#tw: sa mention

[fcthots]

“I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.” with protective upset and slightly unhinged jason would be so so good oh my god. like if something bad happens to reader and he has to get violent to defend her… yeah.

-🧸

You were on you way home, out later than you should have been, but your friend needed moral support after a breakup and you lost track of time.

Unfortunately while both you & Jason's apartment and your friend's were just off the edge of crime alley, your friend's apartment was on the opposite end of you and Jason. All of this is to say, unless you wanted to be out after midnight, you had to pass through crime alley after dark. It was just a five minute walk there, when daylight spared you of most of the dangers of Gotham, but it was pitch black now. You should have driven, but at the time it didn’t seem necessary.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You walked as fast as possible.

You didn’t even have a purse on you. Your phone was in the leather jacket Jason had bought you as a present and you had 20 dollars stuffed somewhere in your pant pockets.

Were you supposed to turn left here? Yeah, you recognize that streetlamp.

You would call Jason, but your phone is fucking dead and it's not like you were gonna ask your crying friend for a charger. And you didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you stepped outside with no way to get back into your friends apartment.

You were in the home stretch, just in the outskirts of crime alley. Almost freedom.

Never let it be said that you were lucky. All of your luck was used getting your hot ass boyfriend. Luck gone.

The man had a knife and was screaming for your wallet. Your wallet that you did not bring with you.

"Give me the wallet or I'm gonna spill your guts on the fucking ground!"

Just because your boyfriend was scary looking, did not mean you were used to scary men, especially ones that yelled at you. Your hands shook and you weren't sure what to do.

"I don’t have it. All I have is 20 dollars, please."

"That's a fucking lie. I see your jacket. I know that shit is expensive. Lie to me again and I'll slit your throat."

Fuck. If you had to guess, it would be Jason that would find your body. You didn’t want it to be Jason. He wouldn't be able to handle seeing your lifeless eyes. You know what it's like to look into your soulmates lifeless eyes and realize they're gone forever; you were hoping Jason would never have to experience that.

"It's-"

"Tough luck... I guess I could accept other forms of payment."

He bares his teeth in a grin as he sees the look on your face.

"Unless you'd prefer that no one ever finds your body?"

You're really glad you told Jason you loved him before he left for patrol.

The man starts getting closer to you. You can't talk, can't scream, can't think. You were gonna die alone.

You think you mumble out a 'please' before your back hits the wall. His knife was to your throat, but all you could think about was Jason.

There was a bang that you didn’t fully register. Before you could think twice about it, your mugger was on the ground. You didn’t move. You stayed, frozen, silent tears running down your cheeks.

"Shh, it's ok. You're ok. It's me."

You finally focused your eyes and saw the white lenses staring at you, his arms in the air.

You babbled nonsense. You couldn't breathe.

You tried to back away from the man on the floor, but you almost fell. You swore your legs were going to give out. Jason was at your side in less than a second. He lifted you over the bleeding body on the ground, supported your weight as your knees buckled.

He tucked your face into the crook of his neck and you choked on air.

"I've got you. Match my breaths, ok? Good. You're doing great. You're ok, I promise."

All you could manage to get out was his name.

"'M right here. Just breathe. Focus on that for me." His hand cradled the base of your neck.

Eventually you stopped crying. Eventually you could breathe again. Eventually Jason led your face away from his neck to look at you. Your whole body shook. You watched as he drew his hand up to his helmet and heard this hiss and click and he took it off. He took your jaw in one of his hands.

He wiped the splattered blood and tears off your cheeks with a gloved hand, traced the trail of fresh blood and broken skin on your neck from where the knife was pressed against you. “I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.”

You looked into his eyes as they flashed an inhuman green, and you believed him.

Bonus:

"Wait, Jay. Did you just happen to stumble across me?"

"There...may or may not be a tracker in the jacket I bought you... You were in one place for too long."

"I hate that that makes me feel safer."

He smiles apologetically. "I love you."

"I love you too."

#tw: sa mention #tw: sa threat #I am the angst queen #saph’s love letters #jason todd #jason todd x reader #saph’s thots #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x you #jason todd angst #jason todd x reader angst #red hood x reader angst #red hood angst #angst #🧸 anon

[bellamybellamyblake]

Violet Eyes, Red

Pairing:

rhysand x reader (pretty sure it's gender neutral - there might be a "she" i missed while referring to you from the original draft bc second person pov is not how i write)

Summary:

you and your mate reunite after feyre defeats amarantha and this is the fallout of what the bitch did to him.

Warnings:

aftermath of SA - i can't really tell if it's graphic which tells me it is, loose description of a panic attack, PTSD, please let me know if I missed anything. guys, please, if these topics are triggering for you, don't read this fic. i am not responsible for your media consumption, but i also don't want to throw you headfirst into your trauma.

Word Count:

2,140

A/N:

literally broke my own damn heart with this one. rhys' trauma is so ignored and that needed to be rectified. rhys might be my second favorite bat boy, but he's still a lil baby who needs to be protected

The human girl had beaten her - the woman of his nightmares - once and for all. At the first moment he could, Rhysand winnowed. After fifty years, he knew there was only one place he could go. After all, it was the last Sunday of the month, and that Sunday was the day he and his mate reserved just for themselves. The High Lord and Lady would not conduct any business on that day.

You'd spend most of your day on the balcony. You'd serenade him with the piano. You'd fly around Velaris - creating patterns in the air. You'd cradle each other in your arms. He'd sketch out a new drawing - trying and failing, in his opinion, to encapsulate your true beauty.

One day, he broke that promise, that vow you had made, and went to what he thought was a simple trade meeting. That morning was the last day he saw you, and he still couldn't live with himself.

Those memories alone kept him breathing at times. When Amarantha stole his bed, his body, his hope.

Then the human girl showed up, and he tried to help her. Wanted to give her what she needed to beat the beast he didn't think he'd ever escape. But he had lost the will to pray for it. To the cauldron, to the Mother Above. Despite his pessimism, she persevered. The girl had won. And then he was free.

He was on the balcony before he could even think about it. After a quick glance around, he realized it was empty. At first, he felt a pulse of disappointment, but with the realization of how long it'd been, he breathed deeply. How could he expect you to keep up the tradition? Fifty years of solitude on those Sundays would have made him mad if your roles were reversed.

At the thought, he allowed himself to feel the mating bond. It had gone cold the moment he winnowed away all those years ago, but now it was as beautiful as he remembered. The pull of another person at the end of a tether, forever binding them in the purest forms of fate.

But he heard your thoughts, and he almost broke down in sobs at the sound of your voice in his head. Please come home, my love. I don't know how to do this anymore. Please. The last word, you were begging. Your inner voice, the one he had to get used to living without, was broken. Pleading for him to return - despite everything you'd probably heard.

And with that, he took action, winnowing to every room in the house so he would find you as soon as possible. He knew you were close; your scent wasn't stale. It was fresh, clinging to every piece of furniture you owned together.

It was the last room he checked, his office, where he found you. You sat in his desk chair; the leather more worn than he remembered. But the sight of you stopped him from rushing to you. Nursing a bottle of wine, you slouched on your elbows, hands in your hair, as more thoughts streamed through the bond.

I'm losing myself, Rhys. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I can't let myself believe you won't come back because that- that will ruin me. What she's doing to you, what she's making you do. I don't even know a fraction of it, but I can't stop it. I- I can't protect you. And I hate myself for it. 

He was watching you as you sent the words down the bond, the bond that had been desolate for half a century. You run your hands down your face, not looking up from your wine, the third of many you planned to drown in.

Just get through it. Please just- just survive. Do what you have to do to come home. I'll be here. I love you. My mate.

