Vanessa didn't even die and yet her story is still sadder and more fucked up than jtodd's. He wishes he was on her level

The goddess of writing for polyamory can we please be blessed with All Might/Reader/Aizawa where reader and Aizawa still have their hero jobs so they often go on patrol together, but one night they come home to find All Might feeling down because he’s no longer able to do heroics anymore? The two of them decide to do something to cheer him up and make it up to him, it can be fluff or nsfw! I’m lof u :sadcat:

@jinxxyminxxy here you are even tho i know this mostly for me, and i appreciate it 🥺 i was on a really soft, insecure, needed comfort all might kick when i wrote these so fite me if u don’t like it 😤 i was gonna try and do smut but i just,,,wasn’t feelin’ it idk. this is also 2k words oops

You and Aizawa both know that it’s hard on Toshi, watching the two of you carry on with your hero duties while he’s stuck at school teaching or at home watching the news for any hint of you. No matter how many times you’ve told him that you like having him home at night, ready with a meal after a long day, he still feels like a burden.

Or that’s what he tells you, anyway. You’re both sure it’s true, but you know deep down that it’s more than that. There are feelings of insecurity, self loathing, and worthlessness stewing below there, but All Might won’t spill them no matter how gently you coax. So the best you and Aizawa can do is support him where you can, reminding him that you’re there for him.

On that particular night, you and Aizawa are out far later than normal. Having had no time to even shoot Toshinori a quick text letting you know you would be late, the two of you completely forget amidst the chaos and destruction the villain is causing. By the time everything is over, it’s 3 hours past when your patrol was supposed to be over and the two of you are bone tired.

Ignoring the swarming news helicopters, reporters, and adoring fans and rescued victims wanting to thank you for saving them, the two of you duck away, letting other heroes take the spotlight so that you can rush home. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, you’re both in hurry to get back to Toshi, to reassure him you’re alright and also maybe get something to eat.

It was probably the not knowing, or maybe it was just his norm when you and Aizawa aren’t home, but when the two of you stumble into the house, Toshi is slumped over the table with his head in his hands. Judging by the ragged breathing and the unkempt, tussled spots in his hair, something was wrong.

“Toshi, what is it?” you ask, rushing to his side. Aizawa follows at a slower pace, settling down on his other side and threading his fingers through All Might’s disheveled blond locks.

Toshi freezes as he realizes he’s been caught. It was something he was ashamed of, the jealousy he feels that the two of you can carry on as if nothing is wrong-- which is an unfair thought. He knows you worry for him, knows he’s being irrational, and it’s one of the reasons he hides his feelings. He doesn’t want to drag either of you down with him.

“W-Welcome home,” he murmurs, pulling his hands from his face. Taking either of yours in his, he forces a smile to his face. “How was your patrol? You’re running awfully late.”

You share a worried, critical look with Shouta, who’s giving you his own before nodding sharply. “We’re sorry we couldn’t let you know. I don’t know if you’ve seen the news, but things got very out of hand tonight.”

Aizawa picked up where you left off, squeezing Toshi’s thin fingers in his. “But don’t try to distract us. This has been going on far too long. You need to talk to us.”

You wince at his blunt, straightforward statement. He wasn’t known for his tactfulness (unless it was directed at kids, and even then...) but you wished just this once he could be a bit softer. But you were there, as ever, to pick up his slack. “Honey, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. We’re a team and we’re here for you. Talk to us, please.”

Toshi sighed then, slipping his hands from yours. They folded in his lap and he stared at his knees for several long moments. He was grateful that you were home, and deep down there was relief that his hand was being forced. There was one fear that was greater than all the others, and that was his fear of losing the two of you. Whether you realized it or not, you and Aizawa were his anchors, the only thing keeping him from drowning in his own self-pity. 

But that didn’t make it any easier on him, finding the words to explain how he felt. It was years of stewing and pushing these feelings down, only letting himself fall victim to them when he knew he was alone. Putting them into words wasn’t something he’d ever really considered doing.

“It’s got to do with us being heroes still, doesn’t it, Toshi?” Aizawa asked at last. He was always the most perceptive of the three of you, and both you and Toshi were grateful for it now. 

It gave him a place to start, and he nodded. “W-Well, sort of. It’s-- You know how I felt about retiring. It was necessary but…”

“But you didn’t want to. We know, Toshi,” you said. You wanted to reassure him, but felt like it wasn’t the right time. Right now, he just needed prompting to vent. Reassurance would only cause him to shut down.

“Right. I don’t like just sitting at home while the two of you go out on dangerous patrols. It makes me feel so worthless.” The last part was murmured, and you could hear the shame in his voice. “I know that isn’t fair to the two of you, so I didn’t say anything.”

You shifted, situating yourself as comfortably as you could besides him, with his knees tucked under the table and your hero costume digging and chafing after wearing it for so long. Covering the hand you were already holding with your other one, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his cheek.

On his other side, Aizawa sighed, giving Toshi a fond, exasperated look. “You fool. You aren’t worthless just because you can’t do this anymore. You did it for damn near thirty years. Probably more, given how stubborn you are.”

You nodded, the motion awkward against his cheek, and Toshi leaned into you a little. “You gave everyone so much. A Symbol of Peace. Years of peace and security. Your health, almost your life. Toshi, how could you be worthless?”

Before either men could react, you had thrown yourself at Toshi, knocking him into Aizawa, who was just quick enough to brace himself for the impact. You giggled from atop them at Toshi’s stunned look and Aizawa’s half-hearted scowl. While you were nuzzling into Toshi’s neck, you felt Aizawa’s arms come around the two of you, though he could only reach so far.

“I know you say that but how...how could you like me-- like this?” Toshi asked, staring blankly up at the ceiling. This was another deep rooted insecurity that he had been avoiding. Most of the time the thoughts were drowned out by your constant presences and actions, reassuring him that you weren’t there for show. But then the two of you would kiss him goodbye and head off together, leaving him alone at home and they would rear their ugly heads. And when neither of you had bothered to let him know you would be home late...

His fingers were threaded between Aizawa’s on your sides, squeezing so tight that Aizawa was sure he would lose feeling in them shortly. But he squeezed back nonetheless, telling him he wasn’t going anywhere. “Like what? Like a man who’s given his all for a country? Like a man who’s literally given his health for millions of strangers who don’t even know what he’s done? Like what, All Might?”

Toshi flinched at Aizawa’s use of his hero name. It was like there was a disconnect there now. He was still All Might, but he no longer felt like he deserved to be All Might. “Like a walking skeleton ready to keel over at any moment.”

Neither of you missed the slight tensing and quick relax in his body, and you sat up, pulling Toshi with you. For as strong as Aizawa was, you knew it couldn’t be comfortable with 200+ pounds of weight laying on him.

Aizawa situated Toshi between his legs, resting his head on the older man’s shoulder while you straddled his legs, cupping his face in your hands. “Well first off, you’re our skeleton, and don’t you forget it.”

That got a chuckle out of both of them, Aizawa covering his face with his hand in exasperation. “You’re ridiculous, _____.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you continued. “Second, Aizawa said it already. You are someone who’s given everything for everyone. We couldn’t be more proud to be with you, to call you ours. Lastly and most importantly--”

“You are All Might. You *earned* that title and you shouldn’t let anyone take it from you--”

“Least of all yourself, Toshi. You shouldn’t sell yourself so short. You worked so hard to build your name and your reputation--”

“And the fact that you think you don’t deserve it now is insulting to everything you’ve done in his name.”

In the silence that followed, you could have heard a pin drop. From the deep shadows of his eyes, tears began to fall. You wiped them away as quickly as you could, and when Aizawa realized what was going on, he pressed his lips to Toshi’s neck, squeezing his middle tighter.

“We aren’t going anywhere, Toshinori. I hope you don’t forget that again,” Aizawa drawled against his skin. He could feel the prominent scar underneath his partner’s shirt, a symbol of pain and all that Toshi had fought for, given up, and lost over the last several years. His hand slid up, pushing Toshi’s shirt up and ran his fingers over the twisted flesh, causing him to jump.

“We couldn’t be happier. Maybe you can’t support us from the field, but do you know how much it means to us to come home to you? It’s like a breath of fresh air after a patrol, seeing your face. Even if he won’t admit it, we both feel as much. We love you, Toshi. Please don’t forget that,” you murmured, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

Aizawa followed your sentiment, trailing languid kisses up the side of Toshi’s neck, ending just beneath his ear. “And if we have to, we will show you just how much we mean it, won’t we, _____?”

The smirk you gave Toshi was devilish and almost criminal. “Is that what you need? Do we need to show you how much you mean to us, All Might?”

