#was something that really made me think about my depression and struggle with suicide

[javiersprincess]

i think forever the saddest thing about the tlou games is ellie seeing joel’s house after his death. the unmade bed, dirty dishes and unfinished laundry. the pictures of his family - tommy, sara and ellie. his guitar and the unfinished wood carving. his reading glasses and the texas decor. all the the shouts of ellie’s presence in his life ; the drawing of him, the book from the museum and the space book for dummies are not echos that haunt that house. its so painstakingly real of what its like when someone dies it hurts to think about, the evidence that someone was there but isn’t anymore.

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (12)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 

tags/warnings. depression, mentions of cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships, illnesses

notes. 11k wc. finally. i wrote this with only one eye open so please don't mind the inconsistencies, i'm trying my best to tie any loose ends before we reach the ending. if the writing feels rushed, it’s bcos i’m just ready to wrap up this series 😭

series masterlist -> episode thirteen

You thought everything that had happened last night was just a dream. 

Because you had gotten used to the constant disappointments and vicissitudes of your life, sharing such domestic bliss with the person you loved had started to feel far-fetched for you. It had become an unachievable fantasy, a colorful delusion created by your mind to conceal the actual darkness of pain that surrounded it. 

But as you opened your eyes that morning, the familiar warmth of a sleeping Satoru’s embrace was the reality you never saw coming. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, it all felt surreal—like a fragile dream teetering on the edge of shattering. You wondered if it would be okay to stay here for now. To forget about the rest of the damn world and remain in his arms, staring at his beautiful saintly face, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat.

When Satoru stirred from his sleep, you knew your daydream was over. But he was pulling you dangerously close with arms wrapped around your frame and his lips pressed against your forehead. He was only half-awake, it seemed. His long white lashes reminded you of Sachiro’s as you watched him mumble incoherent words from his sleep, something along the lines of, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Akemi’. 

That was your cue to pull yourself away from him. With guilt now coursing through your body, you sat up from bed and covered your naked body with the duvet. Akemi. You had completely abandoned the thought of Akemi last night, and now you were here in bed with ‘supposedly’ her man. As much as your heart was in bliss from last night’s events, the dark and cold reality was that you slept with a man who wasn’t yours. It was a principle you told yourself you would never cross, but everything concerning Satoru Gojou seemed to be bringing you to that. 

“Satoru, hey.” Your voice almost came out as a plea as you shook his arm, your guilt eating at you with every minute that passed. “Wake up.” 

His eyelashes fluttered as he struggled to open his eyes, blinded by the sunlight that gleamed through the window as he stretched his arms and looked at you. “Y/N?” he softly whispered, a hand tenderly placed on your back as he scooted closer. “What’s wrong?” 

Slight disbelief blanketed your gaze. “You think this isn’t wrong?” 

Satoru let out a sigh of exasperation, pulling his head back, and covering his eyes with a hand as if last night’s events played through his mind scene to scene. He was obviously caught in a mindwreck thinking about the girl he had just cheated on. “It shouldn’t be,” he mumbled, “But it feels like it.”

“So you do regret it,” you laughed at your own words, internally in pain. 

“I didn’t say that.” He finally pulled himself back up, sitting as he pulled you towards him. “Y/N, if we really thought last night was wrong, we would have stopped after the first time.” He shook his head at the irony. “Look, it’s on me, alright? I put you in this situation.” 

“And I allowed it,” you argued, “I allowed it, Satoru. It makes me feel dirty. I feel like, like I’m wrecking someone else’s home. It’s not me.” 

Satoru held his breath, a look of hesitation dawning on his face as he realized that this wasn’t just a dream of his. It was pure and raw reality that he had made a mistake that he could never undo. While thinking it through, he rubbed his eyes and sat up, leaning against the headboard as he assessed the situation. Then, he looked at you, his expression softening as he spoke, “No, not your fault. It’s just complicated,” he insisted, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who owes ‘Kemi an apology.” 

Each time you heard her nickname from him was a punch to your gut. And each silent cuss that left his lips was an arrow to your heart. So you put it on yourself to accept his reaction. “It’s okay. You can be honest and say last night was a mistake.”

“No, no, no. I didn’t say that,” he replied quickly, reaching out to take your hand. 

But you already stood up from the bed, clutching the duvet around your body like a shield against the encroaching chill. Your throat felt tight, and tears threatened to spill, but you fought to keep them at bay. Satoru’s gaze followed you with an expression of helplessness, as if he was struggling to bridge the gap between his rights and wrongs.

As you turned to face him, a knot of frustration and heartache tangled within you. “So, what now?” you asked, trying your hardest to keep your composure. “How are we gonna fix this, Satoru? How?”

Before he could answer, the door to the cabin suddenly burst open, and Akemi stood in the doorway with her eyes wide with shock and fury. The confrontation followed as soon as she caught you in a compromising position with Satoru, and the words she uttered next were ones you least expected from her. 

“You’re a hypocrite! You’ve become the person you despised the most when you were married.” 

“You’re no better than Sera! And that’s why you’re miserable, and you’ll forever be miserable! If this is your way of getting back at me..” 

“Then jokes on you, because Satoru will never be faithful to you. He’ll keep cheating on you, just like he did now with me! You two belong in that cycle!”

You felt like an outsider in your own heartbreak, the confrontation intensifying as you tried to process the bitter truth in silence. All you could do was stand there and cry. Even Satoru’s attempts to placate Akemi were futile as her anger only seemed to grow. The more her eyes danced back and forth between you and her lover, the more she wanted to destroy everything in her path.

Satoru’s face was indiscernible from where you stood. “Akemi, please, just listen—”

Akemi, however, was already turning on her heel and storming back into her cabin while eliciting loud, muffled sobs. Your chest tightened with sorrow and shame. Complete, utter shame of doing this to another woman. How could you even correct a situation like this? How could you pick yourself back up after you just trampled on another woman’s feelings because of your actions?

Satoru, like you, hesitated on his next move, his eyes meeting yours with a look of anguish. “I need to talk to her, Y/N. I’ll be back.”

Without waiting for your response, he already bolted after her, leaving you alone in a quiet, pathetic state. The door slammed behind him, the sound reverberating through the cabin like thunder in a heavy storm.

You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to face everyone, didn’t have the guts to even talk to Shoko and Suguru who now both have to deal with such scandals. You were too ashamed of yourself, as if your femininity had been stripped off its rights after you slept with the man you swore you would never get back with. 

“I didn’t mean it,” you could only silently whisper your laments, pacing around your cabin while swallowing the weakness that tried to escape. “I hate this.” 

The minutes dragged on, and each second stretched into an eternity as you waited for Satoru’s return. For now, you sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, wondering what excuse he was telling Akemi, and what actions he would do to try and calm her down. Did he kiss her, perhaps? Did he cup her face and tell her that you were nothing but a mistake? What was taking him so long? Or were they doing things to try and erase the same deeds you two did last night? 

The cacophony of voices and commotion from outside the cabin grew louder, and your curiosity led you to open your door, meeting the eyes of one of the hotel staff who sent you a look full of judgment. 

“Where’s…” you hesitated if she was the right person to ask, “Where’s Satoru? Would you know?” 

“Oh, ma’am. He already left the hotel half an hour ago… with Miss Akemi.” 

Her answer hit you hard like a truck on a highway. And your heart dropped as you realized who became The Fool in these deck of cards. Satoru had not only run off after Akemi, but had also left you behind without a word. 

The room felt colder now, the once-intimate sanctuary you shared with your ex-husband now a prison of your own grief. Even the familiar warmth of the bed seemed like a distant memory as you approached it, your body trembling as you thought of how you were treated like a dirty rag, thrown away after being used over and over again. 

With a soft, choked sob, you collapsed onto the bed, the duvet still a tangled mess from earlier. And your emotions, so tightly restrained, finally broke free. You pulled the blanket around you as if it could shield you from the crushing pain. The betrayal, the sense of being discarded for another—it all converged into a torrent of anguish. All you could do was cling to the duvet as if it were the only anchor in a stormy sea. 

——

Returning home didn’t make the situation any better. 

Although you tried to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be waiting on Satoru to contact you, you still found yourself checking your phone multiple times a day. Each second that passed without hearing from him was another stab to your heart. But it shouldn’t feel like that. It shouldn’t, not when Satoru clearly made his choice of choosing yet another woman over you. 

Of course, you knew what you did was wrong. In everyone’s eyes, sleeping with someone else’s man was unforgivable. There was no excuse, no way to justify your actions. Even if some people might side with you, saying you owed no one loyalty, it didn’t change how you felt about the whole situation. And that was because you remembered all too well the pain of being cheated on, and letting another woman endure the same heartbreak and betrayal was a weight on your conscience that you couldn’t ignore.

Sighing, you turned to the left side of the bed and saw Sachiro sleeping peacefully, clutching his favorite starfish plushie in his tiny arms. The thought of losing your son was unbearable, especially when he was your only source of calm amid the chaos that surrounded you. Caring for him was your solace, and his innocent presence served as a band-aid for your wounded heart. The most heart-wrenching part of this was knowing you couldn’t even repay him for the stability he brought you. Sachiro deserved a complete family to enrich his life, yet you—as his own biological mother—were unable to give him that. 

“Sleep tight, Sachi.” You lightly stroked his white hair before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

The past few weeks had been a blur of emotions, work, and parenting—with each day blending into the next like a tornado of dull colors. You still hadn’t heard from Satoru, but the days of waiting and checking your phone for any notification from him did gradually stop. The only thing that didn’t stop replaying in your head like a broken record was the cabin incident, the very night that drew all these overthinking in your mind and in your heart. 

Returning to work did provide some distraction, but it didn’t take away the sting. It also didn’t help that your staff noticed the change in your demeanor, and how distracted you often were during your meetings and warehouse visits. Even Nobara was worried about how absentminded you had become, but you brushed off all their concerns with a forced smile. After all, staying at home would do you worse than being at work. 

Now, you were back in your office, and the soft knock on the door cut you off from your trance. It was Yuki peeking through the small opening on your door, her usual professional demeanor softened by a concerned expression. “Hey, Y/N. Do you have a minute?” she asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her with a quiet click. 

You nodded, trying to muster a smile. “Sure, Yuki. What’s up?”

“I wanted to check in on you,” she began, taking a seat opposite your desk, “If you need to extend your vacation, please, by all means, go ahead. It’s off-season, anyway. I’ll take care of everything here while you’re focusing on yourself.”

That wasn’t really a good idea. And you shouldn’t be slacking off work when this very fashion house you establish used to be your passion, not your job. Yet here you were, losing all the inspiration to even run a business. “I don’t know if I have the energy for anything else right now.”

“Well, if you’re too worried about leaving work,” Yuki continued, her tone shifting to a more business-like note, “the progress we’ve made with Hearte is looking really promising. The new collection is getting great feedback, and our upcoming showcase is shaping up well. We’re on track for a strong quarter.”

“All because of you, Yuki.” A spark of gratitude appeared on your face. “Thanks for the update. It’s good to know things are moving in the right direction.”

She then stood up and gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m here if you need anything, Y/N. But seriously, take some time for yourself. You deserve it.”

On that same evening, you came home to your father’s mansion, and the first thing that greeted you when you entered the foyer was Gen sitting by the living room. And needless to say, her expression was a mix of concern and frustration as if she had been waiting for you to return. You weren’t really in the mood to have some back-and-forths with her, but you also didn’t like how she dropped her phone on the table and crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing at you like she was a mother who could scold you like a child.

“I’m not even gonna say anything at this point, but did you really do it with him?” Gen’s voice was low, but the disappointment was palpable. You could feel it from a few meters away. 

“What are you talking about?” you bit back, your already-terrible mood swings shifting into an unhealthy direction. 

Gen responded by pointing at her phone, gesturing for you to take a look at whatever’s on it. Reluctantly, you grabbed the device, and as you were scrolling through the screen, you stumbled upon a blind item circulating on social media. The words were vague but pointed, hinting at a scandalous encounter between two ex-spouses, both of whom were well-known figures. Great. Your heart stopped as you realized that the article was very much about you and Gojou. 

The online comments were brutal, not like you weren’t used to anonymous harassment anyway, but these ones were full of speculating and judging without knowing the full story. Everyone also seemed to be siding with “Ms. A” instead of you as though the person behind the article was clearly trying to paint you as the villain. It was written for the purpose of destroying your reputation rather than any regular exposé, and whoever wrote it was definitely someone who disliked you. 

Your shoulders slumped as you scrolled through hate comment after hate comment, a seemingly endless vitriol for someone they didn’t even know, and avoided your sister’s gaze knowing full well that seeing her expression would only make you feel worse. 

“Is it true?” your sister asked like there was even an ounce of chance that it was simply a rumor. Unfortunately, it was anything but. 

Sliding her phone back on the coffee table, you drew in a deep breath. “I can’t undo it, Gen. It happened.” 

“So, you did sleep with him? Am I hearing this right?” Gen sighed, rubbing her temples. “Do you have any idea what this could do to you? To Sachiro? People are ruthless, and now this blind item is all over the place and they’re targeting you like a punching bag!”

Your mouth felt heavy, as if it was weighed down by an invisible burden, making it difficult to form words or speak. And before you could think of a response, Ian became your temporary savior as he walked in with a calm but serious mien. “I’ve seen the post,” he said, holding up his phone. “It’s clearly defamatory, and we can take legal action. I’ll handle it.”

Even though Ian was a man of remarkable phlegm, you remained abashed, knowing that everyone’s feasting at the juicy rumor that you slept with your ex-husband. Yet, the only thing you could do was to put on a front. To save face. To act like someone you’re not. “Thank you, Ian. I’d appreciate that.”

Anticipating another lecture from Gen about Satoru, you began retreating to your room with your footsteps bouncing desperately on the grand staircase. This conversation was done. You just weren’t there to hear it anymore. However, as you climbed the stairs with a vacant mind, you could still hear your sister calling out to you.

“Y/N!” she called, her voice now tinged with concern. “I’m not going to give you a hard time. We can sort this issue out. Maturely.”

“I’m good.” Sorry, Gen. It was the anxious-avoidant side of you speaking. You didn’t want to discuss such a sensitive situation to anyone, even with your sister, because you weren’t ready to face all the negativity it would put you through. You were already dealing with enough, and going through yet another emotional turmoil might actually put you to your deathbed at this point. 

So, for now, isolating yourself from the world was the best choice. 

And as soon as you entered your room, you saw Sachiro’s nanny tucking him into bed. All your worries and self-destructive thoughts vanished in an instant the moment you looked at your son. It was like the heavens gave you your personal angel, a cute little cherub who brought nothing but light and happiness to your life. He was your sunshine, your shooting star, your bundle of joy. Nothing in this world could erase the pessimist in you than little Sachiro. 

“I got it from here.” You thanked the nanny and asked her to close the door before quickly joining your son in bed, wrapping him in a warm, comforting hug—more for your own comfort than his.

“Mama?” he asked, his voice unusually raspy, and his chest rising and falling heavily. “I mwiss you, mama!”

You pressed your lips onto his forehead. “I miss you too, my baby. How was daycare today?”

He seemed to struggle to speak too, but Sachiro still did his best to recount his day while he was trying to catch air in between his sentences. “Teacher ask Sachi to go home, mama. Sachi is tired.”

