#tw; PTSD

[shiroi---kumo]

It's only a dream || Accepting

( @aquaticsoul ) ->

 ‘ night terrors ‘

because he doesn't want pilvi to have to deal with things alone anymore

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ It was only a dream. It had to be because Opettaja is right here and he is alive and the white prince is setting in a bed that is not his own but it smells like all his loved ones. They are all here. Somewhere in this building, they're here and he can hear them and ...and ... and...

He doesn't know what else.

The feeling of one of His Excellency's blood red tendrils is slipping around his throat as he tries to think about it. He doesn't know if that's real either. He's dreamt of his teachers, his binds, so many times but he's never really woke to them when he sets up screaming.

That probably was hell on Opettaja's ears and he should probably apologize for that but the building doesn't smell like Gaudium even if it looks like it. Oscha could be playing another trick on him. He doesn't remember Herba coming to collect him once more. He doesn't remember breathing in anything weird or drinking anything strange but then again that was the point and even when he did, he doesn't remember.

He doesn't remember anything ... He doesn't remember... How did he end up in a room with Opettaja in the first place? All he knows is - he is in the middle of a very well built nest that is filled to the very brim of the scents of everyone he loves and that is something he can say he likes. He very much likes and Opettaja is right next to him and he can hear and smell him so clearly too.

His Excellency would never allow this. So why is he here? He saw Herba kill the man but then he - no - didn't he? The tendril is tightening around his throat as he takes the time to think. How dare he take the time to think?! He knows better. He knows and his hands are up and tugging at the blanket that is loosely wrapped down over his shoulders as the panic sets in.

Why is he fighting back? He knows better than to fight back but Opettaja is here and he doesn't want him to have to see this. He doesn't want Opettaja to have to watch him die and see the truth in his immortality.

When did he tell Opettaja he was immortal?

He must have. He doesn't remember doing it but he must have.

"I'm sorry." He sobs as hands firm on the blankets close to his throat. "I'm sorry, Your Excellency."

He doesn't even remember what he did to make the little beast so angry this time, but it was obviously something and if he didn't act soon then he was going to die and Opettaja was going to be forced to watch. Worse, Opettaja was going to be forced to deal with his corpse when he doesn't fade.

He is the only Misterican in all of history that has ever left a corpse and he can't say he cares for it. He can't say he cares for that fact at all.

"Please spare me, Your Excellency. Please."

He hates the fact his sobbing isn't fake. He hates the fact that every tear is as real as the last he does the only thing he knows how to do in this situation and that's to cry and beg forgiveness.

"Please Your Excellency." He tries again as he struggles a bit to get every crawling tendril on him off of himself but it all feels as hopeless as it ever does.

"Please, Your Excellency. Please don't make him watch this."

#meme || it's only a dream #ask || inquires of the cloud #aquaticsoul #the conductor of my symphony || aquaticsoul #tw; long post #tw; strangling #tw; night terrors #tw; nightmares #tw; panic #tw; hallucination #tw; ptsd #tw; panic attack #tw; begging #tw; abuse #tw; death

[ssolessurvivor]

While he absolutely loves the holidays and the snow, sometimes it can just get to be too much. All the family over at the cabin a lot, the quiet of the snow, the cold seeping in through the windows. One would say a trigger can't be something so calm and tranquil.

But that's exactly what the trigger is. It's too quiet. Always too quiet. All he can hear in his head is their screams as he made it too late to hold them, the cold of the station plummeting even colder with the windows having been shattered: the ice crystals on the windows in the morning remind him of that.

Logan isn't one to verbally lash out at anyone, but he's close. Grinding his teeth, that muscle in his jaw popping out and burning with the exertion of the repetitive motion. Hands snake through his hair and tug idly, trying to feel the pain to ground himself, to bring him back out of his head, out from under the claws of his demons threatening to rip him apart all over again. And again, and again.

#open #the rarity of an open and it'll probably get deleted later #oh well : mutuals only please <3 #tw; ptsd #tw; trauma

[terrence-silver]

Terry comes home one evening from a day working at dynatox and teaching karate at the dojo. He wasn't able to find his black cobra kai hoodie though. He sees beloved in his home office ,in his chair, wearing the missing hoodie ." Oh I love this scent of his," he hears beloved say . Terry's reaction to this in different eras, let's say he visited John at the dojo as twig and came home from "teaching" Daniel in the 80s, as well as old man Terry's usual day.

