#i did not re-read this whatsoever ajdbdbdb but fuck it we BALL

[earthry]

tw: angst, hurt/comfort, reader not knowing how to direct anger and lashing out as a result during an emotional breakdown, self harm mention, please take care you are loved!

you’re inconsolable when copia finds you, the room a mess from bouts of anger that you don’t know how to release any other way except the way you were taught growing up. a scared kid watching their parents. watching and hurting and watching until they too, destroy anything and everything around them until there is nothing left. 

perhaps if you claw at your throat until you can finally breathe again, or dig your nails into the fleshy meat of your thighs or stomach or face you hate so much, you’ll be okay again. the anger will go again, a beast ready for slumber.

arms encircle around you and for a second you struggle, hands pushing against a firm chest, strangled screeches and ugly sobs torn from your throat, but he doesn’t let go.

you beat his chest, you spit his name back at him, you call him names. you say the shit that hurts, the shit you have no right to hold against him, the shit you know hurts because you were always going to hurt him anyways, right? that’s all you’re good for, all you know how to do. 

his arms tighten a little but he doesn’t let go.

he’s talking the whole time, his voice never wavering except for once, and never ever losing that gentleness. even with your barbs of wire and claws you dig into his heart he holds tight. 

everything’s going to be okay, he says. it’s okay to be upset, it’s okay to be angry, he says.

it’s a mantra, one he echoes again and again until you finally collapse into his arms with a wail. 

he’s still soft, still kind as he holds you. apologies fall from your lips, slightly hysterical and a hundred percent guilty. 

it’s okay, he says, you’re okay. I’m not mad, I’m not upset, he says. i know you’re hurting, he says.

he presses a kiss against your temple and it feels like forgiveness.

you can let go now, because copia is there to catch you. his voice washes over you in a comforting wave and he gathers you into his arms.

he’ll take good care of you, getting you washed up and helping you if you’re too worn out or tired to bathe yourself. will make sure to get some comfort food or at least a favorite snack in you before taking you to snuggle in bed to your heart’s content. he won’t mind if you don’t feel like talking or if you want to talk or cry or scream some more.

if you’d prefer there to be silence, he’ll work and love you silently, but if you do want noise however, he’ll talk to you— babble away with what his day was like, what the ghouls have been up to. ramble on and on about how proud of you he is, how everything will be okay, how strong you are.

and most importantly, how loved you are.

[belialsbin]

tw: angst, hurt/comfort, reader not knowing how to direct anger and lashing out as a result during an emotional breakdown, self harm mention, please take care you are loved!

you’re inconsolable when copia finds you, the room a mess from bouts of anger that you don’t know how to release any other way except the way you were taught growing up. a scared kid watching their parents. watching and hurting and watching until they too, destroy anything and everything around them until there is nothing left. 

perhaps if you claw at your throat until you can finally breathe again, or dig your nails into the fleshy meat of your thighs or stomach or face you hate so much, you’ll be okay again. the anger will go again, a beast ready for slumber.

arms encircle around you and for a second you struggle, hands pushing against a firm chest, strangled screeches and ugly sobs torn from your throat, but he doesn’t let go.

you beat his chest, you spit his name back at him, you call him names. you say the shit that hurts, the shit you have no right to hold against him, the shit you know hurts because you were always going to hurt him anyways, right? that’s all you’re good for, all you know how to do. 

his arms tighten a little but he doesn’t let go.

he’s talking the whole time, his voice never wavering except for once, and never ever losing that gentleness. even with your barbs of wire and claws you dig into his heart he holds tight. 

everything’s going to be okay, he says. it’s okay to be upset, it’s okay to be angry, he says.

it’s a mantra, one he echoes again and again until you finally collapse into his arms with a wail. 

he’s still soft, still kind as he holds you. apologies fall from your lips, slightly hysterical and a hundred percent guilty. 

it’s okay, he says, you’re okay. I’m not mad, I’m not upset, he says. i know you’re hurting, he says.

he presses a kiss against your temple and it feels like forgiveness.

you can let go now, because copia is there to catch you. his voice washes over you in a comforting wave and he gathers you into his arms.

he’ll take good care of you, getting you washed up and helping you if you’re too worn out or tired to bathe yourself. will make sure to get some comfort food or at least a favorite snack in you before taking you to snuggle in bed to your heart’s content. he won’t mind if you don’t feel like talking or if you want to talk or cry or scream some more.

if you’d prefer there to be silence, he’ll work and love you silently, but if you do want noise however, he’ll talk to you— babble away with what his day was like, what the ghouls have been up to. ramble on and on about how proud of you he is, how everything will be okay, how strong you are.

and most importantly, how loved you are.