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xvysarene · 18 days

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𝕌𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕕

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader Prompt: “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you.” Words: ~2.5k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Antagonist MC, Mentions of wounds

His childhood friend exuded energy just as vibrant as her Anhausen class Evol, captivating those around her with her bubbly demeanor.

However, beneath the cheerful façade lay a calculated use of charm, a trait you couldn't help but notice, especially in her interactions with Zayne.

As a senior hunter, your responsibilities included supervising new recruits, and you discerned her manipulative tendencies over time.

"Just because you've seen me at my weakest, you’re not entitled to pass judgment on those dear to me. It proves how I've known her longer and better, as she would never stoop so low as to speak ill of you. I don’t need you babysitting me."

Quick to defend his adored friend and seemingly caught up in emotion, he voiced those unfavorable words your way.

You knew Zayne was a direct person, but being on the receiving end of those words hurt. Especially as you later realized that you harbored feelings towards the cold doctor, feelings that had unknowingly woven into what you had always believed to be a purely platonic friendship between the two of you.

“—and you’re here because?”

His voice jolted you out of your reverie.

Somehow, standing in the exact spot where your last conversation occurred, resulting in months of silence between the two of you, had clouded your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, trying to focus back on the present moment. “Greyson and Yvonne have been trying to get in touch with you.”

When news about Dr. Zayne taking recuperative leave had spread like wildfire throughout the UNICORNS, you had considered reaching out to him.

Your fingers had hovered over the phone, composing and deleting messages repeatedly.

In the end, you completely abandoned the notion altogether when you heard his childhood friend’s not-so-subtly mentioning her plan to visit and cook for him while chatting with the short-haired girl from the Data Analysis sector.

“I’m fine,” he managed to huff out after a while.

Taking a swift glance at the unexpected mess on his kitchen counters—scattered papers and remnants of food packaging—you challenged him. "I thought we had moved beyond the superficial 'I'm fine' responses when asking about each other's well-being."

Zayne didn’t reply and you noted that he had absentmindedly leaned his long legs against the kitchen counter as if seeking support from it.

“You, the Chief Cardiac Surgeon of Akso Hospital, someone who enjoys his lack of free time, couldn't possibly have felt 'just fine' after being placed on recuperative leave."

“I wasn't aware that you still kept tabs on my whatabouts," he retorted, eyes slightly gleaming competitively. However, they lacked the usual spark; instead, they hinted at tiredness and something indefinable that looked familiar but you couldn't quite pinpoint.

“I understand that your friend has probably visited you, but my great buddies insisted I come and check on you. They didn’t want to pester, but after two days of no answer, they are beginning to worry.” You raised your hands in a gesture of surrender. “Though if I’m not welcome, I’ll leave you be.”

As you moved past him towards the front door, you felt yourself emotionally drained from the brief exchange.

“Why you, specifically?” his whisper caused you to stop in your tracks.

“They know we are—” you stopped yourself, “used to be each other’s confidant. They thought you might be willing to speak to me if not to them.”

He chuckled dryly. “Used to…”

His muttered words compelled you to turn. Your hunter’s awareness noticed how he had subtly shifted, leaning more against the counter with one hand supporting his weight while his body slightly hunched forward, facing your retreating figure.

His body trembled with involuntary shivers, and the silver-framed glasses that had been perched on his nose earlier now lay discarded on top of the black granite.

“What’s wrong?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

Your eyes instantly snapped to his arms, expecting to see the familiar bluish hue and the delicate, yet deadly patterns of ice crystals.

Instead, you saw fresh cuts on the back of his hand. Both of them.

A sound must have escaped your lips because Zayne quickly tugged at his light gray pajama sleeves, trying to cover his hands. He took a step back as he heard you stomping towards him.

Helplessly, he played a brief game of tug-of-war with you before yielding to your unexpected strength.

“What the hell,” you breathed out as you took the angry red marks marring his pale skin, making them stand out more. When you rolled up his sleeves further, you discovered fresh lacerations, a chilling reminder of the frost's icy grip.

You cupped his cheeks. It took his gaze a moment to gradually refocus on you, seemingly startled by the sudden skin contact. “Zayne, what happened?”

His lips were sealed shut. He began to resist, however, as you guided him towards his bedroom, but your hunter strength slightly won over his sluggish state.

Zayne watched you intensively check his wounds after you managed to get him to bed. They were more severe than the scratches you saw after you had cradled his frozen arms and succeeded in defrosting them using your Evol. It was when you found him beating himself up in regret for failing to save your partner during surgery.

As you stood up to fetch the medical supplies, his hand swiftly caught your forearm, surprising you with its speed. "You don’t have to take care of me," he insisted.

“Respectfully, Zayne,” you began, knowing he'd grimace at your next choice of words, “Fuck your pride and let me look after you.”

Seeing his familiar disapproving grimace at the brash word, you chuckled quietly to yourself.

Your boldness and recklessness often clashed with his calm and collected nature, one that left people wondering how a friendship could blossom between two such opposites.

As the antiseptic scent filled the air and silence enveloped the room while you tended to his arms, memories flooded back to the griefful night when you had lost your partner.

He had treated your temporarily forgotten battle wounds after the frost had thawed from his arms.

“It’s not your fault,” Zayne had spoken softly as he cleaned your wounds.

Your breath stuttered, surprised by the doctor's attempt to console you. Many people regarded him as highly reserved due to the carefully crafted mask of indifference he wore.

"The other staff told me what happened. You couldn’t have known that he was bitten; a child Chlorostaga leaves a very small puncture, and it would only feel like an ant has bitten you. With adrenaline running high, he wouldn’t have felt a thing."

“He told me that his heart was racing unusually fast during the transport back,” you whispered, feeling the tears clouding your vision. “And I jokingly suggested he needed to do more exercise.

“He laughed at it until—“ you forced down the bile rising in your throat before being able to continue, “until he suddenly collapsed from cardiac arrest. We were only a few minutes out before arriving here to treat our wounds.”

Zayne continued gently dressing your gashes as you recounted the last moment with your partner. “His last memory was of happiness with you, feeling fulfilled knowing he had once again protected Linkon City from Wanderers... With his trusted partner."

The tears you had struggled to contain finally broke through, cascading down your cheeks in torrents. He held you close that day, offering comfort until every tear was dried.

From that moment, a bond seemed to form between both of you, drawing you closer from mere acquaintances to individuals you could trust with your deepest emotions. Only a few had ever witnessed each other's vulnerable state.

In the present, you noticed his breathing had calmed, and the hazel eyes that had been watching you carefully moments earlier had closed as you finished tending the last cut.

Gently smoothing out the crease between his brows, you couldn't help but wonder how troubled he must have been. “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you,” you whispered, afraid of him hearing your secret.

You had tried to shield yourself from future heartache after you slammed his front door the day he had spoken harshly. Yet, seeing him so vulnerable, your caring for him only deepened.

Listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing, an unexpected exhaustion washed over you like a tidal wave.

Sleep claimed you swiftly, and it wasn't until you felt Zayne's gentle touch on your shoulder that you awoke.

“You’re going to strain the muscle in the back of your neck sleeping like that.”

Still groggy from the unplanned nap, you couldn’t protest as Zayne easily deposited you to the space he occupied earlier, as if you weighed nothing.

Your skin flushed hot feeling his fleeting touch behind your knees. Blinking, you met his gaze as he settled back beside your feet on the bed, already looking much better than before.

As the heat from his body permeated the wool blend of his pajama pants, you could feel it warming the tips of your toes. “Are you feeling any better?”

He nodded, casting a glance down at his arms adorned with scattered adhesive strips. Awkwardness filled the air as you both grappled with the ever-present unresolved tension.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled softly. You looked up, startled.

"I'm sorry," he repeated more clearly. His hazel eyes, appearing browner under the dim lighting, seeking yours. "For saying those hurtful words to you, for failing to accompany you on mourning day."

Your eyes widened, surprised that he even remembered about the day that had occurred months earlier.

When he didn’t appear at the cemetery of fallen hunters on mourning day, an annual tradition to honor your late partner whom he couldn't save, you learned just how much he cherished his childhood friend.

