Various x Reader

005 Clone High//Van Gogh

.Gauze.

Van Gogh x Depressed!Reader

Trigger Warning: Self-harm, brief talk about self-hatred

A/N: So I uh did a no-no and relapsed a few days ago after 15 days of being clean (which, I'm mildly upset about but not too much; I'm alright now too btw) and started writing this to calm myself down. I was debating if I should post this, (mainly because this is really just a vent for me) but eventually decided to finish and publish it so yeah, here you go.

Word Count: 2188

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You had tried everything you could to distract yourself -- to stop yourself -- but in the end it was all for nothing. You quietly sobbed as you felt the blood seep into your shirt when you wrapped your arms around your torso, bruises already starting to form on your upper arm where you had bitten them. Your nails dug into your sides as you held yourself tighter.

"This has to stop." You thought as you slowly let go for yourself and sat up in your bed, not caring at the fact that you were getting blood on your sheets, "This has to stop. I can't keep doing this."

You carefully stood up, making sure not to fall down from lightheadedness, and made your way over to your bathroom. You turned on the shower and stripped down while waiting for the shower to heat up. Once hot enough, you slipped into the shower and started cleaning yourself off.

It hurt, it fucking burned, when the water ran over your cuts. You had to hold back a scream as the blood was dragged down the drain by the water. You grabbed the body soap and began cleaning your chest of your blood, trying your best not to get it on cuts. You didn't bother washing your hair.

When you were done, you turned the water off and dried yourself off, not looking at yourself once in the mirror. You dropped the towel on the floor and walked out of the bathroom to your dresser. You sluggishly clothed yourself before looking for your first aid kit.

Normally you wouldn't bother with covering them, opting to just cover them with a sweatshirt, but you had begun to do so after Van Gogh had talked to you about it. He was so understanding about it too; he knew that sometimes it was just too hard to stop, but had asked that you at least take care of yourself afterwards.

You grabbed the bottle or rubbing alcohol and cotton balls, saturated the cotton with the alcohol and got to work. If you thought the water burned, you hissed as the alcohol hit your arms, feeling as if they were on fire. It took a while since you would constantly stop to calm yourself down but when you were finished disinfecting them you grabbed the gauze pads and gauze itself before covering them, tightening and securing them with self-adhering tape. You patted your bandaged arms before pulling a sweatshirt over your head and lying down.

You only laid there for a few minutes before you slowly stood up and put your shoes on, stopping only to look at the time.

'11:46pm' it read.

Did you really want to bother him this late? You hesitated before opening the door and making your way to his dorm. You knew he wanted you to be with him when you got like this.

You stopped at his door, hesitantly knocking. He answered only a moment later, clearly still awake.

"Oh, Y/N," He whispered surprised, "What are you..." He started to ask before stopping himself as he took in your form. Your hair was a mess, sticking up at odd angles and still damp in some places, and your clothes weren't in much better shape. He also noted the sweatshirt you were wearing, the one you'd mainly wear after you...

"Did you...?" He asked trailing off while taking your hand and leading you inside.

"Yeah." You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. You closed the door behind you. Van Gogh let go of your hand, leaving you standing in the front of the door, and walked over to his mini fridge.