#ptsd

[ani-tolaat-bli-toelet]

It sounds a bit silly (especially since we now obviously know the Science of ptsd and how it literally rewires the brain) but, for the time, this is genuinely a good way to explain it! Former soldiers coming to the healer confused, dysfunctional, describing the torture of everyday life, and the healer - a medical authority - telling them "yes, absolutely, you really are haunted by a battle that stopped in reality but goes on endlessly in your body and mind."

Must've been incredibly validating for the sumerian warrior.

Sumerian Veteran: *has severe PTSD but doesn't know it because the term won't be invented for another 5000 years* I fight the same battle in my dreams every night and my relationship with my family has fallen apart.

Sumerian Healer: *saw hundreds of veterans with the exact same affliction before* You're cursed by desert demons.

[random-fun-polls]

*an intrusive thought is classified as an unwanted thought that is often disturbing and causes distress (i.e. the unwanted thought of hurting someone, or a distressing scenario of something bad happening to you). impulsive thoughts (i.e. the urge to randomly dye your hair) are not intrusive thoughts unless it causes you some level of distress

[cherry-pop-elf]

Night terrors

Anya x Reader

Can be read as platonic because we all want to take care of her like we wish someone would for us

AN: As a victim of sexual assault I feel it is important to have a realistic fluff story about the aftermath of it. How it affects the person after it’s been done and how the trauma lingers. How it’s so very important for the person to have a support network. YOU will be her support network. Thank you

Also not to get political but god women in the USA are experiencing a massive increase of assaults so call this projection, or call this training for the inevitable

SUM: Despite surviving that Tulpar adventure, despite all the good karma thrown back at you all, there are just too many many scars to truly recover from

Warnings: Past sexual assault, nightmares, PTSD, whump, abortion, paranoia, it’s gonna be a stressful read, there will be fluff don’t worry, paranoia, inspired/based on my own experiences

“STOP-!”

Anya was screaming in her sleep again.

Woke you up pretty quickly, as you were sharing a bed with her. She was rather scared to sleep alone. Afraid that someone will just break in and take advantage of her. That somehow Jimmy, who long since was dead, will break in again.

“Anya-! Anya wake up! It’s me! Anya-!” You would shake her and try to get her to wake up. To get her out of that terrifying cloud of memories. Her poor face was pale and full of sweat, and she was scared awake by you shaking her. For a fleeting moment she thought it was Jimmy.

As she gave another cry, you reached over and turned on the bedside tables lamp.

She saw your face, and finally took a breathe.

You two weren’t on the Tulpar anymore. Jimmy wasn’t going to hurt either of you ever again. Swansea was home with his wife. Daisuke was home with his mother and father. And she was here with you.

She was alive.

“I….Im sorry-“ Anya sniffled, as you just pulled her into your arms. Gentle with combing your fingers through her hair. Just gentle reminders to not be sorry. To not be sorry for being justified with her fear.

“He won’t ever get you again. I promise.” You would remind her, but she would still tremble.

“Can we check the locks again?” She would ask you, and you would nod. Often times this was the case. No matter how many times she would ask you that question you never got annoyed. It’s good to check the locks anyway. Gotta stay safe after all.

You would both climb out of bed, put on your robes, and go walking around the home. One of your hands was left to be held by Anya’s, as the other would be used to check the locks on everything. From the multiple at front door, from each window, to that of the back door. Each one checked, as Anya would hug at you close.

Was a very nice home, you had to admit. After having rescue finally called, and being saved, the media went nuts. Especially on the fact Curly was still alive. Gave Anya the much needed support to show she was very worthy of a position as a proper doctor. That also meant she got herself quite the hefty salary. Also helps that she now had partial royalties to the book she helped write about the adventure on the ship.

“Every lock is secure.” You explained, as she gave still an anxious look.

“Let’s check each room, and closet. Yeah?” That made her quickly nod.

Now you two were roaming the entire house now. Checking under furniture, in closets, all the nine yards. No stone was left un-turned. You would do it a million times for her. She deserved to have some kind of relief from it all.

“There we go. No Jimmy.” You would give her a hug, and she hugged you back. Still shaken, but at least she was breathing more steady.

The two of you would return to the bedroom, where she did her routine. Checking under her pillow for her sheathed knife, the bedside for her baseball bat, the drawer for her gun, and to take an extra pill to help with the anxiety burst she was having. Her routine.

She would try and lay down, only to dart her head towards the bedroom door. Eyes wide with raw and pure fear.

“I swear I heard him at the door. I swear I did. He said my name he said my name-“ She whimpered, as you would get up. You opened the door, looked around the hallway, and returned.

“Don’t worry Anya. I didn’t hear a single thing.” You reassured, as you would lock the bedroom door for her. Along with putting a chair under the door handle. Even went as far as to double check the bedroom windows, and closed the curtains.

“I’m so sorry-“ She would begin again, as her eyes watered. She felt like such a burden. To have all this fear and paranoia. To the point she couldn’t feel safe when left alone. You couldn’t blame her though. The wounds were still so horribly fresh. Not to mention sometimes PTSD can kick in so many years later. You’ll take the morbid comfort in having it kick in now where you all can handle it now and prepare for the future than suddenly out of nowhere in God knows how long.

It is what it is.

She wasn’t the only one traumatized after all, and she shouldn’t need to apologize for justified fear.

You would pull her back into your arms, and you both laid down. You would turn on the white noise machine for her, to help block the paranoid sounds of voices and scratches from the doors, and would just talk with her. Talk until her medication kicked in to help her sleep.

Didn’t matter what it was. It was just noise to keep her mind distracted.

You wondered how the rest of the crew was doing. How they were dealing with it.

They all had family, so maybe they were doing well. Really should meet up again soon. Can’t be blamed life is so busy.

Curly was back living with his parents and siblings, which they welcomed with open arms. Even his friends before the crew were willing to all share a space to help.

