle, and in his presence, did not mean there wasn’t a chance he would kill you.

Your family was still his enemy, after all. He technically never agreed to just talk with you after you decided to spare him as a statue.

You didn’t want to get killed, and possibly doom the world over your silly delusions of maybe having a friend in the enemy.

There was something odd though about the whole curse.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t find much on it. You could only sneak into the family vault so often. You didn’t want to risk your family demanding you let them in again, or try and follow you. Again.

Even then, the few times you did manage to sneak into the vault, you didn’t manage to find much. Even when looking at the journals of each Belmont, all you really found was mentions of a spell, and a curse.

The last Belmont to fight Dracula, your grandfather, didn’t mention much about it. How he and his friend had used an old spell they had found to seal the Vampire away.

You found it convenient that you couldn’t find much about what the spell actually was.

By convenient, you actually mean annoying.

What if you needed to seal him away again? Or something went wrong?

Not a lot of planning on your grandfather’s end if he really didn’t leave any information behind.

That wasn’t even the worst of it either.

Apparently, there was a curse of some sort Dracula had placed on your family when your Grandfather had fought him. However, your grandfather refused to mention what it was, or what it entailed. All his journal mentioned was that a curse ‘existed’.

That certainly didn’t ramp up any lingering anxiety. Thanks grandpa.

Briefly, you wondered if this was why he was always so distant with you, and your extended blood related family. Perhaps he thought it would be less effective if no one really knew about it.

You had half a mind to call him and demand what it was, but that would only create a massive beacon towards the fact the enemy he sealed away had been found again after the castle initially disappeared.

It wasn’t worth the risk.

Something that still surprised you to think and say.

Still, the frustration, added along with the stress and sickness you were dealing with, were not mixing well at all. You were this close to tearing your hair out.

But you didn’t.

You held yourself together. You were at least thankful for your hunting experience. Without it, you wouldn’t have been able to keep a steady head in all this for as long as you have.

Still, even now as you warily watch your back just walking to your car for a hunt, you knew one thing was for sure.

Wherever calm resides, chaos is sure to follow.

You wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever.

—

Vlad prided himself on being a man of many things.

He was Lord of the Night, the King of Vampires.

He also considered himself a man of science, a title he wielded, long before he had even turned his back on god.

His prowess with magic was also something he considered himself a master of. He took to magic much like alchemy, though it helped he had centuries to learn and practice all he could.

That, and having the Crimson Stone and Death itself under his thumb was a boon for him. He had little to worry about when he had been young, so he had time to master anything that caught his fancy.

As time passed, and his interest in revenge and humanity had first diminished, he had even taken up other hobbies.

Renaldo, his old friend, may have been an old fool. However, he had been right about one thing.

Eternal life could be incredibly dull.

Vlad took to learning many different things and trades. He excelled as a tactician, so he also took on learning different means of battle and war.

It came in handy when dealing with armies of the damned.

Helping lead an army of crusaders had been one thing, but armies of hell's bloodiest fighters? It had been a whole new experience, one he easily took to.

Though after he had firmly set his place in the underworld, and proven he was far superior to any other vampire, life grew dull once more.

So he collected books. He had always enjoyed them, much to the chagrin of the church when he had been human.

They always said his time was better spent strategizing. If he must read, it was better spent on reports, or looking into ways to counter the enemy.

Vlad had barely gotten a chance to read for enjoyment as a human. When he had been Mathias.

As Dracula, he had all the time in the world. No one dared oppose him, even just to read a book or novel.

He had even taken the time to write and bind his own collection. Something only a select few close to him had known about.

So for all of his achievements, being killed over and over again, and then being turned into stone, was very much a slap to the face.

It was a huge blow to his pride and ego, though he had reluctantly begun to accept he was not on fate’s side when it came to the damned Belmont clan.

Being turned into a statue though? It was one of the lowest blows to him of all time. He would rather be prowling around in purgatory or hell, waiting to eventually be revived against his will, than be stuck as stone for several decades.

But, there was an upside.

You.

Vlad had mentally scoffed when he first saw you. He went through this whole song and dance in his head.

How you no doubt would be the one to free him. How you seemed so pathetic. So weak.

He didn’t find himself thinking such thoughts anymore.

Vlad wondered if he truly was growing to like your presence, or if being stuck in his own personal hell as stone was finally catching up to him.

Had he really gone mad from being stuck like this for so long? To the point he liked a Belmont?

Yes, he was a prideful man indeed, but even he could admit at this point that he was beginning to enjoy and look forward to your visits.

You truly were nothing like the previous Belmonts that had slain him. He really could see Leon in you, when he had assumed the bloodline had changed for the worst.

He liked you.

Would he admit it outloud? Probably not. But to himself in his mind, while stuck here? He didn’t see why he should deny it any longer.

Perhaps humanity still occasionally produced a diamond in the rough.

Vlad yearned for your presence. After those first few times, and he had caught glimpses of your personality and kindness, he craved to see you more.

He did partially blame that on being stuck like this for so long. However, he did genuinely wish to see you.

After he watched you grow ill the first time, is especially when it became difficult to deny he had at least somewhat grown attached after anxiety bubbled in his chest.

When you returned, the relief he felt had even surprised himself.

You had looked bad when you had stumbled out of his castle. It was another instance where he feared the time had come for his curse to take hold.

Yet, you managed to make it back wherever you were residing. You must have, because you came wandering back a few days later.

Your skin had sunken in, and you looked like you hadn’t slept in a week.

He must have been right, assuming you had been sick. Whatever you had must have been rough on you.

Vlad watched as you walked in, apologizing, talking with him for a while. It was even dare he say, cute, how you were still a little skittish. Still instinctively wary of him, but didn’t seem afraid. It was amusing in a way that would have had him teasing you if he could.

He listened as you spoke that visit, before you had gotten comfortable.

When you fell asleep though, he was a bit surprised, but he didn’t blame you. Even though you looked like you had some energy, you still looked like you needed rest.

It was strange.

For the first time in a long time, he felt warm, seeing you curl up close to his feet.

He doubted you fully trusted him, but when was the last time someone had done something so… gentle? Letting their guard down around him without fear, like he was another person?

It had been centuries, at least.

Did you really feel that comfortable? Or at least assured he could not hurt you?

He wouldn’t of course, not without cause.

Vlad watched you curl up, your body going still as your breathing evened out. You were out like a light.

You looked so peaceful sleeping. When you were awake, even when still sick, you were constantly on guard.

Sleeping however, your body relaxed, and you had a small smile on your face. He wondered what your genuine smiles looked like. Were they similar?

Dracula cursed his prison. He cursed your predecessor.

But not you. No, you hadn’t done anything wrong.

He wanted out. Wanted to talk with you. Meet with you formally and personally, not as he was now.

It was as if he felt his undead heart beat in excitement at the thought. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

That nearly made him pause. Just what were you doing to him? How was this grip you had over him growing so strong?

You hadn’t even done anything, except show him some basic kindness and mercy. He should hate you.

But as he has sat here and thought about it, dwelling on it, he finds he has no reason to.

Besides your bloodline, of course, but he didn’t always hate the Belmonts either. That would just be an excuse at this point.

He wanted to talk with you though. That promise you had made, of wanting to talk with him if he was freed… he wanted that. He yearned to be able to speak properly with you, let you know he was listening.

There was something about you. How you talked about your family, how you carried yourself. The way you still gave him respect, despite at one point had been terrified for your life.

You were fascinating. Vlad didn’t care if he was a broken record, but you were one hunter he wanted to learn about.

No doubt you had interesting stories and viewpoints. He’d love to hear them all.

The more he thought of it, the more he desired to be free. To move.

Dracula wanted to move. To talk. To touch.

You laying in front of him only made that urge, that desire, run hotter.

Your body was right there. He could have almost touched you. Feel you. Shake you awake.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Vlad moved.

It should have been impossible. He was well versed in what spell had been used on him, even if it had been modified to contain someone like him. The only thing that should have been able to make him move was blood from you or your family.

Yet, he moved.

Determined, he used this stroke of luck to push forward, bit by bit. He was so close to you, it wasn’t impossible to reach you.

