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#my brain's a little mushy and words are not entirely my friend rn
elv-arts · 6 months
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Silly little thing I made the other week when I was stuck in hospital while I was feeling up to making things. It's litterally just me complaining cuz I was feeling pretty fed up lol. I have been almost entirely in hospital for over a month now with a only few days off. Back home after round 2 of chemo though and hoping not to have a repeat of The Infection I made this about! lol
[ID: A series of images of a small handmade zine held together with washi tape.
Image 1 - The cover, titled "THE HOSPITAL" in big blue all caps. There's some bright pink lines shooting out for emphasis, and little doodles of plasters, pills and a syringe coloured in bright orange.
Image 2 - Page 1 and 2. "I have been in hospital for 5 1/2 days and it has thoroughly SUCKED. I only just got out from 2 1/2 weeks unplanned hospital time and was supposed to have to weeks mostly at home but nope!" In big yellow all caps is written "2 DAYS" with spikey emphasis lines. "I have been in a wonderful variety of pains, experienced many lovely symptoms, and have been bombarded with people and occurences." Written with hearts and pink flowers around it is "Thank You Neutropenia!" Followed by a doodle of a simple person giving a big thumbs up from a hospital bed with a smile and bags under their eyes.
Image 3 - Page 3 and 4. "I'm doing chemo for lymphoma, and the plan was to cut and dye my hair with my siblings like this" an arrow points to a drawing of a bright green mullet haircut with bright pink buzzed sides. There's a bright yellow zigzag shape around it. "Or this" another arrow points to a drawing of a longer bright green mullet with dark green roots. There's a bright yellow zigzag shape behind it. "asap BEFORE my hair started falling out, then when it did I'd buzz it, look like-"
Image 4 - Page 5 and 6. "-a mouldy potato for a bit, then be bald until it grows back after treatment." There's a doodle of a potato with green mould and a little smiley face, and one of a shiney orange egg with wide eyes. Then in big purple caps is written "BUT INFECTION STRUCK" "after my first pass at a haircut. I went to bed, ready to finish it the next day, then BAM! Hospitaled." The word bam has a green spikey shape around it and there's a doodle of an ambulance. "Didn't even get to wash it, so it's been GREASY until today. And now it's falling out." There's another doodle of a hand holding a clump of hair.
Image 5 - Page 7 and 8. "But that brings me to today. The other day, they switched me to a new antibiotic, and last night and today I've been feeling almost normal apart from some little side effects. I'm doing really well compared to how I was. They're saying I might get home tomorrow and I" in big yelloW all caps taking up the next page "REALLY FUCKING HOPE SO!" With lots of green zigzags.
Image 6 - Page 9 and 10. A doodle of a simple figure backed by shadow, with wide, blank, shadowed eyes hunched over the word "UPDATE" written in big purple caps with a shadow underneath. "I did escape. For long enough to have my dinner, then STRAIGHT back into hospital with a high temp. Not neutropenic this time though. Been in about a day 1/2. Hoping to go home later today." a pink squiggle between the pages, then yellow caps saying "UPDATE 2" "I AM HOME!! I have lit candles. I am chilling. I got mcdonalds on the way home :) There's stuff I need to do, but that's for later. Just gonna enjoy the peace while it lasts. AND THUS ENDS THE HOSPITAL ZINE!" There's a little doodle of a couple of green candles and one of a burger and fries.
Image 7 - The back cover. There's a little orange plaster doodle in the corner, and at the bottom it says "Made in Hospital* *mostly" End ID]
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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year
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Yoo I have two request which I’ll send the other one separately but I am in an ANGSTY mood rn sooo yah also been binging ur headcanons and stuffs and I just love the way you write ?? It’s so entertaining lol
AnywY the actual request: can you write like a one shot or headcanons if you prefer of mc who is struggling after the belphie incident ?? Like they feel like they’ve mostly forgiven him and can act normally around him and they’re friends and take naps together but sometimes the flash back just HITS THEM and they have nightmares and panic attacks that can be so bad sometimes someone needs to get Simeon to calm them down. Maybe something of how the brothers react/treat mc and belphie? Idk I’m just thirsting for like MEGA ANGST rn bc my dad made me cry little bit lmao 😭
it comes at night
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hello anon! i'm terribly sorry you're in such an angsty mood, though i thank you for all the love-- and for sending this request right as these ideas were on the front of my mind. it genuinely makes me so happy to see people enjoying my work, and it makes all the writer's block and such worth it. i cannot express enough how much i love seeing all the comments, reblogs, etc. as people engage with my work.
anyways. i'm not sure how i feel about this piece, especially with how LONG it ended up being, but maybe that's just my mushy brain talking after looking at it too long. regardless-- i hope you enjoy (well, y'know, in like a sad and angsty way).
