#tw: trauma flashback

[psychocitysblog]

Why does being alive have to be so hard?

[blitzwhore]

Tell me why I just spent an hour of my night imagining what would happen if, during the trial, it was revealed in front of all the Goetias that Blitz caused the fire, and Blitz was present, and he got really really triggered so he ran outside and Stolas followed him and found him cowering in a corner.

And then Stolas tried to touch Blitz, but Blitz hissed and hid his face, and so Stolas asked, “Darling, can I hold you? Let me hold you...” and very carefully rested his hands on Blitz before pulling him very close, at which point Blitz buried his face in Stolas' chest feathers because he couldn't bear the thought of Stolas seeing him break down like this, but he also agonizingly craved the the physical comfort.

And so Blitz just cried, and cried, and cried, feeling like he was about to die and he couldn't breathe past this and he was falling apart. And Stolas held him through it, not knowing what to do, just rocking him slowly and holding him tightly while Blitz sobbed and gasped for air, whispering over and over again, “I'm right here, I won't let go, I've got you, I'm not going anywhere.”

And eventually—after many minutes—Blitz's sobs died down, but he was still crying, just silently now, heavy tears rolling down his cheeks as he breathed Stolas in and tried to regain some semblance of control over his body. Still feeling terrified, still so, so scared that Stolas would let go of him and he would break.

Stolas didn't let go, though, and just kissed the top of his head over and over again, running his fingers up and down Blitz's back, trying desperately to comfort him. And eventually, Stolas said, “I didn't know... I had no idea...” not knowing how to finish those sentences. And, after hiccuping and fighting to catch his breath, Blitz mumbled “I—I—” but he couldn't form a single word without breaking down. So Stolas said, “It's okay, dearest. You don't have to talk about it,” but Blitz replied, “I-I want to, but I—I can't.”

And then Stolas said, “You could write it down... Would that help?” but Blitz just shook his head against his chest feathers, arguing that, “I would just m-misspell everything. I—give me a moment.” So Stolas did, holding him tight, not letting go, never letting go, and Blitz, after several seconds of trying to speak and failing, finally managed a muffled, “I was...” And then, after a few more moments, “I-I was in love with him.”

And Stolas didn't say anything—just let that information sink in heavily in his heart, that Blitz had been in love before, with someone else—and waited for Blitz to continue. “W-With Fizz. I was—I wanted to—t-to tell him. On his birthday. But I couldn't. I—” And Blitz sobbed again. “I chickened out, and pushed the guy carrying the cake, and the candles—they—”

And Stolas thought... Oh. The fire. That's how it started. His arms tightening around Blitz again, pulling him close as Blitz went on, “And Fizz was right by the fireworks when they went off and he—a-and—”

“Oh. Oh, Blitz,” Stolas rasped out, tears welling in his eyes as he took in the horror of what Blitz was describing, of causing such a horrible accident to happen. And Blitz hiccuped against his chest, his fingers digging into Stolas' sides as he held on to him with wild desperation, and said, “A-And my—my mom—” but couldn't continue, breaking down into sobs again as Stolas rocked him back and forth, back and forth, cheek pressed against Blitz's head, crying silently at the horror of what Blitz had been through. Whispering, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, darling.”

And Blitz clung to Stolas, feeling like he might die if Stolas let go now, feeling like even this much touch wasn't enough, like he needed to crawl inside Stolas' chest, needed to be held so fully and overwhelmingly in order to not feel like he would disintegrate at any second. But, at the same time, he felt completely unworthy of this; of Stolas. “I'm a monster,” he sobbed. And again, “I'm a monster.” And Stolas pulled him desperately closer, saying, “You are not a monster, Blitz. It was an accident. It was a tragedy, it was horrifying, but it wasn't your fault,” needing Blitz to believe it.

But Blitz couldn't, shaking his head, crying, hating himself. Hating the all-encompassing aching in his chest that made him feel like he might die from it.