It was tantalizing, and took so much power to keep going.

But he had to reach you. Touch you. Speak with you. It was as if that very desire was allowing him to keep going, to move another inch.

He was so close! Just a little further!

Before he could reach you, and cup your face, your eyes fluttered open.

You mumbled something under your breath, before jumping back in a squawk of surprise.

Had he really moved that close? Was it that noticeable?

It had to have been, with how alert you had appeared. You hardly seemed to believe that he had been able to do so.

But now that you were awake… it had been near impossible to get that same focus he once had. He wanted to curse and yell.

So close.

You kept your distance at first, confused and a bit wary.

After that, you surprised him by seemingly letting your guard down more.

In fact, you were more chatty than normal. It was like you were at ease with him, as if he were a nice acquaintance instead of an enemy.

What had changed? Had he startled you that much?

Or… perhaps by moving, you had a realization? You were acting more like he was in the room with you than before. Had that been a wake up call for you?

Vlad found that he didn’t particularly mind.

He would silently admit he liked it even.

You spoke about anything and everything.

Normally, Vlad could not have cared less over the little lives of humans, only checking in if there were wars or major events in the making.

But he couldn’t help but listen, captivated by anything you spoke about.

Sometimes you spoke about current events. Other times you occasionally talked about your hunts or home life, though he noticed how you held back when speaking about personal things.

He wasn’t blind to how your demeanor changed when you mentioned your home life. Alas, he couldn’t ask more about it given his current state.

It didn’t change how he couldn’t fight the bubbling worry that tried to blossom when you seemed pained when talking about it.

In fact, he was growing rather concerned with each visit at this point as well.

He enjoyed your visits immensely, enjoying hearing you talk, even if it was about darker subjects.

However, after a bit of time, he noticed how your visits were becoming a bit sporadic. Normally, it would be no business of his what your schedule was like.

But Dracula was a smart man. He was well known for his observations and keen eye over the centuries.

Something was wrong.

It wasn’t just the odd air around you when you briefly mentioned your home life, or the odd inconsistency of the visits.

No, what was beginning to concern him was how you came back injured, more often than not.

Or sick. You were rapidly falling ill time and time again. This wasn’t normal. Something was wrong.

He knew you were a hunter and all, but this was getting ridiculous.

You often tried to hide it too, though he had a feeling some of it wasn’t intentional, as if this was practiced. A learned habit.

Even if you tried to hide your injuries, you couldn’t escape his keen eye.

A wobble here, a stumble there. Favoring one arm over the other just ever so slightly.

You didn’t make it easy, but he could still spot those injuries clear as crystal.

It was happening at a higher frequency with every other visit, until you were sick or injured every time you visited the castle.

If Dracula could hum and fidget, he would be.

He didn’t like this, not one bit.

At this rate, as time went on, Vlad couldn’t help but grow weary.

Given his luck and experience, it was only a matter of time until something went wrong

He was sure of it.

#castlevania #Dracula #vlad dracula tepes #dracula x reader #castlevania x reader #castlevania dracula #vlad dracula țepeș #x reader #reader insert #belmont!reader #zed.writes #love that bites #long post

[preciousweirdworld]

Hey guys. I've been on Tumblr for the last almost decade, probably since I was like 11 or 12. I've never actually made a post, only shared others post, but today I’ll be making my first post.

This post is a plea for help. First off, I should introduce myself. My name is Keiranique, but everyone calls me Precious. I was born with a rare deformity known as Fibular Hemimelia. This means that I was born without fibular bones in my legs. I was also born without ligaments in my left leg, so that’s means my left knee dislocates with any little movement I make.

I’ve spent my entire life in pain. I literally can’t walk or stand for more than a few minutes without experiencing excruciating pain and soreness and discomfort. The doctors in my country (The Bahamas) have never been able to provide a concrete treatment plan to straighten my leg, most have given up entirely. My case was too complex for them.

I had to seek help abroad. After years of tirelessly searching, I finally found an Orthopedic surgery center that can help me. The problem is that my surgery cost hundreds of thousands of dollars I simply do not have.

This surgery is a life-changing operation and my life literally depends on it. Because of my limited mobility, I have been left out of so many things. There are so many places and activities that aren’t accessible to me because of my disability.

It hurts so much to always be left behind and out of stuff. I feel so sad and lonely all the time. For years I have struggled with depression and anxiety and suicidal thoughts. Unfortunately, my mental health has only gotten worse over the years.

I started a GoFundMe campaign a few weeks ago, and sadly I’ve only received a few donations (which I am very grateful for). I thought more people would donate to help me, but sadly, that hasn’t been the case.

So guys, I pleading for any donations and help. Even if you are able to donate, it’s okay, you can share this post so that it can reach more people.

I’ll attach a video of me willingly dislocating my leg to validate my claims. I’ll also include a picture of my most recent X-Ray.

Guys, I’m really going through it mentally and physically. I don’t know how much longer I can go like this. This is the most vulnerable I’ve ever been, so please be nice and no negative comments.

Please help in any way you can.

I need all the help I can get.

TRIGGER WARNING

#black women #this is a cry for help #gofundme #fibula #support #viralpost #please share #pls donate #please help #be nice #black girl magic #tw triggers #retweet #retweeetplease

[polyamorouspunk]

🌻

So I don’t talk much about it but I do have a disabled cat. Over the course of like November her fur got REALLY matted, and my mom was finally able to get her hands on a cat brush (it was a process) and so over the course of December into this year I’ve been working on it almost every day just to get those clumps out and I’ve finally gotten them all out and she seems SO much happier. I have to assume it’s from not having matted fur anymore, but she’s so much more active and playful and happy. Her fur is so much more vibrant and soft and fluffy and silky. Overall, though, I think she might be declining still. It really sucks to have adopted her and her sister both as healthy kittens and then watch her just slowly lose her health and still now become worse and worse slowly. She gets monthly shots that don’t make her “better” as much as keep her from getting worse, but sometimes it feels like even that isn’t enough. I’ll be going to Florida in about a week and my mom wants to talk to my grandpa about trying to make like a sling or something (my suggestion) for her to eat in. It’s hard to explain to people what her disability is too. She has trouble supporting her weight on her legs/sitting up but she can still move and use her legs, just not to walk or stand, and she can’t meow either, and the vets are stumped. She’s my mom’s baby, and her sister is my baby, and now we have an outdoor baby who my mom said is gone from the storm outside which kind of irks me because I keep asking if I can take her into my room when it storms really bad like this and my mom’s like no she’s an outdoor cat from the streets she can handle it and it’s like yeah but she shouldn’t have to! I would LIKE to have her in my room for the night to hang out, since my cat doesn’t and her cat certainly doesn’t. I would love to have our other cat sleep with me for a night. But it is what it is. Maybe next time I’ll just do it, which was what I said last time but I didn’t do this time. Other than that I still have Polyam Dog who is doing good, my gecko who is doing good, and my mom’s Guinea pig who is losing some fur it seems but other than that doing good. Over the past few years I’ve been telling myself that when I get to a better place mentally and physically I can “reward” myself for all my hard work (like not killing myself) by getting another bird, and I’m really lucky that right now for the first time in years I’m back on Prozac and it really seems to be working better for me than any of the last medications I’ve been on, but my health still isn’t great, and this year I’ll e starting university and I think that’s going to set me back mentally. This is still much sooner than I expected to be “ready” for that milestone (I was thinking another year at least) but my mom and I also have a “no more pets” rule that I’ve been honoring so it’s hard to kind of know how to balance what I promised myself with what I agreed with my mom since I have no plans of living on my own any time soon which sucks honestly because I really feel “young” (I look a LOT younger than I am, don’t really go out, don’t do “teen” things like drink and smoke and club, etc.) which uh. You know sucks sometimes. Gonna try and work on that too this year.

