#flashback tw

[brctherscnce]

" I... am not Nemesis. " His voice was quiet as he stayed near the outskirts of camp, his servo gripping tightly at his helm over where the brilliant red mark was once burned into. The night terrors had returned and awoken Optimus from his recharge. Now, he focused on grounding himself.

Focused on his in-vents, focused on the ground under his pedes and the sound they made when his pedes shifted against the dirt, focused on the stars... counting them out, all as he desperately reminded himself,

" I--... am Optimus. "

[diiistcntlands-a]

@aonokumura asked:

❛ i never meant to hurt you. ❜ (for Marsha)

Marsha tenses up as she hears Rin say this. Her whole body goes stiff as the words hang into the air. At first, she heard it in Rin's voice. But as she processed the words, she couldn't help but remember instances of when her dad said it. Over and over again of how he didn't mean to hurt her...as he continued to repeatedly hurt her.

Marsha turns to look at Rin, still visibly tense. Her chest gets tight and her vision begins to distort but Marsha tries to push through it to mutter, ❝W-Whatever...I-It's whatever.❞ She then turns to try and leave.

hit 'em where it hurts // open & accepting

[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — “i think about it all the time.”

The sound of the bullet bursts in his ears and it hits him square in the chest, pain blooming and bones shattering. It’s Mad Dog, no, it’s Biff, it’s Biff holding the gun, grinning and laughing and laughing, and he’s falling down, down, down as the ground comes closer, closer, closer.

He’ll catch me, he thinks, Doc’s coming, he’ll find me, he’ll catch me.

But he’s not because Doc is lying on the cold unfeeling asphalt of the parking lot of Twin Lone no Twin it’s Twin Pines Mall, dead eyes staring unseeing and unblinking, and he’s alone as the speedometer reads 84, 85, 86, 87 as the ravine gets closer and closer and he sees his grave and Doc’s grave and Dad’s grave and Clara’s grave and Dave and Linda are gone and he’s alone and he and he and he—

He gasps for air.

He runs a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s covered in cold sweat, his chest is burning, and he’s shivering.

What the hell?

@doctorbrown ‘s face is in front of his.

They’re in the garage. It was a car backfiring.

That’s all.

“…Doc?…” Marty whispers. To his horror, his hands begin to shake, his vision blurring and colors smearing as his eyes fill up with hot, stinging tears. He tries to take a deep breath but it comes out as a sniffling sob and he wishes he could drop dead on the spot.

“Doc, what’s happening to me?…”

[nyxwordsmithwrites]

Chemically Imbalanced Chapter 40

Trigger warnings: violence, unplanned pregnancy, immigration problems, abuse, spousal abuse,

Jose couldn't believe that his son was sitting in front of him. Years had passed since he last saw him and he'd all but lost hope for a reunion. But here they were. Roman, his son, had become an adult in the time that passed. The reunion was bittersweet to Jose as it reminded him of just how much of his son's life he missed. Remus and Roman chatted as though no time had passed which only made the guilt he felt sting more. 

Virgil shifted in his seat and moved a cup of tea towards Jose, "You look like you might need it just as much as me." He offered, trying to lighten the mood when he'd noticed that Jose held his tension in the same places as Roman. 

The older gentleman sighed and rolled his shoulders attempting to release some of the tension, "I--thanks." He replied, taking the hot ceramic cup and letting the heat ground him. The next time he looked up he saw Roman looking at him, "Roman." He offered quietly, "I don't even know where to start or how to explain." He said quietly, looking back down at his tea not daring to look at Roman for fear of seeing resentment or hate. 

"Just like in the Sound of Music, the beginning is a very good place to start. " Roman offered with a smile, watching his dad and taking him in. Even though it had been years there was something so familiar about him, that familiarity brought safety.

Jose let out a wet chuckle, "Alright then. The beginning it is." 

There was no denying that it had been love at first sight. Jose had been studying abroad for a semester when he met Natalie. The whirlwind romance was one for the ages. They quickly went from strangers to never seeing one without the other. 

Their friends had said something about how they were too dependent on each other however both of them brushed it off. Those comments only made the two of them seek each other out even more. 

When the semester came to an end Jose tried to convince Natalie to come back home with him but was met with resistance. 

"I don't want to move. What if it upsets the baby?" Natalie worried, resting her hand over her nonexistent bump. 