You'd only allowed yourself to talk to him once a month. Initially, you would try to send him something every day. Thoughts, images, songs you'd learned, prayers for him. You never heard anything back, and it slowly started eating away at you. It shattered your hope every time you didn't get a response.

You'd heard the rumors, Amarantha's whore, he'd been called. Every time you heard it, it ate away at you more and more. As if he would choose that - choose to warm the bed of another when you were waiting for him at home. You knew him better than that, and you winced at the thought. He wouldn't choose it, but would she force him? Was she that much of a monster? 

You had to shake that thought away for the thousandth time that night, downing the rest of the glass. As you reach for the bottle, nearly empty at that point, a hand wraps around your wrist. The touch is gentle but firm - stopping you from drinking more, but not rough enough to hurt. Instead of startling at it, the wine slows your instincts. You can only stare. The tattoos on the dorsal side interweave into vines under the sleeve. Vines you know, vines that you've held, vines that have and will continue to have free rein of your body.

Faster than you thought you were capable of, your eyes flew to its owner's eyes. Violet. The most ravishing violet. Violet you'd feared you were forgetting.

With a new urgency, you pulled yourself to your feet, your hands flying up to his face without thinking. One on his cheek, the other on his neck, pushing, pulling, grabbing, unsure if it was your mind playing tricks on you.

In your desperate touch, you missed the way he flinched.

His hands. Mother Above, his beautiful hands were on your neck too, placed at the sides. When your mind would play you for a fool, it would never let you touch him, let alone allow him to reach you. But there he was, and you could feel him. You tugged at the bond, finally noticing it was warm and delicate and sweet and serene and everything you wished you knew how to describe. 

He breathed your name, barely a whisper. "I'm home, my darling. I'm home."

"You're here." The words barely escaped you, and you couldn't stop the tears. He didn't hesitate a moment, pulling you in for a frustratingly rare and fierce embrace. You clung to each other for dear life, tighter and tighter and tighter, like he'd disappear if you let him go. Frankly, you weren't convinced he wouldn't. "You're really here."

You stood like that for a while, holding each other, when he ultimately pulled away first. "Rh-Rhys, don't go-"

"I'm not," he promised, his voice raw, kissing your forehead. He took in every inch of your face. "I just wanted to look at you. My mate."

Since Rhys had been freed by the human girl, nothing had been normal. Not that you expected it to be, but you didn't anticipate just how awful a recovery for him would be. He couldn't share your bed, and you didn't mean that in a sexual manner. He couldn't sleep with anyone else in his room - if he had even been sleeping at all. He could barely stand to be touched. You knew he wanted to be able to let you, but every time you seemed to blink, he would flinch.

You had suspicions about what went on under the mountain, but you had no idea it would be so evil.

He stood before a cabinet, staring blankly into it, lost in a memory - a memory he'd been refusing to share. You understood why, but something in you told you that you needed to see. Not just for curiosity's sake but to know how to help him. Even if it was past your pay grade.

"Rhys," You called quietly for the second time. You didn't want to touch him, shock him back to reality. The fear of that setting him off more held you back. With a harsh and sudden breath, he fearfully glanced at you and around the room, forgetting where he was for a moment. "You're at home, Rhys. You came home."

"I'm sorry," He rasped, ignoring your words. His hands pulled at his hair, and you were nervous he'd start ripping it out. He backed away from you, so far away he was caught by the wall. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your own formed at the sight of his tears, but you couldn't conjure up what he'd have to apologize for. "It's okay, honey, you're safe. It's okay."

"I didn't- I didn't want it. I swear on my life, I didn't want to."

You shook your head, not understanding. But you knew asking what he was apologizing for was the wrong thing to do. You could see it, the shame, the regret, the blame. "I know you didn't."

He squeezed his eyes shut, buried his face in his hands, and sank to the floor. He kept murmuring apologies, pleading for your forgiveness. "I betrayed you, you have to- you have to leave me."

His words shocked you, and now you were the one that flinched. "Rhysand, look at me." He visibly shrunk at the command, pulling his hands away from his face. "As far as I'm concerned, anything that happened...there...is the furthest thing from your fault. I know there are things you can't tell me, and that's okay. I'll be here when you're ready-"

"I can't!" He bellowed. "You'll never forgive-"

"Show me the memory." You demanded, your voice quiet but assertive. But you wouldn't push too hard if he was adamant about keeping you out. You knew. You knew. Based on the way he had been acting, what had happened. But you also knew he needed to show you. So someone, fucking someone, would tell him it was out of his control. He couldn't govern everything, even if he was the High Lord of the Night Court. The words hurt as they left your lips. "Because I can promise you that I will."

You weren't a daemati, but you could see him battling with himself. Debating, if showing you what really happened, would bury him deeper under the surface or pull him back up for air.

Eventually, he released a rare sob and a barely audible "Okay."

He showed you the first time, how he just laid there like a statue as her hands took everything for herself. Then, the fifth time, when she started demanding he respond, pretend he wanted it. Then, the eleventh time, when his body started reacting. Then, by the next time, he had stopped keeping count.

He showed you, whether he meant to or not, how he prayed for it to end, prayed for someone to rescue him.

How he had been praying for you.

With the confirmation of your theory, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back the tears. The angry tears, wishing you could've been the one to rip her throat out. Tears that enraged you because that was not Tamlin's kill. Furious tears because that wasn't even your kill. Devastating tears because your mate not only had to play a character for so long, but he had to endure being called her whore. Like he had any fucking say. 

Overwhelming tears because your mate was in pain and there was shit all you could do about it.

"Can I touch you?" The question shocks him, but he nods without thinking, confused at the request. You slowly lift your hands to his cheeks, brushing away his tears with your thumbs. "There is nothing for me to forgive you for. I know you didn't want to do any of it."

"But I-"

"Bodies respond to stimulation whether it's wanted or not. It's how we work." You explained slowly and carefully, keeping direct eye contact. "You forget, sweetheart. I can hear your thoughts when you show me a memory."

"I've-" His voice caught, putting his hands on your wrists, rubbing them up and down your arms until they got hot. "I've been so scared. That it's still happening. That all of this is going to go away, that she's not really gone, that I'm not really here, and this is just another tactic-"

You shake your head, finally pulling yourself together to say what you've wanted to say for weeks. "I swear on my life that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. I will spend eternity protecting you from her and anyone like her. And if you forget that this is real, just ask me. I'll tell you."

His eyes darted between yours, furiously blinking. Violet eyes, red. Pleading craving begging praying.

"Is it?"

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #acomaf #acowar #acofas #rhysand #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #acotar fandom #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #acotar angst #tw: sa #tw: sa mention

[memes-saved-me]

I love bg3 for having the "sexy" flirty Vampire actually be severely insecure and uncomfortable with intimacy until he feels cared and loved enough to not use sex as a tool of manipulation but instead an act of affection and love.

I just really appreciate the detail of once you've successfully romanced him into a relationship there is no sex. Astarion has never done this before, he only has sex to get what he wants or in the past against his own wishes. So once he actually cares and loves someone he takes his time to connect the two and I love that. So when he (I've only ever kept him as a spawn btw) does initiate sex it's genuine, he's not hiding behind a mask of seduction, instead he's comfortable and happy. His arc (unascended) is truly beautiful.

Whether you see Astarion as asexual or simply sexually abused, he is so well written that it's upsetting seeing people dismiss his very real and human feelings towards sex and physical affection because they think he's hot. You missed the point.