#punk gets mail #suicide mention

[prettyboi14]

Imma vent for a bit so um, yeah, I'm gonna use this post as my safe space rn 😭

It's hard to describe just how lonely I've been the last few days/weeks/months. Time has been going so so slow yet so fast at the same time. 2 months ago, a whole 2 months ago, the last two or 3 days of August, I lost all of my friends. And I mean, all of them. Even my best friends of 3 years. And a guy who I actually loved, a lot, told me to kill my self. This guy was one who had been with me when I was very much struggling. He helped me through what I assumed was something similar to a panic/anxiety attack, he had similar mental health to me so we bonded a lot over that. So for him to tell me to kill my self, meant a whole lot more then if it would have been anyone else. I think about that everyday and it's been probably 2 months since that happened. I can't get it out of my head. I keep seeing that text message in my head and I genuinely don't know how much longer I can deal with it. I loved all of my friends so much. And I hate that that hate me and that I hurt them. Those friends helped me find myself, they watched me grow up and find myself, and I watched them grow up too. I know friends grow apart, but it still hurts.

Along with that. I haven't told anyone this, because I just haven't. I've wanted to tell my bf but I haven't really spoke to him since it happened and it's not something you would usually say over text. I didn't tell my old ana coach when it happened and I told him actually everything. It happened multiple weeks ago, but I've thought about it pretty much everyday since. To explain, I was at this thing with my mom, it was like outside, and there was booths for like selling stuff and shit. My mom was on one side of the booth thing we were at, and I was at the other, she wasn't really paying attention to me, and I was just like looking at the things at the booth, it was a candle booth. I was standing pretty close to the table as to not like block the way. however, a pretty old guy, like if I had to guess, like 50+, on the heavier side too, walked up behind me, put his hands on my shoulders, and then in my waist/hips, and squeezed them as he slid behind me. But here's the thing, there was plenty of space to walk behind me, like, there was at least like 4+ feet behind me for him to walk. I was super uncomfortable and weirded out when it happened, when I mentioned it to my mom, she just brushed it off, like she usually does, so she doesn't really know what happened, she just knows, someone else grabbed my shoulders as I didn't get much further into saying it before she started talking. The entire day, I was uncomfortable. And It was like I could still feel his hands on my waist and shoulders. It still feels like i can. I thought I'd get over it that day, but clearly I haven't. I keep thinking of it, it keeps like replaying. I keep feeling his hands. I know it's like, nothing, but I hate it. I want to forget it.

This year has been a complete hell hole. I want out.

I'm tired of feeling like I'm constantly trying to dig myself out of the hole yet end up just breaking the tension of the dirt and making more fall. I feel like I'm buried underground in a coffin and I'm just wasting my air and energy banging and yelling for help. I'm tired. As much as I don't want to go on, I know I have to, I can't leave my bf. Plus, I promised myself i wouldn't die a virgin. I've kept that promise this long, I can keep it longer.

I've stopped trying to live though. I don't care about living. Even if I were to try, I still wouldn't be living, or alive. I might not be dead, but that doesn't necessarily make someone alive. I know it's gotten way worse then I probably think it is. I've mentioned it before, but it's gotten to the point where even my mom is worried. And she doesn't notice shit.

I picked up my floor for the first time in 2 months. It didn't make me feel better. It just reminded me of when I had my friends. Last time I had a clean room, I had friends, who I loved. And I was blissfully unaware that my [now ex] bf was a complete difference person and was lying to me.

I want my life back.

I could say a whole lot more, but this is already a lot longer then I planned.

[theflagscene]

Okay so I have a few messages in my inbox as well as comments on AO3 (which I will get to over there since I know not everyone has Tumblr or followers fic writers) and I didn’t want to reply to one or two anon messages explaining things and make that/those person/people feel like I’m like info dumping directly at them because they just happened to ask, that’s not fair. Also I didn’t want to reply to the non anon messages in private for the same reason, cause like, it’s a lot and a couple y’all just asked a simple question, it’s not your fault that the answer isn’t simple.

As for wether I am working on more chapters for Do I Ever Cross Your Mind, or is it abandoned? It is absolutely not abandoned, none of my fics are ever officially abandoned, even if I don’t update it for like months or even years (side eying a unfinished SPN fic I have from 3 years ago)

I am working on the fifth chapter of DIECYM, as well as all of my very late prompt fics and continuations and one shots, etc. Chapter five does take precedence obviously, so that’s the one I try to get the most done on as often as I can, I know waiting for a fic to update sucks, especially if you really enjoy it and I love hearing about people rereading it while they wait, it truly warms my cold lil heart. Also asking about updates never makes me feel pressured, I’ve mentioned this before, so please, never apologize for poking at me about possible updates or sneak peeks, etc.

Now to the info dumping, I’ll be frank and as blunt as possibly. A while ago I suffered a mental breakdown, some shit happened, it sucked and I couldn’t take it. I managed to power through a lot of it, I still wrote a ton, I actually wrote the first four chapters of DIECYM mid breakdown. Things have gotten worse recently, I am under psychiatric care and my support system is, I’d say pretty damn decent. Right now we’re just working on keeping me at home and out of the hospital, which is proving to be a difficult thing because to be completely honest, I’m not always this cognizant. I have a history of dangerous behaviour that we’re not looking for a repeat performance of tbh. And while all this is going on, I’m also looking for new housing as well as dealing with an chronically ill dog that needs to see a new veterinarian because her last one moved and I do not have the means to pay for that. It’s gonna cost me 100 dollars for the visit, 400 for the bloodwork and 180 for her medication. So nearly 700 dollars is needed for me to keep my dog well and that is basically my entire monthly income, I already use the food banks near me every couple of weeks to try and supplement the lack of groceries I’m able to obtain, but being a vegan, they don’t exactly have much that I can use. Which I know isn’t their fault, they help how they can with what they can and I’m grateful for their help every single day.

So between my dwindling mental health, heavy medication, housing stress, food shortage, money issues and an sick dog, I’ve been writing at a snail’s pace. I spend most of my days barely able to interact with people, online or irl. I mostly just sit, staring, my mother has more than once checked on me and thought I had just gone fully catatonic. I hadn’t, I can just focus very very deeply, like not even on the same plane of existence kind of deeply lol. Space cadet, that’s me! Point is, I physically can’t make myself write. Like the spirit is willing, but the body is weak. Oh, and I also might have fractured my left arm, so that also doesn’t make typing any easier. Just trying to get this all written out on my phone has been hell. I need to go to the doctor to get my arm scanned but I haven’t left the house in nearly 3 months at this point, so it’s like, yeah, just, ugh, not going great.

But to reiterate, none of my fics are abandoned, they are all going to get finished and are all currently being worked on. It’s just going to be way way slower than you’re used too, someone once commented to me that “the devil works fast but you work faster” lol. Well not anymore, the devil may win this time, my slow and steady tortoise progress will have to do for now 🐢🐢

I hope you can understand 🥰

#just fanfic things #fanfic writing #just writer things #writers block #tw mental breakdown #tw mental health #tw suicide mention #replies #anon replies #DIECYM

[axesilly]

i cant afford therapy so im going to talk about my troubles on here because i dont know what else to do 👍 i dont know if this will reach anyone but it might make me feel better. sorry if its a bit lengthy, ive had these feelings for a while

for the sake of anonymity and my own safety i will not be mentioning any names of people, towns, or schools :]

so im in college, im an art major. im from a small town with nothing to do except go to a mall the next town over and im going to college in another small town 5 hours away from home. this small town also has jack shit to do unless you drive 45 minute to an hour away. im currently in my spring semester of my freshman year and i have gotten so absolutely mentally and physically drained since i got a fast food job. i got a job making pizzas at yknow one of those big chain corporations pizza places, and the store i work at has only been open a few months. its absolutely chaotic and no one knows how to do anything except a few select people. my boss, the general manager, also doesnt know how to do anything because its his first time doing something like this. one of the other managers also only works there because hes friends with the general manager and he is not the greatest person, as he tends to sexually harrass the staff including a friend i made there. now ive already put in my two weeks last saturday, but that doesnt take away from how drained this job has made me.