While he hadn't explicitly promised to join every year, he had always done so without fail. At that time, you couldn't help but feel disappointed when you discovered he had spent the day with his childhood friend instead.

And perhaps, an ugly thorn of jealousy had begun to bloom inside your heart.

"Greyson gave me an earful after he found out about our... conflict, and then he pieced together why I was absent that day. Why didn’t you remind me?”

You broke away from his gaze, not prepared for the sudden query. “You are under no obligation to accompany me, so there's nothing to apologise for."

"I absolutely have to apologise, for on the day you mourn for your late partner the most, I callously had fun with my friend."

And there it was, his childhood friend once again stealing the spotlight in your conversation. You felt the barriers you erected creeping back into place.

"It's getting dark outside, I should head home," you said, retracting your legs and hurriedly standing up.

However, a warm hand on your wrist carefully pulled you back down, knee bumping with yours.

"I was ensnared by my memory of her innocence from our childhood," he confessed, voice heavy with regret. "She envied the deep connection we share and after overhearing your conversation with Yvonne, purposefully suggested a day trip to our hometown that exact day. She exploited my weakness for her gain, knowing my fond memories of our past together."

Zayne tenderly unraveled each of your tightly clenched fingers, soothing the nail marks that had etched into your palm.

It was one of your bad habits, surfacing whenever anxiety and stress took hold. Ever the observant person that he was, it was something he was well aware of.

Your breath hitched as he wove his fingers with yours, larger palm easily covering your smaller one.

"I'm the one who foolishly let myself be blinded and stooped so low, wrongly accusing you when your intentions were nothing but good-hearted." He swiped a hand over his face in frustration. “People praised me for my good judgement, but I evidently failed to make the most important one."

“And so this happened?” you gestured towards his arms with your other unoccupied hand. “Punishing yourself because you felt guilty for your lapse in judgment?”

She had heard bits and pieces of what happened from Greyson. The Chief Psychologist in the hospital had noticed Zayne’s peculiar behaviour for weeks—moments of zoning out and evident emotional distress.

Not wanting to jeopardise his patient’s health, he agreed to take a leave until he felt mentally prepared to return to his responsibilities, which required a clear mind above all else.

"No, it's me losing myself because I've taken advantage of the only person who understands me; to the extent of hurting that one person who, despite knowing her for a shorter time, has selflessly always been there for me." He placed a kiss on the back of your hand. "And fearing I may have already lost her, as I come to realize the depth of my feelings for her."

You whipped your head to fully face him, face flushed at his confession. His gaze unwavering, trapping you with fierce affection.

“You don’t need to say anything—”

“Zayne—”

“I just want to let you know that I’m sorry for causing you pain—”

“Zayne, I—”

“And I would understand if you don’t want to do anything with me again after everything that’s happened—”

"Zayne!" You moved to cover his mouth and lost your balance in the process, tumbling together onto the bed.

Him beneath you.

As you stumbled, his hand found the curve of your hip, supporting you from falling on top of him. While his other arm remained thrown over him, fingers still intertwined with yours amidst the sudden movement.

You could see him trying to mask his discomfort, no doubt feeling some of the deeper slashes being tugged.

"God, you really need to shut up sometime," you blurted out, catching Zayne off guard with your abrupt remark following his heartfelt revelation.

This close, you could see his pupils dilating at your close proximity, almost consuming the green in his eyes.

With profound confidence and a fuzzy feeling spreading inside your heart, you eased his mind. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The content smile painting his lips tugged at your heart. It was a genuine happiness that chipped away his usual cold demeanor.

He squeezed your hip and slowly urged you to lay on top of him, a silent invitation to be closer. Strong arms circled around as you nestled your head against his throat, enveloping you in his scent—grounding, and slightly musky, like the scent of a forest after rainfall.

“I never want you to lose control of your Evol over me again,” you warned him, eyes closing as you felt his lips pressing on your forehead.

“I can’t promise, but—” he interjected before you could interrupt him. “I’ll work on myself for the better. It’s the least I can do for the one who holds the dearest place in my heart.”

When you opened your eyes again, you could finally pinpoint that familiar glint in his eyes, the one you noticed when you confronted him hours earlier in the living room; it was endearment.

As you lay down on his bed that night, fingers gently combing through his tousled midnight-black hair as he rested against your chest, it dawned on you that the glow of affection had been there all along, subtly shimmering in his eyes throughout the years whenever you were by his side.

#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #hurt/comfort #fluff

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alicerosejensen · 17 days

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I love your page so much omg. I‘m literally obsessed with your work😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Also I have this imagination in my mind going on about how Leon would try to help his girlfriend from recovering from her mental health issues since she’s always helping him. I was recently thinking about how he would react finding her not moving on the bathroom floor and trying to bring her back! I rewatched American horror stories and the scene with tate and violet in the first season episode 6 (ig?) is always in my head. I‘m still recovering from my past and my unhealthy habits and tbh recovery never felt better.

If this is too much for you or triggering please ignore this.🫶🏼❤️

I had a terrible period in my life when I was a few steps away from doing something like this in my life and unfortunately this shit often comes out. I'm not sure that such texts help me work through my psychological traumas, which were, in fact, inflicted on me and continue to be inflicted by close people who do not consider me a person, but at least such works help me to vent my pain, which I cannot permanently bury in myself.

I have been postponing this request for a long time because I was probably waiting for the right moment to write this text.

There are mentions of suicide, psychological trauma, severe self-doubt and anxiety, so if this is not acceptable to you, then please just block it.

Perhaps there is a similarity with my previous texts, but I am writing this with strong emotions now that I am trying to cope with it again.

the text is chaotic, I repeat, written while I was under the influence of strong heavy emotions. Maybe I'll delete it later, when my brain gets back to normal a little bit.

If a songbird doesn't sing well, they wring its neck.

Maybe it was the costs of Leon's profession and the result of his constant missions, after which something human is gradually dying in him despite the constant struggle to save everyone. Raccoon City was supposed to teach, if not to survive, then make him begin to understand that some are doomed to die.

Leon Kennedy was taught not to offend, but to protect the weak, especially weak women. But it is difficult to calm the flow of disordered thoughts and put aside the fear that has seized him in order to clamp bloody wrists and apply something to them to stop the blood. Leon knew many strong women: Ada was perhaps the first among them, he did not know either her past or her real name, only the present that pushed their foreheads against each other; Claire, a fighting friend of misfortune that he met in that ill-fated city; Ashley, who turned from a baby eagle into a proud eagle; Angela Miller and others…

Your strength dissolves in the water, coloring it scarlet while your heart stubbornly still beats, let the rhythm noticeably shorten.

In truth, over the past few months it became clear that this was the only way out. When even your loved ones considered you an expired product and did not hesitate to remember this and remind you every time. In the end, their words turned into an obsessive worm that settled in your head, slowly day after day, month after month, devouring you and the circumstances seemed to be not in your favor. Instead of support, you somehow faced reproach, as if the universe was screaming that you were an wrong person, nature's mistake who had no right to live.

Escape attempts were doomed to failure. At first you tried to suppress it in yourself, helping Leon, because, in your opinion, he was the only one who had the right to complain about life, although he did not do this in front of you, because everyone said that you had no problems: you have everything limbs, there are no fatal diseases, all loved ones are healthy and there is a roof over your head, as if this is enough to not fall for nonsense and not walk around forever with a sad face.

This was the last time you shared your experiences. You didn’t even bother telling Leon, but everything inside was torn from constant pain. The feeling was as if you were being beaten by two extremes that led you to the edge of an abyss where you ultimately voluntarily jumped.

no, you really loved him, it was just other people’s words and your own speculation that convinced you, despite your strong relationship with him, that Leon would find someone better, someone more confident in himself, someone who would not be you because you had already missed the chance for a good life because it moved too slowly. Ultimately, a couple of sips of alcohol with sleeping pills and a sharp blade in his hands simply promised to correct the mistake in the form of you with your own hands.

You didn't have the courage to do it any other way.