Swansea had his wife and even his kids. Sure he says he’s too old to be traumatized but he keeps checking on his kids way more often now. That’s for sure.

God knows when poor Daisuke’s PTSD will kick in. He may be acting fine now but it’s gonna be a ticking time bomb. It’ll come at him sooner or later. For now his parents were feeling like monsters for pressuring him into that intern ship. He never blamed them, of course. He is even still working under a mentorship with Swansea even. Guess not everything was negative.

Then there was you and Anya. She was the most traumatized of all. There was even the trauma of an abortion. There’s still so many emotions with that as well, but you held her hand through it. Even as far as to move in with her to help. You two had always been very close. Even before joining the crew. You two were always tagged together. Even nicked named her assistant to a point.

You’ll stick with her through the ends of the earth.

“Wanna go visit Curly in the morning? It’ll be Saturday. Maybe we can even invite Swansea and Daisuke.” You offered. Just something positive to look forward to. Something worth waiting for.

“That would be nice.” She muttered, as her own paranoias exhaustion was kicking in. Too tired to even be afraid. Often times how it ends. She gets herself so worked up it ends up being the very same thing that makes her fall back asleep.

“Yeah. We can check out his new prosthetics. Daisuke said he even bought stickers specifically for them.” That had Anya smile. That sweet smile that was hard to come by right now. One that was filled with comfort. Comfort of such an innocent and sweet thought.

“Swansea says he’s also going to attach his own upgrades to it. Not sure how that will work, or what the hell he’s planning, but not gonna lie I need to see if he gives him rocket boosters.”

That got a little laugh from her. The both of you imagining poor Captain Curly flying around in the sky, as Daisuke runs around with some trampoline to try and catch him on.

Just something silly to cut through it all.

Seemed to work, as you could feel her breathing easier now. Her breath not so intense. Was far more steady, and you could tell she fell back asleep. You were thankful for it. Not because she was annoying you. No. Never. But because she needed her rest. She deserves it. She already is working long hours at the hospital, which you bet is because she is trying to avoid being isolated and alone at all cost maybe even reduce sleeping to, so she needed proper sleep more than ever.

And you’ll do your best for her. To help her with it all. You were her little assistant. You’ll do what an assistant does best. Make sure your boss is able to tackle projects easier.

And this project was healing. A project that won’t ever end, will have ups and downs, and be taxing. Over time out the ass and no vacations.

And you know what you say to that?

Bring it.

Thank you so much for reading. This was a more vulnerable piece because Anya really reminded me so much of myself. How I’m suppose to take care of everyone else, while my traumatic abuse is just swept under the rug.

Since you read all the way to the end, maybe take a look at this

National Sexual Assault Hotline:

1-800-656-4673

National Domestic Violence Hotline:

800-799-7233

RAINN (Rape Abuse Incest National Network)

1-800-656-4673

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

1-800-273-8255

You deserve love and support. What happened wasn’t your fault in the slightest. Not even for a single second. You deserve happiness, hope, and to live a long and healthy life. Everything will be ok again. Doesn’t seem like it now, but it will. I promise

[d3vdgvrlll]

i’m going to kill myslef honey fuckibg shit why tf did this happen.

so i’m a life guard and yesterday i saw this old ass dude like 80 or so swimming breaststroke and his form was all messed up, he was making it way harder on himself etc. as a former swim instructor for kids i thought, “why don’t i help this guy, old men aren’t that dangerous right?” (knowing full well the potential of men.) like a fucking dumbass i spent a half hour explaining that to him and then told him what days i work. he showed up today and first thing he does is hug me and kiss my head, which in my culture is normal for older people to do so i didn’t think much of it. then he goes in for another hug, asks for my facebook in his broken german accent, and makes remarks about my features (im obviously jewish). he asks where i am from and i say israel, bc thats where i was raised for half my life, and a majority of what caused all my trauma (witnessing bombings, terrors, family members dying at a younger age then me, losing friends, homes, schools, losing everything) and he goes “oh!!! so you jew?” with a big smile his mouth wide open and i’m about to throw up bc i realize i was right. i’m always fucking right. he starts talking abt his jewish daughter and i thought maybe i had been saved, he has a daughter older than me surely he can’t think of me in that way! but no. just as im about to breathe out finally and convince myself i was being dumb he makes a pass at my tits and grabs my arm forcefully, gazing into my eyes and letting the mask finally drop. i can see what he’s wanted since the begining and i can see what he is and im disgusted and terrified an i fucking hate myself. i hate me for being this fucking stupid. his voice rings in my head alongside all the others and maybe if i wasn’t this retarded it wouldn’t have happened so many times.

[surrah698]

[nv-alexander]

Ive been saying this for ages! Trauma is a specific thing and it is actively harmful to use "traumatic" to refer to things that are not trauma.

PTSD and CPTSD are difficult to treat and widely misunderstood. Using "trauma" to describe an UPSETTING experience is completely fucking the mental health world.

You read/saw/experienced something that upset you or made you uncomfortable? Not trauma.

"Trauma results from an event or series of events experienced as physically or emotionally harmful or threatening that has lasting adverse effects on an individual's functioning and well-being"

Trauma is also defined as exposure to actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual violence.

For an experience to be encoded as trauma, the survival circuit has to be involved. Reading a sad story does not make you go into survival Mode unless a preexisting trauma disorder is triggered by the content.

Words mean something. You can just be upset about shit. You can find experiences upsetting. Literally everyone has upsetting experiences that is part of life. Being unwilling to deal with your emotions does not mean you have trauma.

trauma disorders have the highest suicide rates of any disorders and are some of the most difficult to treat.

Do Not call shit trauma if it is not trauma.

I will eat you.

I'm wondering if, as a society who cares about vulnerable people, we could stop saying "traumatize" when we truly mean "upset"?

