#the trauma fic verse

[lover-of-mine]

for everything we are (everything we’ve been)

Pairing: Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz (911)

Word Count: 9.5k

""Eddie," Buck breathes, almost a sigh as he drops his head, and Eddie can tell he's ready to drop it even if he wants to talk about it because he'll follow him. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, leaning closer to Buck, and he glances at him, "I have nowhere else to be, and I know you were just following my lead with this, we can talk about it all if you want," Eddie offers, trying to show him how serious he is about it but Buck just looks skeptical. "I don't know, man," Buck shakes his head, picking at the label of his beer, clearly wanting to say something but not knowing if it's his place to say it. "So here's what we're gonna do, the shit we've been through that you keep telling yourself didn't happen to you so you have no right to feel anything about it? You're gonna tell me how you felt about it anyway," Eddie says, turning on his chair so he's facing Buck fully and watching as Buck mirrors his movement, places his beer on the counter, and rubs his thighs before speaking." or the entity I've been affectionately calling "the trauma fic <3"

read it on AO3

#911 fic #911 fanfic #buddie #buddie fanfic #writing #otp: you don't need to pretend with me #the trauma fic 🫶 #i still have no idea how tag fics #sokaoskaoskoaskoa #anyway shes here #im gonna go do the rewatch set now #the trauma fic verse #911fics

[livwritesstuff]

only context needed -> it's 2001, steve and eddie are established foster parents, and they just had a newborn baby dropped off on their doorstep enjoy :)

Eddie appears behind Steve only a moment after an unnamed social worker passes off to him a newborn baby and disappears.

“Oh…shit,” he says, “That…yeah, that’s a baby. Was that…”

“Not our caseworker. Couldn’t make it, I guess.”

“Huh,” Ed replies, scratching the back of his neck, “Yeah, this never gets old. Well…she’s here, I guess...dibs on going shopping.”

“Fine by me,” Steve replies, adjusting the way he’s holding the tiny baby as he begins to make his way back down the hallway, “You can install the car seat while you’re at it.”

“Oh come on, Stevie.”

“I’ll text you a list.”

Eventually Ed does leave, and he begrudgingly takes the car seat with him (sucker, Steve thinks as he watches him go, because that thing is a bitch to install but he totally would have done it if Ed asked nice enough, but he’d do anything for Ed if he asked nice enough). The baby is asleep, and he’d like her to stay that way for as long as possible, so he unfolds the portable crib he’d dug out of the hall closet and then gets back to cooking dinner.

Steve is wrapping up the final steps of the paella recipe when the baby begins to cry. He hopes it’s not a hungry-cry or a diaper-cry, because he can’t exactly help her with any of those things until Ed gets back, but it turns out to be a woke up and didn’t know where she was -cry (or maybe it’s a was in the goddamn womb forty-eight hours ago and now doesn’t know what the fuck is going on -cry; Steve doesn’t blame her either way), because as soon as he’s got her cradled in his arms again, she calms down. He finishes cooking one-handed, and just as he’s plating up dinner, the door to their apartment opens.

Eddie walks into the kitchen, and Steve looks up just in time to watch his jaw slacken as his eyes fall on the way he’s holding the little baby.

“So how’d it go?” Steve asks nonchalantly.

“Jesus Christ, Steve.”

“What?”

“God, dad really is your final form.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, though he can’t quite manage to quell the hint of a smirk on his lips before he turns back towards the stove.

“You know precisely what that means,” Ed replies tiredly.

“How did the shopping go?” Steve repeats, because Ed’s ability to productively shop by himself has been a bit of a toss-up ever since he started having a serious amount of disposable income.

Much to Steve’s immediate concern, Ed begins to bring bag after bag after bag in from the hallway.

“It went excellent, I’ll have you know. We’re gonna need a whole-ass shed for all the diapers, and she’s got clothes for the next hundred years.”

“That’s great,” he replies, replacing the baby in the crib, “She’ll be this size for the next forty-five minutes. Formula?”

“Done. Did you know that baby socks are so fuckin’ tiny, Steve?”

Steve looks at him for a long time.

“Is this your way of telling me you bought a lot of baby socks?”

Ed doesn’t immediately answer.

“Ed.”

“Yes — dinner ready? I’m starving.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he turns away — purely to hide the smile he can’t force down, because there’s something so goddamn cute about Ed getting excited about buying baby clothes (but for the sake of their bank account, he can’t let him know he feels that way).

“Dinner’s ready, go sit down.”

And because he can’t help it, he asks —

“So the dad thing does it for you?”“Steve, the dad thing did it for me when you were dad to our fifteen year old friends. Of course it’s gonna do it for me with a newborn fuckin’ baby. Jesus H. Christ.”

mildly edited excerpt from ch 1 of plant a seed (we'll watch it grow)

#subtle dilf-steve bc I couldn't help myself #<- ripped straight from the ao3 tags #this fic could also have been titled: healing from childhood trauma #that's what fandom is for yes? #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie dads #liv’s steddie dads verse

[motleyfam]

So, in the fic where Tim gets his appendix out, Jason tells him that he usually freaks out before he gets put under, not after. Now that Tim knows, how would he comfort Jason? I'm thinking, like, imagine that Jason breaks his leg badly on patrol, so urgent surgery is in order. Would Tim try to prevent him from freaking out? How?