But you really didn’t think that if you could try to open up to your loved one, you would meet support and not condemnation. Perhaps in a mad world he would be the only one who would heal your wounds as you healed him in your time. Leon clenched his teeth, feeling tears flowing down cheeks, seeing these crimson stains, when he pulled your body out of the bath, holding you close to him, repeating “I’m holding you. It's allright"

He so carefully laid you on his lap, managing to pull out a first aid kit and then bandages to tightly, albeit carelessly, wrap them around your wrist in order to somehow stop the bleeding. At least you were still breathing, thereby giving him hope that everything could still be fixed. the darkness and emptiness came to life, calling in a whisper to dissolve into eternal silence where there is no pain or condemnation. Your body will be in a grave under a gray stone, while the remains of your soul will float like a small grain of sand in infinity.

For Leon, everything happens in a fog; he tried more than once to save people, but he had no right to lose in this battle, even if you yourself surrendered to death. Shaking his head, brushing away the tears, he wrapped your body in a large terry towel, kissed your temple and picked you up, trying to somehow warm you, pressing you closer to him. the ability to provide first aid in the field and pull suicides out of the other world is not the same thing. Leon would have thanked God if he had believed in him, convinced that blood loss was the least of the evils that you had caused yourself, until he saw the remains of some substance at the bottom of the glass that stood on the table along with an almost full bottle of alcohol.

You really didn't give him a chance.

The ambulance took several minutes, which seemed like an eternity. In fact, Leon wasn't sure if it was worth trying to make you vomit when you'd already lost so much blood that it was already seeping through the bandages. Surely you would need a transfusion and Leon is ready to give you all his blood if only you would wake up. Holding his breath, he carefully looked at your chest, watching whether you were breathing and fortunately, your heart was still beating, slowly, but it was still fighting for life.

He stroked you on the head, kissed you, promised that he would take you somewhere else, quiet, where no one would dare to offend you, even if it was your family. You could have just asked him for help, just cuddled up to him and he would have protected you from other people’s attacks, but you preferred to remain silent. Kennedy was tired of waiting for the medical staff to let him in, although relatives should be allowed to see the patient first, but the position of a government agent sometimes had its advantages, and they concerned not only the high salary. When he was let in to you, it seemed to him that you had become half your size while you were lying on the bed, curled up under the blanket. It didn’t work out to pull off a beautiful suicide, which meant that soon angry relatives would come here with new sweat of bile especially for you. They won’t care about your feelings, but Leon sat down next to you, trying not to intrude too much into the space in which you imprisoned yourself, as if this blanket cocoon could be a separate world where you could hide. He spoke to you carefully, hating himself for not being able to understand in time what was wrong with your behavior; perhaps if he had been more attentive to you, the incident could have been avoided. You would see a psychotherapist, take a course of medication, and your environment would definitely be taken care of.

You cry, not letting him come to you, hating how you weren't just left to die and how much you hate this world. Hysteria after hysteria, nervous breakdown after nervous breakdown, in the hospital you repeatedly tried to commit suicide, but the attentive staff managed to prevent this before you inflicted fatal injuries on yourself, and if after some time Leon still managed to carefully break through your armor, then your loved ones This did not concern relatives in principle. You only allowed one person to visit you while you were undergoing psychological treatment and you behaved calmer and calmer, listening to the velvety words that soon all this would be behind you.

“We’ll go home soon,” Leon smiled, gently holding your hand and kissing your forehead, just glad that you’re alive, that you’re breathing and that your psycho-emotional state is slowly but improving. “You know, I have a surprise for you, I think you’ll like it when we get home.”

Soon what happened will become another nightmare in his life, a blessing with a good ending, but for the sake of this happy ending, Kennedy is ready to descend into hell at least every day.

You nod at him and smile a little, fearing that the gift is some kind of party on the occasion of your discharge. In fact, the last thing you want is to see someone’s faces, especially those who diligently hammered into your head how insignificant you are. Why do you even hope that the doctor will postpone your discharge, but the plans for your further treatment were completely different.

On the other hand, after taking antidepressants and psychological help in a special medical institution, how many men are ready to stay with their girlfriends who have been there for several months? For Leon, it seems this was not a significant problem, or he simply carefully did not show it. However, there were no parties, no calls, you simply returned now to his home where there were new interior items. it became somehow more comfortable... but something else surprised you.

Puppy. A small puppy of a couple of months old ran towards you and Leon to meet both of them, but stopped and began sniffing your shoes, while something thawed in your heart.

“Animals seem to help us well, They feel when we feel bad, it seems to me a good idea to get us a little companion,” Leon said quietly, stroking your back while you were busy with the puppy, rejoicing at the little living soul who will love you with the same pure and devoted love.

Ultimately it should have a happy ending too. Leon is ready to go to great lengths so that his beloved songbird starts smiling and singing happy songs again, even if it is necessary to remove other birds from her family who sleep and see how to pluck all her wings again.

You and he also have a chance for a happy ending.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy resident evil #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon resident evil #resident evil leon

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ichigoromi · 1 year

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𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 | 𝐋𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

It's been a long time since I've written a Sakusa piece, and I kind of got a little crazy with it.

Judging by the title, it's not your usual fluff.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi (timeskip) x fem reader! (she/her)

Genre(s): tragedy, angst

Warning(s): terminal illness, reader's death, lots of sad stuff.

Please proceed with caution.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

“Kiyoomi, let’s break up.”

On the seventh anniversary of our relationship, I decided to break it off with the man that I once decided that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I knew he would propose to me in that fancy restaurant that would have taken months to get a reservation to go in. I even know that he got my dream ring because he hid it in the drawer of his socks compartment.

I broke it off with him because I want him to resent me.

I want him to resent me to the point that he does not want to remember me or forgets all about me.

Why?

He deserves someone better than me because I am a bad person.

After the dinner date, I successfully stopped the proposal and ditched him there and spend the night at a cheap motel. No matter how many times he called or messaged, I ignore all of it. I deleted all the photos we shared together in my phone, so that I will not regret what I am going to do for the next few months.

This was killing me on the inside but I have to do this.

On the first day of post breakup, I packed up all my stuff and send it back to my childhood home back in Okinawa. I wanted to throw all of our pictures hanging around our home, but I want to give him the honours of destroying our happy memories.

I quit my job in Osaka and left for Okinawa. On the same day, the news article of our breakup was released. I felt some weight lifted from my heart. At least he accepted it.

During my first week back, it finally hit me. I broke up with the love of my life. I cried every night to sleep. It was painful, harsh and torture to sleep by myself but it was all of a choice made by myself.

As I was not working anymore, I had more time to spend with my family and helped out with the family small yet bustling inn that was filled with tourist.

Weeks turned into months and it was time for my family to know the truth. It was the first time I saw my tough bear papa bawled like a baby that day. I felt bad but the truth was going to come out sooner or later.

Every evening, either my mother or father would bring me to the beachside for a light walk. They say it was for my own good, but I know they are just worried about me. I guess I should not let them worry more.

Instead of going out for one of my usual night walks, I asked them to give me some privacy.

I prepared three envelopes and begin writing.

Oh, it’s not some love letters. It was my will. One for my parents, another for…him and another one for our baby girl. I used to be a lawyer, so this was a piece of cake for me. Who am I kidding? It’s never easy. I’ve tried written my wills a thousand times but I could not do it.

It kind of seals the deal that I am going to die.

When I received my diagnosis, it was a nightmare in disguise. I was 18 weeks along and…I have cancer. A terminal one at that. Life sure loves me…huh. I have already started on chemo, since I have passed the danger zone but I have lost all my hair.

I hope my baby girl gets her daddy’s luscious dark curls. How do I know if it’s a girl? I just know in my gut feeling that it will be a girl.

Besides, I hope my baby girl looks like him, I don’t want to leave another piece of me behind for him.

This is torture.

Why is life so unfair? I just wanted to be a good lawyer, get married to the love of my life and have children with him. Is it so difficult for me to live a normal life?

But I am glad to see him moving on. I recently read on an article that he was spotted on a date with one of the famous actresses that my mother probably watches.