#bg3 #astarion #bg3 spoilers #i guess lol #tw: sa mention

[out-of-the-forest-i-come]

I hate Riko as much as any aftg fan, and none of what I'm about to say changes that, but how much more difficult would he have been to hate if we knew what his childhood was like? we make fun of Neil's rant at the winter banquet because he verbally destroyed Riko, but do you ever stop and wonder how much of it rang true? Neil doesn't just insult people, he picks them apart because he can see exactly where the fractures are. 'always a commodity, never a human being'? that shit must have hurt so badly because it's true, isn't it? Riko is praised, has been since he was a child, but not for who he is. the love he's always received, the admiration and the fame, it's all conditional. and I'm sure that despite being the Raven King, the Nest wasn't easy on him either. we just didn't see that because Neil is an unreliable narrator. does that excuse what he did? the torture, and asking others to rape Jean, and breaking Kevin's hands? no, it doesn't. but it does make me wonder if he, too, was broken as a child. was he always this psychopathic or was it caused by trauma? was there once a child begging for someone to save him where Riko now stands?

#riko moriyama #aftg #the foxhole court #the raven king #the kings men #nora sakavic #aftg headcanon #out of the queue i come #out of the forest out of the brain #tw: sa mention

[chaoticace2005]

I’m sure someone somewhere has already pointed this out but Love Potion in Angel’s dressing room? Angel taking it for work (either forced to by Val, or to make things “easier”) canon? (I know I’ve read some fics where this idea has been brought up but I didn’t know that is was basically canon.)

#am I surprised? no not really cause Valentino SUCKS #but still #hazbin hotel #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #tw: valentino #tw: roofies #roofie #valentino hazbin hotel #tw: sa #tw: sa mention #hazbin hotel masquerade

[flower-boi16]

Hazbin Hotel: Makes an episode about the topic of SA and a characters struggles with it in a very serious matter and not played off as a joke

Also Hazbin Hotel:

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #tw: sa #tw: sa mention #flashing #flash warning

[junkdrawernoggin]

Thoughts regarding Astarion headcanons

I'm not going to say this right but this has been bothering me so I'll try my best

A kind request: Please do not speak ill of people for making sexual content with Astarion.

If you headcanon him as ace, that's valid. If you headcanon him as sex repulsed, that's valid. If you headcanon him as not engaging in sex because of his trauma, thats valid.

Just please keep in mind that an SA survivor healing and reclaiming their sexual autonomy is also a powerful and important story for some people. It is just as valid of an interpretation of Astarion's story.

I've seen some really weird posts lately that have said various things like romancing Astarion at all is breaking boundaries, that "pushing" for a sex scene with him is immoral, that writing any kind of fanfic that includes him having sex is inherently terrible.

I've been reading fics from both sides and they all have been fantastic interpretations of the character. Each camp uses Astarion to fill a hole in representation which is something we should always be excited for. A character that is widely relatable to different communities is a win.

Edited: took out personal junk

#bg3 astarion #astarion baldurs gate #astarion bg3 #astarion #astarion romance #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #tw: sex talk #tw: sa #tw: sa mention

[ankle-beez]

> debuts in the story by sexually assaulting the main character

> does nothing for the rest of her screentime

> leaves the story at the slightest inconvenience

#angel.post #chainsaw man #csm #csm spoilers #tw: sa mention

[ryan-waddell11]

tw: SA

okay so some thoughts overall about this weekend. I had heard this nasty rumor and didn’t want to comment until something was clarified. Although, nothing has been confirmed I felt it was important to comment on situations like this and how they can be avoided going forward.

Joseph, like all celebrities, is a PERSON. He is NOT your personal plaything. He is NOT yours to grab how you want. He is there because he enjoys meeting fans and spending time with them. That DOES NOT give you the right to grab him inappropriately.

If you wanted a hug, just ask him. If you wanted to put your hand on his stomach ask him. If you wanted any sort of pose (here it comes again) JUST ASK HIM. I understand being nervous but that gives you NO RIGHT to grab. If you’re too nervous to ask or think that something you do might make them uncomfortable, DONT do it.

STOP MAKING PEOPLE UNCOMFORTABLE JUST FOR YOUR SATISFACTION. IT’S WEIRD.

Things like this, make people not want to meet their fans because they’re afraid that it could happen again. So, not only are you ruining the experience for the talent, you’re ruining the possibility for other fans to meet their faves because you have no respect. How incredibly selfish of you.

This goes for telling them weird shit too. Respect is not a hard concept.

Please remember that he’s a human and NO ONE deserves to have a safe space they’ve created infringed or tampered with. The fact that he was so upset and had to stop says a lot.

Whoever did this, shame on you. This is utterly disgusting and heartbreaking. Respect people and their boundaries.

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #eddie munson stranger things #joe quinn #fan expo dallas #tw: sa mention #spreading awareness

[porunareff]

I know we’re all jumping head first into jojolands but I want to provide everyone with a trigger warning for a semi-graphic instance of sexual assault that takes place in chapter 1 - just be aware of it and stay safe.

#jojolands #so just a heads up #tw: sa mention #please spread this message if you can that caught me outta nowhere

[sarahsmi13s]

Bloodstained Sandbags

whumptober day 1 : bloody knuckles

pairing: eddie diaz x reader

characters: eddie diaz, fem!reader, christopher diaz, evan buckley, scott (oc)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, nightmares, panic attacks, crying, blood, disassociation, SA (not in vivid detail, but it is spoken about), language, caretaking, PTSD, resetting a dislocated shoulder, talks of therapy, mentions of underground fighting, please tell me if i missed any

word count: ~5.6k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: healing is draining and you're trying everything you can to stay afloat... can a new workout routine help keep you above water as you support eddie through his trauma while you work through your own?

You really thought that when Eddie started working at the dispatch center, things were going to get better for you. You thought you would sleep better, your nightmares fading away as you always had your protector next to you now. You were safe, no one could hurt you with Eddie at your side.

But it didn’t seem to matter, because you couldn’t close your eyes without being back in that damn break room – the break room you no longer set foot in.

It was like even though you knew you were safe with Eddie… a sick, twisted part of you kept reminding you that Eddie wouldn’t always be there to protect you.

And the thing was, Eddie had no idea. 

No idea that you were struggling. That for months you were feeling sick to your stomach everytime you got up to get ready for work. That you wanted his touch but had a mini panic attack every time he touched you when you weren’t expecting it.

But he had no idea what happened to you either. You were afraid to tell him. Afraid he’d leave you, though logically you knew he would never do that. 

Except there wasn’t a good time to tell him, either. He was having a hard time with his PTSD and you were doing the best you could to help him while also trying to keep yourself above water.

Which is why you started going to the gym… The sweating, the adrenaline, all of it just made you feel stronger.

And that’s where you picked up on learning to fight, you wanted to be ready. Ready to protect yourself or Christopher if the situation presented itself and Eddie wasn’t around.

You sighed as you walked into yours and Eddie’s apartment, your body stiff and sore from your workout. You managed to scrape your knuckles just a little bit too but it wasn’t too noticeable.

You hung your purse up and set your gym bag down. “Eddie? Chris?”

You heard Eddie’s voice come from the kitchen. “We’re in here, Honey!” 

You smiled and walked into the kitchen, seeing them at the table. “How are my boys?” You went over and kissed them both on the head, “I’m sorry if I made you wait, I got really in the zone at the gym and the traffic was a monster.” 

“Oh it’s no problem, I was just getting started on the veggies. Why don’t you go shower and it should be ready by the time you're done,” Eddie said as he stood and kissed the side of your head before returning to cutting the vegetables. 

You nodded at him before ruffling Chris’s hair, “Do you have any homework you need help with?” He nodded, “Yeah, math stuff.” “Alrighty, I’ll help you after dinner, okay?” “Okay.”