Since the spring semester started ive been constantly piled with work (one week i was scheduled 6 days in a row when i had a big project to work on, i had a breakdown at work to my general manager), writing assignments, and project after project. (not even kidding my drawing professor gives us a new project the same day we turn one in) in my senior year of high school i loved fine arts and i believed that i wanted to follow in my art teachers footsteps and pursue my love of art and make art for my career. and while i do still love fine arts and making art, i just cannot do this constantly. since just before my spring break i started not going to my classes as consistently and i swore to myself i would start going again after the break. well that break just made it worse it seems because everything has just gone more and more downhill. i have still been missing classes because some days its difficult to get out of bed and i do not have the motivation to go to class just to sit there and not be able to pay attention for an hour/hour and a half. im behind on a project for one of my classes because i havent gone since ive been back from spring break (two weeks). i have an exam for one of my classes soon and im not even close to prepared. i had a 3 page essay due last night i started but havent finished (luckily i can turn it in a little late). it may sound lazy but these are my real struggles with my mental health. i feel trapped here. i do have a license and a car, i do have transportation so i can go places, but its such an old car it has so many problems (one which has arisen recently being if i stop somewhere and turn my car off, it wont crank back up immediately and i have to wait 10-15 minutes, and once it is on i have to revv it to make sure it stays on). so because of car problems and currently living in a small town im frustrated because it feels like i cant go anywhere to do anything fun. i feel trapped in my dorm and in my mind.

now comes the college problem. the college i go to currently is a nice school, i get 8 meals a week on my meal plan included in my tuition. theres several places to choose from the eat at, theres a gym, free health exams i think. but its driving me insane seeing the same old brick buildings every damn day. i currently dont have a roommate so im in a dorm by myself which probably contributes to this feeling of lonliness. i dont really have many friends, i had more last semester but they did not keep in touch. i do have one friend that i appreciate very much and she always worries and wants to help when she sees im upset. shes a real one. but seeing the same things, learning about the same repetitive lessons every single day, has driven me insane. my art history class has been the same topics since the start of the semester, its all been about works of art pertaining to jesus, and mary, and god and the angel telling mary shes pregnant and marys purity and this symbolizing that and i understand why its important to learn about these works of art and how they have shaped art today, but i cannot stand hearing the same things over and over. im not a christian, and i dont believe theres anything wrong with christianity as long as youre not hurting anyone with your beliefs, but these topics are so repetitive ever class i have. the semesters almost over and we havent even gotten to modern art yet, and in my opinion thats what truly matters to learn about because thats what we as artists would need to look at to have a reference for how we should make our art right? art is about expressing yourself and we need to see how others making art in the modern era are expressing themselves as well. and on the topic of expressing ourselves, my drawing class, every single project, my professor has us stick to such strict criteria. one of my projects my professor actually really liked, i liked, but she took points off because i had my girlfriends name written very small where you could barely even see, because we were not supposed to have any text. i feel like i cannot even be creative and truly express myself with these projects. i dont feel like i have any real freedom with them. i love fine arts and i love making art, but not when its like this. i want to be able to make my own art that actually expresses my feelings, not someone elses criteria. because of all of this my grades have been rapidly dropping.

now i have already made the decision weeks ago that i will not be returning to this school in the next fall semester. i discussed this with my mom already as she does the majority of my paperwork and things for this stuff. she wants me to transfer to a college closer to home so i can atleast get a general studies degree. but thats not what i want to do either. she told me not to flunk my classes this semester because that will make it difficult to transfer me to another school, but how do you expect me to get good grades when i constantly feel like im in hell in my mind. i mentioned wanting to maybe take a gap year, she doesnt want me to do that. school is horrible for my mental health like this, i dont understand why society thinks we should just have everything we want to do with the rest of our life figured out immediately out of high school. well i dont. and i dont want to stay in college immediately out of high school. i want to go live my life! me and my girlfriend are long distance (we have met in person several times and shes actually coming to visit me this month, but just seeing each other for a week at a time is not enough) and i really want to go live with her! i want to enjoy living and living with the person i love more than life itself! i currently dont feel like i can do that here or back home. i want to move somewhere else with my girlfriend so we can both be happy and love life. i want to move out of state to a slightly bigger city, nothing crazy like new york or atlanta, but just somewhere bigger than a small town with nothing to do whatsoever. i do have a place in mind but im not going to say where. and when i move, after a year i can qualify for in state tuition and pursue something that makes me happier. ive always loved animals and marine animals so i was thinking i could major in zoology and marine biology and work at an aquarium or something while im working on my degree. and i dont fully know how the paperwork and things work for transferring and such, especially after a break, so i could be in the wrong, but is it really wrong for wanting the best for myself?

and to be honest with myself i know exactly why im in college and its not to get a degree. i was raised constantly being compared to my siblings. my brother is trans (which my parents are very obviously not too fond of) dropped out of college and joined the military. my sister dropped out of college after a semester, got married to a horrible man who she just recently divorced after having two children with him. and being compared to them all my life, especially to my brother, made me want to be better than them. i wanted to be the one, as the youngest, to be the first one to get through college immediately, all four years, no problem. but its just too much for me. and dropping out, moving away, im terrified. im terrified that my parents will be disappointed in me. im terrified of that face my mother makes, that tone of voice, when shes disappointed in me for something. im terrified of getting lectured and told why everything i want is wrong. its irrational. and im terified if i move away i wont have her support anymore. i wont have her to lean on when i need help with something. i was never taught where to go or how to do stuff for applying to colleges and transferring. i barely know how to do my taxes.

now i really dont know what this article-like rant of a tumblr post is gonna do. i know i dont really have a following and i dont really post on here. but i just thought itd make me feel better to collect my thoughts and put them all together like this. so far the only people concerned about me have been my girlfriend and a couple of my friends ive told about these problems. not even my professors are concerned about me, i havent even gotten a single email or question about how im doing. they say theyre all for mental health but when a student stops coming to class as often suddenly and starts failing or not turning in assignments its none of their business and i must just be getting lazy and im a horrible student yknow? anyways i think thats about it for this. again i dont really know what this will do but i hope someone has advice or support or something. im going insane here.

love to anyone else suffering similar struggles <3

#college #mental health

[cafalla]

Diary Entry - 02/28/2024

Last week, my sweet old man of a kitty jumped face first into a standing fan and practically knocked out one of his front teeth. He had to spend the last week with a tooth awkwardly sticking out of his face, and then today he went into surgery and had all of his teeth removed.

Granted, he has needed to have his teeth removed for quite a few months now. Him messing up his front tooth just made me realize I needed to get a move on with his dental procedure.

Sadly, his previous owners before I adopted him did not take good care of his teeth, and they've only gotten worse over the years despite trying to help him with brushing, water additives, dental treats, etc.

I knew he'd eventually need all of his teeth out - the damage was too far gone. But I hesitated because I felt so guilty for taking away his teeth.

Part of me felt he would rather have teeth, even if they were bad. I thought about it in the same terms of how declawing can harm a cat's mental health - I feared the same would be true if I took away his teeth. I love this little guy more than anything, and I would never want to harm him or make him feel insecure. But I know ultimately his quality of life is going to improve now that he doesn't have decaying teeth in his mouth.

He is resting and recovering. I hope he heals quickly and truly feels better after this surgery. Ugh.

----

I also had a podiatrist appointment, and basically have now lost all hope for having a normal large toenail. I damaged it pretty badly many years ago. I've had it removed and have gone through many treatments to promote nail growth.

My nail just doesn't grow normally, and was told today that basically my only options at this point are to file it myself/go in and have it filed by a podiatrist when needed, or go through a procedure to permanently have the nail removed so it will not grow back.

Basically, during the time my nail was damaged/removed, my nail bed healed over. So now a growing nail will not attach to about the top half of my nailbed. So my nail grows slowly and is attached to my toe at the bottom half, but can't attach to the top half, so it grows in an odd dome-like shape over the part it can't attach to.

And because it is damaged, my nail grows in layers and builds up, making it thick. Which needs to be filed down to keep it from being this huge rock on my toe lol.

It's hideous, but ultimately nothing can be done about it. I'm sad because I've been holding out hope that one day my nail will go back to normal, and that's just never going to happen.

I guess there are fake nails that can be applied, but I'm uncertain since I'm not a person who ever uses fake nails or gets my nails done at all. And the thought of just having NO nail whatsoever forever makes me feel weird. So I guess I'll continue to file it...but idk.