I am happy for him. Truly, I hope he lives his life for himself and not for me.

My doctors told me that I will be able to carry my baby to full term and that was all I need. I hate chemo but I needed to do it for my baby girl.

There could be a change of events cause Mama’s body is very sick, so I am going to name you Miyuu.

I am going to add in the will in case someone objects to your name.

When my friends flew into Okinawa to see me, they all broke down and bawled like babies. Do I look that terrible? Guess I don’t have the pregnancy glow that most pregnant ladies have.

And yes, I am having a baby girl. My chemo treatment has stopped as we have about eight more weeks to my delivery date.

Everyone was updating on how their life has gone and then they told me about him too.

I am glad that he is moving on well with his life.

That is all that matter, his happiness.

As long he is happy, I can leave this world happily.

I hear the beeping of the machine and my shallow breathing in the oxygen mask that helps to breathe better. I felt my bump weakly and relaxed when I heard the strong heart beating of my baby girl.

Miyuu, darling, I’m sorry that mummy got sick before you came out to this beautiful world.

I hope you are as healthy as your father, but not the anal person like him. Be more like mummy and make more friends.

But don’t lie to your loved ones like mummy. Always be truthful.

I know you will grow up and be loved by everyone.

Mummy is going to take a rest now, my sweet darling, be safe and healthy.

“Code blue!”

The flatline, the dreaded beep sounds, the anxiety and helpless of not being able to do anything. The doctors tried their best to stabilise the mother but it was no use. She was gone at the age of 28, and now they have to save the baby in her too.

They promised the young lady that they would save this baby of hers no matter what.

“Call the OBGYN, Paediatric surgeons and book the operation theatre. We have to deliver this baby now. I will inform the family.”

It was all too soon for the family but time was of the essence.

After losing his only daughter, now they have to pray for their granddaughter.

With shaky hands, he signed the form. The form to save his granddaughter but nothing could bring back his daughter. His precious girl that he raised for 28 years old, passed before him.

“Please…please tell me I’m not too late. No…Wait, what is going on?”

Kiyoomi lets out a shaky breath as he slowly approaches the glass window, and saw it all. Your lifeless body lying in there, while the doctors were prepping to go in for an urgent surgery. The baby bump broke him.

Your father wrapped his arms around the tall volleyball player and no words were needed.

He did not even say his last words or even spend your last moments together.

Without a care in the world, he cried in your father’s arms. He was too late, to hold you in his arms, to say I love you for the last time.

At least you did fulfil one of the promises that you make together, half of it, was to build a family with him.

Every second was agonising as they waited outside the operation theatre. Kiyoomi refused to rest until he knows his baby girl was out safe and he just wanted to hold your hand for the last time.

All this time, you were suffering and he was oblivious to it.

“Babe, it’s so painful. Why didn’t you tell me that you were suffering? Just how much pain were you in? I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”

His siblings who flew down with him, could only wrapped their arms around him and comfort him.

[Two months later…]

After putting Miyuu to sleep, Kiyoomi went into your study room. He took a deep breath as he sat down in front of your table. The graduation photo that you took together was still on the table.

And the three envelopes.

He traced your handwriting on the envelope fondly and opened the content.

It was a letter.

Hi babe, can I still call you that after our breakup?

I know what I did was brutal because I want you to resent me. Resent me to the point that you hate seeing my name or remembering me. Forget me all…but I guess you couldn’t since you opened this letter. I wrote my name especially big on this envelope because I hope my name repels you but if you’re here, I’m glad.

My diagnosis was not in our plans at all and I was pregnant. I knew if I told you, you will drop everything and spend your time with me. I am going to die. I don’t want you doing that and regretting it. That’s why I planned the breakup and hiding from you.

When I saw your news of you dating again, I thought, I’m happy that he’s moving on.

But I’m not. I miss you so much. I want to hug and kiss you or get my daily cuddles. There is a lot more that I want to do with you Mimi but I don’t have the time. I hate it so much but I regret this. I love you so much, never once did I forget about our time together.

Please don’t forget about me. I really love you so much that I don’t want you to know that I die, but you were there? Weren’t you?

I’m sorry babe that you have to experience this.

Kiyoomi, take care of our baby girl, Miyuu. I gave her that name because you’re horrible with names! I love you so much.

With lots of love,

Your First and Last Love of Your Life.

P.s – Check the second drawer for a usb drive.

He wipes his tears and looked for the usb that you have left for him. It was his usb that you ‘borrowed’ from him during your second year of university and never gave it back.

It was videos.

But there was one that you titled it as ‘WATCH THIS FIRST’.

He clicked on it and it was you before you started on your chemo treatment.

“Erm…Hi Mimi. This is a little awkward but I wanted to film this before I start my treatment…so before I turned ugly. I’m sorry for everything, from hiding this and our baby.”

Kiyoomi’s eyes became teary as he watches you wiped your tears away.

“I don’t want to die but I guess it’s inevitable? I love you so much that even words can’t express how much I love you. Since I’m dying soon, I love you more, ‘kay? Please take care of my parents after I’m gone. I have kept my recipe books at the highest shelf where I keep my secret stash of chocolate, so cook those for our daughter.

I didn’t throw out any of our memories. It’s at Mika’s house. I couldn’t do it, so go and take it back.

Our little girl here, I hope that she looks like you but you probably wish that she looks like me, right?

Babe, I wished I had a time machine and went back to the time where I took my health seriously but I guess this is fate too.

Sakusa Kiyoomi, it was an honour to be loved by you in this life. If you don’t mind, can we meet again in our next life? In our next life, please marry me.

I love you so much and I’m sorry.”

And the video ends.

“In the next life, I will make sure we meet again, fall in love and get married and do all the things that we missed in this life. Why are you always right, she does looks like you. Our baby girl, she’s like you. I love you so much, so please let me come to you in the next life.”

For the first time after the birth of his daughter, he smiled for the first time.

This was written after the movie, More Than Blue. I got lots of inspiration from it and I hope you guys enjoyed it.

Stay safe and healthy,

With love,

Rosalie🍓

©️ ICHIGOROMI — Please do not plagiarise my work or re-edit and repost as your own.

Reblogs are appreciated!

#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi hcs #sakusa kiyoomi headcanons #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #sakusa x reader #sakusa x female reader #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x you #sakusa imagines #sakusa haikyuu #sakusa hcs #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #sakusa angst #haikyuu angst

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envy-of-the-apple · 1 year

Text

Yandere!Toji Fushiguro x reader

Trade off

So i accidentally deleted the toji ask like an idiot im really sorry anon bestie:( you tried. I just failed.

Prequel and if enough ppl like it ill finish the fic i just wanna see how this does

(Yandere, breaking/entering, attempted plan to murder, etc, etc idk)

Living near the countryside has desensitized you to the thumps and crashes you’d hear at night. In the beginning you’d be paranoid, laying in your bed for hours before gathering the courage to step out of the room, trusty bat in hand, only to find a stray cat staring back, right beside an open window. Nowadays, you’re coolly shooing away whatever creature that finds their way in your home. Mostly it’s cats, sometimes you’d get the occasional bird or racoon.

The situation has happened so many times that you aren’t even surprised to hear the soft rattle that comes from your kitchen tonight. You’re already moving, rousing from your soft bed, grabbing your trusty broom ready to scare away whatever creature you’d find scurrying about your kitchen floor. A rat, most likely.

But the thing rustling through your fridge is no rodent, and you don’t recognize this man.

It doesn’t occur to you that you’re being robbed until half a second later. Mainly because of how casual this bizarre situation is. He’s rifling through your food like it’s normal and you’re the weirdo carrying the broom.

“Damn, there’s nothing here. Do you not eat or something?”

You assume he’s thinking out loud, but he glances back at you like he expected you there.

“I-I haven’t gotten the chance to go shopping this week,” You find yourself replying.

He gives a hum, slamming the fridge shut, standing to his full height and you’re instantly aware of how ill-prepared you are to fight him. He’s huge, not just in height. He looks better fit for a bodybuilder than a run-of-the-mill robber.