Oh, oh, I do have thoughts about that hoodie specifically!

---

Maybe after John talked down to him and effectively triggered his trauma with recollections of landmines and soldiers who don't follow his lead stepping on them, Terry associates that damn hoodie with some pretty bad feelings, which is understandable. He looks at it and he envisions the boys in their squad having their legs blow off in front of him. He sees it as a weakness and he feels foolish. Like an old idiot, wearing merch. A clown. He's a clown, clown, clown. He wants to ram his fist into the wall. He wants to burn it, bury it, rip it apart. Never dress like a mascot ever again. But, he can't bring himself to do it immediately and he loathes himself for it, for having this limitation in the first place, because he associates Cobra Kai and all things pertaining to it, yes, even a silly, nonsense black hoodie with a logo print on it, to decades of friendship, to John, to all the good moments, and so he'd rather just...have the damn thing disappear right about now, with this new context involved. Feels sullied somehow. Maybe he should...literally just pay someone to discard of it for him like it is mere roadkill in front of his mansion's gates? No...he should get rid of himself. It is his roadkill. His gates.

Regardless, with him leaving it out on some chair, beloved slides into it.

He finds them huddled into it comfortably, saying how they enjoy the scent --- his scent --- having worn a piece of clothes he has such conflicting feelings about and which he'd rather have evaporating out of existence alongside his own vulnerabilities. Should he tell beloved what happened? Oddly enough, he yearns to, but he also doesn't want beloved disliking his Captain, when not even he himself dislikes him, feeling only just betrayed. Yet, now he's envisioning beloved's limbs torn off by a frag grenade but he pushes it down, reminding himself of discipline. He might just blow off his own tensions by peeling the hoodie off of beloved and having them on the spot. The damn rag on the floor, forgotten, when he takes it off it off them. Once he's comfortably spent and beloved's knocked out and dozing off he just...finds himself looking at the hoodie like it is contagious, picks it up, tosses into the dojo's newly installed recycling machine that just scraps down the fabric to smithereens. Gone. Over. It is done. He watches the whole process with morbid fascination, unable to blink. He could've thrown a baby fawn in there and it would hurt less. When beloved wakes, they look for the thing, but they never find it.

Terry Silver pretends to be none the wiser.

He convinces them that THEY misplaced it and they believe him, but truth is ---

He doesn't want that crap on their skin because he keeps imagining them dying.

It being his doing.

#terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #john kreese #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #tw; ptsd #tw; wartime trauma #old man terry

[avilionea]

@cannotfly (JOHANNA)

Laurie had been on edge all day. His usual outgoing and rather jovial self was replaced with irritability and a rather cross exposition.

He had been looking over his shoulder for most of the day, his calm replaced with an uncharacteristic anxiety.

it was when one of the maids dropped her serving tray that he finally snapped. The loud clatter of the silver tray against the hardwood only enhanced the china shattering as it too slipped off the tray and onto the floor.

His behavior, had he been in control of himself, would not have been as explosive. He had been convinced there was gunfire. He was certain he was fighting again and not in his home.

Now, he'd hole himself up under one of the old beds in an even older guestroom. Laurie laid flat on his back trying his best to catch his breath. he couldn't breathe and his heart felt like it might pound up his throat. If it beat any harder it surely would jump from his mouth.

Under the bed it was dark. Under the bed it was quiet. It felt safe there. He was trying to be safe. Mr. Brooke sat on a chair out in the hall, just to be safe while the doctor was sent for, but it would take time for him to get there.

#cannotfly #c; laurie #V:? #tw; ptsd #tw; flashbacks #tw; civil war mention #just in case

[kyuusou]

Izumi suffers from PTSD, and very often she has nightmares of Itachi closing in with his Mangekyou Sharingan. He looks exactly like this in her nightmares. Even though he didn’t look at her like that when he actually put her under his Tsukuyomi. Her fear for his eyes created a version of Itachi in her head that haunts her.

#tw; ptsd #izumihc

[smolcuriouskitten]

Trying something new...

