#truama sharing

[waywardsou2]

Whumptober 2024 - Shared trauma

Summary: HYDRA had sunk its claws into every price of the new world Bucky was growing accustomed too. Even into the lives of his new family.

Word Count: 705

Tags: shared trauma, wholesome, fluffy, less whump more fluffy, nightmares

It was nights like these where Bucky would wake up sweating. Water running off his back and dripping from his brow onto his lashes. The way tears would stain his face and his bottom lip would tremble. The way his hand would shake. Just his flesh one. His metal one wasn't made for such weakness.

His blankets would be torn. He would have to ask Tony for a new set.

And he wouldn't be able to sleep again. He didn't want to.

He didn't want to face what was there every time he closed his eyes.

So he got up, grabbed whatever was closest and threw it on before heading to the roof for some fresh air and privacy.

Except instead he found the red headed ex secret agent. Natasha Romanoff. He had met her before. He remembered her.

He felt like turning around and leaving. She seemed comfortable in the silence and he still wasn't sure if he was welcome. Having almost killed her. Twice.

But she saw him, she passed for a moment and he froze. His hands in his pockets as they started at each other in the dark.

Until she beckoned him over. Moving her hand in a forward motion before patting it on the concrete next to her. She was sitting with her knees tucked to her chest and he head resting a top them.

He sat down. Laying his legs over the edge of the building and leaning back on his hands.

He didn't look at her, simply at the forest Stark owned and the twinkling stars littering the horizon above the tree line.

The cold air was tough in his lungs but he reveled in the freshness of it. The cold of nature and night time. Not lab chambers and frozen metallic air.

"You get the dreams too Barnes?" Natasha said breaking the silence.

"Yeah" he admited

"They don't ever go away do they? Not matter how many wrongs you right. Doesn't take away what you did"

He breathed deeply listening to her calm voice. Though what she was saying was true. Her somber and soft voice drowned out the bad thoughts creeping their black tendrils of dread into his mind.

"It's all in the past. But that past is too recent. Too real. Too memorable" she continued

"Like a life you could never have imagined living but had to live anyway" he finished for her

"Like a bad dream you couldn't wake up from"

She hummed in agreeance.

And the two sat there. Staring at the night sky until day break. Basking in the dim glow of the stars and the pleasantness if each other's company

"I'm sorry for trying to kill you" Bucky says bluntly

"I'm sorry for not sticking by you against Stark. He's a douchbag"

"No hard feelings then"

She shook her head. A small smile on her lips. Her teeth just peeking out

"You aren't so bad Barnes. I get what Steve sees in you"

Now it was Bucky's turn to smile. If not for Steve he never woild have make it here. He would never have left HYDRAs clutches and he would have never been given to the Wakandan's so they could help him.

He would have still be trapped

And he believe Natasha might have been too

Even years after the wars HYDRAs still had its filthy hands in every organisation over the world. They had ruined more lived. Even if Steve and all the history books told him they'd one the war.

The scars from every battle said other wise.

And even thought Natasha never lived to see the war. He could tell she had seen a great deal of battles

And the compassion she still had through all of it was commendable. He respected her.

And Natasha revered Bucky. Knowing it took more than just being a soldier to survive all he had. To learn to live again after feeling like you were nothing but a husk for so long. She couldn't help but admire his strength.

Silent the two of them marveled at the strength and bravery of the other as they waited for the sun to rise and their new families to start wondering where they are.

Part of head canon AU for a domestic and peaceful Avengers. More coming soon.

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Life in an Autism World

[bluecatears]

These two need to talk

[allykatsart]

Lucifer would absolutely adopt fallen angel Emily as another daughter once he meets and hears her story.

Oh absolutely! He hears about what happened and turns to Charlie to ask for adoption papers. Charlie already has them ready.

In spite of feeling like a failure, in spite of no longer getting to go home, Emily is surrounded by love and kindness and warmth. She gets to the hotel and is given the biggest, fluffiest blanket they can find. Lucifer gives her space, but both he and Vaggie can empathize with her. And slowly, Emily starts to find understanding that she didn't know she needed.

[griancraft]

I'm struggling to word this but I'm finally ready to talk about it and I want people to listen.

I've noticed a type of racism in leftist communities I don't see talked about a lot. I am Quarter Japanese and I am visibly mixed, but a lot of leftists see "quarter" and assume that I don't have the right to an opinion on issues that effect me. The sentiment I've gotten from mostly white leftists is that I'm not "POC enough" for a lot of discussions.

There's this weird thing in a lot of leftist spaces where your appearance and percentage, not your experiences based on your race, are considered above all.

Meanwhile, in reality, all aspects of my identity are affected by my race and my family's experience with Japanese internment. An event which stripped them of any wealth they had acquired since moving to Canada over 50 years before the war.

An event that cause the intermarriage rate of Japanese-canadians and white Canadians to be over 90 percent post internment because we viewed proximity to whiteness as safety. An event which left them in severe poverty until my dad and aunt worked their asses off to get a degree. The generational trauma goes so deep my dad didn't want me transitioning because he was worried about what the government would do to me.

Because of my race I experienced negligence from authority figures related to pretty severe racially based bullying at 12. That negligence could have killed me. I've had to deal with microaggressions and straight up racism related to my last name on multiple occasions.

One time I was out with a friend and he grabbed my arm tight and dragged me to walk faster. A man wearing a white lives matter T-shirt was standing in the middle of the path looking directly at me when I turned around.

I'm pretty sure this wasn't based on me being feminine and goth that day, I live in a city with a decent amount of people in alt subculture and my friend was way more gothed up and queer than me. I was barely passing as a guy at that point so it wasn't because I was a man in a dress. I know this is a weaker point, but it made me realize just how unsafe I am in my own community even though I'm a mixed person in a heavily multicultural city.

Obviously, this isn't on the scale of someone who is less white passing than me and/or has more compounding marginalizations. However I've found that the fact I'm mixed race has been used against me to devalue my experience and knowledge regarding what it's like to be a POC in Canada.

