#im worried about watching myself relapse into old habits

[bloodbankzz]

ive been in a very questionable mental state recently

[burnedbyshoto]

Hey, so I guess this is kinda an emergency request. You don't have to do this if you feel uncomfortable with it but, after a good 4 months clean a relapsed a few hours ago and now in just disappointed in myself and I was wondering if you could write a small fic of Aizawa helping his student (the reader) deal with relapse. Again I completely understand if this is not something you'll do but if you do thanks in advance.

tw: self harm relapse

I don’t know what exactly you relapsed in, but be it drugs, drinking, self harm, etc. but seeing that you seem sober i’m going to assume it’s self harm. but know that I love you and am hoping for the best. I was about to go back to sleep when I saw this so, I hope you enjoy. just because you relapsed doesn’t mean you’ve lost, I know you can win.

i’m on my phone so sorry for weird formatting. also if my math is wrong it’s because I did it in my head.

platonic!aizawa x reader

warnings: cursing, tw: self harm

Four months.

122 days.

2508 hours

You had been able to keep your mind free from the entangled thorns of your past free from you skin, your lungs, your mind. You had been healthy, happier if not even a little better.

Four months ago you put away your blade for what you believed would be the last time. The scratches on your arms faded from angry reds to pale white lines that gave you forgotten memories and the bitter taste of needing to feel real.

Three months and two weeks into your determination to finally be better you felt alive. Things were on top of the world again, things felt real, things were okay. Your smiles were true, and your happiness was warm and bright.

But then on that last week things seemingly fell apart. Things were falling apart and the next thing you knew your fingers shook as you grabbed the cold metal between your fingers. You blinked and the next thing you comprehended was your blood soaked arm, and the same cold metal that glinted in the light of the bathroom.

Familiar cutting pain tingled in your arms as you sobbed.

You messed up.

You fucked up.

You were better than this!

You watched as the ruby red liquid feel down your arms and disappointment flooded your body as you turned around. You needed air, you needed to be away from yourself.

You didn’t take a jacket and you wore the worst shoes for a January night, but the coldness of nature couldn’t seem to overcome the stinging chill that was your self-hatred and depreciation. You weren’t aware of anything as you walked.

The blood trailing down your arms to drip from your fingertips were ignored. The animals that watched you from the distance were ignored. Your homeroom teacher that walked pass you in silence, ignored.

“Where’s your jacket, Y/l/n?” Aizawa’s voice called, it sounded like he was speaking through a glass door as you turned around to face him. Instinctively, you shifted your abused arm away from him, your body flinching at the feeling of the fresh wounds re-opening.

“Good evening, Aizawa-sensei,” you bowed as a smile overcame your features. He’d leave you alone soon, just had to power through this short conversation.

“What’s wrong with your arm,” he asks immediately, his eyes focused on your arm.

“Ah, see I was using my duct tape, and I accidentally scratched myself with the razor edge,” you smoothly lied despite it all. You didn’t want to tell Aizawa that you weren’t strong enough, you couldn’t handle more people being disappointed with you.

He grunted under his breathe as your eyes finally took in the trail of blood that had followed you, fuck.

“Let me see it, you’re bleeding profusely.”

double fuck.

“It’s okay, I was messing around with the cut and made it way worse on acci— HEY!”

aizawa easily pulled you in by your clean arm with his capturing device. his hands heavy, assertive, and still careful as he looked at your bloodied arm. you looked away as hot tears brimmed your eyes, he knew you gave in! you couldn’t even remember why you gave in! was he going to expel you for lack of potential and dedication as a hero?! you didn’t think you couldn’t handle that.

“was tonight your first relapse?” he asks, his tone is hard and thick with worry as a disinfecting wipe is pressed to your arm. you don’t even whimper as it stings your arm.

“...how do you know it’s a relapse?”

“im your sensei, it’s part of my job,” aizawa says but you’re unsure if he’s joking or not. “I had my assumptions when you didn’t want to partake in the pool training during the summer and chose to sat there with a hoodie on.”

your head remained low as embarrassment burned away at your skin, you really were an idiot sometimes.

“I won’t tell anyone that you relapsed,” aizawa murmured as he wrapped medical bandages around your arm. you flinched as he tugged a bit too tightly at it, and he made a sympathetic noise as he set it correctly. “depression is a hard thing, diagnosed or not it’s not something to be taken lightly. I’m sure you’re beating yourself up about this as much as I want to scold you for it. but it happened, you relapsed, you lost. it’s in the past now and old habits and comforts are hard to break. yes you gave in, but now you can start again. baby steps are okay and relapsing isn’t the end of the world. calm down, let’s figure out what caused you to break and see what we can do to find a... healthier way at expressing your negative emotions. you’ll win this war, y/l/n, I promise you that.”

tears silently dropped down your face as you stared at your teacher, and you didn’t think as you hugged him bawling. awkwardly, he embraced you too, as if he didn’t know how to comfort humans but it was more than enough for you.