“It wasn't your fault,” Stolas repeated. “I'm so sorry, Blitz. I'm so sorry this happened. I'm sorry I found out like this.” Cradling him back and forth, back and forth. “I'm sorry. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm here.”

And it was true, Blitz realized. Stolas still hadn't let go of him. His body started to believe it. He still wasn't ready to let go, though. But that was okay with Stolas, who wasn't going anywhere. No matter how long it took, he would stay with Blitz, and hold him through it.

... Aaaaand I had no idea how this mental scene played out after that so um. Bye!

[iridiss]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (you are here) | Part 4

hey so what if (Diaries) Gene was the one who tortured Laurance

[traumatizeddfox]

havent slept in 3 days

[whumpetywhump]

Mansuang (2023)

"All they want is my body. My pretty outer shell."

[dying-weeds]

[witch-hazels-musings]

reel me in 

warning: angst -> comfort | fighter!reader and character are sparring but when reader gets pinned to the ground, they recall a traumatic event (non-specific, but hints at a near-death experience from past fight), and start to panic - the characters calm them down and bring them comfort (tw: pinned to the ground, feeling of being trapped, anxiety and difficulties breathing, sparring leads to panic)

character x gn reader | request | anthology 

includes: childe, kaeya

Childe

“Is that all you’ve got?” You cried out through heaving breaths. Every muscle in your body was screaming from the onslaught of blows, but it made you feel alive. Fighting Childe was like wrestling the sun - and you were obsessed. 

Childe straightened, turning back toward you with a grin so wide you knew your taunt would get him going. The way his eyes flashed in the sunlight, the shimmer of sweat on his shoulders, biceps made your heart flutter. It was so exciting - the heat of battle - no wonder Childe loved sparring so much. 

“You want more?” He beamed, stalking toward you, slowly, meticulously, his eyes trained on you as if you were prey in the woods. “Then don’t hold back. Let me see it all!” He roared as he dashed your way. His water-blade crashing against your two daggers. Sending a shockwave through your arms. It hit your chest with so much force that you pushed against him, sliding on the dirt to reposition and get a better angle but he was ready with another swipe. You barely ducked out the way in time. 

The match was heated, invigorating. The two of you lost yourselves in the midst of it all. Egging the other on, laughing at the thrill, pushing until something was certain to break. You just didn’t expect it to be like this ... didn’t expect it to be you. 

With expert skill, you dodged away from his swing. Twisting your foot and leg leg so you could roll over his back and slip into the tiny opening he left, but when you landed on the other side of him, his leg swiped yours and you fell, hard, onto the dirt. The force knocked the wind out of you. A rock punched against your shoulder making your arm go numb for just a moment, but long enough that he could take full control. 

His hands grabbed your wrists so you couldn’t swing at him. Faster than you could comprehend, he had you pinned. Disarmed with your hands under your arching back, he held you captive. 

Shaking your head didn’t relieve the fog, struggling only made it worse. The sweat on your brow stung your eyes until you could barely make out his figure. Then, it all came flooding back. 

“Now that was fun,” Childe panted above you, his hair clinging to his forehead, his cheek, but you could hardly see his familiar, comforting face. The past was crashing into you, and you couldn't’ breath. 

“G --- et off ---” 

“Don’t tell me you can’t overtake me. Hah, you’re better than that --” Childe teased but you weren’t having fun anymore. Panic started to set in, your heart was beating erratically, out of rhythm and control. You shook your head, thrashed just like you did once before - yet nothing changed, just like ...  “... and we were just getting sta-” 

“G-GET OFF!” You screamed. The words came out strangled, fearful. Childe let you go and you scrambled out from under him. Your nails digging through the dirt in a frantic escape. “get off. get off ...” You groaned, crawling free from him until there was enough distance for you to catch your breath. 

“Woah, are you alr-” Childe’s words caught in his throat when you turned to sit on the ground, arms coiled around your legs, hands shaking as they hid your face from him. “Hey --” he called to you. Calmly, softly, but you didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. In your mind it was still happening, and you needed it to stop. 

