Comte X Reader - Tumblr Posts
Chasing demons away
Requested by: @coldjudgestudentdeputy - Hello! I just want to say that your stories give me so much comfort and I am grateful for your writing. Could I request a comfort fic for Ikemen Vampire Comte with a self harming S/O. You don’t know how much you reading has helped me! Thank you so much! Much Love ❤️❤️❤️
Pairing: le Comte de Saint-Germain x reader
Warnings: selfharm, suicidal intentions, lots and lots of angst, gore
A/N: Thank you again for being so sweet dear! You’ve got no idea how happy that made me and how honoured I feel that I can continue to bring you comfort. I hope I did a good job... Also, I wrote the reader as gender neutral, if you’d like me to change it, just ask ;) I’ll be glad to write something for you again if you’d need. Sending lots of strength through this post!
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Everybody has bad days, there is no shame in that. Sometimes you just feel under the weather, be it for one reason or another. But when this feeling just doesn’t want to go away, and days turn into weeks, which turn into months, it becomes a problem.
When you became Comte’s partner, he assured you that you no longer had to work alongside Sebastian if you didn’t want to. That was of course unthinkable, not only would you feel extremely guilty for putting extra work on the poor man’s shoulders, you liked your job at the mansion. And quite frankly, you didn’t know what else you would do. Let’s be honest, it’s not like you could really pursue a career in 19th century... And sure, you had your hobbies, but you certainly couldn’t compare to the likes of your housemates. At least, that’s what you thought.
Abandoning your old life was not an easy decision, but certainly not one you regretted. Most of the time that is. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel insecure. Sometimes, thoughts of doubt would haunt and taunt you, whispering delicately in your ears how you don’t belong and how foolish you are for giving up your life to a man for who you are just a spec in his never ending life.
Now, both you and Comte were busy people. Running a mansion and looking after it were not easy tasks, but you knew that whenever you needed it, you could rely on your lover, even when your thoughts made you want to turn the other way, just so he wouldn’t be worried. But he knew what sadness looks like, he knew it better than anyone, and seeing your eyes clouded by the emotion clawed at his old soul. When your thoughts were especially loud, it took him one look at your face to know just exactly what’s wrong. He would take you to his room or at least somewhere where you two could be alone, tugged you close to him and held you as long as you needed. No matter how hard it was, you two were always able to chase away those demons of yours and in those moments did you truly know that you loved him and he loved you.
But no matter how many times did your lover chase those monstrous thoughts away, they always came back. It started out small, barely noticeable. One day, the moment you opened your eyes, it was like a heavy blanket was draped across your soul. It made the world seem gray and blank. Without thinking much of it, you went about your day as usual.
The first one to call you out on your unusual behaviour was Vincent at breakfast “Is somehing wrong (Y/N)?” You were puzzled, was there something wrong? After shaking your head in confusion, the painter elaborated “Your eyes don’t shine as usual.” he said and looked at you with worried eyes. You smiled at him, despite how unnatural the action felt to you “I guess it’s just a bad day. I’ll be fine,”
Turns out Vincent wasn’t the only one who noticed the change. Dazai mentioned you weren’t smiling as usual and Sebastian pointed out how quiet you are. On one hand you felt flattered that they noticed such a small detail about you, but a small voice in your head whispered “Look how worried you make them.”
The next days weren’t any better. But you were determined to not make anyone worried. For a while, it seemed to work. You concentrated on your daily tasks and dodged every question with “I’m fine.” and the best smile you could muster up. But it seemed the blanket didn’t want to be lifted at all. Every day you woke up more tired than before and pretending you were fine just so you wouldn’t worry anyone was becoming harder and harder each day.
It was not long before Comte noticed how your eyes weren’t clouded by just any sadness, but weighed down by immense pain. He questioned you about it, but you were stubborn, one of your traits he oh so loved about you, but now it did more harm than good. Through careful prodding he got out of you that you were indeed not fine, but didn’t wish to talk about it. That it was for his sake you didn’t say out loud, he didn’t need to know that.
Time passed and all the residents became quite worried for you. Whenever they approached you, asking how you were and if you would like to maybe go out, all you could see was the worry in their eyes. “You’re not doing well enough!” your mind tormented you “They shouldn’t have to worry about you, they have enough problems already!” And so the only rational thing in that moment was to isolate yourself even more. You were hurting, and just because you refused to share your pain with the others, you still needed an outlet.