“come, I’ll make you tea and you can pet my cat.”

“o-okay!”

[mrs-han]

Hello!! I see your request is open, so i was wondering could you write about jumin finding out that mc has a self harm scars? And she’s been trying not to relapse into her old habit but she’s having a hard time so it’s the only thing she can think of? Im sorry for my bad english 😅 and if you don’t want to do it, it’s okay! Don’t force yourself to write it. Thank you, oh and also i like your writings a lot! Have a good day :)

~~~

You’re too sweet, thank you so much for your request! This deals with some fairly upsetting topics!

~~~

The delicate georgette sheen from your onyx long-sleeved dress rubbed harshly against your slashed arms. Of all times to relapse, this was the worst - Jumin was a guest of honor at a new hotel inauguration, and of course, he brought you along.

Palms sweating, you pasted a friendly smile towards every patron in attendance. Frankly, you were overjoyed with your husband’s success. But with you having issues of your own... it was difficult to be in a celebratory mood.

“Mrs. Han!” A sponsor quickly made his way towards you, bringing with him several other philanthropists. Anxious, you tugged the hem of your sleeve down, experiencing a sharp pain and a subtle ooze of liquid.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you,” the older gentleman beamed, hand extended towards you. “I am Tanaka Sato, a close partner of your husband.”

Again, you plastered a fake smile across your mouth. You reached over to shake his hand and shuddered as pain radiated through your right arm. Unconsciously, you tugged at your sleeve. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tanaka.”

“It seems he has chosen a new aesthetic, entirely separate of C&R’s minimalistic design. Are you the inspiration behind this?” A chirpy young woman chimed in.

“I always consult with my wife before making any major decisions,” Jumin spoke affectionately, resting his hand on your waist and lightly tugging you close to him. “This project has been hers as much as it has been mine.”

Several of the woman blushed and whispered amongst themselves as the men took a subtle step back, aware of the power both you and Jumin exuded.

If only you felt as powerful as you looked.

“Jumin?” You flashed him a subtle look of desperation. “I need to freshen up, where’s the restroom?”

“Come with me, my love. Excuse us,” he smiled, his eyes bright and full of fondness for you, ignoring everyone else.

It still confused you, how he could look at you with so much love in his eyes. A whirlwind of emotion ravaged your stomach and chest every time he did it. Were you deserving? Certainly not. But he continued to gaze at you with more tenderness than Cupid’s gaze upon Psyche.

“Are you well?” He asked, the strong acoustic voice that overpowered the venue twenty minutes ago now a low, effete tone.

“I’m okay,” you lied. “I couldn’t find the bathroom, but I’ll be out in a minute or two! Go back to your guests!”

A lie was difficult to get past Han Jumin. But he kissed your temple and squeezed your arm - and you held back a mighty yelp.

There was a first time for everything.

“I’ll be waiting for you by the grand piano,” he hummed. “Take your time.”

After watching his withdrawing figure, you pushed the door to the ladies’ room open, flew to a stall and caught your breath before slowly unbuttoning the diamond buttons on your sleeves. Pain greeted you instantly as the cuts on your wrists throbbed unbearably, each laceration making up a heartbeat on their own.

Easing the sleeves up further, you winced. Dull maroon meshed with bright red, old droplets of blood met new. Unforgiving gashes punished you mercilessly, each slice reminding you of how stupid it was to relapse now, when things were so good. Why now? You were so beloved. So cherished. You had no goddamn reason to do this to yourself.

Choking back sobs, you recklessly pushed the stall door open and turned the faucet on. The water cold, you shoved your arms under and bit your lip, desperate to keep from crying out. Determined to keep your scars from discharging anymore blood, you scrubbed with the flat of your hand. The white of the porcelain sink and marble countertops, illuminated by the overhead lights, was now stained with red hues. You had to hurry before someone else came in - everyone knew your face. Anyone could report what they saw to Jumin, especially...

“MC?”

Jaehee.

Tears blurring your vision, you looked towards the door. Her eyes wide, she stood there, processing the scene before her. Hands shaking, you turned the faucet off and, trembling, faced her with what little courage you had left.

She continued to stand there, speechless. You had presented a fairly complicated situation to her, no doubt. Finally, she pressed her hand to the door. “There you are... I will let Mr. Han know.”

“No!” You bellowed. “Please, don’t!”