I am sick of hearing sad books or movies "traumatize" their readers. I simply do not believe that happens. A traumatic experience might be adjacent to books (I have vivid memories of books I was reading around certain experiences and even how the contents of those books affected my processing of the experiences). But it's not caused by the book. And, y'know. The weather is Christofascist Censorship Attempts outside.

Meanwhile from the other side I continue to be surprised at just how badly people fail to understand trauma and traumatic experiences in general. Watering down the term isn't helping. Find other hyperbole to express that The Bridge to Terebithia gutted you, chewed on your heartstrings, and made you cry your first pair of contact lenses right out of your preteen eyes.

[sysmedsaresexist]

Kim Nobel, the artist with DID

I highly recommend everyone give this video a watch! Kim Nobel is an incredible artist, and her story gets me every time.

[cholerascum]

how ive been feeling for the past couple days

[hexcii]

Vent art that accidentally turned into a light study 👍👍

Probably strange out of context but ehh I don’t wanna bother with that rn

[multi-stays]

No comment

🐺꒷꒦⊹ ࣪ ˖ᡣ𐭩 give you what you need lee felix x f!reader x bang chan

Your preheat hit this morning, in the middle of your first class. Your stomach tying itself into knots, the first cramp tearing your abdomen apart, a cold sweat beading on your forehead by the time you stumbled into your next class, the one you shared with Felix – dragging him right into his own preheat as soon as he wrapped his lithe, familiar arms around you. So, really, when the door to your bedroom creaks open, and you hear Chan hesitantly calling your name, it’s your own fault. Your own fault that you didn’t tell anyone, that you just hurried home, half ripped each other's clothes off and went at it. That you were panting and moaning into each other’s mouths so loud that you didn’t hear the front door get unlocked by the only person except for you and Felix who has a key; the only alpha you both trust, the unofficial pack alpha to your pack of friends. OR You and Felix have been helping each other through your heats for years – until Chan walks in on you.

word count: 6.6k words

author's note: skzms omegaverse debut!! wrote this slick smut because I've been having a rough time and needed distraction. straight filth! with a lil bit of feelings ofc <3 but yeah, enjoy!! also to the people who wanted chanlix, I hope this scratches the itch!

warnings: omegaverse! typical warnings apply: unprotected sex, breeding, possessiveness, talk of mating, biting, so much slick, hints of pred/prey in the way they talk; alpha!chan, omega!reader, omega!felix with a boypussy and a little cock; omegas scissoring <3; a tiiiny moment of blood

skzms' masterlist

Felix licks into your mouth with a barely contained, breathless whimper, his hand sliding down to grip your ass and drag you closer, smearing a strip of your milky lemonade slick against his naked thigh in the process.

You follow the lead of his hands, arching into him, brain already deliriously foggy as your hands slide over the slope of his back and down, down, down, until you can press a fingertip against his leaking hole, sending him reeling into your arms, moaning into your mouth so hard a string of drool drips between you and onto the sheets.

It’s become a ritual of sorts, for you and Felix to help each other through your heats — even if it only takes the edge off, doesn’t fully satiate that most base kind of need that settles so deeply into your bones during that time. It was the obvious choice when your heats started to sync up because you were living together. That and, as Felix vehemently told you, he’d rather do this than let either of you be touched by some predatory alphas when you were at your most vulnerable.

Felix’s hands tighten on your body, and he hauls you closer until he can grind his small, barely developed omega cock against your clit, and you can smell his scent explode in the room as a gush of slick drips out of his pussy. You’re sure the smell of strawberry lemonade is permeating the rest of the apartment at this point, if not reaching into the hallway.

With a desperate huff, Felix parts from you, an irritated little scowl on his pretty, flushed face. He struggles to sit up between your legs, rips his cardigan off, tossing it somewhere onto the floor before winding his pretty little hands around your thigh and manhandling you until you’re on your side, Felix sitting between your thighs, straddling one of them. He drags up his shirt, puts the hem of it between his teeth as he shuffles forward, hugging your leg against his chest, spreading you open so lewdly it satisfies something deep within you. Presenting. To be taken.

His hole, hot and drippy, with his little cock at the top, makes contact with your throbbing pussy, and it sends pleasure shivering through your entire body. There’s a loud squelch when slick skin slides against slick skin, your sensitive pussy rubbing against his. The moan Felix lets out before his instincts kick in, and he starts humping you, is deafening. His hips kick forward again and again, his cock dragging over your hole, sometimes even slipping inside with the force with which he’s humping you, making you leak more, try to clench around him, keep him inside even if he’s small. He’d come inside you before like this, and it had felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

With a particularly good roll of his hips, Felix throws his head back and almost howls. When his head drops forward, his eyes are wild and his canines are poking against the plush of his lips – his body wants to mate. You can feel a tingling in your jaw as your body responds to him readily.

Your preheat hit this morning, in the middle of your first class. Your stomach tying itself into knots, the first cramp tearing your abdomen apart, a cold sweat beading on your forehead by the time you stumbled into your next class, the one you shared with Felix – dragging him right into his own preheat as soon as he wrapped his lithe, familiar arms around you.

So you had no time to warn anyone, to let your friends know, to ask someone to bring you some groceries to help you get through the next few days. Because even if Felix was also an omega, your body knew him now, knew that when he was close, so was relief – so as soon as your delirious preheat brain smelled him, it was done. Game over. You needed him and you needed him now.

You left that class halfway through, Felix’s hand clammy in yours, his small boner pressing against your ass as he held you tight while waiting for the bus, letting you bury your face in his scent gland on the ride home to tide you over, even as you could feel your slick dampening your panties, could hear his aborted little gasps in his throat at the sensation. Though, luckily, to everyone else, you just looked like one omega, taking care of another. Because that’s what you were, right? Just … friends, helping each other out. Out of necessity. Though, you would really call Felix your best friend. You were always together, attached at the hip, always sitting next to each other or on top of one another, even when with your other friends, who never failed to tease you about it. Because teasing was all there was to do. They would never take you seriously after all.