P.s. i said i a thousand rimes bur I love your works!! You're amazing!!

Ooh so I've actually answered a similar question pretty recently (although that was focused more on the needle aspect than the anesthesia/loss of control aspect which I headcanon to be Jason's main issue with being put under)

Honestly? I think Tim would be the worst family member to try to comfort Jason through something like this. Not for anything that Tim is doing right or wrong, just because anesthesia is something that really freaks Jason out, and his response to being freaked out is a) to angry cry, and b) to lash out at people. Because he knows this about himself, and he's also extremely protective of Tim, he tries not to let Tim see him when he's not fully in control of himself. So while Jason would totally be great in a crisis involving Tim, he does terribly when the roles are reversed.

BUT that being said, if Tim was the only one available, I think Tim would end up offering his hand to squeeze, and Jason would hesitate at first but eventually take it. He'd probably also be trying really hard not to cry, which Tim would very intentionally act as through he wasn't noticing because at the end of the day, Jason needs his dignity more than anything.

#settle our bones #might not really be the answer you were hoping for but i think jason gets suuuper cagey when he's feeling vulnerable #and nothing makes him feel vulnerable more than when his inhibitions are being forcibly removed from him #and he loses all agency #like while being put under #Dick in this series has a LOT of practice brushing things off #and meeting Jason where he's at #but Tim isn't nearly as well versed in it so it trips him up a lot more #but he's also growing and learning and making progress the more time he spends with the Waynes #so while in the 'everybody gets the hell flu' fic he was suuuper wigged out by Jason's trauma responses #he gets less and less so as time goes on and he starts to understand his family more #even in the migraine fic i just posted recently he feels comfortable enough to argue with Jason while they're both in a stressful situation #which i see as progress for him #anyway thank you so much for your kind words and I really appreciate the question!!

[burythel1ght]

one thing that really fucks me up about what happens to gwen’s peter is the fact that, unlike what happened with uncle ben and uncle aaron, gwen is directly responsible for his death. 

uncle ben’s death was a result of peter’s selfishness and inaction, that’s what makes “with great power comes great responsibility” such a hard-hitting and memorable line. and uncle aaron’s death (in itsv) had virtually nothing to do with miles’ actions specifically.

but earth-65 peter is different. peter took the lizard serum because he idolized gwen and wanted to be like her. and gwen, as spider-woman, fought and killed him, basically with her own hands. of course, she wouldn’t have done it if she knew, but she still did it. can you imagine the guilt that comes with that?? like how would it feel to go to his funeral burdened with the knowledge that she was responsible for this. to face may and ben knowing that their nephew’s death was her fault. to share a home with her police captain father who is constantly, unknowingly calling her a murderer and know that he’s actually right.

#reminder that she was also like 13 when this happened #someone pls give this girl a hug #gwen stacy #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #peter parker #and the fact that this trauma goes relatively unexplored makes it all the more interesting to me #i'm actually so close to writing a fic exploring this...like the idea is in my head now.

[amoneki-ramblings]

do you think Kaneki might ever pray with Amon despite not being catholic himself? just sitting next to him mumbling the words as Amon says it because he likes to be with him

speaking of religion, what kind of faith do you think Kaneki would follow? I hc him as an atheist :) but I think you know more about religions than me lol

Ooooh I like that idea a lot actually I have So Many Thoughts (rubs my hands together evilly)

also this is just a sidenote but i know some people may be uncomfortable with religious discussion, so if you are lmk and i'll start tagging it :thumbsup:

I feel like Amon hasn't prayed often in a while because of his past, but he may still on occasion (habit), and may get back into it properly after actually resolving his feelings with the past. At some point Kaneki starts to join him. He doesn't really know How to pray, especially since a lot of it is in silence, he probably just kneels there and silently wishes for safety for his friends, for strength and resolve, etc. etc. But when Amon starts saying the actual prayers out loud he just sits there and listens to him quietly saying them.

At some point Kaneki might start mumbling along with them, he vaguely knows some of the prayers and has heard Amon say them enough times to kind of know them. Amon is surprised when Kaneki starts doing that and it just kind of becomes a Thing; maybe Kaneki even asks Amon to tell him how to pray the rosary since he sees him doing that often as well (when the rosary is prayed in a group there's one person leading that says the first half of most of the prayers and the rest say the other half, and I think it would be interesting with them alternating like that)

While Kaneki isn't catholic himself he finds it reassuring, while it's unlikely to him that there's someone out there that'll actually grant his prayers it's a nice thought, y'know? It's also just very relaxing there, even if it was kind of awkward at first

I think he also finds the sound of Amon praying very relaxing *cough*

I also think Kaneki would be atheist, while he wouldn't completely deny the possibility of there being a god of some sort he also isn't really a follower of any particular belief system (note: ive actually been informed that there is a better term for this, agnostic, which is essentially being neutral lol). I think Amon would know this, and therefore doesn't really know why Kaneki chooses to pray with him despite this, but he figures that Kaneki does have a lot of things he would want to pray for, things he would want to seek forgiveness for, too, and he appreciates that Kaneki is willing to spend time with him like this anyway.