You left your phone upstairs. Why the fuck did you leave your phone upstairs?

You lower your broom, trying to make yourself seem as little threatening as you can. Your mind is running too fast to conjure any real thoughts, but the part of you that hasn’t completely broken down yet is telling you it’s better to avoid any confrontation. A distraction.

“There’s a TV in the next room,” You numbly point towards the living room, “It’s brand new….would probably go for a thousand.”

He barely seems interested, eyes flicking to glance over before going to you.

“That’s nice,” He waves your offer off, “But I’m not here to steal your stuff.”

“You’re…you’re not?” You reply weakly.

There’s a grin on his face, a touch away from being maniacal. His hand is brushing his hip, lightly playing with the hilt of a gun.

Oh.

Maybe it’s because you’re still half asleep, your brain isn’t working as efficiently, it takes you a bit longer to process his intentions. When it finally does, the realization hits you like a train. Your mouth gets dry, it suddenly feels so cold. Fear. You’ve never felt fear like this before.

You don’t notice the steps you take backward. He does. The man groans in something you can only discern as annoyance.

“Don’t do that,” He frowns, “Come on, I’m trying to be nice here. I can’t chase you around the house, I'm supposed to make it look like an accident.”

His nonchalance is terrifying. Like he’s done this before. He probably has. How many people has he murdered in their own homes? How many bodies does it take to be so calm around imminent death?

You don’t have time to wonder, not when something he said catches your attention.

“Were…were you hired to come here?”

His mouth twitches and it looks like he’s thinking. Finally, he shrugs, like the information he gives won’t really do anything to harm him.

“Yeah, some rich folk in the city. Can’t remember their names for shit though.”

Someone had a vendetta against you? Enough to want to kill you? Your mind is running through every single name, every quarrel you’ve had. Family members, friends, acquaintances. Nothing enough comes up.

Nothing is supposed to. Only crazy people hire hitmen.

And hitmen are even crazier.

You take another step back.

He takes another forward.

(End of prequel)

#yandere #yandere togi #togi x reader #dark toji fushiguro #Breaking and Entering #yandere toji fushiguro x reader #hitman toji fushiguro #yandere jjk x reader #yandere jjk #dark jjk #dark content

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borzoilover69 · 5 months

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I would like you to elaborate on dirk and Dave's relationship post game! 0u0

I want to make one thing clear. Neither of them are particularly bad people for reacting the way they do. They are products of their environments and their upbringings, and this reflects a LOT in their behaviour. This is my personal interpretation.

I think it starts off generally well. They have enough in common to talk a lot, and so much to catch up on! I’d imagine they chat for quite a while and build up raport.. and then as time goes on, they start to sort of get on each others nerves.

Dirk has a habit of over analysing and trying to get into peoples minds to further understand them. This isnt a bad thing, i think he genuinely does it out of wanting to understand and “vibe” with them better, but it may seem weird and unncessary for others. What with being isolated socially for so long, the alpha kids in general have some strange ways of saying things that seem perfectly normal to them, as well as interpretation, that strike others as off or strange, and dirk is no exception. They arent as handy with social cues.

This is important because well, while Dave is good at running his mouth, he struggles to articulate effectively when he cares. Im sure as we have seen in canon, especially with people he loves, Dirk will probably try to look too deep into it and reach a conclusion that isnt the best. Dirk needs people he cares about to communicate honestly and openly. This is something Dave will struggle to do due to his aforementioned inability to articulate when he cares the most.

Of course I cannot forget mentioning the abuse in the relationship Dave had with his bro. One that on reflection of his childhood later, led to him being incredibly uncomfortable with when he realised the way he was brought up was certainly not normal. It did not help qualm Daves nerves. Especially when Dirk said he could see himself doing that. Dave is compassionate, but he is not entirely forgiving. I feel that while Dirk thinks its best to be aware of this manner, it would just make Dave uncomfortable at the idea of repetition. One which i feel he could not voice.

Diving deeper into personal musings, considering some of the evidence that Dirk coveted Dave for a long time, Given how much we see him covet Dave it has a very high chance of flipping the other way as a natural prince of heart destroying and picking at himself. Dirk has a desire to be useful, a desire to succeed, and his accomplishments fail in the face of daves in both timelines.

Dirk has two people we are established he holds especially dear to him, and that is Dave and Jake. However with that level of attachment and endearment it can become unhealthy. Dave and Jake arent the best when it comes to communication, or establishing the most stable of relationships if canon is to go off of. Without proper care and communication this turns out bad.

I personally feel like as time would go along, the silence between them would grow longer due to the lack of communication of issues between them. Dave would rather skirt them, Dirk would rather bottle them until he eventually explodes. Its that or theyd have a codependent relationship for a while before cutting it all off out of a want to fix things by trying to be there for the other, but facing difficulty in their desires being too different, Dave wanting time to build up raport and slowly close that gap while Dirk just wants to get there as efficiently as possible and missing the point of the picture.

TLDR; If you put a kid through literal isolation for 16 years and give him a meager amount of social situations its going to be very difficult for them to aclimate to someone more accustomed to the ebb and flow of relationships. If you give an abuse victim a younger alternate version of their abuser theyre never going to be ok with it entirely.

Its 3 am ill prolly delete this later

#borzoi talks #asks #dirk strider #dave strider #homestuck #hom3stuck #borzoi meta #homestuck meta

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mugentakeda · 2 months

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Do you have any fic recs similar to your take on iroh? Treating him as an actual character with some fucked up issues is SO much more fun!! I love him and I am chewing on your art

YES!!!!!!!! everytime i post about shithead iroh moments i get nervous someones gonna think i dont like him or im anti iroh or whatever but i genuinely honest to god think his less than savory past and personality traits ON TOP of the things about him that make him so beloved by the fandom makes him better. like yeah i love all parent characters that are just big softies but big softie parents that also are kinda (very much ) fucked up are even better. to ME. and i dont usually judge how good characters are on the basis of how good of a parent they are which is oddly something that a Lot of people do but. U wont find any of that on this blog which is also why i loveeeee ursa.

BUT I DIGRESS! here is my absolute favorite. its unfinished but what is there is still very loaded. digs in deep to iroh. gets pretty nitty gritty with it too. it changed how i see iroh and specifically season 1 iroh. it balances his b1 behavior with his later revealed status as a grand lotus MASTERFULLY, and puts his manipulative and cunning side on full display. might even make you mad at him a little bit

this one is less of a take on iroh as like. a general and a grand lotus and the war side of him and more of him as a father. its short and sad and i adore all of this authors fics involving iroh. it still shines a good light on the consequences of irohs own actions though because lu ten dying was literally his fault. the selfishness and the manic desperation that bleeds through this monologue is kind of scary but also is tragically beautiful.

ALSO these specific parts near the end of salvage were REALLY good. i feel like iroh is definitely the kind of guy that does a whole lot of backhanded comments as a way of patronizing without probably even realizing he does it?? i think a lot of people forget that what makes iroh being “changed” different from zuko is that zuko is still a child, and iroh is like. in his fifties or something. a whole LIFETIME of probably doing everything zuko did pre-redemption but far worse, and plenty times over. take how young azula is when ozai let her loose into the world into account. take the fact that iroh was already a general by the time he was sieging bss into account. im not gonna compare and contrast crimes here but i am trying to put weight onto how long iroh has been in the game. nasty shit like this is bound to still creep in the shadows of irohs mind and will definitely slip out sometimes.

and i know i keep bringing up that one unfinished super gnarly au fic that features azulon putting zuko into irohs care following irohs return to ba sing se (after ozai disgraced himself in requesting azulon give ozai the throne since iroh lost his only heir). hopefully one day ill find it because i hate to think the author deleted it or whatever . but out of all the fics that dig into irohs crimes id say this one does it the deepest while also SOMEHOW managing to make iroh sympathetic just by how sheerly pathetic and miserable he is the whole time. ONE DAY THOUGH. i pray that i will find it. because i have like over 200 pages of history on ao3 and i cant remember when exactly i read the fic so . searching for it has been kind of difficult but if i find it trust i will post it lol