Omegas didn’t get into relationships with other omegas. It just wasn’t done, didn’t make any evolutionary sense.

It doesn’t matter. You swallow down the bitterness before your scent can sour and tip Felix off because he would stop. Go against his biology and every nerve in his body screaming for friction to stop and ask you what’s wrong. And you don’t want to think. You want the cramps to stop – want to come, want to spill hot and slick all over Felix’s little cock or his fingers or your mouth, and then you want to help him get there, too, and snuggle down into your haphazardly thrown together nest and scent each other until you both fell asleep. Groceries and texting your friends be damned.

So, really, when the door to your bedroom creaks open, and you hear Chan hesitantly calling your name, it’s your own fault. Your own fault that you didn’t tell anyone, that you just hurried home, half ripped each other's clothes off and went at it. That you were panting and moaning into each other’s mouths so loud that you didn’t hear the front door get unlocked by the only person except for you and Felix who has a key; the only alpha you both trust, the unofficial pack alpha to your pack of friends.

You don’t know what he walks into, but you can only imagine what you must look like when you blink your hazy eyes open, and you meet his wide eyes. His pupils are so blown they look almost black, and you can see the barely perceptible rise of his chest, the flare of his nostrils as he inhales and his next breath shudders out of him.

“Sh-shit I’m so s-sorry,” Chan exclaims, his voice thick with something you can’t put your finger on.

Felix’s head whips up in his direction, and he freezes, then sniffs the air.

That’s when you notice it, too – Chan’s scent. Subtle enough in its normal form, it’s rich, earthy vanilla, like it was just scraped out of the pod, now thickening with something that’s almost alcoholic.

Arousal, you realise.

His gaze trained on your face as if he’s trying not to look down where you and Felix are naked and still connected. Felix grinds forward and everything’s suddenly so much wetter. You mewl and watch as Chan’s hands ball into fists.

“D-do you do this a lot? No, don’t answer that, I mean, fuck, I’m so sorry,” Chan whines and shakes himself, like he’s trying to shake the thoughts out of his head. Felix looks at you. You look at him. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, and his cock jumps where he’s still slowly, absentmindedly rutting it against your pussy. There’s a squelch that makes Chan wince.

“T-that was inappropriate, I’m so sorry, it’s hard to think straight when you … you know what, I’m just … I’m just gonna g-go.”

He takes a shaky step backwards, towards the door, but Felix’s voice stops him dead in his tracks.

“Don’t.”

Chan freezes. He looks unsure. There’s a thick bulge in his jeans now that makes your mouth water. You have a hard time thinking but you know one thing – you can’t let him leave now.

“Stay,” you breathe, try to make your voice sound soothing, but it comes out in something more akin to a purr. Felix nearly answers with one of his own, and you watch as Chan shivers.

Then Felix gets up. You bite back the whimper at the loss of his warmth, your knees knocking together on instinct, trying to protect your modesty even though there’s nothing more that you want than to roll over and present yourself for Chan’s taking. Chan’s eyes drop between your legs and for a delicious second stay glued there, before he flushes a darker red and looks at Felix instead — curses when he looks down and sees Felix’s slick drip down his inner thighs, his cock standing proudly between his legs. Chan screws his eyes shut and crosses his hands in front of his crotch, as if it could hide any of it.

As if drawn by an invisible string, you get up, too. Felix hears you coming, lets you wrap yourself around his back, tugs your arms tighter around himself as you stand in front of Chan, who still has his eyes screwed shut. Chan’s scent is overwhelming now, heavy and dark, like he’s barely holding it together, and your scent sweetens in response. Like you’re trying to make yourself more tempting, trying to lure your alpha into giving you what you want. You feel dizzy with want.

When Felix steps forward, you join him. You don’t need to speak, an unspoken understanding of what you want hanging between you.

You take Chan’s hand as Felix walks up behind him, gently pushes him towards the bed. Chan seems to resist for a second, before he sinks down onto the edge of it.

Felix smiles at him.

“Alpha,” he purrs, and Chan’s mouth falls open. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip. You need to resist the urge to lean in and suck it into your mouth.

“Felix, I don’t know if this is a good idea,” he starts, cuts himself off with a groan when you sink onto the bed next to him and nuzzle into his neck, right over his scent gland. It smells good, so unbelievably good, and it sends shivers of contentment through you, your limbs loosening, body warming. The knots in your stomach are less taut, some of the confusion settling, being replaced by a dizzying, all-encompassing kind of need.

Distantly you notice the bed dip, then a loud groan ripples through Chan’s chest. When you blink your eyes open, Felix is nuzzling into the other side of Chan’s neck, his own eyes slipped shut, one of his hands sliding over, grabbing at Chan’s chest. Your fingers dig into Chan’s thigh harder, slip a little further between his legs, scratch again the seam of Chan’s pants.

“F-fuck,” Chan breathes out, and you pull back enough to look at him. The eye contact almost sobers him.

“Y-you’re not in your right mind to agree to this,” he mumbles, hisses when Felix drags his teeth over his sensitive skin, “you’re in heat. I can’t … fuck … I couldn’t take advantage of you like this.”

You scowl at him.

“As if we never asked you for help before.”

Because you did. Both of you, at some point in time, had gone to him, the one alpha you trusted more than anyone, and asked if he would help you with your heats. And Chan had declined. Had, truthfully, shattered your little heart, absolutely devastated you, and made you swear you would never tell anyone about the crush you had on him. You never even told Felix about it. So embarrassed were you that you thought he could want you like that. Strong, reliable, kind, the best man you ever met – he deserved a better partner. But that was in the past. You got under Felix and over your crush, at least that’s what you tell yourself most days.

“B-but we’re friends,” Chan stammers, though it turns into a stuttery moan when Felix runs his hand from his chest to his neck, wrapping loosely around his jaw and turning him towards him. Something possessive rankles in your heart.

