summary: your best friend finds the scars. how they feelin?
cw: various stages of cleanliness, self harm, modest levels of angst, toxic relationships, modern au.
note: self harm comfort fanfic is a shriveled and dying medium. i will do my best to revive it. also platonic comfort hell yeah.
wc: 1.8k
includes: Childe, Lisa, Kazuha
Childe
mother fucker. the warning signs had been there as long as he could remember. you, his good friend (understatement, best friend in the entire world), had been struggling with the forbidden jutsu: self harm.
what was he to do in this situation really? how could he approach you about the issue when his method of finding out was so unethical. all he had wanted was to do some snooping. figure out what silly crushes you were having on classmates that he'd never consider good enough and tease the absolute fuck out of you over it.
instead? childe felt nothing but pain. he went through the three stages of grief (laughing, crying, AND throwing up) in a matter of 5 seconds.
he had seen your diary tucked away with the rest of your notebooks a while ago, and when you invited him over to hang out, well you can guess what happened.
or rather you didnt HAVE to guess anything. Coming back from the kitchen with snacks in hand, you almost couldn't believe the sight before you.
a bundle of ruffled orange hair leaning in to a scribbler so deeply it would surprise you if the words were even legible. problem being, it was your personal scribbler. you know, the one that contained ALL of your screwed up secrets and detailed many relapses you didn't even want to think about.
"you can not be fucking SERIOUS right now. invasion of privacy!" you screeched, running over to him and snatching it right out of his hands. well he was serious. absolutely, 100%, without a doubt serious.
the man wasn't even phased by your panic. he just looked at you in complete shock and asked whether or not you were doing all right.
with the face he was making, all you could do was grumble out something along the line of "yeah you dumb idiot if you had just checked the god damn dates-" but your complaints were quickly muffled when the red head tackled you in a hug.
well shit, there go the chips and popcorn you'd been holding during this small ordeal. still, his arms were warm, so you decided to ignore the mess at your feet and enjoy his tight embrace.
"im sorry" childe said after pulling away, internally cursing himself for going overboard. he cleaned the floor, payed you back the approximate 4$ of food he had ruined (though you had insisted to him it was alright), then he scooped you up and carried you down to the kitchen. it was time for fine dining.
the planned movie night had devolved into childe going ham in the kitchen and you sitting on the counter controlling the music.
he had said a few things about being there for you whenever you needed, that he was worried, that he cared about you, all the usual shit you'd heard a million times from movies, ted talks, fanfiction, and even google when you searched something a bit too concerning for them to let you see the results.
as much as you had trouble expressing it, you appreciated childes actions, speeches on your importance and other random shit he did in attempts to cheer you up.
after the meal, the two of you headed up stairs. you taking the bed for yourself while childe slept on a sleeping bag on the floor. he was weirdly insistent about you being comfortable, hell you even slept on the bed at his house. seriously, it wouldn't be a hassle for you to brave the floor for a night, but whatever. he cares about you too damn much.
just when two were finally calming down, he rolled over towards you with a knowing smirk and whispered "really though? scaramouche? that guy is such a tool."
all you could do was sputter. he was on thin ice right now. thin fucking ice.
Lisa:
people overlooked lisa for the sole reason that she was a librarian. they thought she was a boring lady obsessed with books and nothing more, spending all her time getting pissed at people who never returned their things on time.
in reality, only one of those statements were true, and lisa was so much more than you could ever describe. it all started one night when you were studying for your exams.
you and lisa had been the only ones at the library at such an hour, thus leading to an unforgettable meeting. you because you never lived down the embarrassment, and her because you were such an incredible friend and she was happy to have you in her life she loved to joke about it.
studying mental break downs, hot coffee spills and utter idiocy aside, the two of you had become inseperable ever since. lisa would tell you every individual detail about the jean girl she was pining over and eventually you started doing the same. you would experience every movie, concert or documentary with her, even if she never stopped talking during them.
things were going incredible. until a man came into your life and fucked everything up. you thought he would be good for you, god knows your self confidence was lower than a giant isopod in the sea, so the idea of anybody showing interest in you was, in your mind, unheard of.
the relationship was short, but call this fucker a dps because he ruined everything as quickly as he could. he was never polite on your dates, routinely showing up late, eyeing other people and never once offering to pay the bill. it was when he tried to have sex with you though, that things really fell apart.