Smiling, you kissed his head again before going to take a shower.

Once you went into the bathroom, you were all too ready to peel the sweaty gym clothes off of you.

Your leggings peeled off with a wet sound, and if someone heard it they would have thought that you jumped into the ocean with your clothes on. The collar of your cutout t-shirt was soaked enough that you could ring it out. Your sports bra was practically the same way.

“I went way harder than I thought…” you mumbled to yourself as you dropped your clothes into a pile and checked the temperature of your shower.

Scalding hot, just like you liked it.

You stepped under the water, wincing slightly at the initial bite of the heat on your skin. But as you stood there under the water both the heat and pressure seemed to massage your muscles, allowing you to relax.

The shower was the only way you could get a massage, it was the only place you allowed yourself to feel vulnerable.

And you never went to a masseuse at all because Eddie was enough. But now, after everything that happened, the idea of being pinned under someone with your back exposed and their hands on you like that could send you into a panic attack.

He had tried once after he started his therapy sessions, realizing he had been neglecting you and wanted to help you work out the soreness of your muscles. 

But you were fighting a panic attack the whole time. You had to hold a conversation with him and ask him to not put his full weight on you. He cooperated without question of course and then you sat and chatted about your day.

Though you haven’t let him do it since, fearing that you would be able to hold it together and freak out on him.

Showers were your source of muscle relaxation. So that’s why you stood there, water pressure on pulse and heat turned up to hell.

When you felt satisfied, you turned the temperature down and finished your shower, ending with a cold rinse just to soothe your skin before getting out and getting dressed in a pair of shorts and one of Eddie’s shirts then joining the boys for dinner.

Eddie watched you wash dishes with a smile on his face as he leaned against the fridge.

He had cleaned out the sink, putting plates, bowls, utensils, and cups into the dishwasher while you were helping Chris with homework. But now you were working on pots and pans because they just didn’t fit in the dishwasher with the other things, often needing to be washed separately – and that took too long for your liking.

So after getting Chris settled down in his room, Eddie came back to watch you, wanting to spend alone time with you since you rarely got that lately. 

Not that he was necessarily mad about it, he respected boundaries when and where you set them – no questions asked.

But he was pulled to action when he heard you wince, taking a step and a half to meet you as you turned for a towel.

“What happened?” Eddie asked, holding your hand as you dabbed it dry, wincing as you did so.

You shook your head, not answering him as you took the towel away to blow on the raw skin of your busted knuckles. You had gotten lemon juice and salt on them from cleaning the cutting board you had used this morning, and it hurt like a bitch.

Eddie froze for a second. Where had you gotten bruised and scraped up knuckles from? You hadn’t had those this morning…

In a quick scan, he checked you over for injuries. If you had a bruised cheekbone or black-eye that he somehow missed during dinner. But you were clean, so he could cross fight off the list. 

“Nena… what happened?” 

His voice was gentle as he took the towel away from you and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. He was worried, because last time he started coming home with busted knuckles he was underground fighting…

But you wouldn’t do that? Would you?

“I was at the gym and I scraped it, not a big deal.”

He nodded and rubbed his thumb gently over it. “Let me finish the dishes.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Eddie was going to finish the dishes, and he wasn’t going to argue.

You sighed and moved out of the way, letting him take over but you didn’t leave and instead wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back. After your day at work and then going so hard at the gym, you need this comfort. The domesticity of it all, the safety of it all.

Over the next few weeks things seemed to be getting a little better. Sure, you were still having nightmares and coming home with slightly bruised knuckles but Eddie’s surprise touches didn’t spook you anymore. You were also considering becoming more intimate with Eddie again as he seemed to be doing better as well and was seeking out the contact again. 

Things were just slowly coming back to normal, well as normal as the could be, but things were getting better

But then something happened at work, and it set all of your progress back.

You were walking to your desk from the supply closet with more file folders, since you were doing some re-organizing and needed new ones, when you bumped into someone.

They caught you before you fell, steadying you with their hands on your waist. Huffing out a surprised laugh, you looked up to thank them but you nearly choked on air when you saw whose hands were on you.

Panic shot through you like lightning and you put distance between you and Scott immediately, not caring if it was rude or not.

“Woah, Y/N, you okay?” He asked, but the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips told you that he knew the answer. 

How could you be okay? After not seeing him that up close for months, then all of a sudden his hands are on you again and you’re back to being the weak little girl you were in the break room that night.

“S-S-Scott, I-I thought you were um late shift?” You stuttered, your eyes looking for escapes to your desk in your periphery. 

He put a hand in his pocket nonchalantly, attempting to lure you into a false sense of security, that that side of his body was safe to escape through – it wasn’t.

“Oh, I am, but I decided to come in on a Saturday. I needed another day on my paycheck since I took a day off this week.” 

You nodded, jaw setting and grinding your back teeth together as you tried to avoid looking at his face. “I see. Well Scott, if you’ll excuse me I need to get… get back to my desk.” You cursed yourself for starting so confident but then losing it as the breath just slowly got pulled from your lungs.

Scott just smirked. He could see the fear in your eyes and the cottonmouth you were getting just being in his presence. He thrived on it, knowing that corporate wasn’t going to follow up on the claim you made to HR and that you weren’t in a great position to quit so you had to stay for just a little longer.

But he just caught you one unlucky night where you had to stay late to finish a project, considering you didn’t work the night hours because you usually needed to be home with Chris because Eddie was working a shift. The one time Buck was off you took advantage of it and stayed late to catch up. 

And you haven’t stayed late since…

“Oh, by all means, don’t let me stop you, I was just on my way to get some coffee.”

You were trying so hard not to clam up and just bolt to your desk and pack up. But you calmly nodded and just squatted down to pick up the folders you dropped.

You hated having your back to him and your hands shook furiously as you collected the pale yellow folders.

“You look like you could use a break, why don’t you join me?” Scott’s voice was right in your ear. It was low and raspy as his hand gripped your shoulder.

Trying your best to just shrug it off, you shook your head. “No, I’m alright. I need to get back to work.”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “I insist.” His voice was demanding as his fingers curled around your joint and dug into your collarbone. 

Instantly your arm shot up and pushed him off you. “I said no.”

You scooped up the remaining folders and dignity and went toward your desk. Just to have fingers curled around your wrist and pulling you back into a hard chest. 

“I’m trying to be nice and you’re being a bitch.”

Rolling your lips between your teeth, you tried to yank your wrist away – twisting and pulling at his grip to get him to let go. “You just don’t know how to understand the word ‘no’. I don’t want coffee, I just want to go to my desk.”

You swallowed, finally looking in his eyes, shredding any last dignity you had. “Please Scott… you got what you wanted, just leave me alone… please…”

The canines he bared as he smiled wide made you sick to your stomach, but as he opened his mouth to speak his attention was pulled away and you took that chance to free yourself. You twisted your wrist and pushed the files into his chest before booking it to your desk.

After gathering your things and rushing to your manager’s office, pleading to her with shaky hands as you told her something had happened and you needed to get home to Chris.

She immediately let you leave, not questioning it as you thanked her and ran out to your car.

The drive home was a total blur, taking the turns on auto pilot as you tried not to break down before you were in the safety of your own home and not risking anyone else’s safety.

And when you finally got home, you were booking it to the fridge to get a cold water bottle to maybe shock your system into calming down. But in your haste you missed the fact that Buck and Chris are home, and not out at the aquarium like you thought they were.

Buck had heard you come in and watched you nearly trip over yourself to get to the kitchen, abandoning your purse and keys on the floor.