Aizawa could feel him gulp under his lips, his fingers tightening on your thighs as he struggled to come to terms with this new arousal and his still jumbled feelings. At last, he sighed, giving you a soft kiss and laying his hand across Aizawa’s, the one still covering his scar like he was protecting it.

“Not tonight. Tonight I think I just want...to watch movies. Is that okay?” he asked, giving you a tired smile. His eyes fluttered closed as your lips covered his, jumping at the slight nip on his neck from Aizawa.

“Whatever you want, sunshine. Let us get changed out of these costumes, okay?” you said, standing up and helping your partners to their feet. You knew Aizawa’s costume was a lot more comfortable than yours, but even he had his limits. 

“I’ll heat up dinner again,” Toshi said, half-stumbling towards the kitchen. The two of you smiled, laughing under your breaths at how easily the man was flustered by your affections. 

In the bedroom, as you got undressed, you had a dawning realization. Half-clothed, you pulled Aizawa to you, enjoying the feel of his warm skin on yours. He was surprised by the intense kiss you bestowed him, letting his hands settle on your hips. Pulling back, you gave him a serious look. “You know I love you too, right?” 

Aizawa laughed, looking a little concerned. “Yes, kitten. And I love you. Is everything alright?”

You shrugged, drawing small patterns on his chest. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just felt like saying it.”

In a moment, you were crushed to his chest, his fingers wound in your hair and his breath raspy in your ear, and you knew he understood your sentiment. The door creaked open mid-hug, and Toshi watched the display with a shy, hopeful look. Laughing at his timid behavior, which you figured wasn’t ever going to change, you both opened your arm to him, ending up in a smushed, awkward threeway hug.

He towered over both of you, hiding his face in the top of Aizawa’s head, who in turn was resting his on top of yours. Your head was directly over his heart, listening to it stutter at a fast and uneven pace, and you felt a flood of adoration all over again for the two men. 

They were yours and you would never let them forget it and the warmth in their gazes when you pulled away told you all you needed to know about how they felt.

I'm here to tell a story that my heart is screaming at me to tell.

This is me. I fucking hate myself, just as much as I fake loving me. I don't think I've ever been this contempt as I was in these photos. I'm awkward and I fake confidence by throwing sarcastic and snarky comments. My coping mechanism consists of lying and just hiding behind my fake me. I've created a confident, pretty and delusional front that isn't me, but it's just as real as the raw version. My raw is ugly and disgusting and I hate it. I hid it and for the love of the non existent God there is, I wish I didn't have the raw side. I write in my skin, because if I went back to cutting, then I would no longer have pretty skin that people can love. I love eating, but I don't do it, because of the fear of losing my 36,28,42 measurements. I'm suicidal, but heavens forgive if I make a joke about it in order to cope with my insane itch to make my skin purple. My arm hair is soft and the last time I shaved I was scared that someone might see the thin, white lines that are underneath. My body is sexy as fuck, but Heavens forgive me if I actually feel comfortable in it. Thoughts of "they'll be fine without me" or "it's better if I'm not here" are drowned by the words I told someone who was a suicidal as me, "killing yourself would not make the pain disappear, you're just passing it on to someone else". I'm such a fucking hypocrite, or is it just a twisted way of actual introspection? What is wrong with the way I walk funny because I'm dizzy for the lack of food is that people notice. Oh great deity in the sky, please allow them to notice, but forgive them is they dare to ask what's wrong. I look happy and relaxed in the photos, hell yes, but not I'm an anxious mess that's writing this in the middle of a mental breakdown. Parents are never the one's to blame, no forgive them for not validating their children's emotions and struggles. No, strict parenthood creates strong-willed, rightful and successful people that think of themselves as worthless, weak, pathetic excuses. Oh we lie, and we lie good. Ask actors if they had strict parents... You'll find none, why? Because strict parents will inforce you an internalized fear of failure outside of social norms and acting is "a waste of time" to their standards. Support doesn't come from the right sized bra, but it sure as fucking hell is welcoming to be held and somehow relived from a burden you didn't fucking asked for. I was so happy ya'll. I was in cloud nine. That day I had a date with a guy I like that I thought was way out of my league, I lied my way through his pseudo intellectual remarks and he believed it.

We know how to lie so good and so true that eventually you lose track of your actual motive to do it in the first place. Society wants you perky and pretty, fuck yeah they do. How do I get all perky and pretty when I only see disgusting, overdosed surroundings? It's easy to get worried when you finally realize somethings not right. It wasn't right to be kneeling at someone's feet screaming a nasty and raspy wail of pain. 10 years it took me to fucking do that and yet nothing really changed. Now I'm just looked at with pity and the quizzical look that can only mean "when is this one gonna blow up again?" Oh, honey, I won't, you're just worried that you're just realizing this now. It's easy to be outside and just stay that way.

I was so happy, all the time. I was forced to lie in order to move forward. You love me? Yeah, as long as you earn it. Are you proud? Sure, as long as you don't fail. Am I okay because I feel like this? Well, it's fine as long as you keep it in. It's beautiful. "As long as..." my reality had always been subjected to a condition, and clause, a fucking constant reminder that I have to earn my happiness. I have to earn my own idea of self worth that is diluted through your standards. I have to earn reassurance from the people I surround myself. I must assume the best case scenario but I can't be surprised when it's the worst outcome.

Having loved a mad human made me realize how flawed I am. I was happy. So, so happy I forgot I wasn't. I tortured myself through endless nights of doubt, starvation with a full kitchen. Sleepless nights contemplating self harm and then decided against it because I had work and the cute client at work would see how damaged I was. I tortured myself with the idea of loneliness in a see of people, only to realize I've been in that see long enough that I grew a tail and fins. I was plagued my guilt because I didn't love them, but when exactly did it go from happy to uttermost bullshit? I was so happy I forgot what sadness was.

I was so happy it started hurting. Hurting when I failed to do something. It was excruciating when I was not able to buy a car because I had noticed I had spent my money of pleasing those who swore they'd provide for me. I was in pain when I showered and instead of singing, I just blasted music loud enough so that nobody heard my hyperventilating bitch ass. I was in so much pain that I welcomed it as my way of happiness. I loved my pain, because I've had it my whole life.

I had it when I was in forth grade and in order to fit in I had to go a sneak around to kiss a boy, and I didn't want to. It was there when I was accused of fighting other girls, but in reality I was trying to establish my self worth, so I was punished. In fifth grade I loved a boy so much I had written beautiful words to describe how much I loved his smile, and so he said I was stalking him and he got scared; 2 months later I was in a shrinks chair talking about it; fast-forward to last night, that same boy explained to me how much he wanted to fuck me now that he had lost weight. Middle school was terrible. Seventh grade, I was constantly degrading myself because another pretty blonde chick was only my friend when she could laugh through me. I insulted a perfectly great teacher because she noticed my self destructive behavior. Eighth grade came and I was lost with a blonde boy. He was beautiful and I was not. He was friends with the girl that swore fielty to me and he chose someone else and because he chose the pretty pale skin on someone else, I settled for the kid that wantedto finger me in the bleachers during recess. Ninth grade came and I was failing classes, parents were strict and hurtful, but they aren't to blame for my shortcomings. That's when I found myself in the arms of the pretty blonde thing I had fallen for. The pretty girl had him in public, I could only have him when we snuck around and he would hold me and kiss me like holding on to his life line. I was letting him touch me, but my self hatred didn't know no boundaries so I suck to my knees and gave my first blowjob at the top of staircase wearing only a lazy purple bra and the school uniform and the shame I'll forever wear because I did it without wanting to, but because I was expected to.

I was so happy to be out of there, that I ended up sinking deeper into my lie. I was smart, new and vulnerable. That's how I met the wholesome boy I called my first boyfriend who was nice and respectful, but he was as ugly as they come. I was a queen to him, but he was looking more like the ogre on the fairy tale and there came my vanity, my ego, my selfishness. I was brutal and I couldn't care less. High school started with a bang with the boy I played with, and when he got to close to my actual raw person, I kicked him out with a bang and he cried. I just stood there not knowing how to react, so I just went on to the next person I could lead on and play. Junior year I knew was difficult, and a black boy with a nice boy and a promising basketball future came around, I once again craved approval and degraded myself to it. That's how I ended up sneaking around 10 minutes before my parents picked me up. In the second floor, I'd found myself again on my knees, and expected to give a blowjob in exchange for attention, and like before, I was hidden, and I expected to be I had tears in my eyes, but because of my shame. Senior year came in, and the black boy with the attractive body was replaced with another, but this one only had pretty eyes and the promise of spoiling me with his family's money. Once again, I said yes when he said he wanted me to be his girlfriend, at least this time I was not hidden, but I was back in the cycle and I ditched my best friend in a movie theater so that I would be in the backseat on a Dodge, sucking my pseudo boyfriend's dick with tears on my eyes, not becauseofhis size, but becausethe disgust towards myself. Like before, I was expected to do so, and so I did.

