Yeah, I'm living for you And you can't stand the sight of me So what's the point of this Fucked up catastrophe?

He's a bit evil now. But that's okay

its not anon but i too have crush on ainadarlin tbh i wish i could kill her virgin and eat her liver and bathe in her blood and then burn her flesh in the woods in the midnight and worship her forever and then sent her to hell anf then vehicular manslaughter myself down the river... hope this hells ^w^

brother why kill her virgin tho?? also burning in midnight taylor swift reference waw

DAVID CASTAÑEDA 

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY The Swedish Job

A Warning isn't Enough

@mediwhumpmay: stabbing @themerrywhumpofmay: ship TW: murder (Snippet from Hidden Killer)

Sunstreaker walks down the hall, seeing Jamie with a couple of soldiers. He has plenty of reason to hate seeing soldiers near Jamie. He listens to what they're saying, getting angry. "... seriously, how the fuck are you allowed here? You have fucking babysitters." The soldier is shoved to the wall. "Go ahead, say that again!" "You are one of her babysitters." Sunstreaker grabs the soldier's neck. "I will not warn you again; get lost before I kill you!" The soldier runs away. Sunstreaker hates the look on Jamie's face. He knows she's thinking about what the soldier told her, unaware Sunstreaker threatened the soldier. Sunstreaker picks her up and carries her to his room.

By the time Sunstreaker gets to his room and sits on the couch, tears roll down Jamie's face. That fragger is dead. Sunstreaker decides, hating Jamie, is crying. Sunstreaker? Sideswipe asks through the bond. What are you doing? Sunstreaker asks. Your ignoring my question is concerning.

Sideswipe walks into the room in less than five minutes. Not liking what he's seeing. Immediately thinking Jamie needs a distraction. "Jamie, do you want to play video games?" Sideswipe asks and takes Jamie from Sunstreaker. It's bad how much we like how short she is. Sunstreaker comments. It's helpful, though we could carry her if she was taller. Sideswipe claims. Sunstreaker leaves the room. Sideswipe is worried about what he's looking to do.

Sunstreaker didn't think he'd find the scrumbag soldier talking to others on his way to the stairs. "...a week on a cruise ship," they tell the other two, "a nice vacation. I need to head to the port in an hour." Perfect, you're mine. Sunstreaker goes downstairs and leaves the base heading to Panera Bread as planned.

Jamie is doing better when Sunstreaker returns to the room. She smiles, seeing the cookies and that Sunstreaker brought a half gallon of milk and cups. So, are we telling them? Sideswipe asks. It doesn't matter if they know. They know this scrap happens. Sunstreaker leaves the room, telling Sideswipe he's going to workout.

Sunstreaker follows the soldier to a bus stop in his alt mode. He follows the specific bus to the cruise ship port. He is aware he'll have to sneak onto the ship. This will be challenging. Sunstreaker observes. He covers everything but his eyes in black clothing. Not particularly pleased that the Holiday Killer will help keep suspicion off him.

Sunstreaker sneaks on the ship, finds a place to hide, and waits to find out where his target's cabin is. He finds a staff member with a list of guests' cabins quickly. Watching the human walk into the security office. Just my luck. He smiles. He gets a security card and finds the soldier's cabin. He knows he could be waiting a few hours. Sideswipe, I'm out of the base for a while. Sunstreaker tells his brother. I'm not even going to ask. Sunstreaker feels his brother's disappointment.

Sunstreaker waits in the cabin bathroom until three. Not worried about the ship departing in an hour. The soldier finally walks into their cabin. "Finally, a vacation." Sunstreaker quietly walks out of the bathroom. "I could make your vacation permanent." The soldier is backed into the corner. Sunstreaker grabs the soldier by the neck and shoves him against the wall. "Fuck you!" Sunstreaker tightens his hold, choking the soldier. "I'd love to hear you scream, but then I'd be interrupted," Sunstreaker throws the soldier onto the bed and quickly gags and ties him up, "now I can begin your punishment," Sunstreaker stabs the soldier in the abdomen, enjoying the muffled screaming as he pushes the knife deep into the body and goes up towards the chest, "bleed to death, scum!" He puts his knife in his subspace and runs out of the room. Being careful not to be seen.

