#GIVE MY BOY SOME TRAUMA

[zeke-fanfucs]

Title: “The Hollow Star”

Original Universe | Heavy Angst | Mad Crow Torment | Kamor Breakdown | Featuring Albus being a big brother.

⸻

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

The kind of silence that swallowed even the breath in your lungs, leaving you hollow. Cold.

Kamor sat on the fraying mat he called a bed, knees pulled to his chest, fingers twitching over old scars only he could feel. The dim glow of the Springrock moons spilled through the cracks in the metal wall, dancing like ghosts over his trembling form.

“They don’t need you.”

Mad Crow’s voice slithered in.

Kamor flinched.

“Not really. You know that, right? You’re baggage. A broken little thing that talks with their eyes and bleeds guilt like a faucet.”

“Stop,” Kamor whispered, voice hoarse and raw.

“But you asked for the truth,” Mad Crow crooned. “And I’m so glad you did.”

The darkness around him pulsed—then cracked.

Visions hit him like fists.

⸻

Hipswitch.

His optics flickering violently, body half-shattered and sparking on the ground.

Calling Kamor’s name, choking on oil and static.

“You’re supposed to be my partner!”

“You promised!”

And Kamor couldn’t move—could only watch as someone crushed his cowboy’s skull underfoot, laughing.

⸻

Mahatma.

Pinned to the wall, bruised and bloodied, trying to protect a child clinging to his coat.

“I can fix this, Kamor—just please, don’t let them touch him—!”

A scream. A white light.

Then nothing.

—

Albus.

His face twisted in rage, in grief, in heartbreak.

Standing in a field of ash, holding a body Kamor couldn’t recognize until it sagged lifeless in his arms.

“They died for you.”

“I should’ve let you rot.”

And Albus threw a bottle of whiskey at Kamor’s feet, shattering like glass stars.

⸻

Kamor screamed, hands ripping at his hair, nails digging into his scalp like he could claw the visions out. His breath came in ragged, broken sobs.

“MAKE IT STOP!” he howled. “I DIDN’T MEAN—”

“But you did,” Mad Crow whispered.

“You always do.”

Blood filled Kamor’s mouth—he hadn’t realized he bit through his lip. His nails had broken skin. He was shaking violently, hiccupping through helpless sobs that rattled in his chest like dying birds.

“No one gets out alive, sweetheart,” Mad Crow said sweetly. “Especially not the cursed.”

And Kamor knew.

He knew this wasn’t a warning.

It was a promise.

⸻

Kamor screamed into the pillow until his throat broke. It was the kind of scream that left claw marks on the soul, the kind that didn’t stop echoing even after his mouth went silent.

Lightning cracked across his skin.

Bright, searing veins of power flickered along his arms, racing up his neck, his jaw—his eyes blew white-hot for a split second, then dimmed with a sizzle and the smell of ozone. His body spasmed with each surge, like his own energy didn’t want to be inside him.

Zap.

He was back in his room.

He could feel the threadbare blanket under his fingertips.

Crack.

He was back in the visions. Blood. Screams. Them dying. Always him watching.

Snap.

He was floating above his body. Trapped in a limbo between reality and the illusion Mad Crow fed him with silver tongues and poisoned sugar.

“You’re a walking curse,”

“A failed experiment,”

“A timebomb with a pretty face and a heart made for hurting.”

“Shut up,” Kamor gasped. His voice cracked. “Shut up shut up shut up—”

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

His pillow was soaked with tears and spit and a trail of blood from where he’d bitten through his tongue. His fingers dug into the mattress like he could ground himself, anchor himself, but his body just kept trembling. Sparks jumped from his fingertips to the walls—zapping the lights, charring the ceiling.

He could hear Mad Crow laughing.

Laughing like thunder.

Laughing like war.

Then—

Bang.

The door.

Was that real?

Or just another game?

Kamor curled tighter, lightning twitching across his back. His body flickered in and out of focus, phasing slightly, like reality itself was rejecting him. Like he didn’t belong here.

All he could do was cry into the pillow.

A scared, lonely cry.

The door creaked open.

Kamor didn’t look.

He couldn’t look.