Everything was turned to maximum. Every sound, every smell, every sense in you stung. Your mind was on fire and you couldn’t calm it down. Something touched the fingers digging into your leg so you violently swatted it off until your hand came to a stop and your itching eyes found the reason. 

Childe was kneeling in front of you, his expression twisted to one you’d never seen before. His common smile was turned into a deep frown, brows furrowed and eyes were searching you intently. His jaw clenched, the hand holding yours looked pale. 

Still shaking, you wiped your eyes and he slowly came back into focus. This wasn’t your past, you weren’t about to die alone, beaten, bloodied - you were safe. You were safe. 

In an instant, you twisted your hand to grip his wrist and held on so tightly that his arm began to shake.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, head shaking to return to your senses. The noise was starting to fade; you took a few more breaths to bring it back to normal. 

“You went somewhere else on me ...” 

“I know -- I’m sorry,” you apologized, swallowing to wet your dry throat. “I’m alright now.” 

“What’s the matter?” 

“Nothing, I promise. It’s ... it’s nothing,” you pressed your fingers to your forehead and shook again, mostly to work out your nerves, but the action didn’t convince him you were okay. 

The dirt around you crunched, grinded against itself as he moved toward you. When you glanced at him under your salty fingers, you noticed he was blocking you with his long legs. One at either side as if to be a human shield. 

You sighed, and tried to get him to ease off, “I’m really okay -” 

“A warrior must be ready to face any challenge,” he began, cutting you off as if you never said them, “In victories or in failures, the outcome is irrelevant - what matters,” he said as he tugged your arm and pushed against the hand blocking you from his sight. You moved them only enough so you could see his eyes, and he could see yours, “what matters is learning from the experience. You are here to fight again. You survived - no matter what it took to do so.” 

Childe’s gaze was intense, his words pierced your heart making it difficult to breathe again but he was right. You survived. You were here and that’s what matters. 

Your lips trembled, so you adjusted your grip on his wrist and held tightly.

“I survived,” you whispered. 

“You survived.” 

“I survived,” you repeated and covered your face while Childe shielded you from the rest of the world. 

-- 

Day’s later you shared with him what had happened and he listened without judgement. You noticed how he incorporated some new moves into his training with you - ones to avoid the mistakes of your past and then, without prompting, on a warm summer night, he told you of his own and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. 

--

Kaeya 

“Pick it up!” you shouted to the knights as they ran through their drills. By this point they shouldn’t be so sloppy, but it seemed your expectations for them were too high. 

Groaning, you turned the other way and began to clean up the training grounds. Practice swords, spears, and other equipment were left on the dirt and even though you weren’t the only one tasked with training the new recruits, you knew your partner wouldn’t be much help. 

“How’s it going, teacher?” Kaeya’s silvery voice slipped through your annoyance like water passes through a fisherman's net. Unfortunately for him, you weren’t in the mood to hear it. 

“Fine. Here,” you said and handed him the pile you’d managed to pick up while he was standing in the shade, “Take these back to the racks for me.” 

“My, what a cold temper you have,” he teased. Even though you couldn’t see it, you knew he held a smirk on his lips. “And here I was coming over to congratulate you on all your hard work.” 

“Ha,” you huffed. You were starting to wonder if Jean was mad at you. Why else would she ask you to work with this ... this ... slacker. He may be pretty, and you, stupidly, had a crush on him, but why was he always so ... aggravating. “If you’re not going to help me, at least don’t stand by sidelines watching. It creeps me out.” 

Kaeya picked up the pace so he could match your strides. It was easy for him with his long legs and all. “I thought you loved when my eyes were on you?” 

Luckily you were already so irritated. If you weren’t you probably would have been more affected by his comment, “Nope. Not me.” 

“Really?” 