Sunstreaker makes it off the ship before departure. He removes the gloves, face covering, and hoodie and puts the items in his subspace before returning to the base.

Sunstreaker returns to the base in time for dinner. Sideswipe knows what he did but won't say anything to Optimus. He would have kept targeting her. Sunstreaker argues. And it's not an issue enough for punishment by Lennox. I will protect Jamie and Lily from scumbags like him. Sideswipe knows killing isn't right but also hates how soldiers target Jamie; a few have targeted Lily. The fact that it's not because they are femme doesn't make the soldiers' actions any better to him. When will they leave her alone? Sideswipe wonders.  

"Reports of a housekeeper finding the dead body laying on a bed covered in blood," the news reporter says, "cruise-goers are worried the Holiday Killer is onboard the ship. The shop is returning to the Baltimore cruise port to allow authorities to search the ship. There are no plans to cancel the cruise, but refunds will be issued if requested." Sunstreaker smiles, hearing the humans cowering in fear even if they think the Holiday Killer killed the soldier. I don't like that I helped get people to fear that aft, but no one will know it was me.

when you accidentally trigger yourself while writing and you gotta take a step back 🫡

got quite drunk with some history majors tonight pretty fun. also hard seltzer is fucking nasty

TW TW BLOOD BLODD BLOOD IF YOUR BAD WITH BLOOD SCROLL!!!

child oc number 2 but more TRAUMA I guess

Happy

Happy 6th anniversary!

Tumblr wouldn’t eat me post it here so I posted it on my YouTube ☺️ I really hope it doesn’t get copyright striked

Father, what is-- [Dimitri sees the pallor of Lambert's face and recognizes what's happening on sight.] Oh no. Father... [He tentatively lays a hand upon Lambert's shoulder, stroking circles with his thumb and whispering the gentlest reassurances, praying a difference will be made.]

*He tried again to see through the smoke. He'd find Dimitri and Anselma and save them. He would. But where were they? All he could see was fire, debris and bodies. When would it stop? This couldn't go on forever, could it? When was he just going to die already? When was he going to get out of this and live? When was he going to find anybody? When was he going to save anyone? When was this going to end?! Stone. Again. Father... Someone had said father... Something was touching him! Was it a threat?! Had they come to kill Rodrigue?! Who!? He turned around to see Dimitri staring down at him. Dimitri. He was alright! For now...*

D-Dimitri? You're- You're okay. You're alive. How did you escape the fire?

*His mind kept switching in and out. But Dimitri remained. Where there was once fire and bodies, there was now fire, bodies, and Dimitri. Why did he look so much older? He looked like a young adult! Not a thirteen year old teenager. What was- Garreg Mach? How did he get here? Something was wrong with his mind. He couldn't decide where he was, or what was happening.*

D-Dimitri... Someone is threatening to kill- Someone's going to kill me! No... Wait how did I get- Where's Rodrigue? Are you alright? When did you get so tall? Dimitri, run there's a fire! Wait, stay here. Someone means to kill you and Rodrigue!

*He was so confused. What was happening?! East a minute... It didn't even matter what was happening... No matter if he's surrounded by soldiers and fire, or if he's in the monastery facing a possible assassination, Dimitri was unsafe. He immediately stumbled to find Areadbhar, which he quickly realized, he'd left in his quarters. Luckily he still had a sword. He forced himself onto his feet, using the wall for support. And got into a defensive position. He had to be ready. He had to protect Dimitri this time. This time he wouldn't fail.*

I will kill anyone who attempts to hurt you.

I want to play a game...

Chapter two: Game of survival

Word count: 2,726

Warnings: mention of major character death, blood, profanities.

A/N 1: This part ended up going in a completely different direction than I originally intended.

A/N 2: I don’t own these characters/ the saw universe.

Sorry ‘read more’ isn’t working.

Summary: They have to get through a series of agonising traps to earn their survival, but who will live and who will die? 

Permatag: @desireepow-1986 @cordoniaqueensworld

Series tags: @cordonianroyalty @imthequeenofcordonia @rainbowsinthestorm @ladyangel70 @texaskitten30 (just let me know if you’d like to be added/ removed)

His limbs felt heavy, achy as he started to claw his way back to consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, the room was dark except a green kind of glow to it. He blinked a couple of times until everything came flooding back into focus. He looked up realising that his arms were chained above his head.