It's an insecurity of mine, and I'm just saddened to know I can't hope for my nail to go back to normal.

I guess I should be happy I at least have all my teeth, since my poor kitty friend has none. A toenail, in the grand scheme of things, is no big deal, and people tons of people have toenail problems that are way worse than mine.

Still, it sucks. I'd love to just wear a pair of sandals or walk barefoot one day without feeling insecure. As I get older, I am loosening up a bit, but it is going to take me some more time to get used to the toenail thing...ugh.

----

Things have been a bit rough, but I'm hopeful March will be better!

#txt #diary entry

[jadedlavender]

So, I’m not agnostic anymore. You can call me a liar or say that I don’t know who I am but in all reality, it’s YOU that doesn’t know who I am. I, knowing myself, accept that I don’t have my mind made up about every aspect of the universe and what makes it up and what’s truth and what’s not, but I can accept that things change. Just because I’m not the same person I was even six months ago, does not mean I don’t know who I am or that I’ve lied. It simply means that I’ve decided on the feeling that I no longer feel alone.

Back when I was first going through my divorce, I couldn’t believe all that had happened. I was lost and angry. My life feels like it has just been a series of big trauma after big trauma and I have the PTSD diagnosis to prove that. I was overwhelmed and depressed and I remember being at my wits end and one last thing went wrong and it pushed me right over. I remember walking into my parents house and telling my mom that the God she believed in didn’t exist. That nothing did. That there was no one out there who gave any kind of shit about any of us with tears rolling down my cheeks at the defeat of it all. And in that moment, I truly believed it. It was such a low feeling but somehow saying those words out loud was like physically hitting a brick wall. And it knocked the fucking wind out of me. It brought me to a place even lower than I had previously felt. That was the bottom of the bottom and for the first time in all of my life I actually felt alone.

I think it’s pretty weird considering all the things I’ve done and seen. The trauma, the ugliness, and pure evil in this world and somehow I still never quite felt really alone. But this was different. I finally felt the detach. Like those words were the scissors that cut that tie. An emptiness and hopelessness I can’t even describe was on the other side of those words and saying them made it true. After a few weeks of desperation at the newness of my feelings and wanting no part of them, I asked God where he was. I asked him how if he cared for me at all how is was that my life had turned into this.

I instantly was flooded with this knowing of the fact that I have free will. Everything that I had done had been my own choice and everything that I had gone through were consequences of those choices. But I swear on everything, like a movie in my minds eye, played out every dangerous scenario that had happened to me or that I had been involved in within the last 15 years and and the ending to each one where I had gotten out. I had escaped. Someone came to help in the nick of time. In every awful situation, I could still somehow look back and miraculously say, “It could have been worse.”

As soon as the sequence of events played out in my mind and that epiphany came to light, I instantly heard a voice in my consciousness say. “I’ve been with you the whole time, and I’ve been protecting you.”

And no I don’t mean I heard a voice out loud speaking to me. Please don’t go there. Last time I checked, I don’t hallucinate (at least sober mindedly 😝) so this is not a mental health crisis emerging. But literally my own consciousness spoke to me and let me know exactly what I had just asked of God to answer for me. The realization hit me just as hard as the ton of bricks as the previous words that I had spoken had, only having the reverse effect. And suddenly I just knew. And that feeling of emptiness and hopelessness vanished. I no longer felt alone. I felt protected, and guided.

I know in my heart and in my soul that God is real and he has been my helper and strength this entire time. Weather or not I ever realized it. It took many heartbreaks and worlds crashing down for me to come back to a place where the influence is all around me, and maybe it was all for a purpose. I still don’t jive with organized religion because that’s when I think it becomes dangerous. Less about the relationship and more about the rules. Like any relationship, there shouldn’t be “rules”. There should be enough respect to do and not do certain things to show somebody that you love and care for them and I feel like that’s how it should be with God as well.

I don’t have it all completely worked out. I still don’t love the things I read in the Bible or agree with a lot of it and I still have feelings on past lives and reincarnation. No one will ever completely know the truth, but one thing I know is that all the things I’ve seen and places I’ve been, I should probably be dead or at least have had a lot worse happen to me and it didn’t. Somehow. It didn’t. And I know that when I stop praying, I feel alone and when I do pray, I don’t. I have tried going a day without speaking to my father and I found it nearly impossible. I lean on him every second. And he answered me. Always.

So judge me. Consider me gross, uncool. I don’t give a fuck because you’ll be the only one judging. Just because someone believes in God does not mean it is their right or place to judge. My only job is to love. Everyone. Like I have been loved by HIM.

[wallabywannabe]

The only thing hugely different this week was my annual GYN visit. Which doesn't sound like much, but this year I was due for my pap smear, which I have been dreading for the past 3 years since my last one.

They're really painful for me. Don't know why. There's no medical reason for it. No history of trauma. It's not the MOST painful thing I've ever experienced, but somehow it's the scariest. Kidney stones are the most painful, but I recognize that feeling and it's a blinding kind of pain that leaves no room for other emotions. Pain from a speculum, though, feels very wrong, and there's plenty of mental capacity for panic.

I'm so ashamed of that, too, which is another big emotion that comes with it. I'm very pro modern, researched-backed medicine, which is why I think preventative procedures like pap smears are so very important. My dad's a freaking gynecologist, for crying out loud. I should be more comfortable with this stuff than anyone! But I'm not and I feel like a huge hypocrite.

So all that's going through my mind, and then this summer, I did an outpatient hospitalization program for mental health where I got a lot of practice FEELING my anxiety instead of ignoring it, which is something I hadn't realized I was doing. Previously I'd actually gotten very good at pushing anxiety very deep, which was useful for pushing through the day, but I think doing that EVERY day is exhausting to the point where I'd just completely collapse every few months. Anyway, I'm digressing a bit.

So it's been a few months since that program, and I have fallen back into old habits a bit, but I think the pap smear anxiety was too intense to ignore like normal. I do manage to mostly ignore it until I'm in the exam room and I'm...waiting.

I'm waiting and waiting, and I start to feel it all bubbling up in my chest. I distract myself by reading all the flyers in the room. I try to memorize the anatomy posters on the walls. I do deep breathing. I do wall squats and jumping jacks. I pace. I sit down. I examine the patterns on my gown. I look up french poetry and recite it out loud. And in between trying all of these strategies, I feel the anxiety rising up again and I fight back the urge to burst into tears.

Finally the exam happens, I tell the doctor I'm nervous, and she's really great. She tries to distract me with small talk, but when the pain starts I'm having a full blown anxiety attack and instead she has me count outloud to 30. She's done by the time I reach 15. She explains to me exactly how my cervix is shaped and what she was doing at each point when I started to feel pain, which helps demystify some of it.

I'm a bit embarrassed but mostly kind of frustrated with myself. This is the biggest physical reaction I've had to a pelvic exam before. Shouldn't I have gotten better over time, not worse?

But with a few day's distance, I'm starting to think it really was me being more in touch with myself emotionally than I have been in the past. The tears and hyperventilating are awkward side effects for me and it would be more convenient if I could have emotional breakthroughs that were slightly less obvious, but that's clearly not how I am.

I was wondering if I'd regressed emotionally, but after that happened, and then a few days later I feel like THIS? Normal, doing normal every day things without it being difficult? That must be progress. Even if it only lasts for 1 day, it's still progress. And it means changes for the better are possible.

[antimony-ore]

It should be illegal to make me work to support myself, I am differently abled.

As it turns out my autism has not gotten worse my mental health has, like alarmingly, I've been saying that to people I thought would help me for a while and it's now past a manageable point for me. I needed help when I asked for it, now I feel I'm too off to keep helping myself (not like I've given up, I'm trying really hard and failing)

I have no one who can (loves me enough) to help me when I can't help myself and am only asking to be helped because I can't do it alone, and have been trying my whole life to keep myself small quiet and convenient so I can get help when I need it and no one cares about any amount of personal struggle I go through in just a regular social setting, let alone work.

