#uwu trauma:)

[aroaceleovaldez]

underappreciated Nico detail that I like - he seems to be an angry crier! very frequently he's angry when he cries and he cries when he's extremely angry. very AuDHD of him. emotional regulation sucks my guy and he's just going through it.

[doggoboigaugau]

Stray dog (Part 7)

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male Reader

Summary: Male Reader apologizes to Ghost after the incident. The two men confess.

Word count: 1516

Warning: Slight description of violent thoughts.

And here he is. Without the skull mask. The face of the man that has appeared so many times in your dream. Blond hair, long and perfectly curling eyelashes that slightly shadow his brown eyes. A long scar that starts at the corner of his left eyebrow, pretty near to his piercing, and runs down to the corner of his mouth. He looks even prettier than you could ever imagine. But you would never wish that you’ll see his real face for the first time in such a scenario like this. You gulp, trying not to stare at the three red scratches on his right cheek.

“I– I’m sorry…” Finally, you muster enough courage to say the words. Your mind thought of what had brought you here, into this embarrassing situation. You and the first man you’ve ever had a real crush on, Fyodor, met again after years of no contact. You lost yourself and found a place to fall into your old habit of burning your arm with cigarettes. Ghost found out, people started to surround you, and you got mad and attacked him like a rabid dog before running away. Then, Soap showed up in front of your door, and stayed with you in your room for a while, helping you to mentally prepare for this difficult ‘speech’ of apology.

Ghost looks at you, his brown eyes narrow, probably to gauge how sincere you are with your apology. The three scratches on his cheek that no one but you caused during the motion glow so bright to your eyes that it makes you feel even more guilty and horrible than you already were. 

“Y/n, did you know you strip my mask off during that little act of yours? In front of everyone?” Ghost hisses, obviously very angry and disappointed.

You widen your eyes, feeling a lump in your throat as you try to say something. Anything. But you know nothing can fix what you caused. It’s because of you that everyone there has seen Ghost’s face, the thing that he has put effort into to hide from people. 

Soap says, “Look, I’m not trying to underestimate the severity of this situation, but I just wanna say that I did step up and help Ghost to hide his face in time before anyone can have a good look at its prettiness.”

Now Ghost’s burning eyes turn to Soap and the Scottish man chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, “Sorry… You two continue, I won’t butt in.”

Again, the man of your dream turns his attention back to you, and you have to embarrassingly admit to yourself that he still looks so hot being angry like this. You turn your head slightly to the side with the hope that none of the two men will notice how blushingly red your cheeks and neck have gotten. 

“Look straight in my eyes, Y/n.” The man roars.

Tremblingly, you turn your head back to look him in the eyes as he demands.

“Why did you do that to yourself?” Ghost asks, as he grabs your left arm and lifts it up to emphasize his point. His fingers squeeze around your flesh so tightly that you unknowingly grimace.

“I– I don’t really know…” You stutter. The Brit is furious, his aura is powerful and intimidating, and you can do nothing but shrink in his raged presence. 

“You don’t know? YOU DON’T KNOW??” Simon grits each word through his teeth.

Tears brim in your eyes again, “I don’t know! Alright? It’s just… I just felt this burning anger inside my body, my stomach, and I wanted to… do something… to hurt someone! I wanted to punch someone really hard in the face multiple times! And then when they fell to their knees, I’d kick them really hard in the face. Then– then I’d peel their skin off! But I cannot hurt anyone but myself, so I did it! I burnt my arm and it made me feel better!”

Simon stares blankly at you, saying nothing but breathing heavily. Soap observes you two carefully, his eyes move between you and Simon.

You expect Simon to scream back at you, calling you ugly names, like a failure, a monster, a psychopath, a liability, or just a crazy, unloveable dog. But all his reaction is a surprisingly soft, trembling voice, “This is the first time you’ve ever opened up to us…”

Your big puppy eyes widen again at the man, as never in your dream would anyone respond this way to such bloody, concerning words.

“W-what?”

“I said, this is the first time you’ve ever opened up to us.” The man ‘kindly’ repeats the sentence for you, and Soap almost bursts out laughing. The Scot is notorious for laughing in unfitting circumstances.

“Well, actually he opened up to me just a few minutes ago.” Soap jokes.

“Shut up, Soap.” Simon rolls his eyes annoyedly. 

“Sorry, sorry…” Soap giggles and then does the ‘zipping’ motion across the line of his mouth to indicate that he won’t butt in again and he’s serious this time.

“Y/n, why is it so hard for you to open up? To trust us?” Simon proceeds, his brown eyes glittering in the dim sunlight that manages to pass through many layers of blinds into his own dark room as if he’s crying. But he is not, because there is no tear. 