I can assure you I am aware of how bad it is, and I am aware of how good I have it. I also want you to be aware that it's not all sunshine rainbows and bunny farts to be more white, it doesn't make the racism go away. It often just makes it more covert and easy to explain away because I'm "not really Japanese"

[martyrbat]

when i briefly mention cults i want to make it absolutely clear i mean literal cults. like not just extremist churches that are harmful and manipulative in their own way (although got that experience too) but like.

(general cult talk under cut)

going on ‘retreats’ since youre a child where members of your church would plan with your parents on a time to ‘abduct from your house because youre never prepared to be a testimony for god. literally being driven for hours until lost in a bus where they had the windows darkened in the back so it made it difficult to see especially with the rural surrounding. no phone service if you had a phone. where they would wake you up every half hour for a week or two (or a month if it was a summer) and had no clocks. being led to hike miles in the dark and mud as its 30 degrees and then shoving you in a rope maze in the middle of the woods for you to try and get through until sunrise and how it was a message about needing the light (god) or else you'll be trapped in darkness and that'll take you to hell. they emotionally berate you to give confessions and you had to list your sins outloud repeatedly over and over and then stand there as people tell you how youre a failure and disgrace. but no worries! jesus will fix that as long as you devote your life and happiness to him because your time on the earth has to be miserable to prove your dedication to the heavens and to get your crown of jewels.

i was “homeschooled” to be isolated further and because we couldn't afford the one public school, the people in the cult(s) were the only people i knew and got to see and several of them killed themselves and then the cult would spend a hour praying God has mercy but knowing prayers are not gods will and that our pleads for mercy are meaningless because they're in hell. my priest gave me modern study bibles with underlines on homosexuality said its disgusting and a sin and that suicidal people are weak and god is disappointed and how selfish it is because you're questioning gods judgement in creating you since the moment youre created, you are covered in the blood of sin and your life is a debt you will never pay off.

they would teach things that werent in the bible and if you said that's not true/the verses dont say that then you got belittled for being stupid and not understanding and gaslit to believe you cant trust your own judgement or thoughts because theyre always wrong or misguided. youre told you're empty and hollow without god and to purge yourself from your “sin” so that you can be a vessel for him while sobbing at the thought of what happens if god purges him from you because what will remain? youre empty without holiness but youre repeatedly taught you arent capable of being holy—what will fill the hole that is your self without this god and religion??

and again, i live in a VERY isolated area where we don't have buses or stores or anything. outside of this cult and self hatred and this god that needs you to be hollow for it to deem you worthy—there literally is nothing else. its isolating, its encouraging self hatred and misery to deem your worth, its dangerous as a disabled queer. I have never had a physical in person friendship but ive had more than 5 adults tell me how they would kill me in detail. i dont have family i can talk to. i dont have friends around me. i convinced my mother for me to stop going to the church in about 2019 or so because for a long time i would attend despite not believing in that shit purely because it was the only way i could get out of my extremely abusive household until it became too dangerous there too where i thought it would be SAFER to be in a house where a gun is pointed to my head every few months.

like i make jokes because lolz religious trauma ammirite! and its not a big sensitive topic despite... trauma. but like... when i say i was raised in cults i literally mean fucking cults LMAO

[dreinstein777]

I could love you Truly. PAC, Messages from the person who loves you the most.

Entertainment purposes only

Tao and Elle

The ability to suck it up is not a superpower, saying no is. Own your power

Evolution starts when you leave your comfort zone.get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

It’s time to celebrate the fact you don’t fit in. Stand on your own two feet.

Take a chance, every risk is a success when you’re committed to learning and growth

You are the master of your inner world, and you decide how the outer world affects you. Cultivate a calm inner state.

I’ve asked my cards several times about who may be the one sending you this message. Tons of cards fell out almost every time. I get the feeling of admirers. I hear roars of people, crowds and groups of friends cheering you on. These are best friends you’ve let go of, the people you’ve had first with, high school friends who hold stars in their eyes for you because you’re you, I know this is supposed to be from one person in particular, but for this group it feels like so many people. For those of you who work or have kids around you (around the house I hear) these people love and adore you so much. Some of you may have a style that stands out and you’re so nonchalant about it, confident even, people love this about you. The true love these people have for you is innocent. Your parent who is extremely kept to themselves or a parent who is no longer mentally in their body’s due to age or supressed truama, they feel this for you as well. Everyone wants to let you know they love you, so much, you’re everything they’ve never dared to be.

Darcy and Tara

The quality of your life is determined by how you spend your time. Make sure your schedule reflects the life you want.

Release your expectations and be open to surpise.

The time spent worrying is time spent.

You are the queen of your life, treat yourself like royalty

You are the master of your inner world, and you decide how the outer world affects you. Cultivate a calm inner state.

Okay the person who’s giving you this message is a hugger, they love hugs, they love the color pink, pastel pink, we’re opalite for some of you, I envision opalitr necklace they may have passed down to you, or you share a matching necklace. This sounds like a grandma. This may be someone who’s passed or is about to, someone who is sick. Someone you rarely see, even an aunt. You may study so much, work so much, travel. And you don’t argue, you accept it as is, but this little lady wants to remind you so bad, enjoy life, go get friends, if yiu bake then go bake for friends, as creativity to you schedule. This person misses when you used to paint, or even those crayon drawings you made as a kid, when you’d pick flowers and leafs, hand it to them as a gift, their care free child is now grown, and they wish you’d remember that part of yourself more often. They love you truly, kisses and hugs. Love you so much.

Nick snd Charlie

You have the right to change your mind

You are the queen of your life

Baby steps are still steps

They’re better than standing still

The calmer you are

The more time slows down, and the easier it is to get everything done

Your matter and its time to honor them

Love yourself more

It is safe to wait

A masculine energy that is so gentle, kind and loving, they have fear of you leaving them, choosing others before them, but here they are trusting you that they’ll love you every life snd you’ll love them right back. This could be someone You’re in a relationship with but they’re more masculine, you’ve may always had to be the one to be their for yourself and this person wants to be your rock when you feel helpless. They’ll be here constantly to remind you how beautiful you are, if you’re ace they’re so respectful about it, if you’re trans they love how you express your gender. This may be a gay relationship. Someone in your future who is so well balanced snd knows who they are, literally the nick nelson to your Charlie, searches up every little thing they don’t understand just to understand you better. This love is honest, pure, and so passionate they compose themselves or else they explode into fireworks. This person shows you love is true for you regardless of your identity. They can’t help but to say I love you I love you I love you.