“We could be more,” Felix purrs, and you don’t know if it’s your heat, but it’s like you’ve never wanted anything more in your life. “Come on, alpha, don’t you want to take care of your omegas?”

Chan swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing heavily, chuckles like he can’t believe his ears.

“Omegas …”

You slide closer to Chan’s other side, your hand slipping precariously close to the bulge in Chan’s jeans. The thought of his knot alone makes you drip. Such a strong alpha, he would give you the most beautiful pups. You reach out, brush your pinky over the stiff denim covering it, only a featherlight touch he like can hardly feel. Chan gasps nonetheless.

You lean closer, your lips brushing Chan’s ear.

“Yes, alpha,” you breathe into Chan’s ear, “take care of us. We need you.”

Chan’s head falls back before he turns to you. When he does, his face hovers only inches away, and you give him your best doe eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Felix, something unreadable on his face as he stares at the two of you – reaches a hand between his own legs and squeezes. Chan’s nostrils flare.

“Fuuuuck,” Chan moans out, his hand surging out to wrap around your waist, pulling you against him as if to steady you, but you suspect it’s more for his own sake. “Are you sure? You gotta be sure. I can’t do this if you’re not sure. Even if you’re driving me fucking crazy right now.”

“We’re sure,” you whisper, lean in until your lips are brushing over his, “please, we trust you. Please, Channie.”

The begging seems to do him in because before you can even finish saying his name, his lips are on yours, and he’s kissing you like he’s trying to devour you. His fingers dig into the plush of your waist, locking you in place, leaving you no way to escape. As if you would want to.

But then, his mouth is ripped away from you and Felix drags him into his own eager mouth, licks into his mouth so hard Chan can do nothing but take it, kiss him back, drag his hand up and wind it around the back of Felix’s head.

You growl unhappily and Felix smiles into Chan’s lips before he reaches out, screws his fingers into the material of your tank top and pulls you onto all fours over Chan’s lap and into his lips instead, right in front of Chan’s shocked face.

Chan curses under his breath, his hand coming to the bulge in his jeans, squeezing at it, hard. It sends you for a tailspin, knowing how much you’re affecting him, and it makes you kiss Felix even filthier, putting on a show until Chan’s hand finds the back of your thighs. He hisses when his fingers meet the slick that’s dripping out of you at this point.

“Y-you really … fuck, I swear I’m not trying to be creepy …” Chan starts, but trails off.

Felix pulls back from you with one last nip to your bottom lip, giving you a lazy smile that makes you want to jump his bones, before he sits back and turns back to Chan.

“Spit it out, Chris.”

Chan flushes a deep red.

“You really … do this. Kiss. Fuck.”

You blink at Chan, not understanding. He winces, looks at you like he’s about to tell a child that Santa isn’t real. Unnecessarily, you think. You’re not that innocent.

“There’s … uh, lots of … uhhh … porn out there, of this sort of thing … I just didn’t know if it was really a thing.”

Oh. He doesn’t mean it like that, you know it, but it still hurts. Felix huffs next to you, his brows furrowing, and then his hand finds yours. He pulls you a little closer.

“Yes, we do. We don’t just do it for some alpha’s gratification. What we have goes much deeper than that.”

Your heart skips an uneven beat, and you look at Felix, who’s already looking back at you. There’s so much affection in his big brown eyes it makes you dizzy. He squeezes your hand, and you lean in to peck his lips before you can stop yourself. You blush when you pull back, ready to apologise for it, but Felix smiles at you so softly you think you might not have to.

When he turns back to Chan, however, his eyes are steely again. “Now take off your shirt, I wanna suck your cock.”

Your eyes widen at his tone. Something dark flickers in Chan’s eyes, but he does what he’s asked. He crosses his arms over his chest and pulls his black shirt over his head. He tosses it somewhere in your room, but you’re not even looking. All you can do is stare.

Chan is all muscle. Wide, solid waist, even wider shoulders, strong arms and stronger shoulders. Milky skin pulled taut over his pecs, down over defined abs. There’s a hint of a happy trail that leads under the waistband of his jeans, and your mouth waters at the same time as your pussy gushes more slick. Your body pumps out more pheromones, and you can see Chan’s pupils dilate before you and Felix pounce on him.

Chan is being pushed back against the bed by your hands in his hair and Felix’s on his chest, running his fingers greedily over his muscles. Chan stares from you to Felix hovering over him like he can’t believe his luck, but your biology picks this moment to come back with a vengeance.

A surge of cramps rips through your insides, and you hiss, curl in on yourself. Your hole clenches around nothing, making the ache in your belly worse until your ears are ringing with it. There’s a soothing hand on the base of your spine, Chan’s voice somewhere, saying your name, you think.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” he speaks again, and it reaches you like you’re underwater, “let alpha take care of you, hm?”

You try and nod as best as you can, but it’s all you can muster. You let your body get tugged his way and that, until you’re sitting on your knees. For a second, you think you’ll fall, but then there are strong hands on your hips.

They tug you down and suddenly, there’s a hot, wet mouth on your cunt, and you nearly scream with relief when Chan sucks on your clit hard.

The pleasure is almost too much after so much neglect, but your body is also greedy, now that it’s finally being touched, and touched by an alpha no less. The warring urges make you feel half insane. Blind and dumb, you lean back. You place the palm of your hand on Chan’s chest, spread your legs even wider and Chan doesn’t miss a beat – mumbles vague praises into you, angles his head just so, opens his mouth and lets you grind your hole over his tongue. Your slick drools out of you, but it only makes Chan moan heavily against you, swallow it down, nudge his nose forward until it bumps against your clit with every rut of your hips.

The pressure inside of you is building so fast it’s almost terrifying, every waft of Chan’s dark, alcoholic vanilla making your body more and more pliant, and you can’t think of anything but release. Your free hand winds into Chan’s hair to hold him in place and Chan moans, his hips stuttering up behind you, and you can hear a filthy gagging noise.