Seeing that you’re not replying, he pries further, “Why??”

It’s quite ridiculous to think that it turns out Simon is the one who has this kind of talk with you. About ‘Why don't you just open up?’. Admittedly, no one will expect this seemingly emotionless man under that legendary skull mask and with the thickest shell ever to be forcing this conversation onto you. You thought he must’ve known why. You thought you two are somewhat similar, and he’ll understand why you do the things you do. Two wounded children who have to spend a lifetime trying to find ways to ease the pain engraved so deeply in their souls. He should’ve known…and helped you to avoid opening up about it. Instead, unfortunately, he’s here, making you pour your heart out.

“Alright! I’ll tell you why!” You shout, and the mountain of a man flinches, obviously not expecting you to be so harsh, “I’m just– not really good at maintaining relationships, OK?” Your brain starts playing tricks on you again, as Fyodor’s face pops so vividly inside your mind, along with the memories between you and him, and between you and some other people whom you wish things could’ve been different… 

“I don’t understand how relationships work. I don’t understand how other people do it so easily. I don’t know, they just… they send each other stupid messages, stupid little jokes and memes, and then they hang out with each other,... I try to do the exact same things as them, but still I can’t. Everything that has me in it is just meant to end sooner or later. No matter how much effort I put into a relationship, it still ends in one way or another. It’s just– I’m just– different.” You stop to catch your breath. It feels like your heart can jump out of your ribs at any moment now and it’s hard to breathe. Then, you realize your vision is blurry, and that you’ve been crying this whole time.

Simon is silent for a while, before speaking again, “So… you don’t believe any relationship will work for you, so you just don’t open up to avoid…”

“Attachment.” You say. Breathlessly. “I will never be who I want to be.”

“What do you mean?” Simon is right in front of you. You two are so close now that you can feel the heat of his body radiating around you, as if it’s wrapping you up in the warm cloth of a blanket. He lifts his hand and wipes your tears rolling down on your rosy cheek with his rough thumb.

“I want to be…a happy, humorous, and likable person. Someone who can crack funny jokes. Someone with a positive and attractive aura. Someone who can make people immediately like them and want to be around them. Someone who has a lot of friends, knows a lot of people,... Someone is able to give love in return…”

“I’m pretty sure you’re already such a person.” Simon speaks gently, his voice is soft and warm.

“No. It’s just a facade. A mask. The truth is I’m a despicable person filled with ugly thoughts and jealousy.” You shake your head.

“What’s so fun wishing to be someone else?” Soap suddenly speaks up after being silent and observing you two for so long. He moves closer to you too, and now you realize you’re being cornered by both of the men. As you instinctively take a few steps back to maintain a ‘safe’ distance, the Scot smirks dangerously, amused at how scared you appear to be and how your adorable puppy eyes nervously dart between him and Simon.

“We love you for who you really are.”

*

To be continued... (Our men finally confess...)

Taglist:@justdawn @killmeprettypleasee @livelaugh-light @therealppboy @arthurmorgansballsack @redjeanjacket @gay-as-hell-blog @b0g-b0y @somothegraffitiartist @kodasstar @teippirulla @aphroditeslovr @peter-the-pan @wvandahoe@c0nny3917@talia-the-gemini

[apostate-in-an-alcove]

LGBTQ Christians, like a lot of Christians, value their feelings and comfort over the very real harm caused by Christianity and the people who've been harmed by it. Good for you that your denomination is affirming and you have every right to practice the religion of your choice but how fucking dare you try to dictate how people should feel about a god and religion that has been used as a tool to oppress the very community you're a part of.

[moonlit-dreamers]

im gonna try and keep this short so people dont look at this and go "long post i wont read"

i just wanna talk about how lunar and sun are treated so differently even though they are both trauma and abuse survivors (im not arguing about whether sun isnt or not, because he is and im not diving into that)

lunar is what people usually think of when they think of "trauma survivor." when he gets triggered he panics, he runs, and he cries.

sun is *not* what people think of when they think of trauma survivor. when sun gets triggered he panics, he fights, and he gets violent

(ever heard of fight or flight?)

sun is *still* a trauma survivor and how he reacts is a *trauma response. and it is a common response.*

with trauma disorders its common for the people with them to become irritable and violent when upset. *that* is what sun is experiencing.

stop demonizing a traumatized person for having unpalatable trauma responses. its wrong and ableist towards trauma survivors who are violent and angry because theyre scared.