Heavens above forgive the religion to blame women for sin and lust, but instead punish us for the boys who couldn't keep their dicks to themselves. The end of senior year came, and I was relieved, but then I fell for the guy my parents liked. Humble background, similar interests, and a promise of stability. I was ditched because for him I was a whore and his friends told him so, I accepted the insults and insinuations.

I was so happy, I forgot the rest. College was great and a religious nut job, a platonic love, a semi smart dipshit with the complex of being over everyone in experience, a quiet mature man that treated me with decency, the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #1 and the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #2, later, here I am.

I was so happy in these pictures, I had no idea was contemplating my own disappearance. I write this with migrane, blue ink from a ballpoint in my thighs, with nostalgic memories of moments where my mind wasn't this crowded. I was so happy it hurt. I guess that my logic dictates that happiness is painful and that my pain can bring me joy, but fuck I was so happy.

I had everything. I was pretty, I was smart, I was important. I'm still all those things, but right this very second, I'm happy, and painful so. Heavens above forgive for I have sinned...

I dared to fail... I sinned

I dared to fall into lust... I sinned

I dared to judge... I sinned

I fucking dared to wake up every miserable day... I had sinned.

I dared to be painfully happy... I sinned

I lied... and so that's my greatest sin of all.

I Miss The Old Me

In my final year of college, aged 17/18 I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life. Going to university is what you’re pushed towards these days, pushed by staff at college and in my case by my family. My parents pushed me not on purpose, but it was clearly the future for me that they wanted, I also felt some pressure coming from the fact my two older siblings had been to large universities and gained top degrees. I applied to a number of universities in the North of England despite home being far away in the South West. I ended up with an unconditional offer for one of the uni’s I had really liked the look of and found myself incredibly excited.

Fresher’s week rolled around and it seemed I’d hit the jackpot, I had six flatmates and they seemed like lovely people and the flat next door where also keen to join in. I’m in my third year now and can confirm that two of the guys from my flat and the flat next door have become my best friends. We all went out for every night of fresher’s week and many nights for the next few weeks after that, I can’t remember specifically if it was at the end of fresher’s week or sometime the week after that things became a little strange. I’ve had what I now know to have been small episodes of depression before, but what hit me in those first few weeks was something very new to me. During college I had self-harmed, not majorly or very often, just small scratches in places usually well hidden. It’s not that I wasn’t happy, I was, I loved my college years and I think back on them as the greatest years of my life so far. This episode that hit me early in first year made me long to hurt myself like nothing else. So I did. I’d go on a night out, have a good time and then return to my room and pull out my pen knife and cut across my wrist. The reason why was quite terrifying for me, it is a fairly long story but I feel the need to explain it all so please bear with it. When I finished secondary school I got my first major taste of how cruel life could be, I’d just finished my year 11 exams and felt positively about how I’d done in them, I was looking forward to the summer ahead in which I was going to a music festival with a huge group of friends and my then girlfriend, I was also going away on holiday with ‘the lads’ and looking forward to many parties followed by the exciting prospect of starting college. It was just a few days before the festival and a day or two after my final exam that my parents broke the news to me that my mum had been diagnosed with breast cancer and would be going to hospital whilst I was away on my lads holiday. I can’t explain the feeling that came over me the evening I found out. I did what I often do when I felt down and went for a walk, I’m lucky to live in the middle of the countryside surrounded by farmland, forests and rivers, it was on this walk that I made the realisation that I believe triggered my first episode of depression and has never quite let me free ever since. My mum’s cancer was my fault. This sounds impossible I know and I am also aware that there is no way that what I’m about to say makes it my fault but I still blame myself. A few months before the news about my mum I liked school very much and had a number of great friends but I just existed in that school, I wanted to stand out, be more noticeable or special in some way, maybe in a way that made me more interesting. Then I considered that if something horrible happened to me, or my family, like it does in many films, there would be a happy ending for me as those people in films always go through something terrible and end up being noticed. I was instantly ashamed by this thought, I wouldn’t dream of seeing anyone I love suffer, having now had therapy I’ve been told passing thoughts like this aren’t unnatural. But anyway, I blamed myself and that’s a lot to carry. Importantly, my mum pulled through and has regular check-ups and passes clear every time but that summer was a lonely time, I wasn’t myself at the festival, lost my girlfriend but managed to hold it together for the holiday with my friends. The rest of the summer I isolated myself, for some reason I couldn’t tell my friends what had happened and rather than pretending to be happy and listening to their petty troubles I kept it all to myself. When I  got back from my holiday and my mum was in hospital I’d sneak out of my house in the middle of the night, walk through fields in pitch black and lie down under the stars, it was my first taste of true loneliness. During that time and throughout college I had some nightmares of myself with cancer, I’d dream about staring at myself in a mirror, just a few strands of hair left on my head, skin grey and clinging to my thin and fragile body, eyes empty and as grey as my skin. This is the image that came to life when I started uni and it drove me mad. Instead it wasn’t just there in my dreams; I could see it, this ghostly image of myself right before my eyes everywhere I went. It brought back the guilt of my mum’s cancer and made me feel even more guilty thinking I was more worried for me than her, and so I hurt myself, several times. One night, when completely drunk, a flat mate of mine noticed my wrist and had a chat with me, as drunk as I was I let her into a few details and so she took my pen knife and I promised I wouldn’t hurt myself again, the second she left my room I put my fist through a photo frame smashing the glass and tearing up my knuckles, I then grabbed a shard and drove it into my wrist. For one of the first times in years I cried properly, scared of what had happened to me, convinced it wouldn’t end and seeing no solution. I had barely cried when I had found out about my mother, my grief was real but crying wasn’t my solution, that night at uni was terrifying. The next night we went out again and someone had heard that there was a great view of the city at the top of a public car park, so after the club we went up there, I strolled around the edge of the roof by myself and leant over the edge and looked at the drop to the solid tarmac below, I don’t think I need to specify the thought that went through my mind at that moment and, admittedly being drunk didn’t help, but I don’t think I’ve even admitted to myself how close I came to doing the last thing I would have ever done in my life that night. That night I cried again, all night, I spent the next few days alone and knew things had to change. Eventually they did, they improved a bit, truthfully I think I’ve just learnt to live with the thoughts I have.

When university itself started it certainly wasn’t what I thought it would be, I find it very difficult to explain this because I didn’t have a specific idea of what uni would be like in the first place. In a way it just felt no different to me than college, work was presented on presentations and the lecturers would talk about it in more detail than was shown on screen. Assignments were just longer versions of essays I’d already written at college and field trips were managed by staff with clip boards and registers like I’d seen through my whole life. What I’m saying is university itself disappointed me; you’re not treated like an adult any more than a college student is. Obviously the living situation is completely different to what most teenagers have ever experienced, living with people your age, buying your own food and doing everything for yourself came as a bit of a shock to me as I’m sure it does to all first year students.

By Christmas time I realised that university wasn’t making me happy and I really didn’t enjoy my course at all, my attendance was incredibly low because my sleeping pattern was completely ruined and my depression kept me locked in my room and in my bed for hours each day. If you’ve had depression you might understand what I’m saying, everyone’s depression is different but it’s more incapacitating than I could ever explain. It appears as pure laziness but it feels like you’re not in control of your own actions, you wake up in the middle of the day and even if you’re in pain from hunger, desperately thirsty and keen to get up and make something of the day it’s the one thing you can’t seem to do. It’s not like I spent this time on my phone or watching TV, I simply lay there, alone with my own thoughts, listening in on the sounds of the city and envying the lives of those who occupy it with me. Depression is draining, you feel tired despite doing nothing and the thoughts that pass through your mind are truly horrible. I can’t remember a day when a thought hasn’t gone through my head telling myself that I’m useless, worthless, ugly, horrible, boring, and selfish or a day I’ve not felt numb, cold, frustrated, despaired, overwhelmed and empty.

I went through the early stages of dropping out of university and by February was almost a signature away from doing so, not that I’d told my parents anything. The day I went in to uni to make the final decision a rainbow shone over my university building and something felt different that day, a positivity I’d almost forgotten was possible and in that moment something made me stay, at least until the end of the year to give me a chance to discuss it with my parents and let myself get into a better state of mind to make a better decision. So I stayed, passed all my assignments and exams (just), spoke to my parents over Easter (who certainly weren’t pleased) and got ready and excited to be home for the summer. Again something had to go wrong.