Not when he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating again. Not when Mad Crow could easily conjure another version of someone he loved just to mock him.

But the figure didn’t speak.

Didn’t move fast or try to drag him into another nightmare

Just…

Sat.

The bed dipped beside him. The mattress springs groaned in quiet protest. And even though Kamor kept his arms around his head like a shield, he felt it. That quiet heat of a body that had known cold for too long. That weight that grounded more than gravity.

A calloused hand hesitated, hovered just above his shoulder—then gently touched down. Solid. Real.

Kamor peeked up through tear-blurred eyes.

It was Albus.

Just Albus.

Rough face. Tired eyes. Streak of dried blood on his temple. That stupid dented metal flask strapped to his hip. And shoulders that carried wars no one ever asked about.

Albus didn’t say anything.

Kamor twitched once.

Then twice.

And the third time… he broke.

A quiet sob escaped, then another, and then his whole body was crumbling into Albus’s side like he’d been waiting years for this—this moment of proof that something real still existed.

Albus just wrapped an arm around his trembling frame and pulled him close.

No words.

No pressure.

Only breath. Weight. Warmth.

And then… silence broke like ice.

Kamor’s hand curled into Albus’s sleeve, tugging faintly.

His lips parted like he wanted to say something—anything—but no sound came. Only that look.

That same hollow look Albus had seen in the mirror years ago when he lost everything. When he left the family thinking it was for the best. A heart that still bled in places no medkit could touch.

Kamor’s eyes were asking:

Why am I here? Why me? Why this time? Why this life?

Albus exhaled.

A hand came to rest on the back of Kamor’s neck. Firm. Calloused. Reassuring.

“Don’t fall into the void, whelp.”

It wasn’t poetic.

It wasn’t tender.

But it was honest.

A tether. A promise.

“You go there, you might not come back. And if you don’t come back…” Albus swallowed. His jaw clenched. “Then we all go under with you.”

Kamor’s grip on his sleeve tightened, knuckles white.

He buried his face into Albus’s chest. Sobs muffled, but deep—ripping up from the ribs. The kind that said thank you and I’m scared and please don’t let me disappear.

Albus shifted to cradle him properly. Like he’d done for Devlin once in a ship while they searched for the child Faithful went out to rescue. Like he’d never had the chance to do for Faithful when she thought he died.

“I don’t know why you’re here,” he muttered. “Or who dropped you off in this twisted timeline.”

“But I know this…” Albus leaned down, pressed his forehead against Kamor’s. “You got people now. Hipswitch, Mahatma, me. You ain’t drifting alone anymore.”

Kamor blinked, eyes still burning.

Lightning flickered faintly over his collarbone but didn’t crack this time

Didn’t hurt.

Just hummed.

A small spark.

Like maybe—

Maybe—

The void hadn’t swallowed him whole just yet.

[luxthestrange]

G.I Incorrect Quotes#114 Wonderful Boy~

Y/n: who's that wonderful boy?~

Wanderer walks in with the most Annoyed scowl holding...a tuckered out mini durin who was introduced to sugar...

Wanderer: what are you looking at?

Y/n: Could he be any cuter!~

Mini*Sucking on wanderer sleeve sleeping giggles*Hat...guy...issh cutest...friend...

Wanderer*Grumbles and rolls eyes...blushing*...Tsk

[starry-bi-sky]

MMMM twins au with danny and dan except its og TUE timeline danny and dan

ok okay i neeeeed o write this down and share it before i explode buT. as the title says. twins danny and dan (who im going to be calling James/Jamie bc i cannot express how much i despise the name dan) where, instead of disappearing into the ghost zone after he's separated from danny's body, Dan rips out Vlad's ghost half, tears THAT in half, and fuses one half with himself and the other with Danny.