[nightmarearian]

do you think the abyss healed Childe’s scars?

realistically I know it’s stupid graphics & model “limitations”

But do you think his skin looks as normal as it did before he fell.

Cause when they’re hit, an abyss monster.

They disintegrate.

Do you think Ajax’s scars healed like that? In the abyss? After it, too?

Do you think they burned? Or was it numb, as the darkened skin faded away with little, yellow, glowing particles?

That he has no evidence of his suffering for those three months in hell (and his only companion’s silence) but dull eyes no one wants to look at?

Callouses on his hands and feet that no one pays attention to? Takes care of?

That he shows his prowess and uncanniness and abyssal hunger because that’s the only way how? Yes. he is hungry and wants a fight. Look at him. He’s off. Broken now.

Look at him.

Please.

[chocmoon-latte]

Another reason why I think Hancock would have a crush on the Sole Survivor besides the obvious fact that you're out here helping the people of the Commonwealth, or how he thought you were an innocent vault dweller who needed protecting, is the fact that he's finally got someone he can be emotionally vulnerable with. Being the mayor of such a dangerous place like Goodneighbor means he needs to keep up a reputation to match it. There's no room for him to be soft or emotional in a place like this.

He's happy when strangers know who he is for having reputation that precedes him for being deadly because it eliminates any chances of someone out there possibly getting the idea that he might actually have a sweeter, more caring side. That's one of the main reasons why he even killed Finn in the first place. But he WANTS to be able to express softness. The problem is just that Goodneighbor isn't the place to do it, and a lot of the kinds of people you find in the Commonwealth in general aren't really the greatest types to be emotionally open towards anyways. In a world like this, it's something that could very easily be held against him.

He tells you that it's lonely being mayor and that he's running out on the good things and people he's got. He tells you that he's always been the one telling others to keep the emotion out of relationships in the past, but here he is being open and emotional with you. He says that everyone is entitled to some softness, himself included… but after he opens up to you about running out on the good things in his life, he asks you not to tell anyone else. Not necessarily because of the fact that it's personal, but because of the fact that he's afraid of word spreading around about this more emotionally vulnerable side of him and that people will think he's crazy for it (and as a side note, let's be honest, we've all seen how society on a larger scale views emotionally vulnerable men as weak).

A lot (not all) of his contradicting ideals when you first meet him make so much more sense when you look at him through the lens of a man desperately trying to conceal and repress the more sensitive side to him. The way he just lets you get away with so much during The Big Dig questline, even if you take your time to do every little thing against him. It's obvious that he doesn't really care all too much about punishing you - he just likes knowing he still has the power to make people frantically scramble to please him, because it helps uphold his reputation.

If there's one thing Hancock hates being more than anything, it's being powerless and weak. His biggest traumas come from how he was unable to protect the ghouls in Diamond City from being exiled or protect the drifters in Goodneighbor from being abused by Vic. If people in the Commonwealth knew there was a softer side to him, a large majority of the more dangerous organizations, especially the ones operating in his town, would consider him weak. If Hancock was considered a weak leader, then he wouldn't be considered fit to protect the innocent people that he so sworn to protect.

It's always baffled everyone how Hancock doesn't show any sadness when it comes to the death of Fahrenheit or finding out his brother was replaced by a synth and killed years prior, but I'm starting to wonder if we've been looking at it the wrong way this entire time. Maybe Hancock's lack of being visibly upset over them had nothing to do with Bethesda making poor writing decisions (they kind of do tbh), but had everything to do with him repressing his emotions.

So when he gets to travel with YOU the player, who has no prior knowledge of him, his reputation or past (and you aren't just another citizen he has to put on a show for) he feels like he can let his walls down around you. He's allowed to be emotionally vulnerable because he doesn't have to pretend to BE someone for you, and in turn, he feels like he doesn't have to run anymore.

(That was a lot sorry but I tend to get my thoughts out better in the form of long ramblings. Honestly there's so many ways he can be interpreted though, but I guess this is just somewhat of an analysis/me theorizing a little)

[stardustedknuckles]

I've considered the prevailing opinion a lot of folks seem to have that yasha never rages anymore and there's some fun in asking when is the last time in her life she's gone six months without raging, but I can't help it. It feels disingenuous to the whole story of her finding and claiming her own strength and purpose to relegate her rage to something as simple as a symbol of trauma. I don't think it's been six months since she's raged. I don't think it's been six days. I think a free and happy Yasha is a passionate Yasha who puts herself entirely into everything she does and I don't really think the veggies get a free pass, yanno. I think she rages when she's excited and she rages when it's going to impress a bunch of kids. She rages when the lasagna bakes all the way through for the first time and when she bangs her hip on the edge of the kitchen table she raged to cut from the wood herself.