I was unwell for a few days before I went home at the end of first year, it was getting progressively worse and by the time my parents came to collect me I wasn’t in a good state. The next day, back at home I went to the doctors who, after a few tests, told me I needed to go to hospital very soon as my right kidney simply wasn’t functioning properly. I spent a terrifying five nights in hospital during which many tests were carried out to specify the cause of my problem, they couldn’t find one from the basic tests and so I convinced myself my nightmare had come true, that I had kidney cancer and soon the ghostly image of myself would become a reality. However I improved, and when I was told I was fine and certainly well enough to go home I was delighted. The pain persisted over that summer so my cancer doubts took months to fade. But it was my time in hospital where I had a weird sort of epiphany that I should continue with university, things could be a lot worse clearly, besides I had no backup plan and no job I wanted to dive straight in to.  

Coming out of hospital I had new lease of life, I found enjoyment in so many things that normally go unnoticed, the warmth of the sun, the simple beauty of green fields and blue sky and the sound of birds. I started running and cycling, worked every day I could and I met up with my friends and girlfriend at every opportunity I got. I prayed that things would stay so sweet and I did manage to sustain the optimism into the start of my second year. I arrived at our lovely new house and tried to continue being healthy and happy. I ate well, joined a gym, slept and woke up at regular times and attended almost every lecture and seminar, which was a huge improvement for me. Things were going well and carried on like this for a few months, and although the content of my course still wasn’t exactly lighting my fire I knew that I was getting enough enjoyment out of my life to carry on and get through it successfully. It was then that I was reminded that life could be cruel, not that it was clear how cruel it was being for quite a while, but it turned out that everything was about to change.

I was ten minutes into a lecture and a horrible sensation came over me, light headed, heart pounding, shaking and a feeling of incredibly intense sickness that started in the pit of my stomach and quickly grew, occupying my entire abdomen and then pushed up my throat as if I was going to throw up, I stood up, pushed past people to get to the isle and ran up the steps and out of the lecture doors straight to the toilet where, to my shock I wasn’t actually sick. Being sick has never bothered me at all, apologies for the details but I’ve made myself be sick before when it needed to be done. Confused, still feeling very sick, I stayed in the toilet until the lecture was over, and not wanting to make a scene walking back into the lecture, let alone possibly having to walk out again. Afterwards, my friend brought out my things for me, and I went home, deciding to miss the next lecture and get into bed as clearly I had some kind of bug. I can’t remember specifically what order it happened in, but this feeling of sickness or feelings similar began spreading to other aspects of my life, eating out, the gym, any shop I went to, the cinema, pubs. Everything. This happened over a period of a few months, firstly it occurred in all lectures and by January I practically gave up going, it wasn’t worth putting myself through, I wasn’t paying attention if I managed to stay in the lecture and every time it happened I just felt crap in every way for the rest of the day.

During this time I had another cancer scare, feeling generally unwell for weeks, I’d had a cough for months, I got easily out of breath, felt continually tired and a pain had developed in my shoulder. Rule number one of any illness should be to never search for your symptoms online but stupidly I did and everything I was experiencing seemed to correlate with lung cancer. I was a heavy smoker throughout my first year at uni but had quit shortly into second year so with this history I was only more convinced that once again I was on the path to the ghostly figure of myself I’ve long feared. I went to the doctors and he practically laughed at me when I asked if I may have lung cancer, a response that didn’t fully convince me but certainly made me realise I’m far too hasty to make assumptions. It was then he asked if I had any other issues with my health and I mentioned the sickness feeling I was experiencing in an ever increasing number of situations. It was then I was referred to a mental health professional, deep down I had already figured out this was what was going on with me. The wait to be seen was long as the waiting list to see any mental health worker in this country always seems to be. But to cut a long story short by the time my meeting with her came around I was already aware of what she was going to tell me, I have developed some quite severe form of anxiety and of course there is the depression alongside that. No offence to her but she wasn’t much help, she wasn’t trained for therapy and the waiting list for CBT on the NHS was at least 9 months. Apart from signing me up to an online course there wasn’t a lot that she could do for me, especially with second year only having a few months left.

I slipped back into my old ways, sleep didn’t come easily to me so my sleeping pattern was destroyed I didn’t eat particularly healthily and certainly not regularly. I don’t know if I’m alone in this way but I have an ability to completely hide what I’m going through from others, I could be lying in my room blankly staring at my TV with no hopes of achieving anything that day and then someone could walk into my room and I’d chat enthusiastically and laugh and smile, then they’d leave my room and my face would drop and I’d sink back down into my bed and hide from the world around me. The scary thing is I’m not sure if any of that laughter and smiling was ever real. Near the end of second year I was virtually incapable of eating out, could barely enter any kind of shop without walking out feeling sick, hadn’t been to a lecture or the gym in months or really done anything. There was a month without lectures (not that I was going) at the end of the year where things did improve a little, I forced myself to do a few things like join my friends at the pub and go into shops. I got my assignments done but unfortunately had an exam coming up, I hadn’t tried to get help from university for my problems which was stupid as I could’ve got deadline extensions and possibly a different style of exam. The night before my exam I felt as sick as I ever had and didn’t sleep for one second. Not a problem I’ve ever had before, people used to tell me I was way too relaxed about exams in previous years. I was seated at the very back of the exam hall which helped for some reason as I felt if I had to leave I could do so more inconspicuously. The exam was just an hour long and when writing I was slightly distracted from the feeling I was imminently about to throw up. When the exam was over I had a feeling of pride, I’d done it, if I could get through that surely I can conquer the feeling altogether in all aspects of my life.  

  A week later came the thing I’d been dreading the most, a week long field trip to the Czech Republic. Once again I didn’t sleep at all the night before but in the morning I felt a bit better, I was okay on the day of travelling which included long coach journeys, the airport and being on the plane itself, all things I had assumed would really be a problem for me, the night we arrived I even at some food in the hall with everyone else on my course. I couldn’t believe how well it was going, the next morning I ate breakfast in the hall again along with everyone else and almost felt excited for the next five days. Then we all had to sit and listen to a lecturer walk us through the details of the days excursions, five minutes in the feeling that I was going to be sick came out of nowhere and felt so incredibly real once again I couldn’t resist getting out of that room. Rather than walk you through all the details I can confirm that I didn’t stop feeling sick for a significant amount of time at all for the entire week. I assumed I must surely be genuinely ill; normally I could eventually get comfortable in situations to the point where I could just about manage. However, as soon as we got home and I had a meal in my own house I felt fine. That week in the Czech Republic my anxiety meant I missed out on all of the education each day and all of the fun in the evenings, I barely ate, barely slept and felt utterly miserable. I never knew that it was possible for anxiety to take hold of someone for an entire week, this sent me to the worst point my anxiety has ever been. I couldn’t do anything, I was going home for summer soon and hoped that wouldn’t be so bad as anxiety wasn’t something I associated with life at home but within days it was clear I was wrong. If I was in my girlfriend’s house and one of her parents came to stand in her bedroom door to have a chat I’d feel sick, feel trapped and helpless. We went into town to go shopping and I felt sick before we’d even left the house, I couldn’t go into the smallest shop without feeling sick. I couldn’t eat at my own dinner table if my parents had friends over.

This is what university has done to me, I’m not saying it’s fully universities fault as clearly this isn’t a problem faced by most students but certainly the whole university environment had something to do with it. In school and college I was never the most popular but I was always up for doing anything, especially if it was a laugh, I wasn’t afraid to make a fool of myself in front of people. I could make jokes in class and talk to anyone, go anywhere even if I knew nobody, now I can’t even go to a small and quiet pub with my friends.

As I said, I’m in my third year now, wishing I could go back in time and drop out half way through first year to potentially avoid any of this anxiety rubbish. I haven’t fully enjoyed anything I’ve done for almost an entire year now as I’ve either had a full on anxiety attack, mild panic feeling or I’ve at least had it nagging away in my mind, never letting me be free. It controlled me completely for a little while, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully free. I told my parents about my anxiety early during the summer, they were great and got me to go to a therapist and I made real improvement over the summer, I could go and eat in certain small places, go into shops and pubs and never feel fine but I could usually cope, as great as this is as I’ve missed it so much it’s so far from where I want to be. For the majority of the summer I was quite positive, getting to do things again was great and I got back into routines. I returned to uni in quite high spirits, after everything I’ve started to overcome maybe I can get through this year reasonably well. Lectures have been running almost 2 months and I’m afraid to say I haven’t attended a single one. I really did try, but I’ve never even got past the door. I’m just living with one other person, my best friend, who is very motivated for his course and spends much of his time on his work, I don’t blame him for this at all, it’s just a shame as it leaves me with many hours spent alone each day. I’m feeling very low, thankfully I’ve gained the strength not to hurt myself despite quite a strong longing to do so sometimes. But the scars on my wrist will be a constant reminder throughout my whole life that I didn’t always have this strength and that I do have the ability to hurt myself.  The main reason I refuse to do it again isn’t for me, it’s for others, hardly anyone has spotted my scars as I’m incredibly careful but those who have are more hurt by them than I ever was, and hurting other people only makes me feel worse about myself.