#asks #shewhoeatssand #tokyo ghoul #tg #amoneki #amoneki ramblings #amon koutarou #kaneki ken #Ive never posted a single one of my amoneki fics cuz they're all. incomplete but GOD do i love implementing bible references/verses in them #i end up with like paragraphs of notes listing them in detail because i am. pretentious #i one time looked at a bible verse and thought 'holy shit that's so Amon' and went on a whole mental rant about why it just fits him so Wel #i think i'm normal about this :) (<- not norma #GH. ALSO. EMPTY PRAYER BY NULUT AND 'THERE MUST BE NO MEANING TO MY LIFE' BY TATSUYA KITANI ARE SUCH AMON SONGS #the latter especially the feeling of being abandoned by god and questioning why you're still alive because. trauma. hrngh. #i should go into an unhinged rant about amoneki and lower ones eyes someday the song is speculated to be based off of a work by dazai osamu #about judas n jesus. so it gets my Bias Bonus but also the song is so amoneki. empty prayer is too they're very amoneki for the same reason #i just scrolled up and realized i'm leaving half the post in the tags i'm so embarrassed #I TOLD MYSELF I WOULDN'T WRITE A SUPER LONG RESPONSE AND UMM OOPS #OH YEA UNRELATED BUT ALSO !! you said you wanted to hear my analysis about amon/kaneki's childhood traumas and their parents n stuff #I'll get to it soon ! i am still compiling my thoughts but i am Cooking i swear #thank you for the ask !!

[fortune-maiden]

Random TGCF AU of the day:

Space-time shenanigans result in main canon He Xuan wandering into an AU where the fate swap didn’t happen.

He ascends as a civil god, and is doing quite well for himself, only his presence has unexpected ramifications for a few people

SWD can no longer save his brother via fate swap. He is not giving up obviously and will find another way no matter who he has to screw over (though HX would really really like it if he didn’t screw someone else over thank you very much), but in the meantime he is very much devoted to keeping his little brother safe and under control.

A necessity probably given that this little brother is an anxious mess afraid of his own shadow, with only shades of the bright determined Shi Qingxuan of the main timeline. He’s got all the comfort and wealth he could ever need and zero sense of confidence or independence.

Also different is the new civil god Ling Wen. She’s closed off and unpopular and may or may not be responsible for some sabotage He Xuan keeps encountering. Oh well it’s nothing to worry about. With dwindling followers she’s well on her way out anyway…

#(SWD is the cicada HX is the mantis and LW is the oriole he is not paying attention to) #Pei Ming is here somewhere too! #tgcf #he Xuan #Shi Qingxuan #Shi Wudu #Ling Wen #random tgcf thoughts #I once had an idea where sqx went back in time to a pre date swap verse #but there were a lot of problems with that to work out #anyway the main problem here is is this a pre or post revenge hx #because those are two very different hx to explore xD #also need to think about how to treat hx’s family in this scenario #there is one great Russian fic I read where hx learns that the tragedies in his life were not actually because of the fate swap #but I feel that goes against the whole point of his revenge #but at the same time I don’t like the idea of hx’s life being all good and happy if the fate swap didn’t happen #he was meant to ascend which means he was meant to face trials in life #(points at every other god with various traumas in their life and no roew to blame it on) #but also I don’t want to hurt them because the first thing hx would do in this AU is go see his family because he loves them & misses them! #I just want a HX in a lotus water machine scenario and dealing with a much weaker terrified sqx #who is completely codependent on swd in this verse #which hx finds extremely annoying #and decides to make sqx fix his RoEW problem on his own instead of dragging others into it #(hx proceeds to drag others into it) #swd meanwhile hates him but also recognizes that he’s not the worst person for sqx to be around #(at least as long as sqx is still dependent on him just a little less scared) #(it’s not going to stop him from helping ling wen plot murder if she asks nicely but progress?)

[ontinetine]

a moment away

a Malachi-verse minific from Ivan's POV, set when Malachi's a cabin boy. Originally posted on twitter.

cw for discussion of birth trauma

--

While the other cabin boys are oohing and ahhing over the real blade Izzy got Malachi for his birthday, Izzy slips away, down below deck. Ivan follows him.

He's taller than Izzy now, has been for a while. Still, the height difference startles Izzy when Ivan catches up with him in the hold. Izzy's not even pretending to sort through their stores. He's just standing there, breathing hard, eyes overbright.

They don't talk about the day Malachi was born. Never, ever. Doesn't mean Ivan doesn't think about it, though. He'd thought he was so grown, but looking back, he was just a fucking kid at 14. Just a fucking kid with Izzy and Mal's lives in his hands.