It was 1977 and Rockelle was alone as always in her home. She can't remember the last time she went outside, as she was still fearful from the events with Ramondas and her husband, no ex husbands death. Trying to occupy her mind and pass the time, she spent the bulk of her time studying magic.

God that word alone left a sour taste in her mouth. Even with him dead and most of those scars healing, she could feel the after effects from what he did and god damn her skin would crawl. Simple tasks such as bathing or cooking would always bring back unsavory memories. She could almost hear his disapproval with everything she did. Eggs not cooked well, too many wrinkles in the shirt, and there was a speck of dust on the ceiling fan.

Trying to break that cycle of remembering the terrible things, she focused on perfecting her craft. She will be damned if something like that happened again. She had remembered her sister brought over a new vinyl for her to listen too. Maybe music would help to silence those unsavory memories temporarily.

She looked down at the vinyl for more information. It was brightly colored, which caught her eye, and the title had the name of the band. MAZE. She knew her sister wouldn't steer her wrong, so she delicately put the vinyl on the record player and adjusted the needle. Listening to the first song, she closes her eyes and focuses on the beat and vocals.

Very pleasant to listen too. It helped to silence her mind for a moment which was all she needed to perfect this spell. A simple object moving spell. Closing her eyes and focusing her attention to make the purple glowing ball appear in her hand, her attention was brought to the next song. The beat was intoxicating and it made her hips sway along with the beat. Opening her eyes, she was amazed to see the little ball still present in her hands.

It took her weeks to focus on this alone so she wasnt gonna lose it. Her hips swaying and her feet moving to the beat, she pushes the ball to a book across the room, which the aura captures in its hold. Oh god its happening. Dont lose focus, just move it from the shelf and put it down. She found herself singing along, the book seeming to dance around the room to her, then it was placed on the table in front of her.

Happy feelings, exactly what she was feeling. She began to hop around the room and dance, happy that she was finally able to do the spell. She kept moving onto other objects, until she moved most of the objects from the bookshelf to her table. All the while, she sang along with the song, feeling empowered and guided by the joyous sound filling her ears. She could hear her mother cheering her on with this little accomplishment.

Its always the little things that make her happy.

#i think too much; {dabbles} #{Im starting a new series where I make little blurbs around Rockelle and her evolution as a person!} #{this one is a test to see the results on how it does! this can be a series of you guys want!} #tw; ptsd #tw; abuse mention #tw; death mention #Spotify

[lostmf]

#sadnees #tw depressing thoughts #depressing shit #i'm sad #depressing life #tw depressing stuff #quotes #childhood trauma #poetic #childhood #childhood ptsd #childhood truama #child abuse #tw selfhate #self h@rm #truamacore #kill my thoughts #kill my feelings #complex ptsd #how could you #just cptsd things #scribbles #are you proud of me #daddy issues #this is a cry for help #family #abandoned #ptsd #i hate my existence #wound tw

[rainywhispersblog]

#actually borderline #bpd feels #bpd mood #bpd problems #bpd thoughts #bpd vent #actually bpd #borderline personality disorder #depressing shit #living with ptsd #tw bpd vent #tw self destructive behavior #tw depressing thoughts #tw depressing stuff #tw depression #actually ptsd #childhood trauma #trauma #borderline things #borderline thoughts #sad thoughts

[righteousmandownunder-a]

“Your heart is pounding.”

Angst starters tw; ptsd

Looking down at his hands and seeing them shake, Dean balled his hands up tight until he was white knuckled, his dull nails digging into the palms of his hands. The man took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart down. It was just a nightmare. That was all. Just a nightmare about his time in Hell and the screams of the souls that were being tormented still echoed as clear as day in his head.

"I'm fine." he breathed out after a long moment of silence between the two of them.