Why do I feel so bad about myself I’ve been asked? I’m spending £9,000 a year on uni fees to stay in my room and do nothing, I’ve received lots of help now and haven’t really made much important progress, so I’ve let the people who have tried helping me down, including my parents who paid for my therapy at home. I feel like somehow I brought all of this upon myself, it took me a while to figure out how, but during my therapy over summer I was subjected to some hypnotherapy where my counsellor tried to make contact with my subconscious thoughts, ultimately she was trying to figure out what caused all of this, when speaking to me there was supposed to be a voice in my head telling me the answers to her questions. No matter what she asked me or said to me all that little voice in my head ever said was “because you deserve this”. Why I subconsciously think I deserve to suffer in this way I’m not entirely sure but I assume it’s punishment for my mums cancer which I hold responsibility for and seeing as I don’t have cancer myself, despite my regular scares, this is the format of punishment I’m getting.

One of the most annoying parts about my anxiety is that I know I’m not going to be sick, of the dozens of times I’ve had the feeling I’ve never been sick, so people have said to me well if you know you’re not going to be sick what’s the problem? Well the problem is they’ll never understand quite how horrible the feeling is and the body and the brains instincts when you feel like you’re imminently about to throw up is to get out of there. Besides it’s not just the sickness, it’s the racing heartbeat, the sweating, the shivering, the light headedness and the ringing in my ears that make it all the more difficult.

Undoubtedly though what scares me most is the thought that I may never get the old me back. I don’t believe I’ll ever completely budge my depression, but right now I would do anything just to be free from my anxiety. When it was just depression I could go out and get some relief from it, escape from it even if just briefly and came in waves meaning there were times I was free. My anxiety hasn’t loosened its hold for one second since it became severe.

03: No Rain Drops On Roses

Andy’s blood was boiling. His icy blue eyes were locked onto a man near the side of the stage. He was clearly out of place among the young screaming fangirls that made up the majority of the audience. He was probably around their age, dressed in a black jean vest and ‘Iron Maiden T-shirt. He had a long black beard and several facial piercings. He clearly wasn’t here to see Black Veil Brides, all throughout their first few songs he was flipping them off, and mouthing the word ‘faggot’ at Andy. 

Ashley noticed the man, flipping him the middle finger back. Typical hecklers, they had been showing up at their shows since the start. Something about pretty boys in makeup really got under the skin of metalheads. Most of them were just club regulars who liked to make their disapproval known. Ashley didn’t think much of them, not everyone is going to like you. As long as they weren’t hurting fans, he could care less. Andy on the other hand... it just seemed to eat at him. 

The word faggot had always been somewhat of a trigger word for Andy. It was the word of choice for all the bullies that relentlessly went after him his whole school career. His memories of middle and high school were filled with the taunts of the ‘cool’ kids. In high school, someone even spray painted ‘fag’ on his locker. That’s what he got for being different, for not looking like the all American jock. 

Even after he lost weight, even after being ‘emo’ became cool, it never stopped. It was the main reason he dropped out when he was sixteen, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

Fat, stupid, ugly, loser, freak, devil worshiper, worthless, he’d heard it all. Faggot, that one bothered him the most. He kept telling himself that it wasn’t true, they were just saying that. They were just trying to hurt him. Couldn’t they see? He had more women begging to fuck him than they ever would. 

Being in a band, being in the public eye; it was just like high school. Only somehow worse... He got called the same names. The words affected him just as much. 

The song ended, and the stage lights came on, lighting up the crowd. “Hey, hey, can I get everyone to be quiet real quick?” Andy asked, setting his eyes on the man. 

“This motherfucker has been flipping us off the whole show,” he said, pointing out the guy. The hoard of fans turned their attention to him, booing and yelling things. 

“You got a fucking problem with me tough guy?” Andy challenged, walking up to the edge of the stage. 

“Yeah, I don’t like fucking faggots!” the man yelled back, smirking. 

“Faggot? You think I’m a fucking faggot? You fucking wish you fat piece of shit! Suck my fucking dick!” Andy yelled, the anger finally boiling over. 

The fans started to cheer and chant his name which only fueled his adrenaline. He felt someone grab his shoulder, pulling him back a bit, “Andy... that’s enough just let it go” Ashley whispered in his ear. 

“You think you’re just going to come to our show and fucking call me a faggot? You must be fucking in love with me or something. So why don’t you go home and fucking jack off to this?” the younger boy’s normally calm voice was laced with spite. 

He felt hysterical and out of control like someone else was speaking. The man lurched forward towards the stage. Before he could make it more than a few steps though security was on him, wrestling him towards the exit. The fans went wild, once again chanting the singer’s name. 

“That’s right get the fuck out of here!” Andy yelled before taking a deep breath and trying to compose himself. “I’m sorry everyone, I just get a little heated sometimes.” 

The rest of the show went without incident, but Andy couldn’t calm down. With shaking hands he left the stage, the adrenaline and rage still pumping through his veins. He slammed his fist into the wall of the green room, the force leaving a slight indentation. 

“Hey, hey, hey, that’s enough.” Ashley proclaimed, grabbing the singer by the arm and pulling him back. 

“Let go of me!” Andy screamed, jerking his arm free. 

The next thing he knew he was slammed against the wall, Ashley had both his arms pinned. “Fucking cool it kid, it’s a fucking heckler let it go!” he growled. Despite being shorter, Ashley was stronger than Andy. 

“You can’t keep fucking blowing up to anyone who calls you a name. You’re an adult act like it.”  “Why am I just going to let someone call me a fucking faggot?!”  “Oh my god Andy, it’s a word.” Ashley rolled his eyes, letting the singer go. 

“Yeah, and I got called it my whole fucking life. Excuse me for standing up for myself.”  “Well, it looks really bad when you fucking fight people like that on stage. That shit could cost us opportunities, who wants to work with a band that throws a hissy fit on stage?” 

Logically, Andy knew that Ashley was right. It was a bad look to fly off the handle over little things, and venues didn’t want to book artist that did that. Emotionally though, Andy couldn’t accept it. It cut too deep. 

“Fuck that!” Andy spat. 

“Oh yeah, fuck our careers. Get a grip on yourself you sound like a child. Why do you even care what they think? Just ignore them. You know what they say isn’t true so who cares?!” 

Andy shook his head, digging through his bag for his pack of cigarettes. His hands were shaking as he struggled to light it, inhaling deeply. He waited for the rush of nicotine to calm his nerves, but it wasn’t cutting it tonight. He tried to keep the tears from falling. He wasn’t even sad, he was just so fucking angry. Mostly at himself, Ashley was right he shouldn’t let someone make him act like that. 

“Just sit down and cool off for a bit, we’ve still got the signing to do,” Ashley said before leaving the singer by himself. 

---

Andy watched as Ashley flirted with the busty bartender. It was after midnight, and all the fans from the show were long gone. All the bands on tour had decided to get drinks at the bar across the street to celebrate the first show. They were all pretty plastered at this point, all except Andy and the guys from Motionless in White. 

Since he wasn’t drinking that left him at a table all by himself, sipping on a diet coke. He had no interest in the drunken foolery and desperate attempts to bed the hostess that was going on. He flipped through tweets about the show, mostly fans talking about how he ‘sure did show that hater.’ 

“Hey, is this seat taken?” Andy looked up to see a man standing in front of him. He looked like he was in his 30′s, with long brown hair tied back in a messy bun. His arms were covered in black tribal tattoos, and he had emerald green eyes. 

“Um, I guess not?” Andy replied, taking another drink of his soda. 

“Awesome, just so you know I’m not a creep or anything. I was at your show.” the mystery man flashed a smile, showing off his pearly white teeth. 

“Oh, really?” “Yeah. I mean it’s sort of my job. I work at the venue, I’m one of the sound techs. I liked the set though.” 

Andy smiled, “Thanks.” 

“Sorry about that guy by the way. He’s a regular, and he likes to try and cause a scene with bands he doesn’t like. I’m Ryan by the way.” he said, extending a hand. 

Andy hesitated before shaking it. “I’m Andy.”

“So why aren’t you over there with the rest of your band Andy?” the way the man said his name made a shiver go down the singer’s spine. 

“I don’t really drink, it’s not my thing.”  “That’s respectable. You smoke?” Ryan asked, holding up a pack of cigarettes. 

“Yeah.” “Wanna go outside then? You seem kind of bored in here. Plus it’s quieter out back.”  “Sure.. why not,” Andy said, a million questions running through his mind. 

Who the fuck was this guy? And why did he give a shit about him? Either way, if it meant free cigarettes, then Andy would entertain whatever it was this guy wanted to talk about. He probably was hoping to snag a gig as one of their tech guys or something for a future tour. 