Yasha's story was never about healing from her rage or turning away from violence. It's always been a part of her and it's part and parcel with the strength she's proud of. She was never only strong because she had to be. She was always strong, and also she had to be. The fact that she gets to choose - narratively, because she's free, and mechanically since her rage is now indefinite - is all that matters. She didn't get those scars from gardening, and she didn't get a Chainbreaker tattoo in memoriam of a purpose and a role as the avatar of the stormlord that she'd only just embraced when we last saw her.

We got a glimpse into their lives. That's all it was, a glimpse. A random day in which happiness looked like rubbing Beau's feet and picking flowers from their garden. There are so many ways to find joy every day and I don't see any reason that what brought it out in her before - what she could do, who she could be on her own terms with all of her might at her own control - should be completely discarded in favor of viewing all of her accomplishments as synonymous with trauma and things to be left behind. It just doesn't track to me.

[deiaiko]

#20.3 Company

"Where's Dan and Novick?" Grace asked, finding the living room unusually empty.

"They're going to the cinema since Agni gave us a day off today, cluck."

"Is that so?" Of course Agni had thought this far ahead. No wonder their teammates didn't try to wake either of them up. "I think we do need some time off."

"Speaking of, where's Agni?" Gyetang glanced at Grace and Agni's door.

"Ah. He's quite sick right now. I was about to fetch him some medicine and get us breakfast." Grace made his way down the stairs and allowed Bam to follow him.

Gyetang peeked from above. "Would you like me to take over your shift for lunch, cluck?"

Grace considered the offer. He did like cooking, and it usually worked wonders on easing his anxiety. But then Agni came to his mind, and Grace wanted nothing but to stay by his side until he got better. "I would really appreciate it, Gyetang. Sorry about that."

"It's no problem! How about macaroni soup?"

"Sounds good!"

"Got it, cluck." Gyetang gave him a salute and disappeared from his view.

Gyetang's cheerful aura filled some of the emptiness in Grace's chest. It sort of reminded him of Rak and Isu, and it made his heart ache again. He didn't want to cry now– he had cried enough last night, but the corner of his eyes started burning from the unshed tears. The fact that he would never be able to see them again was still a hard pill to swallow.

Bam tugged his shirt, and Grace realized he had been staring into the distance, stopping just in front of the storage room. He gave Bam an apologetic smile and went in, quietly searching between the aisles for the medicine Agni had listed. Bam not once let go of his shirt, as if he was trying to ground him. Surprisingly, it worked, seeing that his mind was brought to the weight of Bam's pull. Grace wondered how much Bam knew, looking at Bam's attempt to comfort him. Hwaryun must've told him what was going on, right? Was it the reason for his visit? Or did Bam just want his company after yesterday's breakdown regarding Rachel? Grace hoped it wasn't the latter.

Pocketing the needed medicine, Grace led them back upstairs to the kitchen where Gyetang had prepared two portions of reheated omelet fried rice and three glasses of orange juice. Looking at it, Grace realized he never had to find out what his old team's favorite foods were. So many moments he had missed, times that he could've used on getting to know them better. How could they still consider him a friend?

Gyetang waved from the living room, pulling Grace out of his daze. "Have you eaten yet, Viole? I can cook you something quick, cluck."

Grace could hear Bam's stomach growl, yet Bam didn't say anything. Grace figured Bam was probably torn between accepting and not being a bother to Gyetang. So he placed his hand on Bam's shoulder. "You can have Agni's share. I don't think he can stomach it right now anyway. I will get him some snacks instead."

So they both sat in the cafeteria, while Gyetang resumed playing on the game console. Bam stole careful glances at Grace between taking a spoonful, although Grace tried to ignore the worried look and ate his own ration as well. He wasn't really in the chatty mood right now, and he was thankful that Bam didn't try to start any conversation, or worse, pepper him with questions.

The food tasted bland, but maybe it was just him since Bam seemed to enjoy it. Grace finished the meal quickly. The uneasy and cold shinsu coming from their dorm room was getting harder to ignore. "Sorry, I can't accompany you for long. I really need to check on Agni."

Bam locked eyes with him before looking away, swallowing his food. "Okay."

Grace felt guilty for leaving his guest unattended, but he was more restless if he left Agni for longer. Even if Agni currently wasn't in immediate danger, Grace just couldn't help but worry. Still, he felt the need to make it up to Bam. So he put his hand on Bam's shoulder and pulled him into a side hug, "Thank you for stopping by. It means a lot to me."

