#tw: flashbacks

[corrie-bite]

(from: @squad380) for Spotify wrapped starters/asks: 27

[Nice, song 27: Panic Room by Au/Ra]

Bite wakes with a jolt and a loud swear, tumbling from his top bunk and groaning as he lands on the previously distant floor.

"Kriff, one night of uninterrupted sleep in all I ask for." Bite mumbles in staggered, sharp breaths, aware of the vode sleeping around him. He pushes himself up on shaking limps as the adrenaline from his nightmare continues to rage through him.

In the darkness of the barracks, Bite could have sworn he was somewhere else, the cold floor only serving to help his mind send him places he never wants to think of again. Only the steady breathing of sleeping clones, intrupted by the sounds of rustling sheets and creeking frames, grounds him in the room.

Even now, Bite can feel the panic in his throat, and the images of past horrors flash across his vision. The shaking has spread throughout his entire body, and his breathing is still uneven. With each thunderous beat of his heart, Bite moved further into the shadows of his mind.

[silvcrignis]

trace for claude !

{Meme}: Send “Trace” to purposely touch one of my muse’s scars {x}

He did NOT mean to dart away from the brush of her fingers against the raised skin across the back of his neck but he DID, his pale eyes suddenly entirely catatonic as his left hand clamped over the area that he swore was TINGLING.

Reality was entirely falling away from him, he was not there WITH her anymore, he was in that asylum with a wry young soldier snidely asking his companion a question that would end up leading to his death.

The bastard DID still have it in him to d a n c e.

He was COMPLETELY still, his chest was not even moving to imply he was BREATHING.

[thiselectricnightmare]

It's always stuff like this that makes me feel the girliest (positive).

[timeguardians]

when's the last time you were there? (Bri)

Haunted eyes divert, trailing towards a rain-tainted window. In the glassy surface, she manages to catch her reflection. Her expression is solemn, darkening with an unusual fatigue. It takes her several moments to swallow down the flashbacks, the fear that is still housed well within the core of her bones.

She thought Ras Al Guhl had helped her overcome this fear. Yet, here it is, clawing coldly up every vertebre of her spine. Resisting its ugly onset, Wayne's porcelain fingers curl into balls.

If Wayne looks down, she could almost invision the sopping crimson staining into the whirls in the pads of her finger-tips. She swallows, knots tightening in her gut. Her gaze is HARDENED. She remembers keenly how it felt to be vulnerable, powerless.

She swallows. The moment passes as quickly as it arrives. "I have not gone back to the opera house since Joe Chill gunned down my parents in Crime Alley." The answer is bled of her usual bouyancy. "Until now, I have had no desire to go back there." The pain of their murders was NEVER far from her. No matter where she ran, how far she ran, it hung over her like a SHROUD. "It's time I stop running. Don't you agree?" Crime Alley is in desperate need of a clean-up.

[arwenkenobi48]

Serious trigger warning: mental illness, trauma, self loathing, brief mentions of CSA

Worst flashback I’ve had in months just happened, it came completely out of nowhere* and lasted over five hours. It’s over now thankfully and I can finally remember who/where I am again but I’m still feeling really sick and sad in the aftermath and deeply ashamed of what happened too. I feel utterly pathetic.

It’s hard not to feel disgust towards myself for having such a bad experience, especially when I think about what would make me feel better; someone wrapping their arms around me, gently shushing me and rocking me slowly while softly singing me a lullaby. What I wouldn’t give for that warm, fatherly presence and comfort in this moment, but I know that it won’t happen in real life. Somehow that makes me long for it all the more.

I just can’t help feeling like I’ve let down all my friends and loved ones because of my trauma. Part of me feels angry with myself for having it and for not being able to handle life as much as I want to. I just want to be able to get out there and do something with my life but I can’t because of this. I feel useless.

I don’t know how long this period of crisis is going to last, but I feel like it’s going to take a long time to recover from this. I wouldn’t wish this kind of pain on my worst enemy. I’m so sorry, everyone, for all of this. I wish I didn’t have such a fractured mind.

*I say that, but I think it had something to do with the fact that I’ve finally recognised the full extent of my birthgiver’s abuse towards me. She molested me. I hate to say this, but I hope nobody goes to her funeral when she dies.

[sporeclan]

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What he knows.

[capsicle107]

you take the man out of the city, not the city out the man

[frownyalfred]

Actually Oliver Queen (an Arrow-adjacent version at least) and Bruce Wayne bonding over their past experiences with torture and imprisonment (the stories they could tell make even Arthur look wary) while the rest of the JL Founders just look horrified in the background should be a new fic trope.

Let’s leave FMK games behind, and replace it with variations of: “Remember that fingernail thing?” / “Yeah, with the lime juice.” / “I did that thing twice before I realized there’s a trick to it.” / “No shit, there’s a trick?” / “Yeah, when they first insert the pliers under the nail, you tense up your thighs and—-”

[sara-the-wizard]

I Care. Chapter 6 (part 1/2) (Rottmnt comic)

Donnie and Raph assemble the wheelchair back together for Leo. And honestly, after being stuck in bed for a week, Leo is super excited to get away from the med bay! On the other hand, Donnie doesn't think he deserves any gratitude for finding the wheelchair pieces. It was his fault Leo was hurt in the first place! Donnie wanted to set things right and fix Leo. Truthfully, it looks like everything would be okay! But... Leo's not out of danger yet.