Jose nearly fainted right there as he took in his beautiful Natalie, she stood near the window with the setting sun behind her casting a bright halo around her making her look angelic,  "You're pregnant?" He asked, leaning heavily against the bench for support. 

Natalie turned towards her boyfriend with a bright smile and nodded, "I am." 

With those two words, Jose's fate was sealed. He would do anything to be there for his child. Natalie had never looked as beautiful as she did at that moment. He quickly moved towards her and spun her in circles, quietly whispering near her ear in his native language about how happy he was and how he couldn't wait to be a father. 

_____________________

Jose did his best to provide for them but unfortunately, immigration policies that had been put in place did not work in his favor. Eventually, Natalie stated that the visa process and the money were a waste of time when they could just get married. With their marriage came the ability to earn more money with better-paying jobs due to his visa.  

But the marriage had been more out of necessity or obligation than love. For years Jose had tried to get a visa through the legal channels and had poured so much money into the process. He had his second thoughts about the marriage especially when they were really struggling and he'd picked up any overtime that was offered. The reason for the overtime was two-fold. One was because they needed the money as Natalie insisted on being a stay-at-home mom. Two he dreaded going home every night. If he didn't work overtime Natalie yelled that he was good for nothing and tried to starve their son to death. On the other hand, if he worked overtime Natalie became suspicious and accused him of cheating on her. Of course, neither of these were true but after hearing them so often it felt like maybe she was right.  

With a better-paying job and more manageable hours, Jose finally felt like he was able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. All that changed after Remus was born. 

____________________

There was something different about Natalie after Remus. She looked at the child like she feared he might spontaneously combust or perhaps she was wishing he would. She had never looked at Roman that way. Jose thought maybe he was just seeing things since her behavior towards Roman hadn't changed. 

After a long shift, Jose came home and found Natalie barricading herself in the kitchen with a knife pointed at Remus. She was shrieking and crying as she watched her son. It was impossible to understand what she was saying and honestly, Jose wasn't sure he wanted to know. 

His eyes went to Remus who was sitting up and looking at his mom, reaching his hands out for her but by the look in Natalie's eyes she didn't even recognize the child as her. The first thing he noticed about Remus was the blood around him that was coming from his hand. 

Jose picked up Remus and took him and Roman to the bathroom so he could patch up his son. He would likely never know how Remus got injured as that day Remus stopped talking to anyone but Roman. 

This was the first time Jose considered that maybe Natalie needed help. He did his best to keep Remus away from her and ensure that he had everything he needed. Jose also tried to urge Natalie to seek professional help but if anything that only made things worse. Even when he suggested Roman and Remus go to therapy he was met with resistance by Natalie. 

When Jose had brought up seeking help Natalie had screamed and cried for hours about how she was trying her best and maybe if he did more this wouldn't be happening

Without Natalie's knowledge, he did manage to take both of his sons to therapy. Jose couldn't care less what Natalie's reaction would be if she ever found out. This was in the best interest of his children.  

At this point, Jose was half convinced that this was normal behavior. There were times after the fact that Jose went over all of the days leading up to the end that he tried to pinpoint if he'd missed a sign but everything seemed normal. 

One day he came home from work with Remus on his hip to find the house trashed. There was a letter amongst the wreck from Natalie that said she was taking Roman and leaving. That Jose was no longer the man she married and she couldn't take it anymore. Upon reading that letter Jose knew he should've felt sad or ashamed but he couldn't help but feel relief. That Remus was safe, he was safe. The only thing he was worried about was Roman. How he'd ever find his son or ensure that he was okay. There was no telling what Natalie would be capable of. Thankfully, she hadn't shown any aggression towards Roman but Jose knew that it wasn't safe for Natalie to have him. 

After Natalie left Jose never stopped looking for Roman. However, there were very few people who wanted to assist an immigrant in finding his child. He'd told his story many times and found that most people just stared at him and came to the conclusion that his wife was abused and running for a reason. During his search child protective services had been called on him multiple times as anyone who listened to his story assumed that Remus was also in danger. Thankfully these assumptions were unfounded and he was able to take care of Remus on his own. 

_______________________

Years had passed and Jose had stopped telling people his story. This didn't mean he'd stopped looking for Roman but he mostly used the internet or prayed that somehow they would make it back to each other. 