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synopsis: you thought you would be able to move on like all the others. your body was healed, your anxiety tucked neatly behind a mental wall built to keep you safe. yet something in you was stuck. you couldn't just move on. you were trapped in a battle between your friendship with belphegor and the fear gnawing at your brain as you remembered what exactly he did to you. when the dam finally breaks, your whole brain floods with terror, until you're swept away with it. nobody can save you now.
genre: angst, no happy end, just a big ol spoonful of sadness
word count: ~3.1k
content warnings: chapter 16 spoilers, graphic(?) discussions of death, depictions of panic attacks, nightmares, mc progressively getting worse from fear + lack of sleep
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it's funny how time works. 
you'd been around your fair share of years. you’d grown, you’d changed, you’d spent your entire life looking toward the future you had planned. then you, a mere human, were yanked into an unfamiliar world. you spent an entire year in the devildom– a year that simultaneously dragged on and flew by– and came out the other side a new person. a single year in the devildom has changed you more than the human realm has your entire life. time was a mischievous thing, always leaving you chasing behind in a fruitless pursuit of something you’ll never quite understand.
but, she also brings blessings with her. they say that time heals all wounds. you've always agreed with that sentiment. scraped knees and adolescent broken hearts are swept away with the passing days, trailing further and further behind you until one day you forget to look back and remember them. the pain scribbled down on diary pages or cried into pillow cases no longer stings like a fresh burn. these things are nothing but scars now. time has a special way of patching you up, of rubbing your back until the tears clear up and you can finally see again. that is how it's always been. 
where is time when you need it? 
she hasn't quite abandoned you, this much is true. cuts and bruises heal over the passing days. your hair and nails still grow. your body still changes, slowly but surely, marching onwards week after week. yet your mind is trapped in stasis. you struggle to break free, but at times the rot consumes you whole, until you’re crying under the covers and begging from respite from the memories. 
on the worst nights, you find yourself in the attic again, watching the door between you and belphegor swing open. you watch yourself march towards death.
you can still feel his hands around your neck, digging his claws into your fragile human skin like you're made of sand. the scent of blood-- your own blood, on the floors, on the walls, leaking from your torso and staining your clothes a permanent maroon-- still clings to the inside of your nose. even your wildest dreams could not erase the sight of his smug grin, the way his eyes lit up looking at your battered body.
no one person should have to carry the weight of realizing they're going to die. that's what you thought about when your body hit the bottom of the stairs, when belphegor tossed you down from the attic with a harsh laugh and punted your limp body into the entrance hall. you thought about how unfair this all was. you were just trying to help. you thought you were doing the right thing.
one of the worst parts of your untimely demise was watching the others react. the voices pool together in your head, like the colors of the rainbow twisting together on the surface of an oil spill. asmo's panicked shriek blends into satan's angry shouts, desperate to understand what's going on. lucifer's yelling almost drowns out the fearful cries coming from levi, held back by a very silent beel. 
but above all of that, you remember mammon. your first man, the first demon who took a chance on the defenseless little human, rushing to your side and gathering you in his arms like you were about to break. his hand on the side of your face, the tears streaming down his face, the shaky, desperate voice assuring you that you'll be okay and begging you to hang on, okay? please don't leave me. you can't remember if he was shaking or if it was your body's last ditch effort to stay conscious-- maybe both. your trembling fingers intertwined with his. words came out of your mouth, and you're not sure what exactly you said, but he only cried harder in response. 
and then, as your eyes shut for the final time, you woke at the bottom of the attic stairs. you had cheated death. 
your price? you had to carry the memories. 
the world kept spinning. days passed in the devildom. you returned to school, kept on top of your homework, spent your days in the house of lamentation alongside the seven demon brothers. you even got to know belphegor as he navigated his return home. he quickly grew fond of you. that, in and of itself, was jarring. but you returned each and every smile with one of your own. his actions were rooted in his own grief for his sister, you knew, and for that you could not fault him. you helped him repair the severed relationships between him and his elder siblings, stitching the family back together like a prized quilt until the seams of betrayal were sufficiently hidden. 