“Mmhm. Ugh,” stopping suddenly, you shouted toward the recruits to come back but when you glanced back at Kaeya, he was just standing there, smiling. “Are you going to help me with the demonstration or not?” 

“Why of course,” he beamed and you wanted to punch him. 

“Good. Grab us some swords and meet me in the circle.” He gave you a playful confirmation before walking off toward the racks. 

Why couldn’t you have fallen for someone else? You asked yourself as you headed toward the panting new knights to explain the next portion of their training. It wasn’t the first time you had them spar with each other, but this time you were going to be demonstrating several moves they needed to learn in order to stay alive. As much fun as being an aggressor is, if you didn’t learn how to block or dodge oncoming attacks - well, the research institute was working on some new mechanical prosthetics if they needed it.

Once Kaeya returned, you had him demonstrate several jabs so you could show them how to avoid. After that, you had them mimic you as you moved out f the way of Kaeya’s swings. It was almost like a dance, the two of you, and it was starting to draw an unnecessary crowd. 

“Shall we show them in real time?” Kaeya inquired with a smile, “They are unlikely to fight slow moving assailants after all.” 

You weren’t really planning on doing that, but he was right, so you relented. “Alright, but don’t throw out anything fancy.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he hummed, getting into his stance. 

“Alright - watch us closely and count how many times I use the moves we just showed you. Got it?” The knights nodded so you got into position. “Let’s go.” 

Lunging forward, you made the first contact and Kaeya deflected it easily. He reacted faster than you planned with a counter swing that you had to narrowly block with the edge of your wooden sword. The noise rang out across the training ground drawing an audible gasp from the crowd. 

The two of you started simple but eventually lost yourself in the spar. Kaeya moved like a skater on ice and you danced along with him. The feeling of the wind rushing past your face as you dipped under his swings, when you swirled past him to get the advantage. It was a blast, and reminded you why you fell for him so hard. 

Kaeya might be a slacker, but his swordplay was flawless. 

You wanted to bring it back to focus but Kaeya was distracted and before you knew it, your guard was too far down to catch his next move. Like a flash of lightning, he was in front of you one second and behind you the next. Your weapon swung up to block a blow to your chest but you were off balance and fell backward as he had intended. Before you could taken in a breath, Kaeya was gripping your arm and twisting it behind your back while his play sword rested against your neck and his cheek pushed against the side of your head. 

“Got you,” he declared and pulled you closer to him. You were captured, and it distorted your reality. 

It was like you fell into a deep pool. Your body went cold, your mind triggered every alarm it could as you wiggled against him to get free but he was having too much fun to notice that you were clearly not. 

“Kae--” 

“We certainly put on a show,” his voice drifted past you but you could hardly hear him. Waves crashed against your senses, deafening the world around you. It felt impossible to catch your breath, even when you gripped your shirt and pushed against Kaeya’s arm. Something hit your foot so you stumbled forward only to be reeled back in. “Leaving so soon?” He asked and you panicked. 

“L-let me go - let me go - let! go!” Fear and violence overcame you until you were finally free from his grip. The edges of your vision were so dark that all you could see was the building in front of you, the confused expression on his face as you turned to face him, the bobbing blobs in the distance as you tried to call it for the day. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. All you could feel was a sense of dread and your nails biting into the flesh of your palm. 

Kaeya dropped his weapon. You watched him turn to the crowd but couldn’t hear what he was saying. You just stood there, lost, back in that place you never wanted to visit again. 

A cold hand grabbed your balled up fist and, like magic, you were in Kaeya’s office with no recollection of how you got there. 

Someone called your name. Who was it? 

Touch, the sensation of skin against your cheeks. Hands - someone's hands. Whose hands? WHOSE HANDS!? 

You flailed your arms to push them away but they didn’t leave until you could hear the voice of Kaeya calling your name. 

“... do you hear me?!” he shouted, and you did. You did. “You’re okay! - it’s me. It’s me.” 

“... Kae...?” 