Now I've been saying since highschool (already clinically depressed from being bullied, undiagnosed with autism, and unmedicated for ADHD) but the 8 hour day takes all the joy out of my life because my brain only functions properly for a few hours before holding my focus (which despite the ADHD I am very good at) becomes a detriment to my health (2 jobs ago I started to develop heart problems from the stress of a very basic job that I even thought enjoyed).

Another contributing factor is my home life, I don't get to reset, I know. But I don't need an explaination why I deserve this I need to be heard and I REALLY NEED HELP.

My mom giving me enough money to cover the bills and that it. She agreed to help me and really is doing the bare minimum and complaining about money so I'm not getting any health checks or caring. She just wants me to have another job or a plan and if she wanted that she should have helped before the situation affected me to the level it has or checked in before my mental health became a detriment to me.

I have pets that need to eat and need to eat, she's not giving me money to live and wondering why I'm getting worse. Bills don't keep me alive.

My point is I was hospitalized twice last year for conditions caused by not eating and drinking right when I'm stressed and I had a job then.

My mom is making me ask for everything STILL even though I have asked her to just help me because I am bad at asking over and over and just stop. I have gone almost as week without eating here and there and actually had sex for money now as a result just to eat.

I'm past needing help, I'm really scared and confused why my family is so shitty to me and I'm not allowed to say it. Being an autistic adult is hard, finding work when I'm so depressed rn and stressed out is IMPOSSIBLE, and I'm not cut out to be a sex worker; nor do I understand why my mom would want that for me in lieu of just calling me regularly once, without me having to initiate, when I've literally requested health checks.

#I know how to ask for help when I need it #I just don't get any when I ask #I think that working is harder for me because of my disability in a way that makes some jobs unsustainable #and if I like the job my coworkers don't like me because I'm 'antisocial' (trying my darndest to stsy focused without meds or seratonin) #I just deserve to make more because I am a good worker despite it being more difficult to work with others #or to not have a job #why do we make the disabled work it's fucked up? #like everyone's value is their ability to work #that why I've been getting up and going to bed trying to not take up space and nothing else #because no one loves me and I have no value because working kills me faster #I hate hate hate being autistic in the family I was born into

[posititties]

last week i've spent some time with my friends and we talked about stupid stuff but i also opened a little up about the things that happened last month. well, i didn't exactly tell them that i've been struggling with suicidal thoughts and that i impulsively took pills and that i harmed myself with a knife but i told them that things have gotten worse and that i'm scared of what might happen the next time i experience these low feelings. i did not say everything i wanted to because asking for help and being honest about the things i struggle with will always be difficult for me i guess and i do not want to scare them, but it went better than i expected and their reactions gave me a lot of comfort and stability about where i currently stand in their lives.

i always feel like opening up will scare people away or drain them to the point they decide to cut ties. even though i 100% know that one of them will stick around for the rest of my life, i still get that little voice in my head telling me that the other friend will see through me one day and decide that our friendship isn't worth it. but last week i've tried to test the waters and open up a little more about the way i am, the things i've discussed with my other friend about my mental health and the possibility of me having bipolar disorder and/or borderline personality disorder (or cptsd with traits that look like bipolar/bpd, which i've already been diagnosed with in the past). his reaction was everything i needed honestly, he didn't ask too much, i did not feel like i had to go in detail and most important of all, i did not feel like he wanted to distance himself from me after hearing this.

it's been a few days now and the suicidal thoughts are still very present, they're just not that active and loud. it's more wishing for death than actively trying to make plans or telling myself that everything will be okay once i'm dead and that the world is better off without me. the thoughts are just there, kinda flowing through my mind, i guess. and besides that, the whole situation with my family isn't really helping. i'm just trying to focus on other things, talking a little more with the new girls i met at the harry styles concert, redoing and cleaning my whole room whenever the thoughts get louder, focusing on the homework i got and generally just taking care of myself.

at the moment i'm very discouraged about where i am in life. part of me really wants to give up because i feel like i will never get better, but part of me wants to try my best to make the best out of the situation - even if i will never be 100% happy and healthy in my mind. i know that it will never get better, or at least, the way i want to get better, because i might be born with it and the things life has thrown at me have left too much of an impact to be able to live a life like others that have not dealt with these things. but on the other hand, i have two amazing friends - one of them i've known since high school and the other one since uni. i had never expected that i would find connections like this, that i would find people that are not only good for me, but people that actually want me in their life and want to talk with me, spend time with me and just want to be my friend even though there's always some shit going on with me. i really want to be better for them, i really want to try my best to get as healthy as possible and to heal myself as much as possible, so i can be their friend for a long time. it's quite hard because at the moment my thoughts are scattered all over the place - hence why this whole blog post is so messy - and i really don't know where to begin. i'm so scared of not being able to get better, i'm so scared of my mental health getting worse to the point where it's draining to them but i really want to try my best to not let that happen. i just want to be better, not for me, but because i want to do something back for them.

#fuck i'm crying again #i love my friends so much and i value them so much #they don't even know #and i don't want them to know #because i don't want them to feel like i'm dependent on them yk #but i put every sharp thing away in a box under by bed #because having it out of sight will give me extra time to think before i act whenever i want to harm myself #and i also threw a shit ton of painkillers and other pills in the trash can #also been researching some other methods to cope with wanting to feel pain #like using ice cubes or eating something very sour and bitter

[chasing-rabbits]

It’s so warm. It was nice out earlier in the living room at least the bedroom was ridiculously warm but the living room is a lot bigger and I think that helps. But now it’s gotten too warm even in here the thermostat has been reading 27 degrees Celsius day and night for the past few days at least. If it gets above 30 again like last year I am gonna die. Our houses are not built for this kind of weather. Anyways I am having a good day and I’ve been trying really hard to keep on top of my mental health and be as proactive as possible about using the coping mechanisms I’ve got available to me before I get really bad. So far so good so we’ll see. I am planning to do some more stuff with my Ko-Fi. I’d like to try bring in a bit more money because we over spent a little this month and whilst we are all good money wise like we get our benefits in like a week from now and I always keep an extra reserve in our current account for occasions like this plus we do have savings. But I want to try and earn the money to cover some of our upcoming vet bills. We have the money I wouldn’t consider getting a second cat if we couldn’t afford it but it’s a goal for me to aim for and it avoids us potentially having to dip into our savings for the upfront costs for shots and I still need to get Bagel neutered along with the new kitten. I also like having goals because it helps motivate me and I do really want to start trying to generate an income for myself, because I feel like things are only going to get worse in terms of cost of living crisis. They keep saying things should get better but so far every time they’ve predicted it would, things got worse like interest rates I hear they’ve gone up AGAIN. Supposedly meant to go down by the end of this year but I highly doubt that. Anyways that’s going off on a tangent. But basically good day today and I hope to keep it that way.

#erin talks #erin rambles #prsnl #motivated #small business #Kofi #kofi store #kofi shop

[dndfanfiction]

Her shift ended two hours ago, but Valerie is still awake, sitting outside the Art Institute waiting for the doors to unlock. Thankfully, her museum membership means to online ticketing is required; a blessing, as she still hasn't figured out the internet, despite being present for its advent. A few minutes pass in calm silence, and she watches a museum guard come out to open the door, waving at her from her spot sitting in front of the left lion. The routine continues as they both keep their silence. Her membership card is also scanned silently; the same person has worked the front desk of the museum for three years. Elanor and Valerie have a careful dance of not speaking. They may even think she's mute, at this point.

Looking up the grand staircase from the bottom, Valerie takes a moment to think about the weddings held her. Thinks about her wedding on the comet, then leaves that thought behind. Today is not for those still living, after all. Her shoes echo on the white marble, not a fault of the soles but rather of her step. She puts a hand on the banister and climbs. At the top, to the left, and into the furthest corner gallery, she takes a lap before sitting on the ground in front of the painting she makes her weekly pilgrimage to see.