[ponyosmom35]

nightmares

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Synopsis: reader and Simon are in a relationship, and he has a nightmare. He accidentally hurts her. Read part one if you haven't yet for more context!

warnings: choking, angst, self hatred

part one: fight

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733404809671098368/fight?source=share

there will be a third part soon!

"stop!"

Her dreamless sleep is interrupted by the sound of Simons voice. She open her eyes, squinting as they adjust to the darkness. His back was facing her and his body was rigid as sweat clung to his skin. Instantly she recogizes one of his horrible nightmares that plagued him occasionally. It was tough to snap him out of it. 

“No no no stop” he mumers 

She reaches out, placing a hand on his back, rubbing it gently. Despite the anger and sadness she still felt from their horrible fight, she knew she needed to be there for him. Trying to slowly wake him up from whatever horrors he was experiencing. He continues to mumble in his sleep and she allows tiredly reaches her arm across his body, clinging onto him. 

Simon snaps his eyes open, his body in a fight or flight state. He feels an arm around him and instantly grips it and twists it to the side. He flips over pinning the person, his forearm shoved into their neck as his thighs trap theirs to protect himself. 

She screams in pain and shock as in a flash she’s laying on her back, staring up at Simon’s blank cold gaze. He was looking right through her. His grip on her neck tightens and she cries out “si” 

“Its me baby” she nearly whispers 

His eyes glaze over as he realizes what he’d done. He launches himself off of her, falling onto the floor in shock. His eyes were wide as his body shook. She sits up, holding her throbbing wrist against her chest as tears stream down her cheeks. 

“Fuck” he breathes out in horror 

“I’m okay Si” she reassures, wiping her tears as she stares at him. 

“Fuck I- I” his breath falls short again as his gaze finds the marks on her neck beginning to form. “I’m gonna be sick” he says running ot the bathroom. 

She quickly gets up and follows him, but he’s too fast and shuts the door behind himself, locking her out. She hears the sound of him throwing up and cringes. She waits for several minutes, and fixes herself up. She ignores the pain in her wrist. She fixes her hair and puts a new shirt on as her thin tank top had been ripped in the struggle. She was attempting to calm herself as she waited. She needed him to know that it wasn’t his fault, that she was okay. She knew that he was beating himself up right now, and wished to show him that he hadn't hurt her. 

After several minutes Simon unlocks the door, facing her instantly. Tears instantly fill her eyes as she sees the sweat and tears tracks on his face. His eyes were red and puffy. She moves closer to him, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped into his arms. He moves back, dodging her body. She stares at him, hurt that he would avoid her touch. 

“Si it wasn’t your fault” she says gently. She earns no response from him. “You didn’t hurt me. Just come back to bed please” she says reaching to grab his hand.

“No” he says roughly 

“Si-”

“I can’t be here right now, I need to go” he responds

“No you can’t leave right now!” she says, her voice shaking. She follows him as he puts on a coat and shoes. “Simon please don’t leave me right now” she begs. Silence. 

He walks to the door and she grips his hand, pulling him back, he stares down at her. The pain was so evident on his face. “Do not walk out that door, I need you here with me” she says softly 

Simon clenches his jaw and pulls away from her, before rushing out of the door. She collapses to the ground as sobs wrack through her body uncontrollably. She wished nothing more than to go back to bed and act as though nothing happened. But she knew he could never do that. 

Simon struggled with his mental health, the horror and truama he experinced haunted him. He fought everyday for himself and their relationship. Emotions were incredibly tough for him, but he wanted to work through it for her, so he could be what she needed. Yet no matter how much progress he’d made, he always fucked it up. 

He walks through the empty streets, making his way to the beach. He sits on the shore and stares down at his hands. He could’ve killed her. One move and her neck would be broken. He was supposed to protect her, he promise he always would, but today the only threat in her life was him. He loved her so much, she was his home. She was the reason he was still breathing to this day. She saved simon from himself, just as he’d saved her back in Germany. Knowing that he’d hurt her made him sick. He was disgusted with himself and his actions. He wondered how she would ever forgive him, how could she trust him? 

-

She had been crying all night, she stayed up waiting for him to come back. Promising herself that if he hadn’t shown up by 8 am she would go out and look for him. If he wasn’t back by noon she would call the police. 

At ten till she puts on a pair of leggings and a hoodie, brushing her teeth as she prepped to leave. She goes to put on her shoes when the door opens quietly. She whips around staring at him as he enters their home. He instantly spots her and his body deflates. 

“Where were you?” she asks angrily 

“The beach” 

“Do you have any idea how fucking scared I was?” she yells arms crossed as she stares at him. He moves past her sitting on the edge of the couch running his hand through his tousled blonde hair. She sighs, seeing how much he was struggling. He refuses to meet her gaze as she moves closer to him, She places a hand on his thigh, stepping between his legs. 

“You can’t blame yourself, this was an accident. You were asleep, I shouldn’t have woken you up” she says softly 

“I could’ve killed you” he responds staring her dead in the eyes. “Do you have any idea how easy it would’ve been for me to break your neck? How can I trust myself around you? How can you trust me after I hurt you?” 

“There is no one in this world that I trust more than you” she responds “this doesn't change anything. I love you more than you could ever even imagine, you are such a dream to me Simon. Something happened, and now we work through it together, I won’t let you shut me out Si. There is nothing in this world that could change the way I love you, so please don’t give up on me, on us” 

Simon drops his head as tears fall down his cheeks once more. He grips onto her smaller body and pulls her into him. Holding her tightly against his built chest. Her arms go around his neck, finding comfort in his scent. “I love you so much, I can never express to you how sorry I am” 

“Don’t be sorry Si, just hold me”

ghost master list:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

a/n:

hey y'all, this is my first Simon Riley fic! It's a small chapter from a book I'm working on. Let me know if you want more!!