He looked around him- nothing to be seen. It looked like he was in some kind of warehouse. He soon noticed that his legs weren’t chained to anything, just his arms. He twisted his body slightly to look around when an agonising, fiery like pain laced through his abdomen. He looked down to see his shirt was now red where he felt the pain. He was kind of scared to see what was underneath his shirt if he was being honest.

He stood on a podium, like a stage. Gritting his teeth, he jumped up and down pulling on the chains that held him in an attempt to loosen them from the metal pipe where they were attached to. His attempt to loosen the chains that held him turned out to be futile, they wouldn't budge.

He looked up seeing they were attached to a metal pipe a good 10ft to 15ft above him. He twisted around so he could grip on the chains more easily and hoisted himself up, groaning loudly at the pain that shot through his abdomen. He took a second then continued to climb the chains, once he was high enough he wrapped his legs around it, grabbing on it with his hands and trying to tug it but once again it wouldn't budge. He huffed knowing what he needed to do but knowing it was going to definitely hurt. He took his legs from around the pipe and grabbed back onto the chains.

1

2

3

He let go. The pipe snapped and fell with him. He hit the stage, ending up going through it and landing on his back. He screamed, gritting his teeth. He could feel blood dripping from the wound on his stomach and others that were caused by going through the stage. The chains fell and hit his chest just causing him to yell out in pain again. He opened his eyes at the right time to see the pipe coming down as well so caught it just before it hit his face, chucking it away from him.

He lay there for some time, unaware of how much time had actually passed. His time perception was off, he knew it was late evening when- he couldn't even remember what happened. It felt fuzzy, like his head was made of cotton wool, but he didn't know how much time had passed, how long he’d been out. The lighting again wasnt real so that gave him no indication of what time it was which all in all was messing with his head slightly.

He wasnt sure how much time had gone by but by then the pain had started to lessen somewhat, from the fall anyway, so he turned onto his side, groaning loudly and grinding his teeth together as he did so. He managed to get onto his knees, he lent back on his legs looking at the handcuff like things around his wrists that the chains were attached to. He tried to pry them off but luck wasnt on his side today.

Out of options and knowing what he needed to do to get out of them, he placed his left arm across his leg and lined it up so his right hand with the metal part was hovering over his hand, or more specifically his thumb. He gritted his teeth and brought it down on his hand, the metal tore into his flesh leaving blood trickling down from the wound. He struck it again feeling the bone pop out from it’s socket.

“Fuck!” he yelled. He took in a breath, wincing when he looked down at his now bloody hand. He needed the things off, he wouldn't be able to get far carrying around the chains- they’d hold him back. At least if he got one off that would grant him some freedom to find something to get the other one off with. He grabbed on the cuff around his now injured hand with his other as he wiggled it out, the flesh getting scratched by the rough metal as he shimmied it out of its confinements. He held his hand against his chest when it was finally out and the chain attached to the cuff clattered onto the floor beside him.

Once he had gotten his breath back, he wobbly got to his feet, still keeping his injured hand against his chest. After he had gotten his balance he looked down at the now red stained t-shirt, he felt the world around him sway- he never was a fan of blood.

With his uninjured hand he lifted up his shirt a little bit to see a once gaping wound that had been poorly stitched back up. He dreaded to think why it was there to begin with. He stepped out of the rubble of the now fallen stage, tugging on the chain as the pipe got stuck against some debris. Every step hurt. He wasn't sure where it hurt more if he was being honest. He could feel some blood dripping down his back from the wound he’d gotten from the fall.

He looked around once again when an envelope caught his attention, he hobbled over it, groaning as he bent down to pick it up. He ripped it open pulling out a glossy piece of paper, his brow furrowing as he did so. He turned the paper over - his confusion multiplying as he did so. Once the paper was facing the right direction, he could see an x-ray of a torso. In the left corner of the picture was a key. He unconsciously put his hand over the wound on his abdomen right where the x-ray was showing where a key was.

His gaze then shifted to the cuff on his hand, quickly locating the lock. It didn't take him too long to figure out where this was going. There was no way he was going through dislocating his thumb again.

He looked back into the envelope he was still holding and found a straight needle and some thread- the same coloured thread that was obviously used to stitch him up in the first place.