“Baby, are you okay? Are you sick?” Now, your motherly instincts kicked in immediately. You could tell something was wrong, so you reached for a thermometer from the bedside drawer to check his temperature, and listened to his breathing at the same time. “What happened to Sachi? Do you want Mommy to take you to the hospital?”

Sachiro shook his head and gave you a sleepy smile. “No, mama. Sachi is just sweepy.”

When the thermometer beeped, you were relieved to see that his temperature was normal. “Are you having trouble breathing, my sweetheart?” You looked into his droopy eyes and gently placed your hand on his chest. 

Once again, Sachiro shook his head. Maybe you were just overthinking. He often ran around the house or played in the bathtub before bed, which could explain why he seemed out of breath. It wasn’t the first time it happened. 

“Okay, Sachi. Go to sleep now. Close your eyes, baby.”

“Night night, mama.”

For now, you turned off the night lamp, and headed to the bathroom in silent and careful steps. It was quiet enough indeed, but in your head was an awful noise you couldn’t escape. And stepping into the shower only increased the warfare in your mind, as it immediately brought images of Satoru and Akemi back in the cabin, the harsh comments from the article, and the lack of contact from your ex-husband which all overwhelmed you at once. By now, he would have already seen that article. Nanami or Miwa might have already alerted him about it. But the fact that he said nothing, the fact that he let the public scrutinize you, destroy you with such vile, hurtful words behind their screens brought you a kind of pain that you wouldn’t wish upon anyone else. 

Because if it was Akemi in that position, he would have defended her in a heartbeat. 

So in your silence, under the cascading water of the shower, you let the tears flow—its warmth distinguishable compared to the cold droplets falling on you. If only you had successfully drowned yourself that night at the lake. If only Satoru didn’t pull you back in, none of this would have happened. 

That moment was deeply poignant to you, and you saw him in a new light you thought you would never see again because of the darkness of your past. Yet, with the events that followed your special moment, memories eventually turned into spite. Your sweet exchange twisted into something bitter. Looking back at that time when he kissed you at the lake now made you feel nauseous and hollow inside, with bile forming on your throat and threatening to be retched. 

The most gut-wrenching part about this was the fact that there wasn’t anyone left who could rescue you from this abyss of heartache anymore. 

——

There had been a sense of detachment in your emotions in the following days that passed, almost as though they belonged to a stranger inhabiting your body. Toji, the only person who comforted you at times like these, was no longer by your side to fulfill the warmth you once desperately sought, and now you were alone to face this cruel, mind-numbing battle all by yourself. It was you against the world. You against the entire populace inhabiting this living hell. And with that many enemies against one, how could you win? 

It was quite funny, actually, that your humor took a surprising turn when you thought of how Sera must have felt when it was revealed to the public that she was Satoru’s mistress. The irony didn’t even stop at your thoughts alone, it manifested itself outside Hearte’s headquarters, wearing a pink puffer jacket and a white prairie skirt. 

“Sera?” you blurted out her name in wonder, nonplussed as you got out of the car to approach her.

“Hey, Y/N.” She offered a casual smile while carrying an air of sophistication around her. That wasn’t the only thing that changed about Sera. Her hair was also shorter than the last you saw her, her face now sporting a more natural makeup, and her outfit a more modest yet classy choice. It was no longer the Sera who tried hard to fit in amongst the upper echelon of society, but a Sera who seemed to be satisfied at her current standing in life. 

What an awkward encounter. Was her presence your hypocritical reminder for sleeping with Satoru behind Akemi’s back? 

“What are you doing here?” you asked. 

And she answered with, “I read about what happened. You know, the thing on the internet.” She took a moment to pause, probably trying to choose the right words to say to her previous adversary. Because in a way, you two weren’t exactly friends. And you were no longer rivals either. Satoru was the only common denominator here, and Sera proved her exact sentiments about him by saying, “I just wanted to let you know that I understand your side. It’s a tough situation.”

You looked at her, searching for any hint of insincerity, but found none. “You were once on my spot,” you pointed out and gauged whether or not she would take the bait. For all you know, she could be putting on an act. “I’m assuming you’re here to rub it in my face how much of a hypocrite I am.” 

“No, that’s not it.” Sera was vehemently denying any malice on her intentions, and was instead trying to show you the sympathy of a woman who was once caught in the same predicament. “Look, I know it’s weird that I’m here out of all people. But the truth is, I just had to let you know that someone’s on your side. I’ve met the girl, okay? That… whoever she is. I don’t remember her name, and I hate having to pit two women against each other, but I’m telling you it’s about time you cut Satoru off your life. Completely. She doesn’t look like someone who’d easily let go. You’re just gonna suffer, Y/N.” 

Perhaps three years was too far back in your life and that tables could turn in a direction that you didn’t expect, as you could recall fragments of memories from when your only dilemma was dealing with Satoru and Sera in your marriage. She used to be besotted with your ex-husband back then. But now, it wasn’t until you heard the way she spoke about him that you realized she must be harboring a grudge deeper than you had imagined. After all, he did ruin her life in ways you couldn’t imagine. And her advice, though unsolicited, made sense. Because you could understand where she was going with it. You could see the true intentions clearly conveyed by her face.

The only problem here was that you didn’t have it in your heart to agree with her. You were too much of an empathic person to be taking sides, even if the supposed villain in this painting was the ex-husband who, time and time again, hurt you. Your heart stubbornly cared for Satoru deep down, and your wifely instinct of defending him no matter how poorly he acted had always been there. No one could hate Satoru more than you did, that was true, but you also weren’t very accepting of hearing others describe him as this ruthless, cheating bastard. 

That was the reason why talking to Gen had eventually exhausted you. Because no one knew the real Satoru Gojou behind his facade of an irresponsible and reckless husband. 

“Now that you’re here…” The idea to redirect the conversation to another topic struck you, unwilling to engage in a conversation that pushed Satoru in a bad light. “Would you be interested in being a model for our upcoming campaign? We’re launching a new collection, and I think you’d be perfect.”

Sera’s eyes were an amalgam of confusion and surprise. “Uh, I mean… I’d love to, but why so sudden?” 

“You have the face for it.” You shrugged, but still sent a smile her way. “Are you working right now? If not, this could open doors for you to be discovered by modeling agencies. I’m closely tied with them since I work in the fashion industry, so I can do a few calls if you want.” 

“Hold on, I’m—” Sera touched her head, laughing as if she were dreaming this conversation. “Y/N, you’re doing too much here. I mean, I’d obviously love that, but wouldn’t it be awkward? People know me as your ex-husband’s mistress, and if they recognize me in Hearte ads, I’m sure as hell those fuck ass netizens won’t stop talking about it.”

She had a point, a very good point, but then again, your suggestion was only brought up because you had to change the topic. “Well, it’s just an offer to consider in the future.” 

“And I appreciate you always extending a hand to help me even if I did you wrong in the past,” she said, feelings of shame lacing her voice. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for my brother, that’s why I’m here. I’m not your enemy anymore, Y/N.”

Just then, the roaring engine of a classic red Ferrari pulled up to the curb, interrupting the unexpected conversation you were having with your ex-husband’s former mistress. The window rolled down to reveal a pink-haired man whom you recognized as Ryomen Sukuna, an up and coming tech mogul, that Toji had mentioned about many times before. His eyes were only on one woman alone, and it wasn’t you. “Ready to go, babe?”

Honestly, good for Sera. No wonder her aura had become different. They seemed to be in a stable committed relationship, something that you could only ever dream about. If karma was truly real, this was the perfect example for it. 

In the back seat, you spotted a younger boy who looked exactly like Sukuna and, surprisingly, Megumi, the son of your ex-fiancé. Really? How many more people were you going to ‘coincidentally’ run into today? 

“Hello, miss!” the other boy called out cheerfully, while Megumi offered a polite nod. You replied with a wave, feeling a small sense of normalcy in their innocent presence.

“I gotta get going, Y/N,” excused Sera, gesturing a civil goodbye. 

But as she moved to get into the car, your phone buzzed in your pocket. A single glance at the screen made your heart drop. It was a call from the hospital.

“Hello?” you answered almost immediately, pressing the phone on your ears with a tight push.

“Ms. Y/N, this is the hospital. Your son, Sachiro Gojou, is in the ICU. We need you to come as soon as possible.”

Your stomach contracted into a tight ball as you stood rigid with terror. Then and there, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. “Wh-What do you mean he’s in the hospital?!” you managed to shout, swept by horripilation from the sudden news. “What happened to my son?! What’s—!” 

Sera’s concerned gaze met yours as you desperately yelled into the phone, hyperventilating. Your trembling hand was threatening to drop the phone. “Y/N, is everything okay?”

“My son… I… he…,” you stammered, your voice shaky with fear and urgency. Your muscles locked in a momentary paralysis, eyes wide with astonishment, and surprise rendering you immobile. The thought of Sachiro in a critical state was about to make you faint, with the last bits of images you saw that afternoon were of Sera and her boyfriend rushing to catch you from completely falling to the ground. 

——

Megumi didn’t know how to deliver the bad news. 

He came home after Yuuji’s brother rushed you to the hospital, shocked by everything that happened in a span of a single day. His mind was aching from all the thinking he was doing; praying that little Sachiro will be fine, hoping that you would stay strong throughout, and lastly, wondering how he would break it to his dad that something terrible had happened. 

His father wasn’t exactly the greatest man to tread this Earth, especially not after the drunken words he had ‘mistakenly’ uttered to you that night in Miami that resulted in your separation. Yes, Megumi knew every word and detail. His father told him everything just as a sober man would. Did you really think that the Toji Zen’in you knew would sputter that utter nonsense to you? That you had an empty soul. That he couldn’t be with someone like you. That you would forever be a placeholder to Megumi’s mother. Bullshit. None of those were true. His father told him that the reason he had to say those words, as piercing and trenchant as they may be, was because it was the only way he could free you from being caged in a relationship your heart didn’t genuinely want. 

It was Toji’s last resort to hurt you with his words, hoping that you would wake up from your false fantasy and finally have a reason to leave a relationship with a man that wasn’t Satoru Gojou. If Megumi’s father wasn’t at the top of the list of Forbes’ richest men in Japan, he would have felt a great deal of inferiority complex over a younger man like Gojou. Not because of his looks and his riches, but because he had you. No matter what Satoru did, no matter how many times he hurt you, he was and would always be that man you wanted to be with. 

Sighing, Megumi’s first task upon coming home was to check on his father’s room, only to find the dark room void of its owner. When he made his way down the grand staircase, he met an ill-spirited Naoya who was ranting to Mai about Sera flaunting Sukuna in front of his face. Megumi’s sigh was then followed by another. The drama in this house was relentless. He felt like he was exhaling endlessly, like a malfunctioning appliance. 

“Where’s dad?” asked Megumi, directing her question to a more rational Maki. 

The tall, green-haired girl gave him a knowing shrug. “You already know,” she said, “Drowning himself in alcohol down at the bar.” 

As always. 

Megumi jogged around the estate to eventually find his father at one of the wet bars near his home office. He was there, seated on a stool, his head drooping low with a glass of premium scotch in hand. How many glasses he’d had, Megumi could only hope the numbers weren't that high. But upon approaching his father, his presence was barely acknowledged as he sat on the stool next to him, suggesting that the grown man might be more inebriated than his son had expected.

“Dad,” spoke the Zen’in heir, “Dad, you good?” 

Toji lifted his head up, three sheets to the wind, as a smile crept up on his scarred lips. “Son.” 

“Let me take that.” Megumi grabbed a hold of the glass of scotch, sliding the strong liquor away from his father. “There’s something I ought to tell you.” 

Toji stayed nonchalant, sitting upright and tapping his fingers on the counter. “What’s it about this time?” he asked. “I’ve told you, I can’t stop the elders from arranging your marriage unless you’re honest with me about someone you like. I know you have someone in mind, but you’re not saying who. Are you just shy?”

Megumi gave his father a look of exasperation. He’s rambling, he thought, frustrated with his father’s inebriated chattering. “It’s not about that. It’s about Y/N-san.”

The mention of your name was the only thing that made Toji's demeanor shift to one of genuine concern. “What happened?”

“Sachi’s in a critical condition,” the younger Zen’in went straight to the point, “Y/N-san went manic over it and fainted before we could get her to the hospital.”

Toji was quick to grab his coat and car keys, as if all the alcohol in his system had immediately evaporated. But before he could leave, Megumi caught his father’s arm and pulled him back. 

“What?” said Toji, concern and urgency blanketing his gaze. “I need to be with her.” 

“Do you really need to?” Megumi countered. “Dad, I know it’s not right for me to stop you in this crucial situation, but are you gonna do this every time she’s in trouble? Do you plan to do this forever? Do you plan to keep drowning yourself in alcohol thinking about her? We care for her like family, that’s true, but you and her aren’t a thing anymore. Your responsibilities in taking care of her should stop, too. You, yourself, said it’d be best if she stopped being reliant on you. Now, do yourself a favor and stop trying to be this pathetic superhero.” 

The concern etching on Tojis’s face softened into a sense of realization, a sense of candidness that only someone as straightforward as his own son could evoke. Megumi had to, not because he didn’t care for you anymore, but because he had to ensure he wouldn’t lose his father over a relationship that had already ended. Toji was the only real family Megumi had left. 

“Stay, dad,” he pleaded, “Please.”

Toji took a deep breath and released it in the same second. “Okay,” he softly said, ruffling his son’s hair. “I won’t leave.” 

——

Why is it that you keep attracting things, places, and people that you disliked the most? 

You hated hospitals, and you had spoken about it enough to make it clear how much you dreaded going to a place where your worst memories had taken root. Yet, the sterile environment seemed to beckon you, dragging you back with a new nightmare each time. It was beyond your worst fears that you would find yourself racing through the halls mere minutes after regaining consciousness, desperately trying to reach where your son was.

Please be okay. Please be okay. 

Frantically, you scanned the corridors, searching for the ICU and hoping that what you had just heard was nothing more than a cruel illusion, that this was all just a nightmare. You weren’t a deeply devout person, but you did send prayers to every saint you could think of, hoping that Sachiro’s current state wasn’t in the median between life and death. 

Because if you lost your son, then there was no point in living anymore. This life wouldn’t be worth enduring. 

“Y/N!”

You weren’t the first one to arrive outside the pediatric ICU, with Gen and your father already being there moments before you came. You were struggling to breathe by the time you reached them, feeling your heart race with a thunderous beat. “Gen… Dad, what h-happened to him?” You couldn’t stop the weakness in your voice. “Tell me he’s fine, please. Please. My baby. If anything h-happens to him, I’m g-gonna die, Gen! I c-can’t h-have that!”

Gen quickly enveloped you in a tight embrace, trying to offer any form of comfort she could. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Dad and I are just as shocked.” She held you closer, her voice trembling as she, too, was just as anxious as you. “Sachi refused to eat and complained about having a hard time breathing. He was so pale and his lips were blue. We knew we had to rush him to the hospital immediately.”

“Oh my God.” Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to stifle the uncontrollable cries that were escaping. The news of Sachiro developing cyanosis shattered your heart, and the crushing reality that you weren’t there to take care of him tore you apart. “My baby, no. No, no. H-He—”

“Y/N!” 