[soulessjourney]

T'ill I Go Blind

Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: When Gortash reveals details about your past relationship, Astarion refuses to entertain any of it.

Warnings: OOC Astarion, angst, mentions of truama, mentions of death, jelous Astarion, Gortash, fluff, Humor, Astarion of course making a few out of pocket comments, Scared Astarion

A/N: It's basically cannon at this point that Gortash and the Durge are exes or had something going on, so enjoy my depiction of just how their first meeting after so long would be like.

Who would have thought that you would find yourself standing in Baldur’s Gate, face-to-face with Gortash, who gazes at you with surprising tenderness? "Well, isn't it my favorite assassin? It has been too long since we indulged in each other's presence," he remarks. You raise a quizzical brow as your arms fold over your chest, leaning against the protective metal.

"Ah, yes. How could I forget? You lack the memories of what we once shared. A shame, truly. Your father never was one for the ideals of... affection." You resist the urge to let your jaw drop at his words, while Wyll stifles a laugh beside you.

"I'm sorry, but you're telling me you and Tav had some sort of connection?" he asks, looking between both of you. Beside you, Karlach goes stiff, and you reach out through your connected minds, assuring her that you have no clue about the nonsense the man is spouting. Upon your words, she visibly relaxes, folding her arms and shifting to stand a step in front of you, ready to protect you from the person she once trusted if need be.

"We did, in fact, have a connection, and that connection was the reason why your friend now has no memory of who she is," Gortash states, a frown appearing on his lips. "Her father felt threatened by the idea that his perfect assassin was falling for someone, so why not punish those who fell into forbidden love." From beside you, a sudden gag sounds, and Astarion clears his throat.

"I do apologize, but that had to be the most sickening thing I've ever heard, and I don't mean the fact that her father stripped away her memories." It's hard to suppress a laugh at Astarion's words, especially since you can feel the jealousy radiating off of him. Astarion is what you'd call a cat; he thrives when affection is given on his terms, but he is quite territorial with things that belong to him. In this case, you are that thing—mind, body, and soul. You are his human, and he would rather tear the world to shreds than give you up.

Reaching back, your fingers gently brush against him, and he seizes the opportunity to interlace his fingers with yours. A sense of safety and confidence washes over you as his hand firmly holds yours. Gortash, observant of the interaction, advances toward both of you, prompting a tenseness in your body.

"I see you've found a replacement, Little Flower," he remarks. The use of that nickname freezes you, causing your body to stiffen as memories flood your mind. Flashbacks of your younger self and Gortash flow through your consciousness. Despite the rugged and worn-down appearance, Gortash possessed qualities that rendered him remarkably handsome. In the recollection, you both stood in the middle of a flower field, having sneaked off after some convincing. He delicately placed a flower in your hair, affectionately uttering the same nickname.

Gortash notices the recognition in your eyes, prompting him to smile at Astarion. "Seems she remembers that exchange very well. The kiss we shared sealed our promise to one another. Yes, you two are quite...adorable, but let her stay where she belongs. It won't be long until your little romance disappears when her memories return."

Astarion vibrates with anger, and all you can do is squeeze his hand, offering silent reassurance. Gortash attempts to provoke him in a way he knows best, wanting to witness the dissolution of the bond you share. However, Astarion surprises everyone. Instead of reacting impulsively, he closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths, and regulates the tightness of his grip around your hand. He's wrestling with the urge to draw his knife and thrust it into Gortash's chest.

Your chest swells with pride at how far Astarion has come from the first encounter when he held a dagger to your throat. "I'll never let her go, not until she tells me to. And when she does, I'll do everything in my power to protect her from a distance because she doesn't deserve to revert to the life she once lived. Not when she's worked so hard to build herself a new life. Not when she's almost killed herself fighting the demons that claw at her, begging to escape."

A snort escapes Gortash as he listens to Astarion's words. "To think someone as powerful as you settled for that," he spits, redirecting his gaze toward you. "Have your fun, Little Flower, but as much as I would love to bring up the past and the memories we share, I have other matters to discuss with you," Gortash states, pacing around the room. "Your sister is stirring up trouble and making things difficult. Her newfound thirst for power after you left is creating tension in my city." You know precisely who he is referring to. In your few encounters with Orin, she made it clear that you both shared the same father.

"What Orin does is none of my concern. If she's hell-bent on trying to take something I don't even want, then let her. I don't know what kind of life I lived before this, but I don't want any part of it. I was given a second chance to finally live, and I won't be ruining that over some family drama," you shrug. You notice Karlach adopting a look of approval at your words. Seeing Gortash again is tough for her, especially now that you know you apparently had some kind of relationship before waking up on the ship.

Gortash sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and nods. "Yes, yes, I quite understand what you are saying. You're breaking free from those torturous chains, but your family matters affect the lives of those in Baldur's Gate. I don't care if you are sweeping your matters under the rug, but I want you to kill her. Take out Orin and bring me her stone, and when you do, I'll assist you in defeating the Elder Brain." Something about his words is taunting, making you question the truth of his alliance with you. Almost as if sensing your doubt, he leans against the table behind him.

"I do not wish to fool you; I don't stand for the loss of innocent lives. Orin is out of control, and the brain will wreak havoc if given the chance. If we can control the brain, we can destroy it."

Your mind races as you consider the situation. Releasing a defeated sigh, you clench your jaw, allowing your face to fall into a blank stare. "Fine, I'll kill her." The sound of your group protesting fills the room, echoing off the walls. Gortash only smiles at your words, letting his eyes lock onto yours as your friends attempt to talk some sense into you. After a few minutes, Gortash dismisses you and leaves the room.

Your companions follow behind you, attempting to get your attention before Karlach finally speaks up. "Tav, stop walking away. You know what he did to me and the hell I've lived through. Accepting his offer is a betrayal to me, so you better explain. If you don't, then I have no choice but not to trust you or to stay in the group." Her words hit you hard. She was like your sister, a reason for you to live.

"I'm playing him at his own game. We saw the power these stones had over the brain when we fought Thorm, meaning he had plans for them when he got them all to himself. Trust me, Karlach, I don't trust him either, but we need to take advantage of this. He could be the key to leading us right to the brain so we can destroy it, so I can save all of us," you whisper, looking up at your friend.