The day has been like any other day when he received a text from an unknown number claiming to be Roman. Jose was hesitant to believe it at first as it seemed so impossible but upon further investigation he realized it was actually Roman. 

It took everything in him to be patient to schedule a meet up. This was his son they were talking about. A son he never thought he would be allowed to see again. With the reconnection came the hard part of trying to explain to his grown son what had happened. But it felt like all he had were excuses. That he hadn't tried hard enough or been a good enough father. 

______________

Once he'd said his part Jose hazard a glance at Roman and saw that his son had tears streaming down his face, "I'm so sorry." He pleaded, needing his son to understand.

Roman shook his head, "Dad no." He whispered, wiping at his face and feeling Virgil's hand on his thigh rubbing small circles, "you did so much for both of us." He added, "She--she always told me you left."

"I promise you I didn't. I have spent all of my free time looking for you." Jose assured, setting his hand on the table near Roman and instantly relaxing when he grasped his hand. 

The teen choked on a sob, "I believe you." He whispered, squeezing his hand. 

Those three words broke all of Jose's resolve. Roman believed him. His son didn't blame him. He didn't hate him. Jose swallowed hard, "Roman. Can I have another hug?" He asked gently, trying to let his son set the pace. 

Roman immediately got up and wrapped his arms around his father, not even allowing him to get out of his seat, "please stay." 

Jose whimpered and leaned into Roman any attempt at trying to pull himself together shattered by his son's request to have him stay. 

[theregularwriter]

It's just the beasts under your bed (in your closet, in your head)

Fandom: The Owl House

Rating: T

Relationships: Gus & Hunter, Gus & Belos

Characters: Gus Porter, Hunter, Emperor Belos | Philip Wittebane; CAMEO - Caleb Wittebane

Summary: Gus runs away from the gentle, haunting light, to the dark and even smaller bathroom. His eyes are blue again, so they’re the only thing lighting up the place. He uses Willow’s breathing technique over and over again, and again, and again.

And it won’t work.

It won’t work because…

Gus’ blue eyes aren’t the only ones in the room.

Word count: 989

AO3

A/N: I finally wrote down a little something for the ideas I've been having of Belos possessing Gus, after posting a couple drawings online (you can check them out on my art account, @lotusthekat!). This is mainly just a concept fic for now, I do have more plot points, but I'm still unsure this will become a full story soon. For now, I want to keep it one chapter until I have time and inspiration to continue it.

I hope you like it!

TRIGGER WARNINGS - hallucinations (illusions), dissociation, flashbacks, past death, implied death and blood, and possession.

P/ROSHIP DNI.

--

The human rain shouldn’t be scary.

The fact it can cause the power to go out, though, is scary. The thunder and the lightning are entirely unfamiliar to him.

Gus, not wanting to disturb Hunter – who sleeps through the storm without a problem, ironically enough –, decides to go upstairs and stay in the living room. Maybe the basement is actually safer since there are no windows down there; but the smaller space was going to drive Gus crazy.

The wind trying to enter the house is even more terrifying. Gus feels like that same little boy that went to his dad, crying and begging him to make his head stop. Just stop. Dad obviously couldn’t do anything like that, but at least his hugs were safe.

His father was his home.

And Gus isn’t even sure what happened to him.

In the dark, the boy weeps for his home, for everyone he knew.

Until… he hears someone coming from the basement, the steps already knowing where he went to.

“Gus?”

The illusionist doesn’t look up.

“You couldn’t sleep?” Hunter asks softly.

Without saying a word, Gus shakes his head.

When the thunder blares outside, he can’t contain his furious flinch.

That’s when Hunter approaches more.

And then…

Gus feels something warm around his shoulders.

A blanket.

His blanket, actually.

That has Gus look up and find two magenta eyes that know too much, that know entirely about crying alone in the night. Them, and the light spell illuminating them both.

“Do you want some tea?” Hunter suggests.

“Aren’t the flavors different here?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s probably not hard, right?”

Gus snickers. “We’ll probably burn down the kitchen.”

“No, I’ll make the tea for you.”

“Then you’ll set the whole house on fire.”

Hunter looks at him, betrayed, which makes Gus laugh a little less shyly.

“We’ll make it together, whether it sucks or not,” the latter concludes. “How about that?”

“Together…” Hunter gives in and smiles. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

--

The two sit on the couch together, sharing the blanket and drinking their own cups of tea. It doesn’t taste as good as how Luz’s mother makes it… but it doesn’t taste horrible, at least.