Kaeya’s head dipped forward when you recognized him. “There you are.” His tone was tense. When he looked at you again it was like he had aged since you last saw him. He shook his head and moved his thumbs under your eyes. 

“What happened?” you asked, confused and disoriented. One minute you were out on the training field and another you were in his office. Did you black out?

“I was hoping you could tell me.” 

“I don’t -- I don’t know ...” looking down, you tried to assess what was happening. Your body felt worn, exhausted. Your fingers were curled in and stiff but they weren’t like that originally. Right? Why was there sweat running down your spine? Confusion was soon replaced by worry but Kaeya was there to catch you. “Kaeya - I don’t remember --” 

“It’s alright,” he reassured you by grabbing your hands and holding them steady. You could tell he was contemplating what to do. You’d known Kaeya for so long. He was always so confident, so playful but right now he seemed afraid to even touch you. “It’s alright,” he said again and took a step closer, but not too close. He sighed and then explained what happened. Perhaps he hoped it would make you feel more in control or, perhaps, it would give you the knowledge you needed to understand why you vanished in front of his eyes. 

He was right. As he explained the sparring match and what happened moments before you panicked, you knew exactly why it had happened. 

In training, you are taught how to protect yourself and your fellow knight. You know the dangers of the job but you can never fully grasp the severity of it until you’re there - face to face with life and death. This was your hidden scar. One you didn’t intend to let others see. 

It took a while, but you slowly started to share what had happened. Kaeya listened without questions, without jokes. He just listened, and when you were done he didn’t give you pity or tell you it was in the past. He simply offered his hand and vowed to leave it open for you whenever you needed it. 

“You’ve always been around to lend me a hand. It’s due I return the favor. Whenever you need me, I’ll be here with you to carry on,” he affirmed and though he couldn’t heal the space left in your chest, his words made it a little lighter. 

“Thank you, Kaeya,” you replied, squeezing his hand like he was yours. “I guess this means you’re stuck with me?” It was meant to be a joke to lighten the mood, to bring back his teasing but it seemed to backfire. 

“Well that’s an odd way of proposing to me.” 

“I wasn’t proposing --” 

“You weren’t?”

“No ...” 

“Ah, a shame then,” he lamented and let go of your hand to walk toward the door. You followed him, watching how he leaned against the closed door with a sorrowful expression on his face. 

“W-wait, did you want ... me too?” 

“We will never know now will we?” He threw up his arms into a deflated shrug but made sure to keep a sharp eye on you and your slowly rising embarrassment. “Best not keep them waiting, teacher,” he smirked before walking out of his office and leaving you, once again, flustered. 

--

[aftgficrec]

Hi! Thanks so much for doing this i have wanting to catch you open for so long!! How are you? I hope you have a good day!

I was wondering if there were any fics focused on neil and mary/neil and Nathan? Like his emotions, thoughts, etc, and the things he went through bcs of them/how they still affect him even now? Thank you so much in advance!

Our poor traumatized Neil! Yes, there is much to explore on this topic. -A

most previous asks lead to more recs:

angsty bad days for Neil here

Neil with ptsd here

more Neil with DID here

Neil cries, comforted by Andrew/foxes here

Neil says ‘it’s fine I’ve had worse’ here

Neil’s scars 2 here

scars and healing here

Neil goes to therapy here 

Neil attempts suicide here

‘You're Wonderful’ here

‘Hold My Hand?,’ ‘I'll Still Solve You,’ and ‘Fear (but not of you)’ here

‘The Books of Baltimore’ series: ‘Ghost of You’ here, ‘Run to You’ here

‘the upswing’ (completed), ‘please (don't bite),’ ‘Will you love me for who I am…’ ‘To be safe,’ ‘Safe with him,’ and ‘i called your name ‘til the fever broke’ here 

‘my friends and I…,’ ‘Pasts Intertwined,’ ‘My Stomach is a Wasteland,’ ‘side effects may vary’ ‘Bad Apple,’ and ‘You Are So Much More Than Your Father's Son’ here 