#☠ₙₒ Cₕᵢ𝒸ₖ Fₗᵢ𝒸ₖ ₘₒₘₑₙₜₛ ┊┊.「Dₑₐₙ ᵣₒₛₛ Wᵢₙ𝒸ₕₑₛₜₑᵣ」 #cheaburi #tw; ptsd

[gh0stgirl-hotline]

Born to love cursed to be unlovable

#tw bpd vent #tw bpd #bpd #actually bpd #bpd thoughts #tw ptsd #tw trauma #ptsd #love #heartbreak #actually cptsd #actually borderline #boarderline personality disorder

[shiroi---kumo]

Royal Knights of His Majesty || Accepting

Send    ‘ you’ll have to get through me first… ‘    for my muse’s reaction to yours stepping in and defending them from someone they’re scared of

@flameleads is growling:

"You’ll have to get through me first." [ because Roy said so ]

There had been a small bit of a squabble when the Amestrian Colonel came to learn what he had been doing all this time. It wasn't that the Misterican had been keeping the nature of his activities from the man out of ill will but more because he did not want to cause the man anymore turmoil that he had already been feeling and he also did not want to bring anyone else with him because of his airborne nature.

It was just simpler to search from the skies when he did not have to worry about what was happening on the ground, at the same time. Black Wind would have been the only suitable searching companion, but this wasn't adding to their on going search for Chaos so - so that wouldn't have been a productive conversation either. 

So now he finds himself walking through the first town they've seen for at least a day. Cid had been gracious enough to give him more time on that blasted timer since this time he was out with company but there had been a long talk between the Misterican and the Mechanic about staying aware of his surroundings, keeping his head down, if he feels unsafe for any reason they are to return immediately without hesitation. 

There had been a groan and a sigh from the prince in question to ultimately he had agreed to the commands. Eversti was adverse to flight, so that meant they were stuck on foot with only the supplies the swordsman's travel bag could carry. He didn't know how long they would be out this time but he can't imagine that Eversti would want to return before he found some kind of information on his children. 

This village was much like others he's visited in this patchwork world. Nondescript buildings surrounded by nondescript people. A girl of blue hair, and young but still an adult looking in age made eye contact with him when they entered so he only looked to offer her a smile even with hidden lips. 

Her head was snapping away as quickly as it could until his voice chimes.

"Excuse me, Miss? Can you help me for a moment?"

And pink eyes only widen as her face pales and the woman finds herself practically frozen in place. 

"L-L-Lord M-M-Makenshi." Her voice shakes in the same way a leaf would when the wind rustles through the trees. "What an honor it is for you to grace us with a visit today." 

His face grimaces when she speaks as his shoulders raise in his tension only to fall again in defeat seconds later. His hands raise up, flat as if to stop her trembling without touching her.

"This is entirely unnecessary.  I just need a bit of your help, if you would be so kind."

"Ah - I - Of course My Lord, whatever you desire." 

"You really don't need - It's fine. I just need to know if you've seen any children recently that don't belong to the town. Humans. One would have yellow looking hair and dresses in red. The other tall and in a suit of armor.  Have you seen anyone matching these descriptions?"

Her head shakes quickly as her arms stay folded with her hands close to her chest.  The fear in her eyes made plain as she looks at him.

"N-n-no My Lord. No one. No one has come through the village for several days, but I can't claim to pay proper attention to all who cross these parts. Fo-forgive me for not being more useful."

He's sighing again as she sounds and waving a hand in the air as if to dismiss whatever wrong doings she thinks she's committed.

"That's quite alright. Thank you for your time. "

He can hear the man behind him groaning and as he turns to face his companion there are words he doesn't know if he's quite ready to deal with at the present moment.

"When we met, you told me to call you Makenshi. Not Lord Makenshi. Why do these people call you that?" The Amestrian inquires.  "What's more... they're terrified of you."

There is no motion to turn around and face the man. There's no motion to stop as he simply starts walking again instead of answering his question.

"That's not... important. We need to focus on finding any information we can about your sons before Cid's blasted alarm goes off and checks in on us."

He's still not stopping, and the only other motion the Misterican makes is to lift his left wrist where the mechanic's invention lives and he shakes it as if to draw attention to it instead of him.

The dark haired man's eyes are narrowing on his companion as he speaks again. 

"I'd say that's pretty important. People don't tend to want to help someone they're afraid of. That, or they'll be too busy panicking to remember anything. So, what's the story?"

