tumblr request: "haha this is quite embarrassing to ask tbh, i'm cringing at my own words. but i was wondering if you could write modern au erwin x fem!reader wherein erwin comforts the reader after learning she had been sa'd? i got r*ped by the school nurse yesterday and i'm just afraid to actually do anything about it or ask for help shdjsj and erwin is just so special to me and i just want to feel loved. does that make any sense...

if this makes you uncomfy you don't have to write! i know that the topic is very distressing and i would hate to press it upon anyone else and i'm sorry for the brief trauma dump lol shchhvhhdjj this could have been worded better i'm sorry TT"

Perhaps your mind did you a huge favor by having the composure to reach the house even after that, although with repeated utterances that you want this day to be over, to be obliterated, to be torn and shredded to pieces and cease existence. What awaits at home, however, is someone who would never let a day pass until he figures out the reason behind your sullenness, that is if he ever caught you so. That's why you tried your very best to avoid his glance. Well, your attempt might be commendable, but after you took a bath, Erwin just came back from the store with a bag of your favorite food. If you weren't feeling so sick, you might've laughed your heart out. Your heart swelled at the sight, don't get yourself wrong, but the bitter taste was more palpable. A stern voice inside your head spoke—that you don't deserve the treat that he bought, that you don't deserve him, not even his pure-hearted act when you're filled with nothing but dirt, and that—

"You don't have a fever," his voice halted the rampage; his hand's on your forehead, too. "what are you—"

You swatted him away and stepped back, just as if your skin came across a hot iron. You would trip down the floor if not for the hand you used to support yourself onto the wall.

Oh god, and when you swore you'd make this very quick. Now he looks too taken aback to let it pass. And oh, his taken-aback face didn't help, too.

By the time you fully registered the situation, his surprised face was long gone. It was more than enough to confirm what he was to ask for, after all. Erwin dropped the bag on the table and then walked back to you. He didn't dare touch you this time, and that was your last straw in faltering.

"S-sorry. I didn't mean that."

"That was the least of my concern," he lightly replied. "Have I done something that upset you?"

"No! You would never! It's just that I—" a lump in your throat stopped you, "I just—uh–I had quite a rough day, I guess."

"Expound."

"It was a fight."

"What type of fight?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

He was silenced. When you shot him a look, however, beneath the unperturbed tranquility was a statement; if he were the one to find out what happened without your words, then things will not end well for the perpetrator.

"I understand," but giving in didn't take long for him as soon as he noticed how disheveled your clothes actually are. He noticed more, and more, and more—and it said a lot with how his eyes widened again. "Was it really a fight?"

You covered your face with both hands and muffled sobs came out. His utterly worried tone was what it took for you to break down.

"If you can't talk then let me see."

It shattered you further that despite the lack of patience, he asked for your approval to hold you. It means you're safe right now. You wanted him to hold you, too—you really do—but your comfort routine of imagining him tucking you in his embrace is quite distorted at the moment. The image just gets replaced with something very unlikeable, your self-perception is filled with filth, your mind rebuking, and you wish for nothing but to alter it. You wish there would be a spell to alter the intrusivity so you could hold him again.

"Let me see it," he requested again as he called your name, all but gentle—just as he is, all just for you.

"I'm quite soiled right now."

He hummed in acknowledgment and took a careful step nearer, "Who made you feel like that?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Can I see for myself, then?"

There you realized, his voice is the very spell to alter it. His gentleness could wash the reeking instrusivity away; slowly but surely, just like his little steps right now towards you. When you're centimeters away, he asked again, "Can I?"

You nodded.

His broad palm cupped your cheek first. You instinctively leaned on it. "There you go," Erwin smiled, glad to have your permission. His spare hand maneuvered around your body to examine bit by bit. When the daunting realization came, he heaved a sigh.

"Sorry, I—"

He bumped his forehead into you, his face stern. "Don't you say it's your fault."

"There's a part of me to blame for what happened."

"You're the only person in this world who would think that."

You chuckled, sardonically so. "You have no idea."

"Oh, I very much have." he held onto your waist and pulled you towards him; his lips glided sweetly to your ear, "No one shall ever say that to you and get out of it alive." There, as gently as ever, he laid a small kiss on the lobe.

The chaste peck finally lowered your guard. It was by then you remembered that Erwin encapsulates warmth. He could help wash the intrusivity away—no, his unwavering affection would wash it away. You don't have to worry about anything else, not at this moment because you are safe, cradled by the person devoted to you, so willing to shower you with reverence.

"No one shall ever say that to you and get out of it alive," he repeated, "and even by then it would still be not your fault."

And surely by time, that same love from him and the people dear to you will build up the needed resolve in seeking further help. You cried more then. You let him engulf you in his embrace and cry more. After all, his touch is a casting spell. It's louder than the one inside your head, neither accusatory nor violent.

Erwin called your name, "Do you believe me?"

"I do."

There you go, Erwin mused a bit proudly again in his head. After all, the first thing you must be aware of is that the events that will transpire after this night can never be your fault. The intricacies of his next step—the downfall of the one who violated you, all by his mercy—will never have you to blame.

let's talk at tumblr (my UN is drearrie) and drop a request if you want to.