#tw physical violence

[gglitch1dd]

Angry Dilfs- Kirishima Eijiro

Yakuza DILF Kirishima Eijiro x Wifey Reader

Context: Your daughter comes to you broken and in need of comfort, but afterwards, all your husband can see is red

Note: this oneshot is based off of Yakuza Eijiro during Breedingtober. You can also read it as a stand alone.

Warning: This oneshot deals with hinted physical assault on reader and Eijiro's daughter caused by a friend. mention of guns, Yakuza, trauma from an attack. READER DESCRETION IS ADVISED. Also children. That too (they've got like 8 kids)

Eijiro leaned back in the cushioned seat, a chubby little Kirishima baby asleep on his chest as he sat in the nursery with her. It was a Friday night and thus was a takeout night in the Kirishima household. With boxes of pizza now empty and all his beautiful girls spread out around the house or in their rooms, it was peaceful. He looked down at his youngest born currently and probably his last if you had any say in it.

It was to no one’s surprise that Eijiro ended up being the one with the most amount of kids. No surprise at all. He grew up with seven other siblings, all being girls, and his parents were always attentive and loving to all of them which is how Eijiro wanted his family to be. He wanted it to be just as warm and as loving as he had it growing up, and he was so lucky to have found you who was so loving and caring and made him feel as though he was the luckiest guy in the world. He had always been outgoing and loving, an overall great guy who was more of a gentle giant than anything.

However maybe it was the breeding kink that should have made it pretty clear what part of his body he thought with.

Although to be fair, you weren’t exactly declining either. All it took was him sweet talking you and you’d find yourself round with another Kirishima baby a few months later. Never did take him much. At one point it was almost as if you could predict it. Whether it would take six months or three years, but you could already tell when baby fever would take over your husband.

He’d always come nice and slow to you, kissing you and worshiping your body like it was something designed by God himself. He would whisper your praises and make you feel as if you were the only woman in the world. Even with all the added weight of motherhood, you had never seen a man more turned on by the sight of you feeling like an absolute mess. And he was such an insatiable man too. Huge in stature and that wasn’t the only thing huge about him. He never left you not satisfied and he was such a great father to all your girls already.

So you often cursed yourself whenever you’d be sitting for another ultrasound, glaring at your grinning husband who was more than happy to be there.

Now with eight kids later, including one pair of twins, Eijiro couldn’t be happier.

The youngest little girl, Asumi let out a small coo in her sleep as she turned in her sleep. Eijiro carefully stood up and walked over to her crib. He never got tired of this and wanted to save up this feeling while it lasted. He careufully placed her down in her crib, not disturbing her sleep as she lay down supported and safe. He had done this enough times to know all the ins and outs. He carefully let go of her before turned to look at his only little boy who was fast asleep in his toddler bed. Juro was fast asleep, the three year old having knocked out with a cup of milk and half of a bedtime story.

With the two of them sorted out, Eijiro carefully moved out into the hallway. With a big family came a big house, but it was worth everything for his family, and it wasn’t that hard either considering the money that his… businesses brought in.

He walked through the dimlit hallways, looking through the cracks in the door to all the sleeping girls in their rooms. The one’s still awake were unsurprisingly the eldest three, Kaori, Satomi and Reika. No surprise to him at all, but they were old enough that he wasn’t going to get in their hair about bed time, least not the last two. So seeing as it was time to clock out to bed, he walked back to the master bedroom.

You sat on the large California King sized bed, reading a book as you got some time to yourself with Eijiro handling bedtime. You looked up to him, a graceful smile on your face. Two decades of marriage and he still never got tired of that beautiful smile. “Hey there, Eiji.” You spoke sweetly. “Are they all in bed?” You asked.

He nodded his head as rolled his shoulders. “Yah, all the ones who need to be, that is.” He commented as he moved over to where you were, getting onto bed himself.

You felt him grab at your hips, pulling you against him. You couldn’t help but giggle as you made yourself comfortable between his legs, leaning back against him with a smile. A low hum came from his chest as he felt up your sides. He kissed down against your neck, but he didn’t stop there. Soft nips came to your neck, his sharp teeth grazing your skin. You closed your book, knowing that the moment he had his hands on you, you wouldn’t be reading anytime soon. You ran one hand through his soft black hair. “Eijiro, I’m busy.” You whined.

“I’m busy too.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his definition of busy. Eijiro had stopped dyeing his hair over a decade ago. It was a decision he decided to make. As much as he loved the red, he knew that having little girls that would have his natural black hair colour, would mean that he would have to show them to love themselves in their entirety and he couldn’t show that to the little ones if he didn’t appreciate his own hair too. It was something he decided but you didn’t mind. You loved Eijiro in all forms.

You felt a lick go over the new bruise that would form on your neck, making a shiver run down your spine. You let out a soft sigh as you leaned back against him. You knew this was a losing game. Anything to do with your husband and his body against yours felt like a game you would always lose.

Luckily, a knock came to your door like your saving. Eijiro let out a low grumble only for you to hear which made you giggle. You exited out of his arms, moving to place the book down next to him before moving to sit next to him. He raised his head as he leaned back against the headboard, still holding you with one arm. “Enter.” He called out, allowing whichever child was at the door to come in. “I swear, I never get time with my honey.” He grumbled with a frown which only made you giggle at how spoilt he was.

Slowly entering your room, was your sixteen year old daughter, Satomi. You had barely saw her all day and she had been acting rather weird, but you didn’t want to pressure her, knowing she would come talk to the both of you when she needed to. She had gone out with some friends today but only came back later in the evening but went straight to her room. She peaked into your room, slowly closing the door behind her.

Eijiro brightened up at his little girl. He had always been close to his girls but Satomi was his little princess. She was such a daddy’s girl and had been spoiled beyond belief but she was also your best helper too. “Princess. How are you? I’ve barely seen you today.”

Unusually, she had her dyed red hair covering half of her face today. She shuffled into the room, holding onto her arm as she approached the both of you slowly. She kept her eyes down casted as she seemed on the verge of tears. Her ruby eyes glistening with tears. Instantly your maternal senses started ringing in your head as you sat up. You looked to Eijiro who seemed just as worried. “C-can I…” She started softly. “Can I talk to you guys?”

You nodded your head, motioning for her to come and sit down with the both of you. “Of course, sweetheart. What’s going on?” You asked her gently.

She sat down on your bed in front of the both of you. She kept her eyes down casted. Her eyebrows knitted together as she took a moment to piece everything together in her head. She let out a shaky breath but kept her ruby eyes away from the both of you. “When… when I went out with my friends…” She started to tell you both whatever was bothering her. “We went to the mall and everything was great. We saw the movie and got to eat lunch too which was nice. But-” She closed her eyes, her hands shaking slightly as she tried to tell whatever happened today that had her so shaken.

You glanced at Eijiro who glanced back at you. The both of you had a sinking feeling inside you that you both didn’t like whatsoever. It was a horrible feeling inside you, one of sinking dread as you didn’t know what to do almost.

She opened her eyes again, a tear slipping past her eyes. “Koji, a guy I thought he was my friend, he… well… I had just gone to the bathroom and it wasn’t even that far. I was being safe I promise but then h-he… he followed me… and…” Her voice broke as she looked up at the both of you finally. She shook her head as tears started to stream from her eyes, her face puffy. “I promise I didn’t want him to do it! I didn’t try anything! I made sure I dressed appropriately and I wasn’t hitting on him. I promise I didn’t do anything, you’ve got to believe me.”