But the Misterican fails to turn once again and continues to keep walking. They don't have time for this right now. Cid might have given him more time this round but the blond was still checking in on him regularly to make sure progress was being made or seeing if they could do anything on their own end should useful information come about, so the words 

"I will explain it all later. We need to focus on the task at hand." 

are all that leave the Light's Unlimited, causing him only to stop in his tracks when he can hear the man's body practically shift and become ready to fight back.  Misterica's heir does the only thing he can think to in that moment and that is to turn on his heel and he swings his arm snapping his right hand clearly in front of the younger man's vision as if to pull his attention straight to him. 

His voice raises and he yells "Focus. Do you want to find your sons or not?"

But obsidian eyes are burning. Burning like Brother's fire and he can feel their heat rolling in his direction. He can't say he much cares for it either. 

"I am focusing on the task at hand. We won't get anything out of these people if they're afraid. I know that for a fact."

There are eyes on them now and he can feel the village's gaze fix on his person from his back to his front. They're making a scene and now this village is fixated on the ghastly intruder that has crossed into their sacred land. 

"Well I can't change that, so just keep moving." The annoyance is growing in a tone that is normally so very gentle as jade eyes narrow down and his nose wrinkles from behind his mask. 

"He's angry."   

                   "Oh no. That poor man."  

                                                                               "That's Lord Makenshi isn't it?" 

                "It sure is. That poor fool's spoke his last line." 

"No one escapes the devil's wrath."

                                                  "Children go inside. You don't need to see this." 

    "Only an idiot would raise their voice to  one of the Lords of Gaudium." 

                               "Especially of all of them - him." 

It's then that the Amestrian's eyes burn hotter than ever before as he bellows

 "You think I don't want to find them? Do you know how agonizing it is to not know if they're alive or not? I told you already that I lost my son once. I've been nothing but forthright with you. Can you say the same?"

The town fills with the sounds of small gasps and doors closing. There are as many people fleeing the streets as there are now staring at the man in white waiting to know what he'll do next. What will Lord Makenshi  -  

"I have told you what was relevant to finding your children and getting you and your people home. That's what matters here. Returning you to your Amestris! So stay focused!!" 

The masked man's voice echoes as he meets the Amestrian's passion in kind and doors slam all around them. 

"This is the end."

 "Surely Lord Makenshi is going to kill that man." 

"Get the children off the streets. They don't need to see what is about to happen!" 

  "That boy. He dresses in white."

 "That devil no doubt." 

                                         "Are you a fool? that's Lord Makenshi"

 "Lord Makenshi?! Why would he be here?!" 

                               "You know if he shows in your town then everyone is doomed." 

"We've done nothing to anger Gaudium why would he be here." 

                                                                    "Lord Makenshi truly is the white devil." 

                                        "We're all going to die."

               "Keep your voice down, they say he has the ears of a demon." 

       "Because he is one." 

                   "Oh how have we been scorned by God to deserve this."

                                                       "We're all going to die because of that human!" 

And that was when the volcano erupted.  Everst's voice ringing loud to encompass the space around them. 

"I am. No one's going to talk to us if they're afraid." He gestures to the closed doors. "I can't be much help if I don't have more information." He's pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please, just give me something to work with so we can at least get through this town." He pauses only to glare further. 

"Or, am I really going to die because I pissed you off?"

He's been listening. Eversti has been listening to the space around them and he can hear doors slamming and a mixture of footsteps scattering and marching. He can hear so much going on at once that he can't answer.  He can't answer as his hands raise to cover his ears as he feels his body shake from the fool of emotions that are rushing his system faster than he has a chance to process -  

Marching.  It's a little further off on the edge of town.  He can hear marching.  The organized sound of boots against the dirt. 

                                         "Search the town. Leave no stone unturned." 

               "If we can bring our God, Lord Makenshi then surely he'll reward us." 

"I don't care if you have to burn it to the ground - no one leaves this town until we find him." 

                                                "Spread out." 

His breathing is picking up by the second as his mind fills with static. It's happening. He's caught. He's caught if he stays here too long and he can't fight inside the town. He can't give these people more of a reason to hate him then they already do. He's panicking as his head darts up and his hands fall away from his ears. 

He's looking in one direction and then the opposite as if to check to see if he can spot any of the opposing threat. His incoming captors if he's not careful.  They won't - they can't harm the town if he's not in it.