Chris had seen it too and looked at Buck concerned, having never once seen you like this. “Buck?” Buck ruffled Chris’s hair, “I’ll go see what’s up. You stay here okay?” Chris just nodded and watched Buck get up and go to the kitchen.

Buck went to the kitchen, finding you chugging the cold water as you white knuckled the counter.

“Y/N? You’re home early.”

The way you jumped, hand clenching around the bottle so hard that water shot out of it – it would have been comical had the dilated look in your wide eyes not set off alarm bells in Buck’s head. 

You watched, caught like a deer in headlights, as concern washed over Buck’s face and filled his eyes with pity. Immediately your back was turned to him, shielding your breaking resolve from his helping hand. 

With the blood pounding in your ears, you missed his approach until he was touching you. You jerked again under his touch, weakly muttering out, “P-please don’t touch me.” 

Buck’s heart sank. He had never heard you sound like this before… so broken…

It sent him back to the night Eddie had destroyed your room in a fit of helplessness, how terrified his best friend was. How you sat with Eddie, him now remembering your bruised knuckles encasing Eddie’s in an act of comfort.

“Y/N… what happened? What’s wrong?”

“No-nothing, just-just…”

He tried to turn you and get you to face him, to get a read on your face and figure out what to do. But you yelped and pushed him back, sending his stunned 6’2” frame into the table.

“Buck you need to leave…”

“Y/N-”

“Leave Evan!”

Buck swallowed, trying not to be hurt as he turned on his heel and went to say goodbye to Christopher.

You watched him leave the kitchen, your ears hot and tingling as you looked at the mess you made. You needed to clean it up before Chris came in here and slipped.

Hearing Buck close the front door, you carefully made your way to the laundry room to get a dirty bath towel to clean it up. Your vision tunneled, your ears rang and you felt that sick snag in your chest as the air was stopping half way down your throat.

By the time you get there your legs can barely hold you up as you get to the washer and sink down to the floor. Sobs are wracking your chest and you can only pray Chris can’t hear you.

But your prayers went unanswered, because Chris can hear you and he is scared. 

Your broken sobs and ragged breathing are reminding him of the night Eddie punched those holes in the wall… and the night you came home and took a long shower thinking Chris was asleep and couldn’t hear you crying through the wall.

Chris abandoned the video game in front of him and put himself on a mission to find you. He could follow the sound of your cries to where you were sitting on the cold floor, head between your knees as you tried to breathe regularly.

“Y/N?” He gently called out, hoping you could hear him.

He watched you thread your hands in your hair and pull at the roots, sucking in jagged breaths just for them to be forced out with the next sob.

He didn’t like seeing you like this and he hated that he wasn’t sure how to help. But he knew he had to try.

Chris called out your name again as he approached you, not wanting to scare you and send you further into your panic. You must have recognized his voice because you seemed to calm down just a bit. He sat down on the floor next to you and put his hands on yours on top of your head. 

“You’re safe, it’s okay, Y/N. I’m here.” He recalled the phrases you had repeated to him when he was having trouble after the tsunami. He had to pull from what he was shown, he had barely anything to go off of and he just had to hope that it was enough.

With Chris putting his hands on yours, talking to you gently, you could feel yourself slowly calming down. His hands were so drastically different from the ones that had bruised your skin, that it managed to remind you that you were home and that you were safe.

“Please, Y/N…”

You look up at him slowly, your hands letting go of your hair and holding his hands. “It’s okay, you’re safe.” Chris moved your hands to his face, hoping that it can help to ground you.

Your thumbs immediately began to rub back and forth on his cheeks, him taking deep breaths to help you find a rhythm. “Follow me, Y/N. Just like you tell me…” 

Chris watched the fog clear from your eyes as you began to calm down and lean forward to press a kiss to his head as a thank you before resting your forehead on his. He wrapped his arms around you as best he could and you pulled him into your lap, your head falling to his shoulder.

You sat there for a bit in silence, rubbing Chris’s back as you managed to collect yourself.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Chris. I didn’t mean to,” you apologized, breaking the silence. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft and gentle as he pulled back a little. You’re nodding immediately, “I’m better now, thank you buddy.” 

“Do I need to call Dad?” 

You shook your head, “No, it’s okay. I’ll be alright.”

He nodded before tilting his head a little, “Why are you mad at Buck? Did he do something bad?” 

Your heart sank. He had heard you yell at Buck, and you hardly ever yelled around Chris – if ever. And now you’ve come home early, yelled at one of your best friends, and had a full blown panic attack with Christopher as a witness.

“Oh Chris… Buck didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have yelled at him. I’m not mad.”

“Why did you yell at him?”

“I was just feeling a lot of things and it was just what happened. I could have handled it better and I will in the future,” you said gently as you pushed some of his curls back.

You sniffled a little bit, “Why don’t you go back to the living room and I’ll make you some lunch after I get changed?” You gave him the best smile you could and kissed his forehead after he nodded.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Eddie had come home around 5:30 to you already finishing up on getting dinner ready. 

“Honey? What are you doing home?”

“Oh, I got the stuff I need to get done early so I decided to just come home,” you said nonchalantly with a shrug. 

He smiled and came up behind you to kiss your cheek before he went to get changed. But as he placed his hand on the small of your back, you jumped. 

Eddie’s brow furrowed, you had never reacted like that to him. But he didn’t get to ask you, because you turned your head and planted a kiss on his lips. “I love you, Eddie.” He smiled softly and kissed your forehead, “I love you too, Y/N.”

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his shoulder, smelling his coffee and whiskey body spray. He hugged you back, albeit a little confused, but he could tell you needed this.

After a few moments, you pulled back, “Go get changed and cleaned up, I’ll have it plated for you by the time you get back.” He nodded and kissed your temple, “Yes ma’am.”

You smiled and pecked his jaw before he went to change.

When he came back, Eddie found you and Chris at the table, his plate made up for him just like you said it would be.

“It looks fantastic, Honey, thank you,” he said, announcing his presence before touching your shoulder and kissing the top of your head. You smiled at him, “Of course, Sweetheart.” He sat down next to you, his hand on your thigh, just resting there as you ate. 

You talked about his day and everything that went on – you having been getting his twitter notifications and just wanted a little more detail.

But when he turned and asked you about your day, you clammed up and just told him it was like any other day, you just skipped the gym today because you wanted to surprise him with dinner. And you left it at that, leaving no more room for conversation about your day.

After dinner you all went to the living room to watch movies before Chris went to bed. It was your weekend routine.

Except tonight you broke routine.

You decided that you wanted to go ahead and go to the gym, just to get a small workout in before you went to bed. So, after you did the dishes you got in your gym clothes and gave Chris a hug and Eddie a quick kiss before leaving.

It had all happened so quickly that Eddie didn’t get a chance to really slow you down and ask you what was up. This behavior was just so off to him that he just wanted an explanation.

And he did… just not from you.

After you lifted weights for God knows how long, you finally went over to the punching bag.

You had been on autopilot the moment you left the house. 

And yeah, you felt bad for just leaving Eddie hanging like that. Giving him no explanation other than you just wanted to. But you had been thrumming since your panic attack, using that energy on deep cleaning and laundry — too on edge to rest or sit still.

You needed an aggressive outlet for all that energy, you had to get to the gym.

So that’s where you’ve been. Lifting weights and running until near collapse. 

Now you were hastily wrapping your hands to take it all out on the punching bag. The poor inanimate object becoming the true outlet of your emotions, taking blow after blow as you wail on it. Your emotions from earlier in the day being released in the form of punches. 

You hated that Scott was able to revert you back to the scared girl you were that night, smothering all the progress you had thought you made.