Gus and Hunter remain silent on the most part, if not for their palismen, who have joined the cocoon. Everyone else is asleep, as they have been exhausted since their arrival. Gus hasn’t slept well in the last nights, admittedly. Tonight, though, has to be the worst yet. He’s simply… overwhelmed and sad, and mournful.

Hunter can tell, even if Gus hasn’t told him anything.

The former leans on the latter affectionately, to show him that he’s here. Gus smiles, then takes one last sip of his tea. Sighing deeply, he lowers his head and stares at his empty cup.

Much to his surprise, Hunter’s hand is cupping Gus’ chin.

“Hold on, you have… some tea there,” the older boy observes.

Gus blushes at how gentle the touch is, so much that he won’t move.

“O-Oh. Thanks?” He lets out, sounding like his pre-puberty self.

Hunter snorts.

“You’re welcome, Pip.”

Gus goes cold .

“... What?”

When he looks back, he doesn’t find magenta.

He sees… brown.

Brown eyes that simultaneously look dead.

The same smile but there’s something wrong about it.

I know you’re still in there.

And he sees red.

No, not just Flapjack.

Please…

Red, red, red.

Don’t do this, Philip.

The storm is getting through, wetting him, making him feel lost and crushing him with the tears from the skies.

…

… snap.

Snapping fingers.

“... Gus! Gus ! Can you hear me?”

As soon as he blinks again, everything… is back to normal.

Hunter is there, with his magenta eyes, with the same scars, wearing cozy clothes. He’s frowning in concern, apparently sweating as well, maybe not knowing what just happened to Gus.

The illusionist feels his head heavier.

“Your eyes were blue,” Hunter points out. “Were you seeing an illusion?”

Gus can barely react.

He’s still seeing the brown and the red in Hunter, and he can’t get them out.

“Gus,” Hunter insists, “what did you see? Can you tell me? You look scared.”

It’s…

Too much.

Gus still hasn’t left the illusion.

(Has he ever?)

“... nothing.”

“What?”

“It was nothing,” Gus replies simply, trying to sound as numb as possible to disguise the shakiness in his voice.

“That wasn’t nothing,” Hunter reacts incredulously, yet not to the point of lashing out. He’s on the verge of panicking himself, and Gus feels terrible about it. “Gus, you can tell me anything, remember? I promise I won’t mess with you.”

These words are useless right now.

The black teen shakes his head repeatedly.

“No,” he mumbles.

“Gus–”

“I need to–” Gus tries to stand up from the couch, only to almost fall. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not-!” Before Hunter snaps and tries to help him, Gus raises his voice.

“ Just give me some space, okay!? ”

Something about his voice changes.

Gus covers his mouth in utter shame.

Especially at how terrified Hunter looks.

Please… don’t do this, Philip.

“I-I’m…” Gus tears up, adding quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Finally, he runs to the bathroom before things get worse.

Although he hears his name being called, Hunter doesn’t go after him, and maybe it’s for the best.

Gus runs away from the gentle, haunting light, to the dark and even smaller bathroom. His eyes are blue again, so they’re the only thing lighting up the place. He uses Willow’s breathing technique over and over again, and again, and again.

And it won’t work.

It won’t work because…

Gus’ blue eyes aren’t the only ones in the room.

When he gasps and steps back, doing a light spell, he touches and feels the mirror behind him. Which means…

This isn’t an illusion.

Despite the fact that the eyes disappear.

Panting, Gus can only sit on the floor and cry like a child.

I can’t even trust myself anymore.

[wearejericho]

open to all - human!connor major tw for trauma and death of a child.

❝ he's been in there for half an hour. we can't get him to talk. kid is in shock. can't say i blame him. ❞

the events are already on repeat in his head. what could he have done differently? what was the girl's mother going to say? connor had one job: save the hostage at all costs. and he'd failed. god damn it, he tried. he leapt for the girl as she was pulled over the edge of the roof. their hands even grazed. but he was too late. connor landed harshly on his chest, his front half hanging over the edge. he watched them fall. watched them land.