Just a kid with Izzy's blood staining his fingers every time he checked to see if the babe was coming. 14 years old, not letting himself cry but begging for his mamī in his head because she would have known how to guide the baby out.

She would have known what to do when Malachi came out grey and limp - Izzy gave Malachi his breath, and somehow, that miracle boy lived. Ivan cried like a child in Fang's arms afterward. Because he was a child.

Ivan realizes this now more than ever as Malachi creeps up on the age Ivan was when he was born. Malachi sprouted recently, is drawing close to Izzy's height. He's gangly and awkward. He still sleeps with his silk lovey.

Malachi would deliver someone's baby if he had to. But Ivan wouldn't want him to.

They never talk about that day, but Ivan knows Izzy's memories of it drove him to hide just now.

"You got Mal a wicked good sword, boss," Ivan says quietly. Izzy nods, throat bobbing. Ivan hesitates. Fang would hug Izzy, but that seems too close to acknowledging bad memories.

The door to the deck creaks open. "Ivan?" Malachi calls. "Is Da down there? He said he'd spar with me."

Izzy holds up a finger. One minute, he mouths.

Ivan nods. "He's gotta finish some shit down here," he yells to Mal. "Said I could do warm-ups with you though."

"Alright," Mal says, delighted.

Just this once, Ivan squeezes Izzy's shoulders. To his surprise, Izzy gently bumps their foreheads together before he lets go.

#they speak #fanfiction #my fanfiction #ofmd #izzy hands #trans dad izzy hands #the malachi verse #ivan ofmd #kid fic #cw birth trauma

[ejunkiet]

long nights, dark days (milo/sh)

taking a little trip back into the imperium again...

redacted audio: milo/sweetheart, rated teen. mentions of panic attacks!

READ ON AO3

A shifter meets with a stealth enforcer in the woods.

Milo/Sweetheart, Imperium edition.

--

“Hey, hey- sweetheart?” They’re breathing too fast yet too shallow, but they cannot think, the panic overwhelming them, and shit fuck fuck- “Come here, you’re okay, breathe.”

-

long nights, dark days.

“You’re far from home, enforcer.”

The title pricks at them, even with the Imperial Emblem stitched into their collar. They are an investigator in truth, but that doesn’t change their official title, as much as it chafes.

He melts out of the shadows like a ghost, human for now, although they can still sense his magic in the air, taste the sharpness of it on their tongue. “Milo. I was hoping to run into you.”

“Keeping tabs on us wolves?”

“Just one in particular.”

He lets out a snort, a corner of his sharp mouth lifting into a smirk. He’s handsome in this light, with the rugged cut of his jaw, his messy curls swept back from his face so he can catch their eye. They catch a glimmer of yellow in his gaze as he steps further into the light, a fading reminder of the wolf he was a few moments ago before he’d shifted back to human.

It gives him a feral edge, reminding them that his kind isn’t human - not fully, anyway. Not by the standards of the Imperium, at least. But they’ve never taken much stock in what the Imperium believed, anyway.

A high-pitched howl sounds in the distance, piercing the stillness of the night. He tilts his head, his gaze going distant for a moment, and they feel the flicker of his magic against their aura.

“Do you have to go?”

He blinks, refocusing on them, before he shakes his head. “Nah. Let’s talk.”

He nods towards a path, and they start walking.

They’ve been meeting like this for the last six months, under the cover of darkness in a distant corner of Shaw Pack territory. It’s an information exchange, focused on keeping tabs on the free-roaming vampires in the region, beneficial to both groups. It’s unsanctioned, of course. If the department knew… they don’t want to think about that. But his pack knows. Milo had made it clear early on that he’d be talking to his alpha, and the fact that he's still here meant that the conversation had gone well.

From what he’s said about him, his alpha was a good one. They’re glad. They’ve heard the stories from the other packs, and they knew that wasn't often the case. Life under the thumb of the Imperium didn’t leave much room for kindness.

“You’re quieter than usual. Something on your mind?”

The question is posed casually enough, but they can read the tension in his shoulders, the sharp way his eyes trace over the woods around them, as if he almost expects an ambush. His lack of faith in their truce doesn’t bother them; if they’re being completely honest, they don’t entirely trust him either.

“I’ve had a - day. It doesn’t matter.”

His brow raises, and his dark eyes flick back to theirs. “Considering your line of work, that’s gotta be an understatement.”

He’s closer to the truth than he knows. Then again, he’s gotten enough hints about how the department operates over the last few months; seen the effect it has on them.

(He'd found them on a particularly bad night, curled up in a corner of their apartment, cloaked and unable to breathe, unable to think. He hadn't asked, hadn't done anything more than talk them through it, his voice a low murmur, his hand twitching as his dark eyes kept flickering to where they were - they never learned why he was there, or how he'd found them, and he hadn't told them.

But that moment after, when they shuddered back into visibility and he'd asked to hold them in his arms… the warmth of his embrace and the strong earthy smell of him still lingers in their memory, almost like a dream.)