Bam leaned his head to the embrace. "I will stay here for a while, if that's okay."

The unspoken 'I will be here if you need me' was clear to Grace. A warm feeling filled in his heart and he knew everything would eventually be okay again.

"Of course. Make yourself at home." Grace gave Bam a few pats on the back before pulling away and making his way to the kitchen to wash the dishes. "Is there anything you would like to do in the meantime, Bam?"

Gyetang overheard Grace's raised voice from across the room. "You're welcome to join me, cluck! The game is more fun with multiple players."

The offer seemed to pique Bam's interest. Bam looked at Grace with twinkling eyes, as if searching for approval that he shouldn't need to ask for. Grace returned with a nod and a warm smile, knowing very well that at this point Bam hadn't gotten the luxury of being able to play games, let alone with a friend.

After putting the dishes to dry, Grace rummaged through the kitchen cabinet to find some salty crackers. He put them on a tray along with the juice and a bottle of water. Before going into his dorm, he cast one last glance at Bam and Gyetang. "I will be back for lunch. Just knock if you need me."

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[inconclusionray]

If I see one more "poor Izzy was in an abusive relationship for twenty years :'(" take I'm going to set this pirate ship on fire.

[ourdreamsareneon]

okay *cracks knuckles* I did a post about gale, time for his better half - astarion

Some of you don't have media literacy and it shows.

I dont know where to start so I'm gonna go hard before getting soft (insert sex joke.) Act 1 astarion is an asshole. He's manipulative and toxic and uses his power as a ~230 year old vampiric high elf to manipulate you into (among other things) having sex with him. I understand falling for him at that point, that's not your fault it's just the game gaming and the writers are really good at how they write his manipulation. However, it does strike me as strange that some of y'all get to the scene where he confesses to using and manipulating you and you....don't care? 'He's just damaged! its not his fault!' babygirl, someone can have a good reason for hurting you, but that doesn't take away the pain. I'm not saying that you shouldn't still love him, but it's strange how many of you disregard that scene. I know for me at least I was saddened by it and definitely was a little wary about him afterwards until beating Cazador and unlocking the nice happy healthy Astarion relationship.

Now here's where we get soft to prove that I actually like Astarion. The reason that confession stings for me is because I have many a memory of being SA'd then being told "I'm not even into you, you were just there." Ever since I stopped being a girl and became a woman, something that happened all too early in my life, I have been used and abused. And hey, sorry for making my Tav the exact same way but I like processing my trauma through D&D. I relate a lot to Astarion. Hurt people hurt people and I know that better than anyone. I also know better than anyone that picking yourself up and healing from that hurt sucks ass. Which brings me to two points. Um apologies for getting hard on you again.... insert another sex joke here.

1) Astarion isn't ace. I've seen this briefly and while I appreciate the need for queer rep, and love headcanons, I do think this discounts the struggle a lot of SA survivors go through. Okay, back to my life so we can compare. When I was chin deep in my abusive relationships and just general shitty time of my life, I was fucking and sucking literally so much it hurt. However as soon as I got out of that situation, I basically became celibate for 2 years. I didn't know how to have sex in a way that was healthy, or that wouldn't make me feel awful about myself. It was only this year that I was able to finally have sex in a way that made me happy. I think you'd be blind not to see Astarion in the same way. He's just a hurt man that is trying to rediscover and heal himself. Which is why he doesn't care about Tav and Halsin, and why you can have sex on his grave. He is very sexually open he just needs some time.

2) Ascended Astarion isn't sexy and I don't think some of you are ready for that conversation. Look I don't have time to go through this because I have a meeting in 30 minutes because I'm an adult with bad time management. But I just. Come here. Come real close. Abusive relationships aren't hot and sexy. We all love a little bit of kink but if you don't see Ascended Astarion as clearly the bad choice, I'm very confused. He's so sweet and loving and kind and HEALED if you don't let him ascend, I can't imagine not wanting that. And like I said, kink is fine! And ascending him because you're doing an evil run or whatever is also fine! Just please, I need teenagers to stop romanticising abuse because the media you consume does rub off on you.

TL;DR I love Astarion with all my heart, but by the writers own admission he was created as a Try Not To Overly Sexualise an Abuse Survivor Challenge and y'all are failing left and right!

[doggoboigaugau]

Stray dog (Part 6)

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male Reader

Summary: Soap goes to see Male Reader after the incident between him and Ghost.

Word count: 2033

Warning: none.