time is a traitorous bitch. why did she choose now to leave your wounds bare and bleeding?
everyone moved on but you. everyone got to wake up in the mornings without a nagging anxiety holding them back. the others could hang out with belphegor day in and day out without a growing feeling of dread popping up when you think you're safe. 
he killed you. he was grieving. your blood drenched the entryway floors as he laughed. he has grown. you watched the light leave mammon's eyes as you slipped away. belphie has been nothing but kind to you since that day. you fucking died. 
you wish your mind could pick a side. did you forgive him, or did you resent him? was he your friend, or your killer? these answers evaded you in the dead of night as you struggled to sleep again. it was becoming more common for you to lose hours of rest to these nagging fears. who are you? are you even you anymore? did the switch in timelines scatter your atoms across countless universes, leaving the you that looks back at you in the mirror nothing more than a hollow shell? 
you thought that you could keep your mind on a tight leash, keep your cards close to your chest as you continued to live with the brothers. you were wrong.
the first meltdown came during a nap with belphie. you had grown to trust him-- you thought you trusted him-- enough to sleep around him. he'd coax you every so often into an afternoon nap. always in the light of day, always your choice. and for many afternoons, you were perfectly content with this arrangement. belphie was warm and cuddly, a perfect companion for a lazy afternoon. he had this way of making you feel safe as you slept-- the nightmares couldn't come when he was snuggled up next to you, when you were sure his actions were ones of affection and not another trick to gain your trust.
one afternoon, while the sun was beginning to set, you stirred under the warmth of the blankets. the body next to yours lingered close, steady breaths lulling you back to dreamland. you could stay like this forever, you thought.
and then you felt it. the gentle graze of a familiar cow tail against your skin.
something inside of you, a dam you didn't even know was there, snapped. a hot flash of panic rose up your throat as your whole body jerked away from the feeling. your eyes shot open and you found yourself in the last place you needed to be right now: the attic. you pulled yourself out of bed before your brain could catch up. colors flashed across your vision as a consequence. you whipped around, disoriented and upset, and spotted a sleeping belphie in the bed where you once were.
a sleeping, demon belphie.
the familiar curve of his horns made your throat spasm as you tried to breathe. the colors flashed in your vision again-- oh god, what a terrible time to be left defenseless-- as your brain tried to drag you back to that day. you could practically see his face shift from relief to malicious, insidious joy as he began to attack you.
"hehe... does it hurt? finding it hard to breathe? i'm sure it must be very unpleasant."
please. please no.
" i have to say, seeing a human face twisted in pain like this... why, it's so much fun that i can barely stand it! i... i can't contain the laughter!"
you weren't quite sure when you hit the ground, but it was loud enough to wake belphegor from his slumber. he peeled his body off the mattress, slow and dazed, as he looked for you.
"mc? what're you... what's going on?"
please don't. this can't be happening.
your lungs collapsed from the weight of your own panic. you gasped-- once, twice, as your vision went in and out. were you bleeding? your hand loosely brushed at the front of your clothes, but couldn't process whether that was blood or your vivid imagination. were you even breathing? your head felt light and heavy at the same time. the wires in your brain were all crossed, sending both resuscitation and shutdown signals to each part of your body. this feeling... this was too familiar.
were you dying?
"mc, what's going on?"
you came face to face with belphegor. your friend, your killer. the demon who had lured you up to this very attic to kill you, now gripping your shoulders as interrogated you inches from your face.
you screamed. you screamed until your brain shut off completely, leaving you in an inky pit of darkness as your consciousness slipped away.
the house was in disarray for several days. apparently, lucifer came in shortly after you passed out, mammon at his heels, to save the day. you woke up later in his bed, the room cold and empty, with a throbbing head and a tear stained pillow. you stumbled out into his office to find him at his desk, lost in some paperwork like always. the solemn look he gave you as your eyes met told you everything you needed to know.
from this day forth, your fear was now your constant companion.
nobody in the house of lamentation knew how to move forward. not you, not the brothers, not the widening gap growing between you all with each passing day spent in emotional limbo. finally, lucifer called everyone to a family meeting where, over the course of an hour or two, everyone came to an agreement to acknowledge what had happened and why, promised to be mindful of this trauma that you're carrying, and move forward like you requested.