He staggered back over to the now fallen stage, carefully falling to his knees beside it. He placed the items down beside him. Keeping his still bleeding hand against his chest, he rummaged through the debris until he located a piece with a sharp, serrated edge. He brought his findings up to his face, examining the needle-like point. Once he had come to the conclusion that the piece of debris would in fact do the job, he unbuckled his belt as he leaned back on his legs. He placed the debris and his belt down beside him as he lifted up his shirt, getting a good look at the wound. He placed the x-ray in front of him as he slipped his shirt off over his head. He picked up the belt, folding the leather in half then placed it in his mouth between his teeth. He then picked up his ‘scalpel’. He gingerly touched the outside of the wound with his injured hand as he adjusted his grip on the debris clutched in the other- the jagged edge slightly slicing into his flesh on his fingers- which all in all was miniscule to the pain he had already experienced and was about to. He shakily brought it towards his wound. He took in a deep breath as an attempt to calm himself down before he started.

He brought it just beside the first stitch, gently as possible cutting through the thread of the first suture. He winced- it was muffled by the belt in his mouth that his pearly teeth were currently clamped down on. He continued onto the next one. Some blood soon started to pool from the wound, down his stomach and onto the floor below him. He tried not to look at it, he was already holding back the urge to spill his guts as it was, however, doing this blindly most likely was not the best cause of action.

He tried to somehow distance himself. He tried to imagine that he wasn’t about to rummage around his stomach for a key, the searing pain made that difficult though, that and the feel of the warm, sticky blood starting to pool from the wound.

He cut through the next stitch- there were eight in total, he wasnt even half way yet. He cut through the others quite quickly, wanting it over quickly, the sooner he did it, the sooner he could get the key, sew himself back up and get out.

He took the belt out from his mouth- seeing the imprints in the leather he’d left and tossed it down onto the floor beside him. He took in a deep breath and looked down to the now fully gaping wound. He picked out the bits of thread that were left in the wound- wincing as he did so. After that was done, he placed his thumb on one side of the wound and his index finger on the other side. He grunted as he spread open the wound, his other way hovered near it. He took a moment waiting for it to stop shaking before he slowly pushed his fingers into the wound. He carefully felt around whilst thinking of other things other than what he was doing, the pain of it and the wet, warm, sticky blood coating his fingers.

Finally his fingers brushed against something not organic. He carefully grabbed hold of it, having a good feel of it and soon coming to the conclusion that it was definitely a key. It had been a while since he was in school but he remembered enough about biology to know that you don't have metal, key-like organs. He used his other hand to open up the wound more so he could easily take his fingers out.

He let out a sigh of relief when it was finally over. He quickly used the blood soaked key to unlock the cuff around his wrist, relishing the feeling of there no longer being a weight around his wrist as it clattered to the floor.

He dropped the key down beside the X-ray and picked up the needle and thread after using his already crimson shirt to wipe away some of the blood. He quickly threaded the needle and without thinking too much about it made the first stitch. He hated the feeling of his skin being weaved back together as the needle went in and out, in and out of his flesh. It was fiddly with the needle being straight and having an injured hand made it more difficult, however, he got it done.

He bent over slightly to pick up the blood covered piece of debris to cut the thread, then without care let the needle, thread and ‘scalpel’ clatter onto the concrete.

By the time he was done he had blood dripping down his chin from where he had bitten into his lip so harshly. He used his shirt to wipe away any blood that was around the wound and his chin then slipped his shirt back on. There was something about walking around half-naked that made him uncomfortable, like a piece of his armour was missing. It made him in a strange way feel safer- less vulnerable with his shirt back on.

Without warning a light suddenly was switched on- it was like a spotlight pointing to a door on the other end of the room. He was certain had the mysterious light not have been switched on then he wouldn't have noticed it in the otherwise dimly lit room.

He staggered on over to it. Noting ‘this way’ was written on the grimy, metal door in red ink.

He pushed against it with all his strength to get the stiff, heavy door to open. It almost certainly hadn't been used for a very, very long time. He stopped at the threshold- slightly hesitant to leave. Yes, it looked as if a massacre had gone on with all the blood in there but...it had just been him, but now he was about to step out of there into the unknown with no idea what awaited him. No idea what was lurking on the other side. He did it anyway.