"connor! are you okay?" a familiar voice asks. but he can't speak. he can't move. hank has to physically pull him back onto the roof. "connor. hey. talk to me." nothing.

they'd trusted him. connor was trained in negotiation, and he was damn good at it. he didn't fail - it just didn't happen. why now? why this case? was he going to be fired? charged with manslaughter?

it's another five minutes before connor is able to stumble to his feet. and when he does, he dashes to a lower floor with a private, single-stall bathroom. the second the door is locked he collapses. it's hard to breathe. he rests his back against the wall, hands grasping at the side of the toilet bowl. he feels like he's going to throw up, or pass out, or both.

connor closes his eyes - tries to relax - but all he can see, all he can hear is little emma. what feels like seconds has been twenty minutes. then thirty. hank has been banging on the door for a majority of that time. he tunes it out. finally, the sound of a small metal key, followed by the door creaking open. connor buries his head in his hands and holds his breath. please, please go away.

[brctherscnce]

Roz is standing at the cliff. She’s fixed into a thousand yard stare, optics a bit shrunken all the while. No. No no no no no… why her. Here. Not here. ((You take your time with that schoolwork and crush it with OPTIMUS STRENGTH. But. Yeah. Wifey is Going Through It.))

It was the moment Optimus set his optics on her that there was no need for answers to be given, no words to be said. Optimus... knew that look anywhere, because he himself had it many times. He'd also seen it with his Autobots, with Decepticons he'd faced that saw when he was on the battlefield.

A thousand yard stare-- a look of fear, of being stuck in memories no one would want to relive.

His approach was shockingly... quiet, compared to the many thumps and bumps of when he'd try to approach Rozzum, but here he held a sense of understanding and care. Slowly, he lowered himself when approaching the cliff. It could only mean one thing-- with what happened with Bumblebee... His voice came then, a whisper on the cliffside winds, the lightest of rumbles from his vocalizer,

" Rozzum. "

And the way he said her voice, so gentle, so filled with love, so unlike what she did-- she used it as a way to dehumanize, to treat Roz like dirt. With him, it was warm. It was quiet, and soft, and oh-so-very mindful.

" ... I do not know... what it is on your mind, or... what it is they'd done to you. " The sound of the blade demagnetizing from his back was heard, and it was soon plunged into the earth as Optimus leaned against it to move just the tiniest bit closer-- not too close, not wanting to leave her threatened or cornered.

" ... But you are not alone anymore. Wherever they may be, you will not deal with them alone again. " Slowly, he reached out with his other servo as his spark ached in its chassis. To think she'd gone through something so horrible-- he didn't know what it was, but he saw it in her optics. He saw it. And it reminded him too much of himself.

" ... I am here. For you. For the island. And I will not let its denizens deal with them again. Knights do not fight alone, but as one. "

[joyfulmagic]

🌪️ (for Bucky)

@redxinmyledger || Send me   ‘ 🌪 ‘   to catch my muse in the middle of a violent breakdown. Throwing things, breaking things, yelling… 

Bucky was in a flashback, one he didn't think he could even have anymore. Hadn't he processed this moment enough times? Hadn't he suffered enough living through it countless times?

"<Fuck!>" Bucky yelled in Russian, loathing the language but having the habit of speaking it when in flashbacks. He smashed his metal arm down on a table, breaking it cleanly in half from his strength and the weight of the vibranium.

Hearing a gasp, Bucky snapped out of the moment. "Nat..." he trailed off, wondering how much she'd seen and fearing her reaction.

[diiistcntlands-a]

@fcrgottn asked:

[ 🕯️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat memory do they replay when they’re alone ? Marsha

Being alone can be hard for her because when she is alone, her mind begins to race with voices; berating her. The voices sound like people she knows; her dad, Heather, Melanie. Sometimes, the voices are followed by her replaying some of her bad memories.

headcanon questions // open & accepting

[lastofthirteen]

Soundwave gives Zeta a small medal. It's unassuming at first, but upon closer inspection the medal is actually an award for being undefeated in 75 Pit fights.

Give my muse an item and see how they react!

The young gladiator's optics sparkled for a moment, " I-Is this yours? Why, that's amazing! You really are powerful, huh?-- " He started to ask, holding the medal so tenderly in his servos as optics that... did not recognize the other mech looked into his visor. So much innocence, despite the horrors of the Pits of Kaon. His head lowered, now trying to scan what it was he was given.

The smile on his face faltered.