Out of breath and also visibly shaken was the father of your son, Satoru, who came running to your side the moment his eyes landed on you. Behind him was his mother, clutching a rosary in her hand as both of them were seemingly shell-shocked in the same magnitude as you and your family were. Everyone cared for Sachiro’s well-being, everyone prayed for his safety, and the thought of losing an angel like your son was a soul-crushing thought that sent you slipping into a chasm of suffering.  

“Wh-What happened to Sachi?” Satoru asked in desperation, his question raised to everyone in the vicinity—you, your family, the nurses. But no one could give him a decent answer. “Please, tell me my son’s alright. Tell me.” 

You watched him walk in circles, raking his fingers through his hair as if he was seeking anything to hold onto. And you, feeling that magnet that pulled you closer to him, broke away from Gen’s embrace to look at your son’s father. “Satoru…” 

“Y/N,” his voice cracked as he met your gaze, “Our son.” He stopped, ready to wrap you in a hug—a moment of solace you both desperately needed in this critical time. But just as he pulled you close in a fragile attempt to find comfort together, the door to the ICU swung open, abruptly ending the brief respite.

All of you immediately rushed over to the doctor, the sterile white walls and the distant hum of hospital machinery did nothing to calm the turmoil inside you. 

“Doctor, how’s he?” 

“How’s my grandson, doc?”

“Doc, my son, is he okay?” 

“Is he stable, doc?” 

“Doctor, how’s my son, please?” you asked, your body growing tense to the point of shaking.

The doctor took a deep breath, his expression serious amidst the fusillade of questions thrown at him. “We’re currently running a series of tests on the patient. We suspect Sachiro may have congenital heart disease, specifically a ventricular septal defect with associated pulmonary hypertension.”

No, it can’t be. It’s not possible! The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You struggled to process the information, your vision blurring with tears and your heart drumming a rapid staccato inside. You didn’t need to look at everyone to know that they all, for a moment, looked at you. “Heart disease? But… how? I didn’t think—”

“Can you explain more, doc? Please.” Gojou was desperate, his bright blue eyes now dull and severely clouded with a brewing storm. It was as if he was keeping himself from crying.

The doctor continued gently, “VSD is a condition where there’s a hole in the heart’s ventricular septum. It can lead to pulmonary hypertension, which means the blood pressure in the lungs is elevated. It’s a serious condition, but we’re doing everything we can to assess the extent and provide the best treatment.”

“N-No, oh God. My baby.” You felt your knees go weak, and you sank down against the wall, with more tears cascading down your cheeks like waterfall. The weight of the diagnosis was crushing, but the hardest part was realizing that this was something you had unknowingly passed on to Sachiro. The heart disease was inherited from you and had now manifested in your beloved son.

It’s my fault. It’s my fault! 

The doctor placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “We’ll keep you updated as soon as we have more information. Please, try to stay calm, Y/N. It’s not best for your heart to panic right now. Sachiro is in good hands.”

You were unable to speak through the sobs that wracked your body. The hospital corridor felt endless, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt and helplessness that consumed you. You could feel all eyes on you, judging, harboring hatred, carrying deep-rooted resentment. You were torn apart by the knowledge that the very thing you had feared most was now a reality for your son.

“It’s… It’s my fault,” you sobbed, covering your face with your quivering hands, “This is all my fault. I gave it to Sachiro, I… I’m a terrible mother!” 

Gen knelt beside you, her hands gripping your shoulders with a firm yet gentle touch. “Y/N, stop it. This is not your fault. You didn’t choose this for Sachiro.”

Your father, who had been pacing anxiously nearby, joined in. “Your sister’s right. You’re blaming yourself for something beyond your control. We’re all here for you. We’ll figure this out.”

But amidst your familial exchange, Satoru stood nearby, frozen and listless. His silence only added to the overwhelming distress. Was he also blaming you for what Sachiro was going through right now? Was he also angry at you for putting his son into this critical situation? 

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the commotion—voice that was equally harsh and spiteful. It was Satoru’s mother, boring her fiery eyes into your skull as she opened her mouth. “That’s right! You’re self-aware, aren’t you?” she spat and stood rigidly, arms crossed defensively over her chest. “This is all your fault. You’re such an irresponsible mother! You can’t even take care of my grandson properly, and now you’ve passed your disease onto him!”

You looked up in shock, seeing Satoru’s mother standing there with a disdainful expression. The sting of her words felt like a knife twisting in your heart, because they were true. They were painful, yes, but they were true. And all you could do was lower yourself until you were sitting on your haunches, trying to make yourself as small as possible. 

“Excuse me?!” Gen stood up, her eyes blazing with anger that came from the deepest pits of hell. “You’re unbelievable, Auntie. How dare you speak to my sister like that! You have no right to blame her for this. I hope to God it was you in the ICU right now instead of Sachiro!”

“You…!” 

Satoru’s mother raised a hand to slap Gen, but your father stepped forward, his face a mix of disbelief and indignation. “This is despicable. How can you stand here and say such things to someone who’s already suffering? Weren’t you friends with my wife once?”

Satoru, who had been standing still, suddenly moved with a menacing calm. His face was hard as stone, and his eyes narrowed in anger. What was scarier was him approaching his mother with a threatening stance. “Are you really this pathetic, mother?” Satoru questioned with a cold, cutting tone. “Do you get off on making Y/N suffer? Do you think you’ve gotten away with slapping her behind my back? You don’t get to blame Y/N for anything. Any fucking thing!”

His mother’s eyes widened in shock, but she tried to defend herself at the ruthless stance her son was carrying. All of you were stunned at the realization of how Satoru resembled his cruel father at that moment. “B-But Satoru, my son—”

“Shut up!” Satoru cut her off, his voice harsh and unforgiving, before he threw his cold knuckles against the hard surface of the concrete wall. “I don’t want to see your face ever again! Don’t consider yourself my mother any longer, you witch. You’ve lost that privilege.”

This took a wild turn, and hearing the brutality of Satoru’s words was like a thunderclap in the tense atmosphere. His mother’s face turned pale, her mouth opening and closing in shock as she struggled to respond.

“Get out of here,” Satoru commanded, his voice uncaring towards her. “Leave, and don’t ever come back. You’re nobody to me now.”

With that, Satoru’s mother turned and fled, stumbling down the corridor as if she was the victim in this situation. However, the tension in the air began to dissipate as soon as she left, leaving you, Satoru, Gen, and your father in a heavy silence. Only your sniffles could be heard. 

Even Gen, who was often hostile around your ex-husband, had remained quiet and composed after she watched him take such drastic measures to keep his mother away.

Everyone was silent. Pure, unbothered silence until Satoru’s phone began to buzz loudly, cutting through the stillness of the hallway. For a moment, he closed his eyes, then he fished his phone out of his pocket where you caught a glimpse of the caller ID. 

Akemi. 

——

The ICU only allowed short visits and one person at a time, so there was no need for everyone to stay the night. You were the parent, you were the one responsible for your son’s situation, so you insisted it was best for your dad and Gen to go home and get some rest. You didn’t mind watching over your son for the whole night, because coming home without him was the last thing you would do right now.

My precious angel.

Sachiro lay in the hospital bed, his small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The doctors had managed to stabilize him for now, and the sight of his heart monitor showing a stable rhythm was a small comfort amidst the chaos.

Still, you sat by his bedside, mindful of your timed visit as your hands gently held his tiny ones, feeling the warmth of his small fingers. You glanced down at the medical report on your other hand, trying to make sense of the complex terms and figures.

The words blurred together as your tears fell silently onto the paper. “I’m sorry, baby.” He didn’t deserve this. He’s just a baby. “Mommy’s very sorry.”

You tried to stay strong, putting on a brave face for your son, but inside, you were falling apart. It was impossible not to blame yourself over this, wishing you could do more than just be present around him. This was the comeuppance of your own actions after you focused on your own emotions for the past few weeks to the point of neglecting your son’s wellbeing. If you had been more present in his life, if you had been more observant, you would have easily noticed the signs. Now, you allowed Satoru to find a flaw in your duty as a mother, and he could cite this very event as evidence to get full custody of him. That is, if he were to ever consider taking your son away from you. 

But in the first place, he should be the last person to do that, because where exactly was he now? 

Your thoughts kept drifting back to the earlier scene, where he excused to answer Akemi’s call, and later that night told you he had to leave and “check something” urgently. He promised he’d be back before midnight, but where was he? 

Resentment began to fester within you.

You had been very perceptive of Akemi’s feelings, apologetic in the way you supposedly betrayed her, but the fact that she was still scrambling for Satoru’s attention in the midst of your son’s hospitalization was something you could never forgive her for. 

And as for Sachiro’s father, how could he prioritize another woman when his own son was in such a critical state? The confusion of his actions was overwhelming. It felt like a cruel deja vu that, at a time when you needed him the most, he was choosing to be elsewhere. You could accept it if it was a choice between you and another woman, but between his son and her? His behavior was unacceptable, disgusting even, and it only served to deepen your grudge against him.

You clenched your fists, trying to push away the surge of anger that threatened to consume you after seeing that the disparity in his actions felt like both a betrayal and a slap to the face. Your poor son. You stared at Sachiro’s peaceful face and stroked his cheek. How could Satoru be so indifferent to his own flesh and blood?

The room was silent except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor and your quiet sobs. The situation was almost too much to bear, and your resentment towards Gojou grew heavier by the second. Each minute felt like a lifetime, and the emptiness left by his absence was a constant reminder that yet again he chose another woman over his own family.

It’s okay. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. I won’t leave you, Sachi. For Sachiro’s sake, you needed to find the strength to carry on, to be the mother he needed in this moment of crisis and never again failing to be there for your only child. 

At exactly 10:30 pm, the nurse came in and told you visiting hours were over. You complied. 

At 11:00 pm, Ian paid you a quick visit and talked to the nurses, perhaps giving them reminders to look after you. 

At 12:00 am, you were alone again. Seated at one of the benches outside the ICU—sleepless, starving, and nauseous. 

At 2:00 am, you remained in your seat despite the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with your own discomfort. The flickering fluorescent lights above did little to help you get some proper sleep. The cold air-conditioning alao made you shiver slightly, hugging your own body to try and give yourself some warmth. 

At 4:00 am, you awakened from the noise of the movements beside you. Realizing you had fallen asleep, you looked up and saw Satoru taking a seat to your left. His coat was draped over his arm, and he offered it to you.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, but you could see the bags under his eyes suggesting the sleepless nights he’d had for the past few days. “You can use my coat.”

You took the coat, but as you caught a whiff of it, a familiar scent of Akemi’s perfume lingered. Rose Prick by Tom Ford. It was a scent you’d come to recognize after your years of being her best friend, and it made your stomach turn slightly. Without any hesitation, you handed the coat back to him. “No, thank you. I’m fine,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. Looking into his eyes was the last thing you would do. 

And you knew Satoru was sighing, but didn’t press the issue. “The nurse mentioned you haven’t eaten today.” He pulled out a small bag of assorted fruits, placing it gently on the seat between you. You eyed the offerings, feeling a pang of hunger but also a strange aversion. “I bought some fruit. Is there anything you like?”

You took a deep breath and broke the silence with a hint of sarcasm. “You’re really good at this, huh?”

“At what?” was his immediate question, puzzled.

“Hitting two birds with one stone.”

“Y/N…”

“Stop trying to take care of me,” you interrupted, your tone sharper than intended. “ I don’t need it.”

“But—”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You can’t even be here for Sachi. You can’t even choose your son. He’s in a life and death situation and we’re still only receiving scraps of your attention.” It was the deep-seated grudge spilling out of you. “You’re so good at abandoning people, huh? Even though that’s what you hate the most. You’re so good at disappearing without even a text or call to check on me and our son. After that night at the cabin, you just…” you paused, realizing that you were opening too much of your heart to a man who didn’t deserve it. “Forget it. Just go home to Akemi. Live a happy life, build a family with her. Forget us. I don’t care. I’ll take care of Sachiro myself. I’ve done it for three years!”

“Y/N, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just…” Satoru fumbled for words, his somber blue eyes bearing the history of your shared heartbreak. It was as though the painful memories of your past were flooding his thoughts, seeking justification as to why he couldn’t pick you again this time. “I had to be there for her. She’s…”

You turned away before he could see your expression, because your heart was splintering at the thought of Satoru Gojou shattering it once more. As he always did. There seemed to be no end to this relentless heartbreak, as if any hope of a happy ever after with the man you loved would only return a pain that was a hundred times worse. Perhaps, this was destiny’s way of telling you that you and him weren’t meant to be. That any wishful thinking of being with Satoru again was only something that you could expect in another universe.

So, in your defense, you had to pull on a facade. A mask that you had to wear in the face of being the target of never-ending despair. “Satoru, I don’t want to talk about it,” you said firmly, concealing the raw ache in your voice with a smile. “And I don’t expect you to choose me every time. It’s okay. It’s happened before.”

“Can’t you see I’m hurting, too?” he asked, his voice breaking. Though you couldn’t see his face, the tremor in his voice revealed his struggle to hold back tears. 

You couldn’t understand why he would be hurting with his decision. When faced with two crossroads, he always seemed to pick the path that led away from you. So instead of trying to comprehend his pain, you decided it was time to honor your own. For your sake. For Sachiro’s. 

“Let’s just forget about that night,” you declared, wiping your eyes as you got up from your seat and prepared to walk away. “From this day forward, let’s pretend it never happened.”

——

Akemi’s apartment was dark when Satoru stepped inside. 

And to be honest, the darkness was a relief. At least, she wouldn’t be able to see the lassitude etched on his face, not just from juggling his time between his son and her, but from the constant ache of hurting the person he loved.

Miscommunication is a couple’s greatest enemy, and the persistent disconnect between you two, coupled with the reluctance to clear things up, had worn Satoru down. He wanted to end this—the feeling of helplessness and the torment of seeing the woman he cared for caught in a labyrinth of despair.

The hospital visits to Sachiro alone had been a whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities, and this brief visit to Akemi felt like an unwelcome detour, but one he couldn’t avoid. Satoru knew his heart wanted to stay in the hospital with you, to wait for any updates on his son, to hold your hand and care for you, yet here he was, dragging his feet across the carpeted floors to approach Akemi. 

“Hey.” She was sitting on the couch, looking frail but alert as if she had been desperately waiting on his arrival. She had recently started treatment for her stage 3 endometrial cancer, and Satoru could see the toll it was taking on her, physically and emotionally. He would be cruel to leave her hanging like this, to neglect her at her worst when she had been there by his side at his. Satoru had an unspoken accountability on her, because it wouldn’t be fair for him to just abandon her after she poured all her heart and soul into helping Gojou get back onto his own feet.  

“Hey, ‘Kemi,” he said, his tone soft but distant. “Did you take your meds today?”

Akemi looked up at him, her eyes tired and heavy. “I did. I took them just like the doctor said. How’s Sachiro?”

Gojou’s expression tightened. “He’s holding steady at the moment.”

A heavy silence settled between them before Akemi broke the tension. “I’m glad he’s stable,” she said, quietly. “Are you okay?”