"They're here." He states frantically,  looking at the Amestrian with a wild look in his eyes. "They found me."   

The man in white looks as if he could be spooked by his own shadow before he turns away from his companion and runs.   

"We've never met."   echoes back from his trail as he forces himself into what is left of the crowd in the streets, only to weave in and out of buildings and back alleys until he can find himself coming to forest on the outskirts of town. 

There's no time to look back. He'll find Eversti again once he knows the coast is clear but he cannot let Gaudium take them both.  He cannot let Gaudium harm Eversti or the town.  So his left hand is flying up to his left ear, thumb pushing against the button along the bottom while he sounds out trembling. 

"Cid? Cid?  Cid can you hear me? Cid are you there? Cid answer me! Cid answer me! It's - It's Gaudium.  Cid answer me! It's Gaudium and they're on my trail. Cid! Cid I need Black Wind! Cid you have to tell Black Wind! Please Cid! Cid Answer me!"

'Why would anyone answer you, Little Cloud? You think they're your friends? I told you once and I'll tell you again. The people of this world don't care for you. They never have and they never will. That dog can't save you either. Why do you beg for someone who cares nothing for you?'

He can't be hearing this right now. He doesn't have the time. He needs to get away from the town. He needs to get away from the town so should they find him, they can't make the people of that village page for his disobedience.

Just like so many had in the past.

So many forced to pay his debts.

So his mask is flooding back as he lets his steps slow. His heart is doing no such thing, but his feet come to halt nonetheless. He needs to focus. He needs a way to run. He needs a way to get away unseen, so he needs to act like the Misterican he is and make himself some form of cover.

Quivering lips are parting as he lets himself exhale. One long and deep exhale to allow a rolling cloud of thick white to leave him. It floods through the trees, covering the ground to swallow all in it's path. This should buy him some kind of time. This should - give him some kind of advantage. At least this way they wouldn't be able to see and even if they could - it wouldn't be as well as he could. Not with his Mist in play.

No, his ears were far too sensitive for that.

He just needs to hide long enough until his soul's breath takes effect and puts them all to sleep. He just needs to wait for -

"This isn't going to work."

"If you think you can wait us out in your little cloud, you're wrong."

"We just want to talk, My Lord."

"His Excellency would just like you to return to him."

"If you can do that, this won't need to get ugly."

"There's no need to go to such extremes, Lord Makenshi."

' Little Cloud. Little Cloud, don't ignore me. You know if you don't come home soon, then more of Wonderland will die. You can hear it too, can't you? Our beautiful song? You know they all die for you. Just for you, My Precious Little Cloud.'

The voices of his pursuers are mixing with that monster's within his mind. If they get their hands on him they'll take him back to Anarchy. They will take him to that beast and - if that monster gets his hands on him again then - then - then - Oh he can feel himself growing sick while the images of Black Wind's corpse fill his mind.

He has to hold his hands over his mouth to stop himself from making any form of noise. Back pressed against a tree trunk, he feels like his heart is beating with the ferocity of a thousand war drums. He can just kill them. He could just slaughter them all but if he does then what will that say to the people of this town and what will it say to Eversti?

Killing them all would be so easy and he can feel that beast wrapping around him from the corridors of his mind and urging him to do so. It has become such a thoughtless motion in recent years. It wouldn't cost him more than a couple of minutes to strip these men of their entrails but doing that would - doing that wouldn't be right.

He isn't supposed to kill unless he doesn't have any other choice. Lady Tiamat would be ashamed that he even considered doing so... but ...

Finally does he find enough composer in himself to pull his hands away from his face and swing around to look for the men hunting him. He can hear them for the most part. He can hear leaves crunching under thick boots and as he squints through the Mist that's when he catches sight of one of them enough to notice the state of his mask - a - he's wearing a mask.

He's wearing a damnable face mask! They came prepared for this! They came prepared to take him in at any cost.

"We'll make you a deal, My Lord. Come with us and we won't take it out on the town."

"Refuse us and the town burns to the ground. "

"The White Devil takes another town tonight or you come with us and no one gets hurt."

"But what do you care about a few hundred lives?"

"You've slaughtered thousands in the name of His Excellency, haven't you?"

"So come out here and we won't hurt you or the town."