Andy followed Ryan out behind the bar. The cool night air was refreshing compared to the stuffiness of the bar. Ryan handed him a cigarette, lighting it for him. 

“So you liked our show?” Andy asked, breaking the awkward silence. 

“Well I mean, I liked you,” he smirked, leaning against the brick wall of the bar. 

“Um, thanks?” Andy blushed, nervously messing with his hair. 

“I’m not really into glam-rock, but you held my interest.” he chuckled. Andy could feel the man’s eyes on him. 

Andy finished his cigarette before tossing it onto the concrete. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he kind of liked the feeling. He felt the rush of hormones go through his body. This guy wasn’t looking for a job with the band that was for sure. He stepped closer to the man, almost as if on autopilot. His brain was screaming at him that he should go back inside, but he didn’t obey. 

“You’re very beautiful.” Ryan purred, letting his burnt out cigarette fall to the ground. He wrapped a hand around Andy’s waist, pulling him in. 

“I’ve been told that before.” Andy smiled, draping his arms over Ryan’s shoulders. 

The older man leaned in, hesitating only inches from Andy’s lips. Andy closed the distance, locking lips with the other man. Ryan’s hands drifted down to grab the singer’s ass. Andy’s mind was racing, how did he end up here? Like this? He didn’t want to stop though, he wanted more. He was beyond starved for affection. 

“Mm- fuck” Andy moaned into the kiss. He shut his eyes, feeling himself get hard as Ryan kissed down his jawline, nipping at his neck. Their lips found each other once again. 

Ryan’s hands were all over Andy’s body. Slowly though the euphoric feeling started to fade as the reality hit the singer. ‘Oh god what am I doing?’ he thought, feeling the panic rise in chest. 

“S-Stop!” Andy yelled, pushing the man off of him. 

Ryan gave him a bewildered look before he could even get a word out Andy ran back into the bar. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what the fuck was he doing?! He felt a sick feeling sinking into the pit of his stomach. He needed to get out of this place... now. 

“We’ve got to go!” Andy stated, practically grabbing Ashley by the collar. The rest of the band was nowhere to be found, probably already back on the bus. 

“What? Why?” Ashley stammered, clearly not wanting to leave the hostess he’d been charming the whole night. 

Andy looked behind him to see if Ryan had followed him inside. He hadn’t, but that didn’t make him feel any better. The sick feeling was getting worse, and he could feel his gag reflex starting to kick in. “We just have to go now!” Andy insisted. 

He bursts through the doors of the bar that led out front. Ashley followed closely behind him. “What the fuck Six? What are you freaking out about?” 

Andy’s legs were shaking as he braced himself against a trashcan by the curb. He pushed his hair back before throwing up the little he’d had to eat that night. The images from minutes ago kept flashing through his mind as he struggled to catch his breath. 

He dry heaved a few more times before finally managing to calm down enough to get a deep breath in. Ashley was standing a few feet away, staring at the singer. 

“What?” Andy asked, wiping his lips. 

“Are you really not going to fucking explain all that? Dude I was this close to banging that chick, and you freak the fuck out and pull me away?!”  “I want to leave. Where are the other guys?”  “On the fucking bus, Andy what the fuck?” 

Andy’s heart was still beating wildly in his chest, and he started to feel sick all over again. “I-I just really need to get out of here.” 

Ashley sighed, realizing that something was clearly wrong with the younger boy. “Okay, well you’re not going to throw up anymore are you?” 

“No.. I’m fine. I just had.. a panic attack or something. Let’s just get on the bus.. please?” Andy said, looking around frantically. 

“Bus it is then, but you owe me.” 

Two Wishes 01: Nico Loves Maki

"But the water and bread here? They just make it worse. Much worse. And .. WE" Maki pointed to herself, then Nico. "Don't need to eat or drink, anyway. Or sleep. Or go to the bathroom. All of that is for the live ones. And you're as dead as it gets, Nico-chan."

Nico woke up in pain, which was a surprise. Not the pain, the waking up part.

It didn't feel like she was in a hospital. When she opened her eyes, she realized she must be still dreaming. She hoped. The sky was smokey browns and reds, as was the barren landscape. She, herself, was lying on hard, baked ground. The dream didn't seem to go away. She saw a faint shadow fall on her. She looked in the direction it came from, and there was her reason for not existing.

Nico couldn't really even remember the last time she'd been exactly happy, but the last straw had definitely been when she found out the latest reason Maki never answered her messages, even to mock them, was that she was inhabiting a drawer in the city morgue. But there she was, in the flesh. Or something like that. Looking at Nico with that amused look she'd gotten so sadly familiar with.

"You got it, Nico-chan," she said.There was something very dark and supernatural about her voice now.

"M-M-maki-chan!" Nico couldn't help yelling.

"N-N-N-Nico no more!" was the response, in a fake-sweet sing-song voice. "Welcome to hell, honey-y. Better get used to it."

Since Nico knew she'd wake up any time now, she wondered why in her dream she'd abandoned her normal attitude towards Maki, which had been to be completely self-denying, while Maki was alive. Maybe, on top of everything else, she was angry at Maki for not caring if she finally overdosed or not.

A day of confused, frightened, increasingly frantic thoughts later, not daring to move from her lying position, Nico realized it didn't matter if she was dreaming; whatever it was wasn't going away.

Maki had come back, and with bread and water, to boot. Which was ... good. Nico had never in her life felt this hungry and thirsty. When Maki got closer to her, she suddenly tossed the bread to the ground, and ground it in with her foot. Then she watered the mess with all of the water in the bottle she'd been carrying, and threw the vessel overhand. It arced out over a cliff and Nico could hear it smash on the way down.

"M-m-m-Maki-chan!" Unfortunately, Nico was again reduced to incoherence.

"N-N-N-Nico!" Maki smirked. "Doing you a favor, honey."

Nico must have made a confused face. Or an angry one. Or both.

"You're oh so hungry and thirsty, right? Of course you are," Maki said, nodding her head and shrugging.

"But the water and bread here? They just make it worse. Much worse. And .. WE" Maki pointed to herself, then Nico. "Don't need to eat or drink, anyway. Or sleep. Or go to the bathroom. All of that is for the live ones. And you're as dead as it gets, Nico-chan."

Nico must have still looked confused.

"Look. Ignore it. Ignore it long enough and it's just like being on a diet and dehydrated. Nothing you can't bear."

To take her mind off the pain and the hunger and the thirst, Nico's mind wandered to the big "why" that had filled her thoughts as she lay back and everything faded to black.

"Why? Why did you .. why did you hate me so much? What did I ever do but love you, Maki?  What did I ever do to you, ever?" If they didn't need to drink, Nico wondered where tears came from here.

"Ah, same old Nico-chan. That's just what the doctors' daughter ordered," said Maki with a laugh. It couldn't be called a nice laugh, though it wasn't a cartoon villain laugh, either. It had a lot of bitterness and cruelty.

"Nico, honey, you mean the note, right? The one for you to read once I was dead? Blablabla, I never loved you, you were always a hateful, ugly, stupid, worthless drag on my time ... let's see .. what else did I say ... oh, you were lucky I took pity on you but you took advantage of it like the dumb little loser parasite you've always been. That letter was a lot of fun."

She looked at Nico with genuine enthusiasm. "Remember when I said the only people that would ever possibly want to f___ you were old, fat lolicons? And that that was why you always missed your dead father so much, because you were horny and ugly and missed his d___? That part made Anju and Erena laugh so hard ... so hard Anju wet herself."

Maybe this was the afterlife hell of confusion. Maybe, because Nico didn't understand a word Maki was saying. Of course, she remembered every hateful, painful, soul-destroying word. But Maki was acting like it was a game. Like it was fun. Why would Nico have ever been devoted to someone who could do that? But as she had the thought, it was followed quickly by another one. Regardless, she had been. She still was. Loving Maki wasn't something you could walk away from, if you were Nico. She thought she heard Maki mumble something, like "Didn't make the sex bad, though, we were so high."

But then Maki looked her in the eye. "The why should be obvious, but I bet it isn't. The point of the letter was to make you kill yourself, Nico. Sheesh. Connect the dots, for once! And it worked, obviously."

"W-Why ..." Nico began.

"I figured hell would be boring, and it is. So if you get to bring just one album, or one pet, or one stuffed animal, you make it your favorite, right? So I decided, 'let's have my favorite chew toy. Her reactions are so cute and hilarious when she's being humiliated, after all.' "

"Not that," Maki continued, holding up a finger for emphasis, "I didn't think of bringing my favorite lover, instead. But it's harder to trick a tough girl like her into dying when you're strung out on heroin and opiate pills than it is a vulnerable and gullible waif with her head already half in the noose. And I guessed the Powers That Be wouldn't let me and Anju f___ the eons away. Plus, that gets old once you've had your thousandth sex partner, to be honest."