sure people had seen your scars before, but no one had ever reacted like him. he stared at your naked body in absolute disgust, told you to get dressed, and kicked you out of his apartment.
that's how you ended up on lisa's sofa, a warm fire dancing in the fireplace, a blanket tucking you in, and a hot chocolate she had forced you to drink instead of the copious amounts of alcohol you had planned.
when you finally managed to tell her what happened, lisa was straight up furious. you could SEE her face getting redder and redder, smoke coming out of her ears like an actual cartoon character.
taking a deep breath, she focused on what was more important here: you
"babe" she said quietly. "can i see them". this was your chance at finally being able to wear shorts and t shirts around her. ever the opportunist, you agreed.
pulling back the cloth that hid them, lisa couldn't help but wince at the scars decorating your skin, most white and pink, but some red, brown or purple.
"all colors shapes and sizes" you joked weakly. an A for effort i suppose.
all the girl could do was pull you into a hug, tearing up for a few minutes and whispering how much you meant to her directly into your ear.
WILL read you a bed time story and WILL smooth her hand over your healed scars comfortingly.
believe me when i say she dialed the human scumbag, asked him out on a date the next day, and beat the fuck out of him in the back alley of whatever cafe they were meant to be eating at. lisa takes no shit, she knows your worth and so should you.
Kazuha:
you came to know him from kindergarten, and like children do, fought a lot. good thing is, it only brought the two of you closer. you knew each other like the back of your own hands. thing was, kazuha lost sight of parts of you during highschool.
you, in all your infinite wisdom, were experiencing severe mental pain, and took it out on your body whenever things got out of control.
your family forced you into therapy, and for much of the summer, you attended diligently. it was unfortunate, but you never saw him once.
then university happened. a time of great stress and upheaval. after a bit too much time online, you had developed a sense of humor about your mental issues, even if your "I can be trusted with sharp objects shit" got you weird looks at time.
it was just another day in the life of someone with self harm scars. with it being summer, you wore shorts, t shirts, and whatever else it took to keep you from burning to death. people stared at you as you walked down the halls. you genuinely could not care less. what were they going to do? heal them? reverse your years of teenage suffering? find the cure to depression? i think not.
yeah you were still miserable at times. you felt like you were going to relapse when things got tough, but you were better now. you could handle it.
you saw kazuha again, both of you enrolled in similar medical classes. even after months apart, you two clicked back together right away. it was kind of awkward though with the amount of uh. texture on your legs and arms. it was obvious he wanted to talk about it but wasn't quite sure how to do so.
people you didn't know seeing your scars was no big deal. you didn't care what they thought, for all you could tell, they were NPCs, but kazuha? this was a whole separate issue.
he had been close with you for so long and had done so much for you. you felt like your scars were telling him he wasn't enough. time to lighten the mood a bit. no use in such a depressing conversation on the first day of school.
"i was practing last year" you explain the next time you catch your platinum blonde (how he got it that color was a mystery to you) friend glancing at your forearms. "always wanted to be a surgeon" he looks stunned for a second before laughing lightly and responding "you are ridiculous" with a shake of his head.
good enough. it was almost a relief kazuha didn't make a big deal out of things. the rest of the day continued as usual, walk to class, take notes, read etc. all that boring school stuff, until finally it was time to go back to your dorm.
little did you know, your fellow med school attendee had an evil suprise for you. don't doubt the fact that he would write some "your skin isn't paper, so don't cut it" type poem and slide it under your door.
lucky for you, one of his dude bros told him that, according to his intuition, the note was not the move.
instead he showed up to your dorm around supper time with a basket full of baked goods, tea, flowers and a cute stuffed animal. "damn you went all out. the fuck is the occasion?" you laughed when he entered the room. who kazuha was trying to woo this time was unknown to you, but his over the top gestures never failed to make you giggle.
he shook his head with a smile and shoved the basket into your arms. "look i know you're strong enough to take care of yourself but its hard sometimes. this university shit isn't going to be easy." he pauses to swing a few punches at an invisible target, and hop from foot to foot quickly. "so you better talk to me the second you start feeling sad. I'll get rid of those emotions as soon as they appear".
you almost started sobbing at the doorway. get you a man like kazuha. I know he'd treat you right.