"S'not like you find every day working with your pack rosy either, Milo.” He snorts, conceding the point. Before he can think of a way to approach the topic again, they change the subject. “What’s that like, anyway? Being part of a pack?”

He glances at them sidelong. “Why d’you wanna know?”

The question gives them pause for a moment. They just… wanted to get to know him. It was as simple and dangerously complicated as that. “Humour me.”

He holds their gaze for a long moment, his eyes dark. They shift on their feet, ready to turn back, when he finally breaks the silence that’s fallen between them, his eyes on the path in front of them.

“There’s not much to say.” His voice is low as he says it, a furrow in his brow. “It’s hard to understand, if you weren’t born in it. It’s like a family. You’re never alone.”

Alone. The words send a shiver down their back. They’re familiar with loneliness. Painfully familiar.

It takes them a moment to realise that they’ve stopped walking, and that’s only because he has stopped too. He’s watching them, his head cocked, those dark eyes on theirs, so damn perceptive. When was the last time someone looked at them like this? Really looked?

“You got anybody else?” His voice is softer, almost gentle, his eyes unreadable as they shake their head, avoiding his gaze. “No family? Friends outside of work?”

They swallow hard, but tilt their chin up, holding his gaze. “No. Not in a longtime.”

It’s not as if he didn’t know that. He’s been keeping tabs on them too - it’s how he’d found their apartment, and honestly, just seeing that was evidence enough. It was a lonely place, built for one.

But he doesn’t seem to be thinking about that. There’s a light in his eyes that they don’t quite recognise, a gentleness there. “...I’ve lost people too, you know.”

They know. They can tell, they always have. It’s something about the way he holds himself, the defensiveness. The way he looks out for his family, his pack.

But they’ve never had anyone else to look out for. They lost them all, in those early days. Just another orphan, one lucky - or unlucky - enough to be taken under the wing of the Imperium regime.

Their chest feels - tight. They’re struggling to find the air to breathe, and shit, not again, not now-

“Hey, hey-” They’re breathing too fast yet too shallow, but they cannot think, the panic overwhelming them, and shit fuck fuck- “Come here, you’re okay, breathe.”

They’re pulled into a tight embrace, their senses filled with the warmth of him, the heat of his body against theirs. He’s left himself open to do this, his hands tight at their back, holding them to him, and the pressure grounds them, anchoring them to the present.

The panic fades, slowly. They take one breath, then another, feeling the dizziness ease, and as it does, they can hear his voice, a low, rough-cut whisper - that’s it, I’ve got you, sweetheart.

Sweetheart. It’s not the first time he’s said it, but there’s something different about it this time. It’s in the way he says it, softer, almost like an endearment, and they realise that he means it.

It’s a dangerous thought. Their alliances aren’t diametrically opposed, but if the imperial regime were to find out… It’d be cause enough for their title to be stripped, if they were lucky. If they weren’t, a case could be brought forward to an official military tribunal, and they don’t want to think about what comes after that.

But still, he’s so close. They can’t mask the effect he has on them, heat rising in the places he touches them, their heart beating at a rapid pace inside their chest.

Their fingers twist into the rough material of his sweater, drawing back until they can catch his gaze – and he’s looking at them, his dark eyes ringed with gold, and he knows.

“We can’t.” Their voice is hushed, breathless. The forest around them is quiet, too quiet. The panic is still close to the surface, and they feel stretched thin, as if they could fall apart at any moment.

“I know.” But he doesn’t let them go, and they don’t ask him to.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #ej writes redacted #writing #imperium verse #redacted milo #redacted sweetheart #milo/sweetheart #i love them your honour #this dialogue was cut from another fic #and it just worked for these two #sh sweetie you get all introspective trauma of loneliness from the imperium okay

[10holmes]

Have I just made myself cry writing this new JiuLiu A/B/O fic? Possibly.

Am I now giggling like a maniac because evil author miasma was released? Maybe.

Oh this will be glorious!

Actually started this fic for smut (and #knotinmyname) reasons and now it's turned into an angsty ciritcal exploration of the A/B/O verse as a metaphor for the patriarchy, I just know no chill 🤣

#liujiu #a/b/o verse #angsty fic to come #or should I say cum? #there will be some #but not as much as there probably should be for something that was supposed to be pure smut #I really know no chill #at the slightest possibility of angst I go full on out #why am I like this? #unresolved trauma I guess #Anyway #prepare the tissues #I plan this fic to hit A03 next week

[crimeronan]

still thinking about a horror-tragedy AU where hunter kills belos and frames luz or eda for it. i was Gonna say that my best hope of making this work is in a non-hollow-mind timeline, but Actually i think my best hope of making this work is.... if hollow mind DID happen.... but hunter promised belos his loyalty anyway, in a fit of panic. and belos didn't kill him. and brought him back to the castle

hunter managing to kill belos in his desperation after finding out exactly what's going to happen on the day of unity, belos having his guard down because if hunter promised his loyalty despite knowing what happened to the golden guards, then surely the complete eradication of witchkind would be fine, right.

hunter realizing that killing belos is a death sentence for himself AND will mean politically fracturing the isles, so he finds a way to twist it around on luz or eda. how this works would depend on a bunch of logistical questions i don't feel like answering right now, but. oh god if it was luz. how fucking Wretched that would feel after hollow mind. hunter's like hey i know i stabbed you in the back and chose your worst enemy over you when you were nothing but kind to me always, anyway now i'm about to make your life So Much Worse for no fucking reason except my own fear and selfishness because i'm a coward i've always been a coward and i ruin everything i touch. um. BAIIII

i have. no idea how to resolve this. i'm just.

i'm Thinking About It.