“Sweetheart.” You quickly moved closer to her, being careful not to scare her as you gently placed a hand on her shoulder. You looked at her in her eyes, trying to calm her down. “We believe you, but you have to tell us what happened.” You whispered.

She swallowed down a sob as she nodded her head. Finally she moved to pull back her hair away from the left side of her face. You gasped as your husband’s eyes widened in shock. Sitting on her beautiful face, near her eye was a dark bruise. “I-I tried to get away, but he’d cornered me. I tried fighting I really did, and if it wasn’t for one of the waitresses hearing me, I wouldn’t have gotten away from him in time before he-” She swallowed down harshly. “But it didn’t stop him from…” She bit back any more words, incapable of speaking as she pulled down part of her nightgown to show more bruises. You were frozen still disgust and pain your throat at the mere fact that someone would do this to your daughter. That someone would that she called a friend would have betrayed her like this. Suddenly you were pulled out of your head as she moved to cover her mouth, biting back sobs as she was shaking. “I p-promise I tried! I really tried!”

“Princess, may I touch you?” Eijiro asked you, far more collected than you expected him to be. He looked to her genuinely, wanting just to comfort her.

She nodded her head. Eijiro moved forward and swiftly held her in his big arms, dwarfing her in size. He hugged her tightly, holding her like she would disappear. Finally being in her father’s arms, Satomi broke down. You moved over to hold her to, threading your hands through her hair.

Your daughter sobbed in the both of your arms. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Daddy! I promise I-”

“No, princess. You did nothing wrong. You really did nothing wrong.” He assured her as he held her in his arms. “You did all that you could. I’m so very proud of you. You’re so brave. Thank you for telling us.”

“You’re safe now, okay?” You whisper to her. “You’re alright. You’ll be okay.”

The two of you held her in your arms until the poor thing had fallen asleep in your arms. She was exhausted and the both of you had stayed with her until you were both sure that she was asleep. Eijiro had gotten up and placed her in bed, allowing her to sleep in her own bed for just a moment. He had given her a kiss on her forehead, before leaving back to your room.

The two of you were silent as you stood amongst yourselves. The atmosphere in you room was heavy as you digested what had just happened. You were quiet as you turned to look at him. You looked over to your husband with a frown on his face.

Eijiro was frozen in place, all emotion ridden from his face as he paused. His fists were balled tightly, almost ready to smash in someone’s skull. He glanced at you, a dark look in his eyes that told you all you had to know. You moved to grab his phone from off the bedside table and handed it to him. You quickly moved to change as your husband made a phone call to one of his gang members. It didn’t even take five minutes before the both  of you were walking out of your bedroom.

Eijiro stopped at your eldest daughter’s room. He knocked on Reika’s door, peaking in. Reika sat on her bed with her earphones in. She looked to the both of you, her black hair tied in a bun. She paused at the sight of the both of you and the attire you both adorned. She looked down to the gun holster that was strapped to your thigh. She moved to get up, seeing the clear worry on both of your faces as a sign. Reika knew everything about the business and the Yakuza, being your husband’s heiress to the gang.

“We’re sorting out some business to do with your sister. We’re coming back, watch over them.” He told her seriously.

Reika hesitated as she looked between the both of you. “What type of business?”

Eijiro motioned for you to go and get the car out, which you did without question. He looked back at Reika. “Cleaning up trash.” He stated simply, letting go of her doorhandle. “Call Aunty Mina if anything happens.”

Eijiro left to go downstairs, meeting you in the front of the house as you drove the car forward. Eijiro and you swapped places as he got behind the wheel and you sat in the passenger’s seat. You were both silent in the car. You were checking your handgun, looking it over like it was second nature.

“Honey…”

“Yes?” You turned to look to Eijiro.

Your husband was speeding but considering the time of night, it wasn’t a bother. His hands gripped the steering wheel with a deathly grip, his pupils thin as he seemed only trained on one thing and one thing only. Pure violence and carnage behind his eyes. Something you hadn’t seen in a long time since you had started your family together. “I want to be the one to do it.” He let out darkly his fingers flexing over the wheel. His voice was low with murderous intent. “With my own two hands.”

You watched your husband silently but nodded your head. “Of course.”

He nodded his head as his phone vibrated, with a notification. Everything was shrouded in darkness in the car as you picked up his phone and opened it to see a message from Tetsu. “They’ve got a location. He’s asking if you want men there?”

“Tell him we’ll call for clean up, but I want us to do it ourselves.” He stated simply as he stopped thee car at a redlight. His face was shrouded in a deep crimson red, his eyes almost seeming black with not an ounce of humanity left in them. “No one touches one of my girls.”

-Glitch1d

[Angry Dilf Katsuki]

[Angry Dilf Izuku]

Thats it for all my dilfs that i adore so much. Thank you for supporting this mini series! Also I see you Tumblr, flagging down my Dilf Bakugou post. SMH.

#mha x y/n #kirishima x reader #bnha #eijiro kirishima #dad kirishima #dilf kirishima #yakuza kirishima eijiro #yakuza kirishima #kirishima eijirou x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #eijiro x reader #tw physical violence #tw trauma #tw assault

[buzzkillchainsaw]

Pearl comic part 4 ⚠️ TW fictional child characters hurt & in distress

Next part:

Previous part:

#wof #wings of fire #seawing #wof seawing #seawing wof #dragon #dragon oc #wof oc #tw physical violence #buzzkill wof arc

[serickswrites]

Truth

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, physical violence, bruises, truth serum, drugging, noncon drug use, video recording, hostage sitaution

"Please, don't," Whumpee begged. "Please, you don't have to do this." They shook in the restraints Whumper had used to bind them to the table. They watched Whumper with wide, terror-filled eyes, as Whumper advanced on them, syringe in hand.

Whumper back handed Whumpee hard. Whumpee whimpered with the pain. "Don't speak until I speak to you," Whumper growled. "And besides, I want to do this, Whumpee. You have what I want. And I always get what I want."

Whumpee could feel their lip swell from where Whumper had struck them. They knew their face was bruised from Whumper's rough handling of them. But still, they didn't want Whumper to inject them with whatever was in that vial. "Please," they tried once more. Surely, Whumper would be reasonable.

Whumper grinned wickedly as they stabbed Whumpee's arm with the syringe. "No," they said as they depressed the plunger.

Whumpee's veins were on fire. Every part of them was on fire. They couldn't breathe through the fire. Someone was screaming. It was them. They were screaming. Every single cell in their body was on fire.

Whumpee had no idea when the flames receded. They had no idea how much time had passed. They only knew that Whumper was speaking gently with them, stroking their hair, talking softly. They sobbed. It was all they could do. They were too weak to even turn their head towards Whumper.

"There, there, my sweet. I have one more little treat for you. Smile for the camera." Whumpee felt another needle in their arm. Felt a coolness wash over them. It was a welcome relief to the fire that had consumed them. "Now, you are going to answer all of my questions. And then we will send this video to the person who will actually give me what I want."

"Yes, Whumper," Whumpee heard their voice. But it wasn't their voice. It was dull, no inflection. And yet they felt their lips move.

"And remember, Whumpee," Whumper snickered, "the truth will set you free. So be honest."