You know you’ve fucked up. Losing control over your own actions and unleashing your emotions on your L.T. in front of everyone. Now you’ll be seen as a liability. If they’re kind enough, they may cross your name out of the upcoming mission and will take care of you later after the mission is over, and if not, they can get rid of you, making you transfer elsewhere and then you will have to start from scratch again, trying to build relationships with new faces while coping with the strange circumstances. Not that you are anything near as close with the other men of the 141 as they are to each other, but at least they’ve been around you enough to understand you to a certain extent and will let you have a leeway occasionally with the meetings or the paper works when they notice you’re not really OK for those seemingly effortless errands. With new people? You probably will have to shut your mouth and forget about your own emotional needs pretty usually so as not to be the center of disdain and labeled as an incompetent outcast.

As these thoughts run through your mind like midnight trains that seemingly carry with them the hope and dream of a lone onlooker into the pitch darkness, you sit in your room, door is locked, all windows are closed shut, with hands covering your face. You dread the thought of having to adapt to a new environment with new people so much that you think if the worst-case scenario ever happens, you will just end it all to save yourselves from further suffering and your stupid, unrealistic expectations. 

What kind of expectations specifically? Well, you’ve never created a positive impression on any other teams before the 141 since you’re always that timid, reversed, and obviously mentally struggling pathetic wet blanket that stayed in the corner every meeting. No one wanted to talk to you or spend their precious leisure time with you because no one wanted to waste their time on a depressed little shit, or get heavily attached to by a crybaby that demanded their attention 24/7 or else he’d think he was worth nothing to them. Therefore, whenever you received the news that you’d be transferred to a new team, you always expected a new chance to be a different person. You would always try to muster all your courage and all the…qualities closest to extroversion inside you (if it ever exists) with the hope that this new team could be different. You would present them with a more optimistic, outgoing, and attractive picture of yourself, and they would remember to include you in everything, like some silly card games, some sparring bets, or simply just listing your name along with theirs when they plan to do something. You thought the feeling of loneliness and isolation that you used to feel among your old teammates would end. You thought you would stop feeling so invisible. 

Technically, you do achieve these things while being with the 141, although you’re still the depressed, pathetic boy that refuses to open up for fear of your expectations not being lived up to; it’s your coping mechanism: you’d rather have nothing after all than risk being hurt. The 141 consists of kind and considerate men; they all have their secret, traumatic background stories so they understand that sometimes you need your time alone to process your own emotions without even having to know the exact reasons why; they always include you in everything they do, and it warms your heart every time they call out your name and insist on you going with them to different places. Still, one problem persists though, which is the inevitable fact that you have grown so attached to them that you feel impossible to ever have to leave. Even the thought of it makes your heart sink and your stomach lurch. It makes you feel physically sick. What’s worse is you probably mean nowhere near as significant to them as they are to you, which is a truth you cannot escape but still try so hard to ignore.

It was about some hours after the incident when someone knocked on your door. You try to stay as quiet as possible, even going as far as holding your breath so that whoever is on the other side of the door will think you’re not inside or you’re sleeping and will go away. 

“I know you’re inside, and I know you’re not sleeping, Y/n.”  Soap says with an unusually stern voice.

You groan loudly and stand up. Upon opening the door, you’re greeted with the sight of a big, angry Scottish man crossing his arms in front of his chest, his arm muscles stiffening. Apparently, he is here because of the stuff between you and Ghost. A thought suddenly crosses your mind, as you wonder what it would feel like if you also had someone who cared about you that much. It must feel nice. You think despairingly to yourself, though on the outside, you still keep that expressionless face before Soap.

“What do you want?” 

“What do I want?” Soap scoffs, “Do you realize the dire situation you’re in right now?”

“Of course I do, you think I’m an idiot?” You grimace, feeling the indignation building up inside you again while the jealousy is burning your organs.

“Then why did you ask me that question?” Soap almost screams at your face.

Something suddenly snaps inside you, and you growl like a hurt animal, “YOU ALL WILL KICK ME OUT ANYWAY, SO WHY BOTHER?”

The Scott is obviously taken aback by your emotional explosion, his eyes widen and he takes one step back, “What do you mean by…kicking you out?”

“What’s else besides kicking me out of this team? Isn’t it obvious?” Your chest rises and falls noticeably as you feel like a combination of violent emotions is choking your throat. Anger, jealousy, despair, regret, hopelessness,... the worst-case scenario is so close to stopping being a scenario as you are actively making it truly happen. You scoff at yourself when the Scott is still trying to come up with the right words, a term that you despise so much suddenly pops up in your mind. Self-fulfilling prophecy. You despise that term with all your heart because you feel like whoever coined it and whoever uses it is blaming you, the person who has suffered so much in the past and is the victim of his own circumstances, for not being able to break the cycle yourself. How can anyone expect a deeply wounded soul to save itself? How can they expect right from the start that the soul knows how to achieve such a feast? 

