#trigger: ptsd

[cynical-mystic]

ZKMonth22 Day 26: Scars

The screams tore at Katara’s throat as they wrenched her out of sleep. Her hands were clutching the blankets she was tangled up in, and before she could get her bearings the door adjoining her and Zuko’s room opened.

“Katara!”

She was in Zuko’s arms once he crossed the room, and she buried her face in his chest.

“Shh,” he said, running his hand over her hair and patting her back.

It was then she realized she was sobbing, huge stomach sobs that made her shoulders ache. Instead of fighting it, she let it run its course, snuggling into Zuko and making him hold her even tighter.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her tears subsided and she collapsed in Zuko’s arms. He pulled her into his lap and continued to hold her, rubbing her back and whispering comfort until she wrapped her arms around him in return.

“Nightmares?” he asked, letting his arms settle around her waist.

She nodded into his neck.

“Azula?”

She nodded again.

“Me?”

She let out a dry sob as she nodded again.

“I’m right here, Katara,” he soothed. “Azula lost. You saved me. Everything is alright.”

She nodded again, burying her face in his shoulder.

He pulled her closer and returned to rubbing her back. They sat in a companionable silence for a while before Zuko spoke again.

“I have them too.”

She pulled back and looked at his face. His golden eyes met hers and she saw the pain she felt in them.

“Sometimes I don’t get in front of you in time,” he whispered. “Sometimes I have to watch from the ground as Azula beats you. Sometimes…”

His voice trailed off.

“I’m here,” she whispered, putting her hand on his scarred cheek. “Azula lost. You saved me. We’re both alright.”

He let out a puff of air, amused at her turning her words back on him.

“I know,” he said, reaching up to put a hand on the one she had on his face. “I’m so glad.”

Katara put her forehead on his and closed her eyes, soaking in his presence.

“Stay with me,” she whispered.

“Always and forever,” he whispered back.

It didn’t take much for Katara to meet his lips with hers. They kissed deeply and slowly before releasing each other. Katara moved off of Zuko’s lap and wriggled back under the covers. He joined her, pulling them over himself and laying as close to her as he could get. She rolled away from him and he pulled her to his chest, resting his arm over her waist and sliding the other beneath her head. She snuggled into him and he sighed.

Together, they slept, the scars of their past held at bay for one more night.

[heroic-imagining]

‘I wonder what these teeth can do—’

a drabble on bakugou katsuki’s trauma

— he didn’t often dream. not in ways that he remembered, anyway. he only remembered how it felt to wake up, drenched in his own sweat, his heart half falling out of his mouth, his hands not quite his own when he looked down at them clinging to his duvet. there’d be snippets, of course. the whites of eyes, the sounds of voices, camera flashes against the concrete. harsh mementos of a past he’d ran from but never escaped. when he shut his eyes he felt their skin on his and suddenly he was drowning all over again. since he’d turned 15, his trauma had been public, but his suffering had been private. people saw his rage and they took away the simple parts, cut away his hurt with a knife and a laugh - silly boy, so quick to anger. who cared what else there was to see, right? it would only damage their ratings to show what was ugly. convenience was prettier than this scene. this teenager, misted in his own sweat, salt searing his eyes, unable to think in the heaviness of silence, was an unnecessary byproduct of the hero society they thrived in. it was quiet when he awoke with a jolt, air catching in his throat. quiet like 4am and the world was all asleep but him. and he was so alone. katsuki couldn’t tell anyone what this felt like, how he’d run to the bathroom and vomit, how he’d sob until his throat was raw, how he hurt himself, hit himself, slam his head against the walls. his suffering was a private affair. maybe that was why no one understood why he wouldn’t smile for the camera? but that would be easy, wouldn’t it? to pretend, to put on a show: he saw others do it, felt repulsed by their pathetic display of strength. because liars weren’t strong, they were simply hiding. but he wasn’t strong either, not like this, clutching the sides of his ceramic sink like it was the only thing rooting him into the ground. the cold was a wash of sanity; his tears were hot reminders of shame. his pride was the only thing that kept him going - it was cruel really, and it chewed upon his bones. made him feel ancient. it throbbed in his brain like an illness, burnt like a fire in the night. he’d been angry for as long as he’d been proud and he’d been sad for as long as he could remember. that feeling of disconnect - different, from the very start. that extra bit taller, that extra bit smarter, that infamous quirk of his: he’d become mythologised, idolised, before he’d even been a person. no one loved a statue, a monument, not like they loved their friends and family. so no one had loved him. his mother had noticed, but gentle words weren’t her speciality. she dealt with him using the only love she knew. she’d hit him to make him quiet down. maybe that’s why he was proud - he’d be proud of himself first, alone, not needing anyone else. but he wanted his mum. really he did - after all, her love language was all he’d known and he craved it like the earth craves the wash of the moon or something equally romantic but not so pretty. because right now, in the dorms, with the ghosts of his nightmare clinging to his mind, he wanted to be held. wanted someone to touch him and murmur pointless kindness into his ears until he fell asleep again. not that they would: he had a way of driving tenderness away. something about his volatility made him hard to love. as if god had created something delicate and then thought ‘i wonder what these teeth can do.’