‘Medicated rabbits don't run as fast’ here

‘Broken Symmetries’ and ‘No More Fucks To Give’ (updated) here

‘24 Floors’ here

‘A Quiet Little Seedling,’ ‘If I Knew You,’ and ‘Step By Step’ here

‘slow down (you crazy child),’ ‘Make a Home’ (updated), and ‘make me a promise’ here

‘Dreamed in red’ here

‘...Just Us, and Y(our) Friend Kevin’ here 

‘Nothing Mattered Until You’ here (jeanneil)

amputation or permanent leg damage:

Neil's legs (the fucked up edition) here and here

Neil dies/amputations in Baltimore here

‘La jetée n'est plus loin’ here

‘I’m More Than This Body of Mine’ here (completed)

‘Next to You’ here

‘Rare pair hell series’ part 9 here

‘Live for you / Stay for me’ here 

‘“I pick up daddies at the playground.”’ here

‘lie to me (for i do not wish to live the truth)’ here

‘White Hands’ and ‘If Neil, Then Fox’ here

‘(don’t fear) the reaper’ here

‘Under the kitchen lights…’ here

‘Point Nemo’ here

‘Lifelines’ here

‘does the dog die at the end’ here

you may also like:

Neil runs after joining the foxes 2 here

andreil on the run from the mafia here

soulmates who feel each other's pain here

Mary/Nathan's people come back here

Mary tries to take Neil from the foxes here

Neil kills Nathan here

tell me where i came from, what i will always be by geeseproblems [Rated G, 317 Words, Complete, 2021]

She lives in his body like no other.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: canonical character death

Down with Something by pawnofkings [Rated T, 3051 Words, Complete, 2021]

Neil is sick, and he does his best to keep anyone from finding that out. He collapses in the middle of practice.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse

you asked for this by Anonymous [Rated M, 790 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]

Neil Josten and guilt

tw: implied major character death, tw: child abuse, tw: emotional abuse, tw: blood, tw: negative self talk

A reflection or a lie by ShadowDolphin [Rated G, 839 Words, Complete, 2022]

Sixteen year old Neil Josten has an identity crisis cuz depersonalization is a wonderful thing that exists and he doesn't feel real

tw: implied/referenced child abuse

i know you'll take me with you by lil_macaroon [Rated T, 6129 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2023]

Neil has feelings that make him want to run. The only thing that keeps him at Palmetto State, hell, what keeps him in South Carolina, is the promise he made when Andrew asked him to stay three years ago. Unable to run, it all keeps building within him until one day, Andrew puts him in the car, and they go.

keep your head above the water (I can’t) by drewdrop44 [Rated T, 1156 Words, Complete, 2022]

The feeling of water moving over his head, swallowing him whole. Neil woke with a scream trapped in his mouth.

tw: drowning, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: violence, tw: nightmares 

It's a punch and a kiss, I'm trying to remember by beckdarkthrone [Not Rated, 18604 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2024]

He has a hold on himself as Neil, as Abram, as Nathaniel.. Until he doesn't.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: dissociative disorder, tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: internalized homphobia

NB: this author has a podcast with aftg-centric episodes; check out ‘So You Think You Like’ on spotify.

We're all Monsters Here by serene_chaos [Not Rated, 892 Words, Complete, 2022]

"I am part of the slaughter house. I feel that makes me more of a monster than you.” “Don’t look at me to absolve you.” Andrew flicks his cigarette towards Neil. Sparks landing inches from Neil’s hand. OR Neil doesn't think Andrew is a monster, but thinks he might be.

tw: childhood trauma, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture

Who Am I to You? by serene_chaos [Rated M, 91907 Words, Incomplete, Updated April 2024]

Neil Josten was born with violence in his blood and raised as a weapon to hide in plain sight. And then he finds himself surrounded by foxes and his usual survival tactics ruined by a five foot goalie. The whole mobster mafia problem isn’t helping either. -- Cue a Neil who cares a little less, a past raven, and potentially a little something more to live for.