“Y/n…we’ve never planned to kick you out…” Soap carefully speaks with his softest voice possible, aware that acting impulsively right now will probably result in catastrophic consequences that can never be undone.

“It’s either today or some day in the future. It’s inevitable.” You coldly say.

“Why? Why are you so sure that we’ll get rid of you sooner or later?” Soap asks, clearly puzzled by your certitude. 

“BECAUSE I’M REPLACEABLE!” You scream again, this time your heart feels like it’s being ripped open by all the overwhelming emotions which have been bottling up inside you ever since you, as a little boy, became known of what loneliness was. All the questions ‘why no one wants to play with me?’, ‘why am I always alone?’, ‘what do they have that I don’t?’,...‘what is wrong with me?’ and all the memories of how you always stood from far away, watching the kids laughing and playing with each other, or when you were on the street getting to your destination, and you suddenly stopped just to look at a group of young people sharing with each other about their normal days and talking about the new cool song they came across on a social app. The feelings that dominated your senses at those time are hard to describe. They are a mix of jealousy because you knew those people had what you’d never have, despair because you realized who you inherently were was the reason why you’re never meant for such relationships, hopelessness because you had come to terms with that loss, and, strangely, nostalgia. Nostalgia because you used to be in a couple of relationships that could’ve become the same as theirs, like what was going on between you and Fyodor, and you missed those feelings. You missed the touch, the care, and the fire. You missed the person you could’ve become.

“I am replaceable, alright? It has always been like this! Always! I’m nothing to any of you. I’ve always been nothing to every. Fucking. One!” Before you know it, tears are welling up in your eyes and your tough, emotionless facade collapses in front of Soap, revealing the broken, sensitive, and wounded boy behind. You collapse on the floor as well, your legs and one of your arms support to prevent you from hitting yourself against the cold cemented surface, while your other arm cover your shameful face as you cry like a baby in front of one of the greatest soldiers of the base. 

“Just go.” You say between your pathetic cries as you try to swing your door shut when still crawling on the floor. 

To your surprise, however, the man grabs the door to prevent you from closing it, he does this with so much force that the veins bulge on the back of his hand.

“What the–?”

“Listen to me, Private Y/n.” Soap grunts through his clenched teeth. “We have never thought of you that way. You’re not replaceable to us. You. Are. Important, alright? We can never get rid of your ass because we love you so much, like a real family. Am I understood??”

You looks up at the angry Scottish with your widened brown eyes, still the same innocent, puppy eyes that followed his every step when you’re first transferred to the base of the 141. Soap looks at those eyes and immediately the rage ignited inside him dies out. How can he be angry at you? How can he be angry at those eyes? The man kneels down and pulls you into a big embrace. His warm, large hand rub your back and you can feel his heart beats wildly as your chests touch each other. 

“This is how you have been feeling all this time?” Soap asks, his voice rumbles. You flinch a little as his warm breath tickles the sensitive skin on your neck. It feels so strange to be this close to someone.

“This is how you felt that night, after we arrived at the base from the bar? When you stood alone in the parking lot? When you spent the whole day training without eating? This is how you feel all the time with us?” 

You cannot reply. Instead, you are clinging on to him as if you’re clinging for your dear life, screaming into his shoulder. Your fingers sink deeply into his clothes, wanting to make use of any other ways to release the powerful tensions within yourself besides screaming your heart out.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you feel this way. It’s okay, I’m here now, baby. I’m here now.” Soap keeps pouring sweet words of solace and affirmation into your ears as you let all of the suppressed emotions out. Both of you know that this isn’t the end, your pain and deep-seated traumas will not be magically healed right after this embrace just because you finally have the courage to talk about it with someone. But it is enough for now. Soap is proud of you. He is proud because, either deliberately or not, you have decided to open up. Maybe getting help wasn’t what you thought you’d gain when you screamed words deep inside your heart to him a few moments earlier, but this presents a new beginning, a beginning to a life where you believe that you can actually have what you thought you’d never have. And you deserve it. All of it.

To be continued... (dang, when will I be able to finish this?)

Taglist: @justdawn @killmeprettypleasee @livelaugh-light @therealppboy @arthurmorgansballsack @redjeanjacket @gay-as-hell-blog @b0g-b0y @somothegraffitiartist @kodasstar @teippirulla @aphroditeslovr @peter-the-pan @wvandahoe @c0nny3917 @talia-the-gemini

[crazy-fangirl2524]

Seeing people reacting to tsc and them getting shock over things I thought was obvious and I was getting annoyed until I realised maybe not everyone reread aftg like a million times and have read most of the analytical posts and yeah maybe I am the problem instead

[killemwithkawaii]

"...!!!"