He nodded once, his mind already drifting back to the hospital. “Yeah. Listen, I need to head back soon. Nanami and Miwa will be alternating in looking after you from now on. They’ll make sure you’re okay while I’m dealing with Sachiro. I have to focus on my son.”

Akemi’s frail hand reached out to gently grip his arm, the other held her lower abdomen in pain. “Satoru, please don’t go just yet. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Now’s not the time to feel guilty. It was either her or Sachiro. Her or his son. Gojou decided to pull his arm away gently, his gaze distant. “Sachiro needs me, Akemi. You know that.”

Akemi’s face fell, but she knew it would be ridiculous to argue over that. “No, I understand. I get that. I want you to focus on Sachi, too. I just wish—” Before she could finish, her voice faltered, and she looked up at him with a hesitant gaze. “Satoru, do you regret that I took you back even if you cheated on me?”

The question caught him off guard, and Satoru’s blue eyes narrowed as he processed her words. He had been so focused on his responsibilities and the immediate crisis that he hadn’t given much thought to their ‘relationship’. All he knew was when he showed up at her doorstep back at the cabin, he was only going to try and end things with her. He was only going to clarify the longstanding feelings you and him poured out to each other that night, which was why he ended up sleeping with his ex-wife. But because Akemi suffered at the time, because her pelvic pain worsened to the point of an emergency, he had to hold back and just take care of her in the weeks that passed. He was caged in this situation like a prisoner who was found guilty for the crimes he had committed.

Just be honest, Satoru. Disregard everything else and just be honest. Satoru believed it was about time he stood his ground no matter the consequences. “You can’t take me back if we’re not together, ‘Kemi,” he breathed out those words, reticent on hurting her with the truth. If she would lash out on him, throw a vase on his head, slam a book on his face—he wouldn’t mind. He was ready to accept all the violence he deserved from being an asshole. “You knew from the start that this, us, was only temporary. It was never supposed to be serious.” 

Her expressions turned doleful. “Then, in that case, did you at least…” Tears welled up in her eyes as she she paused, “Did you at least love me?”

“I just… I never saw it that way, Akemi.” Satoru’s honesty would destroy her, but he didn’t want to keep on sending out false hopes. He had to be firm, and while he was grateful for everything she did for him, that doesn’t mean he owed her his life and loyalty. In the first place, he warned her that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. And God, he was far from ready to even settle down, yet Akemi constantly hinted at wanting to tie the knot with him. Again and again did she mention the thought of a wedding and a child and her own family. 

Satoru wanted all those things too, but with another person in mind. He was only set on having those things with one woman.

Akemi’s face paled upon hearing his answer and the fact that he didn’t even bother to explain himself. “I see. I guess I needed to hear that.”

Gojou looked at her with a mix of regret and sympathy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you like this, I really do.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

It definitely wasn’t fine, but Satoru had to take her word for it as he got out from the couch and gave her a gentle pat on the head. “I have to go. Nanami will be here soon. Please make sure to follow the treatment plan and take care of yourself.”

Akemi nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “Alright. I’ll see him when he gets here.”

As Gojou turned to leave, he felt a pang of guilt twisting deep in his gut but pushed it aside. He was a father first before anything else. Sachiro would always be his first and foremost priority amongst everything else. 

——

After leaving Akemi’s place, Satoru was driving his car into the evening air beyond the speed limit. And his mind was racing together with him as he thought of you, your son, and the myriad of emotions he was struggling to manage. He couldn’t wait to be home, not literally at his own place, but anywhere with you and his son was his definition of home. 

It would be diabolical for him to run into your arms and yell, ‘I’m free! We can be together again!’ No, that would be cruel and disgusting. He respected Akemi just as he respected you. It was himself that he couldn’t respect, because he was the one responsible for the mess that he created. And adding Sachiro’s critical condition on top of the already festering wounds in your relationship? It truly was the manifestation of karma in his actions. 

His footsteps bounced through the hospital corridors the moment he arrived, each impatient step was ready to see your face and tell you he would never leave you and Sachiro now. But as he neared the pediatric ICU, his eyes darted around, the sight of his ex-wife was nowhere to be found. And instinctively, his heart pounded in his chest, and a drum of panic seemed to warn him of a storm that was about to come. Something was off, and it scared him. 

“Nurse,” he called out, his voice edged with urgency as he approached their station. “Where’s my wife? The boy’s mother?”

The nurse looked up, recognizing the infamous CEO’s face. “Uh, Mr. Gojou, she was heading to the rooftop, I think.”

“What?!” he unintentionally yelled at her face, “Why didn’t you guys keep an eye on her?” 

“Sir, calm down. She’s probably going to get some fresh air.”

A cold chill ran down his spine. You were definitely not there for that. 

Without another word, he sprinted towards the stairs, taking them two at a time instead of waiting at an elevator together with a group of people. He had to get to you as soon and as fast as he could without another second to waste. Although the climb felt endless, his mind racing with fear and dread was the push he needed to finally reach you. 

And upon bursting through the door to the rooftop, he was met with the soft whisper of the evening wind and the heart-stopping sight of you standing perilously close to the edge.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice breaking with desperation. “Don’t do this. Please, step back.”

You stood motionless, eyes fixed on the distant horizon, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of sorrow. “The world hates me, Satoru,” you whispered, the mellow tone of your voice carried away by the wind. “I’m a burden to everyone, even my own child. I-I just… I want to end it all.”

“No!” Satoru’s heart shattered at your words while he moved closer, his hands outstretched and careful not to startle or provoke you. He was dying to have you in his arms and keep you safe. “Y/N, please. Come back. What about Sachi? What about me? We need you. Sachiro needs you. I need you.”

What exactly made you go here? How did thoughts of ending yourself suddenly come into fruition? Was there something you discovered that brought you to this ultimatum? Gojou was desperate, utterly desperate, to hear what was running through your mind so that he could at least ease the burden that you were carrying all by yourself. He was once in the position where he wanted to commit too, and he knew the temptation that came with permanently escaping the cruelty of the world in just a single action. 

“Y/N, please. Please, I’m begging. Come to me,” he rattled on in a suffocating whisper, the pleading in his voice was heavy, “Please. I love you. Only you.”  

It was when you turned around that Gojou’s world collapsed, and the words you said after had shattered his entire universe. 

They were still. 

You. 

And the wind. 

“I’m pregnant,” you finally confessed, voice cracking as you looked at the faint tears that fell from Satoru’s eyes. “I don’t wanna have this baby.” 

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

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[rhys-writes-some-shit]

The Dilemma of a Rubber Duck

Alastor x Reader (Queer-Platonic) ft. Bestie Lucifer

(TW: Mentions of depression, mentions of suicide attempts)

You knew Alastor didn’t like Lucifer. You weren’t 100% sure why, only that the King of Hell really got on Alastor’s nerves. Ever since Lucifer had moved into the hotel in the aftermath of the battle with the angels, Alastor had spent hours ranting and raving to you about him. They were constantly trying to one-up each other. It was comical, really.

Except that you were stuck in the middle of it. 

Unlike Alastor, you and Lucifer had hit it off right away, getting along like two peas in a pod. There was a certain camaraderie that came with being clinically depressed and still having to force a smile, which both you and Lucifer were experts at. Many late nights had been spent exchanging stories and finding humor in things other people might not otherwise find humorous. 

(“I tried to kill myself twice, and then end up getting hit by a car! That’s how I end up in Hell? What did I do all that work for?” That was the first time that story had been met with laughter, and that was when you knew Lucifer was a good guy.)

You were constantly thinking about how Alastor would react to knowing you enjoyed hanging out with Lucifer, or vice versa. It worried you to no end, so you tried to keep your friendship with Lucifer under wraps, for Alastor’s sake. He needed someone to back him up, and you wanted to be that person. You wanted Alastor to know he could trust you.

One evening, you and Lucifer were talking in the parlor, drinking tea. Alastor was out for a fancy Overlord meeting, so you were able to relax a bit. 

“I’m so glad we have Niffty around,” you were saying. “Sometimes I just can’t find the energy to do my laundry, but I know that if I leave it on the floor, she’ll take care of it right away.” You thought for a moment. “It’s not like I’m forcing her to do it. Or taking advantage of her. Right?”

“Nah, I thought cleaning was her job,” Lucifer reassured. “My loophole with that is all my outfits are the same. Also magic. Magic is very helpful.”

“Man, I’m jealous!” You gave a lighthearted groan. “I wish I could have magic like that.”

“Who’s saying you can’t?” Lucifer shrugged, sipping at his tea. 

You snorted. “Have you seen me? Do I look like Overlord material to you?”

“I didn’t think Mr. Crimson Asshole was an Overlord, so looks aren’t everything.” Lucifer hesitated. “Oh, shit, I shouldn’t have said it like that. You two are like, dating, right?”

You made a ‘fifty-fifty’ gesture with your hand. “Eh… Not really? It’s like… a mutual relationship. Neither of us are the ‘dating’ type, so we just kind of… vibe. But it’s fine, I get it. You should hear the things he says about you.”

“Oh?” Lucifer leaned forward, curious. You mimed zipping your lips, grinning playfully. “Alrighty then, keep your secrets.”

The feeling of guilt you’d been getting used to returned, but you smiled past it. If there was anything Alastor taught you, it was that you could hide everyone behind a smile. And it worked, for the most part. The only person who’d ever been able to see though it was Alastor himself. Similarly, you were the only person able to see through his ever-present smile.

Setting his cup down, Lucifer waited for a lull in the conversation. “Before I forget, I have something for you.” With a wave of his hand, a little yellow rubber duck appeared in his palm. Its features and markings made it resemble you. 

Eyes wide, you carefully took the duck from his hands like it were an actual duckling.

“This one doesn’t breathe fire or anything, but…” Lucifer paused, like he was struggling for words. “I haven't had a real friend in… a really long time. S-so I wanted to thank you. For that.”

You were at a loss for words. The only other person to get you gifts since you’d died had been Alastor. That feeling of guilt hit you like a train, but it was masked with a bright, grateful smile.

“Lucifer, I… I’m honored. Thank you.” You struggled to tear your eyes away from the duck. “Can I hug you?”

Instead of replying, Lucifer pulled you out of your chair, hugging you close. You matched it, hoping your appreciation for his existence was properly conveyed.

“Ahem.”

You and Lucifer pushed each other apart like a teenage couple caught making out. Alastor was standing in the entrance to the parlor, teeth bared. His grin was sharp, borderline violent, and his eyes were narrowed. 

“Al,” you tried, but no other words followed.

Then Alastor sighed, and the murderous look in his eyes disappeared. You were still holding the duck Lucifer had given you. Looking down, you realized you were shaking, and felt a little faint. 

You stumbled back, right into Alastor’s arms. Head spinning, you allowed him to set you down on the chair. Alastor kept a hand on your arm, watching your every movement with surgical focus. He knew, you realized. He knew how guilty you felt, how much anxiety it was causing you. How long he’d known, you had no idea, but you could feel it in the way he wouldn’t let you go. You didn’t want him to let you go. 

“Are you okay?” Lucifer looked frantic, obviously worried. “Do you need water? Something to eat? Medicine? I’m sure there’s some around here somewhere, if you just give me a minute—”

“I’m fine,” you interrupted, trying to muster a smile. You failed. How Alastor held his grin all day, every day, was a mystery to you. “Well, okay, maybe not fine.”

“They could use water,” Alastor provided, only a slight edge in his voice. Nodding, Lucifer ran off to get a glass of water, leaving you and Alastor alone in the parlor. 

Alastor was silent for a moment. You could tell he was trying to figure out what to say. “I apologize for not noticing your anxiety sooner.” A little joy fluttered in your chest. Alastor enjoyed watching everyone’s suffering—everyone except for you.

“It’s not your fault,” you told him. “I should’ve been more upfront. I just…” You were still a little shaky. Alastor’s hand moved so it rested over your hand. The rubber duck was still in your other hand, and you turned it over with your fingers, fidgeting with it. “I didn’t want you to leave me.”

“Now that is nonsense if I ever heard any!” Alastor laughed. “What a ridiculous sentiment, my dear. It would take more than that to take me from you, I assure you.”

“But I know how much you hate him.” You looked towards the direction Lucifer had gone. “You hate that he’s here. You hate that he’s meddling. And this is just another reason to hate him.”

Alastor was contemplating his words again when Lucifer came back. He gently handed you the glass of water, causing you to have to put your duck down. Alastor was right to ask for it—the water helped. The air was tense as Lucifer and Alastor glared at one another while also keeping an eye on you. 

“When you are happy, I am happy,” Alastor said out of the blue. Both you and Lucifer looked to him for clarification. “If talking with Lucifer makes you happy…” Alastor swallowed, gritting his teeth, glowering deeply at Lucifer, “then, by that logic, it makes me happy.”

“Hey, same here.” Lucifer put his arms up symbolically. “I’m not gonna leave my friend just because I hate their boyfriend– er, whatever you are, that is.”

“Partner,” you and Alastor said in unison.

“Right. That.” 

The air was still tense, but it made you feel better knowing that Alastor and Lucifer wouldn’t be fighting over you, at the very least. 

“Okay,” you said suddenly, having finished your water. “I’m going to bed. Thanks again for the duck, Lucifer.”

You barely heard Alastor growl at Lucifer upon realizing that he’d given you a gift, but it just caused you to smile fondly. Alastor was quick to step in beside you, taking your arm to escort you up to your room. 

“You’re welcome!” Lucifer called back. “But don’t think that just because you and Alastor are partners that I’ll make one for him too!” You had to stifle a laugh. Lucifer was too sweet for his own good, no matter how awkward it made him seem.

You turned so Lucifer could see your grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[charmedreincarnation]

I shifted using the void state!

I'm getting straight to the point because I know people don't like long success stories, but I used these two posts to finally shift to my desired reality and manifest my dream life.

Rotten’s Practical Guide to Shifting Realities

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1zgrhCYyct7xV4j7d7qYFcoO8bAMx5Jqdb3NGoO81Oqs/edit

Reddit Post: The Power of the Void State

https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/s/XMIo5TPYlM

Anyways, when I learned about the void state on Reddit, I was instantly captivated. I mean, who wouldn't be? The idea of not only using it for shifting but also manifesting my dream life for myself and my family felt like a dream come true. That's when I came across the second post I shared about the void state, and eventually, the first document I shared. They were incredibly informative and completely changed my perspective on shifting and the law of the universe.

I went on to stalk many of the recommended success stories on Reddit, exploring posts and comment sections that mentioned you. You seemed to be a common denominator in their journeys, helping them shift or guiding them with your posts. It made me happy to see your positive influence, even though your posts were from years ago and it seemed like you no longer have an account. Unfortunately, many other creators' posts were either inactive or banned due to Reddit's strict rules which is really annoying.

However, someone made a post about you, and one of your friends ended up commenting with your Tumblr account. So, I gathered a lot of valuable information from your account and a few others (like Fleur, Pink, Rem, Sexy Dream Girl, etc.) on Tumblr.