"Yes, Whumper."

"Does Caretaker have what I want?" Whumper said from somewhere to their left. They heard Whumper take a step closer. Whumpee couldn't answer that question. They had to keep Caretaker out of this.

"Yes," Whumpee said against their will. They tried to turn their head, but couldn't. They were to weak. Whatever Whumper had given them, it hadn't given them energy. It just made them speak, though they didn't want to.

"Will Caretaker give it up for you?" Whumper said as they leaned over Whumpee, phone in hand.

Whumpee didn't want to answer. They couldn't answer. Because then everything Caretaker had worked for would be undone. "Yes." Whumpee closed their eyes against the tears. Though they hadn't wanted to speak. They had to. Whumper made them. Hopefully Caretaker would forgive them. If they lived long enough for Caretaker to find them.

Whumper climbed onto the table with them, pinched their cheek. "You hear that, Caretaker?" Whumper said as they flipped the camera so that both they and Whumpee were in the frame. "You'll give me what I want for Whumpee. So come get your Whumpee. Or you'll be picking up the pieces from here to kingdom come."

Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut once more. They had failed Caretaker. Failed and let themself become a hostage. Caretaker had to leave them. Caretaker couldn't come get them. It would be all for nought. "You have two days to collect what I desire and get here, Caretaker. Or Whumpee will face the consequences. Won't you, Whumpee?"

Whumpee nodded as tears flowed down their cheeks. "Yes, Whumper." They told the truth. However, this truth did not set them free.

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw captivity #tw restraints #tw torture #tw physical violence #tw bruises #tw truth serum #tw drugging #tw noncon drug use #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhump day 17 #febuwhump day 18 #febuwhump day 19 #febuwhump day 20 #prompt: hostage situation #prompt: too weak to move #prompt: “please don't” #prompt: truth serum #queue #tw video recording #tw hostage situation

[ickyd0ll]

I LOVE YOU AS A FIST LOVES THE BROKEN RIB, AS THE LUNGS LOVE THE CHASE, AS THE FINGER AND THE NAIL LOVE THE GOUGE AND TEAR. I LOVE YOU AS THE TEETH LOVE THE TENDON, AND THE TENDON THE BRUISE, I LOVE YOU AS ADRENALINE LOVES THE POUNDING IN YOUR EARS.

#irl yandere #lovesick #obsessivecore #obssesion #traumacore #obsessive #possessive love #yandere #yandere vent #tw physical violence #bpd yandere #bpd #bpd vent #bloodcore #trauma cw #borderline blog #ragecore #obssession #obsessive love #yancore #irl yan #yandere coping

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

catra vs chipped catra: a comparison

someone might have already done it before but i've been meaning to make a post with direct comparisons of the way chipped catra treated adora and the way catra generally treated adora.

because the whole point of a character being mind controlled is that they're completely out of character and does things that they normally wouldn't, right? and according to c//a shippers, catra would have never done any of this if it wasn't for prime.

so let's see how different her behaviour really was.

physical violence? ✅

using her claws on adora? ✅

unwanted manipulative physical touch? ✅

emotional manipulation and victim blaming? ✅

it's so funny that chipped catra only threatens to drop adora off a cliff while catra in her right mind actually does it. multiple times.

even the position and framing in some of these scenes are eerily similar.

i just— how do you mess up a mind control trope so bad? it's one of the easiest ways to add some angst into a story but what's the point if you're mind controlling the villain and making them do the same atrocious things they do in their right mind?

in catra's own words,

#spop critical #spop salt #spop criticism #spop discourse #spop #she ra #anti spop #anti catra #anti catradora #anti c//a #anticatra #anticatradora #anti stans #tw abuse #tw physical abuse #tw physical violence #tw manipulation #tw emotional abuse #tw emotional manipulation #tw toxic relationship

[writingforstraykids]

Hii, can you write something Minchan x reader where Minho gets out of an abusive relationship and ends up at Chan's/your place? 🥺

A/N: Hey there, this started as a short drabble before I edited it and turned this into a fic. I hope this is what you wanted and you like it. Thank you for the request💕🥰

Second Chance

Word Count: 4725

Summary: Chan and you help Minho the night he gets out of his abusive relationship. Due to your shared past Minho seems anxious to intrude. A year later things seem to be going well until a situation escalates and triggers a panic attack.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, tw!physical abuse, tw!emotional abuse, tw!panic attack, bruises, emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, poly!skz

You hum softly against your boyfriend's lips, indulging the warmth of his body against yours. You feel calm and loved here with him in the safety of your home. Smiling, you brush back his curls and nudge his nose with yours. "Come on now, you promised Min that dinner ages ago." 

"Didn't I tell you? He texted me half an hour ago that he can't make it tonight," Chan says and kisses you lovingly. "That means I have time for you tonight, baby." 

You frown softly as Chan starts kissing down your neck. "You think he's okay?" 

"He didn't say anything else," Chan mumbles against your skin. 

"Yeah, but-," you start and stop as he pulls back with a groan. 

"Please, I don't want to think about our ex when I'm kissing you," he tells you. 

"You mean our best friend, dummy," you giggle and Chan laughs, giving in. "I'm just worried. It isn't like him to cancel plans last minute without a reason." 

"I don't know, maybe his boyfriend had plans?" he asks and you huff softly. "I know you don't like that guy, but-." 

"You've seen the bruises, Channie, something's off," you say firmly, thinking of the last time Minho visited. He looked tired, sad even, and there had been a heavy bruise on his wrist that looked like someone grabbed him too hard. Chan asked him about it of course, but dropped it at how defensive Minho became. 

"Listen, doll, he'll let us know if something's off," Chan says. 

"Not when it's what I think it is," you shake your head. "What if he's being manipulated into thinking it's his fault? Or if he's too embarrassed to tell you? You know how hard it is for him to open up and-." 

"Fucks sake," he climbs off the bed and searches for his phone. "I'm sure he's…," he starts and his face falls looking at his screen. 

"Please don't tell me I was right," you whisper. 

"I'm…Minho called. Ten times in the last twenty minutes," he says worriedly. 

"Shit, you think they got into a fight?" you ask shocked. 

"I don't know," he says and quickly puts on his sneakers, searching for his keys. His phone goes off, loudly this time as Chan had unmuted it. "Minho, what's wrong?" he asks worriedly and puts him on speaker. 

"Chan, hyung, can I stay at yours? Just for tonight," Minho says shakily, glancing across his shoulder as he walks down the street to your apartment. "I'm so sorry about this but it's kind of an emergency," he rambles on. 

"Yeah, sure, do you need me to pick you up?" he asks worriedly. 

"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea," Minho shakes his head and quickens his steps as someone walks down the street behind him, getting closer. "I'll be there in a minute anyways." 

"You're driving here?" Chan asks. 

"No," Minho swallows. "Don't know where my drivers license is. Or my keys. You know me, I tend to misplace my stuff," he laughs it off, almost choking on it. 

Chan exchanges a meaningful glance with you. Minho did not misplace his stuff often. "Okay, just ring the bell when you're here, Y/N will buzz you in," he says. 

"Chan," Minho bursts out panicked, closing his eyes for a second to remind himself to stay calm. "Please don't hang up yet," he pleads and looks back once more realizing the guy behind him is his boyfriend. "Fuck, no," he whispers. 