[i-am-the-awakening]

It had been a long day with trying to deal with the last of the First Order. Ben wasn’t all that sure what Rey was looking over on the data pad at the moment but he just went right over to lay down next to her on the bed and rested his head in her lap.

Images of blurry words and text flickered by on the data pad, but Rey did not pay them any close attention. Occasionally she would catch a word or a name that drew her attention in the documents Finn and Poe had sent her - but mostly it was just a distraction. A chance for her mind to simply shut down and close off to any...lingering memories. If she wasn’t careful, her traitorous brain would take her right back to that horrid, dark place. Face to face with that galactic demon, the roar of the hundreds of hooded figures ringing in her ear, the heat of the bursts of lightning that ripped through the sky and...

Rey’s fingers gripped the edge of the tablet so tightly that the screen began to flicker, but she did not notice it. Nothing seemed to stir her from her memories until she felt Ben move gently in beside her, the soft touch of his dark curls against her lap. A soft intake of breath brushed through her parted lips and she let the datapad drop to her side. It seemed that Ben was the only one who could pull her back from the dark depths of those memories made on Exegol. Leaning over him slightly, her fingers brushed in through his hair as she listened to his breathing. He was more precious to her now than anything she had ever known, and whenever he was near her she felt...better.

“Sorry I have been ignoring you,” she breathed lightly.

[hp-unhappily-ever-after]

Title: Broken Glass

Author: @xravenslight

Characters/Pairings: Pansy Parkinson / Harry Potter

Rating: Mature

Prompt: HET17 - Damaged people are dangerous; they know how to make hell feel like home. 

Tags/Warnings: Abusive Relationships, Gaslighting, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Saviour Complex, Physical Abuse, domestic abuse, No noncon, Angst, Grief/Mourning

Summary: Harry Potter survived the war, but he didn’t make it out unscathed. When Pansy runs into him in Muggle London, the pieces of him that remain call to her own broken parts, and she falls into his tumultuous world, clinging to the desperate belief that she can be the one to save the one who couldn’t save himself. But damaged people are dangerous; they know how to make hell feel like home.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21193892

Excerpt: Pansy could remember the first time she’d seem him after the war. Drunk and stumbling all over the pub she’d slipped into to avoid another former classmate, Potter ran into her like a bull in a China shop.

[cynical-mystic]

ZKMonth22 Day 25: Modern AU

For days, Katara avoided Zuko as much as someone could avoid a person they lived with. He never said anything or tried to force interaction, so she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d known what Toph was going to do or asked her to. Eventually she realized this was ridiculous, as Zuko had always been a bit withdrawn, and he probably figured that after her abortion she didn’t really want any company for a while, especially male.

It was Sokka who got her to talk to him, about a week after Toph’s revelation.

“Katara, Zuko has always been obviously in love with you,” he said as they had pizza at the mall. “All of us have known since, like, the beginning of time.”

She rolled her eyes and toyed with her straw wrapper.

“I didn’t ask you to come shopping with me because I wanted someone else to try to convince me that Zuko’s in love with me.”

“No, but somewhere deep inside you knew that would be on the agenda, so shut it.”

“I will not!” Katara burst, sitting up straight in her seat. “What do you want me to do with this information after I just got out of a horribly abusive relationship?”

“Katara–” “No! Zuko was one of a handful of people I felt completely comfortable with but now I can’t even look at him without wondering if he’s thinking about getting me in bed.”

“Would he do that?” Sokka asked softly.

“No,” she admitted begrudgingly. “But it doesn’t matter! I can no longer separate the concept of ‘man’ from the concept of ‘my best friend Zuko’ and until I can do that I don’t think I can live with him anymore!”

Sokka’s eyes widened.

“Katara–”

She got up, abandoning her food, and left Sokka staring after her.