tw: attempted rape, tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: murder, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: attempted nonconsensual drug use, tw: panic attacks, tw: flashbacks, tw: homophobia, tw: alcohol abuse/alcoholism, tw: animal abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm 

you will always be my favorite form of loving by something_boring [Rated T, 15831 Words, Complete, 2024]

5 times the Foxes tried to take care of Neil and 1 time they didn't have to.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: panic attacks, tw: nightmares, tw: alcohol abuse, tw: blood, tw: vomit, tw: violence, tw: bullying

pain our brain has made by pipedreamaddy [Rated M, 16052 Words, Incomplete, Updated July 2024]

Neil and his discovery that he has trauma-induced migraines because we all know how he neglects his health. Between everything else going on with him, a migraine seemed very minor to him. But now that he is in a healthy, safe, and loving environment where he is thriving, he can take care of himself—theoretically speaking, at least. Or the fic where Neil finally gets the healing that he needs.

tw: needles, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: childhood trauma, tw: implied/referenced torture,  tw: flashbacks, tw: ptsd, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced murder

Keep Your Head Down and Don't Look Back by Capheira [Rated G, 775 Words, Complete, 2024]

Neil has spent most of his life running from his past but perhaps this time he was a little too efficient.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks

Scars Like Stars by Kory_Rory [Rated T, 3429 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2024]

Neil deals with his trauma by biting himself while being completely oblivious to the harm he's putting himself through. But it's okay cause the foxes are there to help him :)

tw: self harm, tw: body dysmorphia, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: negative self talk, tw: flashbacks 

I’m not used to all this water, love (it’s true) by niicowo [Rated T, 1415 Words, Complete, 2024]

Neil never thought anyone could ever love him. His parents never made him feel loved. But then again, what did he know about love? Nothing, he guessed. But one thing he did know was that Andrew loved him. And he just may love him too.

tw: past suicidal ideation, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Razor’s Edge by godless_writer [Rated T, 2178 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil Josten, a caring, shit-talking, striker for the Palmetto State Foxes. Nathaniel Wesninski, a runner, and the son of The Butcher of Baltimore. When Neil thinks that Andrew is in danger after he walks into Kevin and Andrew fighting, his world turns red and those lines become blurred.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: dissociation

Don't let me be by Cutie_Wan [Not Rated, 1983 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil suffers a major dissociation episode in front of the Foxes.

tw: dissociation, tw: self harm, tw: violence

grin and bear it by wlwmlmsolidarity [Rated G, 1221 Words, Complete, 2024]

neil has chronic pain due to lola and tries to just ignore it and push through on a bad pain day, andrew forcefully makes him relax and accept help

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: chronic pain

NB: includes fanart by @clementinecloudz

scream and yell but i feel speechless by DepressedTerrestrial [Not Rated, 6770 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil had some unnecessary surgery done when he was younger. No one (including Neil) knows how to handle this except for Andrew (kind of).

tw: past medical abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture

Isn't he the monster by DarkD [Not Rated, 16033 Words, Complete, 2021]

On a day when Neil "wakes up" in a particularly bad mood, hearing anyone being cruel to Andrew becomes unbearable to the point that he is on the verge of an explosion.

tw: violence, tw: blood, tw: self harm, tw: dissociation, tw: panic attacks, tw: child abuse

Art

Day 19: bullet and Day 4: stitches art by @thefluffiestbird

Nathan was known for his extravagant parties and incredible entertainment art by @mac-monsters; twitter

Neil & Mary on the run edit by @romanovass

These ouches feel a little rough for a child on the run. comic by @softerstorms

“Don’t you dare be more afraid of me than you are of Andrew” art by @rainbowd00dles 

There’s nowhere to run art by @/tryashaa on instagram

“I’m fine” - *literally dying* art by @/koldangrey_art on instagram

[instarsandcrime]

PTSD/C-PTSD PSA

TW: Trauma, Flashbacks

Hi hello, it's Stars!