Karlach meets your eyes, searching them as if trying to detect any lies in your words. So, you open your mind to her, letting her read your intention with Gortash. Silence fills the area around your group as they wait for Karlach's response. "I trust you," she finally says, sending you a bright smile. You let out a breath of relief at her words as Astarion walks up beside you. You could feel how tense he felt, and you immediately knew something was wrong.

Things between the group had gotten tense after you entered Baldur's Gate. You felt the urge calling to you more than ever before; Astarion was only steps away from having to see Cazador again, and Karlach finally had to come face to face with the person she trusted her life with and who stabbed her in the back. Sending him a look, he nods slightly before looking away. It was a silent communication that you two would be talking when you got back to camp, and you could only hope this wouldn't end in a fight between you two.

---

Upon your arrival, you couldn't help but notice how Astarion immediately headed toward a shaded area. Jaheira spoke quietly to you about matters that needed attention in the city, but your gaze remained fixed on your lover. Jaheira fell silent before laughing quietly, drawing your attention back to her. "You two are quite fond of one another. Go to him; you've been worried about him since the walk back," she said, patting your arm soothingly. Nodding in gratitude, you walked towards Astarion.

He sat on the ground, gazing up at the sky, with rays of sunshine warming his face through the leaves. Stopping behind him, you were unsure of how to initiate the conversation between the two of you. "Star," you said, your voice carried by the slight breeze swirling around you. You sensed him tense, knowing that the forthcoming discussion would likely be tense as well.

With his back to you, he leaned his arms on his knees, shifting his gaze ahead. "So, you were the one involved with the absolute and why we're like this," he stated. Your heart dropped as you looked down. Indeed, you were. Your memories flooded back when you entered Wyrm’s Crossing, remembering who you were, who your father was, and what he wanted you to carry out.

"As angry as I want to be with you, I can't. I know what it's like to feel trapped under a command without being able to escape. I mean, look at what Cazador made me do. I want to be angry, but I just can't," he continued, and your shoulders dropped as you listened to his words. "But that's not why I'm questioning things. Not us; I could never question us. What I'm questioning is what will happen when you fully regain your memory. You and Gortash obviously have something, or rather had something. He talked to you like he was seeing his lover all over again. He looked at you like he was undressing you, ready to show our group of lovely friends that you still belong to him."

There it was—the feeling of your heart shattering in your chest as you listened to his words. He was terrified of losing you, and you had no idea how to reassure him that you're his.

Moving to stand in front of him, you drop to your knees and gently grasp his face in your hands. Opening and closing your mouth, no words escape you. Lost in his eyes—those crimson-red orbs that appear scared and broken—a part of you feels angry, angry at yourself and angry at Gortash for dredging up a past you have no memory of, a past you never want to revisit.

“I meant it when I told you that you mean a lot to me, Star,” you finally say, brushing your thumbs against his cheek. “You’re my entire world. You stayed by my side when the urge wracked my body, when I attempted to take your life that night. You didn’t judge me when it got so bad I caved and harmed an innocent person. You held me and told me that I could beat those urges. You saved me, Astarion, and I will not be leaving you.” His tears begin to pool under the pad of your thumb as you speak.

“Losing my memory was my second chance at life, and then I met you. You gave me something worth living for. Hells, all of our friends did, and I refuse to go back to that life I once lived. I don’t want to be a killer, and I don’t want to be his daughter. I want to be my own person. I want to be able to make my own decisions and control my own body and mind. So, my little Star, I won’t be going anywhere because my home is right here by your side.”

You can tell your words have moved him in some way as he is now fully sobbing. Pulling him to you, you let his head fall onto your chest as you allow him to fall apart in your arms. The fear that plagued him during your meeting with Gortash finally leaves him as he deflates in your embrace. Soon, his sobs quieten, and you both lie under the tree, his arms wrapped tightly around you, almost as if he fears you will disappear if he lets go. In that moment, a peaceful and intimate moment, three words are finally shared between you two. In that moment, you vow to destroy Cazador and show him what true power is. In that moment, the urge claws at your insides, begging to be unleashed, and soon enough, you will let it take over your very being.

[2cutie]

Since you're opening requests, bi han x fem reader truama bonding over their daddy issues😁

anon, why must you call me out like this? im not saying bi-han could fix my daddy issues, i'm just saying he's very pretty & would probably make them worse. i'd still tap it.

Your relationship, if you could call it one, to your father was strained. Connection was minimal; you were left with an absence in your heart. In your upbringing, you had been brought into the Lin Kuei for being a potentially successful warrior. You were brought in relatively young, so you had mostly grown up with Bi-Han and his brothers.

But after time, the future grandmaster and you had an upspoken bond that you didn't share with others. You two never spoke much about it, but the parallel connection was there. You knew his father for a long enough time before his death to see how alike it was to your own, and the strain he put on Bi-Han. His life seemed akin to yours, specifically with how yours had molded you.

The past trauma you constantly buried down was weighing on you. So you sat alone in one of the gardens of the temple, where you knew minimal people visited. You were in your thoughts, your memories and past, and allowing yourself to wallow solemn. It was your own form of growth.

Bi-Han had been wondering the halls. His mind was rampant with alike thoughts and couldn't focus on his work. He's no better at healthily dealing with emotions, so instead of trying to manage and work through them, he decided to walk and let the thoughts drift off naturally.

He ended up passing through the gardens and saw you there, sitting on the bench. He didn't pay much mind at first, instead quickening his pace since he wanted minimal interaction in his avoidant state.

But you weren't moving. Barely blinking. You were typically a bit more on the hyperactive side. He wasn't used to such a… phlegmatic stance from you.

The more he looked, the more he saw the barely-there glaze in your eyes.

Bi-Han may not have the greatest grip on emotions but he could identify them in another person. He found himself approaching you. He eventually sat beside you, though you didn't seem to notice right away.

You didn't state anything, but he seemed to know where your thoughts were,; as if yours and his mind were intertwining. It's like he heard your unbridled emotions you never spoke to, ones he knew. It gave him a reason to sit and reflect.