I must say, the Tumblr shifting and void community is miles ahead of Reddit and Amino. I was shocked that I hadn't come across this community before. Reddit is just starting to talk about the Law of assumption and the void, whereas you guys have been immersed in it for years. I even encountered some misconceptions on Reddit, where people still think the void can only be used for shifting and not for waking up in a whole new life. 🙄

Regardless, finding this app was the motivation I needed, and I discovered so much valuable information. I ended up using your theta wave method, combined with the first Reddit post I sent, to enter the void and shift to my dr. It's truly mind-blowing how easy it all was.

I can vouch for this process. All you need are the two Reddit posts I shared, as the guide is highly regarded within the shifting community, along with a few trustworthy Tumblr bloggers. I've been part of the shifting community since 2017, so I've seen it all, and I managed to shift within just two and a half weeks of finding these resources. Even though I was struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts, I realized it doesn't have to hinder your journey.

I wanted to share my experience here, and I might make a post on Reddit too. However, they have become stricter with success stories due to anti-troll measures, and it takes weeks to even months for anything to be processed. So, I wanted to share my journey here first.

I also recommend this: https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/s/daFCQdyHim because it helped me understand what shifting really is. Manifesting too!

Lastly I'm 26 years old, and I've noticed that Reddit tends to have a more adult audience compared to Tumblr. At first, it felt nice to be surrounded by fellow adults discussing shifting. On the other hand, seeing Tumblr mostly filled with teens and younger adults made me wonder if it's easier for them, especially without the weight of responsibilities that often come with age.

But let me tell you, age is not a factor that determines our success in shifting. Whether you're 13 or 55, it doesn't matter. This is something we can all engage in, no matter our age.

Sure, there might be some challenges that come with getting older. As we accumulate more life experiences, doubts tend to creep in, and we become more logical. But guess what? Those doubts and logical thinking don't define our ability to shift realities. They are simply hurdles for us to overcome.

Hi love! I've spent some time going through all the resources you shared, and they've been incredibly helpful! Actually i have seen that guide in so many places, and it's truly enlightening. Thank you for sharing these amazing tools with us!

And yes, I wholeheartedly agree with what you said. age and doubt really do have no place in our journey they really don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

I used to engage with @theastralplaneandbeyond5487 on Amino and Reddit too. He also has an informative YouTube channel and is in his 50s, I believe. His experiences and insights are rlly helpful and further show that age is just a number in this journey.

His journey showed me that we can do whatever we we want , regardless of our age. It's a beautiful reminder that we're all capable of creating and experiencing whatever we want 🩵

Also omg my Reddit era in 2021 was so fun. I’m glad it’s still helping people though my views have definitely evolved :D!

[sixleggedboar]

Hello everyone, since it's been very quiet on here I wanted to share an update for those who are wondering and the friends and mutuals I've been severly neglecting.

You'll find me oversharing under the cut but tldr, I am still in the middle of recovering from burnout, but it forced me to completely restructure my life to the degree that I am emotionally more stable and therefore feeling better than ever. So for anyone worrying, don't. I still have a long way to go, but I have the privilege of a good and reliable support net that caught me and offers me the resources I need to be able to build the life I need. I want to come back here, share more art in the future, but I will not force it.

And right now it's just not the time.

Thank you to everyone who's still here, thank you for your support!

CW: mental health, depression, suicidal ideation, internalised ableism

I had been suicidal my whole life. Had never known a time where I wasn't. Couldn't understand how people wanted to live, how this wasn't normal. I couldn't see myself in the future no matter how hard I tried. But I kept going because this was my normal, I didn't know anything else, didn't know I needed help and a change that was a lot more fundamental than just talking to a person every week. I had no frame of reference to communicate my struggle that came with every day life because for all I knew this is just how everyone else feels.

This is just life.

And I am just not made for it.

Didn't help that whenever I tried to communicate that to a mental health professional I just got brushed off as dramatic, being told I am fine.

Because in the end it just works. I function.

I was one of the lucky ones who got diagnosed with ADHD as a kid, mum went to a specialist cause she has it herself and wanted to make sure I get tested so I don't have to go through the same struggles that come with staying undiagnosed as she did. Thing is, that diagnosis didn't really change much, I was still too academically gifted and non-obtrusive to be considered for medical treatment (and honestly seeing and hearing about stories were kids have been on the wrong dosage for years because no one knew better makes me think that maybe it was for the better) and my mum tried to teach me the skills to succeed in life despite that diagnosis, but she herself was alone and too deep in her own trauma to be able to provide the support I needed.

This lead to me cracking and dropping out of high school, trying other things, landing back in school, this time college, and cracking again, this time not managing to immediately get up again to keep going with something else.

Nothing seemed to work, so all I could do was to take a break.

A break that showed me for the first time, that no, chronically wanting to die is not normal, that I am capable of enjoying life, that I am capable of wanting to live and my first goal should be to figure out what I can do to crawl my way back into everyday life without losing that feeling, that knowledge. I learned the difference between just a really bad, but perfectly healthy, day and the excrutiating pain day to day living had caused me until that point.

And that break's been going on for over a year now, with me periodically trying to get back into school, trying to figure out what accommodations I need and how I can build a future for myself that is worth living.

I don't know if I'll finish my bachelor's, probably not, but if I drop out I'll need to find a viable alternative first. I don't think I'll ever be able to work full time, doubt I'll ever be able to fully support myself, but I know there is a future out there for me somewhere, one that is worth living to me and that is a hope I never had until recently. That is what I mean when I say I am doing better than ever, despite the fact that my functionality has effectively crumbled to dust and diagnostics say I am still depressed.

I am still struggling with the guilt that comes with relying on others for support, that comes with not being the perfect productive member of society I am expected to be, that comes with not being the perfect friend I want to be. I learned that I actually do want to work, something that if you had asked me a year ago, and if I felt save enough to be honest, I would have said no to. I just need to figure out what that looks like. I learned I can only focus on a handful of things, and that includes basic survival and individual people. I learned what I need to not feel lonely without being overwhelmed by social interactions and have incredible people in my life who make that possible.

I also met my amazing partner who is showing me how stable and unwavering love can be. Who gives me the security I need to say that whatever comes, we'll figure it out.

Oh and yeah, starting medical transition sure as hell helped a lot too.

I am currently trying to find my passions again, learn how to actually love creating art again, to learn how to learn and find enjoyment in just the act of it.

I'm in therapy and am trying out medications in the hopes to find some that work and don't make things worse.

All in all I'm going somewhere. I don't know where it will lead but I know that it will be worth it.

[wintersoldiersoul]

Not Alone

Summary: Bucky discovers a secret you've been hiding and is determined to help.

A/N: I kind of rushed writing this because I was feeling shitty and just needed to get my thoughts out. I definitely wanna explore this topic in a deeper way in a different story. If you are struggling, please reach out to someone.

TW: Self-harm, depression, blood, suicidal thoughts. Please do not read if this will trigger you in any way.

Avenger’s team dinner was always fun. Most nights, everyone was so busy that the meal was eaten scattered by everyone throughout the night but you all made it or injured, of course. Your deep desire to never leave your bed again? Not a good excuse. You splashed some cold water on your face and put your glasses on, hoping they would mask your red puffy eyes.

You faked your way through as well as you could. Laughing at the right moments, adding a few sentences here and there. Whatever you had to do to convince them that you were fine. 

The truth was, you weren’t fine and you hadn’t been for a while. Every day, you faced the dark thoughts in your head and you could usually keep them at bay enough to function. But something had switched within the last few months and you couldn’t fight them anymore.

As soon as you could, you excused yourself, desiring the sweet solitude of your bedroom. It was happening again. The emotional pain was becoming too overwhelming to exist as just that.

The first time you self-harmed, you were scared, tentatively holding the blade to your skin and making just a small cut at first. But now, after years of doing it off and on, you were somewhat of an expert. You felt the panic hit you on your way back to your bedroom, signaling that you needed to cut and you needed to do it now. You were usually methodical. Locking the bedroom door, preparing with neosporin and band aids for after so you wouldn’t get blood on the white carpet. But right now, you couldn’t even think of any of that.

You used the blade to make gashes in your skin, throwing your head back in relief as you felt the mental pain in your mind transform into something physical. Your head was so dark. Too dark to keep it all inside. All you had thought about while alone in bed the past few days was how badly you wished you could just end it. You were so tired of waking up every morning and being in so much pain. You were in a trance as you cut, watching the blood pool out of your skin. You were so in your own head that you didn’t hear the knock on the door. You didn’t cry when you did it. Not anymore. For you, self-harm wasn’t some tragic, emotional thing like it’s portrayed in movies. It was just a part of your daily routine, as much as brushing your teeth was.

“Hey Y/N I wanted to ask you-” Bucky stopped abruptly when he saw you. “Y/N what are you doing?” He rushed over to you, extreme fear and concern in his eyes.

You looked up at him, realization crossing your face that he had just discovered your deepest darkest secret. “Bucky, get out!” You yelled.

He looked at the blood dripping from your wrists. He was shocked. And hurt. He hated that you had so much pain inside of yourself that you had to resort to this. The scariest part though, was the true lack of emotion in your eyes. “Y/N, what the hell? What are you doing?” He knelt down on the floor beside you. “Hey, look at me,” he said, his voice growing softer.

Reluctantly, you lifted your head, looking into his blue eyes. And that’s when it really hit you. That Bucky was in your room, watching you hurt and destroy yourself. There was no getting out of this. No way to lie and cover up all of the pain you were in. You couldn’t hold in the sob that was brewing in your throat anymore. At your cry, Bucky wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as possible to him. “Oh, Y/N…” he whispered as he held you, his own eyes filling with tears. “Talk to me, please. I’m never gonna judge or be angry, okay? Just talk to me.”

You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself before speaking. “It’s just… it’s so dark in here, Bucky.” 

“In where, sweetheart?” He looked at you with concern.

You brought your hands to the sides of your head, tapping repeatedly. “In my head. The first thing I think about every day when I open my eyes is how much I want to be dead. I spiral about how life is just the same thing day after day after day and how I’m just trapped in this cycle of pain and I-” you pause as your voice breaks.

Bucky’s heart is beating fast at the admission that you wish you were dead. “Y/N, I need you to be honest with me, okay? Do you think about suicide? Like do you consider it as a real option for you?” 

You nod. “I have a whole plan. I know exactly how I would do it. I just need to find the courage-”

“Stop,” he interrupts. “Killing yourself isn’t brave. You know what is? Having the strength to fight every single day. You may not want to wake up and live but you do. That is what takes courage.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you listen to his words. You know what he’s saying is exactly what you would say, and believe, to anyone else if they were in your situation. But you just couldn’t apply that logic to your own life. 

“Why don’t I help you get cleaned up and we can talk some more, okay?” He took your hand as you slowly stood up and led you to the bathroom. He sat you down on the sink as he rummaged through the cabinets for everything he needed. You winced as he began to clean the cuts, a fresh sting shooting through your arm. “I’m sorry, I know it hurts,” he said, trying to be as gentle as possible. “Y/N, how long have you been doing this to yourself?”

“I used to do it when I was a teenager. I stopped for a long time. I thought I had it under control, I really did. But then a few months ago it started to get bad again. I just-I couldn’t control it anymore. I needed to feel the pain physically, too.”

Bucky sighed. “You know, that actually makes a lot of sense. I’ve never…cut myself or anything but I scratch at my shoulder a lot. Where my metal arm is connected. Now I do it more out of habit but I think I used to do it for that same feeling of something physical. Everything HYDRA did to me was so awful and I just needed an outlet for that pain.”

You looked up at him. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

He smiled softly as he began to apply band aids on your arms. “Of course not. I think you’re really struggling right now. And I’m not gonna lie, I’m scared as hell for you. I know there’s probably a lot more going on in your head than the little bit that you shared with me and I’m not gonna force you to open up if you don’t want to. But Y/N… I care about you so much. More than you even know.” This admission made your heart flutter. You and Bucky were friends, but you had never been particularly close. Still, it was hard to stop yourself from developing a crush on the guy. “I can’t even imagine what I would do if you ever-” his own voice broke now, thinking about the worst possible scenario. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Please, Y/N. Please get help. I’ll sit with you and look into therapists for hours if you need. But I’m not letting you live in this much pain anymore. You deserve to be happy.”

Those last few words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had lived in a state of pain and self loathing for so long that you didn’t believe that happiness was even in the cards for you anymore.

“Bucky,” you began to protest. You didn’t wanna get help because you genuinely didn’t think you deserved it. 

“Y/N, please. Let me help you. You’re not alone anymore, okay? You don’t have to fight this alone. Just let me in. Please.” He was practically begging you. His eyes were full of so much emotion and you could see how much your pain was affecting him.

You took a deep breath. “Okay,” you whispered, reluctantly agreeing.

He breathed out a sigh of relief. “Good, that's really good. That was the first step, okay? I’m really proud of you.”

The call of sleep weighed down your eyelids as he finished bandaging the cuts. “Why don’t we get you into bed, sweetheart?” He carefully picked you up and carried you to bed. You expected him to say goodnight and leave, but instead he tore back the covers from the other side.

“What are you doing?” You asked. You weren’t bothered by his presence, but you just didn’t understand it. Why would he still wanna be around you?

“I’m not leaving you alone tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor if it would make you more comfortable but there is no chance in hell I’m leaving you by yourself.”

You looked at him in shock. Sure, he had said he cared about you but you didn’t believe he cared enough to stay the whole night. You knew how much Bucky valued his alone time and often the night was the only chance he got to be alone, due to the busy schedule of being an Avenger.

“Bucky, you really don’t have-” 

“Shh, I’m staying, okay? I’ll sleep on the floor, I don’t wanna invade.”

You watched him as he pulled a blanket off the bed to take with him onto the floor. “No, you can sleep in my bed. I don’t mind.” 

He nodded and got in beside you, keeping a respectable distance between your two bodies. You both lay in silence for a couple of minutes, separately thinking about the events of the night. 

“Hey, Buck?” You said eventually. “You can say no if you don’t want to but… would you hold me?”

You felt his body shift closer to yours. “Of course I will.” He wrapped his strong arms around you, tucking your head onto his chest. “I told you, you’re not alone anymore. I’m never gonna let you be alone in this.”

You knew that this was only the beginning. That tomorrow Bucky would force you to look into getting professional help. You knew there would be ups and downs and you were terrified. But at least for tonight, for the first time in so long, you weren’t alone.

[ninyard]

please can you explain what kevins part of the deal wth andrew is because ive never really understood it and i feel like you probably get it

Okay. So. (tw; brief sh/suicide mention)

My understanding of Kevin and Andrew’s deal in the best way i can possibly explain it and HOPEFULLY i saw what i mean and it makes sense:

TLDR: Kevin promised to give him purpose, and Andrew’s waiting to see if that’s even possible.

There’s this part in TRK where Kevin tells Neil about their deal -

I’ve seen a few posts about Andrew’s mental health recently - about how Andrew wanted to recover, how he wanted to survive.

I think it’s hard to imagine Kevin and Andrew’s relationship sometimes because we see so little of it aside from Kevin keeping his pills, but there’s this;

I think it was Andrew who told him this. Andrew told Kevin that without his drugs he was destructive and joyless, in whatever context it was mentioned in. He told Kevin he had no ambition for life. (or because Neil says he tried to “remember her exact words” he talked to her? Read the files? But what are the chances of that?) I like to think that early on before they’d made their deal, Kevin asked him about his meds and Andrew told him. I think he’s quoting Andrew, who quoted his counsellor.