still, you hoped he hadn't spent time watching boxing matches for this breif charade. his impressions were a bit too realistic for comfort.
cw: healed self harm scars. none of these categories handle the issue particularly well. reader has been clean for a few years (wooo).
note: how do you write hcs mine always turn into bulleted scenarios. anyways, not sure how big the yttd and tr fan crossover is, but I hope you enjoy.
summary: how characters from tr and yttd are with an s/o who used to self harm.
wc: 865
is oblivious: souya, takemitchi, ranmaru, chifuyu, kakucho, hayasaka, kai, joe
you always found it weird that your boyfriend was so comfortable around your scars. he didn't treat them any differently than the rest of your body, and tbh you weren't complaining.
still, his complete disinterest in the marks over the course of your long term relationship unnerved you. why didn't he say anything about them? you wore revealing outfits around him at times, so there was no way he had missed them.
when your 5 year anniversary of being clean came around, you were obviously thrilled and decided to invite ur bf out for an expensive supper.
probably asked you what the occasion for such a fancy meal was. when you told him, you were a bit worried of how he would react until he carefully asked what you meant by being clean.
you could only sit there, wondering if your had heard him correctly. no way your boyfriend was actually this, for lack of better words, dumb.
then everything started to make sense. when he had first seen the scars and asked how you had gotten them, you joked around and said they were from your cat. he had shrugged and told you they looked cool, and that had been the end of it.
keyword being joked. apparently the man had been living under a rock for the last ten years and hadn't realized the well... symbolism in your words.
to a normal person, this would have seemed fucked up but the situation was so hilarious that you were having a hard time keeping your laughter inside, almost choking on your spit while the other snobs at the restauraunt glared at you.
after you finally recovered from your giggling fit, you told him the truth. he still didn't fully understand, so he researched the psychology and reasons behind self harm later that night.
he probably went through all 5 stages of greif in a matter of minutes and was all in all, fucking devastated.
the first time you showed him the healed scars, he went full ptv mode, asking you if he could kiss them. you had hesitantly agreed, a bit alarmed that a situation so many had described as well, cringe, was happening in your life. if you enjoy it, he'll take any chance he gets to do it again. if you don't he'll never bring the event up again.
whether he's trying to be romantic or looking for an excuse to kiss you more is unclear, but the extra attention always manages to cheer you up.
the type to be fascinated by your scars. you know the thing where your scars look more pronounced when you stretch or squeeze the skin around them? being as physically affectionate as he was, he ended up doing it to you all the time.
feels kind of bad about it when he considers how they got there, but enjoys playing with your thighs/arms/stomach and body in general too much to stop.
not the type to walk on egg shells with your scars, but if somebody else doesn't give you the respect you deserve? watch out, because he might just kill them.
his protective instincts are set off whenever you hold a particularly sharp object like a knife or fabric scissors but he ignores the feeling. he knew you'd tease him for acting like a mom and roleplaying as one of your parental figures was the last thing he wanted to do
also has them: mikey, kazutora, sanzu, izana, hakkai, shin, alice
when you told him about your scars, he didn't have the usual reaction. no, the man ripped his pants off to reveal some of his (healed ofc, he would never try to trigger you) own.
a reverse comfort moment. you hadn't expected you to be the one consoling him, but here you were. it was the first time he'd shown them to anyone else, and you were honored that he trusted you enough to do so.
eventually starts wearing your oversized shirts around the house, and because you only owned a few (which he practically stole from you), you wore his. if people visited your shared apartment early in the morning, they'd find both of you wearing each others clothes.
it looked pretty fucking stupid, but you and him had grown to reliant on the comfort that sharing a wardrobe brought to quit doing so.
talks about your angsty teenage years become common place. you end up knowing all of each others embarrassing edge lord moments, and it was fun knowing that neither of you would try to force the other into therapy, instead laughing at how wrong everything had went.
it always made you sad to think about everything he went through, but then you'd remember he probably felt the same way about you, and your heart would warm up again.
whenever he was feeling down, tracking you down was at the top of his list. whether it was snuggling, bathing or napping together, he loved you so much he felt like his heart could burst.
definitely used to hate winter, the lack of light and depressing cold making it awful for his mental health, but with you around? the season became an excuse to huddle together much more often than usual.
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