As he stayed, he looked to you. He thought to the past you shared. About how much had changed, and how much older you were now. It was something he never took the time to think about, but your silence was so off-kilter that it made you seem too old. Too hurt and scarred for your age. He never would admit that he preferred your normal persona to this absent visage of you.

But mostly, he didn't want you to be like him. To become what he was, vacant and distant; the byproduct of his father's teachings. It didn't suit you.

Your eyes blinked then, like you heard his rampant thought. A gleam shone in them, even if it was faint. You moved for the first in quite some time. You met each other's eyes and there was an understanding there. As if your eyes could speak the memories that haunted you, as if they were displaying each of your younger selves that you both hid away, and still hid deep inside that stayed sheltered.

Your thoughts were between your father and life before the Lin Kuei. You had never even found solace in Bi-Han's father, either. There was a mutual estranged relationships there.

But the reciprocal bond had subjected you both to an understanding of the other. He could speak with his eyes and you could speak with yours, with no need for words. There would be no need to display emotions you both hid. The volumes your eyes spoke were parallel to each other's suffering. You were in sync to each other without having your problems being exactly the same.

You saw how Bi-Han never accepted his father's teachings. How he grew indifferent to them, and seemed outcasted by his father. It was why he wanted to break tradition, and it seemed only you had noticed that. Only you respected that. And that brought solace to him; a peace he could not find in anyone else.

You then moved closer to him, just a bit. Just until both of your arms would press against each other. It was ever subtle, but it was an evident sign of trust. Of comfort. For both you and him.

Bi-Han's eyes would follow the movement. It was a simple gesture, but it resonated within him. He was devoid to expression, but even he could be affected by such a simple gesticulation. And yours were one he could never deny. One he could feel at ease with.

It was a elusive display that you both cared for each other, just not in an expressive way.

He would stay with you then, until you felt better. Until you gained yourself again, or even just a small fragment. He didn't care how long it would take. There weren't many words to say, even less that needed to be spoken.

You stayed alone in the garden together, in each other's mutual comfort of each other and that was enough for the both of you. To be vulnerable with each other yet still maintain a front. You both saw past each other's exterior. You were one of the same.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Could you possibly do a Jason Todd x Male reader Hurt/ comfort smut?

Jason had been going into a depressive episode little by little, has well has his truama coming back.

So the reader decides that he is going to do something that he feels no one has done in a while.

When Jason gets out of the shower still in just a towel, the reader stops him from getting dressed and leads him to their shared bed. Jason is actually a little anxious at this, because he can't quite read the facial expression. Starts to overthink a little, then the reader tells Jason to lay down on the bed. The reader starts kisses every scar on Jason's body, leaving no cut too small to kiss.

Jason slowly going into subspace has the reader tells him, he's not what joker made him, or what Batman wants him to be. But he's 'my sweet boy' and telling Jason how much of a good boyfriend he is. Instead of them having sex, to Jason it actually feels like they are making love.

Jason Todd x male reader

Headcanons

Guess who’s not dead, just been battling major writers block and spending my free time playing Obey me Nightbringer. Idk if this is as smutty as you had hoped, but I hope you like it anyways.

It wasn’t unusual for Jason to spiral or backpedal when it came to his mental health. Dying and being brought back to life can be plenty damaging on your psyche and mix that with everything else in Jason’s life it’s no surprise he crumbles at times.

Jason, as much as he hates to admit it, is similar to Bruce when it comes to his weaknesses. He likes to hide them and ignore they’re existence until the feelings pass, so you’d have to figure out he’s struggling on your own.

Its either discovered on your own, or its because you two have dated for a long time and he truly feels safe with you, and tells you about his mental state.

So, when you notice him spiraling again, you decide to take care of him the way he deserves. So, rolling up your sleeves, you get to work getting everything ready.

You get his favorite things, like snacks and drinks, fins his favorite movies or shows, his comfort blankets and clothes, incase he wants to wear said clothes, and get your shared bedroom ready.

When Jason steps out of the bathroom its clear just from his body language that he’s about to collapse in on himself, from his slumped shoulders and pained eyes, its not hard to see.

When Jason goes to get dressed you lead him away from it, kiss him softly, and lead him towards your shared bed whilst pulling the towel off his hips.

He’s anxious of course, because his mental state isn’t really on his side and keeps filling his head with lies, that he isn’t good enough for you and is disgusting.

But Jason can’t stop his soft cock from thickening up with blood as you rub your hands down his front as you push him down onto the sheets. It’s not difficult to get Jasons body into gear, as he’s touch starved and aches for your touch on a good day.

Jason can only half bury his face into the pillow as you rub him down, a shuddered breath leaving him as you start pressing soft wet kisses all over his body, nipping at his skin at times and running your tongue over some of his scars.

In the beginning he tenses when you touch his scars, but when the praise starts Jason almost melts into the mattress. His thick muscular thighs fall apart like your Moses parting the red sea, his body immediately quivering as he grows harder and harder.

Jason will shyly look down at you as you work your way down his stomach, his thighs twitching as you kiss a scar in the seam between his thigh and his crotch. He’s red in the face and is regularly swallowing as spit gathers in his mouth. Jasons scarred hands are gripping onto the pillow and sheets as a lifeline, his body wound tight like the string on a bow.

When you move away from his crotch to kiss down his legs he whines, oh so softly and broken, a keen that comes from deep in his chest, that he is extremely embarrassed for making.

But when you run the flat of your tongue over the inner side of his knee, his hard length twitches against his stomach, dripping precum into a tiny wet puddle. His cock is turning red from lack of attention, and Jasons hitched breaths sound almost like he’s crying.

In the beginning Jason would fight subspace, as part of him doesn’t believe he deserves the relief of it, but all your praise and kisses and attention chips away at his resolve, and when he finally tumbles clumsily into the comfort of subspace, you make sure to praise him so much.

When you work him open Jason just takes it, drooling into the fabric of the pillow as he struggles to keep his legs open, to give you room to work. Jason ends up reaching a point where he can’t even speak with how deeply he’s floating, you still make sure he’s fully along for the ride. It ends up getting you many frustrated and whiny whimpers when you keep stopping for his approval, but you want to make fully sure.