Shit happens, and BOOM. Two morally ambiguous and perhaps slightly murderous demonic twins from hell. Daniel James Fenton and his Twin WHose Always Been Here What Are You Talking About :) James Daniel Fenton. They are both depressed, lonely, and one bad day from becoming a mass extinction event :)

this is because i got grabbed by the hair today and dragged into the SVSS fandom screaming and the fanart of Shen Jiu/Shen Yuan/Shen Quingqiu (????) with his fan entranced me. Ice Prince Core is my favorite thing so naturally i have to implant that onto my favorite blorbos ever :)

After the Incident, both their appearances changed and they're practically identical to each other. Sorta. They both have heterochromia and salt-and-pepper hair. But Danny has one green eye and one blue eye and white hair with black streaks, while Jamie has one blue eye and one green eye and black hair with white streaks. I'm iving them both long hair, for funsies <3

nobody can tell them apart, they keep getting confused on whose who and frankly the mix-match hair and eyes make it worse not better asjd. they're horrifically codependent. please do not separate :)

and because i must. im pulling a blood blossom/tales of the passerine and giving them to pre-robin batman. batman and his terrifying demon(??) twins. nobody is quite sure if they're human or not, and the scourge of gotham are a little too terrified to ask.

(they dont HAVE to go to batman while he's pre-robin. however. i think its much funnier that way bc gotham isn't use to A) Batman having kids, and B) Batman having TERRIFYING kids yet. think of all the new fun rumors)

they both use war fans while they're out, and neither of them use their ghost forms because they at least have the remaining empathy to know that they're more likely to murder someone accidentally as a ghost :). Ghost form is for fellow mythicals and Functionally Immortals Only! Not for Squishy Humans.

Jamie: murder. bloodshed. revengggee Bruce: no. no. Justice. peace!! hope! Danny: bittinngggg. blooood. ^-^

They're honestly not bad kids they're just horrifically traumatized two halves of a whole that can never be reunited ever again :).

idk what their vigilante names are but i do know that the underground refer to them in horrified whispers as 'the twins'. this all stemmed from the desperate and sudden urge to see Danny and Jamie, as their vigilante selves, hiding the lower half of their faces with fans and looking terrifyingly judgmental while they do it <333

[cuddlebugmonster]

Came back to this guy after a while and wanted to rework his face makeup or “war paint” I guess XD Maybe add a little curse or two, just because UwU *shrug*

Got heavily inspired but @el-pada and @meruz art and Nexus AU

A lot of meaning can go into what we wear

[moldy-flowers]

Sometimes I wonder who Sasuke is. Who he would be if everything that made him himself wasn't erased or sanded down into a blade

[nonokoko-draws]

Dr. doofenshmirtz 🤝 Malleus Draconia

[demigod-of-the-agni]

A little special something for something even more special. Hint: it's about love and fears and birthdays and new beginnings

(@/marvel hire me <3)

[lokifarbautison]

Lets talk MCU Loki for a moment.

Well, specifically, Loki series Loki.. since he is significantly different to 2011 Loki.

Loki is.. well, he is "Trauma Bonded" to the tva. Now, I know that might be confusing to some since.. the phrase can have multiple meanings- I'm not talking about bonding over trauma. I'm talking about him going through a traumatic incident and creating a sort of bond to his abusers. That kind of trauma bonding.

He is basically suffering from Stockholm syndrome. Which again, trauma bonding. I understand the appeal of the Lokius ship- the art is just, fantastical.. but, I really really can't see anything other than a trauma bond here.

Like, unless, it's an au where Mobius is Don and Loki meets him as Don and never met him as Mobius.. I can only see a trauma bond.

[daydreamalley]

The fact that there’s only one time in Chuuya’s life that Corruption was activated (outside of the lab) where Dazai wasn’t there in the aftermath and that was when Chuuya was just 7 years old and left in the crater of the explosion he created, in so much pain and with gravity probably still fluctuating around him. Nothing but complete destruction, hell on earth, and suffering for a seven-year-old child.

Chuuya is never in good shape after he uses Corruption, and I imagine he wasn’t in good shape after he used the full force of Arahabaki (and by used I mean when it was forced out of him due to Rimbaud). And like, we’ve seen Chuuya close Verlaine’s gate when he defeated the Beast of Guivre, and it left Verlaine close to death (though I also imagine that’s in part due to the fact Verlaine isn’t really human), and we also saw earlier on in Storm Bringer when Verlaine opened Corruption for only a second and then closed the gate that Chuuya was in agony, left to suffer in the hell of what was left of the street he’d been on. 