Decades ago, when the painting moved museums and she followed it to America, Valerie sat on the plane and wondered how the new plaque would read. Now, the black text on a small white rectangle is embedded on the back of her skull. Valkyries Riding into Battle, Johann Gustav Sandberg, Oil on Canvas, Circa 1818. None of the women on horseback look like her sisters. Brunhilde does not stare back at her from the collection of pigments. None of them are winged, and their armor is woefully wrong. Though Odin and Thor visited this planet in its infancy, art makes it clear Valkyries never made it out this far in the reaches of the universe. Guiding souls back home kept them busy, and they found better planets to spend their leave on then Earth. Still, this is the closets thing she has to a memento. Her sword and this painting, one hidden by magic and the other hanging on the wall in Gallery 220. "The dragon I told you about, Lgbt, is assembling a team. Says there seem to be stirrings, wants me to put back on the mantle. I told him I would." Valerie still isn't sure why she said yes. Earth was her life, now. She called Rockseau once a week, twice if one of them had been particularly stressed. Sometimes, she saw Sasha on the streets of Chicago, either planning a murder or influencing the world in the shadows. Klaus still asked her to come to the bar, and they would reminisce about their time in East Germany, the creative ways they found to sneak people over the border. If she was unlucky, a man in a bar would push a little to hard for a stranger to come home with him, and Val would cave in his skull and revivify him before the ambulance showed up. The doors of the ER kept spinning. Most of the time, if she was their nurse, they lived. Working with Lgbt again would ruin that. Off planet for weeks at a time was no way to keep a job. Could her mental health afford to lose the one thing keeping her grounded? "You would have approved, Brunhilde. Hildr would think this was all foolish, but only if a good battle wasn't fought from it. "Maybe I'm just trying to shirk responsibility. Last living Valkyrie, it just feels like my job is to keep living until we can all be together again. But you're all ash and I'm a slowly decaying form, seventy years overdue for a new vessel. I'm worried this body isn't strong enough to handle a fight." Over the last eighty years, since the birth of Douillet, her bone density has kept a constant, slow rate of decay. Slowly, she's gotten shorter. Only Lgbt has noticed; if she set foot on the comic, Rockseau would know that she's getting worse. Her one promise was to live long enough that Douillet could decide if she wanted her mother in her life; following Lgbt put that promise at risk. "None of your would recognize me, now. To even think about running from a battle. How irresponsible of someone with my strength. We took an oath, after all. What good was it, if I don't follow it? I'm the only one left to uphold it." After a moment of silent contemplation, Valerie knows her decision is made. Was there ever a choice, really? Even now, her hands itch to wield her sword, her shoulders brace for her pauldrons. Her body was designed for the battlefield. But first, she had to video call her therapist back on the comet. After an hour of crying, Cubert would climb out of the wall and she'd ask if he'd eaten any good rats, lately. Her routine of grief would end and life would return to its usual rhythm. This was all just part of the process.

--

All of our character's bosses is a dragon named Lgbt Q. Dragon. He's the ultimate ally and also likely a personification of straight savior complex, housing the unhoused gay community since he came to Earth. Cubert is a Gelatinous Cube that lives in his walls and Val is one of like three people who understands what he's saying. I love this dumb campaign so much.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #paladin #dnd campaign #dnd stuff #no seriously i have extensive playlists for so many of these characters #ask me about my val playlist PLEASE

[fluffy-critter]

#crosspost #busybee

[imjusttpeachy]

bumpy roads & broken promises. (c.h.)

EDIT: Lmaoooo I did not expect this to actually get notes, thanks guys! I already made it onto someone’s fic recs-- I feel special. Actually might end up writing more if this gets more attention. :^)

I wrote this as a vent/comfort fic for myself but figured others might like it. Corpse has been my new safety youtuber ever since the old nosleep reader--deep voice/no face gamer went to shit so... yeah. 

Heavily inspired by @mmonamona ‘s fic “Petty Fights and Lonely Nights” just more angst. 

playlist

feng suave - sink into the floor

current joys - a different age

feng suave - venus flytrap

rei ami - do it right

summary: Corpse gets frustrated with work and snaps at the reader when she tries to ask what’s wrong, triggering a bad memory from a past relationship. 

word count: 2, 932

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns used, coarse language, shouting, panic attacks, reference to past relationship trauma (no retelling, nothing detailed)

(angst, hurt/comfort, crying! lots of it)

>>>

“God would you just fuck off already?!”

Frozen. Your body tensed up as the deep growl echoed through the cramped dark room.

You had been staying at your boyfriend’s apartment for about a week while you were on break from college. Flying out from the UK to California so you could spend as much time as you could with him before ultimately having to return to 5am facetimes while drowning in papers and essays.

Even before you’d booked the tickets, Corpse was already apologizing for everything under the sun. The size of his apartment and its cleanliness, the fact that he couldn’t do much more than order take out for you, his irregular sleeping patterns.. the list could go on and on. And while you assured him every time that you didn’t care, that you were coming to see him— not his apartment, not home cooked meals, and definitely not to scrutinize him for things he couldn’t control due to his mental health. But he wouldn’t buy it.

Not one bit.

He’d offer you a weary half-smile, pulling you into his chest or ruffling your hair before placing a soft kiss on your temple and changing the subject. You didn’t press any further knowing how often he was at war with his own mind and couldn’t help but think the worse of every situation.

As the days carried on, you’d spent most of your time tangled up in each other. Whether it be a movie, or playing some co-op games, or even just laying in his bed with him, you could barely stand to spend any time apart. But, of course, you were adults with responsibilities that would tear you from one another eventually. While you did miss his presence every second he wasn’t around, you couldn’t help but try to make his life even better for when he got back and for when you’d eventually have to leave him once again. Now, a week into your stay, his apartment was a good amount tidier than how it’d been when you arrived. The cupboards and fridge were stocked with groceries that would hopefully last for some time after you left, on top of the home made meals you’d make together or for him everyday. New picture frames were hung up on the wall of the two of you that you’d gifted to him when you arrived; it actually started to feel like home. Well, as much as it could without those familiar strong arms wrapped around you every second of the day.

Unfortunately, this evening was one of those times. Corpse had already been locked up in his office for a few hours now, the sounds of button mashing and frustrated exclamations making its way through the thin walls every so often bringing an amused smile to your face. He’d woken up a bit anxious already knowing he’d have to both leave you alone and put up a brave front for the stream that was planned that evening. You didn’t push him or try to talk about it, knowing that it would just make it worse; so you two had spent the day as it normally would (though he always looked and felt on edge) until he was forced to retreat back into that dreaded workspace.

You occupied yourself on your phone and laptop for a while, checking up on friends, reviewing anything you’d need for the upcoming semester, just scrolling through your socials— y’know, the works. But by the time you’d gotten bored with your scrolling, you’d notice it was a perfect time to start dinner that you’d hopefully be able to eat together with Corpse. You’d gotten to work right away, doing your best to be as quiet as you could to not disturb his work as the different aromas began to spread through the small kitchen in his apartment. Finishing up the dishes after the meal was all cooked, you dished up two servings and set them on the coffee table in front of the couch before you went to retrieve your other half.

Turning the knob of his office door slowly, you peered into the dark room; only the silhouette of the floppy mop of hair you adored so much was able to be seen in the dim light of his computer monitors. Taking a hard look at his right-most monitor you notice an editing software pulled up instead of the usual live chat he had on while streaming, so without any worry of interrupting you opened the door and stepped into the room. It was a cozy room for sure, and it always seemed to smell just like him— which of course is a given but with how much time he spent in this room, it was even more so present. Walking up slowly to his right side so you wouldn’t startle him with just your voice you watched his gaze flick to your form before steadying itself back in the monitor. Furrowing your brows at his strange behaviour but not letting it get to you, you opened your mouth to speak.

“I made dinner!” You smiled down at him, taking a few steps back toward the door so he would be able to get out of his gaming chair without you in his space. However, the hunched form of your focused boyfriend didn’t move an inch. Your heart sunk a little at his attitude but decided to just try again.

“Corpse, baby, dinners ready.”

“I’m not hungry.” The short statement left his mouth in a low grumble, if you hadn’t spent all this time with him studying his voice and begging him to speak more to you, you probably wouldn’t have been able make it out at all. You huffed out a sigh, this was new for him, you really hadn’t seen him as anything other than the cuddly baby you’d grown to know and love. But, you thought to yourself, love would come with days like this and it was bound to happen eventually. Trying your best to not get frustrated or angry with his snappy attitude, you kept your voice light and cheery as you tried again to coax him out to eat.