His helm pounded, and he could swear he saw energon on his servos that he hadn't seen just moments ago. He looked up at Soundwave, and all he saw was a face that stared into his very soul while Quintessons roared around them. This wasn't real. But why was this flash of a memory so familiar to him? Was it even HIS OWN memory?

" ... I-I'll keep it, only if you'd want me to... I-I'm honored, really! "

[otaku-tactician]

i didnt know flashbacks were real. holy shit bruh...

[moved-to-civic-hub]

@oflostinfound asked:

⏳ - For Marsha

"...I used to have this little space in between by bed and by bedside drawer back when I was a kid. It had...a bunch of pillows and...had a blanket draped over it. I...would kind of hide there a lot...especially when my dad was in a bad mood. Sometimes...I could hear him..." Marsha shut her eyes tightly as she gripped onto her cloak as she began to picture it: her hiding as she could hear her dad...killing one of the servants. The screams of agony rang in her ears before her eyes shot back open, looking much more rattled than before.

"I think I...I fell asleep there a few time and...listen...can I...can I go now?"

for every “⏳” I receive, my muse will openly talk about a bit of their backstory | open & accepting

[determinedwriter]

Febuwhump 2024: Day 2: Solitary Confinement

Ro

“I’ll be back late, don’t wait up.” Dad jokes as he leaves for the evening. “And don’t have that boyfriend of yours over. I’ll know.”

I roll my eyes. “I know you’ll know. Have fun.”

He gives me a fake exaggerated frown. “I’ll try.”

Chuckling to myself, I go to the lab for some me-time so I can work on my own little projects without Dad. He’s a great lab partner, but sometimes a girl’s gotta do things alone. I like it that way.

“Hello, Aurora.” Friday greets as I enter the lab with the passcode I know by memory. “What are you working on this evening?”

“Just a few adjustments to my suit.” I say.

“Have fun, pint sized Stark.” She teases.

I roll my eyes at the AI. “Thanks.”

Heading into a supply closet for some materials, I squeeze in against a shelf, hating how tight the space is. I’m claustrophobic, so I’m hardly ever in here. Dad seems to not mind it. I don’t think I could handle being inside of a metal suit like him either. It would freak me out.

Ever since Homecoming night where Peter and I chased the Vulture and he dropped a warehouse on top of us, leaving us to die.

I was pinned by concrete and shrouded in darkness, too crushed by debris to move or scream for help.

And Dad had taken both of our suits, so there was no way to get help. If Peter didn’t have his super strength, we’d both be done for.

And Toomes would’ve taken the Stark Industries plane with all of the supplies inside. That definitely would’ve led to disastrous consequences with such high tech stuff in the wrong hands.

Point is, I’m claustrophobic after being crushed by a freaking building and I’m not a fan of this supply closet. The sooner I’m out of here, the better.

But then the goddamn door won’t budge.

After grabbing what I need, I push against the door with no luck. “Friday?”

Nothing. Can she not hear me in here? I guess I’m not in the lab so she can’t see or hear that I’m around. Probably just thinks I’m still getting supplies together.

“Friday!” I yell, feeling my heartbeat beginning to ramp up in anxiety. “Friday, let me out! Friday!”

I push against the door again, seemingly not locked but still not moving an inch. Come on, don’t do this. I’m on the edge of a meltdown just being in here for a moment.

I melt to the floor, knees to my chest with little room to spare. “Please…”

With the darkness of the closet, I am back there again. Small, scared, and in pain.

“Ro! Ro!” I hear Peter scream. He’s trapped here too. He needs help. Oh God, he needs my help! I can’t just lie here!

“Peter!” I cry, not hearing him after that. “Peter, please! Please, no! No! No!”

“Ro, it’s me! It’s me! Calm down. Breathe. I need you to breathe. It’s-“

Keeping my eyes closed in terrible fear, I slowly realize I’m no longer cramped under rubble. I can move. I can breathe.

I open my eyes wearily, adjusting to the lights as I see Dad in front of me, looking frantic himself. “You see me? You see me, kid?”

I nod numbly. “Uh…huh…”

He exhales. “Good. Good, that’s…that’s good, Ro. You know where you are?”

The floor is cold, the lights bright and a bit overwhelming in my current state. “The…lab…”

Dad nods. “That’s right. The lab…Friday told me you were going to work on your suit.”

“Yeah.” I reply breathlessly.