I wanted to give a quick PSA because I've seen a lot of this in whump and I wanted to give a little mention to scenes that involve flashbacks-- especially ones that cause the whumpee to see their trauma played out in front of them as if it's a real thing that is currently happening. All this to say, you can totally take creative liberties and do some cool wish fulfillment stuff! But I've never seen anyone do like. An actually accurate and safer portrayal of what to do for the other person, and I thought this would be my rendition of 'it's cool in fanfic but please do not do this in real life.' ☺️

So! Please, please, please god do not approach the person currently having a flashback and hug them. Don't touch them, don't grab them, don't yell at them to snap them out of it. Whether the person is hallucinating or aware but just having an emotional overload, it's important that you:

First check verbally to see if they are fully aware. What do they need? How can you help? If the answers are unclear or the the person is not fully aware then

Give them space and do not touch them. At best they will panic, at worst they will either think you are a part of the pain or a foreign part of the memory that shouldn't belong.

If they are heading towards somewhere dangerous, do not panic. If you can, go with the flashback and lead them verbally somewhere safe. I'm not a huge fan of mentioning soldiers, I am very aware of the stereotype, but it's the only one I can think of at the top of my head atm as a real life example that's been done before: A soldier rushing into battle. The other might act as their commanding officer and tell them to stand down and wait for their next order.

Even after the flashback they might still be in survival mode. Give them a second to calm down. Give yourself a second to calm down.

Of course no two people are alike, so although these steps are generally important and necessary please communicate with the person if you're worried that you're doing something wrong and they need something different.⭐ And don't be afraid to ask questions or do some good ol' googling if you need the help!

[psychocitysblog]

I hate it when someone says ‘what you’re feeling is all in your head’ yeah, if you went through some of the shit that I went through, you wouldn’t be saying that.

[miss-morgans-lover]

James, who has flashbacks/nightmares about the cave collapse, and struggles in small spaces

Tyler, who has nightmares about his dad leaving

Shelby, who has nightmares about disappointing her parents

Koda, who has nightmares about his 'death'

Ivan, who has nightmares about being trapped and struggles struggles in small spaces

Kendall, who has flashbacks/nightmares about her childhood and struggles with academic validation (HC)

Phillip, who doesn't want to disappoint his parents

Chase, who has nightmares about actually hurting his friends when he was mind controlled

Riley, who has nightmares about not being able to win against Fury again

[vetiverreverie]

I had a really bad episode last year and made these omori inspired art pieces based on the flashbacks I was having.

[arlecchinasmainblog]

More Epic Angst

It’s the middle of the night and shouting can be heard from the king’s chambers.

“Get your wretched hands off of me! I am done enacting your vile fantasies!”

It’s happening again.

“Odysseus, my king, my love, it is I, Penelope.”

But he couldn’t recognize that. Not now anyway.

“You are not! You are not! Cease veiling yourself as my wife you evil witch!”

Despite his wife’s gentle words, he couldn’t see her as he rocked in the fetal position; squinting his eyes shut as if he were a child hiding from an imaginary monster.

“Why must you take joy in tormenting me! I just want to go home! I just want to be home!”

The poor man cried in vain. And all his wife could do was weep. For she could not help her husband escape the prison of his confabulated captor. She could not free him from the prison of his own mind.

[lucienmemento]

Trauma is so fucked up. Like cool, imma just feel like a small child who needs to hide for no reason at all.

Can I cancel my subscription?

[syscultureis]

TW: delusions, ptsd episode plus maybe more?

System culture is feeling like someone who hurt you is always behind you and when you have a ptsd episode you start seeing them and try to ground yourself back to realty but you just can’t because it will worsen the episode and I already am hallucinating the feeling of the Iv and needles I can’t do this,,, why am I a trauma holder, who forced this to happen to us?! -⦻

.

[whumpetywhump]

Mansuang (2023)