#i know this isnt much but for some reason depicting iroh like this is kinda. Uncommon.#WHICH STINKS but whatever.#asks

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halowritesthings · 2 months

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i love learning about things a week late through youtube recommendations from random channels i've never seen before

(bad grammar and typos cause i'm shooting my shot as fast as possible so I can get back to Important Adult Stuff(TM))

i suppose i can't really gripe because i'm still largely logged out and wouldn't have heard otherwise so maybe I should take it for what it is

i know i'm a random person who writes as a hobby so I don't necessarily "owe" anything to people online, but y'all have been so sweet to me and I feel it would be unfair to keep dropping off the face of the planet like I have been, plus, I have been stewing over quite a bit of my thoughts these past few months and making a large "get all my thoughts out in a word vomit" post is a good way to A.) sort out my shit and B.) to procrastinate homework

college is BEATING MY ASS and i'm not even at the harder junior/senior year type stuff so even if my writer's block wasn't the worst it's ever been I highly doubt I would be writing anything anyway. i cannot say for certain when I'll be able to get back (it seems the universe is tailored specifically to punch me in the face whenever I have the slightest inclination to do so) but i will say it is always on my mind. i don't ever want to give up writing fully because of how many good things it's brought me but i want to be mature and say that it has taken a backseat in my life.

i still don't regret the things I've created and i will always be thankful for the experiences I've had + the friends I've made (even if we haven't talked in a while :') sorry guys) BUT this situation has just become the nail in the coffin for me in terms of what i want to do with my ds/mp and other adjacent fics. i can't say for certain what I'll go through and orphan/keep or just outright delete (WIPS/unfinished series will probably get deleted is what I've decided so far) so this is a BIG WARNING sign right here and now: if there are any ds/mp fics of mine you are fond of, please go and save them now. even if you think the one you really love is "safe" it's better to be cautious and have it yourself than hope for the best outcome.

now's a good time to mention that i have been feeling similar feelings toward my fl0wer husb4nds fics (gonna come out and be honest: i don't particularly care for sc0tt anymore, sorry) so if you like those you should also search them out. i think a hard majority if not all of them will be orphaned, so they'll still be up, but it never hurts to be able to read something while offline anyway

however, due to the aforementioned Important Adult Stuff(TM), i won't be able to get to the whole Properly deleting/orphaning process for a hot minute. that does not mean you should put off saving my fics because my brain could decide one night that i HAVE to do it IMMEDIATELY, but i can promise that it's not happening tonight (might hold off for at least a week just to give people time to see this post).

TSALP, my pride and joy, is perfectly safe and fine. when i think about whenever ill be able to write again, this series is the First thing to pop up in my mind. i have so many things i want to do with that series (and h3rmitcr4ft as a whole) that make me smile despite all that has happened surrounding mc/yt. someone will need to threaten me with death to make me even consider giving that up. hell, even taking a step back, i can say that i will never fully let go of mc/yt. i straight-up have tickets to go see tommy's america show later this month (send my dad well wishes as he's the one taking me LMAO) .

remember to drink water, take breaks, tell your friends you love them etc. I'm terrible at giving advice since I'm a bonafide mess of a person, but i will say that the best thing you can do for each other is support one another. i've always been a bigger fan of giving support to those who are hurt than trying to go and cause more pain to the people that you can argue "deserve" it. the people you care about are going to be with you much longer than the assholes, so be sure to put more energy into focusing on them than the ones that don't even deserve your scorn.

#halo be talkin #dont plan to tag this with any warnings unfortunately but i hope i left it vague enough to not be upsetting but specific enough #to know what im talking about

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anexperimentallife · 1 year

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This "if you don't brag about it online, it didn't happen" culture is so weird. I regularly get people accusing me of doing nothing but posting my thoughts online and not actually helping anyone, and it's like...

Dude, I'm not gonna go online and brag and post pictures every time I donate supplies or money, give someone food or a place to stay, serve as a sympathetic ear, help another adult escape their abusive family, encourage someone through a bad situation, stay on the phone with someone when they just need a human voice, let someone ahead of me at the store, overtip a tired server, stand up when someone's being bullied, or do some other random act of kindness. Posting "proof" of all that shit would just feel weird to me. And pointless. The point isn't to show off; the point is that we're all in this together, and everybody should be pitching in to make things better for all of us. It should just be the standard.

I literally owe my life to people who helped me in hard times with no thought of reward--often when I didn't deserve the help. Hell, when our family was in danger of forced separation because paperwork errors wouldn't let our daughter travel with us, y'all pitched in to pay for getting it straightened out.

(Not to mention that even if all I did was post, posting thoughts online can be helpful--a lot of people have posted things that have been helpful to me, and a lot of folks have thanked me for things I've posted, saying my words helped them.)

I mean, I get the theory that posting about ways you've helped people might inspire others to do more good, so I'm not gonna say everyone who does it is seeking glory, but that's just not the way I roll. I don't even like being acknowledged for stuff like that. It all just comes under the heading of doing my job as a human being. Because if we're not taking care of each other, what's the point of anything?

If I could help out completely anonymously, so that not even the people I'm helping knew it was me, that's what I'd do. Not because I'm some saint, but just because a) the attention embarrasses me, and b) I don't want anyone to feel embarrassed or lesser for accepting help.

Honestly, I'd like to do more. But I'm autistic, disabled (spine, joint, and soft tissue inuries, severe arthritis, a traumatic brain injury that affects my memory and focus, and then there are the brain and body effects of long covid on top of that), have adhd, had covid three times, almost died of illness three times in the past five years (once from double pneumonia with secondary lung infections, and twice from covid, which also left me with a two-year foot infection that ended up requiring surgery to get rid of), and other issues, am about 15K USD in debt (from the issue with our daughter), PLUS I'm raising a toddler and supporting two other adults on a fixed income (and still need to somehow come up with around thirty thousand dollars for needed surgeries and scans and dental work and other treatments that got put off because of the aforementioned issue with our daughter), so yeah, there's only so much I can do.

But it's not "nothing." (And I'll allow myself a little bit of chest-puffing by saying it's probably more than most of the people who accuse me of doing nothing do.)

So yeah... "all you do is post online instead of helping people." Oh, you mean because I don't... what, make people "earn" my help by posing for embarrassing pictures or videos, or giving testimonials about how grateful they are? LMAO what a sad, mean, tiny, drab little world you must live in where no one helps anyone without bragging to the world about it.

(Hell, I'll probably delete this later, because tbh this little rant feels a little too much like bragging to me, but I needed to vent.)

#rob gets personal

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stargazer-sims · 11 months

Text

Journal Entry #52

previously - Journal Entry #51 (part two)

Yuri

Have you ever wished you didn't exist?

I'm not talking about wanting to take your own life or hoping that you'll just fall asleep one night and never wake up. I mean wishing that you actually didn't exist, that you'd never been conceived and born in the first place.

I wish for that.

I'm not sure if I'll post this recording to our journal. I may even delete it from my phone later. The only reason I'm doing this at all is because I'm feeling so frustrated and upset and... I don't know. Worthless. Horrible. Perhaps angry at myself because I can never live up to anyone's expectations for me, not even my own.

Despite the number of times I'm told that I'm enough just as I am, I can't make myself believe it. I notice how people pretend to like me when they don't, and how they're polite and deferential to me because they think I'm too fragile to handle their honest feelings about me. I'm aware of their disapproval and disdain.

In all fairness, though, I can't blame anyone for disliking me. I see the work I create for everyone around me and how much of a burden I am to them. I despise myself for that.

The sad irony is, as much as I don't want to be a burden, not being one seems impossible. I'll never not be chronically ill. There'll be periods when I'm reasonably well, but there'll also be times when I'm too sick to do anything for myself and someone will have to take care of me. That's a reality I can never escape from.

I can guess what some of you would probably say now if you heard this. But, you love all the attention you get, don't you?