He walked through the long, narrow corridor, the dull lights flickered on and off as he continued on his way, avoiding the water dripping from the ceiling above him.

He kept a hand over his wound as he hobbled along. He pushed the creaky door open at the end of the hall, being greeted with a rickety- not exactly safe looking metal staircase on the other side. He gripped the cold metal handrail on his way up them- the metal clanking beneath his feet. He arrived at the top of the steps into another little hallway with another staircase at the end.

He made his way along, stopping by what looked like a piece of glass- like a one way mirror, he thought.

He leaned in close but still couldn't see anything inside. His curiosity and confusion only spiked when he noticed a big light- like the ones they used on tv to mimic natural light pointing into whatever that room was being used for.

He didn't stay long, eager to get the hell out of there so made his way towards the other staircase. He didn't know where he was going, not a clue in the world but continued on his travels regardless.

Again the metal clanked beneath his weight as he negotiated down the stairs taking him into another hallway. This one seemed to go on for an eternity until he reached...nothing. A brick wall. There was never an option to go left or right. Just a continuous concrete-like maze, except this one guided you toward only one destination. He pushed against it. He didn't know why or what he expected to happen but he certainly didn't expect a mechanical whirring and the bricks to all fall out of place and for the whole structure to move to the side, letting him see the room that stood on the other side.

He stepped in, welcomed by water dripping on to his head. He looked up seeing tubes hanging from the ceiling. It didn't take him long to notice the window- he assumed it was the same one he tried to look through...however long ago that was. Again his time perception was off.

He looked around, taking it all in. The room was still wet, water coated basically every surface and dripped from the ceiling.

He saw the door, his eyes soon travelling to the body that lay just beside it. He walked quickly over to it, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He felt himself start to gag as he took notice of his friend's body. He carefully got to his knees, placing two fingers on the pulse point on his neck- he already knew but...he needed to know for certain.

He felt his body shudder at how cold Maxwell’s body felt under his touch. Of course, he felt nothing and took his hand away, carefully standing back up.

He soon took notice of the staircase and open door. He cautiously walked over to it, taking his first step up.

He ended up down another narrow hallway and entered the only room at the end. The smell of blood in the air was prominent. It looked like a murder scene and judging by the body hanging limply in what looked like some kind of torture device..it was.

This time he couldn't keep the sick down. Practically projectile vomiting in the corner of the room. He looked up when he heard footsteps, his eyes widened in confusion.

“Hello Liam,” the person said, before he felt something strike him in the back of the head before everything went black.

continued. -- @agodandhisandroids

     Time wasn’t the same to Hana ever since they had found her in that basement she had been locked up in for... she didn’t even know how long she had been there. There were many things she didn’t know anymore; what day and month it was, what had happened that made her forget a lot of what had happened during her time being captive and who to trust.

     Even her loved ones.

     She flinched at the sound of her name, fists tightening and nails digging into her palms. Her body had started to tremble and she forced herself to not look at the glass, to look at the person behind it. But the urge to explode was stronger.

     In a split second, Hana was punching the thick glass of the holding cell, not even caring of how little her movements were because of the handcuffs. If only she could break that glass, she could finally wrap her hands around his throat and squeezed as she was told to do -- or more brainwashed to do. 

     Bloodstained the glass, painting hard, Hana looked at Elijah, but the cheeriness and loved that once shined through her eyes was now veiled by a dull pain and anger. Her knuckles stang and she felt the blood dripping to the tips of her fingers. 

     Not only Hana had become unstable, she now had these random spurs of murderous intent once in a while.

Devil Town by Cave Town?

Reminds me about the Springlock failure death scene. Which in my AU William was like “Hey so even though I’ve disowned your ass because I’m a bitch, uuhh I’ll think about loving you again if you go to this old ass pizza place you’ve seen me make a monster of.” And Michael/Mike was like “Oh HELL YES” and uhh… the spirits messed the FUCK up, and didn’t know it because sadly he was cursed with looking a lot like his father. Who was William. Who was a bitch.

ohohohoho

@nefarious-doctor​ [cont. from here!]

Suffering was funny, what could he say? The demon manipulated the blood as if it was magic, making a compact orb of liquid. He then bounced it up and down like it was a rubber ball, a somewhat amusing but probably horrifying sight.