The swinging sandbag in front of you felt like a wall as you hit it with every you had. Flashes of that night played behind your closed lids as you seemingly lost control.

You could feel his hands on you again, touching you with evil intentions. His hands mocked Eddie, tainted the loving touch of your boyfriend with his greediness. 

Your hips digging into the counter, bruised with the force of Scott pinning you in place. You couldn’t escape, you didn’t know how to escape.

With each moment flashing, each ghostly touch reminding you of what he did to you in the break room, you punched harder — oblivious to the pain shooting up your arm with each solid hit.

You couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. 

You just wanted it all to go away.

And in those moments you didn’t feel the tears running down your cheeks, you were numb. You hadn’t noticed the break in your poorly wrapped tape, which allowed your bare knuckles to meet with the canvas bag.

The tears and dissociation blurred your vision and you were blind to the fact the red spots and streaks covering the rough beige fabric was your own blood.

You had broken the skin on your knuckles, staining the sandbag with your blood as tears stained your cheeks.

But when you land a particularly hard punch and your shoulder pops grotesquely next to your ear do you snap out of it.

“Oh fuck!”

Your curse was picked up by a nearby girl who had come in at the same time as you.

“Oh my goodness! Are you okay?!”

Your head whipped up to look at her and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. 

You didn’t look good, covered head to toe in red splotches and sweat. You looked down at your knuckles and saw that your tape was practically non-existent and your hand was covered in crimson.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?”

You blinked and looked at the girl. “Yeah… yes yes I’m fine. I just… I need to go home. My boyfriend is probably worried.”

“Are you sure? That crack sounded bad…”

“Thank you for your concern but I’m alright. You have a good night and be safe, please.”

She could only nod as you quickly grabbed your bag and went out to your car.

You knew you’d be driving with just one arm and you really didn’t want to deal with an midnight ER on a Saturday night so you went straight home — knowing that you’d need Eddie.

Eddie sat in the living room, his knee bouncing with nerves as he waited for you to get home.

You hadn’t answered your phone and he was starting to get worried. With his line of work, he was already thinking the worst. Did you get into an accident? Did you get taken? He had his radio on the coffee table listening closely while he waited, hoping that he didn’t hear anything related to you come over the device.

Then he heard it. The front door opening and closing followed by keys in the bowl and a bag hitting the floor.

You were home, so at least there’s that relief.

He looked up and over as you walked by, arm cradling the other as you sniffled.

“Chris was worried about you.”

Eddie watched you tense, but you didn’t turn to face him.

He stood walking over to you. “He told me you had a panic attack when you came home today, you know, after you yelled at Buck to leave. Then you weren’t here when he went to bed. He knows something is wrong, and he’s worried it’s his fault.”

That made you turn, allowing Eddie to see the rush of tears on your face as you still cradled your arm.

“No, God no. This is nowhere near Chris’s fault.” Your voice was thick with emotion as you spoke and the realization dawned on you that you would have to tell Eddie everything.

“Did I do something? Because I thought we talked about things and worked things out. If I did, please tell me… I want to fix it… I can’t lose you…”

“Oh Eddie…”

“Please mi vida…” Eddie’s voice was soft and low as he rubbed your arms.

You covered your mouth, attempting to conceal the sob of pain and regret. But you couldn’t hide the small yelp or your bloody fist.

Concerned, Eddie put his hands on your shoulders, freezing when he felt the slipped ball and socket joint and you sobbed into your hand.

“Sweetheart?”

“Fix it… please, it hurts so bad…”

Eddie nodded and carefully got himself into position, “You ready?” “Just do i- AH!” Mid sentence, Eddie popped your shoulder back into place.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he soothed as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Eddie… I’m so sorry…”

He ran a hand through the hair at the back of your head, “Hey, lets get your hands cleaned up okay? Then we’ll talk, yeah?”

You nodded before stepping back, instinctively wiping your face with the back of your hand — smearing a little blood on your face.

Eddie tensed a little, that was the worst he’s seen your knuckles and it was starting to look suspicious to him. But you had come home the other times with no other injuries so he had no reason to question you about it.

But he could see clearly that something was wrong. Very wrong.

Eddie gently grabbed your hand and took you to the kitchen.

Without a word he sat you on the counter and grabbed the med kit from under the sink. 

You both stayed quiet as he dampened a towel and  cleaned you up, he inspected for tenderness and any signs of trauma to your hands other than the obvious.

Once he was done, you both sat in silence for a moment before you spoke up.

“It’s not what it may look like…”

“Oh yeah? Cause it looks like you’ve been fighting. I've seen the bruises on your knuckles but I don’t say anything because I didn’t want to assume. But after today I don’t know what to think.”

Your eyes fill with tears and you shake your head. “That’s not it, I swear. It’s just…” A weight settled on your chest as you realized this was the moment you would have to tell him and possibly change your relationship forever.

“Honey… please talk to me, I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you.”

And with that the damn was broken and you sobbed into your hands.

Eddie gave you a moment to calm down, comforting you as best he could until you were ready.

Once you were composed, you spilled everything.

From you needing to stay late to you going to the break room for a snack to when Scott walked in and shoved your dignity in the paper shredder.

Eddie was listening intently, his rage rising in his body but he tried not to show it and keep a gentle expression for your sake. 

But hearing you, here and now, sounding so ashamed and scared. Recounting the night in detail. 

And he had been so caught up in the job change that he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t noticed that the love of his life was suffering because he wasn’t there. 

It wasn’t until his son came to him that he noticed something was wrong. 

“Eddie, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry,” you sobbed, clinging onto him. “It didn’t… I didn’t want it, please you have to believe me.”

He felt his heart shatter in his chest. 

You were begging for forgiveness for something that wasn’t your fault. 

“I believe you Sweetheart, I believe you.” 

He pulled back a little, “I-Is this why you’ve been going to the gym?” You nodded, whimpering a little as more tears filled your eyes, “You won’t always be there… and I just… I want to be ready to protect myself or Christopher.”

You held your hand up and flexed it a little, “I saw Scott for the first time since that night today at work, that’s why I had the panic attack. And I needed an outlet, I didn’t know I was bleeding until I dislocated my shoulder.”

Eddie wiped your eyes, “Y/N I’m so sorry I never noticed… I should have been there…” You shake your head, “I didn’t tell you Eddie, you were going through a lot and I didn’t want to add on…”

He frowned a little but kissed your forehead. It made him feel awful that you thought you couldn’t come to him. You were processing something alone while helping him get better and that wasn’t fair. 

“Would you be willing to go to a professional about this? For you and for us? Just so we can learn to get through this together,” he laced your fingers together and kissed your knuckles. 

You nodded and pressed your forehead to his, “I want to try.” You brought in a breath, “I have to quit my job…” 

He hummed and nodded against you, “Please quit, I make enough, we'll be okay. And we can pull from savings if we need to.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie nudged your nose with his, “I love you, so much.” 

You smiled softly and flattened your palm over his heart, “I love you too, Eds. So so much.”

He wrapped you in his arms and just held you there. Planting gentle kisses to your head and whispering little jokes in your ear to make you laugh.

And that’s when you knew that it would all be okay, that it would be better. Maybe not tomorrow, but someday.

As long as you had Eddie, you would be okay.

taglists: @bradleybeachbabe @valmare @fanboyswhore9 @cassiemitchell @startrekfangirl2233

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

#vinny's whumptober #9 1 1 #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz #tw: sa #tw: sa mention #tw: blood #whumptober 2023 #ailesswhumptober2023 #whumptober day 1 #eddie diaz 911 #eddie diaz fic #eddie diaz whump #angst #vinny's rainy day records #edmundo diaz #edmundo eddie diaz #christopher diaz #911 eddie #callsign vintage #sarahsmi13s

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Tears on Yujing Terrace

Summary: You watch Liyue Harbor from Yujing terrace after a nightmare. Zhongli comes to comfort you.