That evening, while Zuko was at work, she packed the few things she had in his spare room and left, leaving him a note that she was going to stay with her parents until she got back on her feet. Then she turned her phone off and got on a bus.

Her mother welcomed her with open arms, of course. Her father was away for work and she was grateful for the presence of her daughter, which was obvious in how closely she stuck by Katara’s side as she settled into her old room, and how she made all of Katara’s favorite foods for dinner.

In the back of her mind Katara half-expected Zuko to show up right after he got off work, but she knew he wouldn’t do that. For the first time, though, she had no idea how Zuko would react to this. She’d never left without notice before. Not him. Never him.

The next morning, when her mom went to work, Katara called off, feeling sorry for herself and unwilling to deal with the outside world. This is why, when someone knocked at almost lunch time, she was home to answer the door.

When she saw it was Zuko she almost slammed the door in his face, but when her mind registered his expression she didn’t, choosing simply to stand in the doorway, not letting him in but not sending him away either.

“Toph told me what she said to you,” he said, his voice raw. “I’m so, so sorry Katara. I didn’t want her to tell you. I would have never asked her to.”

She nodded.

“Why did you leave?” he asked. “Did I do something–?”

Katara shook her head and did her best to explain how uncomfortable she was knowing that he liked her after she’d just gotten out of a relationship with an abusive liar. She was suddenly unable to trust anything he did, as she’d lived with Jet and so many things were triggering to her.

“I’m so sorry, Katara,” he said again when she finished her explanation. “I completely understand.”

He turned to go, but something made Katara stop him.

“Wait!”

Zuko stopped and turned to face her, keeping his expression as neutral as he could.

“I know… I know I have no right to ask this… But… would you…”

It felt like all of time stopped around them.

“Would you… wait for me?”

The air left Zuko in a rush and his face broke out in an expression of pure relief.

“Always, Katara,” he said softly before turning and walking away.

She watched him go and tucked those words into the spot in her heart reserved for Zuko.

Someday, she would be ready for him. But both of them knew it was not today.

[blueandgoldoffice]

Sorry for asking again, I’ve lost another one where Betty was part of the farm and she escaped. Her and Archie used to be friends before she left. Archie and Veronica take her in and then she meets jughead. It’s set in the city and I think she’s a young adult. Ty!

No worries! Pretty sure you’re looking for 

Follow the Light by @traeflower12

M 7/?

Summary:  Betty thought escaping would be the hard part. No one told her the hard part would be surviving everything that comes after.

~MM

(PS, be sure to read the author’s tags and warnings)

[blueandgoldoffice]

Hi there I was wondering if you could find me a fic where Betty is a cafe owner and jellybean works for her and Jason and Polly meet again in Riverdale and the twins are there as well and jellybean invites Betty too a party in the trailer and her and Jughead just stay in her room all night

With those few extra clues you managed to share, yes I can :)

are you getting away (with who you’re trying to be?) by @butiwaswildonce

E  5/5

Summary: Betty has recently moved to Riverdale with her sister, fulfilling her dream of opening her own bakery. Small-town life was never part of her plan, but after a family tragedy and the breakdown of her marriage, she figures life plans aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway.

Jughead sometimes feels like he’s holding the whole world above his head, waiting for it to all come crashing down. He’s trying to balance his obligations to his motorcycle club and father, to do right by his sister and keep her safe, and stay out of prison for good. The new girl in town feels like a bit of quiet among the chaos, but the last thing either of them expected was each other.

[blueandgoldoffice]

ok i got a lost fic for you guys, so betty’s an author about her valedictorian life behind closed doors, but her fans found out where she lives and she is forced to hire jughead as a bodyguard and malachi who is her ex attacks her and harassed her all the time, and then she accidentally punched jughead in the face when they were sleeping. also hot dog is her service dog

No problem!

i’m not safe here (and you know it) by @riverdalenerdlol

M  10/10

Summary:  11:35 PM

The blonde spun around once more to check behind her, and she thought she saw a movement. She pulled one earbud out and started walking faster. She berated herself in her mind.

Veronica offered to walk home with you, but you declined, you dumbass.

The anxiety was beginning to take over. Betty shoved her hands in the pockets of her pale grey wool jacket. After everything that had happened to her, the last thing she wanted was to get mugged on the streets of New York. Naturally, today had been the day that she left her pepper spray at home, and she was now angry at herself for that too.

And suddenly, she could hear the footsteps behind her. Her mind blanked.

(MMs note - this is an ‘angst with a happy ending’ story, so please read the author’s tags)