"What's wrong?" Chan asks, eyes widening as Minho doesn't answer before yelping in pain. Chan drops his phone and races off, leaving your front door open. 

You grab Chan's phone and rush to the door, waiting there anxiously. "Min?" you ask worriedly and only hear something crash to the ground, suspecting it was his phone. 

Minho winces in pain as his boyfriend grabs his hair forcefully and tries to get away from him. "Please, stop," he begs, hot tears already filling his eyes again and spilling down his cheeks. 

"Who the fuck allowed you to leave, huh? You have nowhere to go, you need me to function because you're too dumb to do it on your own," he shouts at him and punches him into the stomach. "Why the fuck would you run off?" 

He groans surprised, fresh tears shooting into his eyes. "Please, I'm so sorry," he begs. Minho bends over in pain but doesn't get far due to the harsh tug at his hair. He chokes on his sobs and braces himself for the next hit. 

"Let go of him!" Chan snaps as soon as he reaches them. 

"Channie," Minho whimpers in fear, wincing as his boyfriend grabs his chin forcefully. 

"Seriously? You're still not over him?" he asks darkly and Minho's eyes flicker anxiously. "Out of everyone you call him. I knew you'd cheat on me." 

"I didn't-," Minho starts weakly and flinches heavily when Chan's suddenly next to him, one hand on his lower back. 

"I won't say it again, let go of him," Chan says firmly. 

"I won't do shit," he tells him sharply. "This is my boyfriend, Chan, back off." 

"Alright then," Chan says and with a swift move he punches him right into the face, delivering another forceful hit into his stomach. 

Minho backs away as soon as his hold on him lessens and hides behind Chan, anxiously grabbing the hem of Chan's shirt. "Chan," he whispers. "Chan, we should leave." 

"Get inside, I'll be there in a minute," Chan tells him. 

"Channie he has a knife," Minho begs him through tears. 

Chan reaches back for him and takes his hand, eyeing the man in front of him. "Minho, run," he says and pulls him with him. Chan pulls the front door closed behind them and follows Minho, who's already stumbling up the stairs to your apartment. 

Your eyes widen as you see him rushing up the stairs, tears streaming down his face. "Minho," you say shocked as he gets closer and you notice how hard he's shaking. 

Chan reaches the door only seconds later and gently shoves Minho inside. "Come on, let's get inside and close that door." 

Minho doesn't get far, sliding down against a wall in your hallway as soon as the door's closed. He pulls his legs to his chest, whimpering as he rocks himself, trying to calm down. Heavy sobs shake his body as he tries to hold them back and his breathing quickens. 

You subconsciously grab Chan's hand, too shocked to move for a moment as you watch him breaking down. That's a very rare side of Minho. You squint your eyes as Minho messily wipes his cheeks and you can see the bruised skin beneath the makeup he put on to hide them. Your heart sinks to your stomach as you take a few steps forward and crouch down in front of him, keeping your distance. "Minnie?" you ask softly and after the third time he snaps out of his state and stares at you with wide eyes. "Minnie, what happened?" you ask gently, barely noticing Chan sitting on the floor next to you. 

"Please don't tell anyone," he presses out, glancing from you to Chan. "You can't," he whimpers. 

"Don't tell anyone what?" Chan asks calmly. He knows what he saw out there but did Minho? 

"That we had a fight. No one can know," he says desperately. 

"Why?" Chan asks patiently and fear flickers in Minho's eyes. "What happens if someone knows?" 

Minho shakes his head rapidly, backing further away against the wall. "Please don't."

"What?" Chan asks and reaches out for him, placing his hand on his knee. 

Minho whimpers in fear, flinching heavily, and pushes himself up. "This was a mistake," he says and stumbles toward your door. "Sorry for bothering you two." 

"No, Min, you're not bothering us," you try to get up but Chan holds you back, reading the situation better than you. 

"Kitten?" he asks and Minho stops in his tracks at that old term of endearment. "Please stay? You're safe here, we don't have to talk about it today, I promise." 

Minho hugs himself and glances at the door, torn between his options. "I-uhm-I don't know if…," he trails off meeting your worried eyes. 

"It's okay, you can stay," you assure him gently. "We have all the time you need."

"It's fine, I'll just go back home," he chokes on the last word, his eyes betraying him. 

"I don't think that's a good idea," Chan tells him gently. 

"Listen, Chan, just because things with you were different doesn't mean it's all bad," Minho grows defensive. 

"Different? You mean because I didn't hit you in the middle of the street?" he asks and you contort your face, unsure of how Minho would take that. "Come on, you know better than that. You don't deserve to be treated this way." 

"Yes, I do," Minho whispers. "I deserve every little bit of it because it's my own fault I gave up on something good. I gave up on you."

"Sometimes things don't work the way we want them to…but you didn't give up on us. And we won't give up on you now," Chan says firmly. 

Minho's face falls in a sob as he gives in. "Channie," he whimpers and Chan gets up slowly. 

"Can I give you a hug?" he asks caringly and Minho nods anxiously. "Okay, deep breaths," he says as he steps closer and Minho subconsciously takes a step back. "I'm here, it's okay," he promises softly, holding his hand out for him. "It's Channie, remember?" he asks soothingly and Minho nods, seeming as if he has to process that information first. Chan very gently places his hands on Minho's shoulders first before fondling down his arms. "Easy there," he whispers and takes another step forward, carefully wrapping his arms around him. "That's okay, kitten?" 

Minho nods weakly and buries his face in his shoulder, hugging him back hesitantly. "I can't breathe," he whispers, clutching his shirt as he feels the panic still boiling deep inside of him. 

"Y/N, come here," Chan tells you, still keeping his volume down. "Is it okay if Y/N hugs you too?" he asks, soothingly rubbing his back. "You need to feel some kind of weight or pressure to calm down right?" 

Minho bites back a sob, hearing that Chan still remembers that. "Yeah," he answers shakily and sucks in a sharp breath. 

You follow Chan's instructions, stepping behind Minho and hugging him as well. You and Chan trap him between your bodies and hug him tightly. "Okay, Minnie, now breathe in deep through your nose…and out through the mouth. Deep breaths," you tell him, guiding him through it. You have witnessed him panicking once before after their video shoot high up on that helicopter landing platform. It feels like ages ago. 

Minho grows calmer in your hold after a while, his breathing calms and his body stops shaking. Instead he's shivering with exhaustion and the adrenaline leaving his body. "I promise I'll be gone tomorrow," he tells you quietly. 

"We'll talk about that tomorrow. One step at a time, okay?" Chan says soothingly and exchanges a worried look with you. "Let's go and sit down?" 

"That sounds like a good idea," you nod, gently nudging Minho forward into your apartment. You don't have to tell him the directions, this has been his home before after all. You go to grab some warm blankets and Chan takes his laptop and headphones from the sofa to make some room. Minho stands still in the middle of your living room, anxiously fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater. "Chan, why don't you go and help Min put on some comfy clothes?" 

Chan turns to look at you and glancing at Minho makes him realize your intention. "Sure, come on," he says and carefully takes his hand pulling him with him. Minho follows him until they reach your bedroom and he comes to a sudden stop. "Min?" he asks. 