CW: hurt/comfort, references to SA, nothing graphic but people sensitive to that may want to skip this one, pet names (loveling, little gem, my gem)

Word Count: 764

Pairings: Zhongli x gn!reader

Requests and Asks are OPEN

You are cold, despite it being the middle of summer and far south of Snezhnaya. The lanterns that line the street shine in soft yellows, oranges, and reds, but as is often the case on nights like tonight, the warm glow does nothing to chase away the shadows of your recent dreams. 

Even this late at night, Liyue Harbor teems with life. And yet, you find that no crowd can break through the loneliness that cloaks you like a second skin.

And so you don't bother to try. 

You make your way to Yujing terrace, returning a guard’s greeting with a tense smile when you pass through its gate. The Millelith assigned to the terrace have long since memorized your name and face, and have often served to ward off any unwanted company.

You cross Yujing Terrace, taking your usual place at the far edge.

From this vantage point, you can see half the city, the people there seeming so small, so far away.

You stand in silence, listening to the wind coming off the ocean while you chase your thoughts in endless circles.

Eventually you hear a familiar pair of footsteps approach you.

“Y/n?”

You turn to find a pair of molten gold eyes, glowing with gentle intensity. “Zhongli? Why are you here?”

“Why would I not be here? I woke up and you were not there. Why did you not wake me, loveling? Do you not wish for my company tonight?”

You shrug, wrapping an arm around yourself. “It’s not that. Tonight has been a bad night. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Zhongli sighs, coming to stand next to you. “My gem, helping you through a bad night is never a bother. Will you allow me to stay?”

Your thoughts turn to the nightmare that drove you out of your shared home and the cold that has surrounded you since you left deepens. “Please. I really don’t want to be alone.”

Zhongli steps closer and you lean into him, letting his embrace warm you.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter.

“Whatever for?”

“Not waking you. I know it worries you when I do this.”

Zhongli runs his fingers through your hair. “I know the kind of torments your subconscious mind conjures. I would not leave anyone to suffer them, least of all you. I will listen if you want to tell me about it.”

You stiffen in Zhongli’s arms.

“If not, that is fine as well,” he assures you. “I promised you that first night that I would not force you to talk about your nightmares, but I will always listen when you do.”

“I just… it was one of the really bad ones. It wasn't the kind that scares me, but the kind that haunts me for hours after I wake up. Even if I push it away and think about my work for today, as soon as my mind drifts I remember. I don’t want to remember.”

As you speak, tears spill down your face, soaking Zhongli’s nightshirt.

The adeptus sighs, pulling you closer. “If I could banish these nightmares, I would. I do not like seeing you suffer.”

“I think… I should probably tell you about it.”

“It may help, love.”

You tell Zhongli of your dream slowly, halting over your words. When you’re done you’re nearly sobbing. “I don’t know what was worse, seeing the girls and the anger I felt, or being left behind. Alone. Unable to act against that bastard, but also vulnerable. Now that I think about it, I was left alone and had that guy wanted to do to me what he did to the girls…”

Zhongli rests his cheek on your head. “Next time, my love, please wake me. I cannot keep the nightmares away, but I can comfort you after.”

“You do keep them away, some,” you admit. “Usually when I’m as stressed as I’ve been, they’re nearly nightly.”

“And yet you still have ones like this one.”

You shrug. “Sometimes they can’t be helped. I’ve seen what you look like after yours.”

“Mine don’t happen nearly as often, my love.”

“They still happen.”

You fall silent, listening to the steady thump-thump of Zhongli’s heart, letting it ground you.

After several long minutes you pull away and lace your finger together. “Can we go home now?”

“Of course, little gem. Let us go home. Do you want to go back to bed, or would you rather I make tea first?”

“Tea first, please.”

“Consider it done.”

The two of you leave Yujing Terrace, unaware of the smiles the Millelith send your way.

#I wanted to write Zhongli having a nightmare #And I probably will eventually #But it turns out it's Zhongli's turn to be the comfort character #Zhongli x reader #Zhongli x gn!reader #tw: sa mention #genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin writing #genshin #genshin hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

[derseprinceoftbd]

Full disclosure: I actually read an interview from an r/hobbydrama post detailing Muir's history of abuse and her writing dealing with it before I was even interested in this series, when all I knew her for was Promstuck and other such JohnKats. I'd like to know thoughts on whether the whole, y'know, *Annabel Lee* thing was evident from reading to someone who didn't have that context, and when.

#the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #tamsyn muir #urbananchorite #tw: sa mention

[shizucheese]

So you know how there are some people who like to attack/ vilify those who don't like Lae'zel and they try to paint it as a sexism thing or claim it's "because she's not conventionally attractive" or w/e and then bring up Astarion and Shadowheart "because they're racist too" in the same breath? I think I had a bit of an epiphany on this that needs to be shared. Putting content warnings here as well as in the tags just to make sure we're thoroughly covered: references to trama, physical and verbal abuse, SA, toxic family dynamics, religious trauma, and religious zealotry ahead. Also note that this doesn't just apply to people whose favorite character is Astarion and/ or Shadowheart, I'm just focusing on them since they're the ones people complaining about people not liking Lae'zel always bring up.

Okay, now with all that out of the way... I think the people who complain about people not liking Lae'zel but liking Astarion and Shadowheart and fixating on the whole "but they're racist too" argument miss some pretty major points regarding why a lot of people like Astarion and Shadowheart and how the way Lae'zel treats you in Act 1 is a major factor. A lot of people like Astarion and Shadowheart because on some level, they relate to them. Maybe they came from a household where one or more adult was abusive (physically or verbally), narcissistic, overbearing and/ or controlling. Or maybe it was a friend or romantic partner, or more than one, who used them and abused them and treated them like dirt. Or maybe they're an SA survivor. Or maybe they have religious trauma, and maybe that religious trauma is exacerbated by the fact that they have people in their lives who refuse to change their views, or even double down on them, even when shown evidence that contradicts their beliefs. Or maybe it's some combination of these.

Even the reasons why Astarion doesn't like the Gur and Shadowheart doesn't like Githyanki is steeped in trauma: it was a group of Gur beating Astarion nearly to death that lead to him being tricked by Cazador into becoming his spawn (and if he hadn't been turned into a vampire, he would have died), and Shadowheart makes multiple references to the fact that she saw githaynki cut down her comrades during her mission with some serious brutality.

A lot of these people who identify with Astarion and Shadowheart because of their own past traumas have promised themselves that they're never going to let anyone teat them that way, speak to them that way, try to control them, act like they own them, etc. etc. ever again. I know that's what happened to me. Now let's look at how Lae'zel treats you in Act 1, shall we? She's verbally abusive. When you try to talk to her, she simply replies to you with "Speak" as if you're some kind of dog. When she first propositions you for sex, she's still at her most abusive towards you, but because you fight good, she wants to lick your skin, taste your sweat, and "take what's hers." Even once the entire party knows--because we literally all see it in action with our own eyeballs--that the only thing preventing us from becoming either brain washed slaves to the Absolute or just straight up becoming mind flayers is the Astral Prism, she still keeps trying to take it and return it to the githyanki, even going so far as to try and kill Shadowheart for it. Even when her loyalty to her culture nearly gets her killed in the Zaithisk, and you tell her the true nature of it, she refuses to accept the reality and tries to blame the doctor, who she accuses of being a traitor, rather than accept that no, actually, it was working exactly as intended. It takes Voss showing up at our camp after everything else that had happened, and telling her the truth about Orpheus--something we had already been told about and found books covering before that point--to get her to even consider the fact that um actually maybe Vlaakith is evil (something that coming face to face with her and her nearly killing us didn't even convince her of).

