Bloom Into You [discontinued]

5//Imbroglio

"A complicated or difficult situation. An embarrassing situation or a misunderstanding of a complicated or bitter nature between people."

TW// Abuse, depression and thoughts relating to it, suicidal ideation, s/lf h/rm, trauma, and mentions of r/pe

Hi, before y'all start reading I'd like to say sorry fir my inactivity ahdbdisbdis school has been beating my ass but uh,,, I have summer break in like a month so!!!! But, thank yall for understanding :). Also, sorry for any inconsistencies, I'm trying my best but as someone who doesn't specifically suffer from Androphobia I cannot truly surmise how they would feel ^^;.

[edited :)]

"What the fuck!" Atsumu yelled, half of shock and half of rage at the sight of an innocent girl being pummeled with punches by an obviously older woman. Finally reaching the house, the bulky boy gripped the older woman's wrist tightly and stared at her with cold dead eyes; eyes that others only saw when he was serving in volleyball, eyes that truly conveyed his intense emotion. His heart beat clogged his throat as the woman looked back at him with eyes that were also filled with intense emotion, like his; however her emotion was one that anyone would shudder at the thought of. Murderous intent. She wanted to kill the teen sobbing helplessly under her. She, for some reason, hated the girl with every being and fiber of her soul. It was as if she was ready to kill Atsumu and Y/N simply in the heat of the moment. "What the fuck are ya doing? Who the hell are ya?!" He shouted angrily, tightening his hold on her wrist. "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! WHO ARE YOU TO QUESTION HOW I PUNISH MY CHILD?!" The woman was stern in telling Atsumu to piss off and never bother her again, "Yer kid? Are you fucking shitting me?!" Atsumu released his grip on the woman and moved it to her ponytail, painfully yanking it back and forcing the woman to once again stare back at him. "This is not how you fucking treat yer kid!" Atsumu was never one to even think of hurting nor putting his hands on a woman normally, but in this moment he had lost all common sense. The only thing fueling his actions was blinding rage and hatred. He shoved Y/N's mother harshly, causing her to cry out in pain—which he smirked at slightly—and picked up the battered girl whose face was ridden with tears and snot. Quickly holding her over his shoulder and rushing her to his car, he sped off until he reached a park and stalled his car in the lot. She was unable to do anything but to clutch the hem of her skirt and unknowingly hitch it just the slightest bit higher than she intended to, accidentally giving Atsumu prime view of the cuts that littered her (as she would describe them) insanely fat thighs. This did not go unnoticed by Atsumu, who was already closely paying attention to the girl with worry written on his face, which was only worsened when he saw the aforementioned scars and wounds. Self harm and mental illness was not a subject he was familiar with as no one around him suffered from any—at least not to this knowledge—so he had no experience in helping and consoling those who did deal with those issues on a day to day basis.

                         "Hey... Y/N..." He tried start a conversation with her, perhaps to talk about what had just happened, perhaps to console her. But it didn't matter to her, she couldn't hear anything or anyone over her own thoughts screaming loudly over and over again. The words she'd always heard used against her once again came back to haunt her, even after they've stopped being spoken. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." she chanted to herself in between sobs, feeling the air escape her lungs as she hyperventilated. Everything was falling apart and she didn't know how to even begin to calm herself down; everything was once again crashing down, the short term high she had felt for the past few days immediately shattered as she was once again brought back to her reality. A reality full of pain, suffering, and self-destructive behavior. Atsumu stared down at her, worry clear on his face as he thought of anything he could do to help her, he wanted to hug her and tell her it'd be alright but be couldn't. As much as the volleyball player would've liked to reassure her, he knew of her androphobia and he knew he couldn't promise that everything would end up alright because he didn't know. He didn't know her life nor what she had gone through to bring her to this point in life; a point where she had to hurt herself both physically and mentally. "Y/N-Chan... Are you ok—well obviously not but uh—is there anything I can do to help? I don't like seein' ya like this. Yer far too pretty to have yer face this fucked up." He was trying to compliment her, she knew he was, but she just wouldn't bring herself to allow that thought to override the one that leered over your consciousness; her face was fucked up. She was ugly. She is ugly. She has always been ugly.