Blearily, you turn your head and make eye contact with Felix’s teary eyes, his small fingers and pink mouth stretched around Chan’s cock, knot bulging at its base already. He’s fully naked now, dusty nipples pebbled prettily, and he has a hand shoved between his legs, two fingers buried inside of himself as he sucks Chan off.

The image along with the feeling and the lewd sounds of Chan fucking his tongue into you send you hurtling toward the edge, but what pushes you over it is when Felix pulls off and reveals inches and inches of Chan’s thick, red cock until it finally falls from his swollen lips, and he smiles at you.

You come with a yell, the pain in your guts exploding into white-hot pleasure, taking your breath away for a second. Your fingers tighten on Chan’s hair until you’re sure it must hurt, but he doesn’t let up, laps at you hard, licks every last bit of pleasure right out of you, humming and moaning and swallowing your slick greedily until you’re shaking and trembling in his hold.

“Feeling better, darling?” Chan asks from where he’s still lying underneath you.

You nod distractedly, but you’re distracted by him. He looks nothing short of slick drunk, cheeks pink, hair sweaty and mussed, his whole chin wet with your release, his pupils blown. His speech is slightly slurred. When he licks his lips, and moans at the taste, more need blooms in your abdomen.

The pain is gone, yes, but the orgasm did nothing to alleviate your need for him. You still can’t think straight, the only thing on your mind getting his stupid knot inside of you.

“Wan’ your cock,” you mumble, and Chan blinks, though you’re sure he heard you. But you’ll repeat yourself if you have to. “Want your cock. Your knot. Wan’ you to fuck me full, alpha.”

Chan’s mouth falls open, and he curses loudly.

“Jesus, fuck, you’ll be the death of me,” he mumbles, his scent deepening, and you’re about to beg again when the bed dips, and you watch Felix crawl closer to you. He looks wild, lips all swollen, his whole body flushed with his heat. His eyes are narrowed prettily.

“I want his knot, too.”

“I want it first,” you say, and Felix glares at you. There’s something feline about him in that moment.

“No, me,” he retorts.

Your scowl deepens. A feral kind of irritation bubbles in your guts.

“No, my heat started first, I should get alpha’s knot first.”

Felix glares at you and then he jumps you.

He topples you off Chan’s chest and onto the bed, so hard, you nearly both go flying off and onto the floor. He catches you just in time, manhandles you until you’re on your back and you only get to meet his dark eyes for a brief second before he leans in and kisses you meanly, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, teeth clacking together.

“When did you ever want a knot so badly, hm? Was I not enough for you?” he growls into your mouth without pulling back, staring into your eyes wildly.

You glare back, slide a hand between your sweaty bodies until you can touch him. Run two fingers around his hole to gather some slick before wrapping your hand around his little cock.

Felix moans weakly, screws his pretty eyes shut, fingers digging into the sheets on each side of your head.

“Jealous?”

He doesn’t answer, only opens his eyes to stare at you before he surges in to kiss you again. He winds one of his hands around the back of your head, holds you in place as he kisses you, then bites your lip meanly – so meanly his revealed canine pierces your lip and sends a stab of pain through your system. A second later, you taste blood.

Felix moans wantonly when he tastes it, too, his hand sliding into your hair, tugging so he can kiss you deeper, lick up every drop of blood he can while you writhe beneath him, your body like a live wire as he takes and takes and takes. You’re getting lightheaded, deprived of oxygen, his body pinning you against the bed, his mouth on yours, though you can’t begin to complain. Having Felix like this feels more right than nature ever could.

But suddenly, he’s hauled off you in one fell swoop. Lifted off by strong, merciless hands, tossed next to you on the mattress like he weighs nothing. The sudden absence of him is disorienting, but then the heat of his body is replaced by Chan’s, who is burning even hotter. He braces one hand next to your head, the other next to Felix’s and stares down at you.

He’s intense. Gorgeous. Strong and yet so, so soft. The only alpha you’ve ever trusted like this, even when there’s a drop of sweat rolling down the dip of his collarbone and something wild in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. You wonder if he’s going into rut, driven into it by the haywire pheromones of two omegas throwing themselves at him, or if this is just him letting go of control. It makes you shiver with a kind of fear that only makes you want him more.

“Stop fighting,” he growls out and Felix next to you gasps, “you’ll both get your knot. Or do you doubt that alpha can take care of you?”

You shake your head vehemently, and Felix follows. Chan watches your wide eyes, your trembling chest, and his eyes only get darker.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, dips down to nudge at your scent gland, and it makes shivers run down your spine. He drags first his lips, then his tongue, then his teeth over it, and your brain loses all focus except the desperate urge for him to bite down. Mate you, mate Felix, let you sink your teeth into Felix as well, bound to each other forever, just the three of you.

Felix’s hand finds yours, and you squeeze hard when Chan digs his teeth into your skin. Not nearly enough to break skin, not even to bruise, but it makes you whimper, nonetheless, legs trying to close, but you can’t. Chan’s thick thigh is wedged in between yours, pitifully out of reach of where you’re aching for him.

“Gonna fuck you full, give you my pups,” Chan mumbles, pulls back and stares at you, then Felix, before he dips down to lick and suck at his scent gland, too. Felix whines pathetically, hips bucking into the air. He hasn’t even come yet, and the desperation in the little mewls he lets out with every one of Chan’s ministrations makes your chest ache.

You roll over, press yourself against him, and he preens underneath you when you nuzzle your own face into the side of his neck. It’s scenting, but it’s also a little more than that, your lips lazily sucking at his shoulders, his neck, anywhere you can reach. Then Chan hums and reaches down, slides two fingers into him, and Felix moans.

“P-please,” he gasps, little moans punched out of him with every rut of Chan’s fingers inside of him, “m-more.”

Chan hums soothingly again and pulls away enough to look down at him. Felix stares up at him with a devastating look in his eyes. All his previous brattiness has dissolved, he just looks inconsolable now.