#in other news. if shit like this compels u then listen to the silt verses. What A Time You Will Have #posts directly inspired by certain events that transpire in that narrative #toh #hunter toh #horrible mindscape trauma pals #i have permission from an artist mutual to write a fic based on a comic it did where hunter doesn't defect at the end of hollow mind... #this would be. certainly something to add to it #like i wanna write fic so bad. sorry that everything i want to fic lately is godawful. do you still think im hot #murder ig #violence ig

[goldeneyedgirl]

Oh boy, this is probably so irrelevant to you, but I've read the little piece you made for Babyverse about Jasper having to leave Alice and their son to go hunt and I swear I wept, thinking that's exactly how my baby brother gets everytime I leave. Literally the cutest AU ever made!!! Also, I have a weak spot for Damage Alice. May I ask for some of any of these two masterpieces?

This is absolutely not irrelevant - I'm not around small children, so I am relying entirely luck and vague memories to make any depiction of Ollie convincing, and I am SO glad that I am on the right track!

You caught me in a weak moment, so have a little of both <3

babyverse.

It’s been six fucking weeks since he’s seen them, and he’s trying to convince himself that this is another false lead, another dead-end, even as he presses his foot further on the accelerator. 

He knows the old motel he’s going to - it’s been abandoned for decades, with a cracked sign caked in filth declaring it the Rose Spring. It’s a thrice condemned shit-hole, untouched because of alleged chemical leaks or something that the government don’t want to have to clean up to sell the land off. It’s irrelevant though; the Rose Spring, like all the other falling-down, forgotten motels across the country, is a regular haunt for vampires looking to avoid the sun, to meet other travellers, to pass messages back and forth. 

He pulls into the motel, barely shutting off the ignition as he gets out. The back is laden with supplies, and he pauses only long enough to grab the bag that Esme has labelled with a big red cross. 

The stairs are flimsy and buckle under his step - no place for a human. Half the balcony has collapsed, and at least two of the rooms have crumbled in on themselves - probably in the last storm. 

Room 37 is tucked in the corner, and he doesn’t bother to knock as he throws open the door. 

Ollie is sitting on the first rancid, rotting bed and his face lights up as he sees Jasper, his arms stretching out towards him. He’s wearing filthy, mismatched clothing that aren’t his, and is sucking on a pacifier again, and for some reason that’s more upsetting than anything else to Jasper - he was just beginning to give it up before everything happened. And now it’s back. 

Maria is seated on the bed with Ollie, looking equally as filthy and surprisingly solemn. 

“You made it faster than I anticipated,” she says, standing up and motioning to Ollie as the bed tilts slightly without her weight. “He’ll be hungry, but he’s unharmed.”

Ollie makes a whining noise as soon as he’s in Jasper’s arms; a reassuring weight, but Ollie is about to start crying. 

“Where’s Alice?” He demands, rubbing his son’s back and hoping they can get out of here, and back north tonight; somewhere they can clean up and talk and he can make sure that they’re okay. 

Maria looks grimmer and motions for him to follow her out the door and into the next room. 

Ollie gets agitated, straining towards Alice the second they set foot in the second room. 

The scent of blood saturates the air.

Alice is lying on the bed, unconscious. There’s an angry wound on her head, and bother her arms. Some rough bandages have been wrapped around her leg, and it’s obvious that someone - perhaps Maria - tried to clean her up. 

“Alice?” His alarm is evident in his voice, and he almost hands Ollie off to Maria to go to her side before his brain clicks back into place. “Alice, can you hear me?”

Ollie’s reaching more and his whimpers are turning to wails as Alice doesn’t flinch.

“For god’s sake, give me the child, and deal with your mate,” Maria says, almost crossing. “I didn’t eat him before, I’m not going to eat him now.”

damaged alice.

The race to the ballet studio is the longest journey of his life.

Alice can’t defend herself. She’s never fought in her life. When Maria came to Calgary, Alice had been carefully protected by Esme and Emmett. 

He’s never run faster in his life. 

The scene that he finds in the ballet studio is one that fills him with anger and terror, and his first instinct is to get Alice out. 

Not Bella bleeding out on the floor and screaming (oh god, he knows that scream) with an extremely broken leg. 

Or to destroy James, with his joker-smile.

Alice is standing over Bella, blood on her face and dress and hands, and she’s getting upset about it, a thin cry coming out of her mouth as she stares down at her maybe-future-best-friend’s blood smelling so tempting…

But when James laughingly steps forward towards Bella, Alice growls protectively. 