That scene of Chuuya lying on the ground in what used to be an alleyway in excruciating pain is already hard to read, and he’s 16 then (still so young) but at least Dazai still comes (even though he doesn’t technically have to) and nullifies the aftershocks of Chuuya’s ability that are causing him so much pain. Causing him to suffer.

But imagine Chuuya at 7 years old, imagine how small that is, probably in nothing more than a hospital gown, lying in the rubble of the giant crater that will one day become Suribachi city, experiencing all that suffering and probably more. He’s completely alone in the hell of his own ability’s destruction, in unimaginable pain. His frail body that’s been in a lab for so long probably spasming with the pain as he feels the sun for the first time in who knows how long. And there was no one to hold him or catch him or for him to fall into. No one’s lap to rest his head on. No one to hoist him onto their shoulders and carry him away from the carnage. No one to nullify the pain he was in. No one to comfort him or remind him who he was.

What did he probably have to do when he woke up? Wait until he had enough strength to sit up, wait until the dizziness abated enough for him to stand, and through the disorientation walk on his own two feet despite the pain. He’d been through plenty of it after all, even if he couldn’t remember why, his body remembered.

He’d have to piece together any scraps of memory he had. His name probably came first. Then the horrific feeling of the power inside him and that he was probably responsible for the hellscape he was trying to navigate, cutting and scraping his bare feet in the crater of what was.  

Find the corpse of some military personnel that’d been killed in the explosion Arahabaki had caused, far enough away he hadn’t been completely obliterated, and at least steal some of his uniform to wear, though it was much too big for his skinny 7-year-old frame. And the shoes wouldn’t do him any good, they’d just fall off, the jacket already kept slipping off his shoulder.

And then, in that moment, he was perhaps the loneliest person in the world. Not later, when he was 16 and had someone to catch him and someone had just attempted to sacrifice himself for Chuuya. No, then he had a semblance of a family. But when he was 7, that was when he was just alone, and in pain, with no one to reassure him that everything was alright, that nothing was his fault. That his destructive power didn’t make him less human. If anything, he was probably lucky no one with bad intentions found him. 

And then who knows how long later, he’d wandered far enough away from the wreckage, under a bridge where a couple of other kids around his age found him. Still without shoes and in a military uniform far too large for him. Filthy and starving, but having the strength, having the courage to ask a kid “what’s that square thing?” “Tell me what that square thing is in your hand. Right now.” Last ditch effort of demanding, because somehow he still had a strong will. And the kid was just holding a slice of bread. Chuuya just wanted to know if he could eat it. 

Like, can we just talk about the tragedy of that? How truly sad it is that when Chuuya asked “what’s that square thing” and the answer was just bread. Shirase just explaining“I was holding a slice of bread,” and then having to show him that it was edible. Like, my god. And then Chuuya just… faints, on the spot “like he was out of batteries,” as Shirase describes. Finally all his energy and willpower to survive depleted in this moment of hopeful safety. Shirase also says Chuuya looked half dead he was so skinny.

But at least Chuuya had finally found some people who’d given him some food and water. At least Shirase decided to take him to some shelter, even if it was in the sewers. He finally had people, even if they weren’t well off, they had something. Finally he wasn’t alone. And when he learned he had something to offer them in return in the form of his ability? Well, of course he was going to use it to help them.

Also, just, his first memory was of being alone and in pain. Where he is now may not be perfect, but thank god he’s come such a long way and has people and a home and food and luxuries. But like, he just has to live with that every day.

Oh, and mind you, all this was happening to Chuuya close to the end/in the aftermath of the war, which was already a bad time for people, as Murase talks about. He says “But it was the end of the war, and there were supply shortages everywhere you went. Some kids from the Settlement appeared out of nowhere and tried to sneak inside to steal some food.” So on top of Chuuya’s personal struggles, there were shortages of supplies everywhere, bad enough that kids were trying to sneak into military facilities for food. 