“Corpse you’ve barely eaten today I-“

“I said I’m not hungry.” Startling at the angry tone you’d never heard from him before, you could feel yourself start to get choked up. Pulling your hands up to hug your arms, trying to sooth yourself, you could feel yourself starting to slowly freeze up. Goosebumps ran over your skin, a chill snaking  it’s way up your spine as you gulped, trying your best to muster up the bravery to speak again. You didn’t know what had gotten into him, he knew how the tone affected you— he was usually even the one to comfort you after an episode triggering something like this. As your mouth began to run dry, you took a deep breath deciding that he would definitely come to his senses in the next moments, you opened your mouth to speak again.

“Is everything alri-“

“I’m FINE! I’m not a FUCKING CHILD I don’t need you constantly checking up on me! God would you just fuck off already!”

You didn’t even notice the tears dripping off your cheeks until they splashed against the bare skin of your hand. Slipping into the defense mode you knew so well, your body switched onto autopilot as you began to backpedal out of the room, almost tripping a few times as you sputtered out a choked “okay, I’m sorry,” before closing his door once again and stumbling messily down the hallway to his room. Your mind was moving a thousand miles a minute yet was completely blank at the same time, and before you knew it you were tucked away inside the dark closet in his room.

This was the routine, this is where you’d be safe.

Trying to slow your erratic breathing you hugged your knees even closer to your chest, praying that in some way it would ease your shaking body. But inevitably, you felt the sobs that you’d kept trapped in your throat since you’d left break through. Your chest heaved with the breaths you took to keep your sobs as silent as possible. You thought you had trained yourself well enough for this, you’d done this a million times before— but in the back of your mind you knew that this time it was different. Shrinking into the corner of the closet, the only thing on your mind was all the broken promises he’d sworn to keep.

>>>

Corpse sighed, his body weighing him down in his chair heavily, head aching with all the work he’d been doing that evening. Pulling his attention back, he stretched his arms as his sore eyes glanced over at the clock in the corner of his screen. 11:34pm. Fuck. That much time had passed already? Raking a hand through his hair he yawned sleepily, he knew he should probably spend more time working before calling it a night but all he wanted to do was curl up in bed with you-

Shit.

Finally snapping out of the heavy trance he’d set himself in every time he sat down to edit, he thought back to the last time he had seen you— calling him for dinner where he snapped at you to leave him alone… almost 3 hours ago. The memories of the past moment flooded into his head and seconds later he was scrambling out of his chair and out into the hallway. It was dead silent, Corpse felt like his heart was practically breaking his ribs with how hard it was pounding in his chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gripping at the right side of his shirt he rushed into the living room, rubbing frantically at his eyes as they darted around the room quickly looking for any sign of you.

“(Y/N), baby?” He rasped out, voice caught in his throat, walking through the living room and spotting the now cold meals she’d prepared waiting uneaten on the coffee table. His heart sunk as he hurried to the kitchen only to see the rest of the meal out on the counter, not doing anything to ease his mind. He called your name again and again; rushing back into the living room his eyes darted to the front door, a tiny bit of relief pricking his system as he saw the door was still locked and latched, as well as seeing your shoes and jacket by the door. Rushing back into the hallway he peeked into the bathroom, flicking on the light switch and with no sign of you, continued down the hallway to his room.

“(Y/N), please baby.” Flicking on the light his eyes scanned the room not catching a single sight of you-- when he heard it. Slowing his breathing down as much as he could in his panicked state he focused in his hearing on the small heaves of air coming from the closet. Stomach dropping, Corpse collapsed onto his knees, legs giving way from underneath him when he realized where you were and what was happening. Crawling his way toward the closet door he stopped right outside of it, he heard your breath hitch and knew you were holding it out of practiced instinct which made him want to vomit. But it wasn’t about him right now, so with a deep breath he finally managed to whisper out.

>>>

“Princess, I’m gonna open the door okay?”

Finally releasing the breath you had been holding, your lungs heaved for air as light flooded into the dark closet. Peeking an eye out from where it was buried in your knees, you blearily made out your boyfriend’s blurry figure kneeling outside the closet. With your body feeling like it was completely out of your control, sobs once again began to rack your huddled form as you shrunk away from him as far as you could into the corner of the closet.

“I’m gonna come in and sit with you okay, I won’t touch you unless you say I can alright?” You could hear some shuffling before hearing the door creak shut again engulfing the both of you in almost complete darkness, save for the few streams of yellow light coming from the cracks of the door. Corpse stared forward in complete silence, long legs bent uncomfortably and body hunched over in the cramped space of the closet trying to give you as much space as possible but knowing that the first step was sitting with you. The man beside you sighed softly, feeling his heart splinter with every heaving sob that raked over you; he could feel his own tears prick at his eyes and a sob starting to well up in his throat but he held them back. Mustering up the courage and will he finally opened his mouth to speak.

“(Y/N) I am so, so fucking sorry,” his voice pitched just above a whisper because he knew if his voice got any deeper that it would startle you and scare you even more than how you were already feeling right now. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. It never should’ve hap-“

“Y- You br- broke your promise.” Your reply came in watery, stuttered breaths; the knot in Corpse’s throat came right back up, tears filling his waterline as much as he tried to keep his composure for your sake.

“I know. I know I did.” The man beside you managed to choke out thinking back to the day where he first lost his temper around you. You’d told him everything about your experience with your past relationships and how you were treated, what you used to cope and what he could do to avoid that in any way possible. He promised that day that he would never again raise his voice, or move too fast even when he was angry or frustrated, and made sure to note down anything that would possibly trigger you to completely avoid altogether. And he kept those promises… until today. Tilting his head to glance over at you, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the closet to see you staring straight ahead, tears pouring endlessly down your damp face as your body still shook with soft cries.

“I can’t lose you (Y/N)” Corpse’s voice shook as he tried to figure out the right things to say that would keep you from walking right out that door.

“I’ll do anything. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ll be better, I swear on my life I’ll be better. Anything you need— it’s yours. I just.. I can’t lose you. Not like this.” He hated how much he sounded like he was pleading when he’s the one who fucked up. The last thing he wanted to do was manipulate you into staying with him which was exactly what your ex did when they made the same mistake time and time again; something he swore he’d never even think of doing. But here he was, and here you were glancing up at him with bloodshot eyes, hair sticking to your tear slicked face and body shaking so much you’d think it was below freezing in there.

Tearing your gaze away from his, you heaved a watery, shaky sigh trying your best to get your thoughts in order. While you had your issues, you knew he had his as well; and with as much patience and understanding he gives you with your snappy, frustrated, sad days, you needed to give back that same patience and understanding with his own. You needed to be brave here.

“Baby-“

“C-Can you just hold me? Please?” You sputtered out just above a whisper, and before you could even unwrap your arms from around yourself Corpse was pulling you into his lap; strong arms encasing you as he pushed his face into your hair. That’s when you found out he was shaking just as much as you were, chest rising and falling erratically with contained sobs as he tried to keep his brave demeanour up for you. Tucking your head under his chin he leaned back against the wall as he crushed you to his chest, the droplets hitting the top of your head giving way to the fact that he was crying too. Pulling your arms up from your side, you slowly wrapped them around his shoulder as he pushed his face against the crook of your neck, sobs finally giving way as he cried helplessly into your shoulder; further dampening the already tear-soaked cloth of the hoodie you were wearing.

“I’m sorry,” Corpse sputtered, hooking his chin over your shoulder so he could keep up with the heaving of his chest, pulling an arm up from around your waist to rest on the back of your head. As much as he wanted to run his hands all over your body and bury his fingers in your hair to feel and memorize every inch of you, he kept them still not wanting to overwhelm you more than this kind of touch already did.

“I love you, I love you so much, I love you..“ he whispered over and over into the darkness of the closet as you both began to breath slower as one. Shushing him softly, you repeated the soft words back to him before wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders, ensuring him that you were going to be alright.

There would be bumps in the road but Corpse was worth it.

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