Conflicted, Jaehee hesitated. “Those cuts... they look serious. It’s best that I —”

“Jaehee,” you pleaded, tears falling down your chin. “Please. I’m begging you, don’t tell Jumin.”

Jaehee’s brows creased. “But MC... he’s worried about you. He’s been standing by the piano for over twenty minutes and now he is sending others to look for you... myself included.”

Overwhelmed and angry as more blood leaked from your opened gashes, you shouted at her. “He can’t see me like this!! Look at me!! Look!!”

Jaehee blinked and flinched slightly.

“I look disgusting!! My arms hurt, I... I can’t face him like this, Jaehee... please —”

“Have you found her, Assistant Kang?”

You didn’t have time to shield yourself. Jumin stepped through the threshold and froze in place. Completely exposed and frozen with fear, you stood before your husband like a deer in headlights.

A single drop of water falling into the ceramic of the sink was the only sound that could be heard.

“Leave us,” Jumin spoke to Jaehee, his voice trembling ever so slightly - his power slipping from him.

Obedient to the end, Jaehee agreed - leaving you stranded.

“What is this,” Jumin demanded, power seeping back to his voice.

You trembled. “Jumin...”

He moved closer to you. “Who did this to you?”

What did he mean...? His eyes trembled, moving back and forth between your arms and your eyes. Did he... not believe you could have done this to yourself? Did he not want to...?

You hung your head shamefully. There was no going back from this, no more hiding from him anymore. You felt mortified, embarrassed that he could see you like this. If only you could turn back time and...

“Give me your arm.”

You flinched - he was already so close to you and you didn’t hear him move. Refusing to look at him, you limply lifted your arm - his hand took hold, making you wince.

He turned the faucet on and ran his hand through the water, checking it’s temperature. “Come closer to the sink,” he hummed, easing you closer to the sink with his other hand on your lower back.

You shuddered as your husband cupped cool water over your wounds. His fingers stroked your burning cuts, making you wince and twitch - but he remained kind and gentle throughout.

What bothered you more than anything was his silence.

He remained focused - but quiet. Hot tears flooded your vision - he would think of you differently now. He could think you were crazy, or he would put you away in a mental ward. He wouldn’t want you anymore, not after this.

The silence dragged, second to second, minute to minute. Jumin patted your arm dry, still saying nothing.

“Jumin...” your voice trembled. “I... I —”

“Give me your other arm,” he spoke, a commanding yet tender tone overtaking his voice.

“Jumin...”

His eyes met with yours and you trembled under the weight of his sorrow. “Talk to me, darling. Please talk to me.”

You moved your hand over your mouth. What were you supposed to say...?

Jumin swallowed thickly. “Are you... are you unhappy with me?”

“No, no Jumin, not at all...!”

“Then...” he took a step toward you, cradling your elbows in the palms of his hand. “... talk to me. Dearest, these wounds look fresh... days old.”

“I...” you leaned against the sink, your legs wobbling. “There are days when... when I’m the happiest person in the world because I have a wonderful life... and I have you, you who loves me more than life itself... and yet... there are days when I’m so sad, so miserable with my own existence that I... I take my misery out on myself.”

Jumin’s thumbs stroked your abrasions, his touch so gentle that you lost any will to contain your tears. You leaned into him, hands close to your chest, and you wept.

“Come here,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and holding you firmly against him. “I’m here, darling. I’m here.”

“Of course you are,” you whispered. “You’ve always been here...”

He cradled your face in his hands, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumbs. “I want to help you, darling.” His blinked and you gasped as tears rolled down his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Jumin...”

He clutched your hands desperately, as if you would disappear without a moment’s notice. “I’ll do anything for you. I’ll sit with you and we can come up with a plan for you to stop hurting yourself. I’ll shorten my schedule at work just to hear your troubles, my love. I’ll do anything, so please. Don’t leave me. Whatever is plaguing you, we can fight it together... I won’t ever leave you to fight on your own, so please. Please.”

His knuckled whitened. His hands trembled. For the first time since you met him, you witnessed your husband so desperate to keep you by his side... and you realized that you weren’t alone anymore. For the first time in a long time, you felt a link in the chains that subdued you break and shatter... all because he loved you and wanted to help you.

No he couldn’t banish your demons all together. You didn’t expect him to. But at least this time... you weren’t alone.

“Thank you,” you pipped. “I only wish you found this out later, rather than... here, now, at this very moment. I’m afraid I ruined a really important night for you...”

Jumin carefully kissed your scarred wrist. “No businessman nor any proposition will take precedent over you, my love. Now... let’s finish cleaning you up, mm?”

Through tears, you cracked your first genuine smile of the evening. “Okay.”