He notices this, very gently taking my hands. “Hey, look at me…look…it’s alright. Breathe with me. That’s all you’ve gotta do.”

“I-I got stuck in the…” I try to explain. “The…”

“I know. It’s okay.” Dad reassures me. “The closet. The door got stuck. It’s…it’s my fault. I’ve been putting off repairs for a while and…I know it’s not fun being stuck in a small space.”

I whimper and nod. “I’m sorry.”

He moves his hand to my shoulder and squeezes it comfortingly. “Ro, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Can you tell me where you…went? You were screaming.”

“I was?” I question.

“Yeah.” He replies, a bit strained. “Look, I’m not mad at you or anything I just want to help you here, kiddo.”

I fiddle nervously with my hands. “I…”

“Baby.” He says, lifting my chin so I look at him. “You can tell me.”

I tear my eyes away from him and hug myself. “Back to…the day this…really scary thing happened…that I never told you about.”

He nods slowly. “Alright…go on.”

I feel myself blush. “Umm…well…I’m…claustrophobic. Because of what happened. That’s why I…I freaked out. I’m sorry. I know I should be strong…then the door wouldn’t open and…I was right back there again.”

“Back where?” He questions.

“I got…trapped under a building. Under rubble. It was a warehouse and…I was pinned under a bunch of concrete and I couldn’t see a thing and I couldn’t breathe and it was tight and…” I explain, breath quickening again.

“Hey, it’s alright.” He reassures me. “You’re here. You’re home.”

I nod tearfully. “Okay. B-But I…I was trapped. I couldn’t move, I…I couldn’t call for help. I was stuck. Peter saved my life…”

“When did this happen? Why didn’t your suit tell me? It’s supposed to do that if your vitals become unstable or anything like that.” Dad replies, puzzled.

I hesitate. I’m not sure how he’ll feel. “It was after…after the ferry. The night of homecoming.”

His eyes quickly become teary. “Ro, I…I-I didn’t know…I…I never, ever would’ve…I shouldn’t have taken the suit. I’m so sorry. Baby, I’m sorry.”

I crash into him for a hug, crying. “It was t-terrible. I tried to scream but I couldn’t and Peter was trapped too but he’s got his strength so he got the rubble off of us both and he saved me.”

“And you still got out of there and stopped that Vulture guy?” He asks.

“Yeah.” I say. “We had to stop him. Nobody was answering my calls about the plane, so I…I had to go after him. Peter and I did. Like I said, he saved my life.”

“You’ve got a good one there.” He comments.

I nod. “I do. I really, really do.”

“And a sorry excuse for a father.” He groans. “Ro, I’m so sorry. I never thought you’d be put in a situation like that. Especially without the suit. I thought you were out of harm's way. But I was wrong and that’s on me. And I’m sorry. I mean that.”

I lean my head on his shoulder and he holds me close. “Love you tons.” He mumbles.

“Love you more.” I reply. “Sorry I can’t just get supplies in the closet without getting stuck and…imploding.”

He rubs my arm. “No, no, it’s okay. It’s my fault for not fixing the door sooner.”

I sigh. “I wish I wasn’t…damaged.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not damaged. You got hurt and you experienced something nobody should, let alone a kid. You’re still a kid. My kid.”

I sigh again. “I’m supposed to be strong. Heroes are strong. Avengers…Starks…”

“You are strong.” Dad says immediately. “Strongest damn kid I know. Stronger than you should have to be too. But you are. And I’m proud of that. You’re more than worthy of being a Stark and you’re a selfless hero in ways I never have been. Ways that only you can be. You’re better than me. You handle things with more empathy and grace than your old man here.”

I shrug, but he reiterates it. “I’m serious. You’re wise beyond your years. You have the kind of soul and courage that a lot of people my age take years and years to learn. Some never do learn. I’m still trying to. But you’ve got that down pat. I don’t want you to think that being afraid means you’re weak or that kindness and compassion makes you weak either. It doesn’t. I’m just not very good at it myself. But it’s what makes you a good hero. A good person. All I’ve ever wanted for you is to be happy. For you to do exactly what you dream of and to give you the world. And I’ll do anything I can to help you. But you hardly need me. Ro, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” I reply. “But I’ll always need you. And I don’t…I don’t handle things well. Failure. Emotions.”