“THANKS, BUDDY! I HAD A BIT TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS BODY, BUT NOW I CAN HAVE FUN WITH THE BLOOD! MY NAME IS BILL, BY THE WAY!”

Sorry I've been so quiet art wise lately ^^Here's some stuff I've been working on for my AP portfolio.

Damaged | Dan Torrance x Male!Reader

Whoo, another vent fic! I’ve been writing on it for a couple of days now and decided to quickly finish and upload it before my next zoom meeting, lol.  If you should read my ZsaszMask fics on Ao3, you will recognise that the title and subject matter are the same. That’s because I’ve vented by giving Roman my problems before. But the same problem is still plaguing me. By now, I’m legitimately scared of showering each night. So, yeah, vent fic. Which is gonna be rather specific again, ‘cause OCD and neurodermatitis.

summary; Your wounds on hands and wrists are distressing you, new intrusive thoughts appear and make it even worse. Dan is there to reassure you and just be the wonderful boyfriend that he is. 

notes; TW // Contamination OCD, Self-Harm (unintentional and implied intentional); Intrusive Thoughts (rather graphic! Be cautious, please); Bleeding wounds on hands and wrists. Male!Reader; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Neurodermatitis; Cuddling; Showering; Reassurance. 

It had been a nice day. Dan had a day off. You were home, too, but you had some work for university that you needed to get done. That work was quickly finished, though, and so you ended up on the couch together, watching some movies and just enjoying each other's company for the rest of the day. It was nice. Relaxing.