"We know you've sided with the Black Wind."

"His Excellency is most disappointed."

"It's time to return home, Lord Makenshi."

They're right. They're right and he knows it. They're right and he knows he can't run anymore. If he just gives himself up and goes back to that beast.

If he goes back to that beast then he's going to die.

How many times?

It's better if he's the one that dies than the town -

It's better if he's the one that dies than if Eversti were the one to get -

There's a sigh of defeat and he can already hear Black Wind cursing him in his mind. He can hear the Windarian cussing rolling off his Other's lips as he allows his body to float out from the position he was hiding in, hands raised to either side of his head.

He got away once, he can do it again. He got away ....with Black Wind's help. He'll be furious but he'll come for him. He just has to believe that Black Wind will come for him again. For the sake of that village, he can't risk doing anything foolish and -

"That's right. We only want to talk, My Lord. It's time to go back to His Excellency."

A man appears behind him, grabbing his wrists and pulling them down behind his back.

"On the ground." He demands and the Misterican obeys allowing his feet to sink to the ground. He can feel his captor working to tie his wrists behind his back and it takes everything in him to resist the urge to shake the man off of him. It takes everything in not to flip the man to the ground then and there only to summon the Maken to his aid.

He doesn't need his hands to defend himself and they will learn this in the grimmest way possible if they cross him and harm the town outright. There's nothing else to do here and he just has to trust that Black Wind will come -

"You’ll have to get through me first."

A voice roars through the forest, echoing all around him like a grand dragon declaring war upon on all that stand in it's path. There are those same burning obsidian orbs glaring darts in his direction, but this time they aren't looking at him.

This time he could have sworn the Amestrian was trying to burn the man behind him to ASH.

#ask || inquires of the cloud #meme || knights of the king #flameleads #arc: amestris no more #v; jaded king #//All of Mustang's speech is written by Kai - we talked this out on Disco #tw; long post #tw; ultimatiums #tw; gaslighting #tw; PTSD #tw; panic #tw; panic attack #tw; arguing #tw; fighting #tw; threats #tw; mental illness #tw; death #tw; murder

[ssolessurvivor]

 night terrors .   hold  my  muse  after  they  wake  up  from  a  nightmare . from Dany

memes - always accepting! - @incissam

There weren't many quiet nightmares, but tonight it seemed to be that way. The movie reel behind his closed eyelids, it was fairly nonviolent but still entirely haunting. The falling of soot in the air, landing like flecks of acid in his hair, the pile of bodies beside him in various stages of decay.

His friends. And strangers. When he had to be with them.

The way his body twitches, he's barely aware of it, of his voice when he says their names, he doesn't know he's murmuring it aloud in Dany's bed. His breathing comes shaky and stilted, maybe even a cough here or there from the ash stuck in his throat from the bombs, and it carries over. His fingers twitch on his gun when he hears a twig break, and those fingerprints dig into the blanket, his head shifts against the pillow as he watches only the weight of the bodies snapped it.

Only when he opens his eyes, slowly, though the intake of breath which awoke him is sharp and subdued all the same, Dany's there, holding him in her arms even though he's sweating. Even though he's shivering, and his hands come to rub his face with an exhale against his palms.

"I'm sorry." It's muffled against his palms but he eventually moves them, taking a peek at her with worried, bloodshot eyes. "Did I wake you up?"

#incissam #v; dany's #answered ask #tw; ptsd #tw; death #tw; nightmares #Q

[terrence-silver]

Do you think that if Terry had met Beloved after Vietnam, when he was still twig, that would have affected the personality and lifestyle he had in the 80s? I mean, there's a good chance he's already a father, or at least wants to be a father, which would already be a change in the playboy lifestyle he had, but how much would the beloved's presence affect his life and his psychological?