I think it’s a natural human response to like receiving attention, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it. The truth is, being bathed or fed or massaged feels good, and knowing I have people in my life who’ll do that and so many other personal care tasks for me gives me a certain sense of security. And yes, in the moment, I do enjoy it. The problem is, when the task is done and I’m alone with my thoughts, I start to feel guilty for allowing myself to forget, even for a second, that these things aren’t meant for my gratification. I remember I'm a selfish, awful person for enjoying something that comes at the cost of someone else's time and effort, particularly because I know full well that I can never pay them back.

The thing that bothers me most of all is that the people who do the majority of the caretaking are my mother and Victor. The people I love more than anything, who I want to see happy and who I want to protect are the very ones who suffer the most because of me.

My beautiful, brave, loyal Victor would do anything for me, and I'd move the mountain itself to repay him if I could, but my intention is not enough. I love him with my entire mind, body and soul, but my love is not enough. I don't deserve him, and I don't know why he stays with me, because nothing about me will ever be worthy of someone as good and gentle and selfless as him. Nothing can ever erase the imbalance in what we give each other, and that truth chips away at my heart more and more as time goes on.

Victor says he loves me, and he’s demonstrated it in so many ways that I’d have to be completely detached and indifferent not to believe him. He also says he doesn't mind all the work he has to do, but I'm not so certain about that one. How could it possibly be true that it doesn’t bother him? It's unfair, and I know it's hard on him, being tied down by me all the time. He gave up so much for me, and here I am with nothing of value to give in return.

Sometimes I think it would've been better if we'd never met at all. He could've had a good life without me, chased all his dreams and done everything he'd planned to do.

It's too late now. He's attached to me, and I've ruined his life, and there's no way for me to set him free to reclaim what's left of it without hurting him in the process. I offered that to him once before and it upset him so much that I swore I'd never mention it again, even if I think it'd be in his own best interest to get away from me.

Not that I ever want to be apart from him, you understand, but if I need to choose between his happiness and my own, I'll always want to choose his. It's why I'm willing to move halfway around the world, why I didn't say no when he told me he wanted to keep competing, and why I agreed to the idea of Fox coming here to help us. It's why I acquiesce to most things I'm not entirely comfortable with. Letting him have what he wants without objection is the only currency I can exchange for everything I've taken from him.

If he ever wanted to leave of his own accord, I'd let him have his way there, too. I wouldn't try to force him to stay. If it'd make him happy, I'd let him go even though it would shatter me into a million pieces, even though I'm sure I'd be in pain forever from the grief of such a loss.

Perhaps that would be my penitence. Maybe it's what I truly deserve.

I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't even be recording this. It's nothing but a confused, emotional rant, and if I do end up posting it, I fully expect that anyone who sees it will think even less of me than they already do. It's just that saying it aloud helps, even if I'm only talking to myself. At the very least, I won't lie to myself. Nearly everyone else would tell me whatever they thought I wanted to hear, which is why I've stopped talking to people about my troubles. What would be the point?

Victor says I need to see a professional, and maybe he's right. Maybe I could tell this stuff to a psychologist who isn't part of my life and who could be objective. I doubt there's anything they could realistically do to make me less of an inconvenience. They can't cure my illness or make me physically stronger, and they can't make anyone like or respect me, but I guess they'd be someone who'd listen.

Last night, after Fox left, Victor found me crying in the upstairs bathroom. I might as well admit that I threw up and that I was trying to hide that fact as well as my little breakdown from him. Have you ever tried to throw up quietly? If you discover the secret to doing that, please tell me what it is.

Because I know someone will inevitably ask, the reason I was trying to hide it is because Victor doesn't like seeing me cry. He says it makes him feel helpless. Besides, he's so tenderhearted that if I'm crying, he often ends up crying too, and I don't like seeing him cry either. I'm usually good at suppressing my emotional responses, so I really don't cry all that often, but for the past few weeks it seems I haven't been able to hold anything in. It's another sign of weakness, I suppose; yet another way I've failed him.

He knocked on the bathroom door and called for me several times. When I didn't answer, he simply opened the door and let himself in, exactly as I'd known he would.

I didn't look up at him, and just mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"Everything," I said, because it was the truth. Everything felt wrong, and I was sorry for all of it.

"Uh... you think you could be a little more specific?" Victor crossed the room in a few long strides and sat near me on the floor. "Did you get sick?"

"I think you know I did."

"Okay. But, is there something else?"

"I don't want Fox to come any more," I told him.

"Why? Did something happen?"

I shook my head. I really didn't feel like discussing it, and I didn't think I was in a fit condition to have a decent conversation about anything, much less about that. Besides, how was I supposed to explain to him how inadequate Fox makes me feel? How was I supposed to say that I don’t like how patronizing Fox is, and how I feel humiliated and powerless when he talks to me as if I’m a stubborn child or as if I’m intellectually delayed?

The part I hate the most about having Fox here is how he keeps trying to convince me that I'm not actually as ill as I say I am, like I'm exaggerating my condition for attention and that I'm capable of far more than I'll admit. He seems to be under the impression that all it takes is a little willpower to overcome pain, nausea, muscle weakness, extreme fatigue and all my other symptoms, not to mention anxiety. What he doesn't realize is that I have plenty of willpower, and if it were really that easy, I wouldn’t need somebody like him. I'd have been cured long ago.

He tries to make me do things that are much too difficult, if not impossible, and I can almost never do them without consequences to my mental and physical well-being. Although I push through each task as best I can to avoid a conflict that I know I wouldn't have the stamina to deal with, I almost always feel far worse afterwards. He says he's helping me, and he calls it progress. I call it cruel and unusual torment.

He's supposed to be taking care of me. He's getting paid to take care of me. I think that obligates him to stick to caretaking, and should not extend to pretending to be my friend or to practicing his dubious amateur occupational therapy on me.

But, I couldn't confess any of that, could I?

"No," I said at last. "Everything's fine. I just... I think I can look after myself now."

I couldn't, of course, and I have no idea why I said that. I just didn't know how much longer I could endure the situation as it stood, and I suppose it was a way to get Victor to make Fox leave without me resorting to complaining about him.

Victor pulled at his lower lip with his teeth and gave me a worried look. My husband may be many things, but stupid and imperceptive aren't among them. He saw through me straight away. "Yuri, you can barely make it from your bedroom to here without help. I don't know if you're strong enough to look after yourself yet."

But, for some unknown reason, I persisted. "I'm not going to get any stronger by letting other people wait on me, am I?"

"You know it doesn't work like that," he said. "It's not like physio, where you build up strength in your muscles by exercising them. You're not going to get better by wearing yourself out."

"I'm never really going to get better anyway," I said. "I might as well do what I can, when I can, right?"

"Yes, when you can," he said. "Maybe in a few more weeks, when you—"

"No!" I cut him off mid-sentence. All of a sudden, I felt anger rising up inside me like a wave. It was irrational and relentless, and I felt unable to control it. "I don't want him here. Tell him not to come back."

"No," Victor said. "I'm not going to do that."

I stared at him, admittedly a little shocked. Victor hardly ever says no to me. "But—"

"No," he repeated. "You might not want his help any more, but I think you still need it. And I still need a little help too, until I get this other cast off."

"Helping you is meant to be my job," I said. "It's what i should be doing."

"You have a valid reason not to be doing it."

"But, I should be doing it," I insisted.

"Maybe," he said. "But I know you can't right now, and that's okay."

"I hate this!" I brought the edge of my fist down on the cold bathroom tiles as hard as I could. A jolt of pain shot up my entire arm, and as much as I tried not to wince, I'm sure I must have. "I'm tired of our lives being this way, of me not being able to do anything for you and just being a useless waste of everyone else's energy. I'm so tired of all of it, Victor. I just want it to stop."

Victor was gazing at me with an expression that might have been equal parts sympathy and perplexity. Whatever it was, it seemed obvious he didn't know how to respond. All he said was, "I know."

"No, you don't know!" I retorted. "You have no idea what it's like to be trapped in a body like mine!"

"I guess I don't, but—"

"You don't know what it's like to be exhausted and in pain all the time, or to worry that the slightest change could make it worse. You don't know how it feels to panic every time you realize you have to eat because everything you put into your mouth has the potential to hurt you. And you have absolutely no idea how worthless it makes me feel to not be able to do the simplest things for myself, much less be able to help you."