"I-uh-I'm sorry," he shakes his head, following him inside. The amount of memories crashing down on him steals his breath for a moment. It's still the same bed, curtains and even the pictures of his cats are still on your desk in the corner. He remembers the many intimate moments he spent here with both you and Chan, the many nights and lazy mornings. "It's too much," he whispers. 

Chan closes the closet and tilts his head at him. "What is?" 

"This here," he says, vaguely waving through the room. "I can't go back to his place, because that's not home. This isn't either because it was before I fucked it all up. I have nowhere to go and-," tears brim his eyes all over again and he huffs at himself in utter frustration. "God, I'm so stupid." 

Chan sits down at the edge of the bed and pats the space next to him. "Come here," he says and after a moment of hesitation he does. "I know you're going through shit right now, your feelings are all over the place and you're scared and confused. But you're not alone, you don't have to be." 

Minho chews on his lower lip and stares down as Chan carefully takes his hand again. "He was right."

"About what?" he asks calmly. 

"I am still in love with the two of you. I do think about what I lost here a lot…but I never told him that," he confesses quietly. "I was so scared that things wouldn't work out or our fans wouldn't accept us the way we were that I freaked out, destroying the thing I was so scared of losing." 

Chan swallows softly and fondles his knuckles as he listens. "How long has this been going on?" 

"What? The screaming? The hitting? The hairpulling?" Minho asks sarcastically before exhaling loudly. "A month into the relationship." 

"A-Minho that's been five months," Chan exclaims in shock. 

"I know," he nods and stares into the distance. "I felt like I deserved it. He encouraged that and I got stuck in this shitty cycle of wanting to be useful for that person you fear but strangely still love." 

"What did he do?" Chan asks and a shadow travels over Minho's face. 

"Not tonight," he shakes his head and gives him a sad smile. "If that's okay." 

"Okay, yeah, of course," Chan nods quickly. "You don't have to say anything but…we love you too. And we miss you, we miss your dumb jokes and sassy comments. We miss your adorable laugh and Y/N misses you every time she has to glam up all on her own. So, we think about you a lot as well. What I'm trying to say is that if you'd ever feel ready, we're there. If not, we'll always be your friends and this means you can stay with us for as long as you want to, no matter what you choose. It's your choice, okay?"

"Okay," he whispers and drops his head, burying his face in his shoulder. 

"But that's also not something to discuss tonight," Chan says, planting a tiny kiss on his hair. "Just wanted you to know you're always welcome here." 

Minho squeezes his hand tightly. "Thank you." 

Chan stays there with him for another while, mindlessly rubbing his knuckles and whispering soothing nonsense to him from time to time. He doesn't know how long they stay there like this but it seems to help Minho's body calm down. You come to look for them after a while, your expression softening seeing them. 

You sit down at Minho's other side and gently pat his thigh. "Hey there, doing a little better?" 

He hums gently and blindly reaches out for your hand, squeezing it as he finds it. "I love you, you know that right?" he asks and you're too stunned to answer for a second. 

"I-uh-yeah, I guess I do," you stammer and Chan flashes you a compassionate smile. 

Minho pulls away from Chan's shoulder and turns to look at. "I know I fucked up, Y/N, even if you say I didn't. I didn't hurt you on purpose." 

"I know," you say quietly. 

"I just…I was scared," Minho says and lets go of Chan's and your hands. "And now I'm back here and I've never been more scared in my life before," he admits shakily and rubs his thighs, trying to steady himself. 

"He can't hurt you here, I promise," you try to soothe him. 

"I'm scared of what that shit did to me," he shakes his head. "I'm scared of him. I'm scared to lose you because I'll be a burden now…and it fucking terrifies me that I'm so open and honest about my feelings right now," he adds at the end making you all laugh. 

"That means you're making progress," you say and a weak smile tugs at the corners of his lips. 

"We can work this all out together…and if there are things we can't deal with we'll find someone who can," Chan adds and Minho nods thankfully. 

"I want you to keep that up and be very clear about your boundaries with us, okay?" you ask. "We don't want to trigger anything or make you feel uncomfortable." 

"I can try," Minho promises bravely. 

"And don't hesitate asking us if you need anything," Chan continues. 

"I will," he nods. 

You pull him into a hug and bury your face in his hair, tears brimming your eyes as he hugs you back tightly. "We got you, Minnie." 

One year later 

Chan paces your shared apartment, phone clutched in his hand, as he tries to stay calm. You can tell he has trouble doing so, noticing the way his hands shake, his chest heaves with irregular breaths, and the worry clouding his usually soft brown eyes. Your boyfriend checks the time once again, a low groan slipping from his lips as he realizes only five minutes have passed since he last checked. 

“Channie,” you say very gently, and he stops, staring at you with wide eyes. “Come here, sit down for a minute.”

“Can’t,” he shakes his head and continues the reckless pace from before.

“I’m sure he’s alright,” you say, trying to convince yourself at the same time. 

“You don’t know that,” he shakes his head firmly. “What if that asshole met him somewhere and-” his voice breaks, and he quickly shuts his mouth again. 

“Chan,” you say firmly. “We can’t keep on expecting the worst. Nothing has happened in a year. Min’s an adult, he can do what he wants. If he decides to stay away for a whole day, then that’s his choice.”

“He’s not thinking straight at the moment, you know that. Now that he's been with us for a whole year everything comes up again. He’s emotional; he keeps on seeking our help, trying not to bother us, and I need to keep him safe, I-” he breaks off again as he meets your eyes.

“Stop making what happened to him your fault,” you tell him. “I know he means a lot to you, I know you want to keep him safe, but stop blaming yourself for what his ex did.”

“He called me Y/N. Repeatedly. I was busy making out with you as this asshole hurt him,” he says, getting more emotional with every passing minute. “And still, he came here as soon as he could.”

You have enough and slip off your chair, making your way over to him. “That’s because he trusts you…and sometimes you have to trust him too,” you say and offer him a hug. 

Chan pulls you into his arms and buries his face in your hair. He can feel your heart racing against his chest and snorts. “So much to staying calm.”

“It’s not that I’m not worried myself, Channie,” you remind him calmly. 

You still remember the night one year ago as if it was yesterday. Not a night has passed since then without him joining the two of you in your bed at night, first as your friend, then in search for the love he thought he lost. Time healed the bruises, the split lip but not the scars left on his heart, and the fear that was still deep in his bones. By now you were finding your routine as a throuple but there was still a lot to figure out. So, of course, Chan gets worried when Minho doesn’t show up for a whole day and doesn’t answer his phone.

The front door to your apartment opens, and you look up surprised as Minho strolls in calmly, two bags in his hand, keys in the other. He frowns softly as he spots the two of you and tilts his head at you, meeting your eyes. "You're okay?" 

Chan lets go of you, and you can tell his worries get replaced by anger, which is also a very familiar part of him worrying to you. “Where the fuck have you been?” he asks firmly.

“What?” Minho asks confused, flinching at the harsh tone.

“I tried calling you for like a hundred times, Min. I’ve been worried sick all day about you!” Chan goes on, letting his anger flow freely now. 

"Chan," you try gently. 

Minho’s stomach turns painfully as the common fear of what is about to unfold takes hold of him. He puts down the bags shakily, bracing himself for all the hurtful words that would leave his hyung's mouth at any second. He deserves every one of them. "I-I turned off my phone," he says quietly. 

"You can't be serious," Chan snaps, and you glance at him worriedly. "I told you always to keep that damn thing close so I can find you when something happens." 