When you push inside him Jason almost sobs, finally looking you in the eye with his wet puppy dog eyes. His pretty pink lips are in a pout, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning in and taking it between your teeth to give it a nibble and a suckle.

The two of you start sloppily kissing as you begin moving, your hips drawing back and forth with little to no rhythm, your tongues running against one another with little rhyme nor reason.

Jason shakily wraps his arms around you, breathless begs passing his lips for you to move faster, to make him feel more pleasure, to give him what you think he deserves.

But you never move hard enough to hurt him, only laying it on even thicker with the praise and love, and the love is what ends up making Jason cry as his heart feels so full by your side.

There is no rush to your coupling, the two of you taking all the time you need, your mutual orgasms drawing up slowly over time. They start in your toes and slowly climb their way up your legs, up your spine, and finally you both burst together.

The wobbly wet whimper Jason lets out when he finishes it all you need to push you over the edge, because that noise is only one he ever truly lets out when he feels open and loved enough to be vulnerable, and knowing he feels like that for you is all the push you need.

Aftercare is an absolute, no matter the mental state either of you are in. Even if you two have a quickie you always check up on each other, so when you are finally able to carefully pull you, much to Jason’s warbled complaints, you make sure to take care of him.

The praise and love keep leaving your lips as you wipe him down with a warm damp cloth, kissing his palms and the soles of his feet as you clean him up, his eyes unseeing but brimming with love and trust.

Jason seems against the idea of getting dressed, so you two just end up snuggling under a clean blanket you readied earlier, your scarred lover cuddled into your neck, tucked right up under your chin where he can feel your pulse and hear you breathe.

One of Jasons favorite movies is playing in the background, but your partner is still floating off somewhere in subspace, so you just hold him and love on him until he drifts away into a dreamless sleep, his soft breaths being all you need to know that he’s asleep.

[the-honkers]

Tbh it’s kinda sad how much drama there is in DID spaces

The only things people don’t end up fake claiming are really depressing posts about how much it sucks to have DID

And don’t get me wrong, it does suck a lot…like a lot a lot. But it feels like half of the people who post about it are only venting their Truama and the other half get called fake for having fun with it?

Of course there’s fakers and of course some of those people are wrong but do we have to do this with every single person?? Like you don’t know a person through what they post/share on social media, just block them and move on if you really think they are faking

Idk what this rant is but we definitely wanna help spread positivity that’s for sure. World needs more kindness

-🎃🐺Pumkin Hunter

[sleepy-as-a-song]

My pov as a sa victim

Tw:sa, the Jack drama, sh, truama talk

I’m sorry in advance if this doesn’t make much sense, I’m sick at the moment but felt this could not wait.

———

I won’t share too much about my sa as it’s not needed, but I will share this: I spent months - maybe even closer to a year - searching for media that covered male sa. So long. I was so excited when I discovered the odessey because it was one of the only male sa stories I had ever seen - and probably the one with the least victim blaming too.

It made me feel seen.

I don’t know Jack well. I know him in roleplay and that’s it. I don’t know anything about his truama and I don’t know anything about what he’s been through.

Jack says he uses roleplay to cope. That is okay, I do too. However Jack should have never made the au. He shouldn’t have. Ever.

Au’s are alternate versions of the story, yes. It still has the base of the story. This is not an au because it completely changes the story - it’s just messed up.

I don’t know if Jack is a sa victim. If he is, I hope he learns better ways to cope with it. But if he is *not* then this is just cruel. To take the little representation male victims have - that *I* have - and change it because you think it’s okay is…harmful. It’s cruel.

I don’t know if Freddy is a real person, I don’t care. No one should have to fall into those habits because of hate. Do not send hate jacks way.

Self harm and break downs are something I hope no one ever has to deal with and if Jack has to deal with them, I am so sorry he does. It’s an awful thing to deal with, as I struggle with it myself.

If Freddy is not real, I hope Jack learns that what he’s doing is manipulative and wrong. I hope he copes with his truama and comes to understand why what he did was hurtful.

Also, if Freddy is not real - this is incredibly manipulative and wrong to do. No one should use self harm and break downs to guilt others into silence. This situation should be talked about - Jack should not to sent hate, but he should not be sent hate, death threats or anything else.

Bad people do not change, hate won’t do anything at all. I do not think Jack is a horrible person, but I think his actions are bad.

To Lilly, ( @unhinged-waterlilly ) as a fellow victim I’m so sorry you had to deal Witt everything first hand. That seems awful and I can’t imagine bringing in your place. You are allowed to not like Jack - you can hate him if you want. I hope the best for you and that you are treated with kindness and respect, and that you know how much you speaking out helps others feel more comfortable speaking out. I don’t know yoy well but I know I’m so thankful to have the situation brought to my attention.

To calix, ( @if-chaos-was-a-boy ) I hope everyone effected by this situation is able to recover from it if it effects yoy, and I hope any fellow victims are able to cope with everything going on.

Apologies for the tags.

@zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite @fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son @bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @hispanic-child-of-hermes @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial @reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia @that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass @kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @i-was-never-sane @clown-energy-skyrocketing @zoe-aura-of-d3ath @itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena @smileyalater @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan @demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @southerndaughterofeos @creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes @cloak-of-ares @heraaaaaaaa @unproblematic-hestia

[selunesdreams]

wip whenever

I was tagged by the lovely @shewhowas39! Thank you!

I'm currently working on the 51st chapter of my Astarion post-tadpole fic, Forms of Imprisonment.

I traumatized everyone enough for the last several chapters so the latter half of this one is a smutty reward before just a *little* more truama. Enjoy a snippet.

(Warnings for smut/piv/Astarion throwing a fit.)

***

“Absolutely, bloody not!” Astarion slams the heel of his palm against the kitchen counter, and Celeste flinches at the sound. With an apologetic grimace, he steps forward, and cradles Celeste’s face in his trembling hands.

“I won’t let you do this.” His fingertips drag across her skin in soft desperation.

“You have to.” Her wide eyes glisten with unshed tears. Astarion’s face falls, his heart sinking.

“Please,” he croaks, “I just got you back.”