He swoops in, barely pausing as he grabs Alice and gets her out of James’ reach, smoothing her hair as he tries to look her in the eyes; but Alice’s eyes dart, never meeting his. Not a surprise that today would become a bad one, that Alice can’t communicate right now. 

(James was alone with her for too long; he hates himself for that. He’s terrified she’s been hurt in some way, that the damage is worse than being slathered in her maybe-friend’s blood. )

“Are you okay?” 

As soon as the words are out, James slams into him from nowhere, and he can’t worry about Alice or Bella in that moment. 

But all he can hear are Alice’s soft cries from where she’s standing in the corner. 

#my fic: damaged alice #my fic: hybrid baby-verse #babyverse alice will recover #damaged alice has a little more trauma first #didn't mean for both of these to be jasper-rescue snippets #maria is a bamf #and she's not going to kill jasper's 'wife' and kid #that's beyond tacky and completely inefficient and just not necessary #why harm them when helping them might get you a Future Favour? #i'll put a post up last but i'm not doing any more snippets for a hot minute so that I can get on top of ficmas and all my wips #i'll go through the existing ones that I've got in my ask box #but anything else will be politely set aside until I've got the priority stuff done

[lover-of-mine]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday!

I was tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @daffi-990 @wikiangela @try-set-me-on-fire @steadfastsaturnsrings thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I think the Eddie begins missing scene fic is almost at a point where I can stop writing it, but, to be honest, I don't know because they refuse to do what I want, so I'm just typing things out and hoping this thing is gonna end before I end up writing Eddie showing up at his lawyer's office lol I am having a few moments where I'm like "is this too much for the point in time they are?" but then I remember Eddie gave Buck Christopher after this and Buck was clawing at the mud trying to reach Eddie while screaming his name and I am making the executive decision that even if it is, it just means they won't talk about it, and they really don't talk about it so it's fine lol anyway, have a little bit of Eddie's disconnected thoughts after he made Buck get in the bed with him (I'm trying my hardest not to let Eddie think the word love so I keep having to backtrack his train of thought lol) prev snippet.

"It's okay, it's okay," Buck says, adjusting around in the bed for a few seconds, before turning to his side, tugging lightly on Eddie's arm, and he blindly moves again, chasing the warmth of Buck's chest. He half expected to panic, this isn't something they do, but he's too comfortable to worry. Besides, it's Buck.  Everything about him is familiar. Even if this is something they have never done before. It's just warm.  Buck is warmth. But it's not only heat.  This is… safe? Eddie doesn't know.  And he doesn't have the energy to find out. Or the presence of mind.  He's just letting the feeling wash over him as he drifts off.

No pressure tagging 🩷: @eddiebabygirldiaz @bucks118 @honestlyeddie @watchyourbuck @housewifebuck @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life and anyone else that feels like it!!

#the trauma fic verse #writing #911 wip #buddie wip #seven sentence sunday #i mean #the canon of the trauma fic is that eddie is aware of something he cant name since the well #i think im doing a good job at that but i don't know #anyway #eddie is gonna wake up to buck getting chris ready and then he's gonna realize he needs to talk to his lawyer and hopefully the fic will en #but who knows? #definitely not me #eddie does what he wants im just a vessel trying to get him to follow a script he doesn't really feel like following lol

[charlottedabookworm]

watching good place edits on youtube and somehow my brain wanted to write this? no i don't understand it either

anyway have the aftermath of idk otto cornering helaena with his schemes and threats to bring her back in line in the and i didn't like the ending verse

italic convo is in high valyrian. valonqar is younger brother, hāedar is younger sister

“Aegon! Aegon!”

He turns, his hands still resting on the shoulders of his young nephew as he guides Jace into the correct stance, to find his brother, gasping and red-faced. “Aemond?”

“It is Helaena-”

Dread floods through his veins like ice and Aegon is gone, running through the halls of the Red Keep; dancing around courtiers and servants and nobles alike with the grace of one who had once been a brothel both who was not supposed to be seen nor heard. His valonqar is at his heels, gasping out directions.

Aegon doesn’t need them. 

No, he knows his sister. He knows this Keep. There is only one place-

The door to the small solar, tucked away in this distant corner of the Keep that his grandfather and mother never visit, swings open at the lightest of touches.

He stops.

“Aegon?”

He breathes in, lungs burning, heartbeat pounding a drum in his ears. His hands are steady as they unclip his sword belt in short, practised movements - his brother’s confused voice drowned out as he shoves the entire thing into his arms.

The room is small; Aegon could cross it in three large strides.

Instead, he takes small, steady steps to where his sister sits in the corner of the solar. His footsteps echo carefully against stone, bootheels placed forcefully down with each step, until he is within arms reach of his sister.

He falls to his knees.

“Helaena?” He murmurs, hands at his side. Ducking his head, he catches his sister’s eyes and-

Oh.

Ice turns to flame, burning in his veins.