silent days slowly but surely filled back up with laughter again. the brothers came back to your side at their own pace-- asmo first, within a matter of hours, then mammon shortly after, then the others in the following days.
belphegor was the last to come around. his silence spoke volumes about his guilt. he had no clue how to comfort you. he'd do anything to repent for his actions. yet that was the way that life worked, didn't it? some actions simply cannot be undone.
but you didn't let that stop you. despite the panic that closed your throat every time you saw him for the next month, you slowly earned his friendship again. you assured him that the attic incident was a one time thing, the remnants of a lost nightmare blending into your consciousness as you awoke.
until it wasn't a one time thing.
the nightmares crept up on you. the first one happened, of course, that same night, as you thrashed and wept into lucifer's pillows. then a week later, another. a week and a half after that, another. the frequency eventually became higher and higher, until you started planning your sleep schedule (or lack thereof) around your new insomniac tendencies. but even you couldn't manage to stay awake forever.
on a bad night, you'd wake up in tears, crying weakly to yourself as you tried to coax yourself back to bed. on worse nights, you'd shoot up out of bed, limbs tingling in fear, opting to spend the rest of the night in the common room until the others woke for the day. on the worst night, you finally broke. you shattered worse than you could have imagined.
you finally collapsed into bed, body shutting down after a three days of minimal sleep. you were starting to get shaky from the lack of rest, and your lack of appetite was upsetting the others. you crawled under the covers and let your brain slip out of your hands and off to dreamland.
what a fool you were to think you'd get by without nightmares.
visions of demonic teeth tearing at your flesh filled your head. you tried to run away, tried desperately to wake yourself up, but their claws sunk into your flesh. the pain was vivid, was real. memories of your death lived underneath your skin, ready to resurface in the dark of night when there was no escape. you fought back as best you could, kicking and screaming and trying to run, but you were no match for the supernatural strength of your demons. you eventually gave in, an act of learned helplessness, and surrendered yourself to your worst nightmares.
you woke up choking on your own tears. heaving, gasping breaths tried to save you, mixing with coughs as your body struggled to hang on. the tears finally gave way to the memories-- hot blood dripping from your torso, screaming faces begging you to stay, your head going fuzzy as your vision followed--and your screams escaped without a fight.
a mixed cacophony of voices came flooding in the room. you'd be touched by the gesture, seeking comfort in the arms of your dearest friends, if your brain hadn't reminded you that they were demons as well. nightmarish beasts with fangs and claws, predators built to rip your soft flesh from your bones and leave you to die like roadkill.
you felt a hand on your shoulder. who's was it? you could not tell. your first and only instinct was to scream for mercy, hot tears streaming down your face as mammon's hurt expression moved back out of your line of sight. your chest heaved with effort. it felt like your whole body was caving in on itself. you didn't even realize you were shaking as you curled your body into a ball. your side hit the mattress with a pathetic thud and you wept, bitter and fearful, as a panic attack kept you trapped in its grip.
you don't know how long you stayed curled up like that, wordless cries echoing from your room and into the hallway, but eventually the sound of approaching footsteps caught enough of your attention to forget the panic, even if just for a moment.
"hey, it's okay," a familiar, comforting voice approached, cutting through the fear like a moonlight on a stormy night. "mc, it's me, it's simeon. it's going to be okay."
you felt the bed shift under the weight of someone sitting down, and you blindly threw your body at the person before checking to see if it was really him. it took you a few moments to raise your head, and when you did, you saw him: simeon, your angel, blue eyes full of worry as he met your gaze.
you cried in his arms until you fell into a fitful, dreamless sleep.
the next morning was miserable, to say the least. breakfast was tense. they all watched you like a hawk, like you were a powder keg about to explode with one wrong move. you couldn't blame them. you were afraid of your own emotions, and on some level, you were afraid of them. your trauma was making you afraid of the very people you cared about the most. these brothers had welcomed you into their home, took care of you as you adjusted to life in the devildom, and yet you couldn't hold eye contact without breaking in to a cold sweat.
the only person who did not watch you was belphegor. he was nowhere to be found during breakfast, nor dinner, nor breakfast the following day. you tried to seek him out, but somehow the avatar of sloth had become a skilled sneak in his silence.
you finally caught him alone on day four of radio silence. you both had stayed home without realizing the other had also skipped school that day-- you, from the lack of sleep eating at your brain, and belphegor, with his usual routine of missing class to nap at the house of lamentation. he was curled up on the couch in the common room, basking in the warmth of the fireplace in his slumber. you decided to wait for him to wake up. you sat down on the couch opposite of the one where he rested and watched him, quietly, like he'd disappear if you dared to blink.
creepy? yes. but your brain was long ruined by sleep deprivation and gnawing anxiety to worry about such trivial things.
when he finally stirred, you gently called belphegor's name. he took a moment to finally look at the source of the voice, but when he did, his body froze as the two of you made eye contact. a few moments passed in silence. finally, he sat up and began to make a move to leave.