Despite herself, Nico had to ask. "Thousandth? You mean, here in ... in ... wherever this is?"

"Nico-chan, does this place look like it has a single's spot? No, I obviously mean while alive, idiot. I beat Anju and Erena to 1000 by only a month. I'm just hotter than them, so I had an advantage." With that she twirled her hair, but in a completely fake and self-satisfied way.

"But .. but .. Nico was ... was the first?"

"Well, yeah, technically. Back when I had no idea what a good lover looked like. Congratulations on acquiring my virtue, Nico-chan - if you use an electron microscope, you might even locate it. Or maybe a telescope, it's so far gone. Let's make a joke in English: it's in Uranus!"

Nico was crying again.

"Oh, she's crying again. This is wonderful. Hey, Nico, did you know you were the most boring person to f___ in all of µ's?"

Nico looked up. It was obvious she was shocked by the news that Maki had slept with all the other girls (as well as the cut about her being Maki's least favorite).

"Oh, come on, Nico! I had every possible kind of sex with about 140 times that many girls and guys, why would I leave them out? They aren't that ugly and boring. Heck, I wouldn't even leave you out of the bottom three-fourths of a percent. That would hardly be school spirit, would it? By the way, Mika, Fumiko and Hideko were excellent. That's because they insisted on always having a foursome. Eventually I learned that a threesome is better than a pair, a foursome is even better, and an orgy is the best. But ..." She looked around.

She looked back at Nico with a wink. "I guess that bit of wisdom is going to go to waste here." And from the look in her eye, he had something else evil to add.

Sure enough: "You wouldn't know about the orgies, come to think of it. After all, you slept through all the ones you went to." And that made no sense, either.

"Ni ... Nico has never been to any orgy and Nico would never ..."

"Well, they're not called that, Nico. Idiot! They're called parties. Remember going to parties with me? We both knew you were a lightweight drinker, right?"

Nico, for a reason she couldn't quite pin down, had a cold feeling.

"Nico, I'll get you a drink, what are you having?" Maki said in a lovey dovey voice.

"Maki, this tastes funny ...." she said in a good, if cruel, imitation of Nico's voice.

"Well, drink it down and I'll have them make the next one better, okay, honey?"

"And then, Nico being a lightweight, she falls asleep, and wakes up at home. Her beloved Maki must have got her there somehow. And Nico is sore all over, but Maki tells her it's because she slept wrong at the party again, and Nico always believes her beloved Maki-chan." She looked at Nico like she was a bug.

"Of course, the guys that were having their way with a cute unconscious girl we told everyone was in middle school didn't mind carrying her to the car, so we could continue everything at my place. So I have to say, getting poor sleepy Nico home wasn't a big sacrifice. The truth is, Nico, it wasn't only the old, bald, fat lolicons that wanted you, they just paid the most for the privilege.”

“Of course …” She added thoughtfully, “They paid a lot more for your siblings, obviously.”

Nico stared at her, uncomprehendingly. “After you were hospitalized, we got your mom lured out on a pretext. We lost track of her somewhere in Central Europe, but I have to assume she’s earning her keep, if she’s still alive, I mean. Pimping out your siblings was lucrative - goodness yes - but it was too much like work for me, Nico. We basically killed time until we got the right buyers. Then I had enough money to keep me high and living in luxury for what turned out to be the rest of my life."

Finally Nico had it together enough to protest. “But I … I … always … “

“L-l-l-loved Maki!” Maki said, sneeringly. “Yes, how many times did everyone say that. Nico Loves Maki. Nico Loves Maki. True, but beside the point.”

“How … when …” Nico couldn’t formulate a proper question, but it was as if Maki could read her mind.

“Finally, she arrives at a question I don’t mind answering,” Maki said. Apparently the look of contempt she was giving Nico was a permanent fixture. “Remember our shrine visit, honey-y-y?”

Maybe Nico should learn to enjoy these cold feelings. They were the only ones she could get from now on.

“I bet,” Maki said, sticking the tip of her tongue out of the side of her mouth, “You wished for something like ‘I want to be a better girlfriend! I want to love Maki more each day!”

Bingo. If they hadn’t been so embarrassed, so afraid of being seen and teased by Nozomi, they would have, of course, been at her shrine. But after doing hatsumodethere, They had gone to a shrine they’d noticed on the way, located nearby. It was completely run down, almost abandoned, but in their infatuated state that had made it seem more romantic.

“You know, before I OD-ed, I had it worked out with A-RISE to have your urn repository say 'Yazawa Nico - she was a lousy f___' in advance for when you finally did the right thing. But those other bitches in Mu’s were thwarting it. According to Tsubasa, who can be a real buzz-kill, by the way, they abandoned their efforts and your actual inscription was going to be 'Nico Loved Maki.' Well, at least they acknowledged your master, Yazawa Hachikou. Mine says “F___ you! I had a way better time than you’ll EVER have!” That’s a hint."

A … hint? Nico didn’t get it.

"Poor, innocent, stupid Maki was stressing about you graduating, us splitting up, her medical education, your idol obsession. So she just wished to enjoy your time together, whatever you had, to the maximum."

“But that girl,” and Maki winked at Nico, “didn’t understand what a real maximum is. So, at first, being new to sex, she thought all the f___ing we did was wonderful. All the time with your loving family. Holding hands on the way to school! Ooh, daring!”

“But that,” she continued, “Isn’t miles within what the maximum enjoyment of our relationship turned out to be. I knew from the start I wanted to be in charge. On top. That that made it much hotter. But after a while, how docile you were just became boring. Sex became boring. You became the most boring of all. So I took two different approaches. First, I started cheating on you at every opportunity. That was wonderful fun, and it made everything naughty and hot again. And I started trying to make you do things you really didn’t want to. So, breaking your will over and over again - also hot. But eventually you were like a stuffed toy I had outgrown. That’s when I started making sure you found out about the cheating. Your tears were a real source of pleasure, I can tell you that much.”

That did explain a lot, Nico thought. The ropes tied far too tight. The biting that broke the flesh and once even left a small scar. And the way she stopped hiding her cheating. The humiliation - eventually that was a standard part.

“And of course, I looked at how I could leverage your stupid, pet-like devotion to me to have a good time. Well, that worked out awfully well. And I got Erena and Anju to form a wild-girl gang with me. Tsubasa was pissed, but to appease her we whored out ourselves - and you, of course, Sleeping Beauty - to a few producers and got A-RISE and Tsubasa an inside line on some great venues and opportunities. After that she was see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Problem solved.”

Problem solved??? It all sounded like a problem to Nico.

“Maki-chan was not like this all along. Nico’s heart would have known.”

“Nico’s heart is even stupider than Nico, frankly,” Maki said, laughing. “But you’re right, everything changed after our shrine visit. You changed, I changed. It’s almost enough to make you superstitious. Oh, wait, here we are in the afterlife. Maybe I mean, it’s almost enough to clue you in on how reality really works.”

For the first time ever, Maki looked uncertain. “I’m not stupid, contrariwise. The Powers That Be wouldn’t have allowed you to be here with me for no reason. And the hunger and thirst and heat and so on aside, I’ve had it suspiciously easy. You’re probably here because you let your passion for one person make you neglect every other thing and person you cared about, is my guess. Why I’m here is trivial. But at some point, the other shoe is going to drop. It could be you’ll only be here long enough to make me suffer remorse … go back to the weakling I was … and really suffer ...”And throw the bread and water out instead of gloating after you ate and drank it,she thought.

Maki clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh s__t! It’s already starting. I would never say that in my right mind. I might have even given you hope!” She squared her shoulders. “If that’s what’s happening, I promise I’ll be true to my wish and enjoy myself with you as long as I can, I warn you.” She started to approach Nico, that girl could see out of the corner of her eye. She was still too exhausted and shocked to bother to move.

Nico, meanwhile, had been tormented by the idea that she’d abandoned her dreams and neglected her beloved family, who depended on her, for this sickening travesty of a love relationship. She was looking for something - anything - to cling to to keep a toehold in the realm of sanity.

What was the one thing she knew for sure? It was a sad realization.

“Still … still …” she said. The gesture she made, without lifting her head, was a dull parody of her Nico-nico-nii finger hooks. “Nico loves Maki.”

“Of course you do, honey,” Maki said with an unreadable expression, “and that’s your problem.”

Maki sighed. “Probably a good idea,” she said.

Next Chapter »

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AO3

AYYYY I’m going to share my mental health story

I was watching a thing on youtube about someone who was sharing their story, and I decided I wanted to do that too. This may contain triggers, but if you do decide to read it, read it all the way through. 