I mentioned this in the past, but I don't think Twig's Vietnam trauma changes or disappears just because he's committed or has a mellow, wholesome domestic life. It is still very much present and always will be, as is the case with PTSD; that being said, loving and being loved, truly loved, throughout your ailments, mental illness and difficulties is a blessing and I think that in the long run, deep down, Terry with a beloved, with a family, with, say, a legacy, could even grow to become a more of a volatile and unpredictable person than we've ever seen him be. Why is that so? Because he's people he can lose, beyond his own control. He's emotionally invested and compromised to the bone. Because when you have a genuine support system, a community of people who are yours in the literal sense and who know you, care for you and if you had that for decades, paired with Terry's innately possessive and sadistic tendencies, imagine what would've happened if someone just...dared hurting anyone he loves? Dared looking at them the wrong way? Love always comes with the possibility of loss and the possibility of loss makes him into a ticking time bomb that could go off any second, for any reason.

Of course, Terry is ecstatically happy.

A happier person. In ways, healthier through it.

But, in equal measure, Terry is even more dangerous. Dangerous because he feels, possibly fuelled by the same trauma he brought back home, there's always that mere possibility of an existential threat that someone or something can steal, disrupt or destroy his happiness. After all, all it took was a gunshot to the head of his friend to change the trajectory of Twig's whole life. That, and the buzz of a mishandled radio station. True love and actual connections are hard to acquire --- oh, so easy to lose.

#terry silver #terry silver twig #kk3 #cobra kai #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #fluff #angst #tw; ptsd #tw; vietnam #tw; mental illness

[to0needy]

i thought i was gonna be dead before i turn 18 and now im 24 and have no idea what im doing with my life

#borderline #borderline personality disorder #borderline thoughts #bpd #bpd vent #actually bpd #tw ptsd #actually ptsd #bpd feels #bpd thoughts #tw depressing thoughts #depressing shit #tw depressing stuff #bpd shit #bpd problems #bpd mood #bpd stuff #text

[a-sip-of-milo]

It's always infuriated me hearing people say that children have it easy. It's only gotten worse as I've gotten older and have been able to reflect on my childhood and see the children around me grow up.

They do not have it easy. They don't get a say in most important things. They're seen is unintelligent, yet expected to understand things that full grown adults struggle with.

They've got a job, which is school, that is actually proven to not be working for a lot of them; myself included. They're expected to sit still and in silence for at least forty minutes at a time, and those with ADHD are treated as though they're immature and lazy because they often physically can't do it.

Far too many of them have abusive parents that lie through their teeth to make people think everything is fine, and of course, who would believe the child over the parent?

Aspects of abuse has been normalised. Parents are sympathised with when children open up about the things they've gone through, especially if they're not physical. They're told that their parents are only doing this because they love them, or that the child needs to start seeing things from their point of view. Meanwhile, adults can freely complain about their children on public forums and to friends and family and get away with it because "it's hard being a parent".

Fuck off and do better.

DNI Believers of narcissistic/borderline/anti-social/histrionic abuse.

#child abuse #tw child abuse #adhd #actually adhd #childhood ptsd #childhood memories #tw childhood abuse #narc abuse does not exist #npd safe

[smolcuriouskitten]

|| The Forest || When was a time your muse spent a night frightened for their life? How did they handle it?

The door closed as she laid her back against the cool wood. A soft and relieved sigh left her lips as her hands shook with anxiety. Today was the shared memorial of Magic and Renia after the fire she caused burned the only bit of sanity she had left away. The sight of her husbands red hat on her coffee table made her sick, thinking of how much she had to shower this man in compliments and twist the narrative of how much of a hero he was. How he saved her life as a mysterious killer burned the building down after shooting her mother. Her and her family knew the truth but in history hes painted as this wonderful person. She was exhausted on all fronts, having to play up as a wife, now widow, stricken with grief. She didnt care enough to sleep or shower, she just exists in her pain since it feels familiar. Then she remembers his friends, his friends that helped her feel an unimaginable pain. The realization kicks in. They were at the memorial and they knew the truth and they would be angry that their friend is not around to give them a 'plaything.' Whose to say they wont come back? Do it again or cause her even more pain than Magic ever did? The delusion was weighing on her and that PTSD came in full force. The truth was her family took care of them, made sure they couldnt hurt her or anyone else again but she didnt know that. She was left to her own mind, whispering things to her and about how she has to watch her back. She was left sleepless, anxious, and a shell of herself for months.

#ding dong; {answered} #tw; ptsd #tw; depression #tw; abuse mentions #tw; death #dont pull it!; {triggers tag} #{wrote this in a form of a drabble hope thats okay!}