We know Andrew was struggling with self-harm. I know when Neil described Andrew’s scars as “up and down” his arm, it most likely means in a literal sense - from the top to the bottom of his forearm, but coupled with this;

I wonder if Andrew’s depression led him to have a closer relationship with suicide than we think. He had 12 psychiatrists before Bee. What are the chances that all of them are from after Cass? (ie Andrew’s mental health journey started before her)

STICK WITH ME HERE.

Regardless of who told him what, I think a part of Kevin saw that Andrew having no purpose was dangerous. I think Andrew himself worried that without his meds he’d fall back into this rabbit hole of having nothing to live for, having no purpose, having no point to continue living. And Andrew wanted to survive. Any excuse to live was worth it. Even if he didn’t believe in it himself, even if he saw it was pointless - leaving us with:

Going back to that first quote “he’s waiting to see if I can keep it.” If it’s even possible. It’s like finding tiny reasons to stay alive when you’re suicidal - I can’t kill myself because my favourite band might release new music. I can’t kill myself because my favourite tv show was cancelled, but there’s a chance it might come back. I’ll never hear my favourite person laugh again, I’ll never see the sunset again, there a chance that I’ll miss being an uncle, or I might miss my brothers wedding, or I might miss the invention of something life changing. My favourite band that broke up might get back together again - it’s unlikely, but I have to stay alive just in case.

Exy might be my purpose, and even if I don’t believe it, I still need something to live for.

So Kevin gave him something to live for. He believes in him.

Kevin was the first person to see any worth in Andrew - maybe since Cass, maybe ever - and Andrew knew that.

So Andrew gave Kevin his game; even if he won’t play with Kevin because he thinks it’s funny or whatever.

When Kevin came to PSU, he needed a reason to stay, something that would make transferring to the team worth it. And he knew Andrew was worth it. He knew how Andrew could play, how he should be court. Sure, David was there, but Kevin stayed because of Andrew. Andrew offered him protection, and then gave Kevin a reason to believe in the foxes. Every other player might’ve been dog shit and not worth a second of Kevin’s time, not worth his talent, not worth investing in.

But Andrew was.

Andrew could be court.

If Andrew promised Kevin he would allow him to give him purpose in Exy, then that gave Kevin reason to stay. Does that make sense? Kevin wouldn’t have stayed infthe Foxes were actually the worst team in the league. But with Andrew there, they weren’t, and that was reason enough to stay.

Kevin sees Andrew’s worth - he sees what he can do to keep Andrew going, so when Kevin says “he’s waiting to see if I can keep it,” I think it’s Andrew waiting to see if he’s right. Can he actually give me a career out of this? A life out of this? Maybe it’s a lack of self worth on Andrew’s part. He clearly doesn’t care about how good he is. But does he know? Does he even believe it?

So he’s waiting for Kevin to keep his promise. To prove that he’s good enough. To prove that Exy can realistically actually be his purpose.

But Andrew both believes and doesn’t believe that that’ll ever happen. He’s a walking contradiction. On the one hand he says out loud, “im waiting for Kevin to give up,” but I don’t think he means: im fucking with him and don’t believe him. I think he means: im waiting for him to finally see in me what I see in me, which is somebody who isn’t worth it. It comes from a place of self doubt/lack of self worth. It comes from a place of not believing he actually has anything to live for. It comes from that self destructive instinct that he has.

Andrew wants to survive, but he doesn’t believe that he can.

Andrew’s deal with Kevin: I’ll keep you safe and give you a reason to stay*

Kevin’s deal with Andrew: I’ll give you purpose and something to live for*

*but neither of these things can exist without the other. Kevin won’t stay if Andrew doesn’t see that he’s good enough for Exy to be his purpose, if he doesn’t let Kevin prove he was right by believing in him. If he doesn’t, then Kevin can’t give him something to live for.

Kevin promised to give him purpose, and Andrew’s waiting to see if that’s even possible.

Does uh. That make sense?

[flowhence]

johanna finding out reader sh? 🤔 i'm in desperate need of johanna fanfics 😓

two broken people - j.m.

summary: johanna finds out that you aren’t as ok as you seem.

pairings: johanna x fem!reader

warnings: self harm, depression, suicidal ideation, angst, hurt/comfort

author’s note: if anyone is struggling with these issues, please do not hesitate to reach out to me. you are not alone.

You wondered why you were alive, why you survived. Your hands bloodied with the blood of many. You don’t want to keep living. You don’t deserve it. The hopelessness grips onto your bones, settling deep within your soul. Everything is numb, yet you still smile your fake smile, you still laugh that fake laugh. It didn’t matter how many people you were always around, the inexcusable feeling of being lonely weighs down on your chest.

Johanna has noticed something different about you, but you cannot seem to bring yourself to care. You can’t seem to keep up the act.

After training you were exhausted, mentally and physically. You quickly darted out of the training area, speed walking to Johanna and yours room. When arriving at the room you quietly closed the door, going towards your stash of razors you picked out the sharpest one.

[i tried it like before and this time i made a deep cut]

You rolled up your sleeves, not even wincing at the way they stuck to your past wounds. You took a deep inhale, pressing the razor hard against your skin before you exhaled and drove it deep into your flesh watching as the blood oozes out.

[i thought about my friends and the way i didnt give enough]

Distantly, you should’ve known it would’ve been too deep. The blood starts to ooze out in a faster yet still somewhat sluggish pace, you feel dizzy and lightheaded. Vaguely you thought you didn’t really want to die.

[and i shouldve told my mother, “mom, i love you,” like a good son]

You stumbled into your desk, before you could think much about it you cut even deeper on your other wrist. A smile mixed with relief and remorse carved its way onto your features. You hear the door open, but you can’t really focus on anything but going to lay down.

[but this life is overwhelming and im ready for the next one]

“Y/N! Oh god… what did you do?!” Johanna yelps, running to you immediately. You can barely make out the words she’s saying. All you can think about, is how you’ll finally be free.

[take the blade away from me]

“Let me go…” You whisper, your voice sounds weak and slurred.

[i am a freak, i am afraid that]

Johanna shakes her head, “No! You promised… you promised me.” she says, desperately.

[all the blood escaping me won’t end the pain]

Johanna desperately screams for help, you vaguely see Katniss run in, the shock and despair on her face is heartbreaking.

[and i’ll be haunting all the lives that cared for me]

You can’t seem to get your eyes to stay open, you can hear Johanna screaming, crying, and sobbing, yet you can’t bring yourself to stay awake.

You woke with a start, looking around you you see that you’re in medical. You clench your teeth. Looking down you see the bandages on your wrists and … tears start streaming down your cheeks.

“Y/N? it’ll be ok. i’m here,” You sob even harder at your girlfriends words.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” You sob into her shoulder, gripping onto her shirt like its your lifeline, and it very well could be.

At least, at least you have Johanna. Two broken people trying to love, trying to heal.

[artsymeeshee]

It isn't much of an ask, as more of a thank you.

Your heavier toned sea grunk comic with Stan discussing his thoughts of suicide has always held a place in my heart.

I started into the fandom around January 2022, and was pretty introverted getting into it. At that time, I was around 13 years into my undiagnosed depression, and failed one attempt to end it in that span. My introverted nature and being so warped kept me from wanting to engage with others from the fandom. I figured I was an outsider with more issues than what could be handled, and no one would be there for me(and I wouldn't blame them).

I didn't think that around July 2022, people would begin reaching out to me, understanding me, and accepting me. I found kindred spirits and my family. And in September, my best friend found me. She is the Ford to my Stan. She has stuck by me and loved me when I have been unlovable and it wasn't required. And we bonded over our favorite guys of course. She got me into Tumblr, and this was one of the first comics that I saw, and it made me bawl. It felt like talking to my best friend face to face, even 500 miles apart.

Then, shifting into December 17, 2023, I tried again to go, standing in the freezing night on the edge of the local bridge, seeing the dark, and waiting to embrace it. And everything that I loved flooded me in that darkness: My best friend, all my friends I had made, my family, and this comic. Stan felt that way, but he held on, because he got Ford back. It was part of why I stepped down, and just sat for awhile, and took the time to finally get help. Those feelings are now distant and rare when I reached out for proper help.

Even now, I'm struggling, but not wanting to be in that place again. Just feeling like I'm inadequate as a spouse, but we are both working through it. It has been difficult the last few weeks, and this comic emerges again today, and flooded me all over again with the reminder that Stan chose to live, even if it was hell for a long time, and I can do it too.

So, if you haven't fallen asleep on me yet, I just wanted to thank you for making this comic. And for all of them. It resonates with me deeply, and frequently more than you'll ever know, and at points, has kept me here.

Thank you 👉👈

🥺🥺 Oh wow. I don't know what to really say but thank you for opening up and telling your story. I know it can be really hard to open up like that. It makes me happy to hear that things have gotten a lot better, even if it's not 100%.

That comic was a spur of the moment kind of thing because I was originally going to make just a vent post of myself but then something about wanting to get out particular thoughts I've had through Stan seemed like a better approach. Perhaps this could come as a bit of surprise to some but as much art of Ford I've done, Stan is actually the favorite of the two.

I kind of thought that comic was going to be my last at the time. My mind spiraled pretty bad during that time last year and figured that it wasn't worth trying to say how I've been and just leave because I genuinely believed I was better off no longer being part of the Fandom. I still think I do on some days but seeing messages like these or even small encouraging ones is enough to think I am still worthy enough to stay.

❤️

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being upset at how my former friends treated me?

tw: suicide and animal death

So for some context this was a very close knit friendgroup, for several years, of about 10 people, including me and my then partner. Also, everyone here is an adult.

Basically, one day I was in a really really bad place mentally. A beloved family pet was going to be put down soon, this dog had been a part of my life for almost half my life, and I was inconsolable and struggling to cope with this. During a discussion about some random interest I got too mean/harsh about it and it turned into an argument.

I know this was not justified and my grief wasn't an excuse, and I knew it then too and apologized to the people involved, and was met with overwhelming support, I was told "it's ok, we understand you're going through a rough thing right now, we're here to support you and you'll always have a place in this group"

Then my partner messaged me. They had not been part of the discussion at all, but they told me they felt hurt and wanted us to take a break. However, I misinterpreted that as a break up (combination of language barrier and me already being in shambles. This miscommunication is not something my ex can be blamed for)

This was an extremely serious relationship, we had been together for 2 years at that point and had a lot of future plans and such, so that on top of already grieving made me have a mental breakdown.

So, I vented on my personal tumblr. My vents did not mention/vague/allude to the situation at all, they amounted to "I feel terrible I can't do this anymore" and could very well have been only about my dog, or just about my depression in general. I also should point out that my ex doesn't use tumblr at all, so I didn't think he'd ever see those vents, and I certainly didn't want him to. And I also would not have reacted like that if I had known it was a temporary break. I know I still shouldn't have vented on a public blog, and it was hurtful no matter what. I wasn't thinking clearly at the time.

The next day, after our dog was put down, I sought support from my friends, but was suddenly met with "we're not impressed with how you've acted, get therapy, bye" and was kicked from the group. Several of them blocked me everywhere instantly.

Unbeknownst to me, someone had sent my vents to my ex and they had shown them to the others, and they'd drawn the conclusion that I was upset about a temporary break and was venting to try to guilt my ex into getting back with me. And not a single one of them brought this up to me. Again, we'd all been friends for several years at that point and this was literally the day after telling me I'd always be a part of the group and they were here for me. I couldn't even defend myself because no one would tell me anything, I asked many times but was told "you know what you did" even though I clearly didn't. I thought they'd all changed their minds about the previous day out of nowhere, or that this was because of (what I thought was) the breakup. I only learned what they actually thought much later. Oh, and my ex told me I needed therapy and he never wanted anything to do with me again (which is when I learned I'd been wrong about the breakup).

Again, I know me venting was harmful no matter what, so in that regard I am the asshole, but I still feel like there's a difference between what I did and deliberate manipulation, and surely people I'd been friends with for years could have spoken to me before assuming things?

So at that point I'd lost a beloved pet, my partner, and most of my close friends, within a day. So at that point I tried but failed to commit suicide, and was hospitalized.

While in the hospital, I didn't get a single word from any of my friends, except for one person. Supposedly, everyone had been "worried out of their minds" when they saw my suicide note. But not worried enough for a single word.

Even the one person who talked to me got extremely defensive and angry if I so much as implied I felt hurt by the group's actions. They even tried to hold it over my head how "despite everything you did X and Y were super worried about you" as if being worried about someone comitting suicide is some kind of heroic saint.

I asked to be allowed to talk things out with them, but was told "the others aren't comfortable associating with you", so I had to write a fucking google doc letter. I explained the situation from my perspective, apologized for my actions etc, but also made it clear that I felt hurt and didn't think their reaction was justified and that they should have at least talked to me first, and that I was very open to talking things out in person if any of them wanted to get back to me.

None of them did. Apparently they were writing a formal collective response letter to me. At which point I had enough of the silent treatment and said that if any of them had anything to say to me they could do so in person. Which made the group extremely angry because I was "silencing" them.

About three people got back to me, and all of their responses amounted to "we don't owe you an apology, our actions were justified because we thought you'd done something bad and we were just trying to protect [my ex] and the fact that you're upset about it proves you are bad" one of them compared me to their abuser.

They also said they'd been "having issues with my behavior for a long time now", I wish I could elaborate here in case it'd impact judgement, but I can't because none of them specified, and NOTHING of the sort had been brought up to me previously.

So. Again, I know I am the asshole to some extent, because regardless of my mindset me venting on my tumblr was still harmful, but I also feel like I was treated unfairly and cruelly by my former friends. AITA here?

What are these acronyms?

[lacyscabinet]

Nat comes back from hunting, and reader isn't there, and everyone didn't see her, and then Nat finds her in the small shack where shauna usually was with Jackie's body

Reader was huddled up with the sharpest knife, and it was covered in blood

(Basically reader was gonna commit)

I NEED ANGSTY 😓😓

SORRY IF THIS TRIGGERS :(

A/N: thank you for this request <3, as someone who has struggled and still struggles with sh, I feel like I need to spread a little message through this note, you are enough, I know that everybody says that, and I know that you might think it's pathetic, but it's true, it doesn't matter if you failed a test, broke up with your s/o, messed something up , did anything you regret doing or even not doing, or if you just don't feel like sticking around anymore, only one thing doesn't have a remedy. I struggle to believe it myself sometimes but in the end there is always something worth living for. Think about it. Emotional pep talk over, sorry for rambling, hope you'll like this fic<3

MASTERLIST

WARNINGS : knives, attempted suicide, suicidal ideation, depression, sh, blood

You're losing me

Another day hunting, another day without finding any game, everyone was starving back at the cabin, and the frustration Nat felt was sickening.

And the team worshipping Lottie and going as far as saying that Lottie was providing more food than her made Natalie see red.

Travis wasn't helping much these days, grieving his little brother, long story short, everyone was on edge, you more than anyone else.

Nobody really knew how much you were struggling, you tried to open up with Natalie once and she didn't really catch up on the way you felt, she just thought you were really sad that day and comforted you.