“Think you can come for me? Then I’ll give Y/Nie her knot, and you get it next. Sound good, omega?” Chan asks, voice so velvety it makes you squeeze your legs together.

Felix nods and Chan smiles, whispers a quiet “good boy” and then he dips back down to mouth over Felix’s scent gland again, his hand speeding up between his legs. You smooth your own hand over Felix’s chest and suck a mark into his neck, and he convulses violently.

“Bite me,” he whispers, sobs. You freeze. He sobs again.

“Bite me, please, bite me, make me yours,” he continues, the words blubbering out between tears. You want to ask who he’s talking to, but a part of you is terrified of the answer. Because what happens if Felix and Chan mate. What happens to you?

Felix wails, and you whimper, nuzzle in deeper, jostled by every rock of his hips to meet Chan’s fingers.

“B-both of you, p-please, mate me. Take me. Wanna be yours.”

Tears blur your vision when you open your mouth and you bite. Not enough to draw blood, not a real mating bite but still enough to make your stomach swoop with something unnamed. And it’s enough for Felix.

He comes with a strangled scream, shooting ropes of cum over his abdomen. His body convulses, bucking his hips harder into Chan’s fingers, chasing the fullness until he’s spent, and he goes limp, putty in your and Chan’s arms.

Your lips are still attached to Felix’s neck, your hand splayed over his stomach, still rising and falling quickly, jerking with every sniffle. He sniffles weakly when Chan gingerly pulls out of him, nods when Chan pets his hair, asks him if he’s okay.

Your mind is swimming, your head replaying his words over and over again, and you’re trying too hard to not get your hopes up. Focus instead on soothing your tongue over the redness on Felix’s delicate skin where your teeth just were, lap up more of his sweet scent, even though it’s difficult for omegas to smell each other’s scents. But you know him so well. Even when it’s not much, it’s so comforting. Familiar. Yours.

It invades your senses, makes more heat pool between your legs where the arousal never left, the ache for a knot not something that can be satiated by one orgasm alone. And Chan seems to know – seems to sense it, or maybe smell it on you because when Felix has calmed, his attention, his big, dark eyes, his intense, overwhelming attention shifts back to you.

He comes to hover over you; bites his bottom lip absentmindedly as he drinks you in, let his eyes, then his palms roam over your body. It’s unhurried, yet intense, makes your legs part, your hips can’t upwards until your pussy is right there, on display for him. Presented for him.

Your alpha senses it. Lets his gaze fall between your legs, now without a remnant of shame, and hums approvingly. He looks intently, as if it’s entirely new, as if he didn’t lick an orgasm out of you already, brings both hands to your thighs, spreads the lips of your cunt open and presses the pad of his thumb into your entrance, making a dribble of slick run out of your hole and into the sheets. You moan weakly, but you don’t dare move. It’s like you’re pinned to the bed by his gaze. Distantly, you realise you’re shaking.

“Pretty,” Chan hums, and you preen. Your body lights up at the compliment, legs spreading wider, hole clenching around nothing right under Chan’s watchful eyes. “So perfect, omega. All for me, hm?”

You nod blearily, your eyes screwed shut. It’s all too much.

“Turn around then, let me give you what you want,” Chan orders and removes his hands from your body. You feel the absence keenly, but the promise of him finally giving you what you need has you scrambling to turn around.

Planting your knees on the bed, you let yourself fall forward, arch your back for your alpha. Your eyes meet Felix’s, who is still lying next to you. He smiles dazedly, but before you can smile back, you feel the tip of Chan’s cock nudge at your hole, and it makes you screw your eyes shut. It feels big. Too big.

“Shh, relax, omega, you can take it,” Chan grumbles, and you nod, to nobody in particular, “you’re made for this, pretty. Made for me. Made to take my knot.”

You nod again, desperate to agree, your heated cheek dragging against the sheets, and you mewl when he pushes forward and the head of his cock breaches you.

Chan curses, a growl brewing deep in his chest as he slowly presses in, inch by gloriously torturous inch, splitting you open until your ears are ringing, and you feel like you’re about to come, just from the feeling of him alone. Something deep inside you, some feral, base part, is purring in a satisfaction you’ve never felt before. Like your wolf is being completed.

When he’s fully seated inside of you, he barely gives you a moment to adjust, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. He moans, but then he’s already pulling out and pushing back in and there’s a lewd squelch of slick when your body tries to suck him back in, through the stretch and all the discomfort because the pleasure is so addicting, the feeling of fulness so right.

“Fuuuckkk, omega,” Chan growls, and starts fucking you slowly. You whimper, rut your hips back weakly. “You’re so tight, omega. No-one ever fucked you right, huh.”

Of course, someone has, but you shake your head. You can tell he’s just babbling, lost somewhere deep in his own head, your alpha wanting you all to himself. He can have you. You want him to.

“I’ll take care of you, baby,” he mumbles as he fucks in deep, grinding over your g-spot as he does, “gonna fuck you full. Make you come all over my knot.”

His pace picks up, his fingers digging into your hips like a vice and your body slumps forward harder, legs sliding further apart, inviting him in deeper and deeper until the head of his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust. You mewl, clench around him, scramble for purchase on the sheets. But before your fingers can screw into the cotton, Felix’s hand finds yours. His eyes are glassy as he scoots across the sheets and closer to you. His hand threads into your hair, pets it soothingly.

“Poor omegas, need it so bad, hm?” Chan mumbles behind you, brings his thumbs to where he’s thrusting into you over and over and over again. He parts the lips of your pussy, making him slide deeper, until his knot catches against your hole every time he bottoms out. It feels huge. Too big to fit inside of you. You nearly start crying then. It’s all you want, but you think your body won’t be able to take it.

Felix pets your cheek, pushes his face forward until you can feel his breath on your face every time Chan ruts into you, almost ruts you up the bed with how hard he’s fucking you. You’re gushing wetness, your body seizing tighter and tighter around Chan’s cock as the pleasure builds.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Felix purrs, and you sob. Tears push their way past your lashes and Felix thumbs them away.