“Ma chérie, do you know where is my razor?” Comte asked you from the bathroom attached to his room. “No idea, mon cher.” you answered innocently, but you couldn’t help the guilt that swirled in your gut at that lie. You really didn’t want to steal from your lover, the idea itself horrible and the act even worse, but there was no other way. You would take care of this problem, one way or another. “Oh well, seems I’ve lost it.” Comte made a mental note to ask Sebastian to buy him a new one once he’ll go out for groceries “I’ll be in my study, if you need me.” he gave you a kiss on the forehead and left you in the bedroom. Alone.
It was late in the afternoon when you finally got back to the room you shared with your lover. Dark thoughts plagued your mind the whole day and you were anxiously anticipating this moment. Slowly and carefully you took out the razor your lover ‘lost’ this morning. You sat on your side of the bed, eyes roaming the shining object in your hand. You slowly put one of your hands on your thigh, wrist facing up and brought the tip of the razor to your wrist. “Now or never.” your mind ordered.
Slice.
That... That wasn’t so bad. You haven’t done this in a long while, but it surprized you how easy it was. You could already feel the pressure easing away from your body, your eyes set on the cut that was quickly becoming darker with your blood. But it wasn’t enough. “Only one cut? What are you, a coward? Make it at least four!” the voice ordered. And you complied.
Soon, your whole wrist was covered in blood. As you came down from the high, you started panicking. How were you going to hide this from everyone?? They’d be so disappointed if they found out, you thought. “Or you could just finish the job.” your mind whispered. You knew where the artery in your hand was. How easy would it be to just slice it pen and let the river of blood flow out? You wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore. Nobody would have to worry about you anymore. Comte could find someone more stable than you. It’s what he deserved anyway...
The tip of the razor moved towards the outer side of your wrist. You were so numb that it almost felt like it moved on its own. Just as you began pressing down, a familiar voice interrupted your actions “Put the blade down ma chérie.”
Comte was pleased to find out that it had been only the afternoon when he was done with his work. He didn’t have to go to Sebastian immediately then. He got up and started walking to his room, to search for his lost razor for the last time. Now he wished he lost it.
Just as he opened the door, the strong scent of blood hit his nose like a slap to the face. Eyes quickly searched the room and to his horror, he found you sitting on the bed, his razor in your hand, fresh cuts on your wrist. You didn’t seem to notice him, eyes fixed on your wrist, the tip of the blade slowly moving towards a place where nothing sharp should ever touch you.
“Put the blade down ma chérie.” he softly called out to you, closing the door quietly behind him as he took a few steps forward. One wrong move and he could lose you. And he didn’t want to risk that. You whirled around to face him, eyes widened in panic, mouth opened a bit. Tears were streaming down your face, the sight so painful to him that it brought some into his own. He repeated his request. You didn’t budge, but Comte saw your grip on the blade tightening.
“Come on, you’re already this far, surely you’re not gonna chicken out?” your mind questioned, its voice turning sour and screechy instead of the honeyed murmurs you were used to. You hesitated. Oh but your lover’s eyes shone with tears and i them you saw desperation. For once he dropped his mask, allowed you and only you to see, truly see, just how much he needed you. You saw fear, and love and sadness so deeply rooted within him and it made your heart tear apart. You swore to yourself once that you’d be there for him, that he didn’t have to be alone anymore.
And so once again, your lover won over your ill mind. No matter how painful life would become, he would always come first. You dropped the wicked torture tool, which clanked loudly against the floor, staining it with your blood. It took you both only a few steps to meet each other at the foot of your bed. Comte didn’t hesitate to wrap you in his arms, holding you tighter than ever before, not caring that his clothes would get dirty, because how could he ever get mad at you?
As you held each other close you heard his quiet, almost completely inaudible sniffles. You pulled away from him a bit and cradled his face in your hands, wiping his tears away “Please don’t cry mon cher. I’m so sorry.”
Holding you close with one hand, he placed his other on the back of your head and peppered your face with gentle kisses and you smiled sadly at the gesture. Only when every inch of your skin received the love it deserved he pulled away “Please, please don’t leave me. After you stole my heart I promised myself I’d never let you go. I couldn’t bear to lose you, to be alone again.” You nodded your head in confirmation, guilt heavy on your chest again. “I can’t promise that everything will be alright, but you have to believe that I am here for you, whenever you may need me. Please, I am your lover, don’t ever hesitate to come to me.” “But, you shouldn’t have to-” you wanted to argue, but Comte pressed his pointer finger against your lips “You’ve helped me so much. I am a better man thanks to you. You support me, it’s only fair I support you too.” And even though your mind still didn’t quiet down, even it couldn’t find an argument against that.
After that, Comte quickly brought a first aid kit to his room and tended to your wounds. He took the rest of the day and night to show you just how much deserving of love and support you are and how much you truly mean to him.