"I-I'm sorry, hyung," Minho says shakily, staring at the floor in front of him. "I know that was stupid. I'm stupid."

"You're not stupid, Min," you chime in gently, but the younger male shakes his head firmly. 

"I am," he presses out, body shaking in fear as he feels put back into a situation he thought he escaped. 

"I told you so often," Chan insists tiredly, voice growing more gentle. "How could you forget that?" 

"I'm sorry," he whimpers, tears shooting to his eyes and spilling right down his cheeks. "I-I should've told you. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," he starts, sounding a little panicked. "I'm so stupid, I'm sorry I worried you. Please don't punish me." 

Chan's whole demeanor changes at that sudden breakdown, face falling. "Fuck," he breathes out, realizing how triggering this must've been. "Minho, no one is going to punish you," he says gently, making his way over, not knowing that being soft was exactly what Minho got before the snap. 

Minho subconsciously takes a step back, shivering. "Please, I'll do better, I promise," he tries to save himself. Stumbling back blindly, he trips over Chan's backpack and falls backward, hitting his head at the front door as he crashes onto the ground. 

"Shit," you breathe out shocked. 

By the time Chan reaches him to help him up, he's sobbing, curling up on the floor and protecting his head. "Min, hey, hey, it's okay," Chan tries, crouching down. The moment he touches him, Minho screams in fear, making him flinch back. 

"Please," he sobs, making himself even smaller. 

Chan looks back at you, eyes filling with tears and practically screaming for help. He backs away quietly from Minho as you make your way over. 

You crouch down next to him and hesitantly place your hand on his lower back. "Minnie," you say soothingly, knowing no one else but Chan and you called him that. "Minnie, angel, you're safe. I'm here, no one can hurt you, okay?" Your voice breaks through the fog of panic, and Minho scrambles onto his knees, lunging forward and holding onto you tightly. You hold onto him just as tight, soothingly running your hand through his hair. "Shh, it's okay," you whisper and rock him in your arms. "It's okay, you're safe." 

Minho sobs into your sweater, holding onto you for dear life. He tries focusing on your scent, how your hair feels beneath his fingertips, and how your body is warm against his. He tries pushing all the dark memories aside, reminding himself that he is, in fact, safe. Safe in your warm embrace. 

You glance over at Chan, who watches you, still standing in the same spot. The guilt in his eyes is overwhelming, and he doesn't bother wiping away the tears running down his cheeks. You hold out your hand for him, but he shakes his head weakly. "Channie babe, come here," you say soothingly. "Chan was just worried, he didn't mean to upset you, dear," you say toward Minho, and the younger one nods bravely. "Come on," you encourage your boyfriend.

Chan slowly makes his way over, shaking as he sits beside you. "Minnie, I'm so sorry," he presses out, hesitantly rubbing his back.

Minho pulls back and looks at him through teary eyes. "Something's wrong with me," he whispers, and Chan searches his eyes confused. "You'd never hurt me." 

Chan firmly shakes his head. "Never," he promises. "I'm sorry I got mad." 

Minho straddles his lap, burying his face in Chan's shoulder. He wraps his arms around his neck and sniffles softly. "No, I'm sorry for disappearing," he says shakily. 

Chan hugs him tight, burying his face in his hair and closing his eyes. He gently runs his hand over his back before fondling his head. "Does it still hurt?" he asks, and Minho shakes his head. 

You watch them with a gentle smile, knowing how much they mean to each other. Minho pulls back after a while, pressing their foreheads together with a weak laugh. "I'm sorry, Channie love, I know I worried you." 

"Stop that now," he says gently, rubbing his sides soothingly. "I know you didn't mean to." 

"Thank you for always trying to keep me safe," he tells him, cupping his face. 

"Of course," your boyfriend whispers. 

Minho wraps him back into his arms and closes his eyes for a moment before speaking up. "I just wanted to take a walk this morning, but then he bombarded me with messages, having another fake account. I got upset, turned my phone off, and kept on walking around aimlessly for hours. I completely forgot the time." 

"That's okay, Min, it happens," you assure him, sitting down next to them. 

Minho flashes you a weak smile and squeezes your hand gently. "I should've told you guys. I wasn't thinking." 

"Happens," Chan nods and soothingly rubs his thighs. 

Minho meets his eyes again and remains silent for a while, sinking deeper into that warm feeling of comfort and safety. "I actually bought dinner on the way back." 

You giggle softly and pat his shoulder. "That's sweet." 

"And uhm…I saw something that seemed fitting for the two of you," he says, ears burning up a little as he climbs off Chan's lap. Minho grabs the smaller bag and takes out two small boxes, handing the longer one to you. 

Chan opens his and takes out a beautiful silver bracelet with a small pendant in the middle. There's a heart-shaped hole in the pendant, and opening your box, you know why: the heart's attached to a necklace. "Oh my God, that's so cute," you beam at him. Chan helps you put it on, and Minho watches you with a soft smile. "Where's yours?" you ask and Minho frowns softly. 

"I-uhm…I shouldn't-," he shakes his head, swallowing softly at your confused expressions. 

"Kitten, you're a part of us," Chan says softly and Minho's eyes brim with tears again. 

"But-," he starts out weakly. 

"We love you. This is your home, angel," you tell him and smile as Chan caresses his cheek and Minho instinctively leans into it. 

"We'll go back there tomorrow and find something fitting for you," Chan suggests. 

A hot tear falls down Minho's cheek as he watches the two of you amazed. "Okay," he whispers and closes his eyes as Chan plants a soft kiss on his hair. He giggles softly as you kiss the tip of his nose and smiles at the two of you through his tears. "I love you two so much." 

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/ removed from the taglist)

@soullostinspaceandtime @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @aaasia111 @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @galaxycatdrawz

#stray kids #skz #skz fic #chan fic #stray kids fic #chan #minho fic #minho #minchan #minchan fic #tw abuse #tw physical abuse #tw physical violence #tw emotional abuse #tw panic attack #tw bruises #minho angst #chan angst #minchan angst #minho fluff #chan fluff #minchan fluff #poly!skz #poly!stray kids #minho x reader fic #chan x reader fic #minchan x reader fic #anon request #requests open

[mrsdaqota]

Finally finished my Trortur lore comic for f&h ask xD I really outdone myself... whew

#fear and hunger #fanart #f&h #fear and hunger fanart #trortur #digital art #fear&hunger #mini comic #knights #all mer #tw torture #tw physical violence

[gunsoffire]

Not Your Typical Hipster

#Post 54 #tw physical violence #Butt Flash #trevor philips #Trevor philips in a dress #type: video #gta v #gta 5 #gta #GTA Shenanigans #Gof's post #Trevor gta #GTA clips #trevor simping

[princess-ibri]

So I've noticed you've found some very clever and downright brilliant ways to weave Sofia the First and its lore into your Disneyverse, which makes me wonder if you have any headcanons about what Sofia and the other child characters from the show might be like as teens and adult.

Thanks!! I'm glad you're enjoying them :) I'll admit I don't currently have any real story ideas for them apart from Sofia continuing her roles as the Storykeeper and as a Protector. But here's some designs for the Enchancia siblings as adults!