So, yeah, this actually massively got away from me, into the territory of hcs and back out again. But like, every time we see Chuuya use Corruption Dazai is around, because he really has to be. And I love that. But just thinking about the one time where Dazai wasn’t around after the full effects of Chuuya’s ability and how that was probably the worst time and Chuuya was only 7 and alone and woke up in the middle of essentially hell on earth with like no memories. It makes me want to scream, and that’s why I wrote this. And then I reread the part in SB where Shirase explains how he met Chuuya and just got even sadder. Fun times fun times.

[momentomori24]

ROUGE AND OMEGA LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO

[rintinningvt]

Started watching the Bayverse movies with my besties and... Are we just too gay for these movies??? Admittedly we only finished the first two and got through a quarter of the third, but the second one was such a drag to sit through at times and it probably doesn't help that we do NOT care about Sam that much. I hope that there is a character arc for him in the rest of the third movie. Because so far he has not been fun to watch in that one. He just comes off as a slight manchild to me, like... I can see why he would be frustrated with where he is in life but the way he acts with others and lashes out does not help him in the slightest. I do have to admit though that seeing him go to Cybertronian Heaven in the second movie was the funniest part for me and my besties lol.

I'll just hope that the other guy in the next movies will be at least a bit more interesting. Doesn't even have to be a good guy, just an interesting guy for me lol

[ko-fanatic]

So, I'm planning a Loid-centric fic, and would like some opinions/to gauge general interest.

The fic has the working title "Identity Crisis", and it's an exploration into Loid/Twilight finally having a moment in his life to breathe, to not have to construct mask after mask. He can be open with those he loves, finally (set post-reveal).

But the issue with long standing trauma is that, whilst in the thick of it, you can push it away pretty easily. It's when you come out of survival mode, when everything's going well, that the brain can process the sheer amount of trauma you went through.

On top of that, he's struggling to really find... himself. Or, at least, something he can comfortably call himself. Twilight doesn't fit civilian life, Loid is close but not fully authentic. He doesn't even remember his name before he was Twilight. Insert the "I lay awake at night because I don't even know what my favourite colour is, and I'm afraid I don't have a real personality" quote.

To top that off, Loid is... losing his cool, so to speak. Popping corks in restaurants, backfiring cars, certain phrases... They all bring back memories that seize his chest and makes him feel like he can't breathe, because he has to find Anya and Yor, make sure they're okay, nothing can happen to them because he loves them and if the worse were to happen he'd be all alone, as selfish as that sounds -

This is basically a character study, using my unfortunately real world experience of latently processing a lot of trauma. There's a lot of comfort from Yor and Anya, however! They are there for Loid, and want to support him as much as they can; starting with little things that just grow and help Loid see that he has a support network now.

Also, for any still not convinced, I give you: Bond becoming a service dog.

[moldy-flowers]

The interesting experience of being pro Sasuke, anti konoha, pro tobirama, anti Naruto ending, pro Sasusaku, anti Itachi, pro Sakura, anti SasuNaru, pro Tobirama×Izuna, anti Madara, pro karin, anti Orochimaru, pro Uchiha and anti Hashirama. And also as much as I hate the guy danzo was kind of hot when he was younger...

[the-au-collector]

Once again getting consumed by me Sir Raven headcanons. Someone just breathes Cadence of Hyrule my way and I’m like my son grandfather of my blorbo let me give you some more trauma

[parfaitmew]

OMG I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO POST HERE IN DAYS OOPS;

Hi, i'm still here! still working on drawing peoples MCs & OCs♡ i'm just lagging a little behind cuz' i'm getting together a cosplay for a con☆♡☆! Super excited cuz i haven't been to one since last year! But i kinda forgot how much work goes into putting together even a simple cosplay so i've been kinda zonked. But i'm still here☆ just workin in the background right now♡

[swamp-world]

Im begging people to stop saying that TMAGP Gerry would like. Embrace his natural hair colour as if TMA Gerry only does so out of trauma. Begging yall to start seeing goth/alt as something affirming and positive rather than purely masking and reactive. I haven't seen my natural hair colour in years and it has nothing to do with "embracing" it i just fucking. Enjoy. Having dyed hair. It's because I'm gay not because I'm traumatized.