But it was deeper than that, at first when you all got stranded, you were full of life, hopeful to get rescued and go on with your life, but as the days, the weeks and the moths went by, the bright glimmer in your eyes dimmed gradually, only leaving a hint of emotions when you cried, you felt drained, tired and sick, not the type of tired that a good night of sleep could fix and not the type of sick that painkillers could tame.

And then, with all the things you've seen, all the things you did, it was all in order to survive of course, but you still did it, you did it.

As time went by you started to think about the way you would be way more useful if you died, not only you wouldn't have to eat food, leaving more for your teammates, but you also would become food, and a part of you hoped that someday you'll become useful to the others.

You thought and you even dreamed about it, not feeling pain anymore, not being completely useless anymore, and one day, you took matters into your own hands.

That day, a shivering Natalie, fresh out of another failed hunt, looked for you in the cabin, simply to spend some time with you since she was gone in the snow the whole day, she searched and searched but you were nowhere to be seen.

"Mari? Have you seen Y/N" Natalie asked the girl who was busy cooking something definitely not nutritious enough to make the team feel full, Mari shrugged "I saw her this morning, she was going out, I thought she was looking for you"

Nat frowned, thanking Mari and going into the living room, a bunch of the girls sat there around the fire, and of course, you weren't there

"God..." Shauna spoke up, looking around the room "Has anyone seen my knife? I think I lost it"

The others shrugged as Natalie reached for the door, searching for you outside.

She was used to the ironically burning cold, but still, it wasn't pleasant.

Walking around the outside of the cabin she couldn't help but curse you and hope you were okay at the same time.

After a faint noise she froze in her spot, paying attention to her surroundings, and then her eyes widened when she heard a loud sob.

Looking around, she realized that there was only one place the cries could come from, the tiny wooden shelter next to the cabin.

As she walked closer to it the noises just got louder and louder, and she was sure that it was you, she could recognize your voice everywhere after all, but "why is she crying?" Nat kept thinking.

When she entered the shed, she couldn't believe her eyes, yes, you were there, but Shauna's knife was there as well, covered in blood.

At first her mind wanted to believe that you found game on your way to join Nat in her daily hunt, and you were just cutting up pieces of deer meat, but when she noticed your sleeves rolled up and deep vertical slits on your wrists all the hope in her mind was gone.

She was losing you.

And you yourself, couldn't feel a thing, after the painful cuts, you found a certain peace in the warm feeling of blood pouring out of your veins, a bold contrast compared to the freezing weather.

Nat cursed, she was shocked, but she knew that she couldn't allow herself to be in shock, she had to help, she had to do something .

She was losing you.

"Hey! Hey! Can you hear me? Please baby, can you hear me?" She cried out kneeling next to your body

You weren't completely unconscious, wobbling between the two worlds, and in a moment of consciousness, the only thing you could say was "Nat..."

She instantly replied, eagerly trying to get some more words from you "What baby?"

"You can... when it's time, you can...you can eat me, you have my permission...please do it Nat, you deserve to live"

Natalie couldn't believe the words coming out of your mouth "No, no, don't say that, you are gonna be okay, you're gonna be fine"

And in that moment your vision went black.

She lost you.

For three hours. The worst three hours of her life.

As soon as you passed out, she picked you up and brought you back inside.

After seeing your conditions everyone was alarmed, Tai quickly stitched you up as best as she could, and then Nat proceeded to clean you up from all the blood you lost.

Coach Ben let the girls lay you down in his small room, and after that they all collectively decided to leave you alone with Nat for a while.

She held your hand the whole time, clinging to the feeling that you weren't gone, you couldn't be gone, your heart was still beating, a faint beating, but it was working.

When you opened your eyes, she was there, squeezing your hand with her own, eyes closed and a tear stained face

Just like in the movies you thought, but you weren't in a safe hospital at the end of a movie, you were at the start of your little personal hell.

And even when she held you tightly after she noticed your wide eyes, you couldn't help but wish you were somewhere else.

After all, maybe she really lost you that day.

A/N: I think I just poured my soul into this fic. Hope you enjoyed, stay safe <3

[saintobio]

HELLOOO FINALLY GOT TO SEND AN ASK!!!

first of allllll…. i think the time momjo sending the child guardian paper (?) that satoru typed out of anger is a hint…. and then satoru telling yn that sachiro called akemi mama… this honestly hurts alot more, imahine carrying your baby for 9 months, taking care of baby sachiro for 3 years alone, all the sleepless nights… and sachiro just ugh u dumbass small brain toddler (literally). anyways, satoru looking at akemi during suguru and shoko’s wedding, his hand rubbing akemi’s stomach at the cabin when she was in pain. honestly this part was akemi faking her pain or…? cuz there was a line that said after satoru asked if she wanted to go home her face didnt show anymore pain ? lololll idk. i dislike (hate) gojokemi but i think theyre gonna be endgame with all these theories coming up oh godddd. and the way yn threw the necklace into the lake, satoru went to search for it but did he manage to find it ? no. but during sn yn (well, suguru) found gojos wedding band. so in sy, yn threw away satoru’s “heart”, and it was never found again, thats a hint (?) bruhhh i hate thissss (i love this so much actually it made me feel so much i love u saint) i also recall the first time satoru and akemi first did it together he said smthg like i could learn to love u ? if i remember correctly. and the morning at the cabin after yn and gojo did it, yn was crying bcs they had a heartfelt talk ? and u mentioned they both felt guilty. the guilt is…. yeah.

BUT ALSO, satoru once said that yn has always been the one, sera when she saw gojo after forever told sukuna that he looks different when hes being with akemi, like hes not being himself? but that was when they first got together so idk about now. him not calling gojokemi exclusive. oh how they were happy and loving when yn got pregnant 🥹 but well it lasted until… yeah. also u said something about gojo gonna be on his knees again, since yn is now depressed and suicidal, i think for her heart disease shes gonna sign a DNR, then satoru on his knees maybe begging the doctors idk gawd idk someone mentioned dnr and i just… 🙂 its not that she wanna leave sachiro either, but i think shes telling herself everything will be better if she dies since sachiro, still very young, doesnt even really remember yn (just why sachiro) and called akemi mama… also why the hell didnt gojo use protection when fucking akemi oh gawd pls hate u satoru if she gets preggo.

anyways, i cant wait for gen to be back. i love u gen and ian.

oooh i also remember that you said there was a scene that inspired the birth of sn/sy, was it in chapter 11 ? or we’re not there yet…

honestly why dont yn just join shoko and suguru and be in a happy poly relationship ever looollll just kidding. my heart hurts, im still all in for gojoyn endgame but it doesnt seem realistic. ive been cursing gojo and akemi ever since the chapter came out loolll gotta give myself credit for being able to do my exams while still thinking bout this. 💀

omg there’s a lot to unfold here idk where to start 😭 but i just wanna say, it’s amazing how you’re so thorough in remembering those details in sn/sy bcos i honesty don’t have enough attention span to do that !!! sdjsj now while i can’t answer everything you mentioned, i can say a few things:

- akemi isn’t faking her pain, she’s truly struggling from it

- gojo doesn’t want kids outside of marriage (or should i say if not with yn), so he’s definitely careful with it.

- yes, it is indeed sy11 that birthed the sequel :’) i had that scene in mind before sn was even finished

[londonlights724]

I’m at a true loss for words, but also feel like I have so much to say? The last 24 hours haven’t felt real. I don’t think the news really sunk in until I saw the posts from Louis, Zayn, Harry and the official 1D account.

I created an account on Tumblr all the way back in 2011, specifically for this group of 5 boys from the UK who had stolen my heart. I can still remember the feeling of hearing them sing for the first time. Funny enough it wasn’t WMYB; the music video for Gotta Be You was recommended on YouTube and the rest is history.

I was a freshman-sophomore when the boys fame started to really take off, and my love for them as well. High school was a very rough time for me with body dysmorphia, anxiety and depression. I would self harm because I had all of these feelings that I didn’t know how to express or who to express them to. Until I found the boys.

It sounds dramatic to say they saved my life.. but they truly did. Something clicked after that first song, and suddenly life didn’t feel so hard and scary. I made friends because of One Direction. My first “adult” concert (aka old enough to get the tickets myself) was their first tour of America - the Up All Night tour. Olly Murs opened and even though I was up in the rafters, it was the greatest moment of my life up until that point.

After that concert, I wore the T-shirt I bought from the merch tent all the time. After a while it got so gross and old, that I didn’t have any real reason to keep it. But I did. Something inside of me wouldn’t let me get rid of it.

Today I pulled that old shirt out and just held it. Lord knows it doesn’t fit anymore but even just holding it flooded the memories back into my brain. Memories of waking up at 3AM for album releases, of waiting in line for special editions of the albums, of seeing This Is Us in theaters many times. The memory of skipping class the day Zayn left to sit with the shock, and the memory of how it felt to hear the word hiatus.

All that’s to say once the boys went on hiatus, I started to drift away from the fandom. I still followed all the boys’ careers loosely, but really only Harry I followed in detail. So seeing the news a few years back about Liam’s substance abuse struggles, I was pleasantly surprised to hear about his sobriety in 2023. Especially after the interviews he had done during the time when he was struggling with addiction (ahem Logan Paul).

To then all culminate into the abuse allegations brought forth by Maya in the last few weeks. It was so disappointing to hear. That someone that I looked up to as a teenager could be capable of the things being reported. I wanted justice for Maya and I wanted Liam held accountable but to also be able to get the help he has needed for years, but doesn’t seem to have gotten.

I think one thing I’ve struggled with is mourning for the person I loved as a teen, who wasn’t the same person as an adult that did terrible things. It’s complicated. But understanding both things can be true, helps make processing this grief easier.

I send all of my love, thoughts and prayers to Liam’s parents, sisters and family. To his son, Bear. To his brothers, Harry, Louis, Niall and Zayn. To Kate. To Maya. To his friends and all those close to him. And lastly, to all the fellow Directioners processing this together.

Please remember to take time away from social media when things feel heavy. If you’re struggling, please reach out to someone - heck, my inbox is always open if you just need someone. Just don’t feel like you have to carry anything alone.

If you’re in the US, calling or texting 988 will put you in contact with someone from the suicide hotline, NAMI (Nat’l Alliance on Mental Illness). If you, or someone you know, struggles with substance abuse, you can contact the National Drug Abuse Helpline at 1-800-662-4357.

Love, Jo. ❤️‍🩹

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Dog Days Are Over

Summary: The Reader is struggling with severe depression, and Alec Hardy comforts her.

A/N: inspired by one of @denaliwrites Alec stories! This one made me cry several times while writing it, it’s pretty much my experience minus Alec (unfortunately.)

TW: talk of severe depression, suicidal thoughts/ideation, body dysmorphia, and not beta read because it was hard to write

She sat on the couch, curled up in a corner while 'The Office' continued playing on the telly. She'd been mindlessly scrolling on her phone all day, not really noticing anything on there but not wanting to look away from a screen. Then she might see the real world for all it was, and today wasn't the time for that.

Y/N glanced at Michael Scott as he put on a stupid hat to impress some stupid friend of Pam's. She felt a tension in her shoulders, along her back and arms, but she tried to ignore it. Tried to bury herself amongst the blankets and pillows of the couch. It wasn't working, why wasn't it working?

She adjusted her pillows, and nothing. She got bored of the Instagram reels that always turned into mommy bloggers she didn't like to see. The telly grew louder and she suddenly found Michael Scott bordering on obnoxious and not funny. The room was so goddamn warm in there but she knew she couldn't change from her comfy clothes because she didn't want to wear a bra. If she changed into something remotely hugging her figure, she'd feel as though she had to wear a bra and start the day. It was so fucking stupid the way her brain was wired.

She tried to ignore it.

Then she got a sudden pang of guilt, a feeling that was brewing at the surface but she tried to shove down. She worried that everyone at work would absolutely hate her for not coming in. That they'd know she was lying about being sick and think she was a terrible worker, that she didn't provide anything, she was incompetent and slow and everyone was wondering why she couldn't get her fucking act together. She worried that when she wasn't there they'd be saying awful things. How stupid she was, how needy and desperate for attention and validation and pathetic.

The voices came whirring at her. She hadn't even realized they'd been speaking this entire time until they all started screaming at her. The voices battered like a ram, tore through her chest, attacking and spitting venomous words. Her lungs seemed to recede inside her, clenching for an oxygen that wasn't there. Suddenly her vision was blurring, hiccups came bursting from her lips in broken sobs and she could feel that heaviness in her chest like her heart was going to explode. She couldn't breathe with that weight, there was no oxygen. Y/N felt as though her skin was itchy and thin and it just wouldn't come off. If she could tear it all off to make it go away she would.

The loudest voice screamed out, "Everyone hates you! You are the worst human to exist and we wish you would just die already!" Her fingers buried in her hair, holding the roots tightly and her cheeks were burning hot. She wanted to scream but didn't have the energy. The voice kept screaming and screaming, "they hate you, they hate you, they hate you! You're the worst person ever!"

And it's all true, that's the most despicable part. She believed every foul thing that voice said was right in the truest sense of the word. No logic could stop her brain from believing that she was stupid and slow and incompetent.

She believed all the things they said, that she was fat and ugly, and her nose wasn't right, her skin wasn't right, her stomach was horrendous, she could never be beautiful or sexy or smart. She ruined every chance she had for it, and one day Alec was going to see how horrific she was and he'd flee. He'd spout viscous things and they would be right. She deserved all of it and worse. There was no man that deserved the hell she provided, she was the worst it could get.

Then she kept chiding herself, trying to stop this delusion she was building in her mind. She'd say, Y/N, that's not fair, you've worked on this. Y/N, you're on medication, this shouldn't be how you think. You're better now. Y/N, talk yourself out of it. Y/N, you're jumping to conclusions. And all the while she's sinking and building evidence to false realities. She wonders if she's insane, if she should be locked up then has to remind herself she's not Joe Miller. But a wicked part of her wishes she was, so these feelings would be justified.

There was no way to explain this to friends and family. No way to explain that this was her thoughts almost all the time, and the times she wasn't thinking like this it was lying low. But it never left. But everyone had depression these days, she wasn't unique. And if everyone else could live, then surely she could to.

She retracted her fingers from her hair, prying off the strands that came with it. Her cheeks were still painfully hot but she wiped the tears away. Michael Scott was still doing something stupid on the telly, and she had her phone on her lap. She wanted to call Alec. He'd said to call if she felt anything, said he wanted to be there for her. But wouldn't this be a burden? Wouldn't he find her repulsive after this? Not want to deal with it. She didn't want to either. She didn't want to deal with this anymore, she was so tired. And surely Alex's life would be easier with one less person to deal with? With one less mess to clean up, no worrying about her.

But it was those thoughts that forced her to call him. She knew that those thoughts were bad, that those thoughts led to bad things. And though she was humiliated, wanted to hide away from him, she knew it was for him she had to call. He'd be so hurt if she left. He'd blame himself, and that wasn't fair.

"Darlin?" His voice filled the silence.

Her breath shuddered and she sniffled like a baby, "Alec."

"What's happened?" His voice was stern, alert. With that one word he sensed that she wasn't okay.

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing."

She let out a pathetic laugh, "no, Alec. I don't want you to worry."