"...oh shit- I'm so sorry, Sal, I didn't mean to...!!"

"...uh, it's fine [y/n], just... try to watch your aim next time, okay...?" 💓💦

[Prison uniform and no shirt variations under the cut]

(Potential POV: He asked if you fr find him attractive and now the proof is all over his face whoops 😳💦💦💦)

[franceblr]

thinking about the fact that despite modern au Zuko being in therapy for his CPTSD and having made a lot of progress, growing little by little into his kind and compassionate side, some days he's still an utter mess. Thinking about how Zuko is fair and level-headed and yet sometimes his most animalistic and irrational side takes control and locks adult Zuko up in a pantry, while it rages and destroys everything he's built for himself. Thinking about the uglier sides of his trauma, those that he usually bottles up and suppresses until he inevitably can't anymore. Thinking about Zuko going through cycles of impatience, selective mutism, touchiness, defensiveness, starting fights with Sokka for seemingly no reason. Thinking about Zuko being mulish, selfish and unfair, mad with anger and grief like a rabid dog. Thinking about Zuko pushing Sokka away, and Sokka feeling so tired, hurt, rejected, angry and guilty, but not leaving because his love for Zuko is unwavering and he knows Zuko is tearing into him out of sheer desperation. Thinking about how painful it is for Sokka to see Zuko back himself into a corner and hurt himself and those he loves most. Thinking about how Sokka is the only one who possesses the required balance of patience and strictness, putting up boundaries and holding Zuko accountable and yet forgiving him when he eventually comes back around and manages to calm down the angry animal in him. How Sokka is the only one with the self-restraint to not mirror Zuko's aggression and not yell back because he knows Zuko will have a panic attack if he does. Thinking about Sokka's endless love and grace in seeing the worst parts of Zuko and giving them space to exist, and still patiently coaxing out of him the better ones that are kind, responsible, brilliant and forgiving.

Thinking about how brave and strong Zuko is, until he's hit by the cycles where Zuko isn't hostile and irritable, but scared. The phases where he's always sweaty and anxious, waking up with shaky hands and a tight chest. The 2 am mornings when Sokka has to physically keep Zuko from getting up and obsessively checking the door locks for the 6th time because even if Ozai is in jail, Zuko is sure that he'll get out and kill him. The days when Zuko is absent and yet hyperaware, easily startled by noises, incapable of eating or sitting down or doing anything at all that isn't waiting for something horrible to happen; when his muscles are tense and his jaw is clenched so tightly he ends up with a migraine, the pulsing in his temple making him cry as he throws up in the toilet. The phases where he's scared like a child and it's irrational and he feels so pathetic and ashamed but his entire body is paralyzed with fear and he shakes with adrenaline for days, barely able to function. Thinking about the times when Zuko is jumpy and easily triggered and stressed more than usual, and he tries so hard to hide it and pretend like everything's fine, but Sokka knows and misses his snarky and sexy boyfriend who's capable and smart and doesn't walk around the house with bleeding nailbeds like an anxious ghost. And yet Sokka holds his face and promises to him that he's safe and loved and protected and Sokka will never ever let anyone hurt Zuko ever again, he swears, because he loves him, he loves him so much, and repeats the same 5 or 6 simple sentences in hopes they will etch themselves in Zuko's brain and give him some relief from the terrors of his past.

Thinking about Zuko being aware that he's spiralling and not being able to take back control and prevent his self-destructive tendencies from hurting Sokka and Uncle and his friends, and feeling so ashamed and remorseful and weak. Thinking about Sokka being aware that Zuko's actions aren't a matter of poor self-restraint and nastiness, and recognizing that sometimes Zuko just isn't able to help it, and needs a hand. And so Sokka steps in and takes the lead, showing Zuko that he's loved even when he fucks up.

[dennisboobs]

plain and simple i am not going to be able to remain in this fandom long-term if i have to keep putting disclaimers on every single one of my posts that say i don't condone dennis' bad, bad actions and that i am in fact aware he's got a history of sexual assault and dubious/nonconsent. the entire gang has done heinous shit. why is dennis the only one who needs to be treated like this? if some rando wants to post about how dennis is pookie pie that doesn't automatically mean they're blind to his crimes. every single member of the gang is a piece of shit. that's kind of the point.

draw dennis with cat ears who give a shit

[baker-chan-senpai]

fugiomis sketch dump