"wait."
he stopped, but his gaze did not meet yours. you rose from your seat and joined him on the couch. the youngest pulled his legs in, twisting his body into a defensive little ball, and countered your next sentence before you could even open your mouth.
"you shouldn't be here with me."
"i think i'm old enough to make decisions for myself."
he shifted uncomfortably in the silence. you spoke again.
"i miss you. and i'm sorry."
he scoffed to himself and stared at the fireplace. "don't know why you think you should be apologizing to me. i'm the one that's the problem."
"you're not a problem, belphie. i never meant to make you feel like one."
every hair on your body stood on end. your hands trembled against your wishes, so you sat on them to stay focused. you had to do this. you had to keep moving forward.
"i hurt you, mc. you're afraid i'm going to do it again."
you sighed-- it came out more shaky than you would have liked-- and looked down. how had it come to this? how had someone you'd grown to hold so dear become a stranger again?
"i don't want to stop being friends. i don't like when you avoid me."
"you still get nightmares, don't you?"
you pause. his icy gaze on the side of your head sent you into a cold sweat.
you smiled-- it felt more like a grimace, personally-- and prayed it didn't come across insincere. your fingers carefully intertwined with his. he met your gaze. you were thankful he couldn't see the way your chest tightened when you made eye contact. 
"i'm okay, belphie," you lied. 
this fear was going to be the death of you. 
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sebsxphia · 11 months
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Seb, I know I have said it a million times, but I'm going to say it a million more whether it's here or in private messages. Thank you for your posts. And I don't just mean your writing (although it always makes my day. Especially on my bad ones, curling up with my sloth stuffie and reading through for comfort) but for you. You take the time to say hello, to check in, to let everyone ramble, and let people talk. You let everyone be who they want, and you provide a safe place. I come to Tumblr to get away from everything, whether it's my personal life, politics, drama... I know your page is immediately the place I can go to so I can shut my brain off. On this app, this blog, I can just let myself enjoy any silly posts or jokes, see the soft thoughts or the thots.
I don't know if you know how much it means to me to just have you here. And I hope soon I'll be back to writing once my mental health is better (I am working with my therapist!) And I can maybe bring you some of that joy too. I try to make my page drama free and politically free, so people have the opportunity to be relaxed also. The only "drama" (although i dont see it as drama personally) I know I step in is defending other writers. Cause seb, you and so many others, if you get even a little hate, just send them my way. I'll go right up to bat for ya ❤️
Sorry, got a little off topic (apparently when showing my love for people that happens. Who knew?)
But still, even if you chose to stop writing and just wanted to be a chat blog, I would be here. You became such a great friend, honestly.
Thank you ❤️
gabbie 🥺🥺🥺
i’m sorry i took a while to reply to this. i had it in my inbox and i just kept re-reading it and tearing up and feeling all mushy 🥺
i’m at a complete loss for words and overwhelmed (in the best way!) with this sweet and thoughtful message. i hope you know this has truly made my entire week and i really needed to read this rn. goodness, i’m just so honored and happy to hear that my lil blog can provide that comfort and safe place for you. it’s music to my ears. 💗
i know i’ve said it before, but i’ve always wanted this lil blog to be a safe place and let people come ramble, talk or vent, and it makes my heart swell that it’s perceived like that.
i’m also so pleased to hear that you’re working with your therapist! i hope you’re taking it slow and taking care of yourself, because you deserve it my lovely angel! you are so sweet, kind and wonderful and i’m just so thrilled to call you my friend, and an incredibly wonderful friend at that! 🥹💗
do not apologise one bit, my love. spreading love and joy is a okay here! thank you so much for this message and thank you for just being the lovely and kind soul that you are, inside and out. i’m sending you so much love my angel, mwah mwah mwah! 💗💕💓🫶🏼
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