"I'll be there in 15." Then he hung up. She gaped at the phone. Y/N didn't want Alec to see her like this, so broken and battered. He didn't deserve this.

Her heart started to race and she treated every sound as a threat. She looked horrible, she was certain her breath stank and her cheeks were flushing and her hair was going every which way. She looked fat and greasy, her clothes had stains. Oh God, oh God.

The door opened with no preamble. She shut her eyes and waited for him to yell, to be furious that there was no true emergency. It's not like she'd cut herself. There were footsteps and then the couch beside her dipped, but she felt no touch.

"Darlin?" Alec spoke softly, his accent sliding through her flat. Michael Scott seemed a distant image. "Are you alright?"

She didn't want to open her eyes. As childish as it was, she felt that if she didn't seem him then the issue was resolved. "I'm fine."

There was a pause, "May I see your beautiful eyes?"

With a shaky breath, she peaked through her lashes at Alec. He was sat beside her, brows furrowed in concern as he looked at her. His coat had raindrops on it, his hair mused and looking like chocolate. His beard needed to he shaved but she hated when he did. And in those stupid, beautiful brown eyes, she saw a love so raw and unconditional she couldn't stand it.

Tears fell down her cheeks and her hands went back to her hair. She could feel herself retreating, curling into a hall and away from the world that hated her. But Alec was so soft.

"Darlin, can I touch you?"

She whimpered a yes.

Warm, calloused hands came to her own in her hair. The touch was not harsh, yet it wasn't shy either. Alec wanted to love Y/N and keep her safe, even if it meant from herself. He brought them down, holding them firmly. Then he lifted her chin so she would look at him. Her lips began to quiver.

"How long has it been since you've showered?"

The question caught her off guard. She'd expected him to pry into what she was feeling and tell her why all of it was wrong and he loved her. Which was incredibly sweet, but would have hurt her so much. She'd feel like a burden. But this wasn't what she anticipated. "Uh, um, a few days."

"Do you care to take a shower with me?" He smiled, his Scottish accent lilting the words. "I need one from the rain."

She nodded nimbly. Alec got up from the sofa first, then helped her up though she didn't need it. They walked to her bedroom, where Alec went through her drawers to find a clean pair of underwear and pajamas. She felt her heart smile when he pulled one of his shirts she'd stolen as her top. He had his own pair kept in her drawers as well.

Alec walked softly as he went and turned the shower on, letting the water patter against the tile.

"Y/N, do you think we could take your dirty clothes off?" Alec asked, letting the tiniest of smiles cross his face. She'd learned to cherish that look, because it wasn't one many got. But right now, she felt selfish for getting to see it when she didn't earn it. Y/N nodded.

He helped take off her pajamas, each piece with care and precision. She felt like she was a wounded animal he was bringing back to life. That guilt forged its way in her heart. Alec placed a hand on her hip, the other on the back of her neck. Though she was naked, and he was about to be, it wasn't sexual in nature. It was intimate, and loving. Alec's voice was rough as he grumbled out, "Now you stop that bad thought. I love you as you are."

Her lips parted and her eyebrows shot up in surprise, she hadn't said a word. But Alec just pressed a kiss to her forehead. Soon they were both naked and they got into the steaming shower. Alec let her stand under the warmth, hands stroking her sides in ginger caresses. He was just appreciating her as she was.

Alec couldn't pretend to understand exactly what went through Y/N's head. It wouldn't be fair to her. But he did know that he loved her deeply, and that no matter what he'd stay with her. If she didn't know who she was, he would remind her if only for a moment to be with her.

With his long, dexterous fingers, he washed Y/N's hair. She stood awkwardly, letting it rain over her. It felt nice. The little pelts of hot water had a steady rhythm, only interrupted by Alec’s kind hands massaging her scalp. She felt the tears slip down her face in steady streams, but didn’t bother to hide them.

Alec quickly shampooed his own hair, then took his time with the body wash to take care of Y/N. He lavished her but in the most sincere way a person could. No agenda, just making sure that with each part of her body he cleaned that she knew he loved her. And she did, she knew he loved her more than anything. That’s what made it so hard.

The water ran lukewarm and Alec got out quickly to wrap a big, fluffy towel around her. He helped dry her with the towel, helped her into her pajamas.

“You want braids, love?”

“You know how to braid?” Her voice sounded so small. Alec nodded and parted her wet hair, french braiding it out of her way. His fingers were nimble.

“Come on, darling, let us get something to eat.”

Alec walked with her down the stairs, going into her fridge until he found some ingredients to make omelets, which he knew she liked. With gentle hands, Alec came and placed Y/N on the counter so she could be right there as he made the food.

“Cheese?”

“Yes please.”

It was a quiet sort of appreciation with Alec. Y/N could tell he wanted to blurt out his love but this quiet approach, this simply taking care of her, hit a part of her heart she didn’t know it would hit. She could feel her soul opening just slightly. He couldn’t fix her, that wasn’t how this worked, but she could feel him loving her.

He helped down from the counter and brought the plates to the sofa. Alec put on a different sitcom, gave her the plate, and settled in.

After a pause where she stared at the plate and wondered the different ways she could jump off the earth, she said, “You don’t have to stay.”

“I’d like to,” he said with a bite of omelet.

“I don’t want you to stay.” The words were harsh, and untrue, but the humiliation of being this way made her angry. She wanted to lash out at him if it could only take away from the pain in her heart.

“Tough luck, darling. I’m here to stay.”

That was when the sob broke out. A deep, heart wrenching sob that make the plate fall to the floor, carpet covered in a cheesy omelet he had just made for her. Y/N covered her mouth as though the sounds would stop but they didn’t.

Alec came and scooped her up, letting her rest on his lap, head on his shoulder. He hummed just slightly, hands running comforting strokes on her body, lips kissing her forehead.

“You don’t deserve this,” she hiccuped. “You don’t deserve this mess.”

Alec looked down and grabbed her chin, forcing him to look at her. “Y/N, you listen to me. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t choose to have depression, you didn’t choose it.”

“But you can choose. You need to leave, you deserve-”

“I want you. I want you, Y/N. I don’t care about this, we’ll fight it together.”

“Why do you want this? I’m broken.”

He brought her hand and let it rest on his heart, above his scar. “So am I, Darlin. You can’t carry it with you if you want to survive.”

She cried softly onto Alec, and he held her all the same. It didn’t get better like that, but it seemed to help cement something in Y/N. Alec wasn’t going anywhere, and she wasn’t alone. The dog days will be over, and the horses will come. Alec kissed her forehead and held her close.

[venus-is-thinking]

DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 12: Initial Thoughts

Hello everyone! I thought it'd be fun to do a post going over some of my first thoughts from the episode after each release. "Initial" is a bit of a stretch, considering I did watch it a second time while making this post, but it's more "initial" in the context of being before the next episode drops. It's sort of like my "initial thoughts" of the Milgram MVs, which are actually the result of, like, 3 hours of obsessing and research, lol.

(By the way, @accirax and I watched the episode together, so apologies if her initial thoughts end up being, like, the same as mine.)

SPOILER WARNING FOR DRDT CH 2 EP 12!

T/W: Body image issues/body dysmorphia, murder, suicide

The Reactions

Confirmation of what I think most of us already suspected! I do think it's a little weird that Nico didn't bring up their testimony about all of the fish being there at the last time they fed the fish. That probably means it's being saved for later in the Trial, I guess?

It's okay Teruko, I saw literally no one in the entire fanbase figure this one out either!

Why is everyone so mean to her though. Everyone here has been an idiot in the Trials at LEAST once

God I missed David

This was so funny. Get his ass.

(In all seriousness, though, I do wonder if we're going to come back to what J said. I don't currently (?) think Arei was drenched, unless the real purpose of the water WAS just to confuse the time of death, so if the water didn't connect with her enough to cool her down, it might be weird that the body isn't warm after all.)

This took me out. Who let you say that. What.

Okay, but Ace, outside of a killing game... why. Like, literally why would a plastic surgeon need to know how to do an autopsy. King.

Like Felicity...? /hj

All in all, though, this was a really interesting character moment for Arturo! And god, the fact that he started learning medical knowledge and spedrun plastic surgery specifically since age 12 HAS to mean something. My vague theories of Felicity having struggles with body image/dysmorphia (Arturo's section of this post) are... maybe real???

Honestly, I'm starting to wonder if Arturo is going to go farther in this game. I don't expect him to survive or anything, but I could see it taking him a surprisingly long time to die. He feels like he's got too much lore to unpack to die, like, next chapter. Unless he gets HELLA focused next chapter, which is definitely possible.

This is so silly. I love them.

(Note: I'm not a Whit mastermind truther, but if I were, I would point out that MonoTV sort of covering up a rules violation for Whit could be relevant. I'm not a Whit mastermind truther though, so I think this is just a very silly joke a la "no wifi! why live :(" )

Well you see Eden, the killer would have actually had all night to prepare. If, say, they mentioned that they could dial in and focus on their work for like 14 hours straight, they could have gotten a lot done before 7:30 AM!

I'll talk about this more later, but the fact that J, David, Veronika, Hu and Nico seemingly have alibis that actually matter is so iconic. I can't believe that many theories died that quick. I'll talk about that more in my theories section, though!

It's been said before, but. Funniest fucking reaction to being declared innocent of murder.

"David still has a family history of depression even if that isn't his secret" nation where you at?

This one made me laugh out loud. Who does it like him

How truthful do we think David is in this next section? I refuse to believe it's 100% a lie, just because he's cooking SO hard on SOMETHING, but I could also believe David thinks he's lying to an extent. I could definitely see a "the best lies are based on the truth" kind of thing?

Also, damn. Xanvid really is real. LGI got me to believe it but WOW David's just being gay on main now

This was a really good, succinct way to have Teruko show her opposition to David's ideas. Even if it is to end the killing game or do something "good' or whatever, Teruko is still hurt and betrayed by what Xander did. Xander tried to kill her, and presumably would have tried to kill everyone else. David is now doing the same thing.

It's going to be really interesting if, whether genuine or not, David is kinda taking on Xander's position. That's going to give Teruko a reason to (outwardly) hate him even more. I'm really looking forward to learning more about how both Teruko and David view Xander.

Also, it's so fucking funny that Teruko and David are literally fighting over Xander. Like, valid, but. Guys.

(Also, David soooo knows Teruko's secret is the killing game is all your fault. Idk if he specifically knows that Xander's plan was to kill Teruko no matter what, but he's definitely caught on to some extent.)

This was crazy. Is Xander famous? Why would everyone recognize him? Like, did David just take particular notice of Xander because he's a simp, or is there something else going on?

Notably, it's also extremely interesting that David says "Even if you all lost a year of memories for this killing game." It almost implies that David didn't? What do you know???

Also, if David DOES have weird memories about this that no one else does, it's a really interesting comparison to Teruko remembering the existence of a killing game in the area investigation when she was talking to Veronika. Are these two getting special memory privileges because they're important? Or does everyone have some kind of memory that they all should have, but only one person knows each thing?

At first I was confused when David said this, because I really don't know how dear anyone in DRDT's life to him was other than Xander. But then I realized, if David is talking about killing 15 others and yourself, he's definitely still talking about Xander's mindset. Xander had something worth the lives of 16 people that he was trying to do.

I don't know how much David cares about ending the killing game. I wonder if "belief in Xander" is the thing he's willing to kill 13 people plus himself for?

I'm starting to get REALLY curious what J's deal is. Between this and her voiced line earlier in the trial saying something along the lines of "it's like you all still haven't grasped just how serious murder is," she definitely seems to have strong opinions on specifically the morality of killing other people. WHY is she being singled out with these beliefs, what does it say about her, and where is her character headed?

(If she is the mastermind, does this couple with the "all murderers must be held accountable" rule?)

"Any answer" is so funny. I think she's looking for the truthful answer, David. This is why no one believes you when you say anything ever /aff

Notably, this is VERY similar to the plan Eden came up with that Veronika described: using the fact that TV shows need entertainment to continue to end the killing game. It's the same thing, but with a much more depressed "everyone should just give up" kind of flavor.

The level of similarity does make me think David is probably not being 100% truthful, and that he just repurposed Eden's escape plan to be something sort of similar to what he was going for.

I do think that he WAS trying to defeat the killing game by killing people through the class trial. I just think that, between Xander's actions and the motive secret he received, he was trying to kill Teruko specifically. Yet another way that David's unhinged behavior ties into the Chapter 2 secrets.

*Hu hopeless child looms in the distance*

I'm so glad that Hu gets to pop off though. She really hasn't gotten, like, any content in the series so far. Here's hoping this is kicking off her getting a bunch of time to shine!

Interesting that they had both Ace and Hu cut Nico off in this interaction. The staging definitely implies that they're trying to show that while Ace is wrong for talking over Nico and not letting them say anything, Hu is also wrong to an extent for not letting Nico defend themself and running to their rescue all the time.

I am begging you. Please discuss the murder method. I didn't realize until my rewatch of the trial that they have actually literally not talked about the murder method at ALL except for telling David that he doesn't know shit about it.

HUH?????????????

Theory Update/Analysis

Well, I'm gonna start this off by saying that I'm still pretty locked into Eden being the killer. We still need to address the tape, and I personally still found her to be decently shifty now behavior wise (she seemed nervous when we turned back to solving the trial, and she says something about "it's too hard to narrow down the killer :/" when people were talking about morning alibis). I just think it makes the most sense.

While obviously my logic for why Levi would be the accomplice has to be at least somewhat flawed, given Levi's surprise confession (!!!), I still think it's possible that Levi is the accomplice here. He could be doing this to further confuse/complicate the state of things (hence why he calls it leading people astray), and it's possible he's not being 100% honest here.

Something that Levi could be doing here is taking control of the situation and spinning the truth in his favor. Hu mentioned earlier (e11, I think?) that the secrets are phrased dramatically. Similarly, Levi may be trying to offer an explanation for his secret that might be more tame, but still believable.

For example, if Levi says that he killed one of his parents because of the circumstances he grew up in, but it turned out that his parents were extremely abusive to him in some way (cough cough Amane Momose), wouldn't people be more willing to forgive the fact that he's a "murderer"? There are different levels to the culpability of murders.

So, it's definitely possible this is still an attempt by Levi to conceal the truth of his secret. It's true that, right now, no one's really trying to match all of the remaining secrets up with the remaining secret holders in-universe, but the entire fanbase pretty much slam dunked this one. Once the content of the secrets was revealed, it wasn't too difficult to track the origin of this secret to Levi. Levi might know that, and might be trying to spin it in a positive way while he can get everyone's attention and tell everyone the same narrative here in the class trial.

I don't think any Levi accomplice or killer truthers have to fully give up on the idea, or at least not until we see what Levi actually says after this. It's a WILD topic to reveal we're going to talk about, but we haven't actually talked about it yet. If we were told "we get David's motivations for trying to throw the trial," I doubt literally any of us would have locked in the prediction of "David is trying to follow in Xander's footsteps by killing everyone via the trial because he kind of remembers Xander." So, until next week, I'm keeping an open mind!

This was insane. I can't believe we actually got a new episode, and that we're gonna KEEP getting new episodes until the chapter finishes. What the fuck!!!