He scoffs. “You kidding me? Neither do I. Look at me. I’ve gotten past the point of drinking and partying to avoid my problems, but I still bottle them up. I keep myself busy to bury it all inside. I’m working on that though. I never want you to do what I do. Your emotions don’t make you weak. And failing doesn’t make you any less smart. And I mean, you’re damn smart. I know you are. I know that because you’re my kid, you’re a wise ass, and you come up with things I don’t even think of.”

I smile. “Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“I hope I didn’t ruin your night.” I apologize. “You started the night at a party and ended it with me freaking out…”

Dad looks at me with soft but urgent eyes. “It’s not your fault. You got that? Not your fault. Plus, it was hardly a party. Schmoozing with airheaded politicians doesn’t count as partying. I’d much rather be here.”

I chuckle. “With me on the floor?”

He gives my arm a soft punch. “You know what I mean, wise ass.”

“I do.” I agree. “But like you said, I’m like you. Apple didn’t fall too far from the tree when it comes to my stupid humor.”

“I’m going to ignore the part where you said it’s stupid and just focus on the fact you agreed with me.” Dad replies. “Are you tired or do you want to work on your suit? You were in the closet for a while.”

I shrug. “That’s another thing we have in common. We don’t sleep. It’s Stark working hours.”

He laughs, helping me off of the floor. “That’s my girl.”

I’m glad that even when I fall apart, he’s right here to pick me back up again. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

I hope I don’t have to find out for a long, long time.

@febuwhump

[brctherscnce]

@dragvnsovl continued from here.

--

The more gentle reaction was not one Optimus expected-- still, even now, despite the little moments, he was so much more used to the concept that Megatron would treat him coldly, or perhaps just kill him on the spot. Yet it never came. Maybe Optimus would never be used to how tender this Megatron was, but he'd certainly try to be.

He grunted a little as those arms wrapped around him and pulled him just a bit closer, making his cheeks flush to a light blue for just a moment-- but, quickly, steam left his vents, and Optimus now focused on the task at hand, listening to Megatron all the while. The kiss to his forehelm made his optics shutter for a moment.

" ... I know. I know they deem warframes as lesser, that they might not even entertain the notion of negotiation at all. While the Autobots did not exist in my universe until I had the title of Prime given to me, higher society was much the same when my version of you began his rebellion, parading Decepticons around like they were just trophies. It hurt me then. It hurts me now... but I know how the Autobots operate. " Optimus's brow-ridges furrowed now, determination in those blue optics of his while they looked into those scarlet ones. However, he faltered a little-- if only because he felt a bit of guilt in seeming so adamant about speaking with them.

" Let me at least try. For you. " The Prime almost pleaded, moving his servos to cup Megatron's cheekguards and having his thumbs resting on his cheek plates. " I... want to make this a reality. I... I may have failed my Cybertron, but I w... I-I will not fail you. " He had to catch himself from his voice cracking-- this topic was usually a hard one for Optimus to talk about. He didn't want to fail Megatron a second time.

" ... I want to at least do something for you, despite my neutrality. I know I can speak with them. If the bots from your universe were anything like the ones I knew-- Magnus, or Sentinel-- then I want to do something. They may see warframes as lesser, but I was not always a warframe. I was a workframe, once. For mining. " Until Optimus was, 'encouraged', by Sentinel to have a warframe for his role as Prime, of course... though, he hasn't told Megatron a thing about that just yet. " I can do it. I know I can. I just ask you trust me... because I... want to trust you... because I love you. "

[joyfulmagic]

“Did he make you come?" For Harley?

@thesweetestsupervillains — Gina x Harley

Harley looked up at her girlfriend with tear filled eyes, hugging her knees to her chest as she rocked herself back and forth in hopes to calm herself.

“He only fucked me for his pleasure.” Harley sobbed, flashing to her time with The Joker. “I never was able to get pleasure from it,” she spat.

[song-of-the-rune]

"They don't care about you."

 A drabble from a possible future.

"Kaz, they don't--" Rikkal's tail begins to twitch as he continues pacing in front of the bed. "They don't care about you. You realize that, yeah? They're just using you to get what they want."

"They need me there."

"Oh, you believe that?" A laugh escapes Rikkal, then another, and then a downpour of shrieking and howling. Kaz can't move -- but this time, there's no spell on him, is there? His body simply doesn't answer when he calls on it. It's been happening more, since that day, and it's worst around Rikkal. Why isn't he used to it by now?