“C-can’t take it,” you slur out, cut yourself off with a moan when Chan slows down, grinds his hips just right and rubs over your g-spot hard, “knot’s t-too big.”

Felix’s body shivers a little with the words, the hand that’s not resting on your face coming down to tug at his cock haphazardly.

“’s not, baby,” he mumbles, dips his head forwards to kiss you, moaning a little when he can feel the impact of every one of Chan’s slow thrusts, “You can take it. You were made for taking alpha’s cock. Made for us.”

You whine and lean back in, catch Felix in a sloppy kiss that he reciprocates happily, Chan behind you stutters out a moan as his hips stutter forwards, fuck into you harder, pressing his knot against your hole until you’re whimpering into Felix’s mouth until he pulls back. There’s a thick string of spit that connects your lips when he does.

“Let alpha take care of you, okay?” he asks, and you manage to nod, before Chan is leaning over you, caging you against the bed, and you scream out a moan when he rams his cock inside you. Felix is still holding your hand as Chan plows into you, hard and deep and fast, growling into your ear as he rams his fucks you so hard you see stars, until you’re nothing but a pliant vessel for pleasure, until your abdomen is seizing, and you can feel your orgasm coming, but you know you need one more thing. One last thing to truly sate you.

“Knot me,” you slur, squeeze Felix’s hand hard, “alpha, please, need your knot. Please, please pleas- Aaaaaaah.”

Chan forces his knot into you with a loud growl, presses it against your entrances until it gives, swallows it and locks him against your body as Chan comes inside of you. Your orgasm slams into you, forces you deeper into the sheets as you sob, convulse around Chan’s cock as he fills you up blindingly hot and so much that it starts drooling out around the sides of his knot, drips onto the sheets. You have to stop yourself from crying out for it, have to tell yourself there’s enough, it’ll take.

But your wolf doesn’t know that. Only purrs in satisfaction at being completed, at getting what it so desperately craved, from the best alpha you know. Your heart aches a little.

Chan is still panting into your neck, but slowly, he unsticks his sweaty chest from your sweaty back and soothes his palms over your sides.

“Lie down with me, darling,” he murmurs, and you follow where his hands lead you, hissing when the change of position tugs at where his knot is still lodged inside of you.

Once you’re finally lying down, he hums more praises, runs his warm, warm hands over every inch of skin he can reach, presses sweet little kisses to your nape, until you’re purring and nearly dozing off.

Distantly, you feel how Felix slides closer, glues himself to your front, warm, silky skin smelling like strawberries, his little boner poking into your leg, his arm slung over you. He nuzzles your nose with his and you hum happily, blindly throw an arm over him, too.

This may just be the beginning of your heat, but it’s already the best you’ve ever had.

Minho greets you, Felix and Chan a couple days later, when you emerge from your heats and the rut you’d inevitably thrown Chan into, with two omegas in heat begging for him 24/7. Hyunjin had to bring you food at some point, and just the smell of Changbin on him nearly sent Chan stark mad.

Now Minho just raises an eyebrow at his fellow alpha, as he saunters over.

“Greedy. Taking two of our prettiest omegas all for yourself.”

“Yeah, can your old man dick even keep up?” Seungmin taunts, but Chan just laughs.

He pulls you into his side, makes Felix on your other side stumble into you until you’re wedged between them.

“Yeah, if you ever need help taking care of them, let us know,” Minho teases and winks at you, giggles evilly when you blush furiously.

Chan’s arm on you tightens, fingers digging into your waist, pain blooming when he presses right into the smattering of bruises still blooming there from where he’d held you down.

“Absolutely not. They’re mine.”

Your heart sings.

Maybe one day you can have what you want. Two bites. One on each side of your neck. Marking you as taken. Marking you as theirs.

skzms masterlist // ko-fi

🔖 general taglist: follow and turn on notifications for my library account: @skzms-library 🔞 I monitor ages over there, just like I used to do with my taglist. I will block minors and ageless blogs, and you'll have to message me again to get unblocked. so just have your age in your bio before you follow!

[faggotstump]

LET'S HEAR IT FOR DEBILITATING MENTAL ILLNESS!!!!

[brain--rott]

"everybody experiences that" says mother who has the same symptom of the same mental illness

[nv-alexander]

PTSD is your brain going back to the acute stress response trying to keep you alive. When out of dangerous situations, this becomes maladaptive. Your brain struggles with what to do when there isn't danger, it's kind of stuck in survival.

PTSD literally changes the structure of your brain and healing from trauma is about fixing that physical damage. Fixing that physical damage is in part cultivating those warm and colorful experiences, learning how to focus on different things, learning reality checks, coping skills, and triggers.

Maybe it's helpful to think about it also as this: PTSD means your brain did a great job keeping you alive, and now it's time to learn how to live.

idk man. ptsd really has a way of convincing you over and over again that you’re unsafe and that everything will be unsafe forever. it’s a series of cracks in your foundations of what safety even feels like. I don’t know if those cracks ever go away. but I am slowly trying to fill them in with warm + colourful experiences until I can almost feel stable again. and maybe that’s what this — recovering life — is all about

[frownyalfred]

Jason and Bruce are out late one night in Gotham as civilians. They get cornered by a mugger and Jason nearly pisses himself, he’s so amused. He teases the would-be mugger about their hand placement, even tries to goad the mugger into a fight because he’s Red Hood. He can disarm anyone in seconds. It doesn’t matter if you have a gun — he has two.

He’s Red Hood, and he has the literal Bat of Gotham standing behind him like a wall of muscle. They’re as close to invincible as humans get, in this town. And that kind of confidence scares off their would-be mugger.

But then Jason turns around, a smile stretching across his face, and Bruce is white. Bone white and so so quiet, eyes wide and trained on where the mugger had been standing.

[cringecorp]