Next Part: Previous Part: Start:

[cloroxcasser0le]

Jax has a flashback after looking at corn 🌽

Pretty fast paced. I’m bad at comics lol

[cedric-k-rossignol]

Emerald Witch | Ciel & Finny Meet

[ghosts-and-glory]

Hi, your Shamura and Narinder stuff has permanently altered my brain chemistry(positively). Do you have any thoughts on what their pre-betrayal relationship was like and how it's changed??

How many times can I make the same joke of saying they’re fine after dropping the most painful possible answer?

Am I vaguely spoiling the end of my betrayal comic? Maybe…

Rambling under the cut

Narinder was the only sibling Shamura ever made the mistake of allowing their relationship to ever sway parental. When Kallamar got his crown they still had The Priestess around to raise them but with Narinder The Priestess was gone and Shamura was in their twenties now responsible for a five year old. For lack of a better term, Narinder was in the position to be failed the worst by them.

By the time Narinder has been saved from purgatory Shamura is more conscious and suffers less from their brain injury. They find it hard to do so much as look at each other.

[animatedjen]

Run Boy Run - Cal Kestis

[matteolazkano]

He knew who the man was. The ghost, Liam couldn't fight. The ghost that has haunted not only his son, but Matteo as well. Don't lose control, he tried to remind himself, you cannot kill him a second time, he is already dead. More than vengeance, the wolf wanted to pull Liam close, shelter his frostbitten soul, stroke his frightened back and head. How could he, when the boy was only running further and further away? How could he touch him, hold him — without causing him more pain?

Don't lose your temper — a mantra, loud in his head, almost as loud as the voice of that torturous ghost. He wanted to be louder, needed to ground himself, before he turned into a beast. A fur covered beast, unlike the dead man tormenting his son, had claws that could slice flesh to pieces. A ghost could only haunt, and for so long, until the sun went up in the sky again.

As if moving right through the shadow shaped man, Matteo went down on his knees to meet Liam's level. Forcing his eyes on him, he pleaded: "He isn't real, Liam. This isn't real."

Matteo had his back turned, tuning out ghostly demands, to save his own flickering humanity, that was on the verge of plummeting. "There is nothing he could do to you, that I would ever allow, Liam." voice soft and soothing, in contrast of the fury boiling within his veins, turning blood to hot lava. He itched all over. Not now, he begged the beast, not now.

His body had been positioned in a way to block the phantom from reaching him, as a barrier between the two. "Don't look at him. Look at me." it was firm, but gentle, the way he used to remind him to grab a jacket, on his way out, when he was just a kid. "You are okay, Liam. You're okay"

I'm here, I'm here, I'm here.

Liam could hear Matteo, but he couldn't focus on what he was saying. Not with his hands over his ears, trying to block out someone else's voice. He shook his head back and forth as he tried to keep the tears at bay but he could only manage for so long. His chest ached as flashbacks flooded to the forefront of his mind, clawing at him, sinking it's nails so deep within him that Liam began to shake.

He whimpered as he backed up into the farthest wall, away from the front door. But it didn't matter. Killian was stepping through the threshold as if he'd been invited in. Walking around as if it was his own home.

"Your boy?" Killian tilted his head to the side as his eyes flickered towards the elder man. "He's most definitely not. Not even fucking close. He's mine, and he will always be mine. Isn't that right, Liam?" And then there was a chuckle as Liam felt Killian's eyes on him again. "Take your hands off of your ears. It's disrespectful to not listen when your father is talking to you. I taught you better than that, didn't I?"

Liam's skin crawled, nausea rolling through his stomach once again. It was then when his body broke down. When the tears came and didn't stop. Liam collapsed onto the ground, his nails digging into the skin around his own ears, trying to block it all out. "Leave me alone. Leave me alone!" Liam tried to shout but it came out more like he was begging.

And then he remembered Matteo's daughter, who was most likely somewhere in the house. His heart sank. I shouldn't have come here. Liam's heartbeat knocked harshly against his chest. He couldn't be there. He needed to leave. If Killian hadn't been against doing what he did to him as a child, then what's to say he wouldn't find Matteo's child interesting? No. He had to leave. He couldn't let that happen.

His mind was brought to the present as his step dad took a step forward, raised his hand, and Liam flinched before his hand even swung down towards his face. Liam expected to feel the full force of it. To be thrown to the side by Killian's strength. But instead, his hand slipped through his body like nothing. It didn't connect.

Which left Liam frozen there, on the ground. Confused.

Killian let out a low growl. "Would you be a team player and strike him for me?" He was addressing Matteo now. "It seems as though I can't and it's the only way to get him to fucking listen."

[eeblueberry]

GirlThing* who will be having regular PTSD flashbacks in 6 months voice: "It so weird how I had a perfect childhood with loving parents and siblings. I wish I had trauma to explain why I'm Like This."

[pastafossa]

DDBA SPOILER REALIZATION THOUGHT, SERIOUS ANGST

How we feeling about the realization I just had that Matt is probably drinking red wine in his apartment even though he prefers cheap beer because the smell of cheap beer is likely now tied irrevocably to his memory of Foggy's death?

They were at Josie's.

They were at Josie's: cheap beer, hops, bitterness. He knows that scent.

A scent now mingled forever in his mind with the taste of sour fear, of death in the air.

And of lingering copper, and the anguished, familiar tang of tears and Foggy's cologne.