Wyll rises from the table. “Astarion, she’s more than capable of handling herself. And even if she can’t, none of us would let anything happen to her.” 

“You think it’s that easy?” he snarls, releasing Celeste and stepping closer. Wyll stands his ground, arms crossed, his expression unwavering.

“No one said it was easy, but-“

“You haven’t seen what I’ve seen. What they are capable of. That vampire has power Cazador couldn’t even dream of!”

Karlach steps between them, her touch gentle as she squeezes Astarion’s shoulder.

“That’s enough of that, big guy.”

“This is our best chance,” Gale interjects, his voice steady. “If we don’t act soon, we risk them wiping her mind again. Or worse.”

“I know, alright? I know!” he barks, stepping out of Karlach’s reach. “That doesn’t mean I have to accept it.”

“I’ll inform Aylin and Isobel.” Shadowheart says to the others, giving him a concerned sideways glance. “Everyone should get some rest. Tomorrow is bound to be…tough.”

Astarion seethes silently as his companions depart, each of them knowing better than to make an attempt at consoling him. He turns away to brace himself against the counter once more, staring at the surface.

Celeste finger’s brush against his bicep, and she tugs at his sleeve.

“Don’t be like this. Not on what could be-“

“Don’t finish that sentence.” He growls, so quiet he’s sure that only she can hear him, “Just...don’t.”

Celeste wraps her arms around him from behind and rests her head between his shoulder blades. In that moment, all the fight seems to leave him, and he slumps back against her, his body relaxing against her touch. He lets out a shaky sigh, his head falling to the crook of her neck.

“I do love you, you know,” he finally says, his lips brushing against her jaw, “that is the one thing I would wager my life upon.”

“I know you do, Astarion.”

They stay that way for a long moment before she pushes him forward, breaking the embrace. Astarion straightens, his weary eyes meeting hers, and she reaches for his hand, offering him a sad smile.

“Come to bed.”

As if in a daze, he lets her lead him to their shared room, his hand loosely tangled with hers. Once inside, he closes the door behind them and pins her to it with a sense of urgency, bracing an arm against the wall above her head. His lips find hers, hesitant, as she takes a shallow inhale.

“Can I...” he says hoarsely.

His index finger trails from her cheek to the base of her throat, and she gives into his kiss, as if it could stop any of this. As if every moment of reprieve shared between them hadn’t soon been followed by a terrible fate. 

She removes her shirt, her breasts falling free, and locks her wrists behind his neck.

“Anything.”

He lifts her effortlessly, his hands gripping her thighs, and she wraps her legs around his waist as he presses her harder between himself and the door. Adjusting his hold, he places a hand on the small of her back and carries her to bed.

As he eases her on top of the sheets, he slips off his own shirt and unfastens his trousers, staring down at her with a hungry look that doesn’t quite hide the fear lingering in his eyes. His cock springs free, revealing he’d been wearing nothing underneath, and in a fluid motion, he tugs off her pants and panties in a single pass before crawling over her. Resting his weight on his forearms, he takes the hand she has splayed over his heart, twining their fingers together and pins it to the mattress. 

Astarion watches her intently, the ruby of his irises aflame in the low light of the room, only illuminated by the silver moon outside the broken window. He basks in the otherworldliness of it before he finally dips his head to kiss her neck. His fangs gently scrape her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as she arches her back.

He takes his time, exploring every inch of her torso. He weaves past her breasts, across her stomach, to her hips. Everything is a blur. The sensation of time lost, words that linger on his tongue, that he repeats like a mantra within the confines of his mind.

His palms shadow his mouth’s path along the expanse of her stomach as he moves to kiss just inside her knee, draping her leg over his shoulder.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathes, his fingertips tracing a slow path along her inner thigh, a seductive grin playing on his lips.

“Please, just…come here.” She rasps, reaching for him with outstretched fingers.

He doesn’t break eye contact as crawls back over her, letting her leg fall to his waist, causing his erection to brush between her thighs. Her breath hitches and he captures her lips in a deep and slow kiss, his free hand fisting in her hair.

His tongue dips into her mouth, a familiar and practiced motion that’s become instinctive. He keeps her pinned for what feels like an eternity, kissing her as if it were the last time, and eases himself into her with a low groan. She brings her knees higher, moving her hips with his as he drives into her. 

“That’s it, my sweet,” he purrs. 

With a reverent touch, his hands roam over her body. 

“I need, I need…fuck.”

His grip on her hair tightens, and he leans down to drag his tongue over her collarbone. Her hands grasp at his biceps, fingernails digging into his flesh as she tries to pull him closer. 

He moves with deliberate and languid strokes, savoring every moment as his eyes lock with hers, watching each of her small, minute reactions with a possessive attention. He drops his head, rocking it from side to side against her shoulder. 

“Gods, you’re so beautiful like this,” he groans, “everything I-“

A cry of pleasure stifles his words as she kisses his chest, lips trailing to his throat as her fingers tangle in his hair. She tugs his head back ever so slightly, and his moans become breathier as he lets them turn into desperate whines.

Celeste pants softly with each thrust, a high-pitched whimper accompanying every other exhale, and presses their foreheads together. 

He kisses her, and groans against her mouth, “I’m close. Please, I’m so…”

“Yes?” she murmurs, her tongue tracing his bottom lip. 

Suddenly, he pulls away, sitting upright between her legs. His chest heaves as he gazes down at her, taking in her flushed, breathless form. 

“Roll over for me, darling.”

---

no pressure tagging @yourworsttotebag because I'm obsessed with their fics! (esp Gale and Evie UGH).

[signanothername]

No idea if last ask went through cause spotty connection.

But this song (Ship in a Bottle) = ✨Truama Dadtide✨

It did, it just got there after this one hahaha

AND IM CRYING, I LITERALLY SAW THIS, LISTENED TO THE SONG AND COULD NOT HOLD BACK THE URGE TO MAKE SOMETHING QUICK

ITS SO DADTIDE IM CRYING AAAHHH MY BELOVED TRAUMATIZED GRANDPA 😭❤️🌷✨

Thank you so much for sharing this i’ll never be the same ever again /pos