By the time I'd gotten all that out, I was shaking and crying, and there was nothing I wanted more than to be able to get up off the floor and flee as far away from everyone and everything as I possibly could. I didn't want Victor to look at me in the state I was in. I wanted to disappear, and contrary to what I previously said, in that moment I really did wish that I could go to sleep and not wake up ever again.

Victor reached toward me, like he wanted to pull me into a hug. Any other time, I'd be desperate for him to hold and comfort me, but the thought of him touching me just then was unbearable.

It was all I could do to speak through my tears. "Please, don't."

"But—" He lowered his hands and watched me for what felt like ages before he let out a long breath and tried again. "I think you need to tell me what's really going on."

"Nothing," I said. "Nothing but the same thing that's always going on around here."

"Which is...?"

"You know," I said.

"How about you humour me?”

I scrubbed fiercely at my eyes with the heels of my palms. "I'm tired. I'm tired of... everything. I don't want to keep fighting my own body any more. I don't want to keep pretending that I'm okay and that our situation is okay and that everything's fine when it's not."

"You don't have to pretend anything," he said. "We both know everything's not okay. And like, this is gonna sound like a cliché or whatever, but it's okay that we're not okay right now. Things will improve soon. They always do."

"No, they don't," I said. "Maybe it seems like that for a while, but we're always going to be caught in this cycle. Unless you decide to do something about it, you’re always going to be stuck with me."

"What do you mean, stuck with you? You make it sound like a chore or something."

"Isn't it?"

"If you're asking if it's a lot of work to take care of you, then the answer is yeah, it is a lot of work. But, it's not a chore. If it was, do you think I'd still be here? ‘Cause that’s what you meant, isn’t it? I’m only really stuck until I’ve had enough and I make up my mind to leave?”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“I’m not going to leave you, Yuri,” he said. “If I didn’t think I could cope with all your health stuff, I wouldn’t have stayed in the first place. I’d have been gone already.”

"Would you?” I said. “If you didn't feel like you had to, would you still stay?”

"You're assuming I feel like I have to.”

“Aren’t you tired too? Don’t you need a break from me and my problems?”

“A break from you? No.” He smiled slightly, but I got the impression it was born of awkwardness rather than a more positive emotion. He gestured vaguely. “It’d be nice to get a break from… this, ‘cause I am pretty wiped out, but that’s not your fault. It’s just real life, you know? I need a break from real life.”

“Me too.”

“Anyway,” he went on. “I told you before, we can get help. I mean, we've got help right now and I'm practically doing nothing, so..."

"But, you would if you could."

"Naturally, I would. You know that. But, I know my limits.”

“Are we close? To your limit?”

“Can you stop for a second, please?” he said. “I don't even understand why you're bringing this up, and I need to know why we’re talking about it. I thought we already settled this. Didn't we promise that we’d stick together through everything?”

"It's... I'm thinking about it for a lot of reasons."

"Such as?"

"Seiji," I said.

“What about him?”

“He came to visit me in the hospital."

"I know."

"He's not my friend,” I stated. The words hurt, or maybe it was the realization behind them that was so painful.

"What are you talking about?” Victor asked. “Seiji is your friend. He loves you."

The things that'd come out of Seiji's mouth the afternoon of his visit had made me question whether he'd ever been my friend. It made me wonder if he, like nearly everyone else, merely tolerated me and was only polite because it'd be socially unacceptable not to be, and now he'd finally grown tired of the pretense. "He thinks I'm a monster," I told my husband. "He was so angry."

“A monster? He didn’t really say that.”

“He did.”

"He brought you mochi," Victor said, his confusion evident in his tone. Clearly, Seiji hadn't mentioned anything to him about what had taken place.

For a few heartbeats, I paused, trying to decide if I should continue or not. Finally, I replied, "Yes, he brought me mochi, but I have no idea why. I don't even know why he came, because all he did was tell me what a terrible person I am. He thinks your accident was my fault."

"It wasn't," Victor said. "He's wrong about that."

"Perhaps, but I don't think he's wrong about everything else."

"Everything else. What's included in 'everything else'?"

"He said I don't deserve you. He said... he said you could've done better than me and that I'm holding you back. He said I'm hurting you just by being with you, and that if you're unhappy, it's my fault." I stopped at that point because I could feel tears starting to sting my eyes again and my chest was starting to feel tight.

What Seiji had said wasn’t anything new to me. I’d thought of most of it on my own, long before that. But, hearing the words coming from someone else caused them to strike home all that much harder.

“He’s wrong,” Victor said. “He knows I’m not unhappy. I told him that myself. And you’re not holding me back from anything.”

“I feel like I am.”

“You’re not. I’m doing everything I want to do,” he said. “Yeah, I gave up some stuff, but it’s not like you forced me to. Coming here when i did was my choice. I could’ve waited, but I didn’t want to.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Do you want the honest answer?”

“Yes.”

“It’s like I told you before,” he said. “Sometimes I wish I’d done things differently or made different choices, and sometimes I feel sad or angry about it, but I don’t think I’d call it regret. I love you, and I was determined that I was gonna be with you sooner or later, and if that involved a few sacrifices, I’d say they were worth it.”

“But, what about me? I haven’t sacrificed anything for you.”

“You don’t think so?”

I shook my head. “I suppose I had nothing to give up, in any case.”

“Sacrificing doesn’t necessarily mean you literally give something up. Sometimes it’s like, metaphorical or whatever. Like, I think it took a massive amount of courage for you to let me move in with you. You could’ve said no, but instead of letting your fear tell you what to do, you took a risk."

“That doesn’t seem like much of a risk."

"In hindsight maybe, but think about how you felt at the time."

"I wanted you to come," I said. “And I didn't give up anything compared to what I got out of it.”

“I got a lot out of it too,” he said. “It’s not as unequal as you think.”

“What do you get out of it?”

“I got you. You’re amazing, whether you believe it or not.”

“That’s not an answer." There was an edge to my voice that I didn't like, but once the words were out, there was nothing I could do. "That's the sort of thing you say when you can't think of anything."

“Okay, fine," Victor responded. "You need me to be specific?"

"Can you be?"

"Yeah, I can," he said. "You’re my voice of reason. You help me make good decisions, and you always know how to calm me down when I’m too hyper and the noise in my brain is really bad. You teach me stuff all the time, and you do your best to take care of me.” One side of his mouth twitched in what might’ve been an ironic smile he was trying to keep at bay. “Maybe even when you shouldn’t.”

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you saying that?"

"Because everything you just described... it's nothing. An acquaintance could do all that."

"You think I'd trust just any random acquaintance with my secrets? You think I'd let them into my personal space? Or let them do the stuff you did for me after my accident?"

"You let your mother and stepfather do it."

"Yuri, they're my parents. Well, Julian's not exactly my parent, but you know what I mean. I trust them just as much as I trust you, and if you don't think that much trust counts for anything, then... I don't know what else to tell you."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that!" he exclaimed.

The sharpness of his tone startled me, and totally against my will, I lost the battle to hold my tears back any longer. "I've tried so hard," I said. "But, I just... I can't be what you need. I'll always be the one taking more than I can give, and nothing I ever do will be enough. Seiji is right. You deserve so much more than I can ever offer you."

He was silent for a long time after that, but finally he said. "Do you even know what I need?"

I didn't respond. How could I? The challenge in his tone was so obvious, there was no mistaking its implication. If I answered anything other than no, it'd be the wrong answer. He was compelling me to admit my failure as a partner, but what was the point? We both understood that much already.

I closed my eyes and lowered my head. The pain I felt in my heart was a thousand times greater than anything I'd ever experienced in my body, and one thought drowned out all the others, playing in my brain on repeat.

I want all of this to end.

#ts4 #sims 4 #eagames #snowy escape #victorsworldadventures #victor nelson #yuri okamoto #tw suicide mention #tw chronic illness #tw illness #tw mental illness #tw pain #stargazersims

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