And adult Storykeeper Sofia

Actually, though I don't have any headcanons about Sofia's future I have had one about Enchancia's past for a while now. Basically I've decided in my DisneyVerse it was the home of the girl from the "Girl Without Hands" fairytale, who found sanctuary in the magic tree that would become the Secret Library, and her son, inspired by all she had to overcome, dedicates his life to ensuring as many happy endings as he can for others and becomes the first Storykeeper.

For those who don't know, The Girl Without Hands is a fairytale where a man sort of accidentally trades his daughter to the devil (in this it would be the demon Voland, a main background villain in my DisneyVerse). But since she's pure the devil can't take her, but through a series of unfortunate events due to him she ends up losing her hands :s (they'd probably be magiced off or something in this, but then again Disney has gone dark before, but either way no gruesomeness would be shown on screen).

The girl wanders for a while but comes under the care of an angel who helps her (a Windwalker in this version since they're the Everrealm version pretty much) and eventually causes her to meet a kind young king who falls love with her and makes hers her a pair of silver artificial hands.

They're happy for a few years until the King is called away to war and the Queen has her first child. At which point the devil comes back and makes trouble again thar causes them to be separated for several years, the queen forced to flee with her child far from the kingdom to save their lives. They end up under the care of the angel again, (lead by the Windwalker to the magical tree) and yeats later are reunited with the King who never stopped hoping they were still alive. And they live happily ever after.

(Added things in my version--the girl, named Manon, has her hair turn white after escaping Voland due to the trauma she's endured, and years later her son Sorrow (his actualname in the fairytale) ends up trapping Voland in a magical mirror, which is in fact the Magic Mirror that ends up in the Evil Queen's hands centuries later)

#asks #my art #disney #DisneyVerse #sofia the first #princess amber #prince james #enchancia #storykeeper #the girl without hands #brothers grimm #fairytales #magic mirror #voland #disney ocs #tw physical harm #tw physical violence #windwalker

[girlmachinezeph]

SO since so many voice lines are on WoWpedia I was possesed to make this. have fun my fellow sylvanas simps

#sylvanas windrunner #sylvanas #world of warcraft #victory for sylvanas #tw: violence #tw physical violence #tw sadism #banshee queen #audio splicing #is it really sentence mixing when all you did was order the already existing complete sentences?

[dying-weeds]

#vent #word art #song lyrics #mine #ventcore #actuallytraumatized #trauma #trauma vent #actually ptsd #traumacore vent #traumacore #tw physical violence #abuse tw #actuallyabused #lana del ray lyrics

[serickswrites]

Ringing

Warnings: physical violence, falling from a great height

Hero knew it was bad. Knew it was bad the moment that Villain threw them off the building. Knew it was bad the moment they hit the ground and they didn’t feel anything. Couldn’t sense anything. Couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in their ears.

They knew the fall wouldn’t kill them. Knew they were too indestructible for that. But they knew the pain would be bad.

Bad was an understatement.

As the wave of excruciating pain overwhelmed them, Hero could hear again. Could hear their wails of agony. Could hear Sidekick’s crying. And they could hear Villain’s laughter getting closer and closer.

“Pl-Please,” they begged through their sobs.

“Oh honey,” Villain smiled darkly, “I’m just getting started with you.”

#serickswrites #writeblr #tw physical violence #tw falling from a great height #hero #villain #sidekick #hero x sidekick #hero x villain #hero x villain community #queue

[levmada]

99% of the time Levi wakes up, he’s going to jolt and shoot a look around his surroundings, startled.

How could he have ever found a “safe” place to sleep in the underground? and when he did sleep, how often was he startled awake by commotion in the street, his own hunger or injuries, or a gun to his head … or a combination of those?

Kenny would never have let him “sleep in”. As a part of his training Levi was definitely taught to be alert 24 hours a day. Maybe he stuffed a pillow over his face each time Levi never sensed him coming in time, or threw him off of his thin, bare mattress on the floor.

He can’t sleep. But when he does sleep, he suffers no shortage of nightmares. How many of those chase him out of sleep anyway? When he wakes up, he’s always startled.

But there’s no shortage of suffering when he’s awake, either.

#sad feelings -> sad levi #levi will never find true peace. in this essay i will #levi hcs #levi ackerman hcs #levi ackerman angst #levi ackerman headcanons #levi drabble #levi.thoughts #tw physical violence #tw physical abuse #tw nightmares #tw gun mention

[sharkboywrites]

“Transmascs don’t get beaten like trans women do!” “Transmascs don’t get punished for cutting their hair like trans women do for growing it out!” “Transmascs don’t get raped like trans women do!” “Transmascs pass so easily unlike trans women do!” “Transmascs get respected so much unlike trans women do!” “Transmascs don’t have issues with their family like trans women do!” Okay so we’re just making shit up now?

#sharkboyrambles #trans #transmasc #trans man #trans ftm #ftm #trans awareness #trans issues #trans visibility #transmasc erasure #tw rape #Tw transphobia #tw beating #tw physical violence

[lostcybertronian]

"Stop worrying about it" with Darkstache?

Domaine de la Romanee-Conti is apparently a really expensive wine.

Trigger warnings for implied violence and dead body mention

---

Prompt: “Stop worrying about it.”

The day that Dark didn’t have to worry about dead bodies on set would be the day he’d become one himself, if only out of sheer relief.

Today was not that day. The fire alarm blared silently, all red lights and no sound, one of the only remnants of events transpired within the last hour. 

That, and the sheets, of course; they covered every corpse strewn about Wilford’s bubbly pink game-show set, lumpy and awkward. Someone would come around to take care of them. Dark usually delegated that task to Google, unwilling to get his hands or finely-tailored clothes bloody. Such dirty work was beneath him.

“Mr. Trimmer,” he greeted, as Bim stomped over, the shined heels of his dress shoes clicking across the concrete nearly in time with the flashing lights. “You needn’t worry,” he said before Bim could open his mouth, “you’ll get your pay this afternoon.”

Bim huffed, his face flushing red, but he nodded and hurried on toward the exit.

Dark lifted one hand and massaged the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as a migraine began to take shape in his left temple. One day. Couldn’t they go one day without a crisis?

“Ah, just the man I wanted to see.” Wilford appeared from backstage, brushing through the glittery curtains like a diva. His platform heels thunked over the equally glitter–coated linoleum tile making up the set floor. He maneuvered easily around the covered corpses, pausing every once and a while to get a good look at one. “Work is no time for naps.”

Dark aimed a glare that could’ve cut through stone, one that Wilford seemed entirely oblivious to. “What am I to do with you?”

“Wine, dine, and sixty-nine me.” Wilford waltzed over, flashing him a dazzling grin that must’ve charmed many a TV executive, one that Dark seemed entirely oblivious to. A mini-skirt swished around his upper thighs. Other than that, he wore his usual yellow shirt and suspenders. “I prefer Domaine de la Romanee-Conti.”

Dark crossed his arms. “Not for the mess you’ve made.”

Wilford, already taller than Dark without the platform heels, had to stoop to wrap one arm around Dark’s shoulders, steering him toward the neon “Exit” sign at the other end of the studio. “I’d stop worrying about it, if I were you. It’ll be sorted in no time.”

Dark bit out a laugh. "You'd be fucking dead without me."