Eventually, late evening was approaching and you still needed to take a shower. It was so set in your routine, on top of medically needed, and also forced upon you by your OCD, so that you couldn't wait till morning. You hated it. You didn't want to leave Dan's side, nor did you want to shower as it was. "I can feel you're stressed. What is it, sweetheart?" Dan asked, pulling you out of your head. "Just... Showering?" You replied, a little unsure if he would get it. "Right, right," he murmured, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss on your forehead. "Is there anything I can do?" "No, I don’t think so. I'm sorry. And if I put it off any longer, it's only gonna get worse." "Alright then. I'll be right here when you get back, okay?" He kissed your forehead again, then your lips and then he gave you a little nudge to make you get up. You tried to calm yourself while you got everything ready for the shower. You didn't have to look at yourself. You were pretty good at looking up to the ceiling or just closing your eyes, when you were showering. Yet, you weren't sure if any of that would help that day. No thanks to your OCD, you excessively washed your hands too many times a day to keep count of. On top of that, you were suffering from neurodermatitis, so your skin was even more prone to splitting open and getting bloody and raw from washing it so much. And at the moment, your wrists and the backs of your hands were full of little open wounds - some even a little bigger - and dry and angry red patches of skin that looked like rashes. It all hurt a ton. Burning, pulling your skin open with each movement, stabbing pains and so forth. You wished it wasn't like that. You really did. It was upsetting. You felt like people would look at your hands and see how broken you were. How beyond repair you were. You hated it. Eventually, you got into the shower and started following your routine. It went well until you caught a glimpse of your wrists, both such an angry red, the wounds standing out like they were actively trying to get attention from people. Suddenly, your mind's eye was filled with these images. You got them a lot. Self-destructive. Hard to resist at times. Yet, those were new. They showed you how you would turn the water to its hottest level and just stand there until it scalded your skin, starting to burn it off even. They showed you how you would take a knife and just slice it all off, getting rid of the evidence. It was utterly distressing. You didn't want to do any of this. You didn't! It wouldn't make your problem any better. It would make it worse if anything. You knew that. You also knew you wouldn't follow through with it. At least you hoped you wouldn't. You weren't so sure anymore, when you noticed that the water was pretty hot already, almost unbearably so. Had you turned the handle after all? You quickly turned it to make the spray lukewarm, finished off with your routine quickly and got out of the shower. Drying yourself was hurried, so was putting on your clothes. You did your hair a little and washed your hands again, like you always did. Then you pulled the sleeves of your sleeping shirt over your hands. Out of sight, out of mind. Or so you had hoped. The thoughts, the images; they were haunting you. They played in the back of your mind, over and over again, distressing you further. You got back to the living room, to the couch, where Dan was still sitting. Immediately, his attention was on you, when you entered the room. His face had concern written all over it. So he probably felt your distress. Fuck. With a sigh, you sat down next to him again, pressing into his side. You couldn't talk, you realised, as you tried to tell him that you were okay. It would have been a lie and he would have known it, but he knew not to pressure you and to accept your lies sometimes. Dan wrapped his arms around you, pressing your face into his chest. It was calming. Reassuring. Grounding. His hands were rubbing your arm and your back respectively, soothing you. Can I do anything for you? You closed your eyes, when his low, soothing voice rang through your head. You tried so hard to think, to see past the hurt and intrusive thoughts, if there was anything he could do. But you came up empty-handed. You always did. Shaking your head, you whined. You were so fucking exhausted. Tired. Broken. Subconsciously, you had started scratching your wrists. Your neurodermatitis was triggered by distress, your skin was itching and prickling all over, but your wrists were the worst. They were burning with it. Dan put a hand over the one you were scratching yourself with and stopped it. He took your hand into yours, intertwined your fingers and squeezed it gently, reassuringly. It's okay. Should I get your lotion? You shook your head, getting up yourself instead. You needed to wash your hands before putting your lotion on them anyway. So you did just that. It hurt. Your open and bleeding wounds burned and stung. So much, so that you were forced to squeeze your eyes shut and exhale forcibly to push down the pathetic whine that tried to escape you instead. Afterwards, your sleeves were pulled over your hands again; both as to not see them and to be able to cuddle back into Dan. You hated the lotion on your forearms and hands. It was a thick, sticky layer that didn't help you in the end anyway. Dan put his arms back around you, going back to rubbing you soothingly. You noticed that he had put in one of your comfort movies without question. In thanks you nuzzled his chest, kissing it briefly. You were so tired. You would have loved to just go to sleep and leave everything behind yourself; but you knew you wouldn't be able to find any rest if you were to go to bed in such distress. When the film was over, the two of you got yourselves ready for bed and crawled under the covers eventually. Dan was spooning you from behind, one arm around your middle, the other under your neck, pillowing your head. Your legs were intertwined and one of your arms was griping onto the one he had wrapped around your waist. "Do you want to tell me what upset you?" He whispered softly, gently kissing the back of your neck. "New intrusive thoughts," you answered shortly, a frustrated sigh leaving you. He nuzzled your hair on the nape of your neck with his nose, pressing another gentle kiss on your skin. "Would you elaborate on that or would you rather forget about it for now?" "I don't know. It's just... It's about the wounds on my wrists and such. I- I'm fucking damaged, Dan. Anyone who sees these wounds will know I'm beyond repair. I just want it all gone. I want them gone. I want the skin off of me. That's- That's what these thoughts- images rather - were about. And I don't know what to do because they're so hard to resist, even though they'd only make it all so much worse." "Y/N, let me say that you are not beyond repair. Nor are you damaged. I may not be able to fully understand this particular problem you're facing, now, but I'm determined to help and support you through it." Swallowing thickly, you squeezed the arm you have been gripping the entire time, wordlessly thanking him. "And listen, darling. We'll find solutions for you, alright? I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. If you need me to shower with you, I'll do just that. If you need to talk to me before, during and - or after, I'll be there to talk to you. Even when I should not be home and at work instead, we can always talk over the phone, okay? If the thoughts should become too much and you're afraid you're gonna follow through with them, I'll be there for you and help you, okay? You're not alone, I promise you." A pause. "You're such a strong man, you know? Each day, I am so proud of you. You've come so far, despite every stone that's been placed in front of you - and you keep on going. I love you, y/n and I admire you." Tears were shining in your eyes and as so often, you couldn't fathom just what you've done to deserve an understanding and amazing boyfriend, such as Dan was. "I love you, too, Dan. Thank you. I- I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. You take my breath away and make me speechless. You know how proud of you I am - each and every day for fighting so hard, for surviving like you are. You truly amaze me, my love," you responded softly, your voice breaking a little on every other word. Dan squeezed you tightly, pressing against your back and kissing the back of neck once more. Go to sleep, my darling. I'm here. I'll protect you. You heard his voice in your head again, smiling softly as you did. Then you nodded and closed your eyes, getting comfortable. Your mind was mostly quiet for the first time this evening.