He’d thought- another vision- but this-

“Helaena, hāedar?” Aegon whispers, calm and gentle and his hands shake against his thighs as rage burns through him. This is not the distance of the future, this is fear. Terror. What the fuck had happened, what had he done- “You’re safe, hāedar, I promise you. You are safe and you are free, he will not touch you. Never again.” There are soft gasps from behind him; he pays them no mind.

His sister looks up and her lip is bitten bloody, her eyes wide and her face pale and-

She looks through him and-

“Helaena-” he begins to say and stops himself. If High Valyrian - the language their mother and grandfather refuse to learn, the language that is theirs, this symbol of their new life - doesn’t work then… “Cousin?”

Silence falls. The presences behind him still.

Helaena twitches.

Aegon smiles, something as fierce and small and sharp as Excalibur. “Catia,” he says with all the roughness of Londinium, all the cadence of Camelot. “Cousin, can you hear me?” 

Seconds stretch into eternity as he waits, patiently, kneeling before his sister until-

“Arthur?”

“I’m here.”

In a heartbeat, his sister is in his arms, bloodied hands curled into his tunics. His arms at his side, pointedly, carefully, Aegon rests his head against hers and rocks them back and forth. “You’re safe, cousin, hāedar. You are safe, I promise you. You are not alone, I am here.” He whispers and from the corner of his eye, he can see Rhaenyra ushering their brother and her sons from the room. He doesn’t spare a moment to wonder why she is here - Aegon wasn’t subtle, sprinting across the Red Keep, and his nephews had certainly searched her out. 

Instead, he bows his head to her in thanks as she slips from the room and closes the door behind her.

“You are safe, Catia, Helaena. I promise you, you are safe.” 

Helaena shakes against his chest and Aegon shakes with her.

“He’s dead,” he whispers to his sister, to his cousin, and it is a reminder. It is an oath. “He’s dead.”

Otto Hightower will burn for what he has done.

#my fic #snippet #and i didn't like the ending verse #hotd #legend of the sword #i have class in the monring and i should really be asleep but i'm sitting in bed with my lights off writing this instead #writing this like: egg is gonna give helaena a hug #*remembers how catia died* #....helaena is gonna cling to him and egg will comfort her and there will be NO Hugs atm #even when i try to add hugs to things there’s Trauma involved

[curry-and-gunpowder]

In case anyone followed me here is waiting for fic updates, here's a quick one:

I'm very sorry the next chapter is taking so long, I've been hit with a somewhat severe mental health drop and haven't been able to write much. I'm however determined to finish and upload chapter 4 soon. Just asking y'all for some patience.

Thank you!

#bsd fic #fic: refuge verse #I'm doing okay now just dealing with the aftermath kinda #more cute baby odazai content soon #and also trauma #always trauma

[peace-and-light-poetry]

Her heartbeat

At times, she often woke her up If she found her sleeping during the day There was a reason for this

She almost lost her In that sea of red

She mostly woke her up Just to make sure she was Still with her

She is patient with her After all, she caused her this much pain Staying up most nights to

Help her sleep

At the moment, she'd assuage her worries again By holding her close, as she slept So, Little Sister

"I'm still here….

Could feel her heart beating Reassurance that her big sister will stay

"…..and I'm not leaving, anytime soon.."

#written on the fly #free-verse #short poem #fanfiction #poem fic #reassurance #sisterly bonding #ryuko matoi #satsuki kiryuin #mental illness #trauma #hurt/comfort #angst #kill la kill #heartbeat #big sister satsuki #nap #recovery #healing #a callback

[akkivee]

Wait omg can I hear more about platonic Saburo and Jyushi? That sounds like it could be really sweet 🥺

kr can pry saburo having an idol crush on 14th moon out of my dead cold hands!!!!!!!! 😤

lol no but i like to imagine that as mutual enjoyers of the edgy goth aesthetic, they’d have a lot of fun together slowly bringing saburo into that world lol. jyushi can introduce saburo to ouji fashion and they can play video games together where they customise their own characters to look as grandiose as possible and larp their characters’ ridiculously long final moves names lmao

narratively??? like they are also really similar???? i’m not caffeinated enough to explain this but i started a fic about them meeting for the first time a while back that i think you can get where i’m going with them lol

like!!!!! they want to change themselves into stronger people y’know???? they both really desire power for themselves!!!!! so much so that i worry about them in very similar fashions so they’re obviously twin souls at heart lmao!!!!! 😭😭😭

#vee got an ask #bwoken-dweebs #maybe one day i’ll finish the fic lol 😬 #i wish i could just import all the stray thoughts about what their dynamic could be that i’ve had like their glory or dust verses???? #requiem???? jyushi’s verse in light and shadow????? #how helpless they always feel due to their various traumas???? they’d honestly just understand each other really well #besides them stanning the same aesthetic 😭😭😭 i want them to be friends so bad 😭😭😭 #the ideal for me is that saburo is his usual bratty and haughty self around jyushi #but in the presence of 14th moon he becomes very similar to his brothers fanboying over anime lmao #c: jyushi #c: saburo