#darkstache #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #markiplier egos #writersofmark #fanfiction #ego shipping #lostandwandering #my writing #humor #hurt/comfort #tw dead body #tw physical violence #writing prompts #asks #lovely anon

[furiousgoldfish]

(personal, detailed description of a traumatic experience, alters)

I talked about having an alter that prevents all anger I feel towards an abuser, in order to protect me, because they believe this abuser would kill me if I ever showed any anger towards them. I've been working on this and realized there was an event where this alter player a major role.

I don't remember how old I was, but I had to be a bit over 18, when this happened. There was a hostile atmosphere in the house, and I could feel it in the air, that father came home angry and was looking for a target. So, I made myself scarce, went outside and out of sight. However just a few minutes later, I heard my youngest sibling screaming.

Without thinking, I raced to them, found him attacking my sibling, and punched him in the face as hard as I could. He switched targets and attacked me instead, which was the point of it. Me punching him in the face did absolutely nothing to him, as he was both bigger and stronger, but I didn't care, I was enraged he would dare to attack my sibling, I would fight him to death. But, I couldn't.

He punched me back harder, and I fell to the floor, but I got up, raised my fist, and then froze. He was watching me in both rage and expectation, he was waiting for me to attack so he could return it double, but I couldn't do much more at that point, than hit him on the shoulder, at which he hit me in the head, and I fell down and couldn't get up.

I was paralyzed on the floor. I twitched and struggled to move, but I couldn't, something was keeping me completely immobile. The self hatred I felt was overwhelming. I wanted to fight him, I wanted to do as much damage as possible to him, I wanted him to pay for laying a hand on my sibling, I wanted him to know it would not be without consequences, I wanted to fight him to death. But instead, I was weakly lying on the floor, too weak to even move, terror sinking down into my bones, when I didn't want to be scared, I wanted to attack!

He left me lying on the floor without a second glance. Teenager lying motionless on the floor is not a good target. I lied there for a few minutes, unable to move, then somehow, I managed to crawl a few meters, my room was just around a corner, I was shaking badly with effort it took to just close the door, and then I fell back to the floor, and lied there paralyzed, for 6 hours.

Lying on the floor for 6 hours, hurts. I tried to at least switch positions a few times, but every small movement would end up in hyperventilation and loss of ability to breathe. I was filled both with self hatred for being this weak, this scared and this helpless, and terror that someone in the house was going to barge into my room, and realize that I cannot move, cannot do anything to defend myself, and then they'd kill me. I was praying that nobody finds me, nobody realizes just how vulnerable and open to attack I am at the moment, because if they did, I wouldn't be able to stop them. I was enraged with myself, and would have done anything just to be able to move, and fight, but it was all in vain, I couldn't move at all. At that point I already had ptsd and I knew what was going on was going to create a whole new trauma and I already tried to suppress it, pretend it wasn't happening, as if I could somehow will myself not to get affected by this. I was right too, from that moment on, I would become frozen in those moments, lying on the floor, without being able to do anything, waiting to see if I would be killed.

During the long 6 hours, I had time to think quite a bit, and I realized at one point, that this wasn't normal. It wasn't normal for me to be lying on the floor waiting to be killed, when I was in the house with my family, place where I should have been the safest. It would have been more normal for someone to be concerned that I can't move. I was scared that I would never be able to move again, and was contemplating how I would probably spend the rest of my life there on the floor, and how that would go for me.

My protective alter started joking around with me in order to ease my thoughts, which took me out of my trepidation. Nobody found me, nobody checked on me. After any event of violence towards me, my entire family would immediately shun me, to show that I was wrong, to show that they were all standing with the father, and absolutely detested me because it was my fault this violence occurred, and I had to be avoided, shamed, and ignored, until I somehow made it up to all of them. And in this case, it was extremely hard to argue against it; I did punch him in the face. There was no defense for me whatsoever and I knew it, this was very much provoked violence, he could have killed me and it would have been my fault for attacking him first. I know now, that it was fairly predictable what I would do, because I often put my body between him and my siblings, in order to protect them. If he attacked them, I would come running. He was almost summoning me. You know why he attacked my sibling? They didn't close a door. It wasn't a door that particularly needed to be closed. It was an excuse.

After 6 hours of lying on the floor motionless, I managed to shakily climb into my bed, where I fell unconscious almost immediately. I have no memories of anything that happened for the next month.

So why did I paralyze? I thought it was out of terror. Because this man did torture me, hit me, and almost kill me on multiple occasions. He was eager to kill me, and I could feel his murder intentions while fighting him. But I was also done, I didn't care if he killed me anymore. I was going in to fight him to death, I wanted to hurt him as much as possible even if it ended in my death. I think, that's why I paralyzed. If I had gotten up and punched him as hard as I could again, he would probably feel it was enough of an excuse to be able to kill me and get away with it. After all, I was coming at him, right? You can kill someone smaller and weaker if they keep attacking you, or so it felt inside of my head, since I was living in a world where that was normal, where attacking meant you are going to be killed and it was going to be your fault.

My small protective alter wasn't going to have me dead for anything. Even if I had wanted it. Paralyzed on the floor for 6 hours, hating myself to the extreme, feeling ashamed, weak, terrified, incapable of even any self defense, was still preferable than death to them. They were on a mission to protect my life and anything I experienced as a consequence was not that important to them. So they kept me paralyzed for as long as I was in any way capable of retaliating and attacking back. As long as I was angry and reckless, I needed to be stopped. Life needed to be preserved.

But for me, being reduced to that paralyzed self hating state was so traumatic, I ended up frozen in those moments, for a very long time, I think it took me over 10 years to get free of that. Whenever I would close my eyes, I would still be on that floor, unable to move and waiting to be killed. I think it triggered another past situation where I was also paralyzed, unable to run, and waiting to be killed, that was something that happened to me multiple times. So whatever else I was doing, a part of me was just waiting to be murdered and I couldn't relax or feel any relief, for a very long time. Thus my frustration with the alter, everyone knows torture is worse than death, and waiting to be killed is worse than death, except, for this very small alter who is determined to keep me alive consequences be damned.

Anyway, I don't regret what I did, in that situation I know I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't protect my sibling, even if I suffered for it extensively. My heart broke over and over when I realized my siblings thought that I was actually the rightful target for the violence and deserved it all. Even if they had to keep that belief up in order to be sure it 'couldn't happen to them' and 'it was only happening to me because I deserved it, and they were different so they were safe'. I don't care for their point of view anymore because in that point of view, I exist to absorb violence and don't have a point of view at all. I don't need to look at myself from such a perspective, nobody deserves that.

Writing this down makes things a bit easier for me, because I do often wonder why am I so different and messed up, but then when I'm seeing what happened to me, and what the circumstances of my survival were, like, yeah, of course, I would be weird and messed up if this was my normal, what can you expect? As someone who had to spend 10 years frozen in trauma of waiting to be killed by a family member, and got dehumanized by siblings who I was saving, what am I supposed to be like? I'm supposed to be okay about it all? I don't think so. If my world was that empty and glum it kinda makes sense I'm also very empty and glum. I don't have the warmth and love stored in me from years of being safe and protected and loved, I have experiences of being torn apart for fun, for entertainment, and then being seen as not human once I was experiencing pain. I'm not going to morph into a regular person after that, I'm going to be wary, fearful, untrusting, desperate for safety, as anyone would be.

#traumatic experiences #alters #paralyzing #protective alters #tw physical violence #physically fighting an abuser #trying to save a sibling #ptsd