All of these things I've described about Lae'zel in Act 1 are things that can be incredibly triggering to someone who has experienced any of the traumatic experiences I described above that has resulted in people identifying with and latching onto Astarion and Shadowheart. And like....does Lae'zel get better in Acts 2 and 3? Sure. But by that point, the damage has been done. And like in real life, Lae'zel isn't owed anything just because by Act 2 she's clearing the bear minimum of not being straight up abusive to your character. People aren't required to stop ranking her as their least favorite character, or straight up not liking her, after the way she treats you for the first third of the game. Especially not when that "first third" can easily be the part of the game you spend the most time in, with you spending dozens of hours in that part of the game, which also means they're spending the most time with Lae'zel before her character improves at all. Like I'm not saying that the ven diagram between "people who relate to Astarion and Shadowheart because of trauma" and "people who don't like Lae'zel" is a perfect circle, but the overlap is probably a way rounder oval shape than people who are too busy insisting that if she were a handsome man she would totally be popular appreciate. Before I wrap this up, I want to touch on that last part because I think it's important to address. I've seen people make that claim, but would Lae'zel really be more popular if she were a guy? I haven't seen a single person who makes this claim say they would like Lae'zel more if she were a guy. What I have seen is multiple people say in response that they would actually like her less if she had been a guy, which is honestly also how I feel.

Maybe this is something worth exploring in a separate post someday, but I would actually argue that the only reason Lae'zel works as a party member at all is because she's a woman. Flip her gender and she becomes an abusive man who treats you like you're beneath him and who says he wants to taste your skin and your sweat and claim ownership of your body as the first "nice" thing he ever says to you. As a woman who already has to deal with the general sexism of our society (including lawmakers trying to take ownership of our bodies and make medical decisions for us instead of leaving it between us and our doctors), especially a woman with multiple male-dominated hobbies, that's something I would find incredibly triggering--(even more so than I already found Lae'zel's sex proposition, which already made me super uncomfortable and had me thinking "wow imagine if a guy said this"). That's not "edgy and mysterious;" a man who treats you poorly but still thinks he's entitled to you/ your body, would be the poster boy for toxic masculinity, and I can promise you that more people would have taken issue with a character like that than they do with Lae'zel as she is.

Especially people with trauma like what I described at the beginning of this..

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #lae'zel #astarion #astarion ancunin #shadowheart #tw: sa mention #tw: sa #tw: abuse #tw: verbal abuse #tw: family abuse #tw: toxic family #tw: platonic abuse #tw: religious trauma #tw: trauma #tw: religious zealotry

[jtl-fics]

*people shouting in the streets* MATH NERD!! MATH NERD!! MATH NERD!! MATH NERD!! MATH NERD!!

Give the people what they want!

- @neilimfinejosten

WIP Wednesday - 10/18/23 (Closed) | Math Nerd AU

Andrew's tired of this whoel song and dance in an instant.

"Cass what do you want?" he asks just wanting this all to be over holding a hand up to silence Neil. Neil's mouth audibly clicks shut. "Say it and leave." he looks at her.

He watches her face shift from tightly controlled anger to one that he knew was going to be uncomfortable. "Drake was a good brother to you Andrew, won't you please testify that those other kids a-are just...they're just lying! They have to be. Drake never ever touched any of them or you." Cass asks pleadingly.

"Drake was a monster." Andrew says, "He didn't touch me because he didn't get the opportunity to touch me." he says and tries to ignore the quiet table, "Since I had a friend who looked out for me." he says.

#Is it you #Are you the people #;) #Math Nerd AU #Andreil #Cass Spears #Luther Hemmick #Drake Spears #Drake Spears Mention #Math Nerd - Thanksgiving - 36 #10-18-23 WIP Wednesday #WIP Wednesday Ask Game #10 #TW: SA Mention #TW: CSA Mention

[ourdreamsareneon]

okay *cracks knuckles* I did a post about gale, time for his better half - astarion

Some of you don't have media literacy and it shows.

I dont know where to start so I'm gonna go hard before getting soft (insert sex joke.) Act 1 astarion is an asshole. He's manipulative and toxic and uses his power as a ~230 year old vampiric high elf to manipulate you into (among other things) having sex with him. I understand falling for him at that point, that's not your fault it's just the game gaming and the writers are really good at how they write his manipulation. However, it does strike me as strange that some of y'all get to the scene where he confesses to using and manipulating you and you....don't care? 'He's just damaged! its not his fault!' babygirl, someone can have a good reason for hurting you, but that doesn't take away the pain. I'm not saying that you shouldn't still love him, but it's strange how many of you disregard that scene. I know for me at least I was saddened by it and definitely was a little wary about him afterwards until beating Cazador and unlocking the nice happy healthy Astarion relationship.

Now here's where we get soft to prove that I actually like Astarion. The reason that confession stings for me is because I have many a memory of being SA'd then being told "I'm not even into you, you were just there." Ever since I stopped being a girl and became a woman, something that happened all too early in my life, I have been used and abused. And hey, sorry for making my Tav the exact same way but I like processing my trauma through D&D. I relate a lot to Astarion. Hurt people hurt people and I know that better than anyone. I also know better than anyone that picking yourself up and healing from that hurt sucks ass. Which brings me to two points. Um apologies for getting hard on you again.... insert another sex joke here.

1) Astarion isn't ace. I've seen this briefly and while I appreciate the need for queer rep, and love headcanons, I do think this discounts the struggle a lot of SA survivors go through. Okay, back to my life so we can compare. When I was chin deep in my abusive relationships and just general shitty time of my life, I was fucking and sucking literally so much it hurt. However as soon as I got out of that situation, I basically became celibate for 2 years. I didn't know how to have sex in a way that was healthy, or that wouldn't make me feel awful about myself. It was only this year that I was able to finally have sex in a way that made me happy. I think you'd be blind not to see Astarion in the same way. He's just a hurt man that is trying to rediscover and heal himself. Which is why he doesn't care about Tav and Halsin, and why you can have sex on his grave. He is very sexually open he just needs some time.

2) Ascended Astarion isn't sexy and I don't think some of you are ready for that conversation. Look I don't have time to go through this because I have a meeting in 30 minutes because I'm an adult with bad time management. But I just. Come here. Come real close. Abusive relationships aren't hot and sexy. We all love a little bit of kink but if you don't see Ascended Astarion as clearly the bad choice, I'm very confused. He's so sweet and loving and kind and HEALED if you don't let him ascend, I can't imagine not wanting that. And like I said, kink is fine! And ascending him because you're doing an evil run or whatever is also fine! Just please, I need teenagers to stop romanticising abuse because the media you consume does rub off on you.

TL;DR I love Astarion with all my heart, but by the writers own admission he was created as a Try Not To Overly Sexualise an Abuse Survivor Challenge and y'all are failing left and right!

#refusing to read this before posting because my cat sat on me and now im over stimulated #also ive been in love with neil as soon as i saw Gavin Reed breathe in dbh so im not better than anyone #it just saddens me i think bc it feels the same as ppl who sexualise my trauma #i also literally have a side blog dedicated to Billy Stranger Things so this isnt avout the good victim/bad victim thing #because that doesnt exist and if it did i wouldnt be on the good side uwu #anyway let me know what i missed or just scream at me to shut up lol #bg3 #balders gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion #tw: sa mention