You should know that I’ve only ever told a few people about this, I’ve never told any of my friends off the internet, or my parents, and it should be noted that I HAVE NOT TALKED TO NOR AM I A PROFESSIONAL. I SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN PROFESSIONAL HELP AND IF YOU ARE CAN RELATE TO ANY OF THIS STUFF GET HELP, TRUST ME I WISH I HAD BUT THERE WERE OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES BEYOND MY CONTROL AND A LOT THAT I KNOW NOW THAT I DIDN’T KNOW THEN. SERIOUSLY, IT CAN’T HURT SO JUST DO IT.

But seriously, it’s taken me a long time to get to a point where I can share this, and even now it’s only on a somewhat anonymous post where no one I actually know will ever find it. 

Now that I’m done yelling at you, I can start. 

Sooo... the first thing that should be known is that one of my family members is borderline (actually maybe not even borderline, they may have crossed that line but I don’t know) abusive, not physically, but mentally. I’ve been told I’m worthless, ugly, useless, never going to be happy, my whole life. I’m overweight, and always have been. When I was 9 this person tried to convince me to basically not eat anything, and I almost bought their argument until they told me I would never be happy if I was fat. 

When I was little I would write short cute stories, and as far as I remember they weren’t bad, and when I let this person read them, they would always laugh. I thought they were laughing at the stories.       Turns out they were laughing at my spelling mistakes. I found out when I asked them to read my essay for school. They laughed at it. It wasn’t funny. I told them I wanted to be an author when I grew up. They told me I could never be an author because I was to fat. Thats when I stopped worrying about my weight. That statement, that I couldn’t write because I was fat, was just so BS that even I could tell it wasn’t true. 

But the thing is: if someone tells you these things, every few days, for years, you start to wonder if they’re right. Especially if this is an authority figure. I promised myself then that I was going to prove them wrong. I still am working on that promise. I write as much as I want, and I do what makes me happy, and the day after I can consider myself happy is the day I start a diet. Is it physically healthy? No. But as I’ve grown I realized that even before I knew what mental health was, I was putting it first. Its more important to be happy than it is to be happy. 

Anyway thats that part of the basic info. The other part is that in elementary school I had a best friend. We became friends in first grade, and by 4th we were nearly inseparable. Except that apparently she wanted nothing to do with me. I don’t know what happened. She won’t tell me. Did I say something or do something? I still don’t know. All I know is that one day we were fine and the next day on the playground she told me not to talk to her again. 

I don’t know, maybe its just my kind of personality, but that completely destroyed me. Like its one thing if you don’t like me because of something, but to go from being my best friend to nothing with no explanation... I still don’t know what I did, and that still bothers me. Now I’ve guessed that it was probably peer pressure since all the other girls in our class came to me 3 days later and told me they also wanted nothing to do with me. But I didn’t really care about them, they were only my friends because of her, but I do remember sitting on the playground when they told me all of they're little speech and I just remember crying and asking why. I said why so many times. They wouldn’t answer. After that I was left with one guy who also didn’t understand what was going on, and he pretty much saved my life the first time. He made it a goal to make sure I smiled every day. And I did because of him, but I also started into depression and social anxiety.

 About a month after the end of our friendship, this girl comes back and thinks we can go back to being best friends, and I was like Bitch excuse you? But also I couldn’t talk to her. I didn’t know it then, but now its completely obvious. I had anxiety attacks when I tried to talk to her. 2 times I actually blacked out. I don’t think i fainted, but I remember being terrified when one second I was trying to talk to her, and the next thing I know I’m in a completely different place, but I have no memory of what happened, just a sense that time had passed. Its fucking terrifying, especially if you don’t know what’s happening. 

But this girl, she doesn’t give up. We wrote notes back and forth for 2 years. She always insisted that she did want to be friends again and she was sorry for what happened. She never told me why though, and thats most of why it took 2 years. When I finally was able to talk to her again we became pretty close friends again. By then I had made friends with another girl, and the boy I had been friends with kind of headed towards hanging out with other guys. It was middle school, girls had cooties again. This other girl deserves a name because she literally saved me. But since I don’t have her permission, we’ll just call her Ash. Ash, “Her” and I were friends for a while, and it was great. That year I also got invited to a leadership conference in Washington DC for a week (which, side note, I think I had a nightmare that they were trying to sue me over the events that happened that I will now describe, so I’m going to be very careful about not mentioning the name. Don’t sue me, none of this is my fault.) So that spring I got on a plane with my aunt and went to WA DC. The conference thing was great. I got to see lots of places and we went all over and learned lots. The food was not great, so I didn’t really eat. I thought it was ok to skip eating so much since I was overweight. I WAS WRONG DO NOT EVER THINK THAT’S OK YOUR BODY THINKS ITS STARVING AND GOES INTO SURVIVAL MODE AND ACTUALLY WON’T LET YOU LOOSE ANY WEIGHT AND MAKES YOUR BRAIN NOT WORK RIGHT AND SUCH. This was just one of the factors. Another was my roommates. We were assigned rooms in groups of 4 with other kids from around the country. I should mention that this trip was kind of expensive, and I was lucky to raise the money to go, but almost everyone else there was rich. I got roomed with 2 rich... I’m just going to say it. Bitches. Fuck them. I’m getting ahead of myself. The other girl was like eh whatever I’m going to sleep. The 2 girls decided that instead of like just sleeping or whatever, it’d be fun to make my life living hell for the week. Now I’d been bullied at my school. I mean the best example is all the girls from the previous story shunning me. But the thing about my school is that they don’t do the bullying directly to the face. They might whisper behind your back, but they would never say it to your face. These girls were not that kind. They stole my stuff, they wouldn’t leave me alone, they kept watching tv so loud I couldn’t sleep till midnight or 1AM. Thats on top of jet lag. They bullied me into not asking for a room change. Finally on the Thursday of that week, I locked myself in the bathroom with my phone. I was crying and hyperventilating, I couldn’t move but I couldn’t stand to stay still. It was terrible. 

That was the point. We were in a room on the 8th floor. There was a window. I wanted to end it all. I didn’t want to go home. I just wanted to stop existing forever. 

But there was this tiny voice in my head begging me to try to get help. I had 2 friends, The girl and Ash, and Ash was kind of known for not being the most reliable person and little more happy go lucky, not really the kind of person that would help in this kind of a situation. This girl was reliable right? Seriously, what happened before was just so out of character for her, theres no way she would leave me literally on the edge. Right? 

I called her. She answered. I was mid anxiety attack and couldn’t really make words, i was just sort of crying into the phone. She didn’t even listen or ask me if I was ok. She yelled at me for calling her so late at night, and she hung up. I called again. I texted her. I told her I needed to talk to her, I told her what was happening. I told her I wanted to say goodbye. 

I decided to call Ash, just as a last resort. And I will tell you one thing about Ash. She has a slytherin exterior and persona, but on the inside she is a hufflepuff. She is the most loyal friend I’ve ever had, and she was ready to kill whoever hurt me. She let me talk to her mom, and she got grounded for a month for being on her phone at night, but she also didn’t care about those things. She cussed out the girls in my room for me. She stayed on the phone with me till morning to make sure I got the rest of the night to sleep. She made sure I was ok. 

And like I wasn’t. I’m still not that ok. I’m still crying even thinking about it. And the other girl? She still gives me anxiety attacks. I avoid her at all costs. Shes not a bad person, in fact I we have a lot of common interests. There was a reason we were such good friends. Now she works in my bank, and I have to go talk to her sometimes, and I always leave the bank on the verge of an anxiety attack. 

And Ash and I aren’t really friends anymore we kind of went into different branches in high school, but I will always be thankful for her. She always has a place in my heart. 

I want to say more about how all this has effected me but honestly I’m exhausted rn. What happened made me who I am, but I think I’d like to change that bit if I could. Its ok to have regrets. Its ok to have problems. Take care of them. Take care of yourself. You will be ok, even if it doesn’t seem like it now, and it will take time. You won’t be ok next week, or next month, or maybe even next year. Maybe not 10 years from now. But eventually one day you’ll think back and realized that hey, you’re ok. Its ok. And then you can let it go. And thats ok. Everythings ok in the end. I love you. Its late and night. I’m going to sleep now. Seriously, I love you, especially if you think no one else does. I would love to talk to anyone who I can, but tbh find a professional, I’m just a young adult who doesn’t know anything and I tend to mother hen ppl with problems and thats not good for my choice to put my happiness first, and also I don’t consistently get tumblr messages, but there are plenty of free emergency health lines, some even that you can text to, so google one up and get help. Seriously, its worth finding help. Your life is worth it. I promise. 

Sorry for spelling mistakes there are a lot of red squiggly lines but idc rn